#(I promise this is meant in like a comfortable way. reading that back sounds really depressing but I mean it in that weirdly comfortable wa

[alienjaes]

The eternal problem of "it is nighttime and my brain has oopy-goopy thoughts I want to soak in"

vs

There's a thing to be up for relatively early (and your body already sucks at existing with 8 hours of sleep)

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞

Pairing: childhood bff!Chan x fem!reader (non-idol au) Word count: 3.4k Genre: Fluff 🥰💖, Smut 🔥❤️ (angst if you squint) Warning: Weddings... (lord help me), pro best friend chan, mentions of familial favoritism, semi rough sex? , soft dom!chan, sweet name calling(babygirl, princess), slightly jealous chan, comfort, lord someone teach me how to make better warnings, i think thats all? (someone needs to teach me to proof read.)

A/N: THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU <3 I'm working on improving the formating of my works so >.> bare with me if some of the stuff doesnt translate over well on different devices, especially the text message part >.>

When you were young, you often got compared to your sister, your sister who loved pink and poodles and tutu skirts. She was younger than you by a year and yet, she always out did you, always was a step ahead, always beating you in everything. Yeah, you loved her, but the pain of comparison drove a wedge between you two.

You were 5 when you met Chan. He was very silly, always playing games and smiling, you happened to attend the same school and after he stood up for you against an older boy at the park you two were inseparable.

Chan, who sang for you. Chan, who shared his food with you. Chan, who taught you how to dance. Chan, who teased you for acting like a nerd. Chan, who was your best friend.

Chan was sitting on the couch in your apartment, watching a cringey romantic comedy with you when your phone rang. You gave it a glance and cringed, your grandmother's name appeared on the screen with a image of the woman with an almost plastic smile.

"You should probably answer." Chan said, "Would make it worse if you didn't."

You gave your best friend a side eye. "Nah really?"

He laughed lightly as you answered the phone.

"Hi, honey, you are joining us this year for the whole family get-together aren't you?" The old woman's voice came through the speaker to your ear.

"Of course Grandma-" You started.

"That's what you said last year, and you didn't come."

You made a face, the reason you hadn't gone was because you were sick. "Things happen Grandma."

"And the year before that?"

You pursed your lips, glancing at Chan. You weren't avoiding your family really you were just... avoiding the conflict that ensued when you were with your family. And by conflict you meant the constant onslaught of questions and disappointed looks you got whenever your family asked about anything you were doing with your life.

"And anyway, it's been so long since we've heard from you, we want to see how you've been, keep the family together, bring new people in along the way." Your grandma sounded so happy.

"What do you mean?" You were confused by the "bring new people".

"Oh dear. Did your sister not tell you?" Your grandma sighed, "She has a surprise for us this year."

You sighed. Your little sister always was one better than you, or two, or ten...

"Y/n?" Your grandma's voice brought you out of your daze and Chan leaned forward looking at your face.

"I'll be there this year grandma, I promise."

"Alright. Bye bye honey."

"Bye..." You said in a small voice hanging up.

Chan smiled slightly at you. "So?"

"Help."

His eyes widened slightly before darting around. "You know I really would if I could read minds but it's awfully sad I cant."

You rolled your eyes at the man. "My family dislikes everything I do."

"And?" Chan leaned back, raising a brow.

"They don't dislike you."

"What are you trying to do here?"

You clasped your hands and gave your best friend the most innocent pure pleading gaze. "Come with me, so they won't hate on me."

Chan made a face. "No-"

"I'll pay for the wifi in your apartment for the next two- four months." You grabbed your friend's big hands in yours, "Please!"

"Just because they don't hate me doesn't mean they won't hate on you." Chan said exasperated.

"BUT they'll find someone to compare to you so I won't have to be put down by this." You give him a pleading look.

"Y/n. I've done a lot of dum shit before this is my limit."

"Channie!" You begged. "Come on! I'll pay your netflix subscription too!"

Chan groaned. "Fine! You're making me feel guilty."

"AH! You're the best Chan." You smiled hugging you friend.

He rolled his eyes and patted your hair. "You're lucky netflix is expensive."

So there you were dinner, with your family, your grandmother quick to jump and compliment Chan and compare your father and uncles to him when they were his age. Everyone complimenting your sister and asking her what the big news was. Your dad looked about ready to leave when your younger sister stood. tapping her spoon against her glass gently.

You looked at her, she smiled at you, a smile you couldn't read.

"I have a big announcement to make." She looked at her boyfriend. "Well.. we have a big announcement to make."

"What is it dear?" Your mother asked.

"We're getting married!" Your little sister jumped and smiled. Everyone started clapping.

The initial excitement and congratulations ended, leaving a gently chattering at the table.

Cue your grandmother.

"Y/n dear, what about you?"

Silence.

Everyone looked at you.

Your sister sighed slightly. "Granny, you can't pester her. Give her time, she might get married before 40."

A soft laugh rippled over the table, you stared at your little sister. She smiled innocently, your fist clenched under the table. So what if she was younger and prettier and more successful. You made a move to excuse yourself but Chan grabbed your fist under the table, you relaxed your grip and his fingers slipped between yours and squeezed gently. Your heart skipped a beat and you looked up at your best friend, smiling.

Her Majesty the Queen 01:53 She was obviously out to get you.

Butt Hunter 01:53 I agree

🐶 01:54 Go to the wedding in white.

Baby Chick 01:54 💀

. Me 01:54 I'm NOT going to my sister's wedding in white!

Beanie boy 01:54 He's giving real solutions here.

Squirrel 01:55 Just don't go?

Bread. 01:55 All you do is avoid conflict.

Squirrel 01:55 NO I DONT

Noodle Spirit Survivor. 01:56 shut up. it's 2 in the fucking morning.

. Me 01:56 Sorry Chan, we'll shut up now.

Beanie boy 01:56 Erm actually it's 1:56 AM

🐶 01:56 It's called silent old man.

Bread. 01:56 LMFAO

Baby Chick 01:56 LOL

Butt Hunter 01:56 I don't think his phone box has a silent button.

Squirrel 01:57 😭

Her Majesty the Queen 01:57 💀

You put your phone down and picked up the invitation to your sister's wedding, 4 months... all you had was 4 months to get someone to go to the wedding with. You sighed, going to the app store and downloaded for the nth time, tinder. Cringing.

You had four months to at least meet some expectations, get a nice guy for maybe a month or two, ask him to be your plus one to your sister's wedding then what? You shrugged to yourself and shoved your phone under your pillow before going to sleep.

Chan realized he was screwed, he watched you get ready for another date.

"Honestly." You sighed sitting down to put on your makeup. "I might just go with a random guy. Or maybe I could take Hyunjin or Jisung."

He pursed his lips. Was he even an option for you? What made this guy from tinder so important you had to doll yourself up to go see him. Chan bit his lip, you were his best friend, he could fix the problem, he could be your plus one, he could ask. but he didn't. He was too scared to.

He remembered his conversation with Changbin and Minho a few days earlier. Maybe he was being too much of a pussy. He'd known you for ages, he knew how you liked your coffee and the music that calmed you down, he knew what part in silly romance movies made you cry, he knew when you were uncomfortable and when you were too angry to speak.

"If you keep beating around the bush with how you feel you might never get a chance."

Changbin's words rang in his ears and he bit his lip.

"Y/n what if-" He started.

The doorbell rang as you finished applying your lip stick. "Oh, I gotta go Channie." You stood and hugged him. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck." Chan gave you a small smile and the moment you were out the door he was cursing himself for not stopping you. "Damnit."

Chan wished he hadn't wished you luck. You and Seokmin, your date, apparently hit it off. For the next two and a half weeks Chan felt like a third wheel in his own friendship with you, if you weren't on the phone with Seokmin, you were texting him, and if you weren't texting him, you were talking about him.

It really came to a head when Hyunjin invited the entirety of the group chat to go out for karaoke and you were busy with Seokmin the day off.

It hand't really been his intention to show up at your place angry, just the thought of you not just ghosting him but the whole friend group. He knocked a few times. no response.

Chan knocked again. he still got no response. Sure the key in the dirt of the potted plant hanging under the sign of your apartment number was for emergencies only, but this was an emergency. (to him anyway.)

Chan opened the door and entered your apartment, expecting to hear lewd sounds or... what else was he really expecting. But as he approached your door his heart ached. It wasn't a sound he heard often from you but it was one he could recognize any day. Chan pushed the door open slowly. You sat on your bed, hugging a pillow, eyes red and puffy, tears streaking your face, you didn't notice him until he closed the door gently behind himself.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

You quickly wiped your tears. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

Chan sighed. "Come here." He sat on the bed and opened his arms.

You leaned into him muttering, "Seokmin is a dumass."

"What happened?" Chan asked, rubbing your shoulder gently.

"He blocked me." You sniffed. "Out of the fucking blue."

Chan hummed softly. "His loss."

You looked up at your friend, "You're so dum."

"Nuh uh, I think I'm pretty smart princess." Chan smiled gently.

"I don't think so." You laughed softly.

He looked down at you. "'M smart enough to stay your friend."

You nod slightly, "I stayed attached to you at the hip is more like it."

"Didn't have a problem with it."

"Chan." You rubbed your friend's arm.

"Hm?"

"Go with me."

"Where?" he asked dumbly.

You sat up and flicked his forehead. "You know where."

"I don't get anything out of it." He rubbed his forehead.

"I'll uh..."

"Worry about it later." He huffed and stood, smoothing your hair. "Should we get (comfort food)?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask." You punched him softly and led the way out of your room.

The day of the wedding you were wearing a long pastel blue dress, and Chan a matching suit, it wasn't the first time you'd matched with your best friend, but this felt more special. Your grandmother and parents gave you side ways glances during the wedding procession, and once the reception had started so did your grandma's vulture like flocking.

"Y/N i really thought you would've come with someone other than Chan, maybe your sister was right you just need time." the old woman sighed.

You sucked in a breathe but Chan grabbed your hand under the table, his words making you freeze, "Is there a problem with me attending as her boyfriend?"

You turned to Chan and he squeezed your hand as if urging you to play along.

Your grandmother looked at you stunned. "What? Since when?"

"The dinner really opened my eyes, maybe guys don't approacher because I'm around, I do look like her boyfriend don't I?" He glanced at you, "Why not give it a shot?"

Your family must have heard your grandmother's cry because your mother and father came over a few moments later and you watched as Chan worked his charm, a mask on his face the entirety of the time.

Your sister looked between you and Chan, blinking quite a bit. As your parents congratulated you on not being single for the first time, you felt like you out did your sister, you looked at Chan, he smiled gently at you and your heart jumped.

After a lot of drinks and cake you decided it was time to head home.(Chan had to drag you out.)

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, you were too buzzed to speak and Chan was focused on driving.

Chan smiled softly, glancing at you. "Wasn't so bad was it?"

You took a moment before you spoke. "Did you mean what you said?"

Chan's brows furrowed, "About what?"

"Did you actually think of me like that after the dinner?" You looked at him.

Chan sucked a breath, squeezing the wheel. "Would you believe me if I said yes."

"I don't have a reason not to."

Chan pulled off the highway onto the smaller road that lead through the city and to your apartment.

"Well?" You asked.

Chan bit his lip and nodded. "I meant what I said."

You remained quiet until he pulled into your apartment complex. And even after he got you into your apartment. You stood there, looking at... Chan. Chan who knew you better than you knew yourself, Chan who always calmed you down, Chan who got angry for you, Chan who bought you food when you were sad and held you until you grew tired of it(you never did you never could), Chan your...

"You meant it?" You were completely sober now, picking up the conversation as if you hadn't been silent for the past half hour.

Chan nodded.

"Is that all there is to it?"

"No." he breathed, stepping closer to you.

"Tell me. What else?" You asked quietly.

"How do I even begin?" He laughed slightly. "I'm sorry-"

"Why are you apologizing?" You looked at him confused.

"For not telling you how I felt from the get go." he smiled, "If there's anything that makes me sleep at night it's you, if there's any place I feel safe it's with you. You make me more happy than I can describe with words alone, there isn't another person I'd be with in any life." He reached and caressed your cheek. "I wanted to fight myself when I let you go out with Seokmin. I want you, I need you, I..." He paused, scanning your face for a signal, any sign to keep going.

"You're going to shut up now when you're at the climax of your speech?" You laughed slightly.

He smiled and rolled his eyes, "I love you. I always have."

"You're really an idiot." You kissed him gently.

Chan blinked in shock. "I-"

You smiled, proud of yourself. "Now-"

Chan grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours again, you stared for a moment before relaxing into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue fighting yours before he pushed into your mouth to taste you, biting your lip gently.

"Wanted to do that for so long." He breathed against your lips, pulling away slowly.

You grabbed his collar. "If you don't finish what you started I will."

Chan's eyes widened and a smirk grew on his face. He kissed you again and his hand moved to the back of your dress. "May I, princess?"

"You may." You giggled as he removed the dress and your made quick work of his buttons before he shrugged off the jacket and shirt, picking you up and carrying you to the bed.

You squeaked as he threw you onto the bed and got on top you. "Nervous?" he asked laughing lightly.

"No... Of course not." You said looking away.

He smiled and turned your head to face him kissing you passionately before he moved to suck a dark mark just next to your jaw. "So pretty, just for me."

You gasped softly and nodded. "Just for you Channie." Chan continued his assault on your neck before removing your bra and smiling at your chest, he kissed your lips gently. "This is my favorite part of you," He moved to kiss your chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth and biting gently, relishing in the cry that escaped your lips, "But this is second best."

You blushed, "Stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" Chan chuckled against your right breast, pinching the left.

"You-"

"Huh?" He kissed down your belly and bit hard beside your belly button.

"Ow-" You gasped and grabbed his hair.

"Gotta make sure they know you're taken if you wear a crop top." he murmured and moved lower kissing your thigh and pulling your legs apart. "This is mine hm? I think I waited for it long enough." He kissed your thigh before pulling your pantie off. He tossed it haphazardly over his shoulder. He took amount to admire you and you shifted slightly.

"Channie. You're staring." You muttered.

"That a problem princess?"

"Pervert." You rolled your eyes as Chan tugged you to the edge fo the bed.

He rubbed your clit with his thumb applying just enough pressure to make you moan, he smiled. "That feel good?"

You nodded, panting.

"Use your words." He said rubbing your clit a bit faster.

You moaned and tried to move away but his hand came to hold you down. "No, no."

You blushed, "Meanie."

He smirked kissing your belly before slipping a finger into you. You moan as your wall clenched around his digit, he moved it in and out slowly, thumb still working at your clit.

You gasped and bit your lip as he pushed another finger into you. He paused looking at you.

"What?" You tried to move for friction but he held you down.

"I want to hear you."

You blushed furiously, eyes wide.

Chan laughed lightly and started fingering you again, his middle and ring finger curling to find your g-spot.

You let out a loud cry and Chan smiled, he moved to kiss you, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, he started grinding his palm into your clit as his fingers moved deeper. You moaned into the kiss and squealed, legs kicking slightly. Chan slid a third finger into you and you squirmed.

"It's too much!" You whined.

"I think you can take it." He said kissing your neck, "Just a little bit more, princess, wanna feel you cum on my hand."

You moaned louder as he pinched your nipple, sucking on the other one. You gasped as he started grinding his tented crotch against your thigh.

"Are you going to cum for me?" he cooed into your ear. "Cum for me, please, princess."

You moaned loudly as you came hard on Chan's hand.

He hummed and lifted his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean before leaning to kiss you. "You taste good babygirl." He stood to remove his pants letting them fall to the floor.

You moaned at the lewdness of the action as Chan moved between your legs, tapping his cock against your clit.

"I'm gonna make you feel good, make you mine." He said, his voice thick with lust.

You bit your lip and nodded. "Please. "

Chan smiled kissing you gently as he pushed into you.

A throaty moan erupted from your throat and Chan groaned. "Sound so pretty," He pulled out slowly and pushed in deeply, you cried out at the slight burn. "I'm sorry baby," He kissed your cheeks gently. "Can I move now?"

You nod and before you could ground yourself Chan was pistoning into you, fucking you as if he wouldn't get to again. You held onto him tightly, clawing at his broad shoulders. He moaned and squeezed your hips tightly. "You're so tight princess."

He moaned softly against your neck, kissing and biting, leaving marks that would surely become hickeys by morning, as he rutted into you over and over. You moaned louder, panting into the heated kisses he granted you. The bed creaked and slammed against the wall with the force of it all, the sound of sin slapping against skin filling your bedroom, you were positive the neighbors could hear but it wasn't like you had room to care.

Chan's hand slipped between your bodies and he began rubbing your clit. "C'mon baby. Cum for me again."

Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he began thrusting into you harder, hitting your g-spot.

"Cum for me princess." He said through grit teeth.

Another thrust sent you toppling over the edge and you came hard, vision going white as you let out a broken cry. Chan followed quickly, his thick length throbbing inside you as you milked him for everything he had. He kept thrusting his gaze distant and glassy.

You whimpered and trembled as he overstimulated you slightly. After a few more thrusts he finally slowed down and relaxed on top of you.

"Let me take you out on a date..." He muttered against your shoulder.

"I'd like that." You said running your fingers through his curly hair.

What da cringe ending 😭 I really want to thank everyone for 100 followers LOVE YALL <3 requests will reopen soon, I'm still busy with school but I hoped you liked this it took really long to make.

[mabelstone]

I Could Be Yours

hozier x f!reader

part one of lullabies <3

hi i have risen from the dead... new matt stone will be coming soon i promise!! i've just become infatuated with hozier recently so i had no choice but to devote a new fic to him <3

i didn't proof read because it's bedtime, i will fix tomorrow if there's any errors!! soz

cw: none really... just a shitty boyfriend and drinking. still 18+

word count: 3.5k

“That’s your man, ‘uh?” The deep voice behind me made me jump, forcing me to peel my eyes from Joe and the leggy blonde he was laughing with.

“Stop doing that!” I gasp, clutching a hand over my chest, jokingly punching Andrew in the arm. “But yes. That’s him,” I sigh, wanting to cut the conversation before it had a chance to start. Andrew was far too friendly to be talking to my walking storm cloud of a boyfriend.

“I didn’t know his sister was playing tonight,” he confessed casually, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. “Which one is she?”

“He doesn’t have a sister,” I shake my head, quirking an eyebrow at the human tower before me. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Huh?” He played dumb, though a soft pink blush tinted his cheeks, looking like he wished he could eat his words.

“Where did you hear that?” I repeated, the room suddenly too hot for comfort, despite Joe's protests that I was dressed like a 'tart,' in his words.

“I’m sure I misheard, hearing’s a bit shot,” he lied through his teeth, and he must be a fool to believed I'd let him play it off.

“Andy," I faced him now, trying to force him to meet my eyes he was so desperately avoiding. "Who did he say that to?”

“That woman,” his voice sounded pained, as if he were almost ashamed to tell me. He was too smart, he could read me, and if anyone could read the room, it was him. I just went quiet, his warm calloused hand placed on my shoulder, feeling like it might burn a hole in my dress. “You deserve better,” he professed sincerely, pulling that horrid face at me, the type you pull when you feel really sorry for someone.

I huffed some pathetic excuse of a response, forcing my eyes to the ground. There seemed to be a magnetic pull, forcing my eyes back to Joe, hurting my own feelings again and again. I can’t recall a time he’d ever looked that interested in me. Not unless he was trying to bed me, which was usually after a stressful day at work or after a massive fight.

“If you were my girl, every man and their dog would know. You’re too good for him,” his voice was warm, like being pulled from a frozen over lake and straight into an oven. His Irish brogue more apparent than ever, and I cursed myself for the way my heart leapt in my chest.

He just slipped past me onto the stage for his set, unaware that he just made me feel nearly every emotion in the span of two minutes.

“That’s not even a real job,” Joe scoffed, shaking his head indignantly like he always did, as if everyone were beneath him. He’s always looked down at others for as long as I’ve known him. His Napoleon Complex makes him feel like he’s six foot eleven, when in reality, I barely have to tilt my head to kiss him.

I bit my cheek to suppress an angry concoction of insults, swallowing it down and opting for, “so my job isn’t a real job?”

“Babe,” he groaned, one soft hand slipping off the steering wheel onto my thigh. “You know that’s not what I meant. It’s just not very manly, is all. He should be doing something that’s not just for chicks.”

“He’s a carpenter, actually,” I lied, arms barricaded across my chest as I tried to focus on the London Bridge we were rolling over. “Manly enough for you?”

“Could you relax? Jesus Christ…” he pulled his hand from me quicker than he placed it there, sighing emphatically. “You gettin’ your period or something?”

“No!” It was my turn to scoff now, turning to face him. His stupid face was contorted like it always was, as if he’d smelt something rotten. “You’ve hurt my feelings, Joe.”

“Oh, everything hurts your fucking feelings,” he seethed, hooking a turn so sharp I just about fell into the driver’s side. I muttered under my breath, gripping onto the handle at the top of my door, as it was highly likely I was going to need it for the rest of the trip. That’s my Joe. Sickly sweet when you first meet him, then cold and sharp when he drops the act. “I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this shit.”

“Excuse me?” I straightened up, my stomach twisting in that familiar nauseating knot.

“You. Your shit,” he rolled his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time, turning his head to me, deadpan. “Constantly starting arguments, whining about everything. You’re exhausting me.”

Then the rest of the entourage strides in on cue. The searing pain in my throat, the tears prickling into my eyes. The shame and embarrassment that pummel me like waves in a storm. Oh, God, the embarrassment. I feel my cheeks glow red, and suddenly the chill of late Autumn is comparable to a sauna, and there’s not enough air in the passenger side to satiate my lungs.

“Don’t cry,” he groans again, refusing to look at me again. And suddenly, I’m twelve again, trying to cry silently in my father’s car. Sigmund Freud would be laughing in his grave right now. “I’m sorry," he sighs, reaching for my leg again. I jerk away. "Shouldn’t have taken it so far.”

Though his apologies are just words at this point. I’ve walked this road too many times to not know any better. The rest of the ride home is silent, my knees pressed into the passenger door, trying to focus on anything but the fact that I will probably never leave. I will board this train wreck until he beats me down to nothing.

"He just has this weird infatuation for you. A blind man could see it," he tsked, shaking his head as if it were my fault. "And you just egg him on. He's a proper knob."

"He's the knob? What'd you think of your sister's set, hm?" I seethed, silently letting the tears fall as if I were in some sappy drama.

We didn't speak for the rest of the night, Joe slamming his car door, storming inside to lock himself in our bedroom. I washed my face in the kitchen sink and fell asleep on the couch in the small hours of the morning.

Joe didn't come to my show tonight, opting for the local pub with his work mates. I can't lie and say I was upset about it. Another thing I couldn't lie about is how Andrew's words played on a loop in my head for the rest of that night and all day today. I know he was just saying it to comfort me, but is it sad that I've never been so flattered?

"Hey," I smiled, the condensation from my breath hanging between us as I walked up to Andy. “Thought you were quitting.”

He was leaning against the brick wall outside the bar, a halfway smoked cigarette to his lips. He looked nice tonight. His usual unruly curls framing his face so perfectly, two layers under his dark denim jacket. He grinned infectiously as always, never once tearing his eyes from mine as he shrugged, “I’m no quitter.”

“Shut up,” I groaned, finding my spot beside him, now pressing my back to the cold bricks.

“So, where’s Jake tonight?” Now his eyes were fixed on the busy street before us, his arm brushing mine each time he’d put the cigarette to his lips.

“It’s Joe,” I corrected with an eye roll, though there was no malice in my expression. “And he’s watching the game with his mates. We’ve barely spoken since last night.” My heart ached a bit at the reminder of what he’d said to me on the drive home. You’re exhausting me. If his wish was for me to rethink the past five years, he certainly got it.

He gave me that pathetic poor you look again. "Come on. I'll buy ya' a drink. I insist."

"Who am I to deny you?" I grinned, following close behind him as he stubbed his cigarette out under his boot, holding the bar door open for me.

He ordered himself a whiskey on the rocks, a coconut margarita for me. We slid into a small booth at the back, the walls practically vibrating from the drunken chatter and the obnoxious drum solo on the stage.

"She's busy tonight, eh?" He half shouted across to me, leaning over his drink.

"I know, right? I've never seen the place like this," I agreed, taking in just how alive the atmosphere was tonight. "Remember me when you're famous."

"You're not easy to forget. You remember me!" He grinned at me, taking a large swig of his drink. I couldn't tear my eyes from his Adam's apple bobbing with each sip, his eyes dark in the dim lighting. I felt extreme guilt, forcing my eyes anywhere but his direction.

He must've sensed it. This man could read me like a book. Thankfully, he steered the conversation smoothly, "what're you playing tonight?"

"Oh, no. I'm not singing tonight," I shook my head, polishing off my drink in a sip a little bit too big for my mouth. "Want another drink? My shout."

"Why aren't you singing?" He ignored me, pulling a face that screamed, are you mad? "If there's any night for it, it's tonight."

"Honestly, I just want to get pissed and be the observer for once." I smiled sweetly, hoping he couldn't see through the facade. "What're you singing then?"

"An original," he smiled coyly, eyes faltering.

"Oh, Andy! How exciting," I cheered, genuinely happy for him. He'd shown me some of his poetry, and with such a beautiful voice, there's no possibility he could go wrong. "You're going to blow the roof off. This calls for another drink."

"As you wish," he grinned, holding eye contact as he finished off his glass, the faintest pink tinge to his cheeks.

