#I came [pinches fingers] this close to coming out to a complete stranger as having a weird relationship with gender

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

When you’re so happy to see a fellow queer person irl, (but also debilitatingly socially-awkward) that you accidentally give off microaggressions

[ncroissant]

this is based on @lordragamuffin's amazing fanart of bloody doppelgänger francis and real francis!!! minors please dni!!

imagine doppelgänger francis absolutely terrorizing the real francis.

he’d be so jealous, watching the way you handled your boyfriend. he’d quite literally be watching you two fuck every night, outside your balcony.

yeah, world domination was cool, but human sex looked too fun for him to pass up the opportunity.

sometimes you’d leave francis home alone when you worked overnights at the security office, while your boyfriend slept alone in his all too tight shirts.

for the past week, only when you were away, francis felt something, or someone, groping at his chest. but he was always almost half-asleep when he felt slender fingers swirling around his nipples.

he’d twitch and squirm in his sleep, huffing out moans whenever he felt something pinching and tugging at his nubs.

he thought he was going crazy.

and every morning, when he woke up from his nightly grope session, he’d always have an embarrassingly large mess in his pants. his dick was still hard, cum splattered in his boxers.

the next week, francis started having dreams about it. no face could be imagined for whoever was fondling with his chest, but he could feel the same fingers on him every night.

he thought he was just horny, missing you on the nights you weren’t there. but even when you were there, he’d feel so guilty, praying to the dream gods that he’d have a wet dream about the mystery groper, playing with his perky nipples.

then finally, one fateful night, he woke up to finally see fingers stuffed under his shirt. he was still disoriented, squirming under the cold fingers of the mystery groper.

“w-who, haah, are you…?” francis panted, throwing his head back with his tongue lulled out. the fingers were moving too fast for him to protest, nails slightly scrapping the tips.

there was no response. the only noise that filled the room were the whimpers and moans from francis. he was so needy, drool sliding out of his mouth at the immense pleasure he felt. he couldn’t even fathom how good he felt from how just his nipples.

“mmngh! c-can you, aghnn, tell me, please?” he was so polite, even while some stranger was pulling at his stupidly perky nipples, testing if any milk work come out.

doppelgänger francis would just silently chuckle at his copy’s desperation. he’d flick one bud, while rubbing the other with his thumb. whatever made his copy twitch, he’d do it over and over again to see him squirm.

humans are so stupid, he thought.

he looked down to see the mess that was brewing between francis’ legs, before finally giving francis a clue. “why not…you let me replace you, hm?”

francis tried to hide the moans that were spilling out of his lips at the revelation, but his mind was so hazy for him to even refute. “n-nggGH!” he mewled when doppel squeezed both nipples at the tips.

“i’ll play with you like this every night, then i pretend to be you in the day, hm?” doppel proposed, shivers rolling down francis’ spine. the heat of doppel’s breath brushed against his ears making them tingle.

“t-that’s, ungh, not…” francis was grinding against the fabric of his underwear, completely out of it. he was so close. just a few more flicks would send this poor boy over the edge.

“c’mon, they won’t even notice. i can play with these pretty things like this,” he flicked at francis’ buds, pressing kisses against his flushed neck. “such pretty tits, hm?” he chuckled, cupping his chest.

that comment sent francis over the moon. his heart was nearly thumping out of his chest and cum splattered on the inside of his pants.

“guess i trained you well. they’re bigger than before,” doppel didn’t waiver when francis came, continuing to torment his pink nubs. they were throbbing, sensitive to the touch.

francis’ drool dropped to his chin, his eyes rolled back all the way. “n-no, i jus’...hnghh, c-came. ‘s too soon, ngh…” he moaned, cheek smushed against the pillow.

“maybe give me the answer i wanna hear, ‘n i’ll let you have a little break, yeah?” doppel growled, sucking hickies lower down his neck.

francis’ breath hitched, shaking his head. “d-don’t, eek! d-don’t leave marks, they’ll see, mngh, them!” he pleaded.

doppel smirked, rolling his fingertips over francis’ nipples soothingly. it was slow, too slow. “ooohhngh…y-you can, hn, take over f’me…” francis cutely agreed, biting his lower lip.

“yeah? ‘n i’ll play with you every night, right?” doppel grinned widely, sucking on francis’ earlobe.

francis’ eyes were squeezed shut, flushed from the neck down. “m-mhm! p-please…” francis begged, trying to puff his chest out for more friction.

“alright. you said it yourself, so don’t go crying to me when you can’t take it anymore,” doppel chuckled darkly, tugging francis’ nipples with a squeeze.

“haaaAANGH!”

[choke-me-joey]

Eddie Munson x fem metalhead cheerleader

Summary: Based on this - how Eddie met his not so typical cheerleader girlfriend and a little exploration of their relationship.

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, smoking, underage drinking, drug use, swearing, flirting, smut.

AN: there is a scene in this based on a ✨️video✨️ i had sent to me by a beautiful anon and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. If you want the link you can find it on my page or message me and I'll try to send it!

📢 TAG LIST IS NOW FULL 📢

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Chapter 4

The following Tuesday, after practice and your homework, you'd driven over to The Hideout to see the famous Corroded Coffin play to their crowd of regular drunks. You parked your car in the lot, getting out and straightening out your cropped Iron Maiden shirt. You'd paired it with some shorts and fishnets, as well as your Docs and your jacket which, courtesy of Eddie, now had a WASP pin resting proudly on the lapel.

You made your way into the, quite honestly, dump of a bar, impressed that you didn't even need a fake ID to get in. You grinned when you saw Corroded Coffin setting up on the small stage and made a beeline for your friends and your....Eddie.

"What's up, rockstars?" You smile, giving Eddie a cheeky pinch to the butt as he was bent over with his back to you sorting out his peddle. He angled his head to look at you, and nearly keeled over at the sight of your outfit. He recovered, standing up to hug you.

"Now this just isn't fair, sweetheart, gonna be playing our set with a fucking boner," he groans into you ear, making you giggle. He subtly kissed your head.

"Holy shit you actually came!" Gareth said, grinning at you from behind his drum kit. "Eddie said you might not make it because of practice."

"Like I'd miss the infamous Corroded Coffin live in concert," you gesture to the homemade banner behind them. "I'm excited!"

"You're probably the only one in the audience who is," Jeff laughs, glancing over the few people who had come to the bar to watch them play.

"Well, just remember who your biggest fan was in the early days, yeah?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Eddie winks at you and you have to wrestle down the urge to kiss him, not knowing how he felt about your...whatever this was between you being made super public yet. You instead settle on shooting him a wink and going to get yourself a drink whilst they finished setting up, patiently waiting for their set to start.

You were surprised when the bartender handed you a beer, apparently Eddie had sorted you with a drink before you'd gotten there, and again that meant nobody was checking your ID. You said nothing, taking your beer and sitting at a table close to the stage where you had a good view and Eddie could definitely see you.

