#As I was tagging this post I realized the reason the clothes looked so flat was cause I had textured them so I had to go do that :/

[cryptidflow3r]

Yeet! Have some art!

Look at her! My precious creeper girl <3

ALSO she has a proper human name now! So that's neat!

Her lore will drop for you guys at some point. Still figuring some of it out right now. But I do have a kinda written out bit that I may post soon once I write it out digitally.

Butttt at the same time I feel like that written thing might also make a good comic thingy?

We'll see, I'm undecided.

[summersnow82]

The Scent of Roses - Part 8

Fanfiction_X-Men

Fictober 2023_Prompt 31: “It’s not your fault.”

Author's note: A kind anon let me know my posts weren't showing up in the tags recently. Here's hoping that'll change. Thanks for sticking with me.

.....

Sabrina had been right: her class was not ready to discuss And Then There Were None – which was a shame because it’s a phenomenal read. Instead they had questions, concerns, fears to address, and a nasty rumor about Rogue Sabrina intended to nip in the bud immediately.

“Quiet down, quiet down!” She called, gaining her students attention. “Now let’s be clear here – there’s enough bickering outside these mansion walls. It will not happen in my classroom, understood?” The students all reluctantly nodded. “And further more,” she looked directly at Rogue who was staring at her desk a bit too intently. “Rogue did nothing wrong. Rogue.” The young woman looked up, surprised she was being called out so directly. “It’s not your fault. I made a choice, and some of my team were unhappy about it.” She turned to look at the other students, taking the time to meet their eyes. “I made the choice. Me. So if you want someone to blame look right here.”

Sabrina sighed, raking a hand through her hair. She hadn’t had time to put it in a French twist or a high ponytail like she preferred. She’d barely had time to grab a suitable outfit, but the blue and white polka dot midi dress with a flared skirt, short white gloves, a pale pink cardigan, and navvy ballet flats would have to do for now. She’d deal with her hair later. She moved to the front of her desk, perching on the edge to survey her class. “We’re going to use this class to talk about your concerns with this cure. Your hopes, your fears, all of it. So,” she stood, flashing them a smile, “let’s move these desks into a circle, shall we?”

….

His political appointment as Secretary of Mutant Affairs left Hank with little free time, and for this reason he’d resigned as a full time teacher at Xavier’s school. Still, when he was home he would often take three or four students under his wing for mentoring and academic expansion. Charles had also given him a small drama class to conduct, which oftentimes paired with Jean’s public speaking class. He’d yet to speak to Charles about his news from the President, and to his credit, the older man had let Hank marinate in his thoughts without prompting. But he’d had his cup of coffee – more than one, actually – and time to mull over a number of rising concerns and issues, and now he needed to find his old friend.

And probably take care of some hygiene issues on the way. He glanced down at his rumpled clothes and grimaced.

Xavier’s school had a number of classrooms, but not all of them were presently being used. Several teachers had resigned or left, which wasn’t uncommon. Hank and Sabrina had both left at one point or another, as had Warren and Kurt. Logan consistently behaved as if the front door were a revolving door. Their staff numbers were currently lower than ever, and many teachers were taking on several classes to make sure the students educational needs were being met. Logan was tackling history and shop class; Jean had genetics and public speaking; Sabrina was teaching English while acting as the guidance counselor; Storm had environmental sciences and art; Scott had mathematics and physical education; and the Professor was teaching ethics and psychology. Each adult was part of a rotation for the Danger Room training for the older students, and they were always paired up differently. Hank would need to check his schedule again and see if he needed to trade shifts.

His thoughts consumed him as he headed towards his room, and he didn’t realize he was passing Sabrina’s classroom until he was walking by the doorway. His eyes tracked the way her hair fell around her shoulders, how her eyes lit up as she spoke to her students, and how her lips always seemed to have a touch of a smile as she engaged with them. “All these feelings and thoughts are completely valid, guys,” she said, looking around the room. “We’re in uncharted waters, but I promise you there’s no one better to navigate this than Professor Xavier and Dr. McCoy. You have the best of the best looking out for you.”

Hank couldn’t help himself. He turned on his heel, propped himself up in the classroom doorway, and crossed his arms across his broad chest. “Do you really think so, Professor Snow?” His deep baritone made everyone look his way, but none looked more startled than Sabrina herself. She hadn’t realized she had an audience for her class. A chorus of cheers went up from the students – Hank was arguably one of the more popular teachers at Xavier’s school – and with his political position he was currently a hot topic on campus. Hank regarded the students warmly before turning his attention back to Sabrina. “I apologize, Professor Snow. I didn’t mean to crash your class.” He held her gaze as he spoke, watched her take a deep breath before she forced a smile.

“Nonsense. You’re always welcome here.” Her tone told him he was actually not welcome at all, and a few of the students exchanged glances.

“Professor Snow, can Dr. McCoy join our conversation, too?” Kitty Pryde asked, glancing between the two of them. The younger woman was notably observant and direct.

Sabrina faltered for a moment, but then her mouth quirked up in a small smile. “Of course, Kitty. But I’m sure Dr. McCoy has many pressing items on his schedule. He probably doesn’t have the time.” She shot him a look that expressly told him to take the out she was offering. Instead, he all but smirked, pushing away from the door jamb and striding into the classroom like the cat who ate the canary. With amazing ease and grace he leapt in the air, somersaulted over the students heads, and came to stand next to Sabrina who was perched on her own desk.

“I’m never too busy for you,” he said to the class, but his eyes were on Sabrina’s. There wasn’t much she could do in front of the students without causing a scene; Hank knew it, she knew it, and he intended to take full advantage. “Now,” he said, projecting his voice and turning to face the kids. “What would you like to know?”

A number of hands shot up, and Hank chuckled. “What about you, Bobby?”

The younger man lowered his hand almost reluctantly, then said, “Are you going to get the cure, sir?”

Hank should’ve expected it, but he’d been too busy showboating and teasing Sabrina to consider the ramifications of this very serious topic. He probably looked as stunned as he felt, and for just a ghost of a moment Sabrina placed her gloved hand on his arm. “Bobby, that’s a very personal question,” she said gently.

“Yeah, but it kind of matters, right?” Kitty said. “I mean, if the teachers we’re learning from are considering getting it then maybe there’s some merit to it.”

Hank drew his mouth in a tight, firm line, and glanced over at Sabrina. “That’s a very good point, Kitty,” he said, rubbing his jaw. “If I’m being honest, I’ve thought of it, yes. I suppose every mutant with a visible mutation has considered it. It can be difficult when you can’t pass for a human. However,” he raised a finger. “There is still much we do not know about this so called cure. Will it last? Are there side effects? What else might it do to us?” He stepped away from the desk into the center of the desk-formed circle. “This cure has been released without – to our knowledge – long term testing, and perhaps questionable methods. I have been tasked with answering these questions, and more, and I will be leaving in a few days time to do just that.” He turned back to Sabrina, all seriousness and sincerity now. “I was hoping you might accompany me, Miss Snow. A talent like yours could prove invaluable to our team, and you have the credentials to back you up.” Sabrina’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open for a moment before she clamped it shut. He gave her a small, genuine smile. “Something to consider, of course.”

More hands shot up in the air. Hank took his time answering a number of them, some technical, some incredibly simple, but all important to the students before him.

“What if they come for us here?” A young girl by the name of Jenna asked. Jenna was relatively new to the school, and still finding her voice, figuratively and literally.

The room got very quiet, and Hank rose to his full height. “Then I assure you, dear girl, that would be a most grave error on their part.”

“Professor Snow?” Rogue had been quiet for most of the class, but now she raised her eyes and looked Sabrina in the eye. “Are you going to get the cure?”

Hank turned to see Sabrina take a deep breath, let it loose, and hop down from her perch. She moved around the desk to the black board and began writing. “Anthony Smalls. Three years old. Taken from his home for a million dollar ransom.” Her hand moved quickly as she spoke, the clack-clack of the chalk the only sound other than her voice. “Violet Henries. Six years old. Taken from her school to sway a jury. Jonathan Edwards. Three months old. Taken by a jealous ex-wife. Julietta Gonzalez. Twelve years old. Taken for trafficking. Robert Sweat. Thirteen years old. Also taken for trafficking.” She continued on with a list of names and ages accompanying them with a reason for the kidnapping. The class was quiet as she worked, and Hank watched her as a new level of comprehension descended upon him.

Sabrina didn’t stop talking until the chalkboard – at least what she could reach of it – was filled with names. She turned back to the class. “These aren’t even half of the children I’ve been able to return to their homes and families alive because of my abilities. Another dozen were found postmortem, and the ability to bring their loved ones home offered the families a sense of closure.” She put the chalk down, dusted off her hands, and walked around her desk. She removed her gloves as she did so, securing them in her dress pockets. “I cannot touch anything or anyone,” her finger trailed over a desk causing her eyes to faintly glow. “Without taking something away. Memories, thoughts, emotions. In some cases, even talents and abilities. This makes relationships difficult.” She brushed by Hank as she spoke, and he tracked her path with curious eyes. “I walk into a room and I immediately can sense the atmosphere. This makes crowds difficult. I can’t go to concerts or movies on opening night or many special events. But I can assess danger quickly, read a person’s intentions, and bring children home to their families. Our lives as mutants are not easy ones; I know Professor Xavier has drilled this into you in his Ethics class. Oftentimes what we think is a curse is actually a gift. Maybe not for us, but for someone else.” She pointed at the chalkboard. “If I can do that, what can you do?” She turned to Rogue. “I won’t be getting the cure, no matter how much I might be tempted. Someone has to keep the real monsters at bay.”

[sexypossessor]

I posted 132 times in 2021

121 posts created (92%)

11 posts reblogged (8%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.1 posts.

I added 14 tags in 2021

#writing advice - 5 posts

#the underground game - 1 posts

#body swap - 1 posts

#alien abduction - 1 posts

#biker - 1 posts

#celebrity - 1 posts

#leather - 1 posts

#inspiration - 1 posts

#writing styles - 1 posts

#denying requests - 1 posts

Longest Tag: 20 characters

#the underground game

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

OBEY!

Life had been particularly cruel to you. You grew up with an abusive dad, was bullied all throughout high school because of your small frail body, lost your best friend in a car accident and just recently had an intense argument with your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend, Derek, was a real piece of shit. He’s your classic alpha male. Tall, buff, handsome, arrogant, self absorbed, dominate, quick to loose his temper and has a large package. He has everything but a heart. That’s the reason you guys fought. He didn’t care about how your friend passed away. All he cared about was dominating you during sex.

The two of you have been giving each other the silent treatment for the past 2 days. You’re about to get dressed for work when you notice a flat cap with the word OBEY on it that doesn’t belong to you or Derek. You pick it up and found a note attached to it. The note claims that the first person to see the wearer of the cap will be forced to obey any and all commands the wearer gives them.

All logic within your brain is telling you that the cap is some bullshit prank Derek is pulling on you but you have a strange urge to put it on and try it on. The cap was a few sizes too big but you didn’t have time to fix it as Derek entered room.

“Where did you get that cap? Asked Derek.

You ignored him and began putting on my jeans.

“So this is how we’re going to play this? Still giving me the silent treatment? Bitch.” He said as he pushed me back onto the bed.

“You know what. You’re a dick Derek. I’ll admit you’re amazing in bed but you’re a word class asshole and I can’t do this anymore. We’re done. I’m breaking up with you! You grab the rest of your clothes and start to head out the door when you hear Derek shout.

“You’re the worthless one. You really think anyone wants your pathetic ass? I’m doing charity work by being your boyfriend!”

That’s when you snapped.

“You! You act all high and mighty and maybe you’re right. Maybe I am pathetic  but you need to face the truth that you are more pathetic than me! Underneath the muscles and gorgeous face, you’re nothing but a little kid desperately screaming for attention!” You yelled back.

“So this is what you’ve been upset about. You’re jealous of my body. The body of a real man. You could’ve just said so. I know I’m the perfect specimen.” Derek teased.

“How can you be so infuriating? My friend just died. I’m grieving! The fact that I would love to have a body like yours is not the issue!” You proclaim.

“So you do want my body! I can’t blame you it is the perfect body.” Derek taunted.

“Just shut up!! You don’t deserve your body! You insult other people because you’re the one who is inferior!” You retorted.

A moment of silences passes by.

“What no snarky comeback! No I’m perfect and everyone else lives to serve me?” You mocked

Another moment of silence passes and I turn to face Derek.

“Well say something!” I yelled with a new found confidence. Just a day ago you’ve never been able to stand up to Derek like you just did but something felt different.

“How did you do that? I wanted to speak but was unable to.” Derek asked with confusion.

You looked at him with a mix of confusion and awe. “You really couldn’t speak?”

“No I couldn’t. What is it that you’re not telling me you little bit…”

“Shut up” You interrupted him and just like that Derek stopped talking mid sentence.

“The hat fucking works.” You mumbled to yourself realizing the power you now hold over Derek.

“From now on you’re going to OBEY my every order. You got that.”

At first Derek just stares at me in awe of the power you now possess. After a few seconds of processing what you just said Derek nods his head and says “yes sir”.

“You’re going to fuck me right and pump all your DNA into me. We’re going to transform into each other because you’re a filthy piece of shit who doesn’t deserve the alpha body you have been given!”

“Yes sir!” Derek said as he undressed himself as quickly as he could.

He then grabbed me and pushed me to the wall. You quickly stripped out of my jeans and underwear leaving you completely naked aside from the cap.

See the full post

171 notes • Posted 2021-03-13 18:01:01 GMT

#4

Sir, can you help me? I am a 24 year old male. I have always had what some would call “all brain and no brawn”. I have always wondered what my life would be like if it was reversed.

Here try on this black Chicago Bulls shirt and listen to this podcast made specifically for huge brutish jocks. Just listen to the voice carefully. Don’t think just listen. Let your inner jock come out.

As you listen your brain is rewired to focus on sports, working out, and dominating any hole you can. Those are now your only thoughts, not much else happens up there. Your muscles bloom and your pecs push the once large shirt. The sleeve of the shirt can now barely contain the huge cannons that you call biceps and your face becomes more jockish. You become more cocky, confident and musky.

You then exist out of the shop and head to the gym. I wish you a good time as your new jock self but you don’t hear it. Your only concern is growing bigger.

172 notes • Posted 2021-03-16 21:24:03 GMT

#3

Hello sir, I have a very good friend, who is average. One of his biggest regrets is not playing baseball in high school and not being extremely social, he doesn't want to end up with a jock attitude but more of the jock body. Is there anyway you could help him?

Hmmm you’re the first person to ask for someone else’s desire to be fulfilled. Quite the selfless person you are. I think I’ll help the both of you. Make your friend a baseball jock and you a volleyball jock.

Just tell your friend to wear this cap backwards and try batting some balls. Oh you were staring at him the whole time? I bet you were, especially since his body blossomed with mountains of muscles. Did he form some solid abs? Ha I knew it. He likes to swagger around shirtless right. Of course he does, he’s a full grown jock now, at least on the outside. He’s still the friend you know and love on the inside.

Now it’s time for your change. Let me just lather up your body with this protect sunscreen while you toss the volleyball in your hands. This sunscreen is actually my own creation, it absorbs some sunlight and converts it into muscle mass to jockify who ever it is applied to. Step outside, feel yourself grow larger and stronger. You’re not as big or strong as your friend but you got a handsome face, nice chiseled abs and a more cocky attitude now.

See the full post

179 notes • Posted 2021-04-27 18:22:46 GMT

#2

Bully the Bully

This is why you should never bully anyone. You see, I haven’t always looked like this. This is actually the body of my college bully, David.

David here has been making my life miserable so I decided to get a little payback. I decided to use my magical abilities to swap our bodies.

Now I usually don’t use my magic for such selfish reasons but he crossed the line when he created a fake account on Grindr and cat-fished me on a fake date. To make matters worse he video taped the whole thing and ruined my entire life. I was the laughing stock of the whole campus.

Now I bet he’s regretting bulling me around, especially when I now possess his sexy and muscular body. Now I can let loose and have some fun taunting him with his huge muscles.

204 notes • Posted 2021-03-12 15:30:33 GMT

#1

Hello Master ~ I'm a 21 year old trans man, 5'4", about 165 lbs. I was wondering if you could turn me into a hung, jock-y himbo? I hate the body I have now, I'm short, and fat, and it just all feels wrong. Please, Master, can you help me?

Your request has moved me. It’s terrible to see people in anguish over bodies that feel wrong. Come here.

Take this t-shirt. Try it on. I know it says ‘papi’. No, it’s not a joke. Yes, I’m sure it’ll fit. That’s it.

You’re feeling it, right? Your fat is melting away, only to be replaced by some nice jock muscle. Not too big, we want to avoid that feeling you had of being overly large.

You will grow taller, however. Let’s get you up to 6′2″ that seems a good height for the new you. Tall, with thick thighs and bulging biceps. Your chest is nothing to scoff at, and your beautiful abs are a nice finisher for your jock body. Tattoos begin to adorn your arms, denoting how you care to make this body feel yours.

The changes reach your face. Some rearranging and the new you is here. A nice, trimmed beard. Very masculine. Perfect lips, ready for any kind of action you want. Short dark hair, and empty eyes. Yes, empty. You wanted to be a himbo, no?

Oh, and you also wanted to be hung. Don’t worry, you are. Everyone can tell. And you like it when everyone can tell.

Now off you go. You have a whole world of people whose attention you need to catch, my little himbo.

234 notes • Posted 2021-02-18 16:38:16 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

My tumblr review for @theundergroundstories

[serenityseventeen]

♪ The Last Day of Summer With You

DK/Dokyeom/Lee Seokmin : Tag Along the Beach

You felt the summer air hit your face, mixed with the soft sound of the crashing waves.

The sand beneath your feet was soft and you loved the feeling of sinking your toes in it. Seokmin was holding your hand, gazing at the beautiful baby blue sky. The ocean was a beautiful deep blue, sprinkled with the sparkles of the sunlight's reflection on the waves.

“This feels so good!” Seokmin said, opening but of his arms, his right hand still clasped with your left. “The breeze of the ocean blending in with the hot summer day just makes everything perfect!”

You smiled, turning to look at your boyfriend who had his eyes closed. You couldn't help but stare at his side profile, admiring his sharp nose and jawline, thin soft lips, and cheekbones, and eyes, and everything else about his face. You loved this look of his; his hair was a bit messy, flying with the direction of the breeze, and he just looked so genuinely happy, and this ball of sunshine you were staring at was your boyfriend.

“Are you happy?” You asked.

The wind was practically roaring, making it hard for him to hear you. He knew you said something but for some reason, the fact that he didn't hear what you said even though you two were standing next to each other made him laugh.

With his hand habitually covering his mouth while he laughed, Seokmin opened his eyes and turned to you. “Sorry, I didn't hear what you said, can you repeat?”

You chuckled, wondering how he could look so innocent. Even when he asked you to repeat what you asked, his eyes were twinkling.

“I asked if you were happy,” You replied.

“Hmm, happy?” Seokmin turned back to face the waves, slowly moving his feet to the left, to be closer to you. “Of course I am. When I'm with you, I'm happy.”

You smiled at his sweet, sincere words. You turned to look at him, who was now less than 8 inches away from you. He was staring at you with loving puppy eyes which made you burst into soft giggles.

“How about you? Are you happy to be here with me?” Seokmin asked, gently placing his chin on your shoulder. You kept wondering why you had to fall in love with such an attractive man. Each small thing he did was heart-wrenchingly adorable to you.

You moved his head from your shoulder with your hand and tilted your head. Today, you just couldn't stop smiling. You couldn't tell if it was because of the weather or because your boyfriend was just being so adorable on the last day of summer. Of course, it was the latter.

In a soft voice, you leaned in and bumped your forehead against his gently, your hand moving to his cheek. “I am over the moon right now, Seokmin.”

Seokmin smiled and placed his hand on the back of your head. As your foreheads broke apart, Seokmin raised his head and pressed his lips on your forehead tenderly as his hands patted the back of your head. It was just something about his touch that made you feel euphoric.