When I made my way back to the table, my heart sunk a bit when I saw a girl leaning against our table giggling, tucking thick red locks behind her ears. He was laughing too, body language practically begging for more. I might be exaggerating. Why did I even care? I am in a committed relationship.

Funny, he looks just as amused as Joe did last night.

I made my way to the table, sliding his drink to him.

"Hi, I'm Harper," she smiled wide, a beautiful array of pearly teeth on full display.

"Lovely to meet you. Y/N," I smiled back, unable to look at Andrew. "I'm gonna go watch the show. I'll leave you to it."

I turned my back just as he was about to protest, sipping at my drink as I kept my word, finding a seat before the stage. I couldn't really focus on the music though, my mind reeling over what Joe was up to. He hadn't even texted or calls. His location was off too. I grabbed another couple drinks, bumping into Andrew when I made my way back to the stage.

"Y/N," he reached for my arm, a sincerely apologetic tone to his voice. "I'm sorry for earlier, that was rude."

"No it wasn't," I replied a bit too quick, brushing off the apology. "You're single, you can do whatever."

"I meant having someone at our table," shit. Was that the wrong thing to say? Their margaritas are always too strong. "I was enjoying just having you and I time."

"No worries, there's always next time," I smiled sweetly, though really, I just wanted to get in the nearest cab, pack all my shit at home and move back to Bristol. "You're nearly on! I'll be front row." I turned away again, finding my way back to the nice girls I made small talk with earlier.

Sure enough, Andrew was up within the next fifteen minutes. The announcer, somewhere hidden backstage spoke, "please give your warmest welcome to our absolute favourite, Andrew Hozier-Byrne!"

He walked onto the stage, acoustic guitar hanging from his neck as he awkwardly made his way onto the stage, adjusting the microphone to his height as he did each night.

"Ehm, this song is called I Could Be Yours," he offered a tight lipped smile to the crowd, a few cheers heard here and there. "Thanks guys."

I couldn't help but grin at his shyness, the complete opposite of how he was with me.

I could be soft and sweet, I could be hard and loud.

I could be everything you'd ever need somehow.

Why don't you hear me sing out from the lost and found,

I could be yours, I could be yours, I could be yours.

He seemed to be scanning the crowd, probably for Harper, meanwhile all eyes were on him, basking in his glory. As if he were rain in a drought, not a single soul in the audience not mesmerised by his syrupy voice. Myself included, wide eyed, the epitome of awe.

Why don't you try on me? Why don't you take me home?

I'll match the colour scheme of your bedroom walls.

Oh, take a dose of me, it doesn't hurt at all.

I could be yours, I could be yours, I could be yours.

His skilled fingers danced along the strings, his eyes, when not scanning the crowd focused on his measured movements. To say I was moved was an understatement. His voice thick and sweet as honey, his eyes shining under the stage lights, the hypnotic effect he had on the crowd. Unlike anything I had ever experienced.

Then his eyes found mine. It was almost like nothing existed in the same realm as him and I. Just us.

Oh God, I'd benefit from your sweet tenderness.

Oh, thank God, it could've been, 'cause nothing comes from it.

That'd be a helpful thought if I could remember it,

but I could be yours, I could be yours, I could be yours.

"Thanks," he nodded awkwardly to the crowd, eyes leaving mine as he did the stage, the audience cheering and clapping.

I couldn't put into words the feelings I felt if you held a gun to my head. No doubt my eyes glistened back at his, tears of joy swimming at my waterline, completely estranged from last nights'.

"He was looking right at you!" One of the women I'd met shouted over the cheers, shaking me by the shoulder. I just hummed some response, smiling and beelining for the exit.

The bite of the outdoors was a stark comparison to the warmth of the bar, my nervous system seeming to reset instantaneously. I pulled out my phone and checked the time. 8:45pm. I told Joe I wouldn't be home til midnight and not to wait up for me.

It was wrong to feel this way about Andrew. He was my friend. I had Joe. Even if we had our rough patches.

My phone buzzed wildly in my hand, and when I checked the caller ID, I nearly didn't pick up.

I sighed. "Hello?"

"Hey," Andrew spoke loudly over the drunken chatter, a few good one mate, and, good on ya's here and there. "Where'd you run off to?"

"I, uh, had too much to drink," I lied through my teeth, kicking at the gravel beneath my feet. "I'm just heading home."

"Oh..."

"I'm out the front," I piped up, not wanting him to think he caused this. Or that I was running away. Because I was not. Right?

He hung up and shortly after, his tall figure emerged, his shadow reaching me before he did.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it. "Great song, Andy. Really beautiful." I meant it.

"Oh, yeah. Thank you," he smiled, looking down at his boots. "How're you getting home?"

"I was gonna get a cab, or an Uber, or something." I shrugged, acutely aware of how breathy I sounded. Beyond tired. I wasn't lying when I said I'd had too much to drink.

"No need, I'll take you." He offered, digging his hands into his pockets and gesturing with his head for me to follow.

"It's okay, Andy, really," I countered, giving him my must sincere smile I could muster. I was too confused right now. Nobody had ever made me feel this way while I've been with Joe. "Get in there and mingle. They loved you."

"I'd rather know you're safe."

I ended up in the passenger seat of his car. He'd kindly put the heater on full blast, though no doubt, he'd be sweating under all those layers. I protested, but he kept fretting about how red my nose was from the cold.

"You alright?" He asked, my head leaned against his window.

"Yeah," I breathed, struggling to keep my eyes open, though my mind was very much awake and racing.

"You've been acting funny, did I upset you?" He glanced over at me, concern written all over his features. Had he always been this handsome?

"It's not you. I'm sorry," I lifted my head to look at him. Tequila and I are not friends. I flipped down the visor mirror to see a tiny it of smudged mascara under my eyes. I wiped it away, sighing for the hundredth time. "Joe just... things aren't going well. I slept on the couch last night. Well, barely. He's just so mean, you know?" I babbled drunkenly, a huge weight lifting after finally telling someone. "He always picks at everything I do. You complain all the time. You put too much salt in this. That isn't a real sustainable job, babe. We never shag anymore... Shag? Isn't that disgusting, Andy?"

I continued my drunken spiel, probably including more details than I should have. Andrew just kept his eyes on the road, sharing glances here and there to let me know he was listening.

The grande finale, "why can't all men just be like you? You would make a wonderful husband, you know. You wouldn't tell your girlfriend she's too lively in bed, would you?"

"No, I wouldn't," he laughed, shaking his head. He looked at me fondly. For once, it wasn't a look of sympathy. It was kind of sad, almost.

"I've said too much, haven't I?" I probably looked like a kicked puppy at the realisation, but one smile from him eased any disconcertion I had.

"Not at all," he sighed, staring at his hands on the wheel. "I have a lot to say. I just don't think I should be the one saying it."

"Well, now you have to tell me," I countered, lolling my head to the side to face him.

"He's a fuckwit," he shook his head, his grip on the wheel tightening. "He doesn't deserve you. Not even a little bit. He's going to fuck it up and won't realise what he's lost until it's too late. And you know what? Good."

He pulled onto the road before my house with perfect timing, getting out of the car to open my door for me. He took my hand in his, helping me out, and thank goodness he did, because I still nearly rolled my ankle. I laughed and let myself fall into his chest, steadying myself after a hearty, obnoxious laugh.

"Oh my God, I've made a complete fool of myself tonight," I sighed, this time it felt like a release, not a breath weighing me down. "Thank you for taking care of me, Andy."

"Anytime at all," he grinned leaning against his car. I couldn't help myself, lurching forward at him, wrapping my arms around his torso. My head barely reached his shoulder, even when standing on the curb.

"I loved your song," I murmured against his chest, pulling back to grab his face. He turned ghost white. "You are my favourite singer. Ever."

His cheeks darkened as he looked away, chuckling softly with the shake of his head.

"Drink lots of water for me tonight. That's an order as your favourite singer."

"Yes, Mr. Hozier-Byrne," I grinned, turning on my heels and heading for the door. The garage door was 1/4 open. Joe must be home early.

I fumbled through my purse for my keys, finding them after what felt like an eternity of great difficulty. I was going in with a good attitude. I was going to sit him down and hash this out. We can fix this. We've been together nearly 6 years, this is just a rough patch.

I walked up to my bedroom, sure my ears were deceiving me. When I opened my bedroom door, I saw red.

omg angst... just hear me out i have good direction for this one. i hope u enjoyed <3

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hello, I'd like to request for fuegoleon, William, nozel, zora and Nacht where they hurt their s/O's feelings and make her cry? And just how guilty they feel, how they make it up, comfort their s/o and apologize. You can choose whatever they couldve said or done to make her cry I love anything you write they're all so good

If 5 characters is too much then just fuego, nozel and nacht would be fine please and thankyou❤️

Hello! Some hurt comfort is on the menu it seems, and I'm happy to oblige ^^ This ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated, but I hope it's worth the wait ^^

Pairings: Fuegoleon x f!reader, William x f!reader, Nozel x f!reader, Zora x f!reader, Nacht x f!reader

Fanfic type: Headcanons

Genre: Hurt-comfort

Length: about 0.75k each, 3.9k total

Warnings: Generally hurt-comfort, the guys snap at reader, all for reasons of their own, in Nozel's scenario the reader doesn't really know what kind of a person Nozel's dad is, Zora addresses reader as "babydoll", Zora calls himself as a "jerk ass", reader cries and the guys try to comfort in their own ways

Fuegoleon

He had had very taxing couple of months. The adverse the country was facing seemed to have no end in sight, and it felt that in terms of politics and finances the country was being pushed further and further into a corner, which took an immense toll on him emotionally.

And though a part of him wished that he could simply take a vacation and not worry about any of it, he knew it to be senseless. Quite simply because the same issues would wait him as he returned, and they would have further piled up, so taking a vacation would be counterproductive. But still he felt that his nerves were hanging by a thin thread, even if he considered himself as a patient man.

As he sat by his desk, you came through the door with a paper in hand.

“I made us a reservation to a restaurant,” you told him. “I thought we could take a nice evening off, have a date and just enjoy life,” you smiled, while presenting the reservation information to him.

“No thank you,” he said without looking up from the documents in front of him.

“But you need to have some time off as well,” you insisted while placing your hand onto his arm and tugging him slightly. “So I planned us a day where we can just do something w-“

“I can’t take a day off!” He snapped. “Surely a moment of peace and quiet would be pleasant, but there is too much to take care of for me to quite simply ‘take a day off’,” he continued.

And you… lifted your hand off of his arm, and took a step back.

You had intended to do something nice for him, because you had seen how strained he was and now he… wasn’t… feeling the sentiment. A part of you wanted to blame yourself because you had failed to read him and what he’d wish correctly, because wasn’t a spouse supposed to be able to do that?

There were a lot of emotions swirling around in you, but none of them were pleasant. And with it, tears begun climbing to your eyes with a burning sensation, only to roll down your cheeks.

Fuegoleon looked at you, and there was a gnawing, pricking ocean of guilt in his chest, because he knew that you had meant well. You had wanted to do something nice for him and make the situation at least a little bit more bearable.

“My love I’m…” he reached forward for you. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, but … I…” his gaze fell to the side as he spoke, feeling the weight of his words, spoken carelessly.

You didn’t shy away from him as he tried to get close to you again, because it wasn’t… that you didn’t understand him, and you could see the sincere apology and regret in his eyes.

“I’ll… I’ll try to take the day off…” he promised with something that sounded almost like a sigh, but really it was because he knew what it’d mean.

And you knew what it’d mean too. It’d mean sleepless nights, having less time during the next week or two for you two to spend together regularly, in place of that one day. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make, but it wouldn’t be worth it. You’d rather see him a little each day than not at all.

“No,” you shook your head with a faint tone while mirroring his movements and reaching for him. “We can… just have a moment, a short moment, in the evening to ourselves,” you said through your drying tears.

His eyes gathered that gentle undertone that was too beautiful for this world, as he placed his hand onto your cheek and brushed away your tears. “If that is what you wish,” he said with gratitude in his voice before he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

You nodded as a reply, even if only faintly.

“I am sorry, my beloved,” he still repeated. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I don’t wish to impose any-“

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I get it. There’s a lot on your plate and I should have talked about your schedule with you before making reservations…”

“But your heart was in the right place,” he told you while placing his hand under your chin. “And that’s one of the reasons why I love you,” he admitted while lifting your chin, and placing another kiss onto your lips, warm, gentle and caressing, which washed away any shadow of doubt of his sentiments that might have been there.

William

The days had grown long, because of everything that was going on in the kingdom. And with the disappearance of Julius, it had gotten him thinking about what had happened after the whole ordeal with the elves. Which had made… something about the whole state of the kingdom hit too close to home with him.

Perhaps he was questioning being pardoned altogether, since it seemed that the one to pardon him, had taken a run for it. Or perhaps something more dire.

But if the only person to be willing to pardon him was someone like him, willing to look the other way when the kingdom was falling to its knees then…

It filled him with various emotions, all swirling and twisting and turning until he felt all of them trying to bubble to the surface, but he didn’t know which to let out first. How to let them out. Instead it felt like they were all stuck in his throat, just building, building, building up pressure so much that he might-

“Hey honey!” You greeted while entering through the door of his office, only to see him hunching over his own desk. “Oh did you eat something bad, or-“ you placed your hand onto his shoulder.

But he pushed it away. “Don’t touch me!” He ordered without as much as looking at you. And from his tone, you heard nothing but pain, hurt, and… you could have sworn… disgust… underlying it all… You could have sworn there to be contempt… in there…

You took a step back, pulling your hand to you and holding it with the other. As you couldn’t… imagine why… why would he have… Your sweet William…

His chest was heaving, and as his eyes lifted from the desk to you, the most prominent feelings you could se were fear and pain. The way they flickered, his purple eyes that were so gentle, flickered around as tears lined the corners of his eyes.

“Forgive me…” he whispered as his eyes turned to the side. “I didn’t… I just… Why did he pardon me? Some… solidarity from a villain to another?” His head swayed from side to side, as if trying to comprehend, but failed to do so.

“You’re… not a villain, Will…” you tried, because his reaction had… made sense. It wasn’t you he was trying to shoo away, it was his own emotions, but you sounded anything but convinced. Tears climbed to your own eyes.

You buried your face into your hands, and wept, from the shock of what had happened, his words, but also because you had understood where it came from. Because he was pained from the guilt of his past actions, and you felt his pain too.

He turned to look at you again, as he heard your sobs, and got up from the chair to make his way to you from the other side of the desk.

“I’m sorry… so, so sorry my little song bird…” he wrapped his arms around you, and pressed his head against yours, as his tears rolled down his cheeks, and onto you. “I’ll… make it up to you…” he pleaded. “Just don’t… please don’t… hate me, I… didn’t… wasn’t… I didn’t mean to….” His voice was faint, broken and defeated, and he swayed in place with you in his arms.

It sounded like he was repenting. Praying for forgiveness.

“I don’t hate you… Will,” you told him while wrapping your own arms around him. He was a broken man, and he had acted out of distress. Without intent to hurt you. Without intent to push you away.

He pressed a kiss onto your head as his embrace grew tighter. “I’m sorry,” he still whispered.

You nudged his head with yours, and whispered against his skin “we’ll make it through.”

Because you would. The two of you would. He wasn’t a bad man. He wasn’t a villain. It was simply that the guilt he felt got overbearing sometimes, which had caused him to call out in fear of what he thought about himself.

But he loved you, and you loved him. So, you could heal, together. You were certain about it, as you stood there, holding onto each other.

Nozel

Nozel had learned to deal with his family situation from a young age. Though ‘dealing with it’ had turned into something that seemed more like survival. Not that you could see it from the surface. Because, while looking from afar, without seeing into his eyes, his emotions, he was a calm sea. Vast and serene. Though something, someone to be revered and respected, because there was also harshness in the oceans.

But if you had the opportunity to peek under the surface, you’d see a twisting, turning vortex of guilt, pain, sorrow… fear… A lot of emotions one might deem ugly.

‘Unsightly’ he would describe them in himself. Because he couldn’t be any of those things. The Captain of the Silver Eagles, the First Born Son of the Royal House of Silva, couldn’t be any of those things. And thus… to him, in him, they were unsightly.

He didn’t talk about his childhood either. He didn’t talk about his parents, aside of his mother. Which, given the circumstances of her parting, made sense. He would talk about her more because of the fate she had faced.

You had been thinking about starting a family with him. You had talked about it in passing. And as you sat in the living room, him staring out of the window, deep in thought. You talked about how lovely it’d be. “I’m sure you’d be a great father,” you thought out loud, meaning just it, and nothing else. “Just like yours.”

His head begun to turn to you with a slow motion, as if mechanic, and his eyes were wide open. It wasn’t even a glare, but a mad stare.

“I will never be like that bastard!” He shouted, making you press against your seat out of the sheer force in which the words were pushed, spat out of his mouth.

His body started to shake, and the stare turned into a look of horror as his eyes fell down to the floor. Because…. Because… though his father had been horrid, spewed poisonous words in a whole different way than shouting… maybe you had been right and… he was on his way becoming just like his father. Which was among the last things he’d want.

But you… you didn’t quite understand where it had come from. Sure, he hadn’t talked about his father, but you hadn’t thought that there’d be this level of hatred and contempt for him from Nozel. Though you had gathered that Older Lord Silva wasn’t a well liked man, but… surely he… would have been… kinder to his… own children, right?

Right…?

There were a lot of emotions turning within you. Partly from the force of Nozel’s words, and partly from guilt of having failed to see through his silence. Through the things he didn’t want to talk about, and… as you leaned forward, your elbows on your knees and buried your face into your hands, you cried. You cried and you cried and you… didn’t know what to do. What to say?

You felt a weight right next to you on the couch, as a pair of arms wrapped around you.

“Nozel I…” you tried while pushing against his chest with a faint motion.

“Don’t…” he started as his hold of you grew more firm. “Look at me…” he continued as his voice broke, and something… as if a droplet, landed onto your shoulder.

The words sounded like a plea. Plea filled with shame and the broken pieces of his soul that he wasn’t eager to show you.

But you did as he wished, and settled into his embrace.

“I’m… sorry, my dear,” he whispered with that same broken tone while placing his hand to the back of your head. “I’ll… be better, than him. I will…” you couldn’t tell if he was trying to tell that to you or to himself.

But whatever his father must’ve been like in reality, you could already tell that Nozel was far better of a man than his father had ever been. He was. Because the man who held you in the soft, gentle, secure embrace felt so very deeply about you and the ones close to him.

He really was like an ocean of secrets.

“I love you,” he professed through another whisper, but while the tone was silent, the proclamation was loud as ever. “I love you…” he repeated, just to make sure that you heard him.

And as you buried your face into his shoulder, and the scent of his haircare products flowed to you, it was as if your tears had disappeared into thin air.

Nozel might not have been the best with words, but he was there, when you needed him the most.

Zora

Zora had had to raise himself for a good portion of his childhood. Though Zara had given him good tools to life, and a lot of wonderful memories, it didn’t mean that Zora wouldn’t have had to toughen up.

His accomplishments, his skills and tenacity were all a result of him having a keen eye for details, while also having had to, quite bluntly, tell himself to do better. Pay attention to his own shortcomings and fix the issue.

But… it had also resulted in him being blunt with others. Though it was all for the sake of betterment, for growth and development of skills, the way he delivered the words were harsh more often than not. Which was something he was trying to fix, when it came to some people, at least.

You knew that he was like that. And you knew that he wasn’t the type of a guy to just sit around and expect you to do all the housework, but it didn’t mean that you didn’t like cooking from time to time. Actually, maybe it was the idea that you didn’t need to cook, because he’d be more than alright with cooking if you asked him to, but rather that you could.

But today the dish wasn’t… cutting it. You had tried to taste it many times and there was something in the seasoning that wasn’t just… doing it for you. But you couldn’t really place your finger on what was wrong with it. Or not… wrong wrong per se, but it certainly could be better.

You leaned against the stove, and sighed to yourself, as the gears in your head tried to turn. But came up empty.

A drawer was opened, and closed. There was a sound of metal clicking against metal and steps coming closer, accompanied by a hum from a certain, masked, someone.

Zora dipped his spoon into the food and took a bite to test the taste. And after he had, he sighed, sounding disappointed before making his way to the spice cabinet and laying thme out onto the table.

“The balance is all wrong,” he said. “It’s mainly salty while you want there to be some sweetness to it for the contrast as well. A bit of acid would do wonders, but the real issue is that the spices aren’t complimenting each other,” he explained while taking the spoon and adding one spice after another along with other ingredients.

And you… took a step back and let him do it. Because if it was ‘all wrong’, why should you have interjected?

In all honesty, it made you feel unappreciated. Like you couldn’t even cook right. If I can’t even cook right, then why is he with me….? You found yourself thinking.

Before you knew it, your eyes had turned to the floor and you were grinding your molars together as tears started climbing to your eyes. And eventually, they ran down your cheeks as you were still immersed into your own thoughts, in how you didn’t think that you could do a simple task correct. Because surely Zora wanted someone by his side who could contribute as much as he did. Surely. So why was he-

“Hey babydoll?”

You looked up, and saw him standing there, having placed his hand onto your shoulder.

His eyes were deep, calm blue. Clear and yet deep blue. And there was worry in them. That was when you realized that you were crying and looked away while wrapping your arms around yourself.

He sighed, and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about the tone,” he said. “Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, and… I’m happy to eat whatever you make,” he tried but the consolation fell short, given how he had started cooking in your place.

You curled around yourself a bit more, without really meaning to, but you did. In any case.

“Come here,” he said while pulling you into an embrace.

Seconds ticked away for a while as he just held you, and the dinner was slowly cooking on the stove.

“If you want me to stay out of it, you need to just tell me, y’know? I know that I can be too harsh, and… And… I try to not be.”

He was trying to help you get better. But he could be a wee bit of a jerk about it at times.

“We both know I can be a real ass jerk,” he said with a hint of amusement, trying to make you laugh.

And it worked. “But you’re my jerk,” you replied with a hint of a giggle in your tone.

“That I am,” he replied. “And I hope you never need to get sick of me,” he continued while pulling away just enough to wipe your tears away.

You gave him a small smile as a reply to his careful one, and went back to cooking, together.

Nacht

Nacht had been a loner for most of his life. Someone who travelled down his own path without caring what everyone else thought. And it had made him someone who spoke directly about anything and everything he deemed to be topical to say.

Though he could also be harsh. Granted that he was the harshest to himself, but still. His directness could be harsh, and you both knew it.

He tried not to be, to you. He tried to treat you with the kindness that you deserved. He tried to treat you with the respect that you ought to be treated with. But sometimes, he failed.

Though watching him scold the Bulls for their shenanigans yet again, you didn’t think that he was trying all that hard to be constructive. Maybe he just wanted them to be efficient during missions, because that would drive the squad forward the best. ‘Not to be wasteful of energy’, or something like that.

“You could try going easier on them,” you told him later on when it was just the two of you. “Be kinder.”

“Kindness is a weakness,” he scoffed. “And Yami has let them slack off enough already which will get them killed. Only a fool would go easy on them.”

You stopped, thinking about what he had just said. Because you were going easy with the rest of the Bulls. You were kind to them. And Nacht. So… so.

You couldn’t help but think that Nacht had, there and then, revealed what he really thought of you. Though it wasn’t directed at you, he had been, still, indirectly talking about you too. Basically he had called you weak and stupid.

Basically.

Which made your eyes turn to the ground as you bit down your molars and tried to will away the tears that were climbing to your eyes. Because you shouldn’t have taken such an off-hand comment that wasn’t even said to you, to the heart in such a way but… But. It had struck a nerve in you.

“Hm? What is it?” He asked, having stopped and turned around to look at you, as if he hadn’t realized what he had said.

“So you think that I’m dumb and weak?” You asked with bitterness lacing your tone as the tears finally glazed over your eyes, but didn’t roll down quite yet.

“That isn’t what I said,” he argued, now facing you fully and taking a few steps closer to you.

“But I am letting them off easier and I am being kind to them. So. If being kind and letting them have a breather is-“

“You’re not responsible for them.”

“Neither are you!” Now tears ran, but you didn’t look at him.

You didn’t look, and he said nothing.

Surely, he could have argued that as a vice captain he was more or less responsible, but not to the same extent as Yami. And at the end of the day, all the Bulls were responsible for themselves. So, he didn’t need to care about what they did with their time. Really.

“You are not weak and stupid,” he said while taking you by the hand. “Quite the contrary,” he admitted. “And I shouldn’t have spoken so carelessly.”

He sounded like he was speaking out a ready made dialogue of a noble man that he used to be. But you supposed that he hadn’t needed to comfort anyone lately either. If ever. If he had ever needed to comfort anyone. Even himself, since he had denied such a thing from himself.

But he could see how the ready made dialogue wasn’t doing it. The words might have been there, but the sentiment wasn’t.

“Darling?” He whispered, while moving again a little bit closer to you. “I’m sorry,” he said while summoning his shadows and tugging you, as if to ask to come along with him. To which you nodded, and he transported you both to your bedroom.

As you stood there, in the sanctity of the room with the door closed, he finally wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “You are not weak. Or stupid,” he repeated. This time the tone was one that sounded genuine, caring, insisting. “I’m sorry for insinuating it.”

You nodded and returned the embrace.

“It’s simply that… not being prepared can get people killed…” there was a reason, in there, why he would remind you of such a thing.

“But people need to live too.” And there was no arguing over it. Because life was meant to be lived.

Not even he could deny it. “They do…” he admitted while holding you closer in his arms.