The band start their set and you're completely blown away. Not only are they actually pretty damn good, the way Eddie carries himself on stage is incredible. He's confident, charismatic, nothing new there, but he eludes this sexy rockstar attitude that makes your pussy clench as you watch him. He plays with an energy that should be for 80,000 people not just 0.01% of that.

You watch his skilled fingers running up and down the frets, effortlessly playing chords without even glancing down. And when he sang, god your heart skipped a beat. His voice was the perfect mix of soft melodic singing and raw yells and shouts. They played a mix of covers and their own songs, their musical influences clear in those original pieces. Your favourite so far had been their rendition of Paranoid by Black Sabbath, and a song called Shallow Grave of their own. You had screamed and shouted and applauded, probably too enthusiastically really, but you didn't care. They were good, and Eddie was hot.

As the notes of another original song, Strangers in the Dark, came to an end, Eddie spoke into the microphone.

"We're going to change things up a little bit now folks, with a new cover dedicated to a very special person who happens to be our number one fan. This one's for you, airhead." He shot you a smirk and you grinned back at him, your cheeks flushing. "Sing along if you know it, maybe even dance a little if you're drunk enough."

The opening notes of Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks, but with a Corroded Coffin touch, began to play and your jaw dropped. You fucking loved this song, and your mind and heart race when you remember you had told Eddie that, probably about 3 weeks ago when you'd first started speaking properly, only mentioned it briefly when he'd seen the tape of Bella Donna sticking out of your bag.

He'd...learnt this, for you? Made his band learn this for you without even knowing if you'd ever come to one of his shows?

It's a good thing you were sat down because your knees felt stupidly weak.

"Just like the white wing dove, sings a song sounds like she's singing, ooh, ooh, ooh," Eddie croons; his voice could have brought tears to your eyes. He wasn't playing guitar for this, cupping the mic in his hands in a way that should have been illegal.

You sit in your seat, singing along, watching as a few drunks get up to dance, mostly middle aged women who look as if Stevie Nicks is their lord and saviour.

"Come on honey, your boyfriend is singing this for you! You gotta dance!" One of the Stevie-ites grabs your hand and tries to pull you up to dance.

"Oh, I cant-" you start, feeling a little embarassed. Ridiculous really, seeing as you were in front of two entire high schools nearly every week dancing and cartwheeling and splitting. Why the fuck was dancing in front of Eddie making you shy?!

You catch Eddie's eye as you're dragged onto the small dance area in front of the stage, the woman lets go of your hand to do her own Stevie style twirl, and you laugh, doing the same when she encourages you to do so. You glance up at Eddie and he grins back at you, still singing away as he pulls you up onto the small stage, twirling you around. You stay next to him, wrapped in his arms as the band finishes the song. When the last note plays, Eddie grabs you and you kisses you hard on the lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, the small crowd whooping and cat calling as you break apart, both of you panting and grinning like fools.

"You're amazing," Eddie says breathlessly, looking into your eyes.

"Me?! I'm not the one who just turned Stevie Nicks into a bad ass metal anthem! You gotta record that, you...you're incredible!" You pant, your face starting to hurt with how much you're smiling. You run one finger down his chest whilst looking up at him through your lashes. "How much longer is the set, rock star?"

Eddie swallows hard.

"Uh, th-three songs."

"Perfect, I'll be waiting by your van when you've packed up." You shoot him a sexy smirk, pecking his lips once more and hopping off the stage to watch the rest of the set.

*

True to your words you were waiting, leant up against the side of Eddie's van as he finished loading up his equipment.

"So, I've been thinking, that bed you've got in there?" You gesture to the back of the van. "Super fucking comfortable, perfect for laying down after a successful show, don't you think?"

"While every fibre of my being is going to hate me for saying this, Y/N-"

"Who said anything about sex?" You cut him off and he looks at you, confusion etched on his face. "Just wanna show you how appreciative I am that you learned a song for me, very cute by the way."

"Well, I have been known to be pretty cute," Eddie grins, letting you pull him into the back of the van, kicking the door shut. He grunts, letting out a breathless laugh as you push him onto his back and straddle him, pushing his shirt up his stomach. "Hey, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to, right?"

"What about if I want to?" You smile, rocking your hips experimentally against him. Eddie groans, fingers biting into your hips. You lean down and kiss him, tongue immediately finding his. Eddie's hands travel from your hips to your ass, squeezing it softly at first, then harder as your kisses grows deeper and more desperate. You pull away from the kiss, sitting back on your heels and your hands hover over his belt buckle. "Can I?"

"Yeah, yes, shit, you can do anything you want to me right now, sweetheart." Eddie groans as you undo his belt, your hand ghosting over the bulge in his jeans. Once his jeans are also undone, he helps you by lifting his hips so you can pull his jeans and boxers down to his mid thigh. You can't help the gasp that leaves your mouth as his cock springs free, slapping his lower stomach.

"Holy...what the fuck, Eddie?!" You laugh, unable to process what you're seeing. He's big. And not just big, but thick too. Uncut, with a delicious thick vein running along the underside of his cock. His balls are - is it weird to say perfect?- big and round and your mouth salivates at the sight. Would you even be able to wrap your hand around him? Swallow him down? Would your cunt stretch enough to accommodate him? Your brain buzzed with arousal.

"Not really something I go around showing off," Eddie chuckles, hissing as you attempt to wrap your hand around him, slowly stroking him. You pull back his foreskin to expose the head of his cock, the same beautiful shade of reddy purple as his lips, and you watch in fascination as a small bead of precum blurts out and over your fingers. "Shit, Y/N, your hand feels so fucking good."

"I haven't even done anything yet," you giggle, moving a tiny bit faster, your other hand gently cupping his balls. You make sure he's looking at you before you let a glob of spit fall from your mouth onto the head of his cock, using it to lube his shaft for your hand to glide easier along it. Eddie fucking whimpers, whimpers, at that, his head dropping back onto the pillow beneath him.

"Fuck, babe, you're fucking...you're a dream."

"A wet one, I hope?"

"You're...everything. God the amount of times I've thought about this, about you...Jesus, how are you fucking real?" Eddie sighs as you work your hand over his cock faster, the mix of your spit and his precum making it easier. "Can I...fuck, can you take your shirt off? And...and put my jacket on?"

He prayed silently that you'd agree, it was all he'd been able to think about for about 3 weeks. You smile, nodding, taking off your shirt. Eddie almost blows his load there and then. Not only were you braless, but you also had your fucking nipples pierced, the two silver bars winking at him in the dim lights streaming in from the car park. You send him a knowing smirk briefly letting go of his cock to grab his previously discarded jacket and slip your arms into it, the leather cool and somewhat a little sticky against your damp skin.

"How do I look?" Your voice is low and sultry, laced with arousal. The throb between your legs is almost unbearable now, and you grind your crotch against his leg for some relief.

"Like every wet dream I've had since I was 13," Eddie groans as you spit on his cock again. "Shit, never thought you'd be so..."

"So what?" You challenge with a smirk, one eyebrow cocked as you continue to jerk him off.