Once his delicate lips left your forehead, his hand traveled to your neck and he leaned in, ready to give you a sweet kiss on the lips, but before he could, you dodged his lips by ducking and began to run.

Seokmin was a bit confused at first, wondering why you had avoided his kiss and ran off like that. He would have been hurt if not for your healing, mischievous giggles that echoed through his ears as if there was no other noise.

Seokmin quickly realized that you wanted to play a game of tag! He chased after you, yelling with an innocent smile, “Hey!”

Running on the sand was hard and drained a lot of your energy. You thought you had run a far distance but when you looked back at the beach, you were surprised to see Seokmin quickly catching up. The chase was thrilling and your laughter from the excitement only made you more tired.

Seokmin was laughing a lot too. The moment was just beautiful, it was fun, and though he was wasting a lot of his energy, he didn't want to give up. He could tell that your pace was gradually slowing down so he took the chance and charged at you.

You were panting, trying to run on, but the hot golden sand under your feet was much more difficult to run on than it seemed. You turned back to check on Seokmin's progress only to get surprised by his arms lifting you into a bridal carry.

You let out a surprised shout and your hands reflexively wrapped around his shoulders.

“Woah, woah, woah, Seokmin!!” You already knew what his next destination would be. He was smiling mischievously and the only thing you could see reflecting in his eyes was the ocean.

“Do you want to go in there? I think you'd like some nice salt, don't you think??” His sarcastic tone was making you laugh as you kicked your feet.

You did your best to cling on to him. The sound of the ocean waves was getting closer. You shut your eyes and buried your head in his shoulder. “I think I'll pass on the salt-!”

“Oh?? I heard that saltwater is healthy for you though??” Seokmin teased. His legs were now soaked in the water and he held you out a little toward the ocean.

There was nothing wrong with getting wet a little but you didn't want to because your clothes would then need to dry and the process would be very long.

“Stop spouting nonsense!” You replied, clenching your teeth. You tightened your arms around him and Seokmin laughed, slowly getting out of the water.

“Okay, okay, I'll let you go this time.”

Gently, Seokmin placed you down on the soft sand.

“Now, what do you want to do?” Seokmin asked, dusting off the sand stuck on his legs.

You naturally walked behind him.

Without a response, Seokmin found that rather odd, and within seconds, an idea of what you were trying to do sparked in his head.

Quietly, you were about to push your boyfriend's back into the water but you were caught. Seokmin had turned around just in time to catch your hands and you in the mischievous act.

“Hey, you- seriously!” Seokmin said. He tried to walk forward but you continued to step back with a childish smile. “Come here!”

Both of you were being so immature but for some reason, it was so fun and you were laughing so much. You continued to back up but suddenly, you slipped and fell, your butt hitting flat on the sand.

Seokmin burst out into laughter and you did too. He didn't help you up, instead, he just fell onto the sand with you.

The sun was now hiding behind a cloud so staring at the sky wasn't as bright as before, when you two were playing tag.

Seokmin threw his head on the sand, tiredly lying down, and slipped his hand in yours naturally. You smiled and joined him on the sand, not caring if sand would get in your hair or stick on your clothes. With your hand in his, you just wanted to lay down.

Both of you were panting, feeling the last summer whispers blow past the tip of your noses.

Out of the blue, Seokmin yelled to the sky, “I LOVE YOU!”

You laughed, turning your head to him. “All of a sudden?”

Seokmin giggled and shrugged, you could tell he wanted to say, ‘Why not?’

Both of you laughed and he took into your arms. Both of you rolled in the sand for a bit before deciding to stop since the sand was getting in your hair and sticking on your faces.

You didn't mind getting a bit dirty. It felt like you and Seokmin had suddenly become kids, spending the whole day doing childish activities on the beach.

It was the last day of summer, after all.

Why not enjoy it to the fullest?

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

a/n: okay I know I'm a bit late but I wanted to save my fangirling over DK's Xcalibur musical until his imagine was posted so here's my initial reaction when he finished his first 2021 show: I woke up (the day after his musical) and saw so many posts about him having 4 kiss scenes in one act, his acting improvement, and carats simping for Guinevere 😭😭😭 I hope that they record it and sell it as CD... I would love to see it... I also saw that Moonbin and MJ attended his second show but I'm not sure??? I don't know and I might not be in the position to feel proud, but I really do feel proud of him!!! I heard that his acting improved a lot and that he did much better than the first time he played King Arthur!! I really want to see the musical ❤️

[agentwhiskeypussyindulgence]

Whiskey Kisses (Agent Whiskey x plus sized Reader)

Authors Note: Hello!!!! If this looks familiar it’s because it is! This was written in the middle of my covid sickness back in January and I have not touched it since lmao. I figure it might be better to edit it a bit, and post it all as one rather than two separate entities since the second part was only separate bc I hadn’t written it yet at the time I posted the first one. I’m hoping that I’ve gone through and removed any glaring descriptors that will exclude folks but the one thing that remains is that this is a plus sized reader (gotta leave a little bit of me in there lmao!) This was/still is my first attempt at smut so I'm hoping I've read enough to get somewhat of a grasp on it ✌ Plot is the same, wildly incredibly self indulgent, Whiskey is as charming as ever and hopefully the new post will get some fresh eyes on it! Hope everyone enjoys~~

Word count: ~7000

Warnings: NSFW 18+ fem plus sized reader (a bit of body insecurity that is Very Brief), Daddy Kink, Loss of Virginity (including insecurity about being a virgin), Praise Kink, no y/n used, excessive use of pet names bc Whiskey is a menace,If I’ve missed anything please don’t hesitate to let me know!

The place smelt like smoke. That was first scent that hit you as you moved through the crowdto the bar, claiming a seat on the side nearest to the exit. This was your first time out and about in your new city and you weren’t exactly sure what you were here for. At the least you would get a good night of entertainment from people watching from your position at the bar. Maybe you would make a friend. That’s how it worked for people your age right?

It had been so long since you had to put yourself out into social situations that weren’t engineered to create bonds--this wasn’t school and it wasn’t work, the two places where you felt confident about your social skills. You feared you might be a little behind on friend making procedures. This was only your second week in town. You’ve moved from home because you knew you couldn’t stand one more day in your hometown. Moving back after college had been a great way to save up money, but you were tired of living with your parents and tired of the same small town views. It hurt leaving your folks and it hurt to leave your friends even more. But you knew that sooner rather than later they would be moving out into the world. That’s what was expected and you were terrified but immensely excited to be the first one in your group to make the leap.

Now you’ve found yourself here alone in a bar nursing some sugary drink that had been listed in chalk on the special board outside the bar. You didn’t mind being alone. In the past you’d learned to enjoy your own company —going thrifting on your own or heading to see a movie when everyone else was busy. That being said, you found being alone in a bar a much more harrowing experience. You didn’t usually spend much time alone in places where the drunken masses gathered. Parties, clubs, and bars weren’t usually your scene and let alone without your group of friends there as backup.

You were out to be social yet still hoped that your phone would serve as a good enough reason for no one to come up and ask for a dance. Sure, there were some attractive people in the bar tonight, but you were only on your first drink and didn’t have enough in your system to get yourself out on the dancefloor with someone you didn’t know. Not yet at least.

Your attention was pulled from your phone by a movement in your periphery, a silhouette passing behind you. It was a…cowboy?

That wasn’t who you were expecting to see. This wasn’t a country bar by any means and he stood out amongst the other patrons in their casual clothes. He kept a respectful distance leaving a seat between the one he chose and yours as if to not block you in. You stared, taking in his outfit, he seemed like the real deal. Cowboy boots with spurs, well-fitting denim jeans, and a Stetson seated on top of dark hair. Only thing out of place was his shirt. You weren’t a hundred percent sure what kind of shirts cowboys wore, but you weren’t betting on a nicely pressed dress shirt.

He looked young upon first glance, then you noticed the smile lines around the corner of his eyes and mouth. That and the way he carried himself, his essence, revealed that he probably had some years on you though that didn’t lessen the attraction any. He turned suddenly and you couldn’t look away; embarrassed as you were to be caught staring. Not when those gorgeous brown eyes met with yours. He raised a hand to the brim of his hat and honest to god tipped it in your direction with a smile and a quiet “Evenin” on his lips.

You cleared your throat and cradled your glass in your hands, fingers working to twist and turn it. “Evening…didn’t expect to see a cowboy in here tonight.” You take a small sip. “Doesn’t really seem like your scene” you finish, looking around at the crowd, all dressed differently but certainly no cowboys among them.

The stranger lets out a laugh and a smile lights up his face as the bartender works his way to your side of the bar. “Maybe not darlin but this cowboy is home anywhere he can find a beautiful lady and a whiskey, neat.” He says this last part to the bartender who you find standing in front of the two of you. He gives a nod at the cowboy and glances over at you and you notice your drink is almost empty. “Put this sweet thing’s next drink on my tab” he says with a wink in your direction and you can’t help but feel heat flood your face. This is the first time you’ve ever been bought a drink by a stranger at a bar.

You realize the bartender is waiting patiently on you and you panic. You had wanted to switch drinks after finishing this one off, tired of the sugar, worried over the hangover it might bring. “Oh! Uhm, whiskey neat also. Thank you.”

The stranger sitting close to you raises his eyebrows at your order, his eyes glancing between your own and the remnants of your sugary cocktail. You smile and give him a shrug “Buyers choice I suppose.”

He lets out a chuckle and holds his hand out across the empty seat between you. “Jack Daniels. Nice to meet you.” You give him your hand and your name and you watch as his eyes trail over you.

He smiles, as if he’s seen something he likes once his eyes have finished their exploration. You can’t blame him as you had just done the same thing. But you couldn’t help but be a little puzzled. You hadn’t really dressed with the goal of attracting attention to yourself tonight. You chose your favorite pair of light-wash jeans (you were told they hugged your curves nicely) and a band t-shirt with a light flannel on top. It was comfortable and you looked nice, but you hadn’t dressed to impress.

The drinks arrive and Jack raises his glass in the air and tips it in your direction. You hurriedly grip yours and do the same, smiling at the clink of meeting glasses.

The whiskey stings your lips, chapped from your habit of nervously biting at the soft skin in new situations. You don’t often drink whiskey and you attempt to school your face into something neutral, trying not to cough, as the smoky alcohol burns its way down your throat. A burn that you find yourself enjoying mere moments after it passes. You over at Jack who doesn’t avert his eyes when you catch him staring at you, an amused expression on his face. If he noticed your brief grimace that came with your first sip of the whiskey, he was a true gentleman and kept it to himself.

“Is Jack Daniels really your name?” Taking him in with an incredulous look. Who the hell is named after a whiskey brand? Or who uses it as a fake name and then orders it at the bar? Sighing with a smile, he nods. “It was a name before a brand, sugar. Plus, now all my friends can call me Whiskey. You can too if you’d prefer.” He finishes with a wink.

Setting his glass down he doesn’t give you time to react beyond your surprised stare. “So. What’s a beauty like you doing all alone, stuck here talking to an old man like me?” You let out a laugh and look at him incredulously. Confirmation that he was older but you wouldn’t have thought to call him an old man. He’s really laying on the charm thick though. You can’t say you’re mad at it.

“I’m new to town.” You reply. “Figured after a week of unpacking and organizing I deserved a night out on.” He gives a grin. “I don’t know about the other fellas in this joint, but I for one love an independent woman.” Grinning you take another sip from your glass, the burn still there but less aggressive. “Well we all have to learn to be independent one way or another right?”

Humming in agreement he meets your eyes with a smile and doesn’t look away. Cheeks continuing to burn away, you give a smile back. This much undivided attention on you is new territory. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t reveling in it.

“So what do you do when you’re not out wooing the ladies at the bar? You a real cowboy?” You ask, giving him another once over. As a general piece of knowledge from living in a town with some farming areas you knew that genuine Stetsons and real leather boots didn’t come without a hefty price tag. And he certainly didn’t look cheap.

“I’m an agent for a secret independent intelligence agency.” He says this with no hesitation or humor in his voice. Simply a flat reply. You raise your brow at him and snort into your glass. “And now that you’ve told me you’ll have to kill me right?” Jack takes your joke in stride “I don’t think I would ever deny the world a beauty like yours by killing ya darlin”

He swirls his whiskey in his glass as you blush. “Really though I work on the board for Statesmen Distillery. We’re based in Kentucky.” You smile with a nod, taking another sip from your glass “Well that certainly explains- well just about everything about you. How’d you find yourself here then? Need a vacation?”

This line of questioning leads you and Jack chatting back and forth about nothing and everything. He asks about your family, the move, how you found yourself moving from your hometown all by your lonesome. He tells you about his job, the boring meetings, how he really enjoys spending time on his ranch, watching the sunset. (He pulls out his phone at one point, showing you a picture of a calf that you can’t help but coo at, directing baby noises at the phone in his hand. He seems endeared by this.)

You had always had a hard time talking to people you didn’t know, keeping to your same group of friends because of this reason. With Jack though you didn’t feel any lulls in the conversations, no awkward silences. You couldn’t remember the last time it had been so easy to have a conversation with someone.

As the two of you finish off your second round of whiskeys, a slow country song begins to play from the speakers. Most of the crowd looks confused at the shift in vibes from the DJ booth. The DJ in question points towards the corner where you and Jack have been sitting and winks; odd to pander to the one cowboy in the crowd. You’re not going to complain though, and it seems, neither is Jack. “Tennessee Whiskey. Just like my namesake.”

He hums in appreciation before he stands, holding a hand out to you. “Would you like to dance darlin?” You’ve never been much for slow dancing, but you knew you’d be kicking yourself with regret if you said no. You place your hand in his as he leads you out onto the dancefloor. The music swirls around the two of you and you feel your nerves spike, hoping your hands aren’t sweaty, that you don’t step on his feet and praying to whatever god is out there that you can keep the rhythm. But as he gently tugs you closer into his embrace you feel any apprehension disappearing you’re your mind.

You find yourself looking up at him, dark and beautiful brown eyes meeting yours. You take a risk and lean your head against his shoulder as you sway, taking in a deep inhale of his scent. It’s beautiful, not too strong. You can smell the whiskey on his breath and you wonder what cologne he uses. It’s something oaky and fresh and the combination is enough to intoxicate you even further.

“Sugar…” the pet name comes out as a whisper from above.“I’d be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t ask if I could kiss ya right now.” You pull back looking up into those eyes that you could get lost in. He’s leaned in close to you now, his breath dancing across your lips. You part them to respond and you knew you would be doing yourself a disservice if you didn’t say yes.

Wordlessly you nod and can’t help the sigh that escapes you as he tilts his head and his lips meet yours.

It’s not your first kiss, but you can count all the previous ones on a singular hand. He’s gentle, his hawkish nose that you’ve found yourself enamored with brushes softly against your cheek as your lips dance together. You hum in contentment, bringing your arms up and around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and it may sound juvenile but you hadn’t had much experience with tongue kissing. You part your lips anyways, following intuition, allowing his tongue access. The sensation is foreign but not unwelcome and you can’t help moaning, and his hold on your waist tightens as you’re pulled even closer against him. You spend a few moments in the middle of the dance floor in his embrace, tongues dancing together and thoroughly getting lost in him.

He pulls back for a moment and you’re thankful he made the decision because you hadn’t even noticed the fact that you still needed air. You cringe at the whimper you let out as your lips detach, you hate at how pathetic you sound, hate that you instinctually go to chase them. It doesn’t seem like Jack cares though, he’s gazing down at you, bringing up a hand to rest on the side of your face, a thumb coming to sweep across your bottom lip before swooping down for a second kiss. This one is much more brief. “How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy?” he murmurs against your lips.

You freeze up at his question knowing exactly what he’s asking. Your eyes going wide as you try to stammer out excuses that won’t reveal your true hesitation. This particular insecurity doesn’t come up a lot but you’re never sure how to breach the topic of your virginity whenever scenarios like this pop up.

Jack pulls back, a concerned look growing on his face at your muttering. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, doll. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable. We don’t have to do anything other than sit around here all night. I’d enjoy any time spent with you.” His eyes met yours and they were so kind and soft and you felt your heart melt a little at his crooked smile. You had just met him but you made up your mind to tell him the truth so he wouldn’t walk away from the night feeling terrible.

You always make up something else and run before you can embarrass yourself further. Your younger years are supposed to be your “prime” and you know in your mind that it’s completely normal for you to still be a virgin. That being said you have always felt like it was some kind of barrier blocking you from ever truly being comfortable with romantic entanglements.

You sigh as another song picks up. You’re both still holding onto each other and swaying to the beat and you open your mouth to give this man some peace. “Jack I… listen you’re incredibly attractive and I love a cowboy, I really do. And you didn’t make me uncomfortable! I just-” you chew on your lip again, thinking if there was a better way to say this before deciding on just getting it over with so you can stop wasting his time.

“I’ve never…been with anyone like that before and I as much as I wanna save a horse and ride a cowboy, I know a lot of people don’t want the virgin burden on them so I completely understand if you want to find someone else for the night so you’re not wasting your time.” It comes out rushed and in one breath, you’re avoiding his eyes not wanting to see the disappointment that might radiate from them. When you finally looked up, he was still staring at you with those gentle eyes, it was too much for you and you cast your eyes back down.

In an instant you found his hand gently holding your chin, lifting your gaze to meet him once more. “Hey. Look at me. You ain’t got anything to be embarrassed about darlin’. And you’re certainly not a waste of my time. Far from it. Ain’t nothing wrong with being inexperienced.” His eyes crinkle with a smile directed at you and you grin back feeling relief wash over you. This is honestly the best one of these conversations.

“Now listen,” he continues “if you just wanna dance and drink the night away, I’m thrilled to get to know you more.” You nod waiting for the ‘but’ you knew was coming. “But if this is something you want to try and I’m the fella you wanna try it with, well then-” He leans down, voice dropping and breath dancing along your ear “-daddy will take care of you.”

He studies you then, gauging your reaction at his phrasing. He knew it was a bold move but hoped that it would pay off. And lucky for both of you it does. Your eyes widen and you let out a short gasp as you bite at your bottom lip. The term he used sent a spark of arousal directly through you and in that moment you know that Jack is exactly who you need to come home with you tonight.

You give Jack a nod and he caresses your face with his large calloused hand. “I need to hear you say it, sugar.” And fuck it if that doesn’t get you feeling all warm inside. “Y-yeah” it comes out shaky not purely from nerves but also through the adrenaline you can feel coursing through your body. “Take me home Jack.” He practically beams at you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and tugging you back over to the bar so he can pay the tab. You didn’t walk in here expecting to leave with someone tonight but you’re the furthest thing from disappointed as the two of you rush out the doors.

--

You both make your way through the bar's exit and you find yourself standing in front of a vintage Ford Bronco, Whiskey holding the passenger door open for you. You smile and slide into the seat. “Such a gentleman. But you know, this isn’t the car I was expecting a fancy distillery man to own. But it does feel quite fitting.” You muse as he takes his own seat and starts the engine, the radio on low crackling to life. “It’s my pride and joy” he hums, gently patting the dash. “Anything could happen to me as long as my baby here is safe.”

You laugh at the man’s love for his car until the chuckle is cut off by Jack’s hand coming to rest on your leg. His touch is gentle, and he drags his palm up from your knee to your upper thigh and back down again. He glances at you from his periphery “This alright darlin?” You nod as he resumes his movements, tracing inscrutable patterns with his fingers whenever his hand pauses in its path.

You feel the telltale heat of arousal begin to pool in your stomach. You’re not unused to that. The new and exhilarating part of the scenario tonight is that you have someone else to take care of it. Someone other than your hands and your well-used vibrator. You’re thankful that the drive back from the bar to your apartment is short. If it was any longer than the ten minutes it took you might actually explode.

Jack pulls up and you direct him to park in the spot next to your own car. One that looks far worse than you usually find it when compared to the well taken care of Bronco next to it. Jack, continuing to be the gentleman he’s been all night, opens your door for you once more, grabbing your hand as you sling your purse over your shoulder and make your way towards the front door. The elevator ride up to the 5th floor is rife with palpable tension and you almost melt at the gentle circles Jack makes with his thumb on the back of your hand as it sits entwined with his.