And it was in that embrace that you could feel his heartbeat, his remorse and regret. But most importantly, you could feel how he did love you. Because he did. With his entire heart and soul.

[donaweasley]

Promises to Keep

Pairing: Geralt x Fem!Reader

Plot:

Geralt is tasked with protecting a princess but his feelings keep poking at him, urging him to shed his tough armour and give in to his heart. But the witcher is a righteous man. He won’t succumb to his feelings so easily. Will he?

Some pining, some fluff that will lead to a “part 2” of this story.

Warnings: A bit of m.at.ure stuff. K.i.d.s better stay away!

Read time: ~15 mins

Note: This story has been based in a timeline before the fall of Cintra, and so, Geralt has not yet started his quest for Ciri. Oh, and he doesn’t fall in love with Yennefer. 😉

Prologue:

Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with many a difficult missions but the hardest of them all was probably not killing but protecting a person. That person was a princess whose parents had specifically called for Geralt to take their daughter under his wing as Nilfgaard marched towards their doorstep.

The princess could fight; she had been in battles but Nilfgaard had morphed into something entirely different from what the Continent had previously seen. It was as though Hell itself had poured into their army, leaving a trail of ash and blood wherever it went.

And so, turning all cries and protests from the said princess to deaf ears, her parents sent her away, in return of an assurance from her that, should their kingdom fall, she would come back and restore it to its glory, flying their banners from every nook and corner.

They knew she could, they had said.

The journey with Geralt had not been easy, moving from camp to camp, from inn to inn, not to mention the complications of his profession. But time gradually made things easier for them both, eventually bringing them to a point where they could comfortably pose as husband and wife so as to protect her identity, and avail a temporary shelter in a village.

And even though they were living a lie of being a married pair, their hearts often wished to forget reality, and enjoy the bliss of domestic life with one another. To be with each other unconditionally, forgetting all rules and boundaries.

But Geralt was a man of ethics, and she did not want him to bear the burden of guilt just because her stupid heart could not stop fluttering for this kind, brave gentleman with a heart of gold!

And thus, neither, for fear of straining what they already had, could ever utter their feelings to each other. After all, they had promises to keep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months ago:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She hurt herself on the thick leather armour as she flung her arms around his neck. But she did not care. That was a pain she would happily endure if it meant seeing Geralt at her doorstep safe and sound.

He smelled of sweat and blood and the swamp. He probably tasted like it, too. Alright, so what? The man returned after three weeks from the edge of the Continent. And perhaps from the edge of life. She couldn't care less about what he smelled or tasted like. But did he really…? She was very close to confirming her assumption - almost there - when Geralt suddenly remembered his place: the protector of the princess, a mere witcher.

“Princess,” the rich baritone vibrating in her ear woke her up from her purple dream. She could not help but lean back when she found her “husband” doing the same.

Geralt spread his arms slightly, and smiled with that usual softness in his eyes that came to the forefront only when she was around. “Safe and sound. Just like I had promised.”

“I am honoured!” She jested, and stepped inside, making room for Geralt to do the same.

“Give me a minute. I'll draw a bath for you. And once you have cleaned that mess off you, you'll have a warm dinner waiting,” she smiled and turned to make her way to the bath when Geralt gently but firmly held her wrist.

Neither could deny the spark that coursed through their veins at the contact. But neither would confess. Involuntarily, the witcher’s thumb made faint circles over her veins. Once he realised what he was doing, he slowly released her but their fingers lingered over the other’s before finally making some room between them.

Geralt pleaded with her to stop fussing over it all but the woman was ecstatic! Who could stop her from doing everything she could for the man she was falling in love with! Not even the strongest witcher.

And so, she hopped away to prepare a warm bath for him while he busied himself with the relieving task of removing his armour and weapons.

Geralt lay in the bath, pondering over the unsaid things that have been passing between the princess and him. Especially the ones that happened that evening. They had never been this close before, and it only made his breath shallower every time he thought about it. His mind wandered away unleashed every time his drunken heart slipped into fantasies of what could have happened had he not pulled away from her embrace…or what might happen if he allowed himself a bit more liberty with his feelings…

A gentle knock on the door startled him, bringing him back to the reality of the small room lit by two candles, back to the fact that the woman living under the same roof with him was his mission, not his real wife, as the villagers knew her to be. There was no way a witcher could dream of having a wife and a family, let alone with a princess!

“Need anything?” The voice was gentle, happy…it was caring. It made Geralt smile to think that someone cared so deeply for him, that he was actually having a domestic life, even though a fake one.

“Your company would be nice,” he quipped.

Geralt grinned wickedly. He did not need to see her to know the blush creeping up her ears and cheek.

Over the months their relationship - real or fake, whatever that was - had built into a strong bond, one that was made of cares, banters, challenges, huffs (and not just from the witcher), puns of all kinds and fluttering heartbeats. And though neither backed down during the banters or the puns, either one of them definitely ended up with blood rushing up their cheeks.

(Y/N) bit her lip and rolled her eyes. Two could play this game. Taking a deep breath, she cracked the door open. It startled Geralt, and she could tell it without seeing his wide eyes and parted lips.

“I believe you have a lot to talk about from your adventure?” She slowly walked in, eyes straining to look anywhere but at him.

She did not receive an immediate response. How could she! Geralt was spellbound by the boldness of this woman! It was inspired by his own recent boldness, perhaps, he wondered.

He cleared his throat, “Indeed.”

She picked up a small wooden stool, and sat with her back to him. “You were saying?”

“I would detail everything but are you sure you can stomach all that? And before dinner?”

Glimpses from his previous tales crept back, and she gulped at the gory imaginations that his words had painted in her head. Perhaps she could not. But would she confess? No!

“I’m tougher than you think, witcher.”

This was their usual way of addressing each other: “Witcher”, with a sarcastic stress in the middle of the word, and “Princess”, with a vanity enveloping the word.

When they had set out for their journey, she had requested him not to call her “princess”. “I have a name, and I would like to be addressed by it,” she had insisted. But Geralt had decided on maintaining his propriety.

When asked whether he would like to be addressed as Geralt or Witcher, he had simply mumbled, “Whatever you like, Princess.”

“Witcher it is then.”

And that has ever been going on, until recently when some rare moments witnessed them addressing each other by their names, and not what they were to the world.

In the small bathroom now, she heard a slosh behind her, signalling the rise of the large man from his bath. She tried her best to stop her shameless mind from picturing his wet body, dripping with water as he stood and stepped out of the tub, as he reached for the towel nearby and dried himself with it before wrapping it low around his waist. But the quiet of the night made sure that every little sound and movement reached her ears, leaving her a slave to her unabashed imagination.

Geralt grunted, the sound coming from right above her head.

“I know you can’t take it…Princess,” the last word was practically breathed on the shell of her ear.

Leaving her a total mess, Geralt sauntered out of the bathroom with a promise to indulge her in his stories after dinner.

That night, in the faint light of the moon, nimble fingers traced the contours of the witcher’s face as he slept - brows slightly arched, lips parted, face as serene as a dawn in Spring. She watched him breathe peacefully, devoid of the cares of the world, until a small smile cracked at a corner of his mouth. With eyes still closed, he placed a hand on hers and brought it to his lips. A chaste kiss was all it was, and yet it had her heart thundering. He had never - ever - shown any affection other than soft looks and gentle smiles.

“Sleep princess,” he rasped in a sleepy voice.

He opened his eyes once, to watch her smile at him, before holding her hand snuggly and drifting back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present day:

The sound of the door cracking open brought her back to the present. Quickly slipping a little more below the soapy water, she gripped the hilt of her sword.

It was Geralt. The moment he set one foot inside, his eyes went wide. It took him hardly a second to swing on his heels, to look away, but the sinful image had planted itself in his head. Probably for eternity.

“Pardon me. I…I did not know… I thought you were done. I just returned from outside; I did not notice that you were not anywhere else. I…”

“Geralt!” His name. She spoke his name! That, along with her soothing tone put an abrupt end to his string of stammering apologies. “It’s alright. I know you had no ill intentions.”

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet for a couple of seconds, he asked, “Do you need anything?”

Her lips stretched into a smirk as she recalled an old conversation that had occurred under very similar circumstances.

“Your company would be nice,” she quipped, just like Geralt had a few months ago.

The witcher recognised the joke immediately. A small smile escaped his usual serious features.

“I believe you have a lot to talk about your first kill,” he jested just like she had back then.

The sigh that filled the room made Geralt wonder if he had said something uncalled for. She was shaken by the incident but if she was making jokes now, she must be recovering. Right?

“(Y/N),” Geralt called without looking at her, “are you alright?”

“No, if truth be told,” came the confession.

He understood. Keeping his gaze focused on the floor, he took a few large steps until he was standing near the foot of the tub. In one smooth move, he was sitting on the floor with his back to her.

There was something about Geralt that made her feel protected all the time. Even in her most exposed and vulnerable state, she felt safe and comfortable with him around. And it was not just the love she felt for him. It was something else. It was something…very “Geralt”.

“The monsters we kill haunt our minds till long after. You never get used to it no matter how many kills you have made,” he sighed.

(Y/N) listened quietly. He was a man of few words, and at most times it seemed as though he was not even listening. But he always understood every single unexpressed emotion, every single unsaid word that she carried within her.

“Every time I close my eyes or every time I hear something, fear grips me,” she shivered at the thought. “You are right. I'm haunted by its memory, and … I cannot seem to shake the thoughts off. No matter how hard I try! I cannot even be courageous enough to convince myself that it is all in my head!” She slapped the water in frustration.

Unlike the witcher, killing monsters was not her profession nor did she volunteer for it. But what she did volunteer for was accompanying Geralt to a trip to the river caves for some herbs. Despite the witcher’s efforts to shield her inside the safety of their home, she managed to argue her way out of the proverbial safety net. Which is what led to the unforeseen event of her first close encounter with one of the many monsters that had become part of Geralt’s life. It also led her to, for the first time, being at the receiving end of Geralt’s fury for risking her life .

‘You were very courageous back there,” Geralt smiled at the memory of her driving her sword through the neck of the drowner, thus saving his own neck in the process.

“I had to be! Couldn’t just stand there and watch my favourite grumpy fellow die!” She jested about it but a shiver ran up her spine as she spoke. “It was disgusting, you know? I can still feel all the blood and slime on my skin.”

“It was also very brave. You saved my life!”

He had thought that his statement would make her proud but he was met with silence.

She spoke after a while. “You do know that I shall not be able to live anymore if something happens to you, don’t you? I shall only survive.”

Geralt’s heart suddenly felt very heavy in his chest. What she said was known information to him. Somewhere in his soul, he knew that she loved him. But to hear it aloud was totally unexpected.

“I shall be fine, princess,” he used his most assuring voice. “Do not worry about me.”

Unseen by him, a smile formed on her countenance. “I know, witcher.”

“Maybe we could talk about something else?” He suggested. “Take your mind off the monster?”

“Hmm… How is Jaskier?” She suddenly asked.

Geralt almost turned his head towards her in surprise. Almost. She was naked, having a bath, and the first “something else” that came to her mind was the bard??

“Jaskier?” He asked. “You wish to talk about Jaskier now?”

“Well, you wanted to talk about something else!”

Was that jealousy that she was sensing in his huffs? She hoped it was.

“He must be fine. I do not know.” He ended the topic as quickly as it had begun.

“Hmm.”

The princess laid her head back on the tub and closed her eyes. There was a comfortable silence. So comfortable that she did want to leave, did not want to do anything that might disturb the moment. Even though it was getting late. Even though Geralt still had to wash himself.

Geralt still has to wash himself! Shit! He must be hungry!

Her eyes shot open. “I’m sorry, I forgot you have to wash up, too! I shall be quick.”

The sudden splash of water pulled Geralt out of his own reverie, inadvertently causing him to turn around so as to ask her not to hurry. But the sight before him left him speechless. It was fortunate that she was too busy to see him else he would never have been able to face her in shame. Geralt turned back and shut his eyes as soon as he snapped out of his trance. But that did nothing to erase the image imprinted in his mind. Not that he wanted to.

She had pulled herself up slightly, as she tried to reach for the towel on the nearby stool. In the light of the candles, her body glowed golden as water cascaded off every curve of her body… down the side of her neck, her shoulders, two perfect globes that highlighted particularly well in the candlelight, perky nipples that had hardened in the water, the beginning of a lustful waist…

He did not hear her step out of the tub, did not hear the rustle of clothes as she got dressed, no. His mind was replaying the same thing over and over again. There was an evident twitch somewhere down his body. He faintly heard something about dinner and changing the water. The creak of the door pulled him back.

“I shall…” His voice was hoarse. “I shall change the water. You may leave.”

The change in his mannerism surprised her but then both his voice and attitude were gravelly most of the time. With a small “alright”, she exited, leaving him to his thoughts.

Dinner was quiet as Geralt tried to suppress the feelings bubbling inside him. He wanted to look at her and lose himself in her eyes. He wanted to tell her how he felt. Wanted to show her what it meant to unleash months of bridled love that he had been carrying within his entire being. He wanted to…

Gods! There were so many things that he wanted to do. But every time he talked himself into taking one step forward, his reality made him take two steps back.

And so, once again, he retired to bed without telling her anything at all about the whirlwind in his heart.

Geralt woke up sometime in the middle of the night, sensing some movements near him. Once sleep stopped fogging his senses, he realised that it was (Y/N) tossing and turning beside him in her sleep. Not only was she being restless, she was mumbling something incoherent that only got louder with her movements. It hardly took him a couple of seconds to realise that she was having a nightmare!

Geralt tried to wake her up: called her name, shook her. But she was trapped deep in her own head. He thought he heard something like his name but could not be sure. Seeing his efforts go in vain, he took her face in both hands and shouted her name while shaking her once more. He wasn’t sure if it would work but luckily, it did. With wild eyes she stared at him, as if trying to figure out where she was, trying to put up a wall between her horrid imagination and sweet reality. When she finally came around, she threw her arms around Geralt’s neck, causing him to tumble to the mattress with her below. Once again, he fought with himself as a wave of relief washed over him, eventually crashing into a strong desire to keep her encased in his arms and caress her for the remainder of the night.

“I dreamt that you were…” she almost sobbed. “That I had…” She couldn’t bring those bitter words to her tongue.

Geralt understood.

“You will never lose me. I shall always be by your side. I promise.”

In the dark veil of the night, in those weak moments, he made her a promise that even he did not know how he would keep, for she would be married to some royalty some day; she would have to go away, leaving him with his solitude and monsters. He could not keep her to himself nor could he watch her be with somebody else.

But that was a worry for another day. Right then, she was in his arms, and no one else’s. Even if for a moment, she was his. He lay on his side and pulled her to his chest. A hand cradled her head, drawing soothing lines through her hair, until her warm breath on his skin had become stable.

Geralt never seeked help or answers from the gods; he did not believe in them. But as he kissed the crown of her head that night, his lips prayed for her safety and happiness, and if possible, for her to be bound to him for eternity.

He knew he was being selfish. He did not know who heard his prayers or even if there was someone who might hear them. But he whispered them anyway, believing that it was the only way to make his wishes come true.

***

[ellieslaces]

NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

featuring: leon kennedy x fem!agent!reader x ashley graham

synopsis: ashley graham's biggest weakness is attractive people, especially kind, attractive people. she was not expecting to be saved by two of the hottest, kindest people she'd ever met, much less to end up crushing on the both of them

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; tension; lots of flirtatious banter; ashley shooting her shot for an entire fic basically; mentions of reader being bisexual; light smut; kissing (f!f & f!m); one bed trope; forced proximity; no real smut bc idk how to write a threesome :(

notes: takes place on the way back from Spain (technically post RE4R); one bed-ish trope (r&leon share a bed, and a room with ashley); ashley is sort of confused about her sexuality; semi-established relationship (r&leon); really more of a sibling dynamic between ashley and leon (it sounds weird, but its balanced in the actual fic, i promise)

word count: 6.13k (i’m so sorry)

chloe talks: was this entirely inspired by @postersofleon ? yeah, i read this post a week or so ago and i'm losin' sleep over it. so full credits to @postersofleon for the plot! luv their lil' drabble :) also, sorry this isn't more of a threesome fic. if it were a triple female threesome, i could work with that, but add a dick into it, i'm clueless. anyways, enjoy ashley fumbling for this whole fic (luv her, i just can't help embarrassing her shes so cute). also, please appreciate this, i wrote around 80% of this while i was supposed to be studying for an exam. that’s on adhd and procrastination :)

now playing: Nohings Gonna Hurt You Baby; Cigarettes After Sex

It is entirely possible that blondes were, indeed, your weakness. Sure, over the years, you'd come to realize there was something especially alluring about lighter hair - possibly the way it reminded you of the sun, or how each strand looked like spun gold. Although, what seemed to seal your fate was the ever dangerous pairing of blonde hair and blue eyes. Oh, how alluring and damning was the color of icy blue coupled with silvery, silken strands.

For a time, you believed your weakness was encompassed only within your field partner, Leon S. Kennedy. God, how handsome was that agent. Not only handsome, but brave, and kind - awkwardly so, but it really is the principle of the thing. It was painstakingly obvious to everyone, other than Leon it seemed, that you were completely and forlornly in love with him. It seemed you were equally as blind to the evidence that Leon Kennedy was also miserably in love with you.

But the one person who noticed it upon first glance was Ashley Graham. Not only for the clear obviousness of the situation, but because the feeling was entirely, and unfortunately mutual. And it was this girl who also awoke the realization within you that Leon was not the only blonde-haired, blue-eyed person you found enticing.

Though, you were not the only one in this clandestine triad who had an impending weakness for certain types of people. No, you were not, Ashley had an Achilles heel for graciously kind people. Not just kind, but attractive. Not in a shallow or superficial way, but to say more that a person would catch her eye. She had no pre-existing physical type - no particular hair color, eye color, or even height preference. Just that they be kind. And much to the First Daughter's dismay, you were both horribly kind. In your own respective ways, of course.

Leon — as aforementioned — was awkwardly kind, despite how well he meant. He never knew exactly how to word his concern, or how to come about comforting someone. It was usually said in simple phrases such as “you okay?” or in way of one of many snarky comments he had stored in the deep recesses of his mind. Ashley thought he was funny; sometimes.

You, on the other hand, were painfully sweet to her. Always reassuring her that she was okay, and you were going to keep her safe. Field medic, that’s how Leon explained your role in her rescue. You were there to keep her and Leon healthy and in one piece, which you were startlingly good at. Any bruise or cut she procured was immediately treated by your sweet disposition and skilled hands. She liked how gentle you were with her.

So yes, Leon was kind in an awkward manner, and you were kind in a practical sense. And that devastating combination was her inevitable downfall.

From the moment you and Leon found her in that church, she knew she was fucked. Because, how could people look that good while doing the sort of jobs you had? There was no way, no way she would ever be able to form coherent sentences around you two. But, somehow, by some miracle, she got on with you both quite well. Despite the obvious moments of third-wheel-ism because you and Leon were so close.

There where multiple reoccurring occasions where Ashley suspected the pair of you may be together. Or at least fucking on the side. Because no two people who are just partners have that dynamic. The constant tension, the way Leon could be protective or even overbearing sometimes. The way you would rush to his side to patch up his wounds — no matter how small and minuscule they were — after a fight. Sometimes, despite how endearing it could be, Ashley was annoyed. Sure, you two had known each other for an extended period of time and had just met Ashley that day. But, it became so aggravating when you would consult each other without the inclusion of Ashley.

Many times you would apologize to her, expressing how sorry you were for leaving her out of conversations or hypothetical battle plans. It wasn’t that either of you thought she was stupid or couldn’t handle it. No, it was more along the lines that you were used to it just being the two of you. There was rarely ever a third party involved — other than Hunnigan chatting away in your ear pieces of course — in these types of situations.

Ashely was smitten, to put it lightly. She’d made several attempts to quote-unquote ‘shoot her shot’ with Leon. Little comments of how brave he was, how thankful she was for his saving her. Even calling him her ‘hero’ on one occasion or another. His name had posted permanent residence in her vocabulary it seemed.

However, her means of flattery with you was completely different. She was a little more bold with you, seeing as you were more of an open person than Leon was. She partook in the cliche, yet never failing flirtatious mannerisms — simple touches, giggling at your jokes, or simply sticking to your side in dangerous situations. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice, no, you just turned a conscious blind eye to it all. Ashley was a college girl, a sorority girl, a privileged girl. She was probably used to using flattery to get what she wanted, to gain the attention she so desperately thrived on.

Though as your time in the hostile Spanish village went on, you came to realize that it wasn’t superficial, Ashley’s flattery toward you and your field partner. Absolutely not, far from it. You realized after Leon had carried her to Luis’ laboratory and you managed to get the machine working to expel the parasite from her body, that Ashley was totally and completely smitten with the pair of you. She was attached in the worst way. And that would be your inevitable downfall.

Leon was consciously blind to it. Your partner — no matter his selfless tendencies and his awkwardly kind nature — was melancholic. He had a firm belief he was predestined to be miserable. That there was always another shoe waiting to drop. He didn’t deserve happiness, peace, love, a good life. So, he ignored it. He ignored how Ashley was equally as taken with him as she was with you. He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t even act like he noticed. Oh, but you did.

You saw the attachment so clearly by the time the three of you had managed to escape the crumbling island via Ada Wong’s gifted jet ski that Ashely was so attached to the pair of you. She’d offered positions on her own personal detail to you, claiming she could put a word in with her father. Denials were made, kind smiles and the shaking of heads. Too kind of an offer and you liked your jobs, is what you’d told her. That wasn’t at all what you were thinking though.

Post a Hunnigan meltdown over your earpieces, the three of you were told to stay the night in a shabby, rundown little local hotel in a larger town a couple dozen miles south of the village. Still in Spain, still tired, still craving a warm shower. One room, two beds. Great, one of you was stuck sleeping with someone. Ashely offered for one of you to have a bed to yourself, she’d sleep with the other. Not a great idea. You and Leon — having spent many awkward and difficult missions together, so this was not strange to either one of you — decided on giving Ashley a bed to herself and taking the other together

If you’d been alone, oh how your lovestruck little heart would have burst. Sharing a bed with Leon Kennedy, the object of your affection. The sole performer in your wildest — and wettest — dreams. But you weren’t alone. Ashley was in the room, a matter of feet away, in her own double sized bed.

If she hadn’t been — to be vulgar and completely honest — nothing would have stopped you from fucking him then and there. The tension between the pair of you had been growing thicker since your arrival in Spain. It was thick, painfully so, and also horrifically obvious not only to you, but yet again, to Ashley. For the longer stretch of the mission, she’d expected a grand confession at any moment. A breakdown caused by a dangerous situation that ensued a moment of emotional and even physical vulnerability. But, to her dismay and yours, that never happened. Because, above all things, Leon was professional for a lack of a better word. He wasn’t going to allow his emotions to jeopardize the mission.

And so no breakdown of emotional distress and vulnerability played out. No confession of hearts bleeding for the other were cried out. Part of you was glad it hadn’t happened that way. But the larger part of your soul which was dedicated to Leon had wished it had. You longed for the day he realized he needed you too. But, to maintain professionalism and dignity, neither of you made such admissions.

Warm showers were taken in rotation in the tiny excuse for a bathroom. The shower was small and permanently stained with grime, but really was clean as the owner swore. The shower head was one of the older ones from the seventies that made the water come out in a dribble, then a forceful rainfall that hurt your back. The toiletries provided by the hotel were small and cheap, but you were clean. That’s all that mattered.

Sans dried blood and grime, you sat on Ashley’s bed, cross legged as you patched up each one of her injuries. Ashley had been the first to shower, after a fifteen minute debate with the two of you over who should go first. She had a few bandages and exposed scrapes that needed to be re-cleaned. So, with gentle hands you did so as Leon took use of his turn to shower.

“Looks good, no signs of infection so far. But, like I said before, I can’t tell too much without the right equipment.” You reassured Ashely as you finished patching up a cut on her arm and began to put your first aid kit back together.

“Thanks,” Ashley nodded, inspecting her scrape riddled skin. Small bruises and surface cuts were beginning to make their appearance, telltale signs of the brutality the three of you had endured in that village.

“Let me know if you feel feverish or see any swelling. That could mean infection.” You offered, being kind but stern.

“‘Kay,” the girl nodded, smiling up at you as you let out a sigh, leaning back on your hands on the bed.

You looked at her, smiling softly as your head tilted to the side a little. “Need me to kiss it better?”

At this, Ashley’s eyes went wide, her cheeks dusted with pink. You felt a little bad then, you just tried to ease the tension. “S’okay, Ashley. I was just playing.” You laughed, your tone lighthearted as you placed a gentle hand on her knee with an equally gentle smile.

It seemed the touch was worst than the comment. Ashley’s entire face went aflame, her eyes wide, and large as she stared at you. An uneasy ache settled in your chest, uncertainty lingering in the air as your smile faded. The initial shock between the pair of you didn’t last long as the door to the bathroom swung open.

“Jesus, you could’ve left me some hot water.” Leon grumbled as he stepped out into the room, lips downturned and brows etched in an annoyed frown.

The three of you were now paused as Leon’s eyes fell on you and Ashely — or more-so on the hand that rested on Ashley’s knee. Reality seemed to snap into place all at once for you, yanking your hand back and standing up.

“Let me check you out.” You mumbled, clearing your throat as you picked up the first aid kit and took residence on your own bed.

“No, I’m fine. Check on Ashley,” Leon shook his head, damp blond strands sticking to his forehead.