"Jesus, so fucking...filthy." Eddie gasps as you run your other thumb over the slit of his cock, gathering some precum on the digit and sucking it into your mouth. You exaggerate a moan, this was purely for him right now but he did taste really fucking good. "Shit, gonna cum soon, don't stop baby."

"Not going to Eds, want you to make a mess all over me." You push the jacket off of your tits so he can clearly see them. Your free hand pinches one of your nipples, making you moan and grind down onto him again, a whimper leaving your mouth.

"Jesus fuck!" Eddie grunts, his cock twitching in your hand as he cums, streaking your tits, stomach and a little bit of his own jacket with thick white ropes. You stroke him through it, letting go of his thick cock when he starts to hiss in discomfort. "Fuck, princess, easy, easy," he lets a breathless laugh as you scoop up some of his cum off your tits with your finger, popping it into your mouth and sucking it off. "Jesus H Christ."

"I prefer Y/N." You grin, letting out a squeal as Eddie pins you down onto the floor of the van, kissing you hard. His hand wanders to the button of your shorts. "Hey, don't worry about me, handsome. This was all for you."

"You sure? I want to." Eddie's eyes flick to yours and you smile.

"I know, and believe me I really want you to but I have to get home, school night and all that." You sigh and Eddie groans, dropping his head to your shoulder. "My fingers will just have to do tonight."

Eddie groans even louder.

"Shit, Y/N, that isn't fair."

"Relax, Eds, my parents are away this weekend, so I'll have that big, empty house all to myself. You wanna come over and protect poor little old me?" You put on a fake pout. Eddie smirks.

"And by protect you mean-"

"Fuck my brains out until I can't fucking walk and make me scream so loud the neighbours will know your name? Yeah, that's what I meant." You giggle, pecking his lips softly.

"Oh, I'll be there baby, I'll protect you so hard, don't you worry."

Taglist:

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[p1nkprincess444]

⋆˚࿔ ɪ sᴛɪʟʟ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ - ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋᴇʀ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

female!reader x killer!charlie walker

word count: 749

content: 18+, angst, murder, happy ending

You had been looking for your boyfriend in Kirby’s house everywhere. You couldn’t seem to find anyone until you quietly crept up the staircase. You saw a sliver of light peeking through a bedroom door. When you approached the door you saw someone looming over a dead Kirby adorned in full ghost face attire. You slowly backed away from the door until a floorboard creaked under your sneaker. You let out a shriek as the stranger chased you down the stairs tackling you in the entryway. 

I struggled helplessly as I was pinned to the floor, “ Stop! No- no please! ”

The stranger kept you pinned down as they pulled off their mask. It was Charlie. Your face dropped as you saw your boyfriend slide off the ghost face mask that was smeared with blood.

“ I’m going to let you go, can you be calm, ” Charlie was straddling your hips as he kept your wrists pinned to your chest.

You nodded and Charlie slowly let go of you and stood up, towering over your terrified frame. You slowly sat up as you stared at him. You began to cry as you curled into a ball holding yourself tightly as Charlie stood there. He leaned down and tried to hug you but you pushed him away. 

“ Baby please I won’t hurt you- just- just let me see you, ” Charlie’s voice was soft as he gently pulled your arms away from your face to see your red tear stained face. 

I looked up at him as he held onto my wrists, “ Char- why? ” My voice was frail and weak as I looked into his big blue eyes. 

He didn’t have an answer, his mouth just hung open for a moment before closing. He pulled you into a tight hug, your body stiffened for a moment before relaxing against his. You held onto him tightly as you cried, it seemed like all dreams for a future with Charlie were coming crashing down. He pulled you away from his chest so he could look into your puffy red eyes as you sniffled. 

His hand grasped your chin as he forced you to meet his gaze. “ I love you, my sweet angel. I’ll never hurt you, ” Charlie kissed your lips gently before moving you back into his lap.

“ Mm’ so sorry I did this to you, ” he mumbled as he kissed down your neck before sliding off your shirt.

You let him lay you down on the hardwood floor as he kissed down your body and stripped you of your clothes. As Charlie kissed down your body he murmured apologies against your soft skin. He looked up at you as his kisses reached the hem of your panties. You nodded and he quickly slid them off before he buried his head between your thighs. He lapped at your folds before sliding two of his fingers inside of your hands gripped and tugged on his hair as lewd sounds left your lips. Your hips bucked against his face as you tightened around his fingers. You moaned his name loudly as you came on his face while he pinched your clit between his fingers.

Charlie slid back on top of you as you caught your breath. His hands fumbled with his belt buckle as he straddled your hips. He managed to pull off his belt before he quickly unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down just past his hips along with his boxers. He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before pushing into you completely making you both let out satisfied moans. 

His thrusts were slow and deep as he looked deep in your eyes while soft groans slipped past his lips. “ Fuck- you feel so good baby, ” he said before nuzzling his face into your neck.

You couldn’t form a sentence as his thrusts became more desperate and needy as he let out soft groans and moans. Your moans grew louder as your vision blurred as you came around his cock. Charlie’s hips began to slam into you harder and faster as he became desperate for release. He groaned loudly as he came inside of you before collapsing on top of you. You gently brushed the hair from his face as he caught his breath.

I admired his beautiful big eyes as I stroked his hair, “ I still love you Char. ” 

Charlie hummed softly in response as his grip tightened on you.

[wifeofnatasharomanoff]

Reaching You

WARNINGS: angst with a happy ending (jk), arguing,

WORDS: 775

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

A/N: sorry y'all...!

She's barely home anymore. It's as if your wife wasn't the same. You were losing her, just as she already lost you.

“Natasha you're barely even at home. You don't get to fucking talk about how I'm taking care of our son who I had to go through 9 months of hell for!” you shouted as you tried your hardest to not look at her. “I'm just saying that maybe he's old enough for a babysitter. The team misses you in the group, babe.” You scoff, “I'm sure that they do, but he's not even a year old, Natasha. I'm not going to leave our son alone with a stranger. You're a superhero. There are people everywhere trying to hurt you, or us too. You don't even make the time to be at home for me or him.”

“The only reason he's safe is because the world doesn't know that the black widow has a son.” Natasha sighed, “you're so god damn stubborn. If nobody knows about him, he's fine.” you shook your head. “Fuck you. You can't say that, Nat, anything could happen. You'd trust a stranger over your own wife?”

She pinched at the bridge of her nose, “That's not it, y/n. I-I'm just saying they want you back on the team, it's not safe to bring a baby to the Avengers compound.”

“And you think leaving Alex with a complete stranger is safer? No. I'm not doing it there is nothing you could say to convince me.” she muttered something before speaking up, “fine. I'll be at the compound if you need me.”

“I won't, don't worry.” bullshit you always go back to begging her to come home. You heard the front door open and then close.

Sighing to yourself as you walked into the kitchen to make a snack for you and Alex. “Mommy!” your face lit up when you looked down to see him walking on wobbly legs to you, “Hi lovebug! How did you get out of your crib hm?” you bent down to take him in your arms as his stubby hands grabbed at your shoulder. “Stawbayies.” you saw him point at the uncut fruit on the chopping board, “you want strawberries?” he nodded. “Only if you promise to not leave your crib.” he beamed at you before crawling away to his crib.