The moment the two of you cross the threshold of your doorway you expect everything to begin at once, all passion and clashing lips. You find yourself surprised when you’re not immediately pressed against the door and ravaged like in the movies, and you see Jack take in your living room.

Luckily everything had gotten sorted in your first week and the only thing to indicate a new occupant were the stack of boxes in the corner that you needed to take to the recycling bin behind the building.

His eyes trail along your bookshelf, scanning the titles bookended by little trinkets and tiny figurines you had gathered from gifts and mall vending machines. He admires the paintings on your wall, all excellent purchases from the local Goodwill you thought.

You shift from foot to foot not entirely knowing how to start things off. This is your first time and Jack is the one showing you the ropes so you hover next to your couch as he finishes his scan of the room, turning to you with a soft smile. “You’ve made this place feel homey already, sugar. I love it.” You beam back at him happy to explain your interior design choices but in a moment he’s taking two large strides in your direction. “Now, mind if we pick up where we left off in the bar?” He brushes his knuckles gently across your cheek as he waits for your response and in an instant you’re already reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck once more.

It’s cliché and you know it but when his lips connect with yours once more you feel fireworks. An explosion of arousal deep in the pit of your stomach as you grant his tongue entrance. The kiss isn’t rough but it is passionate. You had always had the inkling that you would find a tongue in your mouth invasive and gross and you are thrilled to learn that isn’t true. Or maybe it’s just because of the man you’re with. Jack seems like the type of guy who can make anything feel good and you can’t wait to see what he has to offer you.

Detaching his lips from yours you find yourself unintentionally pouting. He laughs at his before leaning down to latch his lips onto your neck and the pout disappears as a moan rips through your body as he begins to suck and bite up your neck. Jack is savoring every moment he spends kissing you, you can feel the restraint lurking behind every kiss. You can feel your legs turn into jelly and you’re grateful for the hands around your waist and the couch back behind you for all the support you certainly need right now.

As Jack soothes a bite with his tongue he moves his hands from your waist and places them under your ass instead. He tugs you forward, your balance unstable without the couch behind you. You feel his muscles get to work and suddenly you’re off the ground letting out a startled gasp. “Don’t worry, sugar. Daddy’s got ya.” Instinct kicks in and you’re wrapping your legs around his middle, groaning at the contact between your clothed core and his waist. You hadn’t realized how desperate you were for some friction until now and it hits you like a freight train. Dropping your head against Jack’s shoulder you hear his laugh from above you. “Hmm, someone’s impatient ain’t she?”

Lightheadedness consumes you, astonishment at his strength combined with his teasing giving you an incredible heady feeling. “Jack please…” you rub circles into the nape of his neck and you feel his breath huff into your hair as he groans in response to your begging.

Wasting no time he carries you to your bedroom and gently sets you down on the bed. He stands above you as you stare up with wide eyes. He kneels in front of you at the edge of your bed and reaches a hand up to begin to slip the flannel from your shoulders. The gentle touch of his hands sends a shiver up your spine, even through the layer of clothing.

Soon your shirt is off and he’s tracing lazy patterns on the swell of your breasts. He gently palms your boobs through the lacy fabric of your bra and drags a thumb across the raised material where your nipples are hardening underneath. You’re not sure how much longer you can handle the touches, gentle and tantalizing and just enough to leave you wanting more. You move your arms up and back to unclasp your bra, throwing off the side of the bed to be dealt with in the morning.

Jack’s eyes are trained on your breasts now, even more so than before. There’s a hunger there, a desire that you’re not used to seeing directed at you. He leans forward and cups one breast with his hand and secures his mouth over your peaked nipple. You groan in pleasure and press your chest further into him, despite there being not much more space to fill.

He drags his tongue across your nipple before sucking, repeating the process every few seconds. You’re pleasantly shocked at the little nibbles that are peppered across your chest once he’s had his fill of licking. You move your hand down to gently grip at the back of his head, pressing him closer. “Daddy please, keep doing that it’s so good!” He eases his mouth off, a pleased smile on his face. “Anything you want sweetness.” And promptly moves to the opposite breast, continuing his work.

Soon you’re left panting and hungry for his same talented touch in a much more sensitive place. You tell him as much through panting breaths and he wastes no time to start shimmying your pants and underwear off with your help. He stands for a moment, beginning to remove his own clothes, a pile of his country wear being left in the corner of your room. You admire his broad shoulders, the hair on his chest, slim waist with just a hint of a belly that you’d love to kiss. You follow his happy trail down eyeing the prominent bulge in his jeans begging to be freed.

As you lay on the bed spread before him, you’re overcome with the urge to curl up into a ball to cover yourself. You wouldn’t say that you’re unhappy with your body. You love your curves and your tummy. No you’re not insecure…not entirely.

Jack is a handsome man and you’re lying here wondering if this is what he wants to see. You curse yourself for letting your insecurities try and ruin your night with this handsome man who clearly wants what you want. You fold inwards on yourself only slightly, bringing your legs closed and positioning yourself more on your side than on your back.

Jack finally back at you from where he’s been stripping and glances over at you with a furrowed brow, noticing the change in position. “Sweetness what’s wrong? We don’t have to do this if you’re having second thoughts.” You shake your head so quickly that you almost make yourself lightheaded. “It’s not that. I just-” you pause trying to think of the right way to explain yourself without sounding incredibly pathetic.

But it seems like Jack can read your mind. Before you can even continue to draft your thoughts, his brow straightens and an incredibly soft look crosses his features. He stands from his spot and kneels in front of you on the bed. “Doll, you are one of the most gorgeous creatures I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. I just wanna make you feel good. Will you let Daddy take care of you?”

You can feel the heat bloom in your body and you nod as you release a shaky breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding. Jack smirks at your reaction, pleased that you’re less in your head.

He stands and holds you by your hip, urging you to rotate onto your back. Once you’ve done so, he grabs your ankles pulling them apart and down so your legs are dangling off the bed. He kneels on the ground in front of you once more and you see that his eyes are dark with lust. You feel dizzy, knowing that you’re the one having this effect on him. He lifts one leg over his shoulder, and then the other; finishing by sliding his hands under your ass and tugging you closer.

Any potential embarrassment is immediately banished from your mind as you feel his breath against your wetness. He wastes no time, flattening his tongue and licking a broad strip up from your slit to your clit. Your eyes widen at the sensation and you let out a loud gasp as he does it a second time. His tongue licks at your folds before his lips settle on your clit.

Immediately, as if they had a mind of their own, your hips try to buck into his mouth. Desperate for more pleasure, more of that tongue on you. You feel Jack grin against you and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep them still. “Woah now sugar, calm down.” He’s only removed his mouth a few inches, the hot breath teasing you with its closeness makes you want to writhe on the bed. Jack must feel the tension in your hips because he chuckles. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna give you what you need.”

His mouth is on you again, alternating between swirling patterns on your clit and filling you with his tongue. The noises coming from his mouth as he works you closer to pleasure are filthy and you’re about to comment when he pulls back for a moment. You let out a ragged breath and sit up a bit, wondering why he stopped. He takes a thick finger and drags it up through the combined wetness of you and his spit. It teases near your opening and you groan as your want for more sparks once again.

He chuckles at your expression. It’s not a mocking one, you can tell with the way he’s looking at you, the softness in his eyes like he’s the lucky one for sharing this with you. He’s not away from you long. That same finger is entering you now and nothing has ever felt this good. You didn’t realize how different it would feel with fingers that weren’t your own. Yours always felt too methodical, his felt magical.

“You’re sweeter than honey. Did ya know that?” you’re glad you managed to open your eyes as you look down at him popping that same finger into his mouth, sucking it clean. You know you must look ridiculous, your eyes blown wide with lust and jaw hanging slack and open in shock.

You feel yourself clench tightly as Jack moves to slide a second finger in. His free hand reaches up to hold your hip, his thumb moving in calming circles along the skin there. “You gotta relax sugar.” He moves his head back to your clit, speaking directly into you. “I want ya to feel good. Just relax.”

You do your best to follow his instructions, taking a breath and focusing on his hand on your hip and his mouth on your most sensitive area. Feeling your muscles relax, Jack grins into you. “That’s a good girl.” And the praise makes you shudder. He moves a second finger through your folds gathering the pooling slick and slides them into your entrance. You can feel his fingers thrusting inside you, taking breaks to scissor outwards stretching you out in the most delicious way. The fingers curl, finding a spot you’ve never managed to find in your years of exploring your own body.

You throw your head back against the covers as you let out a wanton moan, eyes clenched shut in pleasure as he continues to stroke that sweet spot. You’re so lost that you don’t take notice of a third finger slipping in as he picks up the pace. You’re panting now, breath coming out rapid and hot as your chest heaves with the labor of trying to keep some semblance of calm as the man between your legs wrecks you. Between his fingers thrusting into you and his lips sucking at your clit you can feel your orgasm rushing up on you like a speeding train. You reach a hand down, hoping Jack doesn’t mind as you grab onto his hair letting out a breathless “Jack I’m gonna-” you can feel him nod slightly, groaning at the pressure of your fingers gripping onto his hair and the vibrations finally do you in.

You feel yourself clenching again, this time due to the amount of pleasure running through your body and your legs close gently around Jack who works you through your orgasam, only letting his fingers slide from you once you go limp against the sheets. He gives you another broad lick for good measure and you whimper from the overstimulation, not being able to form words yet.

He rises from his kneeling position and crawls onto the bed, one knee between yours, the other bracketing your leg. You stare up at him with glossy eyes, tracing over his slick mustache and chin. Reaching up, you circle your arms around his neck and bring him down for a kiss, slow and passionate and you moan into his mouth as you taste yourself, sweet and tangy, on his tongue. “You ready for more sugar? We can stop here if you need you.”

You know it’s the bare minimum, really, but you can’t help but be moved by the constant check-ins from Jack. It means a lot to you that he’s looking out for you every step of the way.

Not much for words for fear of getting to emotional, you reach over to your bedside table and pull the drawer open, fishing out a bottle of lube and a condom. You hand both to Jack and correctly reads this as an answer to his question. Looking down, he raises a brow in amusement. “A pink condom huh? That’s new.” Biting down on your tongue to hold back a laugh, you shrug under him. “They were free at the last pride I went to. Gotta stick with the thematic rainbow colors right?” He laughs with you ripping the foil open and rolling the condom onto his cock and you’re glad the two of you can laugh in the moment.

“Now sweetness, I’m gonna need you to relax again, alright? Daddy prepared you with his fingers but as you can see sugar, his cock is much bigger.”

Your eyes trail down his body and he was right. His cock was much bigger than his fingers and much bigger than the dildo you had made yourself comfortable with. But Jack has been patient and gentle all night and you’d be lying to yourself if the thought of him inside of you didn’t set a fire coursing through you.

His words sent heat right through you down to your core, you might have been overeager but his tone had you spreading your legs for him with a wink, a bold feeling suddenly overcoming you since your first orgasm. “I’ll relax daddy. I’ll be good.” His smile is blinding as he grabs one of your pillows and helps you settle it under you, lifting your legs to bracket his own hips.

He notches his cock at your entrance and your breath catches in your throat. He was right, it’s much different than his fingers. More filling, more intense, but just as pleasurable. The pain and pleasure intertwine and set your nerves alight. He inches in slowly, giving your body time to adjust to his size, the entire time he’s praising you, pressing kisses to your face, neck, and chest. “That’s a good girl. Taking me so well. That’s it sugar, keep breathing. You look gorgeous under me like this.”

His praise pulls you into his orbit further. Sooner than you expected you feel his hips make contact with your ass and you realize with a moan that he’s fully in you now. He remains still and bent over you, kissing you deeply, your fingers tangled in his hair. The stillness is agonizing, you need him to move and move now.

“Daddy!” you whimper, and you’d be embarrassed at the tone of your voice if you hadn’t felt him twitch inside of you. “Please move! Please, I'm ready for you to move.” He groans into your neck and obliges. He moves back, pulling out at a torturously slow pace and you feel his cock drag along your walls letting out a breathy moan. He pushes back in slowly too, continuing with this pace until you’re pulling at his hair again, whimpering and begging him to go faster.

“Alright darlin, you let me know if we need to stop now.” You eyes are trained on him as you nod, internally mesmerized at how much care he’s been taking tonight. You can’t say one way or another but you think it’d be hard to find someone to come into a bar hookup with this much gentleness.

“You’d be wonderful to tease darlin. You know that? I could listen to those noises all night, keeping you on edge. You think you’re begging now?” You clench at his words knowing that you were at his mercy, that at this point you’d let him do whatever he wanted as long as he kept cooing praise in your ear. “But tonight is about you, no teasin. Your wish is my command sugar.” He picks up pace and you can’t believe what you had been missing.

Your legs lock around his back bringing him in closer and you find yourself holding on, arms linked around his neck as he takes you on a ride.

What started off as a careful pace on Jack’s end, wound up pushing you to your limits. You didn’t think it would feel this good your first time. Maybe that’s what had kept you away for so long. But any fears had no place here as Jack rocked into you picking up speed with each thrust.

With one hand on your hip holding you steady, Jack leans down to start sucking a mark on your neck, pulling back to admire his handiwork in the form of a red mark that he knows will last a few days. In response your hands in his hair tighten their grip as you both let out simultaneous moans.

“Such a good girl for me.” Jack’s grunting into your neck at this point, his breath coming out hot and heavy, fanning across your skin. “Making me feel so good.” His thrusts are getting erratic now, losing rhythm. His hand dances across your skin, skimming across your chest before finding its way between your legs, thumb working small and quick circles on your bundle of nerves.

“You got another one in ya don’tcha sugar? I wanna see your face when daddy makes you cum.” You’re past words at this point only able to nod your head and moan in response.

With a few more powerful thrusts in tandem with the pressure on your clit you’re coming around Jack’s cock, head thrown back against the pillows with eyes rolling back in pleasure chanting his name.

Jack groans at the tightness around him and the expression on your face. He fucks you through your orgasm, removing his hand from your clit as he grips tightly onto your hips.

When Jack finishes, its with a shaky breath and a drawn out moan right next to your ear. And though you were on the verge of overstimulation so close to your last orgasm, the sound sent another pang of arousal through your body. You were definitely gonna store that away for later.

The two of you remain entangled for a bit. He’s softening inside of you as he gently peppers kisses to your forehead, nose and cheeks. You’re thoroughly exhausted, reveling in the attention and when he dips down you find yourself nuzzling into the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. You worry for a moment that it’s too intimate for a bar hookup but immediately chase that thought off with a deep inhale, taking in the smell of sweat and sex and remnants of his cologne. It’s intoxicating.

Eventually he must tire of holding his body up so as to not crush you and he slides out of you slowly. You have to admit that you miss the fullness and only pout slightly as he stands from the bed, making his way into the bathroom.

When he returns the condom is gone and he has a damp washcloth in his hand. He kneels on the bed and begins gently wiping away the sweat on your brow, trailing the warm rag down your chest and between your legs. You can’t help but hum in contentment, not having expected this level of care after a one night stand. He balls up the rag and tosses it with expert aim back into the bathroom and you couldn’t care less where it lands. All you want is him back in your bed and pressed against you.

Words aren’t needed. Jack seems to read your mind and smiles down at you before crawling into bed behind you. You inch your body closer to his until you find his arms wrapping around your middle, tugging you close and eliminating the gap.

“Thanks for that Jack….that was-” you pause trying to find your words. “-that was fucking phenomenal.” You feel a huff of laughter against the back of your neck before feeling him shift positions allowing him to press another kiss to your temple. “I aim to please darlin.”

You close your eyes briefly before a pang of anxiety worms its way into your mind. “Will you still be here in the morning?” The question is quiet, whispered. Half of you wanting an answer and the other half hoping he didn’t hear as to not reveal yourself to be as vulnerable as you feel.

“Course I will sugar. I reckon–if you’re amiable–that there’s a few more things I can show ya.”

You’re giddy at the thought and can’t help but giggle. “I’d love that.”

You’re not sure where this thing between you two will go, but even if you only have him for one night, you know that it’s an experience you’re never going to forget.

[got-svt]

signs

order up !  large americano at 75% sweetness, a slice of strawberry shortcake, and a slice of cherry pie with mingyu for anon <3 order notes :  mingyu x reader, angst, fluff, a first date, brief mentions of other members, cameo from eunwoo bec i watched true beauty and was in need of another 97 liner, and a very nervous mingyu, he just wants everything to go well smh look, something’s written on your cup... hi ! for transparency’s sake this is an edited version of something that i posted a while back that i deleted. so if you are the anon who requested this but couldn’t find it, here it is now ! 

summary : all mingyu wanted was to go on one nice date with you, was that too much to ask? well, according to the universe, it was.

word count : ~2.8k

The first sign was he woke up a little too late, technically it wasn’t even a sign, considering that it was entirely his fault anyway. Mingyu had spent all of the previous night preparing for your date with him — making little sandwiches, cutting up some fruit, baking cookies to be put in little plastic containers. After hearing that you hadn’t been to the park in quite a while, never really having a reason to go, he decided that a picnic wasn’t too bad of an idea for a first date. 

Mingyu had wanted to ask you out for the longest time, being friends with him ever since both of you knew how to talk. It was easy, your friendship with him. Neither of you ever felt like you had to put up some sort of front, or have walls up incredibly high. He asked you out in the most casual of ways too, like it wasn’t that big of a deal. You couldn’t tell but on the inside, he was freaking out — that came with not knowing how you’d react and the possibility of rejection.

“Are you free tomorrow?” Mingyu asked, unable to meet your eyes.

You nodded, slightly confused at his inability to match your gaze.

“Okay, I was thinking we can go to the park tomorrow since you told me you haven’t been there in a while. Maybe we could go on a picnic?” He spoke as if he didn’t start preparing for this days ago, looking up fun things to do while on a picnic or a park — picking wildflowers together was high up on the list of things he wanted to do with you.

“Oh, sure! I’ll text Wonwoo and the others to see if they want to join us—”

“No!” Mingyu exclaimed, a little too loud and a little too quickly, a hand in front of you like he was about to physically stop you from doing something. “I was thinking that it could be just the two of us, you know?”

He hoped you would pick up on it, the implication from the nervous tone in his voice, how when he finally gazed up at you with softness in his yes. He was asking you out, on a date. Mingyu wished that you could tell. Unfortunately for him, you didn’t.

You shrugged your shoulders before giving him a smile, “Sure! We’ll meet there at around 10?”

And he couldn’t tell that you didn’t pick up on it either.

Mingyu woke up groggy that morning, his phone on the bedside table, calling out to him with the sound of a text notification. 

[Y/N]: where are you? I’m already here >:(

His eyes widened, falling off his bed in shock once he realized it was already five minutes past 10 am. Mingyu took a shower, put on his clothes, grabbed everything he needed, and sped past the door in twenty minutes. This was not how he planned it out in his head. Mingyu was supposed to surprise you at your place, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. No matter, he still had the rest of the day to sweep you off your feet and ask you to be his.

The sun shone brightly that morning, but it was neither hot nor humid. It was actually the perfect to be outside, with multiple white clouds littering the pale blue sky, a soft breeze blowing through the blades of grass, children running around playing tag — their laughter filling the air. Mingyu smiled, determined that today was going to be perfect

His eyes scanned around the are for any sight of your familiar figure, eyes lighting up when he finally spots you. Mingyu makes his way over, the nervousness that slowly started to creep up on him becoming amplified once he realizes that you were talking to someone else. 

The first thing he noticed was how big your smile was as you talked to this person, stretching across your face and crinkling your eyes. Did you ever smile this much around him? You stood a few feet away from the man, but you were very clearly comfortable around him — lightly pushing his shoulder as you laughed, peering up at him through your eye lashes. You finally notice him walking to you, waving your hand and beckoning him to move quicker.

“Hey Gyu!” You grinned, greeting him like you always did, a quick one armed side-hug.