“Already did. Just finished. Your turn, whether you like it or not.” You stated, your tone final as you looked up at Leon, brows raised.

The agent let out a huff of agitation, grumbling something indiscernible as he sat down on the bed beside you. You began to gently inspect Leon's wounds- some small, others more intense. Despite his prior hesitation to be taken care of, he was stoic about it all. He sat still, unmoving, silent as you worked to disinfect and cover each wound with fresh bandages. The silence in the room was loud, startlingly uncomfortable as you patched Leon up.

A quick glance over at Ashley as you finished bandaging a deep cut that you'd quickly stitched up on the field showed her wide eyes. Wide baby blue focused on the way your fingers gently worked, how graceful and careful they were again the alabaster tone of Leon's skin.

"Doing okay over there, blondie?” Leon inquired, a small smirk playing on his face as he spotted Ashley's startling gaze on the wounds decorating his skin. He had mistook her fascination of your hands as nervousness of his wounds. But you knew. You could tell what her gaze meant.

"Oh, yeah. M'fine." Ashley recovered very quickly, to your surprise. Well, maybe it wasn't just your hands that had her enraptured, Leon was sitting on the bed, shirtless.

"Alright, hero-boy, all better." You smiled at Leon as you patted his bicep - earning a small, almost inaudible grumble from him - and moving to close your medical kit. You stood, tucking away in your pack and let out a sigh. "’Kay, l for one, am fucking exhausted."

“Yeah, me too,” Ashely murmured, an aura of discomfort still radiating from her. She offered a kind, if not awkward smile to the pair of you before settling into the bed, pulling the overs over her shoulders. “G’night.”

“‘Night,” you smiled, shuffling over to the bed you and Leon were sharing. You sat down on the edge, eyes trained on the back of Ashley’s head — the blonde hair, how it shimmered against the dim light of the single lamp in the room. You felt almost as if you weren’t really there.

“Need me to check you?” Leon asked, snapping you back to reality. You jolted a bit, looking at him from over your shoulder.

“Oh, nah, I’m okay.” You shook your head, clearing your throat as you settled into the bed, flicking off the lamp.

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, getting into the bed too, still in just a pair of pants. Everyone was in the barest of clothing. You in a tank top and underwear — Ashely in the same. It was all you had. All your clothes were soiled with dirt, and grime, and blood.

Thinking of nothing in particular, you laid there, staring up at the ceiling of the dark room. The walls creaked every once in a while, odd drafts filtered in from cracks in the ceiling or from the window. It was too quiet. And it stayed that way for a long while.

“Everything okay with Ashley?” Leon asked, his voice quiet, as not to wake the subject of conversation.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled back, turning your head. He, too, was on his back. Both of you too afraid to face each other in bed, seeming too personal. “Why?”

“Just making sure.” His response was quiet, a little too nonchalant, as if he’d forced it to be casual. “It was awkward earlier.”

“Earlier?” You decided to play dumb, despite knowing that Leon wouldn’t believe it. He was well aware you knew what he was talking about. The touch. How Ashley had frozen when you’d touched her leg.

“Whatever, play stupid.” He scoffed with a half smile — a knowing smile. The bastard. “Just saying, she seems attached to you.”

“Oh, and she’s not with you, her hero?” You bit back with a hint of humor. Your voices were still low, hoping Ashely was asleep — or she couldn’t hear you if she wasn’t.

Leon laughed quietly, a rough scoff sound that echoed in your ears. You smiled at little at that sound. “Whatever you say,”

You frowned, gaining the confidence to shuffle onto your side, facing him as you contemplated what that simple, yet heavy ‘whatever’ meant. “What do you mean, whatever?”

Leon sighed, rolling onto his side to face you too. His eyes, still so blue even in the darkness of the motel room, bore into yours. It seemed he didn’t carry the same awkward feeling about this topic as you did. Or, maybe he did and he just hid it exceptionally well. But knowing him, that didn’t seem right.

“She’s just attached to you. Always at your side, or chatting your ear off. And what the hell was with that earlier?” He continued, brows furrowed in their eternal frown.

“I was patching her up. Making sure none of her cuts were infected.” You half shrugged, trying to play it off as something simple, even though it was so complex.

“She looked like she wanted to kiss you or something.”

“Oh, my God,” you rolled your eyes, trying to push away the way your chest tightened at the though. “You’re so fucking dramatic. She wasn’t gonna kiss me.”

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, his tone final and casually dismissive. Like he was finished talking about it. Like he didn’t believe you but didn’t want to say so.

“She was not going to kiss me.” You pushed, voice quiet yet firm. Your own brows were pulled into a frown, like what he’d said was offensive.

But it wasn’t. Kissing Ashley wasn’t a bad thought. It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed another girl before. The first time you had was in the training program for USSTRATCOM, your training partner who made you realize that all girls don’t look at other girls that way. She was the first, others followed.

Ashley was pretty, very pretty. Tall, pretty lips, and the blonde hair, blue eye thing, of course. Kissing her wouldn’t be so bad, really. It would probably be very nice. But nothing like kissing Leon, though.

“Okay.” Leon said again, shifting to lay on his back again, letting his eyes close. The finality of it all aggravated you. So, you asked him a question maybe you shouldn’t have.

“What if she did?” You asked, eyes narrowed and trained on him. A smile bloomed on your face at the way his eyes opened, his brows furrowing deeper at your question.

“What about it? It’s not my business.” Leon grumbled. But the tone he used made it wound like it was very much his business.

“M’kay.” You nodded, quietly celebrating to the way you’d seemed to have stumped him, surprised him.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. He stared at the ceiling, and you stared at him. It was deadly quiet, the rhythmic sound of Ashley’s breathing the sole sound in the room.

“Did you want her to?” Leon asked, mumbling quietly. His eyes stayed on the ceiling, as if he were afraid to look you in the eye when you answered. Afraid you had an answer he wouldn’t like.

“I dunno.” You admitted, honestly. You didn’t know, truly you didn’t. Kissing Ashely wouldn’t be so bad, but you hardly knew the girl. Not to mention her heavy attachment to you. It could get worse if she kissed you.

Leon nodded, not sure of how to answer your admission. He laid there, your eyes on him as you laid on your side. You wished so desperately for him to kiss you, or hold you, or do something. It was painful, the thought that he didn’t feel the same.

“Would that bother you?” You dared to ask, voice so low it was almost inaudible as you spoke.

Leon was still quiet for a long moment, maybe considering whether to answer seriously or with his usual dry humor. The latter won. “Not something I’d wanna walk in on.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Why? Because we’re girls?”

“Because she’d be kissing you.” He responding, saying it lightly, like the meaning of that simple sentence wasn’t the heaviest thing you’d ever heard.

Your mind did circles, your heart raced. Did he mean that because you were his partner? Or did he mean it out of jealousy. God, you hoped it was jealousy.

“What do you mean by that?” You questioned, voice apprehensive and unsure.

Leon shrugged, a soft, unintelligible grunt falling from his lips. He didn’t look over at you, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. The nagging feeling that was ever present in your chest worsened. The silence was deafening, painful. Then, finally, he spoke.

“It’d just be weird. It’s Ashely, it’d be weird.” He mumbled, like even he didn’t believe his own answer.

Leon’s words befuddled you, made you frown in contemplation. “Because it’s Ashley? What you mean by that?”

“I mean it’s Ashley. It’d be weird.” He repeated, not clarifying at all. This annoyed you.

Eyes narrowed, lips in a line, you scoffed. “Thanks for the explanation.”

“Anytime,” Leon clipped back playfully. But you were in no playful mood.

You huffed, Leon picking up on your attitude as you sat up in bed. “Seriously, what’d you mean by that?”

Leon let out a scoff of his own, rolling his eyes as he looked over at you. “I mean it’s just a weird thought. You and Ashley. We, we just met her, okay?”

“Oh,” you nodded, wishing you hadn’t jumped to your own conclusions internally. You’d thought he meant it was weird because she wasn’t him. Or maybe that he wanted to kiss you. Not such a simple and obvious answer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh to stifle a yawn. “Look, can we get some sleep now? Kinda have a long trip home tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” You mumbled, lying back down on your back, eyes on the cracked ceiling once again.

It was quiet again, the discomfort of silence present once more as Ashley slept in the bed next to yours, and Leon tired to sleep beside you. Your mind buzzed with a thousand variations of the same question: why did Leon actually care so damn much?

“Go to sleep. You think too loud.” Leon grumbled, shifting to lay on his side, back facing you.

“At least some of us think,” you quipped quietly, earning a scoff of a laugh from him before he went silent for the final time that night.

Of course Leon woke up at dawn. The asscrack of fucking dawn. And it wasn’t like he was quiet either. Shuffling of his feet as he stumbled to the bathroom, the sink creaking on. You tried so hard to stay asleep, but your stupid internal alarm clock was ringing too. Oh to be in D.C. where it was still dark.

“C’mon, get up. We need to get moving.” Leon said, his voice somewhat gentle as he rested a hand on your shoulder once he’d emerged from the bathroom, fully changed.

“I’m up. You’re loud.” You mumbled, voice muffled as you pressed your face into the pillow.

“Jesus,” Leon whispered under his breath. “Even Ashely’s up.”

“Good for her,” you nestled deeper into the pillow, hearing a second set of footsteps head toward the bathroom. Less than five short seconds later, Leon yanked the covers from your body, sending a muffled yelp from your lips.

“Up, we need to move.” Leon said again, giving your leg a small shake as you grumbled on about a lack of sleep. His gentleness was gone now, replaced by urgency.

Technically, you were still on ‘enemy grounds’. You weren’t safe until you were back on U.S. soil, and even then there carried a risk with Ashley in tow.

So, with more sour encouragement from Leon, you got up and changed into your now dry clothes. Once Ashely used up her turn in the bathroom, you took yours. And not long after, the three of you were heading back toward the lobby of the shabby motel.

You managed to convince Leon to stick around for an extra thirty minutes for a shitty cooked breakfast in the sad excuse for a dining room where the motel offered complimentary breakfast.

Once full of frozen scrambled eggs, stale toast, and really bad coffee, the three of you were on the move once more. It was tricky, getting home like this. Hunnigan had promised that of you made it to a certain location a few miles north of the motel, there would be a chopper waiting to pick you up. Hunnigan hadn’t failed you yet, so you didn’t doubt her.

“How much further?” Ashley asked, her brows creased, forehead already glistening with sweat as the three of you walked through the winding streets of a small village as you had been for the past few hours.

“Not too much. Tired?” You asked, slowing your steps to walk alongside the girl.

She nodded, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Sympathy panged in your chest — Ashley wasn’t built for this like you and Leon were. The two of you had trained for exhausting situations such as these, she had not. You frowned.

“Need some water?” You asked gently, holding out a canteen from your belt. Ashley nodded vigorously, taking the canteen and drinking deeply.

You motioned to Leon to stop for a moment, he frowned, but did nonetheless. You stood with Ashley as she drank, taking a break before going back to drinking the water.

“Thanks,” she smiled, handing the canteen back to you — now half empty. “Sorry, I drank a lot.”

“That’s okay. Can’t have you passing out on us now, can we?” You smiled, taking a sip yourself before latching it back on your belt.

Leon, noticing that Ashely was finished with her break, began walking again. You and Ashely followed, keeping a small bit of distance between you and Leon.

“Hey, I um, I overheard you and Leon talking last night. Not everything, but some of it.” Ashley confessed, her voice a bit hesitant.

“Oh, that so? What’d you hear exactly?” You asked casually, worry springing in your chest.

“Just, I’m sorry because I know you guys have a like, groove or whatever. And I mess it up and I make it weird.”

You frowned for a moment, thinking about her words. Then it hit you — she didn’t hear about the kissing discussion, just the last bit about her being new to the trio.

“Oh, Ashely. You don’t make anything weird. Leon and I… we weren’t talking about you making things weird.” You promised, lips curved downward as you and Ashley walked behind Leon.

“Then why’d Leon say that?” Ashely asked, the insecurity obvious in her voice.

You hesitated, unsure whether or not to say it to her face. That he’d thought you two were going to kiss. After a moment of consideration — and seeing Ashely’s sad, curious eyes — you decided to just say it. Consequences be damned.

“Because he thought you were going to try to kiss me. When he came out of the bathroom last night.” You explained gently, shrugging as if it weren’t a big deal. When it kind of was.

The girl was quiet for a long moment, her brows creased, lips turned downward. She swallowed, looking back at you from where she’d been staring at her feet. “And he meant it’d be weird if I did kiss you?”

“Yeah, that’s what he meant. Not because we’re girls,” you were quick to interject your previous statement. “But because it’s just… that you and I don’t really know each other that well.”

Ashley nodded, walking beside you as you followed Leon along the uneven stone paths. Every once in a while, he’d glance backward to make sure you weren’t lingering behind or somehow gotten lost.

“Okay,” one simple word carried such finality. It shook you — Ashley was uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird. I just wanted to be honest.” You tried to explain gently but firmly. You didn’t want her to think you were strange.

“You didn’t make me feel weird.” Ashely shook her head, eyes squinting in the mid-afternoon sun as she looked over at you.

You smiled a little, relieved you hadn’t put her off or made her uncomfortable. That really was the last thing you wanted. “Good,”

The three of you continued to walk along, and a little further up, you demanded a break. Leon huffed, claiming you didn’t have time for a break. But the sun was warm and you were quickly running out of water.

So, you stopped for a quick fifteen minutes before setting off again. Leon was walking much quicker than before — dead set on getting to the extraction point before sundown. Which was very much possible as you were a mere four miles away.

There was a chopper waiting, just as Hunnigan had promised. God, you’d mentally decided to name your first born after her, so thankful to finally leave Spain and sit your ass down.

You sat beside Leon in the back compartment of the chopper, all three of you sporting massive headsets to protect your ears. You chatted away with the pilot — a friend of Hunnigan’s named Danny who was funny, and reminded you of the late Mike who died in pursuit of getting you and Leon out of trouble in the village.

With the promise of a good meal and actual hot showers, Danny flew the three of you home. You were busy looking outside the chopper when Leon nudged your knee with his, earning a slightly venomous glare from you before he pointed to Ashley. Who was dead asleep across from you.

The ride back to D.C. was long, around six hours. Most of which were spent talking with Danny or falling asleep, slumped against Leon’s shoulder. Around twenty minutes before you were set to land — you and Leon had been previously discussing what you were doing first, eating, sleeping, or showering — you shook Ashley awake.

The poor thing was groggy and half asleep as you all filed off the chopper and bid goodbye to Danny — whom you’d made a promise to meet up with and have drinks in honor of Mike at his favorite bar he’d mentioned before he tragically died.

A government issued SUV waited for you, instructing the three of you to pile into the back so you could be taken straight to the President, then to testing. Which you put up a damn good fight. Who the fuck cared about testing? You were hungry and tired and dehydrated as hell. Leon shut you up quick though, despite not being happy about the arrangement himself.

Unfortunately, the car ride was around a half an hour. The driver — not as intimidating had he’d first appeared — flicked between radio stations ntil he landed on one he knew was Ahsley’s favorite. (Apparently he’d been the one to drive Ashely to college, so he knew what music she liked).

Much to Ashely’s dismay and deathly embarrassment, the fucking Backstreet Boys were playing. The driver turned it up, also having the knowledge that this particular track was one of Ashley’s favorites.

Unfortunately, you knew the lyrics too. You mumbled along with them, Leon biting back a smile at how ridiculous his own field partner could be.

“You like the Backstreet Boys?” Ashely asked, her cheeks a bit warm as you bopped your head to the beat and hummed along.

“Nah, but don’t be embarrassed.” You shook your head, smiling at the girl who was sitting between you and Leon.

“Music is music, blondie.” Leon agreed, nodding his head with your positive attitude. He looked back over Ashely’s head at you, trying hard not to smile at your antics. God, you could be so stupidly immature sometimes.

“Oh,” Ashley mumbled, slinking down further in her seat as the driver made the final turn and parked the SUV.

Leon exited first, then Ashley, and you to follow up the rear. You and Leon were armed, still charged with protecting Ashely, no matter the fact that you were indeed on U.S. soil again, and at the White House. The President didn’t greet you outside to your surprise, but you were ushered immediately to his office.

There he was reunited with his daughter, the emotional moment making you have to quietly clear your throat because it even choked you up to see Ashley so happy to see her father again.

You and Leon were thanked profusely, promised your compensation and the highest of honors and awards. To which you didn’t really want (except the money, fuck, you wanted the money), but you knew better than to even try to deny.

With that, you and Leon were quickly dismissed, told you were being led to government testing to be sure you really were clear of the parasites. You gave Ashley a quick goodbye smile and hug, Leon giving her a pat on the shoulder, telling her to behave herself.

She looked so unsure, so strange standing in the Oval Office, clothes grimy and blood stained, hair mussed as she watched you and Leon being escorted from the room.

The First Daughter felt a strange sort of emptiness in her chest then, watching you leave. Her brows furrowed as her father spoke incessantly to her about how worried he’d been and how much he missed her. You were agents, assigned to bring her home and leave. No more, no less. So why was she so devastated to see you go?

Of course, you felt a little sad to leave the girl behind. Despite spending only around forty-eight hours with Ashley, you found yourself realizing you’d miss her. Her smile and her comments and her laugh. The way she always asked if you were alright when you should have been doing so to her. How she tried her hardest to defend you and Leon, despite her chronic helplessness.

These things were not spoken to Leon though as you two walked out of the White House together, followed by guards back to the SUV you’d arrived in. But, even though you didn’t say it, you knew Leon felt it too. Somehow, in forty-eight short hours, Ashley had left a mark on you. The both of you. And you missed her already.

“Wait!” You stopped in your tracks, you and Leon almost simultaneously looking over your shoulder to see Ashley running out of the White House after you. She was panting, trying to catch up.

She ran to Leon first, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking the agent by such surprise it made him stumble backwards a bit. Leon wasn’t much of a hugger, you knew this personally. But, despite the action being hesitant and awkward, he hugged her back.

After a few moments — which you knew in your bones were long for Leon — he gave her a quick pat on the back. Ashely took the motion in stride and unlinked herself, smiling at him.

Then, she turned to you. Of course, you expected a hug as well, and you got one. She wrapped her arms around your neck too, you wrapped your arms around her middle, hugging her back with no hesitation. But what you hadn’t expected, was for her to lean back and press a kiss to your lips.

You paused, frozen, eyes wide as Ashley kissed you. What the fuck? She wasn’t a bad kisser, actually. You felt a little bad, not kissing her back as Ashley pulled away, letting go of you and taking a step back. You sort of wished you had kissed her back. But, as the girl stood there, she held no contempt for the fact that you hadn’t. She knew she’d taken you by complete surprise.

“Thank you, both of you. I know I already said it, but thank you for saving my life. It, it means a lot.” Ashely said, her lips — which had been as soft as you thought they were — curved in a sweet smile. Baby blue eyes darted between you and Leon.

Leon who was as shocked as you that Ashley had kissed you with such little hesitation. He was still recovering as well.

Ashely said no more, just offering one last wide smile before turning around and walking away. Her guard — which had followed her outside, running behind her — escorted her. She didn’t even look back, didn’t get a second look at the still shocked look on your face.

“Holy fuck,” you said finally, looking away from Ashley’s retreating figure to look at Leon. He was shocked as well, brows raised as he blinked for a moment.

“Yep, that was weird.” Leon mumbled, nodding as if in affirmation. He said no more, turning around and walking to the SUV, leaving you in momentary silence.

You blinked yourself back to the present, realizing Leon’s comment. You frowned, turning and quickly walking to the SUV as well. “So I didn’t just have a dehydration induced hallucination? She actually kissed me?”

“She actually kissed you,” Leon nodded as he buckled in the SUV, you climbing in and sitting beside him. The car started and rolled out of the parking lot.

“Oh my God.” You said, brows raised, shaking your head. You were unsure of what else there really was to say. You were at a total loss for words.

“Fucking weird.” Leon shook his head, whispering again.

This caused you to look over at him, brows raised. “Why? Because we’re girls?” You brought up your challenge from the previous night, knowing full well you’d get the same damn response.

“No, because it's you.”

You frowned deeper, lips downturned. Oh, you liked a good fucking challenge. “You think I’m like, un-kissable, or something, Kennedy?”

Leon rolled his eyes, exhaustion obviously catching up to him. He looked tired — physically and mentally. “I didn’t say that. It’s just weird.”

“See, that’s not an explanation. Just like it wasn’t last night.” You chided, eyes narrowed.

“Christ,” Leon mumbled under his breath as shook his head, clearly regretting ever speaking in the last five minutes. “It’s just weird to see my partner being kissed like that.”

You took this as your chance, a grin forming on your lips. “By another girl? Or just in general?”

“General.” Leon responded, obviously not caring of how bored it sounded.

“Jealous or something?” You challenged further, lips pulled in a shit-eating grin.

Oh you’d gotten him there. You could tell by the way Leon’s shoulders tensed and his too casual expression that he was, indeed, sickeningly jealous. An idea — stupid, one that may ruin your dynamic — popped into your head.

You turned your body to face Leon in the backseat, grinning as he frowned at your sudden closeness. With no hesitation or moment for him to react, you leaned forward and kissed him. Square on the mouth. It must be a thing for blondes to have really soft lips.

Leon didn’t say a word, didn’t pull back, didn’t move. He just let you kiss him. Which was strange in and of itself. You placed a hand on his cheek, him a hand on the back of your neck. Eureka, he’d wanted to kiss you all along. Fuck yes, that’s all you could think.

Leon was a decent kisser too, a really good kisser actually. You scooched a little closer, allowing him to hold you by the back of your neck, your body relaxed against his as if it were natural to do so.

Was this what Ashely was feeling when she’d kissed you? Absolute elation and joy? You didn’t let yourself wonder too much, getting swept up in the fact that you were kissing Leon. His hand was gentle yet firm on the back of your neck, your hand on his cheek drifting down to rest against his chest. This moment, God you wished it could last forever.

Which unfortunately, it didn’t. You heard someone clear their throat, the driver looking at you through the rear view mirror. You pulled back, cheeks a little warm. You must look like some sort of girl. Someone who got around maybe. First the First Daughter had kissed you, now you were verging on making out with your field partner in the backseat of a government vehicle.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, pulling away from Leon and sitting back on the seat.

Leon scoffed to himself, letting his hand fall from where it’d been resting on the back of your neck. “You’re stupid,”

“Excuse me?” You let out a small laugh. You’d kissed him and he was calling you stupid? What the hell?

“I can’t believe it took you that long to realize.” Leon shook his head, making you roll your eyes. He’d been jealous the whole time. So the comment of how weird it’d been that Ashley would kiss you — and actually had — was exactly what you thought. Huh, you were some amateur detective.

“Shut up,” you smiled, mumbling as you crossed your arms over your chest, sinking into the seat.

“Nope.” Leon shook his head, making you smile wider.

Maybe these tests wouldn’t be so bad, now that you had two kisses to think on. One you could only ever remember, and one you could receive a million more of once all this was over.

how you can help Palestine! 🇵🇸

[totaly-obsessed]

can you write something for mary when she could be having a bad day or something and the reader helps cheer her up

Lucky Gloves

Mary Earps x reader request

-> Mary just needs her girlfriend after a hard day, but it's date night

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You were late.

Not that you really had somewhere to be, it was more just an annoyance – it was date night. Every Thursday the two of you would go out together, just a little tradition you had carried through two years of dating each other.

“I’m sorry love, let me get changed quickly, and then we can be off.” You rushed into the house, not even seeing Mary anywhere but you were far too stressed to notice.

Ten minutes later, now changed out of your teacher attire you started to look for Mary when she was not read by the door like she usually was. “Mary?” You could not hear an immediate response, furthering your panic. “Baby?”

“Hmm?”

Ah. There she was.

But after following her vague noises you did not find her in a casual-chic outfit ready to wine and dine you like she usually did. “Mary? Love, why are you still wearing your training stuff?”

The goalkeeper did not answer aside from a deep groan as she burrowed her face deeper into your favorite fluffy blanket. Wordlessly you sat down next to the couch on the ground, rubbing her back. “Baby? Are you okay?”

Finally, she turned her head, now facing you. Tired puffy eyes meeting your own. “Sorry love. Let me get dressed.” With cracking bones your girlfriend started sitting up, not expecting you to throw yourself on top of her.

With you straddling her lap, hugging her close to you, she had no way of leaving. Of course, she could just stand up with you on her hip, but she would never use her strength like that, too scared that she would hurt you.

A couple of minutes of careful coaxing and cooing in her ears let the brunette finally relax, nuzzling her face into your warm neck – humming with contentment. “What’s up with you my love, huh?”

Mary would never admit it to her teammates, no matter how much she loved them, but here in your shared home, with you on her lap was the only place that she would ever call home. “Had a really shitty day.”

“Awwh, I’m sorry honey. Why don’t you take a shower and get changed into comfy clothes and I’ll get us some food, huh?”

As good as that sounded, it was Thursday, and it was the goalkeeper's turn to choose the place to eat, and she didn’t want to disappoint you. You, who had shitty days all the time and never needed to be treated like a baby. “But it’s Thursday baby. It’s my tu-“

The blonde couldn’t whine further as she was shut up with her favorite lips giving her a soft kiss. “Nonsense love – quiet night in. Doctor’s order!”

A soft laugh escaped her chest, letting you relax just a little. “Who’s my doctor then?”

“Me of course – silly girl!” Your blatant lie of being a doctor only made the older woman laugh harder, pushing you off her lap. “Alright then.”