You chopped up some berries before going back to where Alex found himself in his crib, “come on sweetie, I got you your strawberries.” you cooed as he leaped into your arms. You fed him his fruit and he later fell asleep over your shoulder, “Goodnight, sweetheart..” you whispered as you quietly walked over to your bed and laid him on the mattress. You sighed as you let him curl his small hand around your finger, watching his every breath as he slept peacefully, completely unaware of what just went on between his parents.

Eventually, you fell deep asleep next to him. Not knowing that Natasha came back from the compound an hour after you fell asleep. Not knowing that she was sitting right beside you while you held Alex close to you as you slept. “hm.. darling?” she hummed in response, her emerald green eyes focused on a piece of your hair she was toying with. “When did you get home, Tasha?”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said earlier. I was wrong, baby.” she whispered, her hands resting on your waist as her face was buried into the crook of your neck. “Natasha I-” you shifted your position on the bed to look at her, “I understand if you don't forgive me right now, krasivaya but I'm sorry. I asked Tony to not call me in unless it's urgent— I'll stay home more, dekta please.” you sighed as Natasha squeezed at your hand.

“Okay.” she blinked, a spark of hope in her eyes. “I'll forgive you.. but, on one condition. Tell the team I'll come back, except when I'm there, you have to stay home.” she slightly smiled at your words. “okay. I'll do it. I love you so much. I'm so sorry—” you pressed your lips against hers, “I love you too.” she chuckled out of relief against your skin, her hands pressed against your arms. “I love you so much, detka.”

“I missed this. I missed you, darling.”

But she wasn't there. She was on a mission, you were all alone waiting for her to come home as always. As knowing as you were about your wife's actions you were still naive to think that she'd listen to you can come back home just because you told her to.

[misskittyhart]

Material Girls

Content warning: language, suggestive language (I mean it’s Angel guys ) stalking

Angel had his head in his hands sitting at the bar nursing a cocktail. He looked out of it completely. Kitty knew that look well. The distant look of disassociation, trying to lose your self at the end of a bottle. Angel and her saw eye to eye on many things, and often confided in each other. When kitty was alive in New Orleans she was in a horribly abusive arranged marriage. She was no stranger to toxic love and binding contacts when it came to Angel. That is probably why they clicked so well. They could sense the sadness and pain buried behind the mask.

“Oh honey.” Kitty said in her soft and caring tone. She put her hand gently over his bringing him out of his glazed daze.

“Oh….ah…hey Kit cat.” He said quietly.

“….he hit you again” kitty said in a tone laced with malice as she saw the bruise on Angel’s cheek. If Valentino wasn’t an over lord he’d be six feet under by now. But Alastor always told her in due time darling.

Angel tried to play it off like always “well you know spice things up in the bedroom!” He laughed finishing his drink “I’m fine are you kiddin me? Doesn’t even hurt”

Kitty felt a pang of sadness deep in her. She could see the mask coming up. She sighed not wanting to pry further. She squeezed his hand “say.” She started he looked at her curious, “why don’t we go shopping? Some retail therapy is a great way to get out of the dumps”

Angel’s eyes lit up at the idea. “Oh yeah? You got it sugar tits! That sounds like a blast!”

Kitty laughed, she rather liked his crass and sassy nature. It was also nice to have a man not trying to touch or flirt with her. Angel just felt like a younger brother, which made her fiercely protective. Kitty held up a gold credit card between her fingers. “I’ve got the all access tour to a ton of money~ so we can go wild.”

Angel grinned looking at the credit card, he could clearly see Alastor’s name across it as the owner of this. He raised and eyebrow. “That’s sure sweet of the strawberry pimp. Look I don’t understand your relationship with ol creepy smiles, or how you can even want to tap that….but I guess everyone has their kink~”

Kitty smacked his hand playfully, “oh hush you.” Her cheeks were tinged lightly pink at his teasing. Though the thought of being intimate with Alastor made her heart pound in her ears. She shook her head her fluffy fox ears pinned back against her head.

Angel cackled and looked down at her. “Let me go get into something more fun. Then we will burn his money up baby!”

Kitty sat down at the bar as she waited for Angel. The bracelet on her arm with the radio tube eye emitted a low hiss and crackle sound. Her ears caught the sound flicking as she gazed down at it. Of corse he would be spying on them. “You are suppose to be working you know. Not listening in.” She said placing her finger on the eye, “you couldn’t take me for a wardrobe update because you said you were soooo busy with your territory”

Hissssssssss, pfffffbttttt, pop.

That was her reply with the faintest sound of Kitty~ in the static.

Alastor would get so possessive and jealous when she spent her time with other residents. He was egotistical like that. He wanted all of her attention all of the time. Even if she had to sit in his office in silence for hours while he worked. He just wanted to feel her close and giving him her time. She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get all jealous.” She sighed pinching the bridge of her nose. “You made the choice…” she trailed off before hearing Angel’s foot steps

“Girl let’s go!” He said striking a pose. He had changed into a fluffy fur collar jacket, and a pair of hot pink sunglasses.

Kitty looked at him with a bright grin her canines flashing in the light “as the kids say these days ‘girl slay’” she was getting used to modern slang and modern technology. After all the 1920s had all of its own slang and she still used it but mostly with Alastor. Angel laughed doing a little runway walk to her.

She grabbed her purse and pulled out her own sunglasses her looked classic and vintage. She put them on. Angel took her arm in a friendly matter “let’s go bad bitch!” He laughed.

They headed out into the street from the hotel lobby. Kitty quite liked shopping with Angel, he had excellent taste in clothing and often loved dressing her up like she was a little doll. She was hoping to get a few more modern pieces of clothing with some more sex appeal. Not that she minded wearing all of her vintage clothes, she always looked so darling. However…she wanted to change things up.

“I’ve got an idea Ang.” She said looking up at him.

He beamed down at her “you thinkin what I’m thinkin?”

She nodded firmly “Hell bucks!”

“Yes girl I could go for a bucket of iced coffee right now.” He smiled

“Long night again?” She pryed.

Angel’s smile fell slightly “I mean yeah you could say. Val had me filming almost to sunrise…”

Kitty purses her lips. Oh if that mother fucker wasn’t more powerful then a her, she’d throw him into a bug zapper. He was gross with her too. He pressed her to make a contract with him so he could make her a star, in front of Alastor, during a overlords meeting. He followed it saying he could find a good use for her pouty lips. The amount of static and malicious that had drilled off Alastor but he had to play nice. She could feel his claws on her shoulders digging in as he glared at Valentino before saying she was already a star. So yeah….fuck valentino.

Angel noticed an aura of rage around her. He laughed softly “hey it’s okay…it’s part of the job”

This snapped kitty from her thoughts “well fuck him, but let’s not let him spoil our day.” Her ear flicked hearing a soft hissing static from her bracelet. Her eyes cast down at it in slight annoyance. He really had nothing better to do did he?