“Hi, Yn.” Mingyu attempted a smile, but it felt a little restrained, gesturing to the person you were just talking to, “Who’s this?”

“Oh! This is Eunwoo, we dated a while ago but it never really worked out.” You shrugged, waving it off like it wasn’t that big of a deal. “You were taking so long and I happened to run into him so we were just catching up a bit.”

“I see..” He trailed off, holding a hand out for Eunwoo to shake. He had known you for years now, and yet he had never heard you mention an Eunwoo to him before. “Nice to meet you, man.”

“Likewise.” Eunwoo replied, shaking Mingyu’s hand before turning to face you. “I won’t keep you too long. My number’s still the same, we should meet up for coffee sometime.”

Mingyu couldn’t help but furrow his brows at the sight of you enthusiastically accepting Eunwoo’s invitation. The little tug on his heartstrings was hard to ignore as he watched you give a quick hug goodbye to your ex-boyfriend — a very attractive ex-boyfriend for that matter. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, why did he have to wake up so late? If he had been there on time, you wouldn’t have been able to catch up with him for as long as you did. If he had stuck to his original plan of picking you up, you probably wouldn’t have seen him at all. 

Kim Mingyu wasn’t the jealous type, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but feel exactly that. Especially when he had been pining after for you for so long now, he didn’t want it to come crashing down just because of one person. 

“You’re pouting.” You commented, quickly noticing how uncharacteristically quiet he had become. The two of you walked side by side, hands ever so slightly brushing against one another. You hoped that the warm weather would be enough of an excuse for the red flush that made its way to your cheeks.

Mingyu shook his head, he didn’t mean to have you worrying for him. “Don’t worry about it.”

His reply made you even more skeptical, should there be something you’re meant to be worrying about? But you decided to drop the question, maybe it truly wasn’t that big of a deal.

You and Mingyu found a spot in a less crowded area of the park, you no longer the heard the sound of children screaming or their exhausted parents calling out over them. Instead the melodious sounds of birds tweeting up at the sky filled your ears, a delicate wind blew between the two of you, and the sun’s glare becoming much softer as it finally became covered by the clouds. 

He takes out a blue picnic blanket and lays it flat on the ground, smoothing out imaginary creases in the process. You hold a hand out to him, wordlessly letting him know that you’d like to set the picnic up with him. Mingyu hands you the picnic basket, and you spent the next couple of minutes in silence as you tried to make everything look almost picture perfect. The silence was far from uncomfortable, manifested by the small smiles and the growing blushes on both of your faces. There was something rather domestic about the activity, handing him different containers of food, deciding together where everything should be placed.

“Did you make these yourself?” You asked once both of you finally settled down, gesturing to the wide array of food that lay in front of you. 

Mingyu smiled, a hand on the back of his neck as he suddenly became ever so slightly bashful, “Yeah. I hope you like it.”

You take a bite of one of the chocolate chip cookies, something in you decided to tease him a little, making a face of slight disgust as you swallowed. His heart sank, a look of disappointment clearly covering his face. He spent all night making those, weren’t they up to your standard?

Panic washes over you as you saw a frown overtake his once smiling face, “I’m kidding! They’re good.”

Mingyu lets out a breath, the disappointment slowly disappearing as the two of you settled into an easy conversation, though that was never really difficult for the two of you. You and him have been friends for about a few years now, but he didn’t really know when exactly he started to see you as something more. He just knew that he did. This much was clear to him when he catches himself staring at you for a little too long, definitely longer than what would be considered normal. There was just something about you that enchanted him, whether it was you laughing over some silly joke he made, frowning as you become disappointed in the latest episode of a show you were watching, face illuminated by the light of a tv screen. You could be reading him your grocery list and he’d still think it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

The extent of his feelings terrified him the first time he realized they were there in the first place. Mingyu wasn’t meant to feel that way for you, one of his closest friends. But he did, and the thought of you possibly not feeling the same way terrified him even more. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, head tilted to the side, “Do I have something on my face?”

Mingyu shook his head quickly, he didn’t mean to stare again.

You felt a sharp sting on your ankle, wincing as you immediately yelped from the pain, “Ouch!”

“What’s wrong?” Mingyu asked, eyes alight with concern. 

You shook your head in response, thinking it was just a lone ant deciding to inconvenience you. That thought was quickly dismissed when you felt another equally sharp sting near that same area. 

“Oh no…” You trailed off, looking a few meters to the side of your picnic blanket,  “Mingyu…”

“Oh!” He exclaimed, following your gaze to the trail of ants that were quickly making their way to the two of you. Great, was nature against him too?

The both of you immediately got up, covering containers, placing them in the basket, and folding up the picnic blanket before the rest of the ants could step their tiny little feet onto the blanket and into the food. As you walked to find a new spot to continue the rest of your date, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel a little bit discouraged. Three things had gone wrong in the span of a few hours, was this just the universe warning him that the two of you will never work out? Maybe telling him to back off early before he gets his heart broken. 

In the distance, a low rumble breaks through what would’ve been the perfect day out, followed by a sharp crackle piercing through the air. The sky once a brilliant blue was suddenly covered in heavy, stormy clouds. The park that once basked in the sun’s golden glow became shrouded in gray, people seemed to know what was about to happen as they hurriedly packed their things and go home.

It started out a small droplets, like little kisses on your skin that almost felt like nothing. They were small, and they fell ever so slowly. For a brief moment, Mingyu thought that this was going to be over quick. Then suddenly, the sky weeped, loud and heavy as it drenched the entirety of the park in rain. 

Okay, nature was definitely against him now. 

Mingyu stopped walking, was there even a point to moving forward? Everything was ruined. The food should be inedible at this point, you and him were soaked and freezing, and it’s not like you could have a picnic on muddy park soil. At this point, the universe had sent him so many signs, he’d feel like a fool if he didn’t listen now. But still, he wished things had happened the way it did in his head. He let out a frustrated groan, tears nearly pricking the corners of his eyes.

“Are you okay?” You asked, a gentle hand on his shoulder. Mingyu was very clearly distressed, but you failed to see why. It’s nature, it’s not something you or him could control. Things like this happen and you should be spending your energy trying to find a place to shelter yourselves from the rain. You grab onto his arm, trying to pull him away, “Come on, let’s find a place that can cover us.”

“No! I’m not okay, Yn…” He trailed off, agitation seeping into each and every one of his words. He shrugs off his arm, much to your surprise. Usually, he’d let you cling onto him for as long as you liked. “I just wanted today to be perfect.”

You furrowed your brows, slightly confused at his irritation, “Why does it matter if today is perfect or not?”

Mingyu sighed, he was getting cold now. He wanted nothing more to be wrapped up in a blanket and have you in his arms. But he knew the chances of the happening now are essentially slim to none. The day was already ruined, and there’s nothing he could do to even remotely salvage it. “I just…”

You gestured for him to continue, waiting patiently as he tried to find the words to say.

“I wanted to give you the perfect date…” He spoke, looking down at his feet.

“Wait, this was a date?” You didn’t mean to sound surprised, you just genuinely were. Voice raising octaves and eyebrows shot up, talking too quickly to catch most of the words, “Like a date-date? I thought we were just hanging out! All you asked me yesterday was whether or not I was free!”

Mingyu’s shoulder’s slumped. He didn’t have to ask you to repeat himself, he heard you clearly despite how hard the rain currently came down, the beating of his own heart deafening him. In a way, he was thankful for the rain; at least you wouldn’t be able to tell if a few tears escaped his eyes. “I’m sorry, I just thought…yeah, no. I should have expected this.”

Guilt immediately flooded your senses, he must’ve read your shock as a rejection of his feelings. You didn’t mean to sound so startled at him thinking the entire day as a date, you just couldn’t believe the possibility that he felt the same way you did for him. “Mingyu.”

You were sure if he had heard you, his gaze still on the ground. You called out to him again, this time your voice much louder and sterner, hoping that it would get his attention. “Gyu.”

“What is it, Yn?” He looked up to find you making your way towards him, a small pout forming on your lips. Mingyu sighed, “You don’t have to do this. I’ll be fine.” 

“I like you.” You spoke, just as you were about a few feet away from him, looking into his eyes to make sure he knew that you meant it — that you were being completely serious.

His world stopped. Suddenly, it seemed like the earlier events of the day never happened. He never woke up late, you hadn’t gotten the chance to catch-up with your ex-boyfriend, ants never tried to show up uninvited to your picnic, rain never poured down on the two of you. All these things he thought were signs from the universe, never occurred. There was only you and him, and you liked him back. 

“Oooooh you wanna kiss me so bad.” You teased, attempting to snap him out of his trance.

Mingyu didn’t mean to stare at you again, speechless. He just couldn’t believe that this was real just yet. But your words, how you looked at him with a smile — expectant, like you were challenging him to do something, to make a move — finally made him realize just how real this was. “And what if I do?”

You blinked back, not expecting that bold of a response. Still, you took a single step forward, further closing the already small distance between the two of you. “I’d let you.”

Without another word, he moves a hand to your chin, gently tilting your face up so his lips could meet yours in a kiss.

— thank you for visiting cafe amore ! feel like ordering something else? check the menu here.

[starryseung]

lee felix + smut

☾

word count; 1.6k words

warnings; stimulation using a knife, fingering, royalty! au

prince! felix bites back a smile as he walks up the stairs. he looks up at you, only to see your mother, the queen, staring down at him with a graceful, elegant smile, welcoming the king and queen of their neighbouring kingdom who had arrived at their palace for her daughter’s hand in marriage.

celebrations, festivities were organized all around the kingdom, as the news of the princess getting married wasn’t to be taken lightly; especially if the royal lee family’s son was the one she was going to be married to. women and girls of all ages were dying to see a glimpse of the charming prince’s smile, his sweet gaze overturning their hearts. but you, you were the lucky one who was going to have him to yourself the rest of your lives.

“psst,” felix whispers, grabbing your attention. the servant standing between you smiles, and you simply wave her off. “hey,” you smile back, fingers messing with your gown as you look back down to avoid the attention of anyone else.

felix feels like he’s about to burst into tears, the fact that he was going to marry the love of his life constantly bugging him, making his heart bloom. you two had met each other in the woods towards the outskirts of your town, when you were practicing horse riding, and he was out hunting. since then, it’s been a frequent meet, and felix couldn’t express in words how much he was head over heels for you.

“you look beautiful today,” the prince flaunts, still keeping his voice low. you’re a blushing mess by now, it was obvious. you couldn’t control your feelings in front of the man, and it had been so long since you’d met him. “thanks, you too.”

“a—are you calling me beautiful?” felix grins, and you giggle softly, covering your mouth as you shake your head. “no no, i meant—”

“now that we have agreed with the wedding,” felix’s father’s voice echoes throughout the marble and concrete castle; “it’s time that the prince and with your permission, your highness, the princess, shall spend some time alone.”

your mother nods in understanding, smiling at the two of you as she gestures you and felix to head upstairs. you send felix a look, standing up to leave before bowing to the others. he follows your actions, smiling sheepishly as he trails behind you.

you open the door to your room, standing aside so felix could walk in through the door into the room he had sneaked into multiple times through the window in the past.

“ah, after you, princess,” felix bows, feigning respect while you giggle at his antics, rolling your eyes before walking and pulling him inside. you hum before plopping yourself onto your bed in the far centre of the room, draped with a white and pale blue canopy. felix laughs before walking in further, sitting himself down onto the mattress as he eyes your room, smiling at the small drawings you had made on the walls as a child.

you sit back up, nudging closer to him and resting your head on his shoulders.

“it’s finally happening,” you smile, thinking about how you were finally going to marry the love of your life about whom, surprisingly, your parents did not know about.

“yeah, it’s gonna be weird walking into your room from that door instead of jumping in from the window,” felix laughs and you chuckle beside him, holding his arm as you play with his fingers. he tangles his fingers with yours, smiling softly at the soft feeling of your hands against his calloused ones.

“felix?”

“hmm?”

“i love you,”

the prince sighs, smiling so hard his jaw hurts. he turns around to face you, pecking your lips as if replying to your sudden confession— the one out of thousand times you’d already exclaimed your love for him.

“you do?” he asks, smiling before kissing you once again, this time deeper, biting your bottom lips ever so lightly.

“yeah, a lot,” you breathe out, focused on the intoxicating feeling of his lips on yours. he pulls open a knot on the back of your dress, letting the corset untie itself as it falls loose. felix pushes you slightly backwards, so you’re back to lying on the bed. easily swinging a leg over you, he rests a hand beside your head so he’s upright, pushing his tongue in you when you gasp at his quick actions. he fishes out something from his pocket, something you can’t recognize, but it comes in your view when he moves lower to your jaw, nipping at the skin. for some reason, he had his pocket knife out in his hand, and for some reason, even after spending so much time with him, you hadn’t ever seen it. 

he moves lower, pulling your gown off of you in nearly two swift attempts, the lack of the heavy garment on you making your skin feel relieved, the warm air of the room engulfing you. he snaps open the knife and you can only see a glint of the small letter engraved on it, y/n, and when he subconsciously flips it, you see his name, felix. he kisses lower and lower against your skin, stopping when he reaches your bra.

“is it pretty?” 

you bite your lip to hold back a smile, realizing he had created the blade, just for you.

“yeah, it is,” and it’s only a split second since the words have left your mouth, before the tip of the knife gently comes in contact with your temples, the cold tip grazing against your warm skin as he brought it lower, eyes glinting in fascination as you whine at the cold feeling, a wave of sensitivity taking over you.

“you like that, princess?”

you nod, biting your lips to hold back any more noises to create suspicion outside your room. felix smirks, gliding the metal down to your bra, unbuckling and tossing the clothing away before bringing the tip back to your exposed breast, placing the cold surface flat against your perked nipples. you whimper softly, mouth hanging open at the sensation against your buds, your panties uncomfortably sticking to yourself.

“tell me if it feels bad,”

you nod again, too focused on the blissful feeling as he moves lower, dragging the knife carefully along with him. he reaches your white underwear, smirking as he cuts the fabric in a second before pulling it away from you, chuckling at the wetness slowly dripping out of you due to his previous teasing.

“is this because of me, princess? i did this?”

“y—yeah, felix, you did,”

he smiles, bringing the wide part of the knife carefully against your heat, and you bring your hand up to your mouth, shielding back the loud moan. it felt heavenly, the cold metal pressed against where you needed it the most, the mere sensation sending your brain in a frenzy.

felix knows the effect it has on you, bringing the knife away before cleaning it against the sheets; bringing it back to your cunt. this time, knowing how you feel about it, he presses it straight against your clit, and the effect it has on you has him grinning from ear to ear. your back arches away from the bed, thighs trembling as he rubs the metal against your folds, mindful of the sharp edge. your small whimper and moans make him fall further into the want of making you feel pleasure, and he pulls away the wide knife before bringing it back onto your clit, rubbing it in circles. 

“mmh felix, please,” you groan softly, clawing at your sheets, half sorry for the maid who will have to come and clean up your room. but that thought stays just for a mere second, felix’s fingers replacing the knife as he pushes it back into the pocket, tossing it on the bed. he rubs two fingers against your hole, spreading open your folds as he prods his digits.

he’s pushing them in ever so slightly and you clench around him at the foreign feeling, toes curling in pleasure when he pushes them deeper. he groans at the tight feeling you provide around his digits, breathing erratic from the way his fingers curl in you, scissoring you as you feel your high closer, like a thousand pins pricking at you. he thrusts his fingers quicker, gyrating his palm against your clit in a way you’re seeing stars.

“i— ah, felix,” your thighs shake violently under him, his fingers continuing their movements in you as he rides out your thigh. you drop your head back on the sheets as you finish off around his fingers, trying to even out your breaths as felix cleans you up with a rag he found on the chairs, cleaning up his knife as well before stuffing it back in his pocket.

he helps you get into your dress, tying your corset as he looks at you through the mirror, and you break out a small giggle at his focused expression behind you as he tightens the knots once again, double-checking you out in the mirror.

he kisses the side of your head and then your cheek, smiling before holding your hand to escort you out of your room.

he leans in to whisper into your ears, a quick ‘i love you’ before leaving you blushing, walking ahead to reunite with the rest of the royal heads to continue with the discussions of your wedlock.

—

a/n; welcome to ep. 1930127495124 of my fics aren’t showing up in the tags :D i was gonna post something else today but lets keep it for next time hehe ;) and i honestly thought about keeping changbin in this, but i realized there was like 1 felix fic on this blog, so that’s changed now >:D thanks for reading!!!!

taglist; @joengni @cherryeol04 @lomlminho @bruh-changbin @yooniversalstudios @ann0325441904 @yourdaddychan @nightshade-minho @yangomangos (message me if you want to be added!)

@stayverse

[i-can-sabotage-me-bi-myself]

Hello there! I decided I'd post my fic in a separate post as opposed to having it in a thread. Enjoy!

There Is Suffering Too Terrible to Name

Relationship(s): Castiel/Dean Winchester

Character(s): Castiel, Dean Winchester, Jack Kline (mentioned)

Chapter(s): 1/?

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Dean Winchester is a big softie, Jackie-pooh, Sad!Cas, cuddles galore, bunker, canon!verse, first kiss, friends to lovers, angst with a happy?ending

~•》¤《•~

"Cas, we're not getting Disney Plus," Dean tried to reason with the newly human Castiel for the hundredth time. Of course, both being stubborn, they've been endlessly arguing about purchasing Disney+.

Dean was never the touchy-feely chick-flick type, and of course his mind immediately went to the fairy tale princess films―the ones which, in Dean's opinion, displayed completely irrational expectations for a happy ending. However, he's oblivious to the other content the app contains...

Castiel did his signature squint, biting his bottom lip, clearly deep in thought. A smug smile began to etch his features, and Dean clearly noticed, sending him a glare. Eventually, after minutes of silence, Cas spoke.

"There's Star Wars," Cas bribed Dean, which deemed a success. Dean immediately shut up. Sighing and lowering his head in defeat, he nodded, finally giving in.

Cas smiled, an excited gleam in his eyes that expressed his gratitude.

This made Dean's heart flutter and stomach flip. Cas's smile that immediately followed instantly made it worth it, though he never wanted to openly admit it.

He had tried time and time again to push down those intimate feelings he had for Cas, trying to convince himself that they were only friends, and nothing more. But he was kidding himself―there was no getting past his relentless feelings for the fallen angel he so hopelessly adored.

"Dean, are you alright?"

Dean realized that he had been spacing out, and he saw that Cas was tilting his head and squinting, visibly concerned. Cas had gotten closer to him, reaching his hand out to lay a soft touch on Dean's arm. This sweet but genuine gesture sent tingles throughout Dean's body, and he felt blood rushing to his cheeks, embarrassed.

"Uh, y-yeah I'm alright. Just... go enjoy a movie or something," Flustered, Dean scrambled out of what served as the Bunker's living room, before immediately closing the door behind him. He lingered, shakily letting out a sigh as an attempt to collect himself.

¤

Hours later, Dean walked past the living room door, hearing music on the other side. Pressing his ear against the stone cold door, he listened intently, and realized that Cas was watching a musical.

"Of all the things he could watch, he had to go and watch a musical?" Dean huffed, speaking to no one in particular.

Dean hesitated before reaching for the door knob, and finally gave in. Twisting it slowly, the sounds of hip-hop grew louder, echoing throughout the room.

He glanced over at the flat screen TV, and saw people in 1700-ish clothing, breakdancing and rapping.

Stupid. Dean thought.

Dean strode over to where Cas was sitting on the couch, who was listening to every word and observing every movement that came from the actors.

Dean smiled at the sight of Cas's dorkiness. Still the same Cas.

"Hello, Dean," Cas grinned, eyes still glued to the television. "Are you alright?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Um, yeah. I'm alright. I just wanted to check up on you―see what you've been watching. It's been hours, man."

Castiel paused the show. He finally averted his ocean eyes towards Dean, patting the seat next to him, inviting him to sit, which Dean obliged.