Twenty minutes later you were changed into one of Mary’s ‘MAE27’ shirts, fuzzy socks, and some shorts that definitely weren’t yours either. “Supporting me, I see.”

Warm arms wrapped themselves around your waist, Mary’s head finding its favorite place in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses wherever she could. “I’ll always support you, baby.” And she knew you meant it, even without the deep kiss that followed your silent promise – but she was thankful for it either way.

Mary laid the cutlery down on the couch table, ignoring your perfectly made dining space, opting for comfort instead.

So here you were, each a bowl of your favorite soup in your lap while the goalkeeper’s feet kept digging into your sides.

“So, you wanna tell me what’s made your day so bad then, love?” You had both finished your bowls, so Mary took it upon herself to steal yours from you, setting them both down on the table before laying back on the couch – pulling you on top of her.

Your front pressed snuggly against yours as her prize-winning hands found their place in your hair, giving you a massage.

“This morning I woke up without you – bad enough. Then I couldn’t find my lucky gloves and spilled my coffee. So I wanted to go to that tiny shop down the road, yeah? I get there – closed! Can you imagine? So I get to training and all Mark did was yell at me, fucking hate that prick. And then Ella – goddamn Tooney goes and fucking lobs me. The cheek the girl has! And, oh my god, she didn’t shut up about it!”

Mary’s rant continued for a while, finally getting everything off her chest. But no matter how shitty her day was, here in your arms life was perfect.

[papercorgiworld]

A+ for Blaise Zabini

A Blaise Zabini smut

Minimal plot, maximum smut, where you taunt Blaise about having better grades than him but then things escalate. 

Haha when I said that I was back yesterday, I meant it. Apologies for the wait, I hope it’s to your liking. I just love that I'm writing again! So thank you for sending your request. Lots of love and of course happy readings!

Warning: smuttt

— The request —

hi! i really like your writing and i was wondering (if you’re comfortable) if you could write more blaise smut? thanks!

— The writing —

You wave your test results in front of Blaise Zabini as you both leave the classroom. “Hah. Look who is the superior one… again.” With dark eyes Blaise looks at you, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he tries to keep his cool. “You got lucky.” He says drily walking past you in the hallway. “It was a test. It has nothing to do with luck. You either know your material and pass as gracefully as I did or you, you know-” “What?” Blaise snaps and turns around. His friends raise their eyebrows but don’t stay to watch to show. Suddenly it’s just you and a very pissed off Blaise Zabini. 

Honestly, you knew you kind’ve had it coming, but you also weren’t sorry. Him and his little group could be so annoying and getting back at him, pissing him off, was just so funny that you couldn’t resist. “Lost your tongue there?’ Blaise smirks at your delayed response. “No.” You say, but you fail to come up with anything sassy. You blame his closeness, his handsome figure towering over you. He snorts and before you realise it snatches your test from your hands. "Really impressive.” He mocks as he pretends to check your answers, but also keeping it out of reach for you. “Give it back. If you want grades as good as mine then start studying instead of stealing my test.” 

“I have better grades in every class. This one little stupid test doesn’t matter.” He waves the paper in front of you and you grab it, but because Blaise doesn’t let go of it, it tears. “Merlin!” You yell and Blaise just snorts. “Your own fault.” Your eyes widen. “My fault?” You reach for your wand and Blaise’s eyes fill with panic. He quickly shoots to you and grabs your hand, pointing your wand up to the ceiling and away from his pretty face. Now, close together, he meets your eyes. “Let’s not do anything stupid. This could seriously get you in trouble.” Your eyes are still filled with rage as he says those words. “Like you care, you only want to save your own skin.” 

“If you were as good looking as me, you would understand.” Blaise plays and you roll your eyes, but the anger subsides as you realise that an easy spell can fix your torn test and won’t get you detention. “Let go of me Blaise.” You say, sounding annoyed but calmer. “Promise not to hex me.” He whispers, his lips moving closer to your ear, making you look up at him in curiosity. You notice a sparkle in his eyes, something you’d never seen before. There was something playful in the always so reserved slytherin. 

There’s this moment of intense silence as the air between you two fills with sexual tension. “Blaise-” You breathe out not really knowing what you wanted to say or what you wanted from him. Blaise’s eyes move to your lips still parted from saying his name a second ago. A breathy sound escapes Blaise as he pushes you against the wall. One arm resting next to your head, while his other hand keeps your hip pinned against the wall. You lean your head back against the wall as a silent way of surrendering to what is about to happen. His lips hungrily crash on to ours.  

He pushes his whole body against yours and you feel overwhelmed with sensation as his warmth fills you with lust. His hand moves to open the door of the broom closet right next to you. “We are not doing this.” You state with a soft voice and your stern eyes meet his. “No?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, not convinced by your weak protest. Merlin, this man is attractive. Like he can read your thoughts he smirks and moves a hand to gently squeeze your ass, making you jump a little and allowing him to pick you up. You wrap your legs around him as he walks you into the small space to push you against a wall and kiss you passionately. With one flick of your wand you lock the door and he genuinely looks impressed by your quick thinking and use of magic. 

His lips hover over yours. “You’re far from innocent.” You roll your eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.” You demand, moving a hand to the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. To your disappointment he’s quick to move away from your lips. “I had something else in mind.” You frown for a moment and are little concerned over his smug smile. Blaise finds your confusion both adorable and amusing and he slowly and teasingly moves to his knees, making you throw your head back in realisation. 

His fingers tenderly move up your thighs as he places soft kisses while pushing up your skirt. Your breath hitches as he lowers your panties and continues to kiss you. He wraps his arm around your leg pushing one leg over his shoulder, making you whimper in anticipation. “Please.” You manage to say, swallowing your pride and urging him to give your pussy some much needed attention. Instead of gloating in your desperation for him, Blaise is more than happy to be a gentleman and take care of the lady in front of him.

He grips your hips and passionately sucks and licks at your sensitive spot, making your breath go unsteady as you try to keep yourself from moaning loudly. After a moment of trying to keep composure you fully surrender to him, allowing yourself to rest on his strong shoulder and sinking your cunt onto him. He's pleased to have you all to him and feels himself get harder as you struggle to keep quiet. You gently buck your hips as you feel yourself get closer and his fingers dig into your skin as a response to your neediness. “It’s okay, pretty girl, just relax.” Blaise almost moans against your pussy and you cling to the shelves behind you for support as you moan his name louder and hornier than intended. While you feel your climax rush through you, Blaise feels himself get painfully hard. The sound of his name coming out of your mouth in such a filthy way did things to him and the way he got to taste you almost made his mind go blank. He wanted and needed that moment to last forever, but it didn’t. You went quiet again as you came down from your high. 

However, Blaise was eager to relive that moment and wasted no time getting up and meeting your lips. Your hand moves to the back of his head as you meet his passion in the kiss. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.” Blaise breathes in between kisses and before you can respond he continues. “So fucking gorgeous.” His lips move away from yours so he can take in your figure for a moment before kissing you sloppily. “You haven’t seen the best part yet.” You tease and push him away to undo the buttons of your shirt. His eyes are glued to your fingers working those buttons and you love how hooked he is. “Hey Zabini, this isn’t a one man show.” You play and tug his shirt. As you slip down your shirt he quickly pulls his over his head, before slamming his body against yours again, like magnets that pull towards each other. He admires your lingerie for a moment before quickly undoing your bra, while you work his belt. His pants drop to the ground and he tugs your skirt until it also slips down. In love with your breasts Blaise gently cups them, massaging them while kissing you hungrily.

He slips two fingers through your folds, making you moan and part your lips so he can sneak his tongue in and kiss you roughly, silencing your moans as his fingers stretch your pussy. Once you’re throbbing and soaking wet for him, he pulls his fingers away making you cling to him as he teases your sensitive cunt with his precum soaked member. He enters you slowly but pushes deep, his eyes never leaving your glassy ones as he fills you with his length. He cups your cheek and kisses you. “So good.” He breathes with a husky voice, trying not to moan as he feels like he could climax just because this intimate moment felt so good. He manages to give you one more sweet but sloppy kiss before hiding his face in the crook of your neck and fucking you at an amazingly steady pace, hitting you right every fucking time and making your mind go hazy with pleasure. It was like he was on a mission to make you see stars and you cling to him, nails digging into his skin, like he was the only thing on this earth. Pornographic moans slip out of your mouth and Blaise can no longer keep himself quiet as you both close in on your orgasm. 

Blaise’s animalistic grunts and moans fill your ears as your legs tremble in his hands and your second orgasm hits you, making you softly dig your teeth into Blaise’s shoulder to keep yourself from moaning his name too loud. With sloppily moves Blaise works your sensitive pussy until he cums. Panting, he presses his forehead against yours. His high is keeping him from saying anything, but his dreamy look says it all and you steal a tender kiss from him, making him smile like an idiot. “If this were a test I would say you passed with flying colours, A+ for Blaise Zabini.” A soft and exhausted chuckle escapes Blaise. This one really is something.

Word count: 1606

[hrryshoney]

only angel

A/N: the ppl voted and my blog is a democracy. i’ve written a couple blurbs abt this but here is the full fic :) i love this freak nasty man so here u guys go. (also, don’t like it? don’t read it! ;)) abt 3.6k words. also ty to my friends molly, olive, and josie for helping me out w bits and pieces of this. ily guys @think0fmehigh @automaticllamacycle @ilwysleep

warnings: smut 18 +, breeding kink, cum play, degradation, praise, size kink, corruption kink, taboo topics/power imbalance (doctor/patient), fingering, a lil oral (fem receiving), light choking, light spanking (once across the face, completely consensual), masturbation w toy (f!), mean dom!matty, use of Bunny, maybe petplay if u squint, dom and sub dynamics, problematic age gap maybe (reader is 22/23, matty is 29/30), dirty talk, lots more this is filthy etc..

You felt restless. Matty was at work, and you were home clenching your thighs together. You didn't have a class today, and so that meant no distractions either. You were ovulating, and your body was making sure you knew that fact.

Matty had left you aching this morning. Riling you up on purpose. Lingering touches on your thighs, caressing your bare skin. He didn’t listen to your whines or pleas, condescendingly reminding you that he has ‘important work to do, more important than getting you off.’ So, you lay in bed tossing and turning. Waiting for Matty’s return, however pathetic that sounds.

And time seemed to drag, nothing working as an efficient distraction. Every time you turned in bed, you swore you could smell Matty's scent each time. You couldn't find a comfortable position, and you were seriously contemplating going back to sleep. There was no reason for you to be awake anyway. Not when you had to just wallow here.

You would touch yourself. Slip your hand down under the waistband of your panties, rubbing your clit until you cum over your own fingers. But, you did make a promise. A promise to Matty this morning that you would be a good girl and wait for him to get home from work. That if you did wait, he would reward you.

You were on the brink of insanity, to disobey him or not? You didn't think you could, so you let your eyes flutter shut. Falling back into a state of light sleep, the white noise of the fan lulling you into a dream that you weren't going to remember when you woke up.

...

You woke up the same way you went to sleep, a dull ache between your legs. Grinding your teeth together, you threw the covers off your hot body and made your way to the bathroom. You were happy your boyfriend had a master bedroom with an attached bathroom, it made everything easier. You reached for your toothbrush, catching your reflection in the mirror. And, maybe you did look a little desperate. But who could blame you? It was really Matty's fault.

After you brushed your teeth, you decided you would take a cold shower. If nothing could snap you out of the state you were in, surely this would. You reached in, turning the handle to the coolest setting. Grabbing two towels and hanging them over the glass, stepping into the shower.

Even being in the ice cold shower for at least 20 minutes was no help. Images of you and Matty in the shower together came flooding back, only making you clench your thighs together more. How he would squeeze your hips if he was here, pressing you up against the glass and moving to get between your legs.

You shook your head as if trying to rid yourself of the thoughts. Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped one of the towels around your body. Opening the door to the bedroom, you walked to Matty's dresser and took one of his old band tees out. You threw it on after drying yourself off, along with a pair of simple white panties that had a small bow on the front. The pair you had worn when you first met him, you smiled at the thought.

After that, you crawled back into bed. You really had nothing to do. No work to catch up on, no shows to watch, and nothing to focus on. Your attention still lingering on the way your cunt throbbed under the fabric of your panties. You tried to remind yourself, listen to your promise.

But weren't promises made to be broken, anyway? You reasoned with yourself. You knew Matty. You knew that even his punishments could be taken as rewards. You knew that he could never do anything too bad to you. So, break the rules you did.

You tried to lose yourself in the pleasure, fingers working yourself as you shut your eyes tightly. But they didn't hit the same spots that Matty's did. And they never felt the same. Then, you remembered. You remembered the toy Matty had bought you so you could use it together. The one he kept in a shoebox in his closet, along with the other toys you two would frequently use.

You got up from the bed, searching for the black box on the floor of Matty's closet. Finding it almost immediately, taking the lid off and searching for the toy. A dildo that was almost as big as him, the next best thing if he wasn't there for you. Not that it felt nearly as good, but it sufficed when you were desperate like this.

Walking the familiar journey, you lied back down on the bed. The cold sheets making goosebumps raise on your arms. Matty's scent completely enveloped you now that you had his shirt on. You ran your hands over your own body teasingly. You knew you didn't have to do much to prep yourself, you've been ready all day.

You let your fingers slide under the band of your panties, tracing your slit. You were already so wet, moaning quietly as your finger bumped your clit. You moved the fabric to the side, beginning to get impatient with yourself. Your fingers swirled around your entrance, collecting the slick that was dripping from you and bringing it up to your clit.

You rubbed circles on your bundle of nerves, resisting bucking your hips into your own hand. You took the toy, bringing it down to your hole. The tip of the dildo prodding at your entrance, you pushed it inside of you slowly. Moaning out, one of your hands slid under your (Matty’s) shirt to tweak at your nipple. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood.

Pushing the toy fully inside of yourself, you brought your pointer finger to rub lightly at your clit. You could feel yourself clenching around it, brining your hand back to the base so you could move it in and out of you slowly. You breathing picked up, chest heaving as you allowed yourself to give in to pleasure.

That was your first mistake, you guessed. Or maybe that was not checking the time when you woke up. As you didn’t hear Matty’s car pull up in the driveway. Nor did you hear the front door close, or his footsteps as he made his way up the stairs. You didn’t hear the creek of the door, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back in pleasure. But, you did hear the clicking of someone’s tongue. You gasped, hand coming to splay out over your chest. Eyes opening wide, head shooting up to see your boyfriend standing in the doorway.

Your body was warm all over. The fact that you had gotten caught, but also breaking his rules? You felt shame creep up your neck. The toy was still inside of you fully, cunt dripping wet as you looked at the smirk on Matty’s face. He walked over towards the bed, shaking his head the whole time.

“What’s this, princess? Didn’t listen to your Doctor’s orders?” He mused, knee leaning on the bed as he rubbed your bare thigh with one hand. He trailed one finger from your leg, scratching his fingernail over your abdomen as he brought it down to your other thigh. You twitched slightly and he chuckled.

You whined as Matty practically drank you in with his eyes. His hand coming up to bunch his old band tee between his fist. “N-no, m’sorry, Doctor. But you left me. You left me, and I’ve been so needy all day.” You felt childish, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. The faux pout you received back from Matty only made more arousal pour out of you.

Matty ignored your words, gazing at you like a predator. “Use this often when I’m gone, baby?” He pointed at the you, gesturing as if he was disgusted at the thought of you using it alone. “Only cock you should be taking is mine.” His tone was full of condescension and it made you dizzy. You clenched involuntarily. His eyes followed the movement, looking between your legs.

“Please, Doctor. I’m sorry. I want you so bad.” You begged for him, lashes fluttering as you looked up and tears filled your lash line. “Need you inside of me, it’s not the same. Want you to fill me up.” And maybe you were laying it on thick, but it was all the truth. You’ve been so needy for him all day.

“S’a shame, bunny.” He laughs at your reaction to the word, rolling your hips into the air. “You couldn’t listen to me. Think you deserve to get fucked with a real cock? That’s only for good girls, not whores like you.” He traced the outline of your panties that were pulled aside, lingering for a moment. Tapping the base of the dildo inside of you, he stretched the band of your elastic and let it snap back against your skin.

You groaned, feet planted on the bed as you raised your hips up. He circled your clit, pinching it lightly and watching the shock run throughout your body. “I- I am good, Matty. Please, I wasn’t gonna cum without you.” You whimper as Matty slaps the toy again, then grabbing the base and beginning to move it in and out of you.

Matty scoffs at your words. “You weren’t going to, or you just couldn’t?” He says with a definite tone, pulling the dildo fully out of you. He ran the silicone toy through your slick, then tapped it on your clit three times. You dig your nails into the sheets, trying to not move. “Wanna see you stuff yourself with it, since y’were so eager.” Matty takes his hands off your body completely, moving to the tent in his pants.

You could see that he was straining against his work pants, cock begging to be released from the confines of the fabric. You could imagine how it looked, all flushed and pretty, leaking precum for you. Matty palmed himself over the material, letting his hips buck up. He squeezed his very visible length. You swore your mouth watered.

Your hand went to the toy, body begging for some type of friction. You fucked yourself with it, getting lost in the way Matty looked as he rubbed himself over his pants. It felt good, but it wasn’t him. You would never be able to cum like this. “Doctor Healy, please. I need you so bad, you’re the only one who can make me feel like this. Nothing else.” You pleaded with him, hoping he’d show some mercy. Maybe you were wrong earlier, maybe Matty could stand to punish you.

As if he read your mind, Matty just smirked at you. He was almost breathless as he shook his head. “You couldn’t be a good girl, my good girl, and wait. Now you have to be satisfied with a plastic dick, princess.” His grin made you infuriated, skin heating up. You moved your hand between your legs faster, closing your eyes. You felt a slap on your thigh, your skin stinging from the impact. Your eyes snapped open. “Look at me. You were thinking of me, right? Well, now I’m in front of you. Don’t be selfish, bunny.” He spit his words at you meanly, the smirk on his face making you lightheaded.

You thought you could cry. You kept a steady rhythm, but you just couldn’t hit the right spots. “Please, Doctor. Need your help, can’t do it by myself. Don’t wanna think.” You jutted your bottom lip out, hand slowing down as Matty sat up straighter. He stopped palming himself, leaning closer to you. His hands trailed up your thighs, meeting between them where your hands were.

He took over, how moving the toy inside of you with more fervor than before. His other hand came to swipe at your clit, the position had you moaning gutturally. The lewd noises that emitted as he fucked you were enough to make you embarrassed. Of course, Matty had something to say. “Little slut can’t even touch herself properly? Guess I’ll have to teach her.” He moved the dildo at a particular angle that had you screaming out.

“Oh my God, Matty! Right there- Please, I’m gonna cum.” You barely got through your sentence before three of Matty’s fingers were on your clit. They rubbed the nerves harshly, determined to get you to your climax. Your whole body shuddered as you came, slurring out a mix of his honorific and his name. Falling from your lips like a prayer. Matty fucked you through your orgasm with the toy, pulling it out of you when he saw you had come down from you high. You felt Matty’s tongue come to lap at your clit, flattening it against your juices. Your hands immediately came to tug at his hair from overstimulation.

He leaned up, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. His hands were on either side of your jaw as he slipped his tongue in your mouth. He swallowed your moans, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Don’t we taste good together, princess?” You nodded obediently at him, and you saw the glimmer of mischief in his eye. “Wanna taste yourself again?” He asked nonchalantly, bringing the dildo that had just been inside of you to your lips. You opened your mouth eagerly. Lips wide and tongue flat, Matty shoved the toy inside your mouth. You moaned around the object, the taste of your own juices coating on your tongue. You opened your mouth and swirled your tongue along the tip for show, watching as Matty’s eyes darkened and jaw clenched. “Don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” He pushed the toy aside, shoving your jaw away.

His hand wrapped lightly around your throat, and he brought three fingers down to your entrance. You were already so fucked out, and you knew he wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Matty’s moved his hand and pushed your (his) shirt up over your chest. He pinched and played with your exposed nipples, sucking on them until they were completely hard. He blew on your sensitive buds, reveling in the way you squirmed from the cold air.

He pushed two fingers into your cunt easily, already being so wet and open for him. You gasped, clenching your thighs as me moved his digits rapidly. “Tight little cunt, even after I stretched you out like that. Practically fucked you open.” He shook his head, spitting on your pussy. “Can’t wait to fuck you dumb, princess.” He added another finger, stretching you out even more. “Perfect little cock sleeve for me. M’glad you know your place.” Matty spoke blissfully, almost more lost in it than you.

“P-please, Doctor. Need you inside of me. Want you to fuck me and fill me up.” You babbled and nodded your head, trying to chase another high as Matty’s fingers never ceased their relentless pace. You didn’t even realize what you said, but you realized how he slightly faltered. Rhythm stopping for a beat, breath hitching. His hand moved to your stomach, pressing down.

“Yeah, princess? Want me to put a baby in there? You want everyone to know you belong to me, that your doctor got you pregnant?” He snickered, removing his hand from your pussy. He took his fingers up to his mouth, sucking off any remnants of you.

Matty stood up to unzip his pants, finally feeling relief on his hard cock. He unbuttoned his top, shrugging it off to the floor. You got lost in his tattoos, how his muscular arms bulged every time he moved. You knew your mouth was agape, and you were just feeding his ego even more. But how could you not? Especially when he steps out of his pants, pulling his briefs down. His hard cock almost slapped against his abdomen, the tip an angry red color. He was leaking pre cum, and he stroked himself twice as he squeezed his length in his fist. “Open your legs for me.”

You put your legs up on the bed, opening them as wide as your body allowed. Your panties that had been pulled to the side were now fully discarded of, as he roughly pulled them off your body. Muttering something of how he ‘wasn’t gonna let anything get in the way.’ He lined himself up with your entrance, but didn’t push himself inside of you. You took that as your window to beg for him.

“Doctor- Matty, please. I need you inside of me so bad. Just wanna feel your cock inside my cunt, it’s all I need. Wanna feel you cum inside of me.” You whined out, your rambling coming to an end as he pushed inside of you without warning. Matty made you take him to the hilt, burying himself inside of your warm cunt. Your slick pouring out around him.

Matty pounded into you, hand finding home on your neck again. His hips slapped against yours, combining with your wetness and filling the room with filthy sounds. Both you and Matty’s moans filling the empty spaces. “Cunts clinging to me, just sucking me right in. Can tell she wants me to cum inside of her.” Matty stopped his rhythm for a moment just to slap your clit. “Tell me ‘thank you’.” He said smugly.

The way he talked about your pussy made you clench around him in embarrassment, face heating up. He tightened his grip on your throat, squeezing the sides. You felt dizzy in the best way possible.

“W-why should I? You haven’t even finished with me yet.” Your smirk and bratty attitude didn’t last for long, he lightly slapped you across the face. Just enough for it to sting. Your body felt like it was buzzing, and your hole clenched around him.

“Messy girl.” He tsked, hips stuttering. He pulled his cock out of you. Making you whine in protest. “Shouldn’t even fill you up, bad girls don’t deserve my cum.” You know he’s bluffing, but your eyes go wide in fear. He wouldn’t leave you high and dry.

“N-no! Matty, m’sorry. Please, Doctor. You know I need it.” You folded immediately. Your body was restless from the lack of contact know, the only thigh touching you were his hands ghosting up your sides.

He ignored your pleas. "You know, bunny," You moan out as Matty speaks, running the tip of his cock through your soaking folds, pulling back when you try to arch into him. "Best time to try and knock you up is right now, when you're ovulating." Whines fall from your lips helplessly, pleasure being robbed from you as he keeps pulling away from your cunt. Of course he remembers the cycles of your body. "Gotta make sure it takes. Can't have you wasting my cum, right?" He chuckles at your reaction, his thumb pressing down on your clit as he brings his cock to your entrance again.

You feel full again as he presses into you, and your body felt like it was on fire. You nodded along to everything he said, easily obeying him. You needed to cum, and you needed his cum, too. “God, Matty. I’m close, please.”

“Hold it.” He replies, rubbing hard and firm circles on your button. “Tight hole is creaming around me. Little bunny, should get you a collar. Tie you down and keep this pussy stuffed full all day.” You groaned out, no longer being able to string a coherent sentence together. All you could do was shake your head. Matty chuckled. “Yeah, bunny? Like that idea? Maybe we should get you a tail, too.” Your senses were on overdrive. Matty really was fucking you dumb. And he almost seemed pussy drunk himself.

“Come on, princess. Cum around my cock, let me feel you.” He spit on his fingers, bringing them down to your clit, letting it drip down to where you two were connected. It sent you over the edge, coming for the second time that night. Your eyes rolled back in your head, throat already sore from how you were screaming his name and title. You felt Matty’s dick twitch inside of you, his steady pace faltering.

“Fuck- gonna fill this cunt up.” He groaned out in a raspy voice, and you felt the warm liquid painting your insides as his chest heaved. You moaned at the feeling, loving how he felt inside of you. You could see beads of sweat on Matty’s forehead when you opened your eyes, and a blissful smile crossed your face. You moved the hair from his forehead, and he smiled back at you.

When Matty pulled out, you winced from the empty feeling. He watched as his cum started to leak out of you, reaching up by your head to grab a pillow from the top of the bed. He positioned it under your hips, scooping up the cum that had already dripped out and pushing it back inside of you. He bumped your clit as he did so, enjoying the way you jolted. He let his fingers slip inside of you again, hooking them as he found that spot that made you go crazy. You felt tears prick your eyes. Matty poured in faux sympathy. “Oh- I know, baby. I know. S’that my spot? Just know this little cunt too well.” He curled his fingers inside of you again, leaving them now to act as a sort of plug. You giggled, slapping his shoulder. “Matty!”