They made it down to the coffee shop and headed inside. The delicious smell of fresh brewed coffee was a welcome beacon. Heading to the counter they eagerly ordered iced coffees in the largest size possible and waited. It was nice having access to as much money as she desired to spend. Alastor didn’t much use his wealth, and enjoyed showering her with it. The amount of dresses and trinkets she had in her room was almost getting to hoarding levels. He very much loved for his possessions to look pretty. Frequently dripping her neck and arms with jewels. It was overwhelming at times.

They got their coffees and headed out. Angel sighed happily drinking it. “This is what I’m talking about! Ya know sometimes coffee hits harder than blow!” He laughed

Kitty grinned up at him. She wasn’t one for drug use finding her vice only at the bottom of a bottle of rye. “It’s quite the treat isn’t it?” She sipped on it as they walked into one of the large shopping districts. She always let Angel lead on these outings, he seemed to know where to shop.

“So whatcha lookin for Kit cat?” He asked looking down at her, “you want me to help pick out some sexy lingerie to make ol creepy smiles jaw drop?” He grinned mischievously messing with her.

Kitty’s face flustered at the idea, putting quite the image in her mind about what would happen if she walked into his office in something Angel had picked out.

Psssssst!!!! Crack! Pop! Hizzzzzmmnnnnn

the radio static again, why did it seem flustered.

Choke on that you bastard. She thought.

Angel could barely hear the static, her ears more sensitive to its sounds. She wasn’t sure if it was her contract with Alastor that made that so.

He looked at her bracelet “not to be a cunt. But it’s really creepy he gave you that magic transponder that he can tune into when ever and listen in on you”

Kitty shrugged lightly “well when you sign your soul away you kind of loose the right to all privacy.”

Angel nodded lightly “fuck…don’t remind me.”

Kitty shook her head, honestly it didn’t bother her. It made her feel safe knowing he knew where she was and what she was doing. It’s come in handy when she got into danger a few times. It’s like he could immediately step out of the shadows and challenge whatever creature dare touch his property

Angel shook his head. She sure was strange. He had no idea why she liked Alastor more than just, her boss. But he had no right to shame her.

“Oh yeah! We gotta go in here!” Angel said suddenly stopping at a store that had hot pink neon lights pouring from its windows. Kitty cocked her head looking at the clothing on display. It was modern and….revealing. Her face flushed lightly. She wasn’t much into wearing dresses and skirts that went above the knee. But Angel had been desperately trying to get her into a mini skirt for what seemed like eons. She sighed.

“I suppose I can try to see what they have to offer” she said looking at the overly sexual clothing. Angel grabbed her hand and jaunted into the shop with her.

Kitty looked around at the clothes in here. Most of it barely left anything to the imagination. Angel wasted no time diving into a rack of clothes and started grabbing things to try on. Including a handful of items he thought she’d look great in.

Kitty looked out of place and embarrassed as he handed her some clothing with what she thought had very little material to them. He patted her on the shoulder and pushed her to the dressing room a mischievous grin on his face. He was fucking with her. Her ears pinned back as she shot him a look. She was shoved into the dressing room and he shut the door behind her leaning against it so she couldn’t come back out.

“You’re impossible Ang!” She scowled. She picked up one of the dark green dresses which had a deep V cut that almost went to her belly button. The bottom of the dress came up mid thigh and it felt like wearing a vise it was so tight.

“I want to see~” Angel said in a sing song tone. Kitty felt almost naked wearing this. She steeled her nerves and walked out. Angel’s eyes lit up seeing her in it “holy fuck girl!” He clapped his hands together “that will surely fluster ol smiles~” kitty kept pulling at the hem of the dress trying to hold it down. Angel laughed at her modest nature. “Honey it’s not the 1920s any more. Live it up be a bad bitch!” He teased

Kitty sighed. It was pointless to argue with Angel. Her mind began to wander thinking what Alastor would think of this outfit.

She could sense him. Her eyes flicked around looking for him. He was near by. She could feel it in her bones. The radio static was getting out of control. Faintly she could see his shadow in the corner of the room. It’s head in her direction. The radio static got louder and her ears pinned back. Hm? What a weird reaction. Kitty smirked “I think I’ll get this and a few more things” she felt emboldened by Alastor’s reaction.

He always teased her and touched her flirting with her because he loved seeing her break down for him. It was a power high to be able to control her in that way. He always had that wide sharp grin as he stared down at her squirming in his grasp. Time for payback.

They shopped for hours at different stores. She could see the shadow becoming more clear as the day went on. To the point she could see red eyes staring her down and a wide toothy grin meeting her gaze. Angel hadn’t noticed it at all. Which made it almost like a secret.

Oh she had his attention alright, Angel was right about that. “man!” Angel said suddenly breaking her thought, “I needed that! Thanks again kit cat!” He grinned at her

They were heading back into the hotel with arms full of bags. Angel had found a bunch of new outfits and seemed giddy. Kitty hadn’t gone too wild, as she felt the clothes she had picked were bold enough. Angel begged her to get some lingerie; she caved this time.

They came back into the Hotel and her face went scarlet seeing Alastor on the couch reading a book. The old gramophone was playing some jazz in the background and he was nursing a whiskey. He didn’t look up at her but spoke suddenly “have fun spending my money~?” He said in his usual teasing tone.

“Don’t give me a credit card with out a limit if you don’t want me too~” she said back setting her bags down. His eyes drifted toward the bags. He didn’t get to see everything she had bought but he had seen enough. He was curious what other treats might be in those bags and felt his mind wander.

“Hmmm” was all he said in his little annoyed tone.

Kitty handed him a small bag, “here….I got you this as a thank you.”

She caught him off guard his eyes widened slightly at the idea. However his classic grin didn’t falter to betray his emotions. He simply set his book down and took the bag from her curious. He opened it up and saw a black box inside. Kitty’s tail wagged slowly as she waited for him to open the box.

He couldn’t recall the last time he was given a gift, and it was only ever from Rosie when he did receive one. He was curious. He must have missed this little part of their excursion. He opened the box his eyes falling onto a beautiful gold pocket watch. It was antique. It had a stunning decorative link chain with a red ruby bail charm handing from it. He was silent. He’d never received such a personal and fine gift.

He ran his thumb over the crystal thinking quietly. He stood suddenly grabbing her bags. His eyes looked down at her as he towered over her. Kitty cocked her head not sure what he was thinking. “Office.” He said walking out of the lobby carrying her packages. She turned to look at Angel who gave her two thumbs up.

She followed Alastor in silence as they moved through the hotel to his radio tower. He opened the door for her letting her move past him into his main office. He closed the door behind him. He set the bags on the couch and looked over her looking down at her.

“Alastor?” She asked confused.

His clawed finger reached forwards playing with a curl around her face. His eyes burning into hers. She felt her heart racing. Did he not like it? Was he upset with her? He would do this she swore just to make her on edge, another way he could control her.