"Well, I watched this movie called 'Mr. Boogedy', which was highly annoying," Dean chuckled as Cas continued. "Then I watched another movie called 'Halloweentown', and though such a town doesn't exist, the film was pretty good."

Dean always loved when Cas took things too literally. Even though sometimes he should be annoyed about it, he still couldn't hide the smile that crept on his face.

"Well that sounds great, Cas," Dean smirked, before continuing. "Did you watch anything else?"

"Well," Cas hummed. "I was going to watch this show called 'The Mandalorian', but I figured you'd want to watch it because it's Star Wars, so I decided against it."

Dean closed his eyes, sighing. "You didn't have to do that, Cas, but thank you," Cas was about to argue but closed his mouth almost immediately. "So, whatcha watchin' now?"

Cas started to fidget, twiddling his thumbs. "It's a musical called Hamilton, and many people have been talking about it. It follows the story of one of the Founding Fathers, Alexander Hamilton."

"Huh. The things people come up with," Dean thought out loud.

"Yeah, would you like to watch it with me?" Cas gave him the look that melted his heart. The one where you can't say no, but not this time. No way in hell is he gonna watch a musical, let alone it being hip-hop.

"Eh, maybe another time, Cas," Dean sheepishly replied, sending Cas a lopsided grin. "I'm sure it's gonna be great, though."

Without a second thought, Dean pat Cas's shoulder and left the room. He hears Cas resume the show, and once again hears the blaring music, with people rapping and chanting 'Lafayette!'

¤

An hour or so has passed, and Cas is still glued to the TV.

Sighing, Dean pushes the door open, and as expected, finds Cas on the couch.

But something catches Dean's eye: Cas's shoulders are hunched and he seems tired.

"You're looking pretty tired, bud," Dean continued. "You should go to bed."

Dean doesn't hear a response, so he takes the chance to come closer. As he nears, he realizes that Cas is in fact not tired, but instead, is stifling sobs.

Oh.

Oh no.

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt77

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

Damian spent the next day with Marinette at the hotel. Chloe and Luka both had school and Mari needed someone to keep her calm before the meeting with the Justice League. Not to mention Damian did not want to be stuck in the apartment with Drake. When Hawkmoth was unmasked it created a lot of ripples that everyone was still reeling from. Françoise Dupont was one more casualty. Between the ongoing investigation that was happening because of what happened to Marinette and the fact that Hawkmoth’s son went there the school was shut down until they found new staff at the very least. Since Damian hadn’t transferred yet he was off until it went through.

“So how’s your family taking the announcement?” He figured she’d ask eventually but it had taken her three hours so he’d give her points for restraint.

“The same way they take everything. It’s just one more thing for them to make fun of and overanalyze.” He saw her expression go hard and when she spoke there was a dangerous edge to her voice.

“They’re making fun of your sexuality?” He actually shivered at her tone. This was why Batman himself was terrified of this tiny girl.

“No. More making jokes about me having a significant other at all. Apparently they all decided that if I was ever to show interest in someone it would definitely not be reciprocated. At the moment they seem to be debating whether I’m making the whole thing up or holding my boyfriend’s family hostage to get dates.” It was their usual nonsense and he was used to it. Marinette however looked ready to transform and go back to Gotham to ‘talk’ to them.

“You should tell them that’s not okay. You shouldn’t be so worried about dealing with them that you’re afraid of living your life.” Damian just scowled at her in annoyance.

“I’m not afraid of those idiots.” She rolled her eyes and sighed.

“I didn’t say you were. But how many times do you decide to not do something because you don’t want to deal with the fallout? How often do you debate whether it’s worth it to do something that actually makes you happy because you think they’ll give you shit for it? They need to know that’s not okay. You should be able to live your life without being concerned about what they’ll say or do.” That made sense, to a point anyway. When he really considered it he realized she was right. It never would have occurred to him to ask to go to an arts school because he didn’t want to listen to their comments. At the same time, it was how they acted with everyone in the family.

“They don’t just do it to me you know. They constantly harass each other just as much. I could just ignore it and not let it control my actions.” He hadn’t realized how much it did control his actions if he was being honest. That was one of the many things he’d learned about himself because of his friendship with Marinette. Not that he’d ever tell her that.

“That doesn’t make it alright. Just because they don’t discriminate in their stupidity doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be called out on it. Just like when I call you out for being an asshole.” He gave her a flat look but she just smiled at him. It was becoming harder to keep a straight face around her and he couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.

“Any idea what you’re going to say to the Justice League?” All else fails, redirect the conversation. Marinette grimaced at the question before blowing out an annoyed breath.

“I assume that Superman is going to start before I can get a word in edgewise so having an actual speech planned out is pointless. There’s only a few things I want to make clear. First that the ban to travel to Paris will be lifted at the end of the week in case of ‘loose ends’. Mainly I just want them to stew about the fact that they can’t do whatever they please.” Damian let out a snort of laughter at that. Given the way they’d all tried to descend on Paris the moment Hawkmoth’s capture hit the news he understood why she was doing it. They didn’t wait to confirm she had in fact caught the real villain and could have just been putting Paris at risk. “Second, that they still have absolutely no authority over the Miraculous themselves. Having Wonder Woman’s backing should help with that but I wouldn’t be surprised if one or more of them try to tell me to give them the Miraculous. And third, if any of them think tracking us down to take them is a good idea they’ll get the full force of the wrath the Kwami are capable of. Given that Plagg destroyed the dinosaurs in an ‘oops’ moment they should probably be worried about what he can do when angered.”

“As much as I would like to believe words will work, you may have to do another demonstration.” Marinette just nodded at him. She knew as well as he did that this wasn’t going to be easy. It was highly probable that they’d spend the next six months or so showing various members of the League that they needed to back off. Yet another reason for him to stay in Paris. Damian still didn’t understand why Marinette didn’t just ask him for the civilian identities of the heroes so she could deal with them herself. “Did you figure out which wheelchair you want to get? My father said he’d pay the difference if you need something out of your price range.”

“That’s a kind offer but I’m not struggling for money. My business has actually gotten even better since the fashion show. I might actually have to hire some people to make the clothing so I can concentrate on design if I don’t want to start turning people away. I’m also getting a lot of interest from clothing manufacturers about designing discount clothing to market to a broad audience. Honestly just doing one of those would likely have me set for life. I’m just glad I’m at the point where this won’t completely destroy my parents financially. While it’s nice to know they love me enough to sell the bakery and move somewhere that’s accessible to me I would never want them to have to.”

“Well if you need tips or names of people to help with that, Drake would be a good source. I know that you have Jagged stone but global manufacturing is different from music in a lot of ways. Wayne Enterprises deals with a lot more of the problems you’re likely to see.” She nodded thoughtfully before offering him a bright smile.

“Thanks, I might just do that. It’ll be helpful to talk to someone who knows the ins and outs of things. I was actually going to ask you since I have a feeling you know a lot more about your father’s business than you let on.” Damian just blinked at her for a moment before giving out a sigh and pulled out his phone to send her a list he’d put together. It was names and numbers of people in the company who could help her along with various laws, specifically intellectual copyright laws, and some other things to do with business. She just gave him another bright smile before she started drawing in her sketchbook again. He really wished he could figure out how she did that.

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[kurodachimagic]

Chocolate and Cherries - Chapter 3

Summary: When Adachi falls into the arms of a kind stranger his life changes for the better.

Rating: Pg 13

Tags/warnings: Fluff, getting together, au, Writer Adachi, Chef Kurosawa.

Word count: 6.2k

A/n: This story was written for the cherry magic mini bang! Thank you@hiwatari-art for inviting me to join! Had a lovely time working with you as always. Thank you to my other artist over on twitter guacagabs. The entire story is being posted right now.

Read on ao3

Adachi adapted to his new and strange life as a wizard fairly quickly. He realized that he just needed to take the morning train before rush hour and the night train after it to avoid most of the accidental mind-reading incidents. It cost him precious time out of his day, but he didn’t mind it as much when he gave in and started typing on his phone to put his best foot forward in maintaining his writing schedule. Some sacrifices needed to be made and such was life.

With his writer’s block under control, Adachi threw himself fully into his book. Every second that was not spent working or sleeping, he was writing or doing research for it. Days soon started to merge into each other, but that was completely fine in his opinion; as long as his book became a reality, he was willing to sacrifice his free time.

At some point during the following week, Adachi ran into Kurosawa while taking out the trash. He turned around and there he was, sporting a bright smile that was akin to familiar with how much they had been seeing each other. Then, something odd happened. Adachi felt blush rising to his cheeks as he stood so close to his neighbour that he could smell his cologne. He instinctively closed his eyes and inhaled that sweet aroma, a foreign feeling settling in his stomach. He wasn’t sure of what could have caused him to react like that, but he clearly needed to rest for a bit. Maybe so much work was giving him anxiety. He said a quick goodbye to Kurosawa and rushed back home.

The following day Adachi pressed the wrong button in the elevator and exited one floor below his own. Not noticing his mistake, he tried to open a door that looked just like his, only to jump back when it opened swiftly to reveal Kurosawa wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

Adachi choked on his own spit, his eyes unable to ignore the fact that Kurosawa was not wearing a T-shirt - or clothes at all for that matter - and that his hair was dripping onto his torso, the droplets continuing to travel down his body in a mesmerizing way.

“Hello!” Kurosawa smiled. “I think you got the wrong flat - unless you wanted to pay me a visit.”

“Uh, yeah,” Adachi said, his eyes finally meeting Kurosawa’s. Then, he noticed a familiar smell, perhaps vanilla and chocolate.

“Would you like to come in?” Kurosawa asked, setting his hand on the doorframe, his fingers softly brushing against Adachi’s.

Adachi suddenly felt as if he was inside of a movie, romantic music and all. He could see Kurosawa pulling him inside by the belt loops and kissing him deeply as he dropped his work bag to the floor. He moaned, letting himself be guided into the flat without breaking the kiss, the door shutting behind them just as the towel started to come undone on its own, revealing Kurosawa’s -

Adachi removed his hand from the door frame and blinked repeatedly. “I have to go, sorry!” He mumbled and ran the remaining flight of stairs leading up to his flat, before hurrying inside and locking the door. ‘What was that?’

That night Adachi paced so much around his flat, for a moment he considered the possibility of the floor just giving in and him falling straight into Kurosawa’s flat. Had those been Kurosawa’s thoughts or his own?

--

Ever since that night, Adachi’s thoughts and dreams were plagued by Kurosawa’s face and his naked torso. It was often some sort of fantasy where Kurosawa cooked for him and fed him wearing only an apron or coming up in only a towel, asking to use his shower as he bit his lip and ran his fingers through his hair.

After many nights of waking up with a start and drenched in sweat but awfully satisfied, Adachi had no choice but to start questioning his sexual orientation. Maybe there was an actual reason he had never felt the need to pursue a woman. To be sure of his conclusion, he would need to avoid Kurosawa until he had found a definitive answer.

--

Funnily enough, the more Adachi avoided any and all common areas in the building, the more he saw Kurosawa. His plan had a fundamental flaw: they lived in the same building and Kurosawa knew exactly how to find him.

Perhaps the reason he had never come knocking on his door was the fact that they saw each other fairly frequently - increasingly so, even - but now that Adachi had made the decision to avoid him, his neighbour just kept coming up under the most ludicrous pretences.

Sometimes he would come asking for cooking ingredients like milk or sugar, two other times he brought Adachi’s post up, one time he offered to take out his trash for him since he was on his way down. You see, the nice old lady living next door had laughed at Kurosawa’s demands and told Adachi that his neighbour was a professional chef and she knew for a fact that he always had cooking ingredients on hand because he did her shopping every day as well as bringing her food or cookies on occasion.

Adachi had blinked repeatedly, truly baffled by his behaviour but at the same time, he had started to look forward to their little meetings, especially now that there was no doubt that Kurosawa was purposely seeking him out - and baking him cookies in the middle of the night.

He’d narrowed his eyes but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he took advantage of this new source of information and asked about Kurosawa’s girlfriend, but after providing a short description, he found out that the woman in question was his sister. To his surprise, this made him feel absolutely gleeful; it brought such a huge smile to his face that he felt a bit flustered and after a quick thank you and a small bow, he ran back home.

He had flopped onto his bed and placed his arms behind head pondering about this new development. His reaction to finding that Kurosawa did not have a girlfriend, paired with all the dreams Adachi had had about him, had made him realize that he was interested in him, as a person, as a friend, and as everything the other was willing to give him. The problem was that Adachi had no romantic experience at all and the sole thought of going in search of Kurosawa had made him feel sick to his stomach, so he’d decided to wait for the perfect opportunity. That day came two weeks later.

A Friday night, barely past midnight, Kurosawa knocked on his door, once again, with a box quite similar to the one he had received before.

“Hi,” Kurosawa said, biting his lip.

“Hello,” Adachi answered with a small smile. “What can I do for you, Kurosawa?”

“I hope it’s not too late. I wanted to ask you a huge favour.”

“No, of course not,” Adachi said, purposely placing his hand on the door frame, closer to Kurosawa’s. “What do you need?

As if they were magnets, Kurosawa rested his head against Adachi’s hand. “Would you try these cookies for me? I think this is the final version of my recipe.”

Adachi gasped. He could see how long Kurosawa had been working on the recipe, how nervous he was to get his approval, not only because he had inspired the cookies but because he trusted his opinion.

“Absolutely, I love cookies,” smiled.

The image changed before his eyes. Adachi sat on his sofa with a grin, Kurosawa straddled his legs and fed him bits of cookie, watching him raptly, asking if he liked them.

Deciding it was best to stop snooping in Kurosawa’s mind, Adachi removed his hand from the frame and took the box before walking in. “Come in, please. I’ll make us tea.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Kurosawa walked in, set the box on the coffee table and looked around curiously. He grabbed a cookie before coming to stand beside Adachi, watching him fill the kettle and move around the kitchen.

“What?” Adachi asked, feeling Kurosawa’s eyes burning holes through him.

“What?” Kurosawa said in the same exact tone.

Adachi blushed and focused his eyes on his tea set. “You are looking at me weirdly!?”

“Oh,” Kurosawa laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s just - would you mind trying the first cookie without the tea? It could change the flavour profile.”

“Oh. Of course!” Adachi said, extending his hand to grab the cookie but Kurosawa was having none of it. Instead, he held the cookie to Adachi’s lips, waiting for him to just take a small bite.

With a resigned sigh, Adachi bit into a cookie and moaned as a bit of cherry exploded inside his mouth adding a touch of tartness to the chocolate. He didn’t really realize what he had done until he saw Kurosawa’s eyes widen.

“Is it that good?”

“Yes,” Adachi said, trying to regain his composure. “These are the best cookies I’ve ever tried. I could eat them every day for the rest of my life.”

“I’m glad you like them. I created this recipe thinking of you.”

“Really?” Adachi asked, already knowing the answer.

Kurosawa simply nodded.

Adachi closed his eyes trying to find the courage needed for what he was about to do. “I wanted to talk to you,” he finally said.

“Oh?”

“I know why you keep coming,” Adachi said as he stepped closer to him.

“Why?” Kurosawa asked, taking another step forward, his lips almost brushing against Adachi’s.

Adachi looked at his lips and closed the distance between them, surprising even himself with his boldness. He felt Kurosawa’s hand on his arm, grounding him.

Suddenly, they were standing in the kitchen, cooking together, wearing matching rings. Then, they were walking under the moonlight with sakura petals falling over them. The image changed again and this time, they were standing at the altar, Kurosawa giving him a lopsided smile as he said “I do.” The scene rapidly changed, Kurosawa picked him up and threw him into their bed effortlessly before crawling over him, kissing him, slowly removing his clothes one by one until -

Adachi gasped and stepped back, bringing a hand to his lips, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. Then, he smiled realizing how right that felt even if their lips had barely touched.

Kurosawa’s usual smile deepened as he pulled Adachi close for a proper kiss; the first of many.

[witcherarcanathings]

When You’re Gone - An Asra Lucio x Female Reader Angst part 3

Part One (Lemon), Part Two, Part Four, Part Five

(Okay so, the reason I took so long writing this is because I was projecting myself onto MC, and writing a story that was too similar to something I recently went through. I was having trouble completing the story line, because my own story was unresolved. So here you go.)

Second submission for The Terrifying Ten challenge posted by @vesuviannights​ 

Smut (under the cut), Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Asra could almost feel you slipping away from him as the days went by. But he couldn’t help it, he had to go. He thought you understood that.

It hurt him that he had to ask others about you just to find out how you were. You’d gotten upset with him before, but this was different.

Since that day at the fountain, he had sent several letters, and all of them had gone unanswered.

As a gentle wind blew across his soft white curls, he sat cross legged on the grassy mountain path several hundred leagues from Vesuvia and silenced himself sending his consciousness out to search for you. 

It took several moments before he saw you, your back turned to him as you gazed into the palace’s reflection pool. Although Asra longed to see your face, he daren’t get too close. He knew if you sensed him, you’d push him away again, and he couldn’t bear another rejection. Silently he watched you burning bits of paper and then scattering the ashes into the water. It only took him  a moment to realize what they were: his letters. Angry and upset he broke the connection, resolved to hurry home and make things right.

You spent your time at the palace burying yourself in work, attempting  to put Asra in the back of your mind. You thought the busier you are, the less time you have for your thoughts to drift to the smell of fresh brewed tea, flowers blooming in the sunlight, violet eyes and a warm smile welcoming you home after a long day.

“Shit,” you curse. You were doing it again. It was so easy to remember the parts of Asra you loved, and even easier to forget the parts of him that caused you so much grief.

With a bundle of his recent letters in your hand, you lay lazily along the reflection pool, burning each one as you read them. When the first one came, you were happy your heart thrumming with the possibility of his return only to be disappointed when you realized it wasn’t. 

More letters came, but you were still too angry to answer. Too hurt. 

Every so often couriers would arrive with messages from Asra. When you hadn’t responded, his letters increased.

“Love, I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset with me. I’ll be back soon.”

“ I hope your doing well. Faust says you’ve been working hard at the palace. Please take care of yourself.”

" The sunsets here are really beautiful here. They make me think of you.”

“Please answer my letters, dearest. I miss you.”

And the final,

“Please.”

The worst part of it was the guilt you felt at not answering. But you just couldn’t now. Deep down you believed you never would. 

Sitting in the garden, you burned his latest plea in the palm of your hand, scattering the ashes to the wind as you sat staring at one of the lilies in the reflecting pool, studying the dragonfly resting on the soft pink petals. The white marble felt cool against your skin as you sat with legs folded along the edge.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the sound of footsteps behind you, or the glint of a golden arm reflecting in the gentle waters.

“Still brooding over your master?” Lucio broke in as he leaned casually against a nearby column.

 You scatter the last bit of ashes out of your palm before turning to face him. “Is there something I can assist you with, Count?” you ask, your tone conveying that you’d wish to be left alone.

A charming grin graced Lucio’s face, his twinkling eyes meeting yours. “Help me? No my dear, sweet magician, I was thinking maybe I could help you.” he answered.

“I’d be interested in knowing how,” you retort,  a laugh catching in your throat. “The only way I’ve seen you solve problems is by throwing money at it.” It was a joke, but it did have some truth in it. Lucio had changed much since he’d made and broke his deal with the devil, but there were still parts of him that would always remain the same.

“Well in a way, that’s what I am doing,” he continued as he stepped closer to you. ”Starting with paying the five coin citation for throwing litter in my pool.” he teased, offering you his right arm to help you up. “And lastly, by giving you this.” He uncoils an invitation placing it before you. “There’ll be a party tonight. I’ll take your attendance as repayment for the fine.” he said smiling.

You’re up on your feet in an instant as he gives you a moment to smooth out your clothes.

“I think I’ll pay the 5 gold.” you quip.

Lucio’s throaty and genuine laughs fill your ears as his hand closed the invitation into your palm. “You’re always so funny, my dear,” He sighed, “Be there at 8 o’clock. Don’t be late.” there was a bit of urgency in that he quickly covered with a confident smile as he squeezed your arm.