“What? M’gonna make sure you get pregnant.” You could barely see the brown in his eyes, pupils completely blown out. He smiled, leaning in to kiss the top of your forehead. “Wanna see you all round and full of me. Even if that means fucking you every day this week, and again tonight.” And from his tone of voice alone, you knew Matty was deadly serious.

[irb-pascalito-99]

I Can Keep a Secret

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (no outbreak AU)

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: insecurity, jealousy, smut, p in v sex, oral f!receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, grief

Summary: The relationship between Joel and Ellie’s older sister is complicated after the two share some tense moments while Ellie is in the hospital. Once Ellie is able to go home the two meet up during their lunch break to discuss where to go from here.

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter eleven on my fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more of this pairing check out my a03.

We eat lunch at a diner nearby. The waitress, a tall woman named Esther with thick brown hair and bright blue eyes, comes by the table frequently. She does her best to flirt with Joel, batting her eyelashes and holding his arm as she refills his coffee cup each time she passes by. I fight the urge to say something, a pit of jealousy growing in my stomach each time she reaches out to grab his arm, but Joel doesn’t seem to notice her attention.

She comes by the table again to top off his cup. I watch her manicured hand grip his bicep as she asks if he needs anything else. He looks over at me, raising his eyebrows to ask if I need anything. When I shake my head he briefly thanks her for the coffee and turns his attention back to me.

“So, sounds like you had a long morning. Is it just about Ellie going back to school?” I take a bite of one of my fries.

“For the most part,” I respond. “I also had this meeting with the social worker this morning so…”

Joel nods, giving me space to continue if I want to but not pushing the conversation in any way. I know I should be opening up more. I’m trying not to fall back into my usual isolation, but I keep the wall there. It’s comfortable on the other side, safe.

He notes my apprehension toward continuing the conversation, so he moves on. I watch him rub the back of his neck again. It must be a nervous habit of his.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about the other night,” Joel says.

I take another bite of a fry, fighting the blush creeping up my neck as the memory resurfaces. My body feels hot as I think about it. His hands on my hips. His moans in my ear.

“I just wanted to clear the air a little. It feels like things have been a little tense lately, with the kiss and then the moment at the party. I know you’ve had a lot going on, and I don’t want to pressure you or anything,” He says his words slowly, as if examining each one before he says it.

Esther watched us from the counter, her eyes skipping from him to me. I feel angry watching her assess the situation, like she’s trying to make a claim to something that’s mine. Except, Joel isn’t mine.

I try to ignore Esther and focus on Joel when he continues. “I completely get it, if it was a heat of the moment, just want to feel something, kind of thing. We can just leave it at that and never talk about it again, but I want to know what it is for you.”

What is it for me, the big question. I knew I’d have to define it soon. It’s been keeping me up at night. I think about it while I paint. Every stroke of brown reminds me of his eyes. The golden light filtering through tree lines reminds me of the warmth of his arms around mine.

“I don’t think,” I try to formulate my thoughts. I like him. I know I do, but I have baggage that he shouldn’t have to deal with no matter how much he claims he can handle it. “It wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing. I mean, the moment gave me the courage to act, but I meant it. I wouldn’t take it back. I think I really like you.”

A smile tugs at the edge of his lips. My heart leaps at the gesture. “Me too.”

I bite my lip and push some of the fries back and forth on my plate. He wants me too. My stomach is doing somersaults. I nearly jump up to yell my triumph across the room at Esther, but I think back to Ellie and the promise I made to Marlene.

Jumping into a relationship right now, with Ellie’s best friend’s dad, would put everything I’m working toward in jeopardy. What if something went wrong and it caused issues between Sarah and Ellie? What if Ellie found out and hated me for it? As much as I like Joel I can’t afford any mistakes right now.

“I can’t give you what you deserve though. I can’t give you the whole relationship thing. I have to be careful though,” I blurt out. Joel places his mug back on the table. “In that meeting with the social worker, she said some things. I really like you, but Ellie comes first. Ellie always has to come first.”

“I understand that, I’m the same with Sarah.” Joel responds. He reaches his hands across the table and I take it in mine. “I’ll take you in whatever way I can have you.”

My heart sinks at his concession. It’s sweet, and every girl’s dream, but I don’t feel deserving of it. Why should he be relegated to stolen moments behind closed doors? It’s selfish to ask that of him.

Just then Esther crosses back over to our table. I pull my hand back from Joel’s grasp as she approaches. She grabs his bicep again and I got my teeth.

“Everything alright over here, sugar?” She asks Joel, completely ignoring me.

He flits his eyes up to her face and smiles back at her politely. Blood rushes through my ears as I watch her grip on his arm tighten. Screw it, I’ll be selfish. I grab Joel’s hand again and turn my attention to Esther.

“I think we’re good, thank you.” I respond with my best fake smile. Esther’s eyes move back to me and then my hand holding Joel’s.

“Alrighty then,” she says. She lets go of his arm and sulks away.

—

I rush to unlock the door the second Joel texts me to tell me he arrived. Sure enough, he’s standing on the front porch, the glow of the porch light illuminating the waves in his messy brown hair.

We’ve kept things quiet over the last couple days, being careful not to act any different around other people. It seems best to keep things secret for now. We’re not in a relationship, it’s more casual than anything. I’ve waited all week to get my hands on him. There was no good way to sneak in a visit during the school week, but the girls are having a sleepover at my house tonight. I texted him when they finally fell asleep and he came over immediately.

I look at the empty street around him and then grab a hold of the collar of his shirt and pull him into the house. He grips my hips for support as he follows me inside, smiling against my lips when he leans down to kiss me. I’m careful to close the door and lock it as quietly as I can to ensure the girls stay asleep in Ellie’s room upstairs.

There’s an excited energy coursing through me. I’m not sure whether it stems from the newness of this thing with Joel, the building pressure off barely having seen him sided we agreed to see what this is, or the rush of sneaking him around like a secret to be preserved just for me. Whatever it is, my body aches to feel him, to hold him, to be felt by him.

“Somebody’s excited,” Joel chuckles as he pulls my body closer to his. He kisses me again, deeper this time while he holds my hips against his.

“I need you,” I respond when we break away from each other. Joel squeezes my hips tighter, a low moan escaping his chest.

“Say it again,” Joel pleads.

“I need you, now Joel.” I say again. He whimpers at the sound of it. We don’t have a lot of time together tonight. He still has to head home when we’re done so the girls don’t get suspicious, and I can’t wait any longer. I press a quick peck to his lips and then take his hand to drag him up the stairs.

He quickly follows at my heels. I take him to my bedroom and push him back toward my bed. He topples onto the mattress, his hands gripping the sheets at his sides as I climb on top of him. I press my knees on either side of his thighs and lean down to press delicate kisses along the column of his neck.

“Fuck baby, what’re you-“ he gasps when my hands reach down to his belt buckle.

His body is already twitching under my grasp while I slowly undo his belt and throw it behind me on the floor. I lower his jeans next. His hands move from where they had been grasping the sheets to squeeze the sides of my thighs. I make quick work of his shirt next, pulling the buttons open and kissing down his exposed chest.

I press kisses all the way down his body, nipping and licking at the skin from time to time as well. When I reach the waistband of his underwear I press a kiss to his hip and slowly pull the boxers down his thighs as he throws his head back and groans.

His cock springs out at me, hard as a rock already. I’ve felt how large Joel was through his jeans before, when he pressed me down on his lap to grind against him until I came, but to see it is a completely different thing. Joel is huge, his cock easily bigger than any I’ve ever seen before let alone been with. The tip is already leaking a bead of pre-cum which I happily lick into my mouth.

His hips twitch as my lips press against his tip and he makes a quiet hissing sound through his teeth. I take his reaction as encouragement to continue, licking a delicate stripe up the side of his shaft. His hands tangle in my hair as he desperately fights to keep his moans quiet. I take more of him in my mouth and start bobbing my head up and down.

“Yes baby, god,” Joel groans. “Good girl, you’re doing so good.”

I hum appreciatively at his praise, causing his hold body to shiver and his hips to buckn further into my mouth. I choke slightly at first, but quickly adjust to take more of him down my throat.

He’s having a hard time suppressing his noises now. One of his hands adjusts in my hair to hold it in a makeshift ponytail while the other moves to his mouth. He bites down on his hand to muffle his sounds as he watches me through heavy eyes. I pull up for a moment, swirling my tongue around the tip before sinking my mouth back down again.

“Fuuuuccckk,” he moans around his hand. He starts to thrust his hips up, unable to hold back any longer. I welcome his length deeper into my mouth, the tip of his chock brushing against the back of my throat with each thrust. I continue to moan while my eyes water.

I haven’t always enjoyed this part, many of my boyfriends before were so rough with it, and quick to move on once they got what they wanted, but the sight of Joel coming further and further undone as I take him in my mouth makes me clench my thighs to ease the pressure at my core. I could do this all night, enjoying the feeling of him taking what he wants, but suddenly he pulls me off of him.

“Stop, stop,” he says exasperated. He breath comes out in pants while his cock twitches against his stomach.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” I ask. Joel leans down and uses his thumb to wipe my cheeks off the tears that escaped while he fucked my throat.

“No baby, that was so good, but if you didn’t stop I was gonna come.” I stick out my bottom lip and pout.

“Isn’t that the point?” I ask. I reach my hand out to start pumping him again, but he grabs my wrist.

“Not before you it isn’t. I gotta be inside you tonight.” I whimper and he pulls me onto the bed.

Joel adjusts our positions so I’m splayed out on the bed with my head on the pillows. He slowly pulls my old t-shirt over my head, revealing my naked breasts. He groans at the sight of them and quickly lick over one of my nipples. My back arches into him involuntarily. It’s my turn now to muffle my sounds as he sucks on my nipple, releasing it with a pop before moving on to the next one.

When he’s satisfied he lowers his lips to nip at the underside of my boob and moves his hands down to push my sweatpants off and onto the floor. He traces his fingers over the center of my soaked panties.

“You’re so wet for me sweetheart,” he says. He moves his lips up to suck on my neck while he moves his fingers in circles over my panties. “She really been needing me that bad?”

I whimper in response, nodding my head in desperation as I squirm underneath him. He flashes a devilish grin.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll give you what you need.” He promises.

His fingers grip the waistband of my panties and he quickly pulls them off my body as well, leaving me completely bare in front of him. He stands over me, eyes roaming over my figure hungrily.

I move to cover myself, but Joel grabs my wrists and pins them above my head with one hand. His other hand slowly caresses my body while I whimper.

“Don’t you dare cover yourself, you’re too damn gorgeous for that.” He says as his hand moves lower.

He cups my mound and smiles when I buck my hips up for more. He carefully slips one of his fingers through my folds, watching my reaction as I squirm underneath him. I fight to keep my eyes on his face and spread my legs further for him.

His thumb reaches down to gently start making circles on my clit. I throw my head back, panting with my eyes squeezed shut. My back arches and Joel uses one of his hands to pin my hips down.

He slides further down the bed and slips two fingers inside me while his thumb continues to circle my clit. I moan quietly at the new feeling. His fingers are thick. It burns softly as my body stretches to welcome him further, but it’s not enough. I need all of him.

“C’mon baby. C’mon, give it to me.” He says, sending a shock through my whole body as his fingers start to thrust into me harder and faster.

I can feel my climax building. His fingers hurt a spot inside me that causes me to see stars. I bite my lip so hard that I can taste blood. The hands on my hip grips me tighter to keep my ass against the mattress. I climb higher and higher until I break.

I whimper Joel’s name as I come, his eyes never leaving my face while he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of my throbbing pussy. When my orgasm finishes he stops for a brief moment to wrap his arms around my thighs. He pulls his mouth to my core, his breath fanning over my sensitive pussy before he begins licking through my folds.

I thrash underneath him, still sensitive from my orgasm, while he holds me still with his hands on my thighs. He sucks on my clit and then releases it with a pop.

“Knew you’d taste so good,” he groans. He kisses my thigh and immediately goes back to my core.

He thrusts his tongue inside me, swirling his tongue around then going back to sucking on my clit. My fingers card into his hair. One of his hands lets go of my thigh to bring his fingers back to my pussy. I pull on his curls as he slides three fingers inside, immediately finding the spot that makes my toes curl.

He smiles and hums against my clit as my pussy clenches around his fingers. I can already feel my next orgasm building.

“Joel, fuck. Joel.” I chant his name as I feel the edge approach. He moves his fingers faster, his tongue moving in quick motions over my clit as well. When my second orgasm washes over me I rush to cover my mouth to muffle my screams.

He continues lapping my juices as I come down, twitching from the sensitivity. When he’s satisfied he moves back up the bed to my lips and kisses me again. His beard is slick with me and I can taste myself in his tongue.

“You ready for me baby?” He asks when he finally manages to pull his lips off mine. I nod, quickly grabbing a condom out of the nightstand drawer and handing it to him. I need him.

Joel tears the foil open and rolls the condom down his length. Then he reaches down and rubs his cock through my folds. I gasp, tilting my hips against him. He smiles as he rubs the tip against my clit. He notches himself at my entrance and I whimper.

“Please, Joel, I can't wait any longer. I need you, plea-“ he slowly begins to sink into me. “Joel!”

I moan loudly as his cock stretches me open. He moves a hand up to my mouth to stifle my moans, grunting himself as he bottoms out. He is so deep inside me. I’m not sure if I’ve been with anyone as big as Joel before. He pauses once his hips are flush with mine. He reaches down as kisses me as my pussy throbs around him, and then he slowly pulls out almost completely. The breath is forced out of my lungs when he slams back into me.

He sets a steady pace, his cock hitting my g-spot with each thrust. I can already feel the next orgasm building as I focus on his grunts. So good. So good.

Joel moves his thumb down to my clit again. He moves it in small circles as he thrusts into me. My nails rake down his back, sure to leave marks behind, but it just stirs him on.

“That’s it baby, fuck! You gonna come again? You gonna come on my cock?” He asks. I’m dangling over the edge again. I moan out as he thrusts harder.

“Yes Joel, fuck. You feel so good. So fucking good inside me. Fuck! I’m going to come. I’m going to come again.”

My pussy clenches and then I let go, Joel moving his head to bite into my shoulder to keep himself from shouting out while I clench around him. When my orgasm subsides Joel pulls all the way out and flips me around on the bed.

“Hands and knees sweetheart,” he directs. I do as he says, spreading my knees apart for him. He groans as he looks at my glistening folds and then quickly pushes himself back inside me. “Fuck, you’re so good baby. Feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock like that.”

He wraps my hair around his fist and pounds into me hard. Each thrust has his hips slamming into my ass. I’m starting to feel weak after my three orgasms, shaking slightly as my hands try to keep my upper body off the mattress.

A familiar tightening begins in my core. I didn’t know it was possible to orgasm this much in one night, but my next one starts building again. Joel is close too, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he moans more. He leans down to press his chest against my back while continuing his thrusts.

“One more sweet girl,” he whispers in my ear. “Been doing so good for me. Give me one more and then I’ll let go.”

I whimper as I get closer, my fists baking the sheets up tightly as he continues to slam his hips into me. He moves his chest off my back and pulls my hair again which immediately sends me over the edge. My arms collapse and I cry out as the pleasure takes over.

“Good girl, fuck, perfect. You’re perfect.” Joel grunts. He slams his hips into mine once, twice, and then he spills into the condom.

He groans as he lets go, one hand gripping my hips tightly while the other stays tangled in my hair. His body twitches against mine for a couple of minutes until he pulls out, tying the condom and throwing it away. I stay laying on the bed while he slips his boxers on and sneaks across the hall to the bathroom. When he comes back he has a warm washcloth. He gently cleans between my thighs and puts the cloth in the laundry bin before returning to bed.

I immediately wrap a leg around him and put my head on his chest while he lies down. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around me to pull me close.

“If you want to keep this secret I can’t stay all night,” Joel whispers into my hair.

“I know, just a little longer.” I respond. He kisses the top of my head and we rest, listening to the soft sounds of each other's breath until I hear Joel drift into sleep.

—

I watch the clock with bleary eyes as Joel’s chest rises and lowers under my head. He can’t stay all night, despite how much I want him to, so I stay awake.

I memorize the feeling of his hand on my hip, and the rush waving through my hair with each exhale. I draw patterns on his bare chest with my fingertips, lingering on the raised scar tissue in places. I trace the outlines of his sleeping face in my mind, so tranquil. His usual worry lines fade slightly. They’re still pressed into his skin, inevitably they’ll become wrinkles some day, but they’re faint now.

At 5:30 I wake him up. I say his name softly and press gentle kisses to his skin. He stirs slowly underneath me and blinks while he tries to assess his surroundings. His arms instinctively pull me closer to him, causing my body to melt into his.

“They’ll be up in a couple hours, you gotta go,” Joel groans. He buries his face in my hair. I find myself debating if it really would be that bad if they found out. For all we know Sarah and Ellie could love the idea, but now is probably not the time to test that theory.

He presses a kiss to my forehead before he pulls away and sits up. He stretches out his body, grunting at the effort. I slide off the bed and grab his flannel from the floor. Joel watches me put it on with a big smile on his face.

“What?” I ask, blushing. His eyes moved slowly from his oversized flannel hanging on my shoulders to my bare legs underneath.

“Nothin’” he responds, the twang in his voice more evident when combined with the deep tone of his morning voice. “You just look beautiful is all.”

He slips on his boxers and jeans then pulls his socks and shoes back on as well. Before he walks down the hallway I peek into Ellie’s room. Both her and Sarah are still fast asleep, their heads pressed together as they share Ellie’s bed.

Joel looks in on them over my shoulder and then I quietly close the bedroom door. I hold his hand as I sneak him across the hallway and down the stairs. I feel like a teenager again, sneaking my boyfriend down the stairs before my parents can notice.

He lingers at the front door, gripping my jaw and pulling me in for another kiss. His other hand grips my hip over the top of his flannel and pulls me close to him. I tangle my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

When we separate he kisses my forehead one more time and walks out the door. I stay on the doorstep and watch his truck pull away, Joel stopping to wave at me before he makes his way out of the neighborhood.

I try to get some sleep afterward, but I end up just tossing and turning in bed while smiling like an idiot. I look at the click on my nightstand and decide I probably still have a bit of time before Ellie wakes up. I take a deep breath of Joel’s scent in the flannel, taking it off to change into my painting clothes.

I check Ellie’s bedroom door one more time before I slip into our parents’ room. The floor crinkles when I step onto the paper I placed on the hardwood in order to protect it from any paint splatter. I pick up supplies and start a new canvas, absentmindedly stroking my brush across the empty space.

I mix different shades of pink, purple, and blue to create a sunrise, but each color also morphs into the shape of him. The dark brown mountain tops shift into the waves of his hair. The golden peach color of the sky adding highlights to his skin. I lose track of everything but the details of the paint until I hear the sound of a knock at the bedroom door. Shit.

I shift the painting out of view from the door and put my supplies back on the dresser. Ellie is standing at the door when I open it. She looks at me confused before she peers into the room behind me.

“I’m so sorry,” I say. I try to leave the room and close the door, but Ellie grabs it from me and opens it wider.

“What are you?” I stand aside so she can see I haven’t moved any of the furniture. She pinches her eyebrows together and looks at the canvases I have laying around the space.

“Nothing, I’ve just been getting back into painting again and I needed some space,” Ellie walks inside while I stand in the hallway. “I know I should’ve told you first. This was their room and it was off limits. If you’re not comfortable with it I can totally move my stuff out.”

Ellie makes her way around the room, looking at the different paintings I have leaning against the walls. It’s not a large collection, but I’ve managed to get a couple done over the last week. She stops in front of the first painting I completed.

It’s a meadow. Wildflowers bloom in the foreground while two girls play in the distance behind them with the evening sun setting under the mountains. Ellie leans in closer to see the faces of the girls, recognizing them as her and I.

“These are really good,” Ellie says with a smile on her face.

I look at the paintings as well. I don’t like to brag, but I truly do feel like this is some of the best work I’ve ever done. I can visibly see the emotion on every canvas. Each piece tells a story. I’ve painted great art before, but there’s a level of vulnerability to these pieces I’ve never attempted before.

“Thank you,” I respond.

I watch Ellie run her hand across the dresser next. She walks to mom’s closet and holds One of her shirts in her hands as it hangs off the hanger.

“She would’ve loved that you’re painting in here.” Ellie says with her back to me.

Ellie walks back to the painting of her and I. I move to be next to her, both of us focused on the painting. The version of us on the canvas are the girls who don’t yet know tragedy. They dance in a meadow of wildflowers with nothing holding them back. They are girls, they are sisters, they are free to live and love without limits.

“I think it’s okay. This space was meant to be lived in.” Ellie says. I bite my lip and nod. “They’re not coming back.”

Ellie turns to me, my eyes watering a bit as I fight tears. I can’t tell if it was a question, or a statement, but she doesn’t wait for my response.

“It’s time for us to move on I think.” She says. A couple of her own tears slip from her eyes. I reach over and wrap her in a hug. She squeezes me tight as she hugs me back.

“When did you get to be so smart?” I laugh, tears escaping my eyes as well. Ellie’s bedroom door opens and Sarah makes her way across the hall.

Ellie and I both let go, quickly drying our eyes before Sarah can notice. She looks at the art around the room as well.

“Wow, this is so cool! You painted all these?” Sarah asks.

She looks at the one I was just working on. I hold in my breath, hoping she doesn’t notice the similarity to her father. She doesn’t mention anything.

“Yeah, I’ve been getting back into it.” I respond. She moves over to the painting where Ellie and I stand.

“You’re really good.” I thank her. It’s actually kind of exciting to see their reactions to my paintings. It feels as though I’ve regained a piece of me.

The girls look at the different paintings, commenting on the colors I used and debating on what is happening in each one. They both ask me if I can show them how to paint which I happily agree to, it’ll be nice to share something with them the way our mom shared it with me.

When the girls are done assessing my work we go downstairs for breakfast. The girls hurry downstairs to start pulling out the ingredients for blueberry pancakes. I open the bedroom curtains before I go, letting the sunlight enter the room one more. When I leave the room, I keep the door open.

To read more visit a03.

[pprodsuga]

wrong number | sunghoon

thirteen: charlie, linus, and franklin

summary: when a barista of the cafe sunghoon frequents gives him her phone number, he decides to try his luck and texts her. problem is, it seems as though he’s got it all wrong and texts you instead.

notes: ayo written chapter <3 she’s a shortie but that’s okay! btw you will need to read this part first for this chapter to make sense.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

This particular weekend feels silent and tranquil amidst the chaotic week of responsibilities and obligations. Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki have promised to let you recharge over the course of the next two days before they bother you again, business as usual. You’ve spent the better part of your evening eating a home cooked meal and cleaning your skin until it’s fresh and moisturized. Today feels like a well-deserved Friday and you don’t imagine it can get any better than this. 

It's relatively quiet tonight, the soft sound of wind rustling through the trees being the only thing keeping you company at such a late hour. In addition, the moon is full and bright, reflecting off of the window pane and it leaves a small sliver of light amongst the darkness of your room. You reckon the stars are shining extra bright tonight.

Sunghoon’s been a fixture in your life for a short while but it feels like you’ve met your twin flame. A fire erupts within your chest when you see his contact name on your display screen. Your cheeks flush and you feel the childish need to prevent anyone from seeing the message no matter how mundane or boring it may be. Still, you revel in the feeling of first crushes and the cliche kind of romance you only see in movies. 

Another text from Sunghoon comes through.

sunghoon <3: don’t sleep on me, pretty girl

sunghoon <3: can i call you?

You throw your phone until it lands with a soft thud on top of your mattress.

It might be embarrassing, the way you gasp at his question. Sending voice notes back and forth is one thing. Neither of you are obligated to be available at the same time and there aren’t awkward pauses like two people trying to think of what to say next. Voice notes are mini conversations where it’s acceptable to jump from topic to topic, straying so far from the original point that you rarely find your way back. Phone calls are new, uncharted territory. 

You briefly think about whether or not you should freshen up until you realize it wouldn’t involve your video camera. Sunghoon knows you're tucked in bed with the blankets by your chin, so he must understand you’re in a dark room and presumably in pajamas (you are).

After deliberating for three and a half minutes on Twitter, you respond. 

you: i would love that 

Your fingers burn as you press send. It feels like a risky text, one that you immediately regret sending. What if Sunghoon doesn’t find you interesting since your conversation isn’t over messages? What if he doesn't like your voice? What if you say something wrong and he decides to never text you again? 

“I, um,” you stutter, not used to the feeling of flirting over the phone. Or, at least you think Sunghoon’s flirting. He wouldn’t say your voice was cute if he meant that to be friendly, right? “W-Wow it’s so different hearing your voice on a phone call.” 

You wear, you ascend when he laughs again. 

“You’re funny, you know that?” You try to think of a response but he beats you to it. “Are you really tucked underneath your blankets?” 

“I would not lie about sleeping underneath very comfortable sheets.” You ruffle the comforter for good measure. “See? Definitely not lying.” 

“I’m trying to imagine your room. I’m thinking of pink sheets and pillows.”

“Wrong,” you chuckle. “Lavender.” 

“Purple, I see.” Sunghoon says this like he’s pretending to contemplate. “Can you guess what mine are?”