“Hmmm.” He said in a hum. “Thank you.” He said simply. His claw moved tracing her jaw slowly. She felt her hairs stand on end and her heart pound in her chest.

“Y…you’re welcome” she said looking up at him. He ran his finger under her chin and leaned down over her his face close to her ear.

“You looked stunning by the way, darling~” he purred into her ear.

Kitty went stiff her face flushing a dark shade of red. He grinned wickedly looking down at her. “I want to see them all on. Give me a little show” he teased.

He was serious wasn’t he? He nodded as if confirming those thoughts, he moved to sit at his desk. “Well?” He said lacing his fingers together. “Sometime this century, kitty~”

Fuck.

“Yes sir.” She said moving to her bags.

“And that little lacy thing you decided to let Angel talk you into. Now.” He said his eyes burning into her. “I’d like to see you in that now~”

Her face went scarlet and she felt she would pass out. God damn it Angel.

~til next time

[drakenology]

the yakuza wife - yakuzaboss!bakugo x housewife reader - inspired by @hanji-is-life ‘s sexy ass. 

yakuza au

tw: violence, sadism, mentions of blood, smut, cum, cussing, daddy/ddlg kinks undertones, mentions of guns, very much harley quinn and joker only joker actually loves harley in this ya know?

“where the fuck is my money?” bakugo asks this bludgeoned man tied up to a metal chair in some god forsaken warehouse god only knows where. 

“please sir, i’ll get it to you as soon as I can! please stop!” the man pleads, flinching when bakugo raises his fist to land a mean left hook into his jaw with a dark chuckle. 

“you know you shouldn’t borrow from people if you have no intentions in payin’ em back. it’s fuckin’..” he pauses before taking a crowbar and bashing the man in both his knees, blood curdling screams filling the empty space. “rude!”

bakugo smirks as the man begs for mercy, pulling a set of pliers of his pocket and holding them up to the man’s face to tease him, grabbing by his neck to make him meet his intimidating gaze. 

“shoulda thought of that before trying to playing me for a fuckin’ fool.. hey, I wonder how many teeth I can pull outta ya before your weak ass passes out.” he grunts, waving the plier in his face until the sound of his phone ringing stops him from doing anything.

“you’re lucky I gotta take this.” he mumbles, taking a piece of dirty cloth and shoving it into his mouth to keep him quiet.

bakugo turns away and rolls up his sleeve, setting up his tools for torture as he answers the phone. 

“hi baby!” you chime, at the mall having the time of your life with his credit card. 

“hey. ‘m workin’ whaddaya want?” he says, holding up his pliers and sitting them down on the table as his hostage screams in the background. 

“just checking on you, dummy! whatcha want for dinner, hm? i know you haven’t eaten yet.” you say, holding up different dresses to your frame to imagine yourself in them. “hey, pink or powder blue?”

“pink. and ‘m not hungry. you’ve got security with you, right baby?” he asks, kicking the man onto the floor with a loud thud. 

“of course. you won’t let me leave the house without them.” you respond, not even paying attention to the muffled screams you hear in the background. you’ve learned not to ask too many questions when it comes to being a yakuza wife. 

“gotta keep my baby safe, right? listen, princess I gotta go. i’ll be home before 9 okay?” 

you suck your teeth and roll your eyes, “fine. be careful okay?”

“always am. love you baby.” as he hangs up and returns to his task. 

the difference between you and katsuki was night and day. everyone knew you to be so sweet and kind; unbeknownst to them all how you ended up with a cretin like Bakugo. even though Katsuki was immoral in many ways, he knew marrying you was the right thing to do. who else would want to dress his wounds and pick out his suits for the day?

katsuki demanded you quit your job. in fact he came with you to put in your two weeks notice, tough scowl staining his features as your boss signed the approval with shaking hands.

from that day on he ensured you were well taken care of and that marrying him and becoming his housewife came with many perks.

for starters, your husband was loaded. all those years of extorting and money laundering paid off every time you come home with a couple shopping bags from the mall.

katsuki loved lavishing you in the finest of everything, adoring how you look in designer. so much so, he fucks you by the bay window of your luxury penthouse, the Chanel dress he just bought you hiked up over your ass as his calloused fingers make way into your mouth. you’re pinned to the glass, bare breasts pressed against the window as he railed you from behind. and he wonders why you turned out to be a spoiled brat.

your gifts always made you stand out above the rest. many men fawn over you and he knows this. just a small price to pay for having a fine ass wife. but if anyone ever forgot their place, if anyone ever got to close. well. that’d be the last time you’d ever see them. course you have no idea why. but even though katsuki loved you with all his heart, you could be a real pain in the ass. you were so bratty, especially when he was busy. 

one day you came trotting into his office in the middle of some business deal. whatever. your jimmy choos popped and you needed a new pair before the yacht party you were attending started. 

“daddy’s taking care of business right now, okay? go wait outside.”

“no! you promised we’d go shopping! I need new shoes what the fuck am I supposed to do with these?” you whine, pouting like usual to get your way. bakugo’s brow raised, walking towards you and gesturing for the meeting to continue without him. his hand rested on your lower back as he escorted you out.  

he fucked your brains in in the next room for disobeying him, panties around your ankles, your charm anklet jingling as he picked up your legs. 

“spoiled fuckin’ brat. told you to wait didn’t I? hm? or did you make a scene ‘cause you wanted my dick?” your head hangs back as your hips are held down by him, thrusts brutal as you cry for him to slow down, face turned away from his. he grabs your chin and turns you around harshly with his scarred and calloused hands, bruised knuckles turning white with a tight grip. 

“look at me when i’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you.” 

he came inside you when he was done, pulling your panties up for you as it dripped down your leg. 

“now.. back to what I was doin’. tell the driver to take your ass home.” he huffs with a zip of his pants and a shake in his sleeves to fix them. bakugo leaves you on the desk, leaving the door cracked for you to leave when you got yourself together. and when you did you could hardly hold yourself up, holding your high heels in your hand as you limp to the car waiting outside for you. 

having a yakuza boss as a husband was always exciting. something in you liked the danger; the thrill.

you tell this tale to your other socialite girlfriends and they almost never believe you.

you were out with bakugo on a date when work called. to your dismay, he had to get up and leave. you insisted on being brought along, hating being left alone in that big house that was often empty without him. he agreed but only if you promised to be quiet like a good little girl. 

when you arrive at some warehouse (the same one mentioned earlier), a man was already hog tied on the ground, muffled screams behind a piece of duck tape as bakugo ripped it off. you sat by a table, legs folded in annoyance. this interrupted date night? you scoff and fold your arms. 

“ah. good seeing you old friend. remember me?” he asks, taunting him a little with a gun in his hand pressing it against his jaw as the man let out muffled pleas for him not to shoot. 

“you tried stealing from me. fuckin’ idiot. my boys caught you in some hotel with your little girlfriend. did you think you were gonna have a victory fuck after you made off with my money, hm?” bakugo asks, hitting him upside the head with the butt of his pistol.

you jump at the sound of the blow, a small part of you turned on watching your husband beat the crap out of a complete stranger. your pussy starts to ache when you peer over at bakugo’s strong tattooed arms as he flung his jacket aside, rolling his white sleeves up to ensure his expensive suit doesn’t get soiled. 