“I won’t be.” You say, your tone a bit more serious than you meant it to be.

 “Don’t be so grim! It’s a party not, a death sentence.” Lucio coaxed.

“One never knows when it comes to your parties, Lucio.” you shrug as you glance at the ornate invitation.

“Oh you’ve got nothing to worry about, I swear you’ll have the time of your life! You might even meet someone new.” He winked before turning to leave you standing in the garden with the invitation in your hand. “See you at 8.”

Looking at the invitation, you noticed something curious. 

“Lucio,” you shake the invitation in the air. “This says seven!”

The count turns, his smile as wistful and mysterious as the answer he gives you. “I know.”

Confused, you watch his proud and confident gait as he walks away.

Lucio had been hunting you the moment he heard you and Asra were done with.

Well, that's not exactly how Portia had put it: during their weekly card game she had let slip that you two were going through some ‘issues’. Whatever that meant.  For Lucio he decided it meant that Asra was gone and now Lucio finally a shot with you.

Tonight's party was all a part of his elaborate plan to woo you. He had made sure the food, the music, everything would be to your liking.

As he dressed for the evening, he thought about exactly what he would say, what he would do to make sure you were his tonight. Sitting in front of his vanity with his legs crossed, he made sure his eyeliner was as sharp and dramatic, with just a bit of a silver dusting that you remarked at his last party really brought out the silver in his eyes. He’d worn it many times since then, hoping to catch your eye, but so far he’d hadn’t received further comment.

 He wanted his makeup to be perfect, for it to draw you into his eyes and never look away. Applying the finishing touches, he looked himself over appraisingly. There was no way you wouldn’t want a piece of him.

When you get to your room, there's several boxes on the bed, wrapped in gold foil and tied with red ribbons. You read the tag on the largest package, already knowing who it’s from. "Compliments of his highness count Lucio" 

Sighing you opened the box. Not only did you have to go to a party, you had to wear some faddy costume that was-

Your last thought was stolen away from you as push away the white tissue paper to reveal the most beautiful gown you've ever seen: midnight blue, with twinkling moons and stars. Lucio knew your tastes well. Smiling, you walked over to the mirror and pressed the dress against you, swaying as you imagine how you’d look tonight. Ah, it was stunning - just looking at it made you feel beautiful as the first flutterings of happiness radiate within you.

At seven o’clock you’re surrounded by glittering lights and elegant guests dressed up in their finest. Heads turned as you entered the ballroom. You’d gotten used to it by now, your appointment as royal magician gave you some status. It wasn’t unusual for you to garner attention. But you knew it was more than your court appointment that had them staring. No, it was the fact that as you crossed the ballroom floor you looked like the queen of heaven.

 It wasn’t long before you were asked to dance by a visiting dignitary, and as you dance you tried to forget the longing in your heart. As the music played your mind wandered, and your body moved with practiced steps and gentle nods as your partner blathered on about some important business deal before he asked ‘wouldn’t you like to come sailing on my yacht this weekend?” You shook your head no, bowing low to excuse yourself. You needed a drink. 

Leaning against the wall, you relaxed as you drank and watched the other guests. Normally, you wouldn’t mind one of Lucio’s parties. They were always wonderful, and to be honest you needed a break. But tonight, all the glitz and glam seemed to fall flat. Being a wallflower was more familiar to you, and you were glad hardly anyone noticed you. Everyone except the count. Although he hadn’t said a word to you the entire evening, he’d been watching. You looked exactly as he envisioned as you entered the ballroom. He watched as you initially looked around and got your bearings. When he saw you noticing the flowers, he smiled exactly when you did in the exact same way. He watched you ferret out an empty table to sit at before you were asked to dance. And then laughed when you rebuffed their advances. “Nice try pal, but she’s taken. I’ve got her all figured out.” He muttered to himself.  After your fourth dance partner, he watched as you quietly excused yourself and grabbed a drink. Now was his chance. “See to everything, will you Valerius? I’m going to check on our guest of honor.” he said with a tap to the Consul’s shoulder. 

Although you’ve stopped dancing, you find your heart racing the closer it gets to 8 o’clock.Your eyes occasionally look up at the large golden clock on the far side of the ballroom, and although it’s silly you can’t help but wonder why Lucio said he would see you at eight. He was there when you arrived, but something about the smile he gave you told you he was up to something.

Anticipation builds, and your heart continues to race until the clock strikes eight and you feel yourself releasing the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

But you soon learn that you relaxed too soon, as a cool metal arm slips into yours and you find yourself side by side with Lucio.

“Enjoying the party?” Lucio purrs. 

“Yes its-” 

“You don’t have to lie.” Lucio interrupts. “It’s Asra isn’t it? Pity even all this isn’t enough to distract you from your heartache.” He says waving an arm to the extravagant celebration going on around you.

You sighed in defeat, hoping that it wasn’t that obvious. “I’m sorry, Lucio. Everything’s wonderful and I’m glad I came it’s just-”

Lucio brought a finger to your lips to silence you.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” His low, wistful voice interrupted. “Don’t worry I have something else that might help.” He nods his head forward, and after giving him a skeptical look you let him lead you through the ballroom, curious as to what he had in mind.

With a straight backed, regal stride he guides you somewhat further away from the crowd to one of the ornate tapestries hanging along the ballroom walls. He takes a quick look around before peeling back the tapestry and motioning at you. “Come on, hurry up before anyone sees.” he urges, his golden arm gently ushering you in.

It’s dark but as your eyes adjust you can see you’re in an alcove behind the tapestry.

“So this is what you wanted to show me?” you scoff. “There’s nothing here but a blank wall.”

With an impish grin, Lucio leaned in to whisper in your ear. “No, pet. This is what I wanted to show you.”

Without warning his lips crash onto yours, teeth gnashing on teeth, a bit bloody as he bites your lip. His kiss leaves you gasping and breathless as he pulls you in, his tongue slipping into you mouth as your lips part.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll never think about that magician again,” Lucio growls.

And that’s what you want isn’t it? To finally forget? No more tea leaves, and the smell of rain or moonlit nights sprawled out on the rooftop.

Now it’s fire and soft fur, the sweet musky smell of roses in the summer sun, and the promise of living deliciously as your hands explore the smooth, superior muscles of his chest. Your fingers tangle in the golden curls as along his pectorals, as your own dress is pushed down to your waist, the shoulder of your dress now snug against your elbows as Lucio cups your breasts, rolling them beneath his coarse, practiced fingers as you keen into his every touch.

"Lucio...Lucio," you whisper as he ravishes your body, his feverish kisses covering your neck and chest, before his canines ghost around your areola, making you shiver. 

"You like that, doll?" He groans as his tongue circles your nipples.

"Y-Yes" your voice shakes while his deft tongue strokes over you again. The fingers of his flesh hand find his way to the folds of your sex, teasing you and touching everywhere except your aching clit.

Impatient, you push his hand to where you want him, but he holds firm, nipping your neck in warning. 

"Not yet, kitten. Daddy wants to play first." 

Teasing your entrance with his fingers Lucio chuckles at hearing needy whines leaving your lips. He slips one, and then two fingers in, growling low at the wetness slicking your thighs and the noises you make for him. Bracing his shoulders, you arch up into his touch,his fingers pumping into you as he devilishly ignores your aching clit. 

“Lucio, please…” You let out a deep frustrated moan,as you rock into his hand. 

“Shh…” Lucio whispers, “Try to stay quiet. At least until we’re alone.”

 He'd pictured making you come undone so many times, and he wanted to savor every moment as he studied your soft features. With your back pressed against the alcove and nothing but a tapestry keeping you from being seen you nod silently, biting your lip as Lucio curls his fingers into you and his thumb flicks across your clit.

“Touch me,” Lucio groans as he grinds against you, pushing you further against the wall. You can feel how hard he is as you palm him through his clothes, making him hiss. 

“Again Lucio," You breathe as you undo his pants, his proud cock presenting itself into your hands, “Tell me again.”

He begs you to touch him, before you start stroking his cock in time with the movements of his fingers inside you and watch him unravel under your touch. This way of making love was different from Asra’s - it was so fervent and needy. Lucio's whimpering, hips thrusting into your touch as you stroke him. “Good...it’s too good,” he growls, his lips never leaving yours. It doesn’t take long for his stuttering thrusts turn into raw unsteady breaths, and those breaths into muffled, masculine groans.

The noise of the party is just outside the rich purple and gold tapestry that created a secret world of passion under its shadow occupied by only you and your Count, his low, distinct voice a heady whisper in you ear.  

 "Please... please let me fuck you my beautiful Magician."

You open your legs in silent approval and with one quick movement he's inside of you. Humping away like a desperate animal. 

"Thank you thank you thank you," he whimpers as he fucks into you murmuring praises and sweet promises."so good, so beautiful."

"Lucio...please. more." You sigh arching up into him.

"Yes, pet. Anything you want. Always what you want" he groans as he fucks harder,

Moving his arms around your body, he brings you close to his chest. His hips slam into you, causing you to bite into his shoulder to muffle your cry at the feeling of his wide head hitting your g-spot. 

“I want you so much, you’re all I fucking think about.” 

He comes, silent and intense as your own orgasm finds you. 

Hurriedly Lucio pulls out of you, quickly helping you dress before arranging his own clothing.

"Follow me, quickly." He growls, his arm locking around your waist as he leads you both from under the tapestry and into the crowd of the ball room. You can only hope you've put your clothing back where it should be. You squeeze your inner muscles tightly when you feel his seed starting to slip out of you, and you blush at the lewdness of it.

Thankfully the bustle around the palace has died down and the corridors are silent as you both made your way to Lucio’s wing. His room was dark and cold when you entered it, and he cursed the servants for their superstitious nature. Although several years have passed since his return, the staff still feared entering his wing.

"Hold on Lucio, I've got it." With a flick of your wrist a roaring fire appears in the fireplace, and you smile in satisfaction.

A blur of white rushes you and in moments you're in Lucio’s bed, naked and breathless as he trails kisses over every inch of your skin. Making you writhe and moan on his fingers once more.

Smirking he removes his fingers, licking them clean while you whine disappointment. You are not empty for long. His cock is nudging at your entrance and you push back onto him, feeling the tip slip in.

“I’m the one giving you all you need. I want you to be mine.” he growls, “Forget Asra, Forget everything else except me.”

He slides into you, pressing a low purr out of you as he bottoms out. His eyes are focused on his length buried inside of you, as Lucio enjoys the mewl leaving your lips.

“Please…”

Gripping your waist Lucio starts moving. He’s sliding slowly in and out of you, letting you savor the feeling of his cock stretching your walls.  Nothing is rushed, but no time is wasted in his lovemaking. 

Hands fisting the sheets, mouth hanging open you cry out in pleasure when he starts dragging you onto his cock with every powerful thrust.  His golden claw digs into your hips, cutting into the skin as he claims you. It’s a slow and desperate burn as the two of you collide.

Lucio watches your reaction when he starts moving faster, going harder to make sure you will fall over the edge once more. He loves the way you lose control when you come, totally falling apart for him.

A lovely and breathless silence fills his chambers as the two of you lay in post coital bliss.

It lays unbroken until you feel him leaving the bed, and your heart sinks. Of course you’re just a one night stand. It was foolish to think any different.

“Please don’t...don’t leave.” Your hand reaches out for him, your eyes clouded with building tears.

You hear a quiet sigh as his fingers slip into yours. “I’m not going anywhere pet,” he soothes. “I’ll stay forever if that’s what you want. I just need to take this off before bed. I’ll tear up the sheets in my sleep if I don’t.”

With one practiced motion he removes his alchemical arm, placing it on the nightstand before returning to your side. With his right arm, he pulls you against his chest before you slide the covers over both of you.

Sleep finds you soft and warm as Lucio holds you. The last thing you see before you close your eyes is his gentle dreamy smile.

The morning afterwards, it feels strange waking up next to someone after spending nearly a month alone.

Even when he isn’t traveling, Asra's usually gone when you wake up--either downstairs working in the shop, trading in the marketplace, visiting the palace or just plain gone. The last time you remember waking up next to someone was your birthday. Asra stayed that day.

But Lucio didn't need a special reason to stay. You were it. "I'll stay forever if you want me to." You remember him saying. The words pulled at your soul, and it felt good even if it wasn't from the person you wanted it from. 

Your newfound desire for the count was a strange feeling that worried you. Suddenly you were panicking, and you began questioning yourself. ‘Oh gods,’ you whisper, careful not to wake the man sleeping next to you. 

 Silently, you slipped out of his bed, white silk sheets slipping away from you as your feet hit the marble floor. Dressing quickly, you stuck your head out the door to peek down the hallway. 

Thankful the coast was clear, and with one final look behind you, you leave-your steps brisk and light as you made your way down the hallway and back to your room, chest pounding as you wondered if last night was a good decision, searching for meaning in every act, every word that was said.

Thank you for reading, and as always your comments are always appreciated! 

P.S. Sorry I didn’t tag anyone who asked. Frankly I have no organizational skills, and my memory is terrible. Please forgive me.

[helpinghanikan]

Carol Danvers A-Z

NSFW A-Z head-cannons 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

She’s like a kitten who just found a scratching post. Sliding up against your back, scratching and kneading without rhyme or reason. Not even your hair was safe; nuzzling her nose into your hair and humming deeply.

With absolute control over her powers her hands are warm, just below hot. It’s like a hot stone massage that can press harder and sharper into areas. Really anywhere that Carol can reach, is warm.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you: your ears. She’s a nuzzler. At any given chance she’ll lean into your neck, nipping under your ears before lightly biting at a lobe. Even sitting side by side with her arm over you shoulders she toys without thinking. Lightly running over the shell of your ear, tucking hair behind it.

On herself: her breasts. They’re an assent constantly strapped or tied down for missions and traveling. Having just a second without a restraint, or even a regular bra, is one of the small treasures in her life. Your hands cupping them, massaging them, even holding them while in sleep was an entire experience all together.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

The first time you were together Carol almost burned you alive. You could feel her heat growing and growing during the entire thing. It was watching a kaleidoscope being created right before your eyes.  

This is the closest you’ll ever get to seeing a star close up. Her throwing back with a loose open mouth. Blonde hair now a mix of red, blue and yellow filling the dark room with light. It was so beautiful that you didn’t notice your hands were red and starting to blister.

Her face snapped back to reality after reaching her peak. The colors disappearing like they were never there to begin with. In her defense, it had been awhile.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Although she hasn’t needed one for a while; but the idea of making love (not fucking, making love) in the pilot’s seat of an old school jet has always been on the top list.

If it were regular fucking then it would have just been revenge on those who looked down her before. But gong slow, making it last, in that jet would be a connection between her past and present. Coming together in your beautiful groans and kisses.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

For the last several years Carol’s experience came from the species on Hala. The Alien species and humans are close enough that her experience could be transferred onto you. Although there have been times when she would forget you were human. Her fingers becoming little spears inside of you.

F = Favorite Position 

Her strength is something you should never question, but at first glance this is not the case. She likes having you above her. No matter how many times she encourages you up, there is a little game of seduction she has to do. It was part of the fun from being with you, like getting through the wrapping of a present.

“Come here, come here, baby. I want you; I want you here.” She whispers, a hand holding yours while the other lightly patted her thighs. Or she’d pull back until she lying flat, gently pulling you forward.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

There’s a whole other side of Carol that comes out when alone with you. The smiley, giggly side that rubs your noses together after kissing. Tickling you when there was a lull and even lifting your weight up and over her shoulder.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

All of her hair is as blonde as the top of her head. As she usually wears pants (even shorts are a rarity) trimming down there has never been a focus. Only when it seems to get in the way does she bother with it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

When the tickling and giggling is over Carol looks down at you. A gentle hand running through your hair, and a slight smile on her face. These quiet, passionate moments last only seconds before continuing on. Jokingly biting your neck or taking you into a deep kiss.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Finishing herself off is the safer option. Although Carol can mostly control her powers when cumming there’s still a danger to you. Like holding the bottom of burning paper, feeling the fire getting closer and closer until it burns.

That being said, she’d rather be with you. Just having to use half of her brain to control the powers, while the other is focused on you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

A little stroll through tags gave you this idea. Stepping up behind Carol at a desk. Wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her cheek. She leans back into you without thinking, a hand coming up to caress your head.

“Hey, Mommy,” You whispered in her ear.

At first she had laughed it off. But it had stuck with her after that. The next time she was pressed against your back, hands just happening to hold your breasts, she whispered in your ear. “Will you be good for Mommy?”

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

The best location was anywhere that had sturdy walls and no obstructions. More than once someone saw the lights in the windows and became curious. Only to be blinded by the hateful glare of a protective woman.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Flying, whether in a ship or from her own powers, nothing gets her going like the skies. The feeling of her stomach dropping with gravity, and the almost high she gets when reaching a limit normal humans could never.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Threesomes. So many jokes have been made by douches about “joining you ladies” that it’s put a poor taste in her mouth.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Out of fear for your safety she has only gone down on you.

As her last few partners were alien there have been awkward moments. Watching down between your legs while she seems to try her best. Only for the both of you to start laughing when she realizes. “Right, you don’t have that.” She says, finding the right area, turning the laughs into almost cries of pleasure.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

When focused on you she goes slowly. Toying and teasing you with a kind of vigor that can only be made by her one minded goal of your pleasure.

When focused on herself it’s always after your done. Going quickly, almost too fast, to reach a point that send her head back and hair everywhere. Her groans coming from a place of pleasure and frustration as she couldn’t full let go.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Usually happening after she flies, a battle or otherwise. Although she would prefer to have proper sex a firm grip on your hand, and the nearest dark area in the hanger, would have to do.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Fucking Captain Marvel is a risk all on its own. But she’s always willing to mix it up a little. Most of the experimenting was something she could do with her own hands. Holding you down or lifting you right off her feet without a second thought or blink.

When you suggest something she sits back and smiles that smile. As if challenging you to be the restrainer in the relationship. But she will let you try. Wiggling her fingers when you handcuffed her hands to the bed. The metal melting as she giggled at your expression.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

She has the strength and stamina to last for literal hours. Although she can only last one round herself before her eyes start to droop she can handle herself. Long enough to make sure that you don’t.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Although her fingers are the first choice, a small red vibrator has been added to your lovemaking. Restraints were sometimes used but they usually end up breaking. Carol wanting to show off her strength on the poor, fragile, fuzzy handcuffs.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Both the best and worst thing you’ve ever done was teach Carol about texting. At first it was just a way to communicate, now it was an almost constant stream of texts about what Carol wants to (and will) do to you.

When it came down to the deed she was just as bad. Touching and toying with you before any clothes were removed. It’s only you start to beg that she goes any further.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

A select few are privileged enough to hear the sounds Carol makes in the moment. Surprisingly high-pitched sounds that are brought out with the heat her body exudes.

Sometimes her lips are cut or swollen from biting down on them. This was how you could get revenge for the teasing. Just lightly bite your own lip while making eye-contact and she suppresses a smile, shaking her head away from you.

W = Wild Card (Get a random head-canon for the character of your choice)

Jealousy is something that she has to work on. Protection is in her nature, and aggressive protection has been pounded into her head from year and years of training a living.

Men or women are all a threat to her. Whether it’s an arm around your shoulders or someone pressing against you to reach something (obviously they had to completely press their hips into yours, obviously) there’s a low burn within her.

Although this has saved you from several (reaching guy has learned to reach) it has also become a slight annoyance. What’s worse than a white knight? A white knight that you’re dating.

X = X-Ray 

When the focus is almost entirely on you there’s little chance when that you get to touch her. When you do she’s always warm and receptive to your touches. Sometimes covering her mouth like a high school girl and looking away from you.

It’s the few times you can feel powerful against her. Something that she is sure to take back by tenfold.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Unless there was a battle or a particularly exciting flight she isn’t always on the lookout for open moments. She’s a busy woman, getting it on once every few days is good enough for her.

It’s only when she’s away from you for a long amount of time that her drive is pushed into high gear. Able to keep it cool until she gets you alone.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She goes down like a rock after finishing. From suppressing her powers, being overwhelmed from feeling, and just the sex itself is like a sedative right to her core.