“I dunno, something super stereotypical for a guy. Like navy blue.”

He goes quiet. “Wow, I’m actually surprised that you got it right.” 

“There’s something about men and their bond to navy blue bedding, Hoonie. What can I say?” 

That boyish laugh of his will be the death of you. “I guess you’re right. Now that I think about it, there’s only one person in my apartment who doesn’t have navy sheets.” 

“Unlike you, they’re original.” You hope the joke lands through your voice but a small part in the back of your brain tells you that you might’ve gone too far.

“I guess all men really are the same,” he sighs dramatically. 

“Do you think it’s a little weird that we’ve been talking for a month and we’ve never met before?” you ask.

“Honestly? Not really. It was at first, considering you’re not the person who originally gave me their phone number.”

You nod despite the fact that he can’t see you do it. “It’s weird that the barista would give you a fake number even though she wanted to give it to you.” 

Perhaps it’s your affinity to believe the good in people or your own naivety, but you’d love to believe that meeting Sunghoon the way you did was pure fate. Your friends know you question where you stand in life and if you’ll ever experience those wondrous ‘firsts’ when it comes to dating and relationships, since it seems as if the people in your life have been. While you’re happy for them, it makes conversations awkward when you have nothing to contribute. 

“I’m glad I ended up texting you, if I’m being honest,” he admits from the other side of the phone. “I don’t…date, really. I’m not the type of person to hook up with random girls all the time either, or anything. But after what my ex did, it left a weird taste in my mouth.

“I can understand that. Even though that happened years ago, it’s still a traumatic thing to experience.”

“My roommates tell me that all the time. It’s just hard, you know? I felt weird telling you about it considering one shouldn’t talk about their exes to people they’re talking to.”

Sunghoon confirming the fact that you two are indeed in the talking stage makes your heart flutter. 

“I understand that too,” you agree. “But it’s important to know, I think. As long as you’re willing to share? I mean, asking people what their favorite color is or their go-to ramen order is so overrated. I want to know the nitty gritty.”

“Including the fact that I have navy blue bedding?” he jokes. 

“Exactly that,” you joke back. “I don’t have many stories to tell. No evil exes to fight on this end.” 

“Well there’s one evil ex and one short-lived relationship, but I hardly think a middle school romance counts for anything.” 

“No, I don’t think it does.”

With the initial awkwardness of a first phone call out of the way, the conversation between you and Sunghoon flows like a natural waterstream. It seems as though every topic is on the table, as you both start discussing your everyday habits to what your respective families are like back at home. You tell him about your parents and he tells you about his sister. Sunghoon opens up about living with four other guys and you’re sure he can hear your shock when he tells you the things he puts up with. It’s moments like this where you’re grateful to live alone, even if three of your closest friends stop by more often than not. 

Talking to Sunghoon makes you feel like you’re completely and utterly seen. You understand, now, why people talk about the difference between being acknowledged by your friends and having someone see you for who you are as they get to know you. Sunghoon doesn’t have any precursor as to who you are because the person he’s getting to know is the person you present to him without any past judgment or assumptions. It feels nice.

“You hang out with some of the same people every week, right?” Sunghoon asks. It warms your heart to know he pays attention. “The ones who like shrimp chips.”

“That’s Charlie,” you lie. Jungwon’s advice of omitting your names in favor of replacing them with the characters in the Peanuts comics asserts itself and the name ‘Charlie’ comes out faster than you intended. “Yeah, he loves those. I buy extra for him because he keeps finishing mine.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.” 

“Well, he pays for other things for me too sometimes. I see it as a bargain.”

“And your other friends?” 

The guilt inside of you has dropped to your stomach. 

“There’s Franklin. He’s a sweetheart, really. Very sassy too but I think he only gets like that when you get to know him. When we first met, he was so quiet and I thought he didn’t like me at first.” 

“Can’t imagine someone not liking you.” 

You’re quiet for a moment. “Now you’re just making me blush.” 

“I’d like to see how many times I can do that on this phone call.” You pay no mind to the phone and shove your face into your pillows to let out a short-lived squeal, hoping that the sound muffles your noise. Did you put your phone on mute? 

You can hear Sunghoon chuckling as you pick your phone back up. “What about your other friend?” 

“Oh, that’s Linus.” The lie comes out easier and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s just complimented you or if it’s because you’ve been lying this entire time. “He’s a real sweetheart. He comes off as very boyish, you know? Hard and strong, that kind of thing. I’ve known him since we were kids and he’s my longest friend. He’s the type of person I can really depend on and someone I trust with my whole heart, even if he is a little shit sometimes.” 

“I can relate. One of my best friends, Jake, who also happens to be my roommate, is like that too. He definitely looks like the kind of guy who sleeps around. You know the type; cocky smile who looks like he works out a ton. But he’s a real sweetheart and can crack a joke like it’s nothing. Girls always assume he’s got so many people under his belt but the poor guy is a hopeless romantic.” 

“That’s so sweet,” you say with a frown. “I hope he’s able to find someone really soon.”

“You and I both,” Sunghoon sighs. “I cannot handle his dumbass comments about us every time I tell him about you.”

“Let him be,” you chide. “If he wants to say we’re fated, let him.” 

Sunghoon is silent on the other line. 

“You’re so,” Sunghoon begins to say before cutting himself off to chuckle. “You’re just so bold. I have never met anyone so straightforward before. You’re flirting with me and aren’t shy to do it.” 

“Me?” you feign innocence, a giggle threatening to spill from your lips. “Flirting? I don’t flirt. I don’t know how to flirt. Maybe you should teach me some time.” 

You swear that you can hear a small grunt from the other end of the line and mentally pat yourself on the back for your ingenious thinking.  

“Enough,” says Sunghoon. “You’re trouble.” 

“Don’t you have any guilty pleasures?”

On the opposite end of the phone line, that one question alone makes Sunghoon bite his lip and shut his eyes. He’s glad you aren’t there to witness him do it. 

“Cute isn’t the word I’d use for you right now,” he finally says. 

The rest of the night is spent on the phone with Sunghoon, so much so that you forget about your white lie and the guilt that sits in the back of your mind. It feels too good to be seen by somebody who doesn’t hold any expectations over your head. You’re just you, the person who hides her romantic tendencies by cracking jokes about how love isn’t all it’s supposed to be. But Sunghoon allows you to tear that down and discover what having a crush might just feel like.

Instead, you fall asleep on the phone and are pleasantly surprised to wake up and find that he didn’t end the phone call while you were sleeping. 

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hello

Can I ask you to write a fanfic about Mikey (tmnt2012) in which he has Shellacne?how he would behave around reader

THank you

Shellacne (Fluff)

2012!Michelangelo x reader

A/N: Yes you can🧡 I’ve decided to keep it light, focusing on the short time before they learned Mikey sprinkled himself with mutagen because, well… the big shell zits makes me uncomfortable😅 But we can still have some fun! Hope you enjoy!🧡

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

Mikey’s shellacne got him hiding in his room, so his brothers asks you to help them get him out.

Warnings: Spelling and a little shellacne.

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

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you”, Leo said in a sigh as you entered the lair, looking relieved just by being in your presents. During all the time you had known the turtles, it wasn’t uncommon to see Mikey’s oldest brother in a tired state. And after you started dating Mikey a few months ago, the sight became more and more common. “He has been in there all day and he won’t come out”.

“I came here as fast as I could when I saw your text”, you said, following him through the lair. “But I have to ask, what is shellacne?”, you asked, referencing the text Leo had sent you, rambling on about how Mikey had gotten this shellacne, whatever the hell that was.

“We’re still trying to figure that out”, Leo said, sounding a little unsure. He led the way to Mikey’s bedroom door, where you found Donnie and Raph waiting, both looking tired and frustrated, only to lighten up a little when they saw you walk in.

“Come on, Mikey!”, Donnie said, knocking on the door. “Raph has promised not to call anymore names!”

“You said the same thing last time, before he called me a pickle!”, Mikey yelled from the other side of the door.

“Hey, you have to admit, it was funny”, Raph said, causing his brothers to look at him in anger and frustration. “Or maybe not”.

“Mikey”, you said, knocking on the door. “What’s wrong?”

You heard an audible gasp from the inside of his room, followed by the sound of things crashing to the ground and Mikey yelping.

“(Y/N)!?”, he asked in panic, keeping the door firmly shut as he ran up to it. “What are you doing here?!”

“Your brothers texted me”.

Mikey gasped once more. “I can’t trust you guys at all, can I?!”, he yelled, directing his anger towards his brothers.

“Well, you can’t trust Raph”, Donnie said, feeling his hot tempered brother sending him foul looks.

“Mikey, sweetheart, please let me in”, you said softly, knowing that it usually helped in calming him down. But to your surprise it didn’t calm him down this time. Instead he continued to panic.

“No!”, he yelled. “You can’t see me! Not like this! I look like a monster! A gross, terrifying monster!”

“It’s really not that bad, Mikey”, Leo said.

“That may be easy for you to say!”, Mikey’s voice sounded. “But it isn’t your face that’s covered in zits!”

“Oh, is that what it’s about?”, you said, sounding more surprised than you meant to. “Acne?”

“Well, to be fair, it isn’t just acne. It’s shellacne”, Raph said, stretching his arms as if nothing was bothering him.

“You really aren’t helping”, you told him before turning back towards the door. “Mikey honey, it’s okay. Humans get acne too”.

“Yeah but humans don't look as horrifying with acne!”, Mikey exclaimed.

“I would disagree”, Donnie said deep in thought, making you question when he would have seen an acne prone human.

You sighed. “Mikey, will you let me in if the others left?”

It was quiet for a moment. You could hear Mikey shuffle around uncomfortably on the outside of the door, as he thought about your offer. As much as he feared how you would react to his pimple covered face, he also really wanted your comfort during that moment.

“Okay, but only if the others promise to leave first!”

And so they did. Although reluctantly, Raph, Leo and Donnie promised to leave and then they did, going to the main area to watch TV and read comic books. Once they were gone, you let Mikey know that the coast was clear, before he slowly cracked the door open for you to slip through. Mikey was timid to say the least, when you made your way into his room, fearing your reaction once you saw his face. And to be honest, you had expected worse. The top of Mikey’s head was covered in small pimple-like bumps. You could see how Raph would compare it to the skin of a pickle, as evil as that sounded.

Mikey looked away, expecting you to cry or scream, keeping his distance. But to his surprise, you closed the distance between you, placing your hands on his cheeks to make him look at you.

“You calling this looking like a monster?”, you asked him with a calm smile. Mikey had not expected you to smile at him, nor be this calm, and therefore your actions made his knees weak. Not that it was anything knew. You often had that effect on him.

“I look like a walking pus!”, Mikey cried out, like a toddler that just wanted to be comforted.

“Mikey, honey, it’s not that bad”, you smiled, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You look like a normal mutant turtle with shellacne”.

“You say it like you have seen a lot of mutant turtles with shellacne”, Mikey mumbled, crossing his arms.

You laughed, finding his grumpy face adorable. You couldn’t help it. I was just that adorable, even with his head covered like that. “Mikey, that is not what I meant”, you said, removing one of your hands from his face to take his hand. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you look like a monster”.

Mikey’s big eyes scanned your face, looking for any hint that showed him you didn’t mean it. But you did. Your sweet smile and sincere eyes told him you spoke the truth. You would never lie, especially not to Mikey.

“Really?”, he asked, still feeling the insecurity in his guts.

“Really”, you answered him, placing your arms around his neck so you could pull him down to place a kiss on his beak. Mikey became a blushing mess by this action, melting into your arms, his head falling against your shoulder as he held you close in a hug.

“You’re really sweet, you know that?”, Mikey muttered against your shoulder, his blush still strong on his cheeks.

“You’ve told me a few times”, you chuckled, giving his shoulder a small squish. “Now come. Let’s see if Donnie has a way to get rid of those”, you said, nodding towards his pimples.

“But”, Mikey started pulling you close to him again. “What if they call me names again?”

“Then I will personally give them a beating worse than any training session they’ve ever had”, you said, causing Mikey to crack a smile. You took his hand in yours once again, giving it a small reassuring squish. “Now, let’s go”.

“Okay”, Mikey smiled, letting you lead him out of his room and into the main area. With your hand in his, shellacne suddenly didn’t seem as bad anymore.

[permanentmess]

confession (peter maximoff x fem!reader)

a/n: i really wanted to make a part two to this blurb/oneshot where they finally confess to each other, but then work, travel, and entering senior year of college got in the way. sorry about the delay!

this can easily be read as a stand alone + as gender neutral (i think)

word count: 645

warnings: light cussing, fluff, mentions of injuries. meant to just be short and sweet! sort of proofread