“oh fuck, where are my manners? this is my lovely wife, y/n. say hi baby.” he coos at you, a switch from rough to gentle when he spoke to you. you smile and wave, the hostage sobbing out a weak greeting when bakugo demands him to. 

“anyways. what’d you do with the money, asswipe? gonna tell me or are you gonna make me fuck you up in front of my pretty wife. god, look at ‘er, ain’t she gorgeous? you know I was about 30 minutes from railing her before you had to go along and ruin our night. I should kill you right here.” bakugo turns his head towards you with a sick look in his eye. 

“whaddaya think, princess? what should I do to this motherfucker, huh?” he asks. 

“smack him again. he ruined date night.” you grumble, folding your arms. 

“he sure did, baby.” bakugo says, punching the hostage in his jaw. he gestured for his men to crowd around him, all of them taking turns kicking and beating him with metal bars. katsuki walks towards you and pulls you into a passionate kiss, a bit of blood on his knuckles as he pulled your hair. god, this whole situation was sick. but why was it so hot?

bakugo carries you away to the car, tells the driver to fuck off somewhere while he rails you in the back seat, knowing his men will take care of the rest of what he started inside the warehouse. you straddle his lap, bouncing up and down on his stiff cock as the car rocked back and forth. the car windows fog up as your body heat commingled throughout the space, your hands pressing against the glass to gain to balance as you rode his fat cock. 

“fuck, daddy. you’re so hot when you’re handling business. ooh, you’re dick’s so hard.” you purr, bakugo’s hand pinching and playing with your breast as his hips thrust upwards. He smirks at you, almost a bit shocked you got as turned on as he did from the pain he inflicted.

“hmm, I know baby. god, you’re sick. getting this wet from watching me beat up some punk. dirty fuckin’ girl.” he huffed into your hair, leaving sloppy kisses on your neck followed by harsh nibbles.

truth is even though you were so sweet and caring, you had a dark side no one knew about. I mean why else would you marry into the yakuza? 

you were both fucking insane. 

[ppersonna]

keep me warm - jhs | m

cause you keep me and nice and you keep me warm. wanna feel you on me, can't wait to get back there again - texas sun,  khruangbin

✹ summary- camping is always a great time when you’re with your friends, but even better with your boyfriend, hoseok.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- jung hoseok x reader

✹ word count- 3.9k - she’s a short lil quick dip ;)

✹ genre- smut. lol thats it. cant say there is much plot here besties!!! but there is big brother namjoon, brothers best friend hoseok, established relationship!!!

✹ warnings- explicit smut, cockwarming, dirty talk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be smart pls!), sex in a tent, a little exhibitionism???, fingering, finger sucking, creampie, lil bit of cum play but not really, hoseok is a dirty dirty boy and i love that about him tbh

✹ a/n- helloooo. i’ve been sitting on this and finally finished it!! thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for the sexy banner and beta reading and general support. i was inspired to write this fic when i went camping but pls be warned that sex in a tent is not as sexy as this fic makes it seem 🤕 ILY BESTIES!!! lemme know your thots!!!

The annual Kim Family camp out is an event you haven’t missed since your seventh birthday when you had chicken pox. It’s an outing that has gained notoriety among your friends, a monumental yearly occasion that takes months of prep in advance. What started as a simple camp out with your parents and your older brother Namjoon has become an event with extended friends and family members and significant others involved. Your parents handed down the event to you and your brother, claiming their older age keeps them from being able to keep up with “the youth” for an entire weekend, instead preferring to join for a big cookout dinner, then head back to the comfort of their tempurpedic mattress and functional plumbing back at home.

Not that you minded.

This year was different. Your cousins, Taehyung and Seokjin, would join with Tae’s girlfriend Maggie. Your childhood best friend Jimin would attend as well, bringing along his lover of the month, a tall and leggy brunette. Namjoon invited his best friend Yoongi, who brought along your mutual friend Jungkook. 

And most importantly, 

Jung Hoseok would be there. Your boyfriend.

Hoseok is no stranger to the Kim Family camp out. He’s been attending since he was sixteen after meeting Namjoon in high school jazz band and instantly becoming friends. You can vividly remember the older high school boy making sure you never felt left out in a group of gangly teenagers—bringing you along on hikes, and fishing, and general mischief.

It’s where you first fell for him.

Every year after that, you pined for Hoseok from afar at every outing. You’d lie awake at night in your shared tent with Jimin, desperately wishing the body next to you was Hoseok, wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm in the forest's chill.

Your relationship with Hoseok flourished after high school, when he was unknowingly in your chemistry class in college. Hours were spent pouring over textbooks together, cramming for exams and practice labs with a familiar friend.

Then came the coffee dates, the movie nights, the dinners. Hoseok went from an occasional study buddy to someone you talked to hourly.

The day he kissed you is a day you’ll never forget. 

Soft lips pressing onto yours over a bubbling beaker of magnesium, his hands cupping your cheeks as he drew you in so close, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Be mine,” he whispered. “Please, be mine.”

And you’ve been his ever since.

“Aish! Don’t burn my marshmallow, ___!” Namjoon scolds you, jerking your long stick away from the fire as he sits next to you. “I hate burned marshmallows.”

Annoyance bubbles up in your throat as you roll your eyes at your brother.

“I wouldn’t have to do this for you if you knew how to roast a marshmallow without starting a wildfire.”

Namjoon, ever the strong-headed big brother, glares at you. “That was an accident and you know it.”

Hoseok chuckles beside you, resting a hand on your leg as you murmur expletives about Namjoon and a certain stick under your breath.

“I’ll eat your burned one, babe,” he says with a smile. “I love your burned mallows.”

Hoseok’s charm is a balm to all your wounds. He easily melts the ice around your heart and soothes your frayed nerves with a simple look.

“Thanks, Hobi,” you reply. 

“Please, no talk of my sister’s mallows,” Namjoon winces. “It’s bad enough you’re dating in front of me. In front of my salad.”

Namjoon doesn’t mean it. He knows how deeply you love him, and he trusts Hoseok not to hurt his one and only sibling. But it doesn’t mean he’s not above rubbing it in your face that he was Hoseok’s friend first.

Jungkook laughs from where he’s sitting, roasting a hotdog over the crackling flame on Jimin’s lap (“There weren’t any seats left!”). 

“At least he’s not tossing her salad in front of you.”

Yoongi slaps the younger man’s hotdog out of his hand and into the fire, making Jungkook whine and pout petulantly.

“Don’t be gross,” Yoongi scolds and Namjoon nods at his friend in solidarity.

Hoseok smirks and licks his fingers clean of the sticky marshmallow. “Besides, we didn’t bring nearly enough lube for any anal play tonight.”

“Hoseok!” Namjoon screeches and you bashfully bury yourself into your sweater. The rest of the group explodes in laughter while your brother holds his head in his hands, lamenting the day you two met.