She lays down next to you. Blinking slowly as she tries to stay awake long enough to make sure you’re good. She tries to stay awake longer then you, but always fails.

[eldritchteaparty]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Rosie Zampano Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, I'll add characters and tags as they come up, Reference to injuries and blood, Character Death In Dream, Nudity (not sexual or graphic), Nightmares

Summary: Following the events of MAG 200, Jon and Martin find themselves in a dimension very much like the one they came from--with second chances and more time.

Chapter summary: Martin and Jon go "home" to clean up, recover, and decide what to do next.

Read on AO3 above or read here below!

Tumblr master post with links to previous chapters here

***

They made it to the flat without much trouble. It was within easy walking distance, an unimpressive one-bedroom, virtually interchangeable with anywhere Jon had ever lived. It was also just as stark, but they didn’t waste time looking around. Instead, they headed straight to the bathroom. Being clean was the only thing Martin wanted more than sleep.

He got a look at himself in the mirror for the first time. Beneath the layer of dirt and blood and whatever else that he’d expected, he noticed a dark red mark on his skin, peeking just above the neck of his jumper. He pulled down at the collar, trying to get a better look at the apparent injury, but the full line of it extended well below where he could reach without taking it off. He recalled how the shirt he’d removed earlier had been torn and bloody around the shoulder, but at the time he’d just assumed that was from Jon.

He turned on the water in the shower to let it get hot, and left Jon to undress on his own as he steeled himself for whatever he was about to find. He pulled the jumper up over his head and was finally able to view the whole thing. It was completely healed, of course, but it ran from the top of his chest back over his collar bone and partway down the right side of his back. Parts of it were smooth and barely noticeable, but there were a few parts where it looked like the skin had been torn wide open—jagged edges that had healed poorly, like they had been stitched back together without being lined up properly.

He was so engrossed in it that he startled when Jon touched his shoulder.

“Hey.” He started to turn toward him, but Jon stopped him.

“You should—here.” Jon ran a hand down Martin’s arm to a spot on his forearm, just below his elbow, where he felt around for a moment. “Right there.”

Martin touched the spot, and found a small, hard ridge that stood out from the bone. He didn’t remember that, and it didn’t match the same place on his other arm.

“What—what is that?”

“It… broke.” Jon met his eyes in the mirror. “Before we came here. I’m sorry. It was a clean break, though. Also… here.”

He touched another spot on Martin’s back, which he turned to see, craning his neck to get a good look at it in his reflection. It was another scar, left over from what would have been a very large, deep gash, about halfway down his spine.

“Wait.” Martin took Jon by the shoulders; there was no way Jon had escaped undamaged if he looked that bad. He inspected his chest, his neck, then turned him firmly to look at his back, which Jon tolerated reasonably well—better than Martin would have given him credit for, anyway. Beyond the scars he already knew about, he only found evidence of a few smaller scratches, and wasn’t sure he believed it. He kept searching.

“Martin, I’m fine,” Jon sighed.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Martin pressed his hand pointedly to the stab wound on Jon’s chest.

“I meant”—Jon finally moved Martin’s hands away—“that I didn’t get hit when the tower went down.”

“How?” Martin asked. “I mean, look at me. How is it even possible that you—”

“Because you wouldn’t let go.”

Oh.

Martin wasn’t used to finding out he’d done something right. Once he unfroze, he was so grateful that he ended up pulling Jon into him, which he almost never did when Jon wasn't dressed. Thankfully Jon welcomed it, and allowed himself to be held, even leaned into it. It felt nice to be so close, to feel Jon’s skin on his, to be relaxed and warm from the steam of the shower that had finally heated up. He could have stayed there like that for a long while, and under normal circumstances he would have insisted on it; this time, though, the need to wash up won out.

“You go first,” he told Jon as he pulled away. “I can wait.”

“Absolutely not. I don’t think we’ll stay awake long enough for that.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Oh, for god’s sake. It’s soap and water. No, I don’t mind.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to shower with Jon. He supposed part of him still wasn’t sure where the lines were, what would make Jon uncomfortable, although they had taken a bath together at Upton. Several, actually, just because they could. That had been a little different, though; they’d had a large garden tub and plenty of room. Plus, although he’d seemed happy enough about it at the time, he wasn’t sure Jon even remembered it.

If he’d understood what taking a functional shower together was going to be like, though, he wouldn’t have bothered worrying about it. First, there wasn’t enough room for two people to stand under the water at the same time; second, if the shower was at the right height and angle for him, it definitely wasn’t right for Jon, and vice versa. They only had one bar of soap between them, and there was a lot to scrub off. The water at the bottom of the tub ran almost black for the first few minutes. He was grateful to find that Jon was at least well enough to wash himself. Martin only helped a little with his hair because, well, he wanted to—plus it sped up his turn with the shampoo.

Martin would have been happy to go straight to sleep when they were done, but as soon as Jon sat on the bed his stomach interrupted with a noise that went well beyond a growl. “Right,” Martin said, pressing a hand to his forehead. He was still pretty hungry himself, and Jon hadn’t even finished the peaches. “You stay. I’ll go see what there is to eat.”

There wasn’t much in the cupboards, and Martin didn’t think it was possible to be hungry enough to try the fridge after two months, but he did find a couple of ready meals in the freezer that didn’t look too bad. He heated them up and returned to the bedroom to find Jon face down with his legs tucked up beneath him, head toward the foot of the bed, in what he assumed was a failed attempt to stay awake.

He did have to keep an eye on Jon while they ate, as he kept closing his eyes with the fork halfway up to his mouth, but was glad to see that his appetite was good. Finally, when they had eaten what they could, he set the trays aside and wrapped his arms tightly around Jon as they lay down. At least he didn’t have to worry about keeping him up.

The next few days were like a long fever dream. They did wake up occasionally, sometimes apart, sometimes together, for maybe an hour at a time. When they did, their top priority was more food. Martin managed to have groceries delivered, which he was quite proud of.

When they were able to accomplish anything, they left scrawled notes for each other on the single pad of paper they found on Jon’s desk. At one point, Jon completely emptied their bags of clothes again and came out with a second phone that had apparently belonged to Martin. That’s useful, Martin thought when he saw that particular note. There was another little scribble off to the side that looked like it read “wallet.” Probably also useful, Martin thought, shoveling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Mostly, though, they slept. The best was when they didn’t dream. When Martin closed his eyes and he woke up and time had passed and he felt a little bit less tired, and he could look at Jon breathing deeply or even snoring a little and he could close his eyes again—that was ideal.

When he dreamed, it was usually not too bad. It was different than it had been. He knew he’d had nightmares during the apocalypse, but he never remembered them; it was always Jon who told him about them later. Here, at least, the dreams were his, and he did remember them, sometimes. Sometimes they were the same ones he’d always had, meaningless, dreams about building things or walking aimlessly through empty hallways or even the one where he forgot to show up for an exam. Those were fine.

His bad dreams, though, were bad. He relived things he hadn’t wanted to live the first time. Endless webs he couldn’t escape, filthy with spiders, while Jon read statements he couldn’t understand; there was only that voice that had never quite belonged to him and never seemed right. Then they were back in Jude Perry’s domain and Jon was burning, Jon was literally on fire and he wouldn’t save himself and Martin was too terrified to go in and drag him out. He didn’t need an interpreter for that one.

Then there was the dream where he killed Jon again, only in the dream there was no here, no somewhere else; there was no together. There was only Jon bleeding out in his arms after his flesh and muscle gave way and the knife went in. There were only his dead eyes and hands that went cold so fast, and Martin screaming for him to come back, begging him, telling him how sorry he was. He screamed until he couldn’t anymore and there were only tears left, silent gasps for air, and he was clutching at the back of a corpse that used to be Jon and he was alone; all he could feel was dead hands on his body, and when he woke, he was pushing Jon aggressively away from himself. Even when he realized he’d been dreaming, all he could see was the mark on Jon’s chest that he’d put there and he couldn’t take it, he couldn’t breathe and he had to get out, he had to do anything but stay in that room and suffocate.

Just minutes later Jon, now in a t-shirt, came in to find him on the couch with his face in his hands. Softly, so he didn’t notice at first, Jon’s hands started at his waist and made their way up his back, to his shoulders and around his neck. The weight of Jon’s body on him was enough to stop the shaking after a few minutes, and get him to where he could lift his head and speak without his voice breaking.

“Go back to bed, Jon.”

“When you do.”

He stayed a little longer, trying to slow down and match his breathing to Jon’s, until Jon began to fall asleep on his shoulder.

“Jon. Go to bed.”

“No.”

He gave up and they went back to the bedroom together. He fought to stay awake at first, but when Jon crawled to him under the covers to rest against his chest, groggy, familiar, warm, he couldn’t help himself. He slept again.

That still wasn’t the worst, though—not for Martin. The worst was when Jon dreamed. When Jon woke up it was like Martin wasn’t there. He sat and stared and waited, sometimes for seconds, sometimes for minutes, before he finally saw Martin or felt his touch—and sometimes he simply went back to sleep, and it was like Martin was never there at all.

They were awake; they were looking at each other. Jon reached for Martin’s face. He didn’t exactly seem happy, but his expression held maybe a broken kind of gratitude.

It was enough.

Sometime later, still in bed, Martin asked Jon what they were going to do.

“I don’t know,” Jon answered.

“Well… what do you want to do?”

“I still don’t know,” Jon said, this time with a wry smile.

“Fine, I get it. Can I ask you something, then? About—where we are?”

Jon’s smile faded a little. “I probably won’t know that either.”

Martin sighed. “Look Jon, I’m sorry I used you like—like post-apocalyptic Google. You don’t have to know everything, all right? Sometimes it’s ok just to talk. Figure things out instead of—”

“It didn’t bother me. I liked knowing things.”

“You miss it.”

It wasn’t a question, but Jon answered nonetheless. “Yes.”

“All right. You said once that you—that you liked feeling people’s fear, too. Do you miss that also?”

Jon paused. “Was that what you were going to ask me?”

“No.”

“Then I think I won’t answer.”

“Fair enough.” Martin didn’t know why he’d asked, because he really didn’t want to know. “Here’s what I was going to ask. You said you thought that Elias was in charge of the Magnus Institute here because—well, because he was in our world. And also just the Institute itself, and Tim, and Sasha, and… why?”

Jon screwed up his face.

“And I get that you don’t know, I just want to hear your thoughts,” Martin added.

“All right,” Jon started. “It was more a feeling—”

“That’s fine.”

Jon gave him a look and Martin held up his hands in apology. “It was more a feeling, but… when we were pulled through, the web connected the dimensions, but they weren’t… open.”

“Like… knocking on locked doors.”

“Yes? Actually?”

Martin ignored the implications of Jon’s surprise at his understanding. “And this dimension?”

“I think they got desperate. They were running out of… strength? Energy? They were dying. They couldn’t go back, and this dimension was—adjacent to ours, maybe. Nearby. Not physically, obviously, that doesn’t mean anything—”

“Ok—”

“—_but _there were other connections, older ones, different from the web, the tape. And this dimension was connected to ours. They’ve probably pulled on each other, influenced each other, maybe from the beginning. Ours may have been especially strong because of—well, never mind, I don’t know. But it was easier for them, to come here. A refuge, I suppose.”

“That—that actually makes sense,” Martin said.

“Does it?”

“I mean, as much as anything. Let’s just say I’m willing to accept it?”

“As a theory,” Jon said firmly.

“Fine, as a theory.” Martin looked at Jon. “Did you really feel all that? I didn’t—I didn’t feel anything.”

“Who knows. Maybe it was all in my head.”

“I doubt it. I just feel bad I wasn’t really there with you.”

“You were, though.”

Martin let the silence linger for a few minutes before he pressed on.

“Jon, what… what do you think happened to the_ _Jon and Martin that were here before? Are they dead?”

“No idea.”

“I mean… it had to be because of us, right? It probably wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Probably not.”

Martin took a deep breath. “Do you think we—did we Helen them?”

“What?”

“You know—do you think we—did we trap them inside us somehow?”

“Like the distortion?”

“Yeah.”

“No. No, that’s something different. Something like that—that could only be done deliberately. And it would be awful. At any rate, we would feel it.” Jon seemed convinced of his answer, and it made Martin feel a little bit better. “But I do think… I do think we intersected with them, somehow.”

“Do you think… Is there any chance that they could come back?"

“Doubtful.” Jon shook his head. “But I—I don’t know.”

Martin accepted this, but wasn’t any closer to knowing how to feel about it. All he knew was it still made him extremely uncomfortable. It had been one thing to talk about theoretical Archivists and Martins and whatever else might exist in another dimension, but now…

“Can I ask something else?”

Jon shrugged.

“How did I get here?”

“What? You know how we got here, as much as I do.”

“I know how you got here. I’ve been thinking, and I know Annabelle”—he found he really disliked saying her name, even more than he thought he would—"said there was a chance she might be pulled along with the entities, if they left. Because—because she was—well, all web. Nothing else left.”

Martin paused, and Jon waited.

“So I don’t really want to think too much about what that means for you—I don’t—but I _get _it. But—how did I get here?”

Jon turned it over for a moment. “I took you with me.”

That answer was much too brief for Martin, so he pushed. “Ok, but—how? Could you have brought anyone? Like… could you have brought Basira?”

Jon laughed sharply, clearly not having anticipated the question. “No. No, just you.”

Martin sighed. “Ok, look, that’s real… _romantic _and all, but—how?”

Jon took so long to answer Martin thought maybe he wasn’t going to, but he finally did.

“Remember you told me that Annabelle said our bond was… complicated?”

“Yes?” Martin wondered immediately what Jon knew that he didn’t. This had I didn’t know how to tell you written all over it.

“And she talked about the Lonely.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t realize it at first, but when I… when I came after you, it… Look, Martin, the Lonely—it’s not—people aren’t supposed to be together there. That’s the whole point of it.”

“Sure.”

“Well, it did something. To us, I mean.”

“Like…?” Martin was trying his best to be patient, but he could tell that Jon was reading his irritation and starting to get flustered.

“To the entities we’re—we’re sort of—we’re the same.”

Martin saw through that explanation right away. “What you mean is that I’m an extension of you. A part of the all-mighty Archivist.”

“Well… yes. To them.”

“Great.” It made sense, though—how Martin had been able to go with Jon through all the domains, why the former archivists guarding the tower and the tunnels had left him alone, and of course, how he’d been able to come here. He turned on his back, crossing his arms over his chest, and allowed the smallest grumble to escape him.

“Martin, you know _I _don’t—”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Well, like I_ _said I didn’t realize it at first, and then—”

Martin turned his head toward Jon but kept his arms crossed, specifically to demonstrate how unimpressed he was.

“All right. All right, fine. I didn’t want you to think that was when I fell in love with you. Happy?”

Martin forgot to be annoyed. “What?”

“I didn’t want you to think—”

“No, I heard_ _you. Why would I have thought that?”

“Because we never—I never told you before the Lonely. I didn’t really—”

“Ok, Jon? I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m aware we’re a bit… messed up, but I know that you love me. Like, really love me. And I love you too.”

“I know, but… don’t think I’ve forgotten what you said, crises and trauma and all that.”

“Jon. I said that made us compatible. I didn’t say we don’t actually love each other, or that it was some kind of weird fear reflex.”

Jon opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again.

“Jesus.” Martin moved toward Jon, touching a hand to his shoulder. When Jon didn’t pull away, he moved closer again, taking him properly in his arms until he knew what he wanted to say.

“Jon—you asked me once if—well, no other way to say it—if I would gouge my eyes out and run away with you.”

“Oh, I remember.” Jon’s voice was muffled against Martin’s shoulder. “Although technically _you _were the one who said ‘gouge your eyes out,’ I would have settled for—”

“Yes, yes, all right—well, I would do it now.”

Jon stiffened.

“Or I mean, we could try it without blinding ourselves too, you know, test it out first? But the point is—we could leave. We could just go. Jon, you’ve—you’ve suffered enough. We don’t have to stay here. We can tell them whatever you want. Or we can tell them nothing. They’re smart, though, they’ll figure it out if it comes to it, and maybe—maybe nothing will happen, maybe there won’t be an apocalypse, maybe never. Maybe they’ll even figure out something we didn’t, some way to destroy—"

“Where would we go?” Jon interrupted softly.

“Anywhere. Back to Scotland, maybe. I could work in that little country store, and you could—I don’t know, you could do nothing if you didn’t want to, you could read all those books you told me you never got around to, there’s time now—”

“Martin—”

“Or we don’t have to go there! We could go—well we don’t have to decide right away, we could just travel for a bit—”

“Martin.”

Martin stopped.

“It sounds… lovely.”

“But you won’t do it.”

“No.”

He held Jon just a little tighter before letting him go. “I figured you’d say that. Thought it was worth a try, though.”

“It was worth a try.”

“So back to my original question—I guess we do know what comes next, then. Back to the Institute.”

“You don’t have to,” Jon said. “You could work somewhere else. Or not work. Or you could leave, I’d find a way to—”

Martin shook his head, then pressed his forehead against Jon’s. “You know the deal, and that’s not part of it.”

“I do,” Jon sighed.

They fell into silence again, this time for a long while.

[bangchanswolfpelt]

Im so ugly and lonely i just want yeonjun to fuck me

😤 hotness is a social construct, boo! 😤 i don’t know what you look like, but i do not need to know to know that you are the ideal of beauty for somebody out there!! 😤😤😤 the only thing that’s ugly here is the society that’s invested in making you think badly of yourself!!!! 😤😤😤😤👿

that being said, your feelings are totally valid. it is too easy to feel ugly in a world with horrifically narrow and often conflicting beauty standards, and easing loneliness is much more complicated than just finding someone who wants to bang you. :[ if it helps, just know that i am right here with you, also lonely and also fantasizing about getting railed by Yeonjun. and if THAT doesn’t help, just know that more Yeonjun-fucking is on the way.💕 (@muselin's also got some good shit for you rn, too💕💕💕)

((idk if you are actually interested in serious advice from a stranger on the internet, but if you are, i have some homework for you: 

i want you to think about why you are feeling ugly right now. it’s gonna suck, like poking at a bruise, but sometimes you have to prod at a hurt to figure out what’s wrong. (((i need you to be gentle with yourself, here, tho. do NOT use this as an excuse to be cruel to yourself, and do NOT do this if you think you're in a headspace where it will lead to you hurting yourself, physically or mentally. pain from pulling glass out of cut is not the same as pain from digging it in deeper.)))

do you feel ugly because you’re comparing yourself to people like idols and models and actors?

get away from looking at people who are literally being paid to be hot, because it is their actual full-time job to look good and comparing yourself to them is both unfair and unrealistic. they are devoting time and resources to looking good that no normal person has, and only have to maintain that for short periods of time.

also, maybe spend some of your kpop time looking at selfies/vlives from idols when they’re barefaced and unstyled—seeing them with flat, fried hair and no goddamn eyebrows is a really endearing and down-to-earth way of remembering that they’re just people, too, and that the photos and videos you compare yourself to are the result of hours of makeup and styling that disappear once performing/shooting/etc. is over.

do you feel ugly because you’re dissatisfied with your appearance? what about it is dissatisfying for you?

while it’s really important to try to love yourself for who/what you are, there’s also no shame in making changes to feel better.

are you unhappy with your body? maybe get up and do some gentle exercise—not because it will help you lose weight, but because being physically active is proven to help your mental health, and also thinking about how your body is capable of doing cool things like punches and kicks can make you feel more positively about it.

are you unhappy with the way your clothes look on your body? this one is a little harder, and will probably take some more long-term experimenting and also money, but think about what’s wrong with the way your clothes fit you. one small difference can make the way you feel about your appearance change drastically—a while back, i replaced all my bras with bras that actually fit and immediately felt less gross and lumpy, because with bras that fit, all the clothing that went over them fit better, too. don’t worry about fitting into what’s trendy right now, but don’t be afraid to use it as a jumping-off point to experiment; i spent over twenty years thinking that high-waisted clothes would just emphasize my squishy belly only to realize that because of the way my body is shaped, high-waisted stuff is actually really flattering on me.

do you feel like your body is something you don’t have any control over, like it’s something you feel alienated from? there’s a reason chopping/dying hair is such a post-breakup stereotype—it’s a way to assert control when you feel like you don’t have any. think about the things you can change that will make your body feel like it's more your own, think about the things you've always wanted to do. play around with cutting and dying your hair, maybe even shave it all off—hair grows back, have fun!! tattoos and piercings are more expensive and permanent, but i can tell you from experience—if they're something you really want, they're fuckin worth it. your body belongs to you and no one else, and sometimes having a visible reminder of that can help a lot.

also, this is gonna feel real dumb, but like—maybe just stand in front of a mirror and just think about how hot and fuckable you are. because i can guarantee, no matter what you look like, you are exactly as fuckable as you want to be. no matter what traits of yours society tries to make a joke of, there is always gonna be a sizable chunk of the world's population that thinks those traits are sexy as hell; the fact that i managed to spend a not-insignificant amount of time enjoying myself in the micropenis tag on AO3 is proof of that, i think.

these for sure aren’t big fixes, and i’m not even touching on stuff like body dysphoria/dysmorphia ((((would love some answers for those myself)))), but these are some the little things that have been helping me and i hope that maybe they can help you too, boo.))