GIF NOT MINE

~~~

Despite your intense schedule last week, this week was actually quite lax. Other than the occasional training session or small homework assignment that needed to be graded, you actually were able to relax in your spare time. 

But, you hadn’t seen Peter much. He was sent on multiple missions in a row and you wished he was around. You wanted nothing more than for him to come bother you every spare moment he had, and the ache set itself in your chest the longer you thought of him. 

Shaking your head, you walk to your closet for a pair of pajamas. You grab the most recent book you had picked up from the store and rested against your pillows. The ache subsided, but didn’t leave entirely. 

You’ve been staring at the same page as you have the past five minutes when you get a knock at your door. You furrow your eyebrows, but set a bookmark in your book and open the door. Peter is standing in front of you, X-Men suit still on and hair disheveled. 

“Peter, what are you doing here? I thought you came back tomorrow,” you lean forward to give him a hug but hesitate, because you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. He did just get back from a mission, presumably, and he sometimes got overstimulated from them. 

He almost knocks you back with the force he uses to wrap you in his arms. You wrap your arms around him just as tightly and walk you both back into your room, shutting the door with a quick push of your hand. He buries his face in your neck, mumbling something you can’t quite make out. Your stomach tenses, but you push it down. 

“What?”

“Finished early, and I got hurt and something happened so Charles had me come back.” You try to pull back but he tightens his hold, if that was even possible. 

“You got hurt?”

He nods against you. “‘S nothing. Just some cuts, maybe a broken ankle, it doesn’t matter. I had to pretend I wasn’t a mutant to protect myself so I couldn’t use my powers. Good news is, I got the blueprints.” 

“Peter, what the fuck, sit down.” He won’t let go of you, but you manage to gently push him onto the edge of your bed, wanting to take the weight off of his feet. 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll heal pretty fast,” he says, but even to his own ears he sounds unconvinced. 

“Look at me.” He doesn’t want to leave the comfort of your warmth, but he obliges. He sees tears pooling in your eyes and feels guilty. 

“I promise it’s not that bad. I’ll get help after this, I just had to see you.” 

You continued to look at him, finally analyzing the injuries that you could see, since his body was covered. It looks like he has a black eye forming. His lip is cut open and you reach a finger up to brush the space around the injury. He reaches his hand up to hold yours to his face, so you gently run your thumb along his cheek. Peter winces slightly at the contact with another cut, right where he had placed your hand, but he craves your touch too much to focus on it. 

You’re not sure who leans forward, you’re pretty sure it’s him, but he encapsulates your lips in a gentle kiss. His lips are cracked but you don’t mind, softly running your thumb along a non-hurt part of skin. He takes this as a sign to deepen the kiss, but he quickly runs out of air and pulls back, resting his forehead on yours as he pulls your hand away from his face, holding it instead. 

“I think I may have broken some ribs,” he winces. 

“Peter!”

He grins and goes in to kiss you again.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Jilted" - part 2

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Tags: boyfriend's dad au, left at the altar, father-in-law, hurt/comfort, forbidden attraction, silver fox Steve, age gap, size kink, strength kink, Dom/sub elements, daddy kink, fingering, oral sex, grinding, sex, dirty talk, cheating

Summary: You may be a jilted bride, but you don't feel like one for long when Steve soothes the hurt in unexpected ways.

Part 2 - "Taken to Bed by a Man" (Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

Only hours ago, you were walking to the altar to marry a boy, and now you’re being taken to bed by a man—that very boy’s father. The reality of it becomes very clear as Steve walks into his bedroom with you in his arms and sets you down. Your toes dig into the room’s soft carpet.

“Turn around,” he whispers.

You obey, shivering as he steps in close behind. You can hear his breathing, can practically feel his desire for you. Somehow, he seems more tangible than he ever has before. More real, more solid, and you’re painfully aware of how close he is. “S-steve,” you breathe. “I—”

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, cutting you off. “I’m sorry I never told you. A woman like you should hear it every day.”

You want to say something, tell him that this is wrong, you can’t do this. He’s … he’s Pat’s father, decades older than you. He’s Captain America, for Christssakes. You shouldn’t want him the way you do. And now he’s got you doubting everything, every interaction you’ve ever had with him, every lingering glance, every brief touch, every polite word. From that very first time Pat brought you home to meet his father, the famed “man out of time.”

Steve doesn’t age normally, that much is obvious. You know about the serum, know that he was in his late twenties when they defrosted him back in the ‘nineties. And thirty years later, he doesn’t look as old as he should. His body and face are still those of a forty year old, betrayed only by the edges of his eyes, by the grey creeping into his hair and beard. He’s a total daddy, a thought that you’ve been shamefully repressing for the past two years. You’ve been so embarrassed by it, thought you were being such a creep, thinking about Pat’s father that way. Has Steve really been looking at you too all this time? You open your mouth to say something, offer some protest or reason why you can’t—

“Ask me to take your dress off.”

Your whole body clenches at how deep his voice is, how close he’s speaking to your ear. You tremble, able to feel the heat of his body behind you. “Steve, I …”

“Ask me,” he whispers, fingers skimming over your neck and shoulders. “Come on, Honey. Ask me. I promise I’ll only make you do it once.”

God. You manage to choke out an overwhelmed, “Please,” and thankfully it seems to be enough for him. His fingers find the laces of your dress and begin to delicately undo them. He goes slowly, almost like he’s relishing the act of removing your wedding gown. He peels off the dress that his son was meant to remove from your body that night, the fabric falling to the floor in a quiet ‘whoosh’, and his hands landing on your waist.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, sounding amazed. You whimper and try to move away, skittish, but he stops you, pulling you back firmly against his body with a tut. “You’re okay,” he soothes, arms wrapping around you to hold you close and calm you down. “Shhh. I got you.”

“S-steve,” you breathe, overwhelmed by how wrong this is, how turned on you are when he touches you. “We can’t, I shouldn’t.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” his hot breath fans out against your ear, then he starts kissing your neck and his hands slide covetously over your body. “Wanted you for so long, Sweetheart. Wanted to give you what you were aching for.” You whimper and try to pull away, but his hand slides over your tummy and pulls you back. “It’s okay. I’ve known. You think I didn’t know? Think I didn’t see you looking at me?”

“I – I didn’t …”

“Shh. There’s a girl. Let me touch you.” He’s so effortlessly strong and it feels so good to be held still by him. He rubs your belly and his other hand slides up your ribcage. “So beautiful.” He cups your breast, fingers dipping under the cup of your bra. “God, Honey. Look at you.”

You look down and exhale shakily, your cunt pulsing at the sight of his huge hand against your skin and the delicate lace of your bridal underwear. “Steve,” you breathe, shaking from nerves and arousal. “I want …”

“What do you want?” he whispers, lips trailing over your neck. He places a kiss on your pulse point, feels how fast your heart is beating. “Want me to take control?” he offers softly, almost kindly, like he can sense how overwhelmed you are. “I can do that, Sweetheart. Make it easy for you, make all the decisions. Is that what you want, hm? Want me to lay you out on this bed and do all the work?”

It’s pathetic, how fast you whine and nod, wanting that so badly. “Yes,” you say, grabbing at his hands where they’re feeling you up. “Please, Steve. Yes.”

He chuckles, low and with just a touch of condescension, the sound going straight to your core. You squeeze your thighs together to try and get some relief, but it doesn’t do any good. “Come on, then,” Steve says, moving you with capable hands. He guides you over and pushes on your shoulders until he’s got you sitting on the edge of the bed. You’re left staring at him, standing there in front of you in his tux, looking obscenely handsome, confident, and—oh …

His cock isn’t even fully hard yet, and it’s still a healthy bulge at the front of his slacks. You feel your cheeks heat as you can’t help but stare at it. It is right there, after all. You flush all the harder when he notices you looking and chuckles at you. One of those enormous hands brushes up against the front of his pants, and you nearly moan at the sight of him touching himself.

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart,” he purrs. “You’ll get it. But first …” he sinks down to kneel in front of you, reaching for the straps of your bra. You tense when he starts to pull them off your shoulders, moving to reach behind yourself and unhook the bra, but he hushes you and stills your hands. “Shh, no. Let me do it, Honey. I want to do it.” He gets your bra off and tosses it aside, groaning as he kneels in front of you and looks his fill. “God, you got no idea,” he murmurs, sounding distracted by what he’s seeing. “No idea how long I’ve been wanting this.” His hands make an abortive move, as if he doesn’t know where or how to touch you first. “Shit, lookit you.”

“How long?” you ask on impulse, surprising even yourself. His eyes shoot up to your face, and you swallow heavily under his stare. “H-how long, have you wanted to?” you breathe.

He smiles, then his eyes trail back down and he sighs happily. He reaches out and just sort of … pets the tips of your breasts, brow pinching with want as he watches your nipples harden into firm peaks. “Jesus.” He shakes his head, like he can’t believe he’s getting to touch you. “Oh, Doll ... Since I met you.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he says distractedly, big hands cupping your tits, making them look small and delicate against his rough palms. You’ve never noticed how masculine his hands are …

“S-since—”

“Since the first time you came in my house looking like you do, yes,” he growls, giving your breasts a squeeze. “Shit.”

His soft cursing makes you flush, feeling warm and exposed and needy and seen. “Steve,” you say, voice warbling with audible worry. You wait until his blue eyes come up to meet yours—God, are his eyes ever blue. You swallow heavily.

“What is it, Sweetheart?”

You chew your lip. “If we do this …” you fret, thinking about the wedding, about Patrick, about how fucked up this is going to make your life.

Steve’s hands smooth over your thighs. “Do you really want him back?” he asks you—knowingly. He meets your gaze without doubt, shaking his head the barest bit. “No going back,” he murmurs. You whimper, and he hushes you. “I know, Honey, I know it’s scary. But you can trust me.”

Delicately, he reaches for the clips of your garters and begins undoing them, one at a time. You’re stuck watching, helpless, as he looks you in the eye and gently eases your stockings down your legs. They’re the real deal: silk, seamed, non-elastic, and a strange feeling rolls through you as you watch Steve’s fingers move over them deftly and you realize that he likely knows what he’s doing because these were the sort that girls wore back in his day.

“Don’t worry, Angel.” He kisses the inside of a knee. “This isn’t just for tonight. I have every intention of keeping you.” His eyes flash upwards again, and you feel heat course through you at his face being right there between your legs … And at his words. He sees your face pinch with doubt and he nods. “Yeah. I told you you’re mine, now. I don’t say things like that unless I mean ‘em.”

“But …” you falter, not sure what you’re even planning to say. But I’m supposed to be engaged to your son. But I’m supposed to be married to him. But people will know, people will—

He slides his hands over your hips and starts edging your panties down, maintaining that all-consuming eye contact as he does it. “But what?” he purrs. “You worried about what people will say?”

You shake your head in denial, but the truth is that you are. Buzzfeed and CNN had been at that cathedral, goddamnit, and there’ll be articles tomorrow about what happened. What on earth will the headlines say when word gets out that you’ve traded in Captain America’s son for the Captain himself?

“You worry too much,” Steve says, easing your panties down your legs and guiding you to let them slip from your feet. He lifts your calf and kisses the inside of your ankle, smirking. “I’m Captain America, Everybody loves me. And I’m allowed to have nice things.” His gaze slides down to the vee of your legs, and you watch as his eyes rapidly darken to something greedy and ravenous. He makes a gruff sound in his throat, utterly possessive, and the next thing you know he’s shoving your knees further apart and forcing his way in, arms hooking underneath your thighs and wrapping around to hold onto you.

You squeak as his broad shoulders push your legs apart and you tip backwards. You catch yourself on your hands and prop yourself back up in time to watch the inaugural press of his mouth against your sex. And oh, it feels almost as good as it looks. You inhale sharply and your hips jump up of their own volition. He’s only pressed a chaste kiss against you, right up high on your mound, but the sight of Steve Rogers’ face between your legs, his head of silver-blond hair and his dark lashes resting against his cheeks as he noses against your most intimate place … it’s enough to have you clenching hard on nothing, slicking up so much that you can feel it getting messy and wet.

You whimper in arousal and impulsively reach with one of your hands to try and hold his head. “Jesus, Steve,” you whisper, turned on beyond belief. It only gets worse when he looks up at you again. You exhale shakily, belly heaving at the way his eyes scald you in their intensity.

“Tell me,” he rasps. “Tell me what you want me to do with my mouth.”

Jesus fucking Christ, that’s not fair. You whine and pant down at him. “Nnn, Steve …” You can’t. You can’t.

“Come on, Sweetheart,” he coaxes, voice like sin. “I know what I promised. And I meant it. I’ll take control. I’ll make it easy for you, and so goddamn good you won’t remember your name.” He turns his face and kisses the crease of your thigh, so close to where you want it. “But I want to hear you say it, first. Please. Just do that for me, Babydoll, and then I’ll make you feel so good.”

You swallow thickly, turned on beyond belief and knowing that if you want him, you’re going to have to put your big girl panties on and do this one thing for him. So, despite the fact that most of your brain cells have liquified and run out through your ears at this point—and despite the fact that you are not one for dirty talking in the bedroom—you look him right in the eyes and croak out a breathless, “Kiss my pussy, Steve. Put your mouth on me and lick it, suck—ogn …” You cut off in a moan when he seals his mouth right over your clit and sucks hard. “Oh my god.”

“Mmhm,” he groans. He sucks your folds into his mouth and flattens his tongue, rubbing it firmly against your clit and working methodically at it until it’s puffy and swollen. “Mmm. Mmph.” His sounds of enjoyment only make it filthier, and you can’t hold back your own choked off little moans and gasps at the eager way his arms grab onto you and haul you in for more, the way he purposefully grinds his face against you and uses his nose to give you more pressure from above your clit.

You wind up sobbing and tossing your head back as you feel yourself gush, and for a long moment you don’t even realize how much you're humping his face, rubbing yourself off against him, trying to get more of that sucking mouth and that lashing, sinful tongue. “Oh, shit. Holy shit …”

You should be mortified by your own desperation, by the sounds you’re making. Maybe you would be, but for the way that Steve responds to it. He growls and jerks you in harder against him, grinding his face into your cunt, sucking and slurping and then hurriedly freeing up one hand to push his fingers into you.

You cry out sharply as he tries to start with two but quickly halts when he can tell that it’s too much. He softens and slows down, kissing your clit in gentle apology, slipping one finger inside your drenched pussy instead. “There we go,” he hums in response to the pleasured sigh you give and looks up at you while he works his finger gently. “That feel good, Sugar?”

You’re gonna die from the fucking pet names, and that is perfectly okay. You nod dumbly down at him, eyes glued to his gaze once again as he fingers you. “Y-yeah,” you say shakily. “Steve …”

He kisses the hood of your clit and drags his lips over it. “Has it been awhile?” he asks, with all the tender concern of a lover who wants to please.

It makes your belly swirl just as hard as his mouth on you had, and you whimper and nod, working your hips down a little against his finger. “I h-haven’t,” you stutter, “Nn … not, oh, not in a while.” You don’t elaborate, and you sure as shit aren't going to admit it now, but the truth is you’ve been avoiding sex with Patrick the closer the big day got; telling yourself that it was to make the wedding night more special, when in reality you suspect it was something else entirely. You whimper and shake your head shyly, and Steve seems to understand that you don’t want to talk about it.

“Shh,” he soothes, kissing your thigh again as he keeps working his hand against you so gently. “That’s okay. We’ll take it slow. We’re not in any rush, ain’t that right?”

You can only whimper and nod, and he coos and smiles at you and how you’ve gone nonverbal already. “Yeah,” he purrs, smiling. “Don’t even worry about it, Babygirl. Daddy’s gonna treat this pussy right. Gonna make you feel so nice, get you real good and relaxed, teach you things you didn’t even know you could do.”

You cry out at how excruciatingly intimate those words are, at the way he kisses your hyper-sensitized clit and changes the angle of his hand, finger dragging up against your walls slower and more purposefully and firm. Your eyes clamp shut and you toss your head back with a pitiful keen. “St-eve, oh, please, please …”

“Mmhm.” He keeps going, still gentle but picking up on what you like, figuring out what makes you get louder and squirm harder. He fucks you on his hand and nurses at your clit in a constant, pulsing rhythm—steady, steady—reading your body’s cues and committing himself to the task, breaking away every once and awhile just to murmur little things against your cunt:

“That’s it, Sweetheart, just like that. Such a good girl. Keep going baby, yes. Let it come, let it happen for me.”

When you get close he stops talking, sealing his mouth to your pleasure and humming his praise straight into your skin instead. And it’s so good, building and building, and he’s doing it just right, holy fuck …

You fall to your back on the bed, Steve following right after you as it makes your pelvis tilt up, never breaking contact, never faltering as your hands scrabble and claw at his hair and your cries get louder and sharper. He holds you down as you start to thrash, desperate for the edge you can feel so close, so close …

Your legs wind up around his head and your heels dig wildly into his back, and still he doesn’t falter, grunting and slurping against you, giving you what you need so good that you sob.

“Oh please, please, Steve! I’m gonna cum, I’m–I’m gonna … ohhh …”

He groans right along with you as it happens, keeping that same exquisite pressure and pace in such an ungodly competent way that you just about scream from how grateful you are. He’s perfect. You sob as the pleasure crests and wanes so sharply, leaving you trembling and gasping breathless little “thank you’s” at him over and over again as he eases off and climbs up your body.

“Shh, sh sh. There we go. Aww, I know, Angel, I know. It’s okay. Did that just feel so good?”

He coos a rhetorical litany of gentle praise at you as he climbs up and rearranges your body fully on the bed, telling you how beautiful you are, how good, how much he wants you. His hands are everywhere, attentive and comforting, petting your legs and smoothing over your belly and chest as he gazes down at you adoringly. It’s romantic, intimate, and like nothing you ever had with Patrick.

You sigh happily and whisper Steve’s name instead, which only seems to please him more. He sidles up alongside you and slots one thick thigh between your legs. That’s when you realize that he’s still completely clothed and you make a tiny noise of protest. Though there is something deliciously dirty about him clothed and you bare, the fabric of his tux over the firm muscle of his thigh pressing up against your soaked core, you still want to feel him. “Steve,” you breathe, pulling at his shirt impatiently. “You too, please.”

He chuckles and nods, hushing your protests as he continues to luxuriate in smoothing his hands over your body. “Hang on, Sweetheart. I will, I will. Let me do this. I’ve always wanted to. Always. Don’t make me rush.”

“Steve,” you sigh.

“Shhh. Good girl. Just let me have this first.” He continues on, heedless of his own body and fully intent on yours, keeping you on that cloud of hazy, post-orgasmic pleasure.

It’s as he’s hovering over you like that, pressing you into the sheets and kissing tender affection all over your face—worshiping you, for lack of a better word—that you realize:

He’s treating you like a groom treats his bride.

Epilogue imagine/outline

Masterlist

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[judethejudas]

MW2 König x Male! Stripper! Reader Smut

König steps out of his comfort zone to meet an old friend at a club. But what happens when he decides to make a new friend there? In ways he couldn’t imagine.

(S/N) = stripper name

(F/C) = favorite color

WARNING: highly sexual themes, swearing, size difference, cis male reader described.

MINORS AND FEM ALIGNED DNI

Dear god. Did he really have to do this?

König stood completely still as he stared up at the red neon sign above him, which read ‘Dante’s Inferno’.

A strip club. A rather diverse one to be exact since the strippers consisted of both women and men.

“Schieße.. I can’t go in there..” The Austrian was too shy to push himself to go in. He’s never been in such a place but his childhood friend, his only friend, had invited him to catch up on old times since it’s been so long.

But.. there were naked men and women in there. He wouldn’t be able to get a single word out if he went in! Oh how his anxiety crippled him.

He couldn’t disappoint his friend though. Not when he was the only one he felt safe with during his childhood. The least he could do was just go in and talk over a drink, right?

König took a deep breath, and vanquished his fear for a moment to walk inside the club.

After paying the fee, he was fully allowed inside and he was able to see just what he was getting himself into.

Women and men, scantily dressed, walked with such a sway of their bodies it was crumbling the beast of a man.

He hated being so tall sometimes. It meant he was always the centre of attraction, even in a place like this.

Both patrons and the strippers would look over at the hulking mass at the doorway, shocked at how tall he was.

König sheepishly walked at a brisk pace to the table where his friend was seated, ignoring the stares of everybody as he passed by.

“My friend! It is so good to see you again, so good!” His friend stepped out of the booth to give him a hug and König let out a quick sigh of relief. He was so happy he wasn’t alone.

“Very good to see you too.” He mumbled out as they both took their seats. The two chatted about their lives, their childhoods together, what they were doing now and whatnot.

König refused to look at any stripper that walked by them or was performing on that stage.

“Still as shy as ever, yeah?” His friend chuckled, giving him a pat on his back.

König chuckled too, just more quietly and almost sounding embarrassed. Oh, he was embarrassed. The pink tint on his cheeks and ears proved it.

“I don’t get out much, more of a workaholic if anything.”

“Oh? Then we need to change that..”

The Austrian man did not like the way he said that.

He felt his heart racing as his friend motioned for one of the strippers to come over.

Oh no.

“I-I, now there’s no need please, I’m fine right here..!”

“Nonsense! This’ll be good for you, I promise!”

A man was coming over, dressed in (f/c) short briefs and adorned with jewelry and harnesses on his legs.

König avoided eye contact when you took a seat next to him.

“Can I help you, boys?” You sat so close to the poor man his thigh was trembling a bit. He could feel your arm and your leg pressed up to his own. This was quite a lot of physical contact for a man like himself.

“Yes. My friend König here would love your services, perhaps in the VIP room?”

“Of course. Come along, darling. I’ll show you the way..” You smiled and took his hand in your own, leaving the booth and heading to the back rooms where the private dances were held.

“My name is (s/n), if you were curious about that.”

König tried to say something after you told him your fake name, but he was at a loss for words and was unable to speak. He could only look downwards to the floor to avoid showing his intense blush.

He could hear the different music in this new part of the building and small, separate rooms, people were receiving lap dances.

König immediately turned his gaze away from them and focused on you, well, your backside at least. And even that made him look away again.

“Okay, love, here we are. Now you just sit there and make yourself comfortable.” You said with a lilt in your voice, leading him to the leather chair and gently pushing him down to make him sit.

König still didn’t look at you when he was sat, but you could clearly see the cute redness on his face.

“You’re awfully shy for such a big man.. Do I make you nervous, hun?” Your fingers pet his cheek and you turned his face so you could look at him directly. The panic in this man’s eyes was so clear to you.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No no, I..” He finally spoke but couldn’t finish as he was getting flushed again, staring at your nearly exposed body from top to bottom.

“Is this your first time?” You asked as you sat in his lap, making him stiffen and immediately look to the side. His eyes were wide and he bit his tongue, trying to stifle a stutter he knew was coming on.

You leaned in, your hand was stroking his torso muscles through his black shirt and up to his shoulder.

“I’ll be slow and gentle with you. I promise.” You whispered in his ear.

He nearly moaned when he felt a soft pair of lips kissing his jawline and throat. Never had he been kissed like this before. He actually couldn’t even recall a genuine kiss at the moment.

You knew how touch starved he was as soon as his breathing picked up.

Your dance had just started and König was already trembling in his seat.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” You gently commanded and he obeyed, his eyes now turned from the wall to you.

Your body was sat up in his lap and your hands caressed your chest and your sides, giving him a half lidded horny stare. You unlatched the harness from your legs and tossed it aside, even playing with the edge of your briefs.

König couldn’t tear his eyes away, as much as he wanted to at that moment. You were so gorgeous and knew exactly what to do with yourself. It was hypnotic.

He nearly whined when you got off his lap and stood up in front of him.

“You’re so hot, König. So fucking cute.” You breathed out as you did your dance, slowly and sensually just for him. He shuddered at the way you said his name and you smirked. He saw your ass when you bent down and how your fingers teasingly pulled your briefs down a little, before pulling them back up and giving your ass a slap and a wiggle.

After a few minutes, you got back into his lap for the more touchier dance.

The part of your routine that involved grinding against his crotch with your own was enough to break him.

He groaned, but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and coiled in shame. He knew hardly anything of strip clubs but he did know it was not customary to be so loud.

Now this just won’t do, you thought.

You took his hand away and placed it on your hip, grabbing his other hand too and holding it against your chest. König was unsure of what to do but he was thankful you were taking the lead, even if it was embarrassing for him.

“It’s alright, you can be as loud as you want with me.”

Then you started moving against him again.

König sucked in a harsh breath and gripped onto your hip, careful as to not hurt you since he was very aware of his strength.

His gentility and obvious shyness is what you loved about him so far. He was different than the usual patrons. Sure you’ve gotten some shy ones before but this one?

You were convinced he was a virgin. Or at least had sex just once and not since.

Why were you so convinced? Well, the man you were grinding against was getting quite the hard on. And you felt it bulging against you.

König blushed and apologized to you profusely, to which you hushed him immediately. It wasn’t the first time a man was hard because of you, nothing to be ashamed about. You only leaned in close so that your lips were only inches apart from his.

“Do you want to fuck me, König..?”

The Austrian stared at you with shock, trying to find the right words without sounding like a fool. He had never been asked that before, at least not like this. Being bullied nearly all his life, his self confidence was very low and he never would have expected to have someone as beautiful as you on top of him.

“Ah.. yes.. I do..”

You smiled as your hand came up to touch his cheek gently, making him instantly lean into the warmth.

“Can I kiss you?”

There was a question he could answer easily. With a nod, almost an eager one.

You connected your lips to his as soon as he gave you the okay. His were rough in comparison to yours but it fit so sweetly. You also noticed he wasn’t the greatest kisser due to his inexperience, you liked it though. Your eyes and his closed while you both found a comfortable rhythm with your lips.

What a quick learner he was.

You started grinding against him again and he moaned into the kiss, which allowed you to slip your tongue into his mouth.

His eyes were wide open now when he felt your tongue against his. He kissed someone only once before, in high school when a girl was dared to kiss him but it didn’t feel real at all. It felt like a joke, just someone for all the kids to laugh at. And there was certainly no tongue when he got kissed.

No, it felt like you genuinely wanted him.

You cock was beginning to harden as well and König felt it. If he had any doubts that you wanted him then they were quickly vanquished when he felt your bulge on his.

“Mmh, König..” You moaned out and started kissing his throat, giving it gentle sucks and licks. You didn’t want to rush him since he was most likely new to all this. The little grunts and groans he let out told you so.

Your hands came up to stroke his body through the fitted shirt he wore while his hands groped your hips. He went in for another kiss, now instantly addicted to the way your lips felt on his. Kissing was now his favorite thing.

You two stayed like that for a while. Kissing each other passionately and moving your crotch against his back and forth. He felt huge through his pants. You guessed around 10 inches and very thick.

“Fuck.. liebling.. I don’t think I can wait anymore..” He said after he broke the kiss, his chest rising and falling heavily. You saw the shyness in his eyes still, but the horniness that accompanied it was much stronger.

You smiled and got off his lap to kneel down in front of him, spreading his legs apart with your hands. His bulge was very large and pressing against the fabric of his pants. Poor baby, how uncomfortable he must be feeling right now.

The taller man froze when he saw you unzipping his pants with your teeth, staring up at him with a lustful gaze.

To him, you looked so angelic, despite the actions being so sinful.

His boxers were pulled down and his hard cock immediately stood at full attention. You were shocked at the size of him. He must have been 12 inches instead of 10 like you thought. It was veiny, and already leaking pre cum.

How this man kept the monster behind bars? You had no clue.

You cast aside your thoughts and went to work. Your lips closed around his swollen, red tip and gave it a swirl of your tongue— focusing on the underside. This man deserved some good head and it’s the least you could do, for now.

The man groaned and stopped himself from bucking his hips into your mouth. How horrible it would be if he accidentally made you choke. You personally wouldn’t have minded if he did but he had anxiety about it.

You started taking more of him into your mouth, comfortably fitting 5 inches without pushing too far. Your personal record was 8 inches but the ones you’ve had before were less thicker and longer than König.

Your head bobbed up and down on him at a moderate pace.

“Fuck.. oh fuck.. yes, just like that..” The man above you panted and leaned his head back. He truly felt like a king now, just as his name meant. Every time you found his sweet spot he would shut his eyes tight and feel a shiver coursing through his body.

It was only when you swallowed a few more inches of his cock that he snapped his eyes open and looked down at you, surprised you could take more.

Your gag reflex was long gone since coming into this business. While you weren’t a prostitute, you did find a few men attractive that you’d end up fucking them either in or out of the club. And had plenty of practice in blowjobs.

König couldn’t take it anymore. It was so sudden when he came down your throat that your eyes widened in surprise. Thankfully you suppressed the urge to cough and let his warm cum spurt down.

When he finally finished, you took your mouth off him.

“I’m.. so very sorry.. I should have said something.” He said as he was trying to catch his breath, looking like a guilty puppy.

“Don’t be sorry, I liked it.” You giggled a little and stood up to your feet. It was time for something a little more intimate that both of you could enjoy.

You got back into his lap and took his hand in yours, taking his middle and pointer finger and began sucking on them.

König felt his dick twitch when he felt your tongue in between his fingers. Your saliva coated them generously and he was starting to like the fact he was so big in comparison to you.

When you felt it was enough, you took his fingers out of your mouth and guided them to your ass. He caught on quickly and prodded his pointer at your hole.

Your lips parted into a shuddered moan before helping him push the finger inside you, the other following suit immediately.

It didn’t take you long to start riding his digits to stretch you out. And boy, did his fingers do the job.

“Fuck.. mmh… König~” You dragged his name out in a moan as you felt his fingers curl inside you. He was more confident than before and start fingering you himself after a minute or two.

His lips captured yours in a kiss and you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. You would let out a series of grunts and moans against his mouth when his fingers brushed a sensitive spot within you. Hell, you could cum just from his hands alone without even touching your cock.

But you wanted more.

You abruptly took his fingers out and pulled away from the kiss, and König suddenly worried he had displeased you.

You saw the look on his face and moved closer to him, both your cocks now rubbing against each other.

“I want you so bad, König. I want to feel you inside me. I can’t wait anymore..” You begged him softly.

The Austrian man was relieved to hear you didn’t want to stop, but he did worry about how he would fit inside you.

You took the lead and leaned upwards, grabbing his cock and putting it towards your ass. It would be quite the stretch but you could take it.

His tip entered you first and you gasped, slowly sinking onto him. His cum being a lubricant did help, but it was still a little painful.

König groaned and held you by your waist, making sure you weren’t entirely speared on his dick. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. You knew your limits though and made sure to take it easy.

After a few minutes, you were finally able to bounce up and down— slowly.

You figured riding him would be the easiest position to do considering his massive body. It was like being on top of a giant.

“God, liebling. You feel so good inside..” He groaned. “So warm and tight.”

You whimpered as more of his dick filled you up and you laid your forehead on his shoulder. You were fully bottomed out and it was a delicious mix of pain and pleasure you were feeling. It only encouraged you to ride him at a quicker pace.

The two of you exchanged filthy, desperate noises. König’s confidence was building and he even started groping you from the ass, lifting you up and down on his cock while you bounced on him.

Thank god the VIP room you two were in was at the every end of the hall. There was no reason for anyone to barge in and the music covered yours and his sounds well enough.

You felt his lips sloppily giving you kisses on your neck and collarbone, even sucking just as you did before. His mind was hazy and all he could think about was making you feel good.

König decided to be brave and take over.

He turned himself to the side and laid you down on the leather seat, now fucking you in a missionary position. He was able to go deeper inside this way and hit your prostate each time. He had also discarded his shirt as it was getting much too hot for unnecessary clothing.

There was no time to admire his body. All you could see were the few scars he had and his defined muscles.

You squealed as he started thrusting into you hard. Your legs coming up to latch around his waist.

“Please let me take you home, schatz. We can fuck like this all night..!” He grunted. One hand gripped the couch next to your head and the other held your hip in place. “I don’t want to stop here, not when you make me feel like this.. like I’ll go insane without you.”

His words excited you, but he was pounding into you so hard you couldn’t form a sentence— or even say yes. And oh how you wanted to scream yes.

You gasped when you felt his hand leaving your hip and taking hold of your cock, pumping it up and down quickly to the pace of his thrusts.

You felt like you would go insane without him too. The way his body enveloped yours and made you feel so incredible, so sex crazed and desperate for more of his touch.

Beads of sweat dropped from König’s forehead and onto your stomach. He was getting close to release again and hoped you were too.

Wanting to be closer, he leaned down and held you by your waist— before easily lifting you up and fucking you against his bare, sweaty chest. One hand held you by your ass and the other still on your waist.

You snaked your arms over his shoulders and held him tight as he bounced you up and down on his cock.

“Make me yours, König.. ” Your voice was hardly above a whisper.

The larger man groaned loudly when he heard you and buried himself deep inside, letting his cock fill you with cum.

That was enough to send you over the edge.

Your cock painted his chest as well as your own with cum, letting out a silent gasp and shuddering hard. This had to be the hardest you ever came in your life and you nearly lost consciousness.

Exhausted and well spent, König sat back down with you still on top of him. Both of you trying to catch your breath while stuck in a warm embrace.

Now he had to come up with a good excuse to leave his friend a little earlier than expected.

And you needed to ditch work.

________________

I can’t even begin to describe how appalled I was to find zero male readers for König. APPALLED. I LOVE this man.

Also please let me know if there’s specific parts I goofed on, like spelling errors and whatnot because I was in a rush to make this.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Losing Hand

William Tell x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 8: Cockwarming

Summary: William tries to teach you to appreciate poker.

Warnings: cockwarming, p in v sex, cream pie, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1052

You shift a little on William’s lap. 

The deep press of his long, thick cock inside you is distracting you more than you want to let on. Not that William can’t tell. Even if he couldn’t feel every time you clench around him he’d be able to read you like a well-worn paperback. 

He doesn’t say anything though. 

Just lets you move and readjust. You notice the slight hitch in his breathing, the small bob of his throat. But they are minute. Hardly reactions at all. 

You sigh and look at your cards, trying to remember what William has been teaching you about poker. The worst card game in your opinion. And by worst you meant boring. TV and films always made it seem like it was full of royal flushes and straights, but really it was two of a kind. If you were lucky. 

“It’s all about playing the other players, not about the game.” He had said, with a small smile. Though he had at least agreed that poker wasn’t his preferred way to gamble. 

“I’d rather play an interesting game.” You’d grumbled.

You had known you’d been in trouble the second the words left your mouth and a wicked gleam flickered on in William’s eyes.

“Oh,” he smiled widely. “I’m sure we can make it interesting.”

Which is how you found yourself here. Your chest pressed against his, resting your chin on his shoulder, your thighs either side of his. 

You hold your cards behind his back, so only you can see. William does the same with his own. 

The position makes dealing a little difficult, but William’s promised that he’ll play fair and won’t look at what you’re dealt as he passes them over his shoulder to you. And you know that for William, a promise is a promise. 

After around ten minutes you noticed he loosened the top few buttons of his shirt. He was completely dressed, having just undone his fly. While you’d opted to take off your trousers and underwear. 

The cards you had were shit. Unhelpful in practically any card game you could think of. You sighed as you stared at them, trying to decide on what you wanted to do. 

You shift again, stretching your left leg. 

“Comfortable?” William growls in your ear, his voice low and dark. You feel his dick twitch inside of you. 

Somehow you manage to suppress a giggle and nod. “Yeah, you?” 

He grumbles something unintelligible. 

You pause for a moment, the realisation suddenly dawning that perhaps your current position was more frustrating to William than it was to you. Mr Oh So Calm and Collected. 

Sure, you were split open and knew that your slick was running down his balls and soaking into his trousers. But, at least you were able to keep some level of control. 

You pause and wiggle ever so slightly, not enough for him to really call you out on it.

But he groans. A small, low sound that you wouldn’t have caught if you hadn’t been listening for it. 

You stop moving. Leave it for a second before you start up again. This time you contract your walls, clamping down on him and-

“Fuck.” He hisses, grabbing hold of your hips and burying his face into your neck. 

“William, what are you doing?” You tease. “We’re playing poker?” 

“You know exactly what you’re doing.” He mutters into your skin. His fingers press firmly against you, bedding the cards in his hand.

“I don’t know what you mean?” You said innocently as you clench around him again. 

He lets out a small moan, his heartbeat thundering in his chest. He mouths at your neck, scraping his teeth over your skin before he bites down softly. 

You let out a small gasp of surprise, your walls fluttering around him again. 

And William loses it. He stares up at you through his long lashes and rocks you back and forth, his hands bruising on your hips. 

Pleasure flares up your spine as he finally moves. That deep ache that had been festering even since you both started the stupid game explodes into full on need as the tip of his cock brushes against that wonderful spot inside. 

You bite your lip, trying to swallow your moans as you grip hold of his shoulders and move with him. Taking over the angle and tempo so that your clit grinds against him deliciously. 

He buries his head into your chest, mouthing at your breast through the material of your top. You let him for a moment, let him hide his face as he nears his peak. He’s too on edge to hold himself back for long. 

Gently, but with a force you know he needs, you slide your hand under his jaw and push his chin back until he’s looking up at you, his neck taut and exposed. 

His brows furrowed together as he tries to fend off his impending orgasm. Quickly, he lets go of your hip with his right hand and presses his thumb between your bodies, adding extra pressure on your clit. He doesn’t circle it but pinches it lightly with an alternating force that makes you gasp and squirm on his lap as he looks up at you with drunken lust. 

“Fuck, come on baby, please,” he murmurs between grunted breaths, “please, need to feel you squeeze my cock, need to feel you cum on me.”

You grind down on him, desperately chasing your high as he kisses you messily, groaning out fragments of sentences between breaths. “So wet for me, need you so bad, need you to-”

You whine into his mouth as your orgasm crests, pleasure rushing over you as he hits impossibly deep. Pressing into the very heart of you. 

William groans a fraction of a second later, his dick throbbing as you clamp down on him. He spills deep inside, his hips rutting to fuck his spend further. 

He holds you tightly as you both breathe heavily, sweat cooling on your bodies. He kisses your shoulder, nuzzling into you as you rest against him. 

“I quite like poker actually, if all games end like that.” You mumble sleepily. 

William chuckles and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “All our poker games can end this way if you’d like.” 

____________________________________

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