[anythingandeverything1d]

Thank you, Next.

“(y/n) if you don't turn off your phone I will.” Your friends voice threatened. You had been receiving texts, DMs, and taggings non stop since Harry had taken his “new girl” to his red carpet premier. You didn’t want to see them anymore than your friend wanted to hear them, but you were waiting on a call..a call that would change everything for you, at least you hoped it would.

“You know I can’t.”

“I know but I wish you would.” she groaned and rolled over in bed to look at you. “You're lucky I love you. I wouldn't let anyone else’s phone drive me to madness like I would yours.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “I love you too. Now can we actually do something about this. What do I do?” 

“Just make a statement. Maybe that would help, you know something to shut everyone up. Something like back off I see his new bitch she's not even that pretty.”

“That is in no way helpful Lex.”

“I think it would be fantastic to see though.”

You threw a pillow over at her. “Okay but seriously. What does a break up post even say when I haven't talked to Harry and nor will I ever again. We aren't friends and I don't want to be either.”

“Knock knock.” Ash walked into the room and jumped on the bed, flinging the leftover popcorn from movie night everywhere. 

“ASHTON!” you yelled pushing his shoulder. He just laughed and high fived Lexi in response. 

“Whatcha cuties up to today?” Ash had been hanging around a lot more since Harry had ended things with you, which was surprising because he was more of Harry’s friend than yours. You weren't complaining though, he had helped a lot with getting over the break up and you even thought he might be falling for Lexi which she so desperately needed. 

“(y/n)’s about to write her statement on the break up with Harry so that her phone will hopefully stop making its dreadful sounds all day.”

“Ohh interesting.” he replied placing a pillow on Lexis lap and laying back on it while kicking his feet onto yours. “What do you have so far?”

“Nothinggg I don't even want to write this. It’s been what 3 months since we broke up...why even try now?” 2 months and 16 days actually but who was counting right?

“Hand over the phone cutie.” You placed the phone in his hands and tried to see what he was writing. Lexi was watching and laughing. This can't be good... “How about some Taylor Swift lyrics, we know how he feels about that. Ex’s unite right?” Ashton laughed at himself and I moaned a complaint. He handed the phone back, but instead of Taylor Swift, it had a different song. 

“Thank you, next? Really?” 

“Its simple. Makes a point. I like it. Lex?”

“Post it girl.” she held a thumbs up and you clicked send, forever ending your relationship with Harry Styles. After tweeting that you posted a pic of you, Ash, and Lexi tangled in the blankets of your bed and laughing to instagram with the same caption. You then turned the phone off, forgetting about the call you were waiting on, and forgetting about Harry. 

“What should we do now?” you asked looking at the other two.

“Bar?” Ashton asked wiggling his eyebrows. “I can invite the other guys too.”

“Ehh...” you contemplated. Going out was not on your mind, especially while waiting for the madness of everything to calm down. “Come on (Y/n)...It’ll be fun! Plus the boys will be there and so no one will actually have the chance to look at you.” Lexi smiled her devious smile and you rolled over giving in to the peer pressure. The two of you got dressed while Ashton called up the rest of his group, telling them to meet us at the bar in an hour. You may not have loved the idea of going out but you had to admit putting on make up and clothes made you feel like a person again. You looked good too. Maybe I’ll meet my husband tonight...or maybe I’ll get drunk..both are wins right? Your thoughts were interrupted by Ashton who loudly whistles as you and Lexi walked down the stairs.

“Wow...” He smiled and looked you both from top to bottom. “You clean up beautifully cuties.” He held out his arms and we each took one laughing as he led you to the car. 

At the bar you had definitely regretted your decision to come. Even with Ashton, Luke, Calum, and Michael surrounding you, people were asking questions, taking pictures, and pointing. You felt overwhelmed and stressed. Apparently your post had made the top trend on twitter and everyone wanted to talk about...except for you. “Lets dance” Luke said grabbing your hand and pulling you into the crowd of people. Luke was making you forget everything, he was purposefully dancing like a freak causing you to laugh so hard you had tears in your eyes. You looked over at Lexi and Ashton dancing together. Everything seemed normal again. You were letting yourself have fun. Luke pulled you closer as the song slowed and you rested your head on his shoulder, his hands on your waist. He tugged you closer and lowered his hands and you were okay with it.. you were maybe even enjoying it. Lukes lip went to your ear.. “wanna get a drink?” You nod your head and he grabs your hand pulling you to the bar. You had almost made it when another hand grabs you. You turn to push the hand off and stop dead. Your heart drops into your stomach and you instantly feel sick. Standing there was your green eyed angel wearing his famous black skinny jeans and a blue floral shirt. A mixture of emotions clouded his face but when he looked at you his mouth quirked up into a soft smile, revealing the dimples that made any girl go weak in the knees. Luke turned and steps in front of you. “Harry. What are you doing here?”

“Funny. I could ask you the same thing.” He hadn't dropped your hand yet and people were starting to notice the scene, including Lexi and Ash who had rushed over. Lexi grabbed your hand Ash pushed Harry back a step.

“Harry, man. Calm down.” Ash said with his hands out in front of him.

“Don’t tell me to calm down Ashton.” Harry shoved Ash hard. “Don’t ever tell me to calm down, especially when you have your hands on my girl and you've been sleeping in her bed.” Ash looked from Harry to you and laughed.

“Your girl? You mean the one you broke up with? Hate to break it to you Harry but she's not yours..not anymore.” Harry was fuming. He grabbed Ash’s shirt and pulled him forward. 

“Harry stop.” You had been watching the whole thing unwind in horror, along with all of the other people in the club who were about to video tape Harry Styles beating up Ashton Irwin. You stepped in front of Luke and Lexi and faced Harry. Just looking at him brought tears to your eyes. “Please stop.” you whined wiping a tear as it fell down your cheek. Harry’s expression changed. He dropped Ash’s shirt and stepped forward. His green eyes were glittering with tears as well. He walked forward and pulled you into a hug, your face flat against his chest and his arms tight around your waist. You could feel his tears falling on the top of your head and your tears were soaking into his shirt. You took a breath and breathed in his smell, allowing yourself to feel safe in his arms for the moment and listen to his heart beat slowing down. You had almost forgotten how much you loved his hugs. The way his arms fit perfectly around you, the way his head rested on top of yours, the way your head could bury perfectly into his chest and hear his heartbeat. Unfortunately the hug didn’t last as long as you had hoped. Harry stepped away, holding onto your hand still. He just seemed to realize that he had caused quite the scene.

“Can we talk?” he asked looking at you, his eyes begging for a chance. “Alone... please (y/n).”

“No- no this is crazy Harry.” Lexi said stepping forward towards you. “Why are you even here. To hurt more than you already have? To rub your new girlfriend in her face some more? Just fuck off Harry. Look at her.” Harry looked at your face with a pained expression. “Can’t you see how much you're hurting her right now? You're a real asshole Harry.” Lexi was ready to pounce, and to be fair she had a reason. She had nursed you back to your normal self after the break up. Staying over for weeks making sure you were eating and showering and sleeping. She was afraid what one more conversation would lead to. 

“I know I hurt her...” Harry looked at his feet. “I need to talk to her though....I need to-” 

“You don't need anything Harry.” Ashton walked up to Lexi and put his hand on her shoulder. “Just get out of here before you cause more trouble than you already have.”

Harry sighed and looked up. “I will when she tells me to.” Everyone looked and you and you looked at the floor. Of course, leave it to me to be the bad guy..I don't even want him to leave....I just want things to be the way they were before- 

“(y/n)” Ash's voice interrupted your thoughts. “Tell him to leave.”

You looked at Harry and your heart broke all over. He was crying at this point, tears streaking down his cheeks, bags under his eyes, his hair slightly more tangled than normal, and he even looked a little thinner. There was no way you could tell that boy to leave right now. You felt everything he looked like he was feeling. “Harry-” he looked down crying a little harder. He thought you were going to tell him to go...Ash and Lexi looked relieved and gave a reassuring nod in your direction. You turned to them, tears in your eyes, “I need to talk to him.” Their eyes grew wide and uncertain. Harry’s head whipped up and he looked surprised as well. You turned to him hand out, “We need to talk, but not here.”

Harry nodded and grabbed your hand, leading you out of the club where paparazzi had began to huddle. Probably heard there was a fight...You looked back once more as the door closed at Lexi and the boys who seemed to be begging you to reconsider. Too late now... Harry shielded you from most of the cameras and questions, looking for a quiet place to sit down. Apparently the only place he came up with was his car. He opened the door and helped you in before jumping in the other side. He quickly turned it on and put it in gear. “Where are we going?” you asked suddenly very nervous.

“Somewhere we can talk without people intervening and listening..” Harry must've sensed your apprehension because he threw in a “if that's okay with you..” at the end. You had nodded your head and starred out the window. It was raining and dark and you had no idea where he was going but luckily the drive was helping calm you down a bit. Your mind cleared and your breathing slowed, the tears also seemed to stop. Harry pulled into his driveway and your breath caught in your throat. There were so many memories here. Good and bad. Like the first time you had come over, or the last time you had moved out... When you broke your foot jumping over the fence to scare him, the way he kissed you on the porch before carrying you inside- “Sorry this was the only place I could think was free of people and paparazzi..”

“ssokay” you mumbled getting out of the car and following him inside. At the door a large furry surprise greeted you. “Clifford?” you asked looking at Harry. He just shrugged.

“Im watching him for the week.” You followed Harry into the living room and settled yourself on the couch. Harry stood a few feet away pacing in circles, fingers tearing through his hair the way they did when he was stressed. “(y/n)...” he breathed out looking at you, his green eyes locking on yours. “I don't even know where to start...” You didn't say anything. You didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I never meant to hurt you...I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“What do you mean? Any of this to happen? Me getting terrorized by your fans? Getting questioned about what I did to end the relationship? Getting hate because you got a new girlfriend no one likes, which by the way is somehow my fault? Getting my heart broken after you had promised it wouldn't happen?”

“All of it! Okay all of it! I didn’t want any of that to happen-” 

“You didn't want it to but it did Harry. Its your fault too. All of it.” “I love you.” He looked at you so seriously you were taken aback. 

“Wha-”

“I am in love with you. I never stopped being in love with you. I fucked up. When I broke up with you it was because I followed what management had said. I was an idiot and I let them convince me the best thing in my life was going to bring me down. I-”

“Harr-”

“No stop. Let me finish. I have never made such a big mistake before. I knew as soon as you left that I had screwed up. I wanted so badly to follow you but I thought that giving you time was going to help. I thought that you would rather never see me again. But everyday I have been away from you I haven't been able to even breathe normally. I thought finding someone else, a distraction would help but the minute she walked through my door it felt so wrong. Everything about it. I couldn't do it. And then I saw your tweet today, and I saw Irwin in bed with you and I couldn't breathe. I called Louis for help. He said to man up and do something so I came to the club. Baby I’m so sorry. So sorry for everything just please don't go...I need you in my life even if its as a friend I just can't let you go, not again....” He stopped talking and looked at you. You had absolutely no idea what to say. You were still processing everything. “(y/n) please don't go...please give me another shot. I’ll even beg.” He got down on his knees and grabbed your hands pressing a warm kiss on top. “Please baby.. say something...”

You grabbed his hands and stood up pulling him onto his feet with you. You reached your arms up around his neck earning a gentle sigh from him. He lifted you so that your legs were secured around his waist and your hands were cupping his cheeks. You smiled and placed a gentle kiss on his nose, thinking I’ll figure the rest out later, and looking into his green eyes. “I love you too.” 

----

Check out Part two!  Hope you all enjoy and are staying healthy and safe xoxo

[imaginexmeintheuniverse]

Locker Room Madness

Pairing: Nathan Young x Fem!Reader

A/N: because I haven't written anything ~steamy~ in a while and i have restored my immense crush on this irish fellow... ALSO i wrote thus months ago but upon doing a file cleanup realized i had never posted it so enjoy ~

Tag: @expellimarvelous

——————

"So when are you and Nathan going to stop eye-fucking each other and do it for real?"

"Alisha!"

"What?" Alisha shrugs, but also wears a smirk as though what she's says is a simple observation. "You know each other better than anyone and you're totally hot for each other."

"It's true," Kelly pipes up from behind you. "I bet you could tell me exactly what he's thinking right now."

You all turn your heads to look at him performing his regularly scheduled idiotic antics, and then you look back at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Please, everyone knows what he's thinking—"

"He can feel it in his balls—" the three of you laugh simultaneously, not even trying to stay quiet at that point, earning you a few turned heads with eyebrows raised in questioning from the boys.

When you've calmed down a little, you cast another glance back at Nathan and your eyes lock for a brief moment before you tear your gaze away from him. Your head falls back and you dramatically let out a exasperated groan, "Ugh, you're right."

"I always am," Alisha then closes her locker and slings her bag over her shoulder, ready to leave. The two girls connect eyes for a moment and you give them a suspicious look when Kelly nods at her.

"We'll just leave the two of you alone, now," Kelly says and your eyes widen as you realize what she's doing.

"No- A-Alisha!" you call after then in hushed shouts, but they ignore your protests. "Kelly?!" They give you innocent smiles and wave as they exit with the rest of the crew, leaving only you and Nathan in the locker room.

You're all too aware of this as a silence falls over, the only audible sound being you rummaging around your locker and shoving your items in you backpack. After closing your locker, you turn around to the bench and raise your foot to tie your shoelaces.

And that's when the silence is broken.

The bloody perv doesn't even bother to be subtle about checking out your ass. You can hear him sucking in a breath through his teeth.

On his end, he would say that he can't help it because the way your jeans fit so perfectly and the sublime curvature of both you butt cheeks are begging to be admired by his wandering eyes.

"Enjoying the show?" you ask expectantly as you stand back up. You're not going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know you're the least bit flattered. "Maybe you should take a picture."

"You know, I tried once, but the reactions weren't favourable," he sniggers, assuming his casual class-clown persona.

You let out a small chuckle at his reply, before the two of you fall into another silence.

"You know, there are only a couple of thin layers of cotton separating our genitals," he breaks the silence once again and you're reminded that every time you think you might feel something deeply for him, he always pulls off some ridiculous stunt or says something incredibly stupid that makes you want to rip your hair out. God, he's hot, but this kind of emotional immaturity is what's made you repress the hell out of your feelings.

"You're not so bad when you aren't being such an arsehole," you snip, crossing your arms over your chest. "Perhaps you should consider dropping the act every now and then."

"Oh, but darling, it's a part of me," he feigns being hurt by your comment, dramtically bringing a hand to his chest. "If you can't accept it, this isn't going to work out!"

"Oh, babes," you play along, but in your own sarcastic manner. "I suppose we should call it quits, then!" With a final roll of your eyes, you swing your bag strap over your shoulder and turn to leave.

But you're stopped by a hand grasping your arm, the long fingers curling around your bicep.

"Nathan what are you—" the rest of your sentence dies in your throat when he spins you to face him and those enticing grey eyes of his bore through you. There's a certain intensity to his gaze you've never seen before.

"I think we should try to work it out," he continues the banter, but all humour has drained from his voice. It might be the first time since you've met the wanker that he sounds even remotely serious. "Don't you think, baby?" The sound of the nickname sends a shiver up your spine.

Shaking off the feelings that threaten to surface, you take a stumbled step backwards. "What are you doing, Nathan?"

"Y/N," He takes a moment to muster up some courage. Being an idiotic arse is easy for him, but bearing real emotion is a hell of a lot harder. "I fancy you."

"You fancy me?" you ask, a teasing smile shaping your lips.

"All right, all right! I really like you!" he shouts, voice echoing throughout the locker room as he throws his hands up. You can already sense him slipping back into character from the threat of having to deal with emotions.

He starts to ramble on like some dramatic monologue and you let out a sigh of exasperation because there's no way you're going to suffer through it.

"For fuck's sake," you mutter, rolling your eyes and taking a step towards him. "Do you ever shut up?!"

You can only think about how needlessly tall and lanky he is as you grab the collar of his shirt and yank him down to bring his lips crashing onto yours.

The two of you collide in a bruising kiss and it takes him little to no time to respond. His lips move against yours insistently and you swallow up a moan he lets out as you deepen the kiss. Releasing your grasp on his shirt, your hands slide up his chest and over his shoulders, and pull your bodies flush.

Despite your bodies already being free of any distance, Nathan's palms lay flat on the small of your back, pushing you impossibly closer and you find yourself being nearly lifted off the ground as he straightens his spine. The tips of your toes brush the floor as you continue to kiss.

It's messy, yet there's still a sort of innocence in the feelings behind the heat of moment. He takes it upon himself to nibble on your bottom lip, and when you gasp in response, he takes the opportunity to glide his tongue over yours. You move your tongue against his as the two of you enter a battle for dominance that probably won't have victor.

You're set back on your feet when he spins the two of you around and pins you to his locker. He does so gently as to not hurt you, but hard enough to make the smacking metal sound— essentially, enough to make it hot.

His mouth leaves yours and you chase after his lips until his hands pin your shoulders back to the cold surface to keep you in place as he kisses his way down to your neck where he begins to suck harshly on the skin. It's all you can do to hold back a whimper as you bite down hard on your bottom lip and let your hands glide up to tangle your fingers through his curly locks while your head falls back against the locker to give him easier access. You feel him moan against your neck as you give his hair a light tug. His tongue glosses over the fresh bruise as an unapologetic aftercare, an action that makes you release a content sigh. Lips ghosting their way back up the column of your throat, he then resumes kissing you again.

His fingertips slide under the fabric of your jacket to push it off your shoulders and you shake it off your arms without giving a second though as it falls to the dirty floor. You bring your hands back up to strip him of his hoodie. Keeping his flare for the dramtic, he flings it to the other side of the room.

His body slams back into yours and you dodge his lips, angling your head to kiss down his jaw. You make your way down to the cruve connecting to his shoulder where you then slide your tongue over the tendons of his neck, not paying any mind to the taste of sweat. His hands are all over you, gripping and clutching to every bit of clothing and exposed skin as you continue to work wonders on his neck.

Feeling his back starting to cramp up from being bent over, his hands slide down to your ass, giving it a cheeky squeeze to signal you. "Why are you so fucking short," Nathan snips before lifting you off the ground and holding you up against the locker. Reattaching his lips to yours, he fully presses his body against yours and you can feel him getting hard down there.

"Please, you're too tall for absolutely no reason—" You let out a cross between an annoyed huff and a happy sigh against his mouth as his tongue darts out to slide over your lower lip.

His hands grip your waist under your shirt as you clamp your legs tighter around him, providing him him with some much needed friction. "You're so hot," he breathes out against your neck, only thinking about how there are one too many layers of clothing still standing between your bodies.