Hoseok pulls you into his lap, grinning as he kisses at your ear while maintaining firm eye contact with your brother, eager to make him as uncomfortable as possible.

While you’re relaxing into the warmth of your boyfriend’s body and enjoying the laughter of all your closest friends, Hoseok nips at your ear and whispers gently.

“I love you.”

“I’m so cold.” A shiver wracks through you as you burrow down deeper into your sleeping bag. The night air becomes increasingly frosty and you can easily see your breath in the dim light from the moon. “It wasn’t supposed to be this cold.”

Hoseok scoots his bag closer to yours, rubbing over the meshy material in an attempt to warm you.

“I thought about bringing another blanket before we left…,” he sighs. “But Namjoon told me I was being ‘a boy scout’.”

You bark out a frigid laugh, teeth chattering as you try to snuggle into the warmth of Hoseok’s hand.

Pleadingly, you ask. “Can we share? Maybe if we zip the sleeping bags together we can make one big extra-large sleeping bag?”

Hoseok nods. “Good idea.”

He quickly gets to work as soon as you unzip your sleeping bag and move off of it, allowing him to take it and zip the two bags together. He spreads it back out over the soft padded bed once it’s completed and he slips into his end before beckoning you over.

“Come to me, my little popsicle.”

The fabric swishes and slides as you move into the combined bag, wrapping your cold limbs around the warmth of your boyfriend’s body.

“Holy shit, you really are cold,” he exclaims with a grunt when your ice-cold hands seek the toasty expanse of his toned belly. “Fuck.”

“Sorry.” Your apology is anything but apologetic as the high temperature of Hoseok’s body quickly oozes into you. “You feel so good.”

A moan slips out of your lips, pleased at the warmth that your boyfriend radiates as you seek every spot on his body that radiates heat. 

“Hold on,” he whispers. 

Quickly, he rids himself of his shirt and tugs at the hem of your own.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You gasp as the icy air billows under your shirt. “Why would I get naked right now?”

He huffs. “Trust me?”

He kisses the pout on your lips, then pulls away with your shirt in his hands.

“Skin-to-skin contact is the easiest way to warm someone up. Body heat, you know. Textbook boy scout stuff.”

He twists your body around to spoon into him, back pressed against his ultra-warm chest, making you gasp once you feel the radiating heat spreading across you.

“Oh…” you sigh as you sink into his embrace. “You were right.”

Hoseok smirks as he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the nape of your neck—lips pressing gentle, warm kisses to the column below your ear.

“Told you so.”

Your body instinctively presses further into his body, desperate for the warmth that the human-heater seems to emit. His breath hitches as he feels your ass press hard against his lap, cock stirring at the proximity.

Hoseok’s hands run up and down your arms, warming each inch of your skin with his palms. He spreads heat wherever he touches, and your eyes flutter closed as he works his gentle, warming massage into your frozen skin. He is the epitome of sunshine, both in body and demeanor, always able to brighten the coldest chills with one look, one touch. 

When he’s satisfied that you’re thoroughly warmed where he’s worked, his hands move from your arms and shoulders around to your belly and up to your chest. You feel like mush under his grazing touch, gasping and biting your lip as he tugs gently at your perky nipple. It’s a live wire to his cock. 

“Fuck,” he groans as he feels himself harden. He kisses at your shoulder as he continues to palm at your chest, taking the fullness of your breasts into his whole hand and massaging it gently.

“Hobi…” you warn, feeling the desire between your thighs build. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

He chuckles against your skin, breathing hot air over your neck and shoulder, tightening his grip on your nipple for a quick pinch that makes you squeak.

“Who says we can’t finish?”

His voice is low—that deep, sensual tone that sets your tummy aflame with desire. His dick is pressed against your ass, twitching with need as it thickens in his pants.

His hand moves from your chest, rubbing soft, sweet circles on your stomach as he warms the cool flesh around your belly button, before traveling down to where your sleeping pants sit low on your hips.

“We c-can’t,” you meekly attempt to fight back, remain strong, but the warmth of his body and the need growing within you is quickly winning your internal battle of morality. “My cousin is next to us.”

Hoseok smirks as he slips underneath your pants, hand diving in between your thighs to rub at your soft mound. He’s close, so close to slipping inside of you, and you squeeze your eyes tight at the overwhelming urgency you’re feeling for his fingers inside you.

“You think Tae and Maggie are fast asleep right now?” He asks. 

As if on cue, you hear soft giggles coming from the next tent over, giggles that sound suspiciously like Taehyung’s girlfriend.

“Tae is really not that funny,” Hoseok says as he nibbles at your ear. “Let me warm you, baby.”

He seeks your consent, desperate to make you feel good but not willing to further his actions. 

“Mmm, maybe just a little more.”

His fingers seek purchase further, finally diving into your folds. He gasps into your ear as he feels how wet you’ve become from his ministrations, stroking gently up and down your slick slit and circling over your clit.

“Fuck, look at you,” he nearly whines into your ear. “So wet for me.”

“Please, Hobi,” you whimper. You’re not sure what you’re begging for, what you need, but all you want is for him to not stop, never stop. 

“You want me to keep going, don’t you?” He asks, teasingly circling the pad of his finger on your swollen clit. 

Unable to use your words, you nod. The light pressure on your clit has your thighs trembling and Hoseok thrills at the palpable desperation you’re feeling.

“Are you going to be quiet for me?” He asks, slowly moving his finger down before breaching into your channel. “Can’t be waking up the entire camp.”

Using your hand, you clamp over your mouth as your boyfriend's finger fucks into your hole, slowly and achingly gentle but with purpose. A shiver runs down his spine as he watches you try to hold yourself back. You’re not normally quiet—he makes it his mission to get you to whine and cry and yell his name as loud as he can when you’re at home. But the thrill of keeping you quiet while he sinks himself into you makes his body hum with want.

“Good girl,” he cooes as he introduces another finger inside you, scissoring you open with his lengthy digits. “Better stay quiet for me or I won’t let you cum.”

He quickly removes his fingers from your channel, making you whine behind your hand, which he silences with a soft tut.

“No complaining. Be good.”

He continues his journey to disrobe you, sliding off your pants and panties. He throws them to the other side of the tent where your luggage lies, no care about you wearing them the rest of the night. He follows suit with his own pants, swiftly pulling the material off his legs and allowing his throbbing cock to spring free. You desperately want to touch it, feel it in your hands and in your mouth, but he keeps you facing away from him, cock fully out of your reach.

“Such a perfect little ass,” he murmurs to himself as he admires your backside before sliding back into the big spoon position. The feeling of his hot, hard length against your bare ass makes you mewl with desire, teasingly rubbing against it.

“Fuck, Hobi,” you gasp as he slips his hands back to the apex of your thighs, scissoring into you again and warming his icy fingers in the heat of your cunt. 

“Shhh,” he reminds. “Let me give your mouth something to do, yeah?”

He pulls his dripping fingers from within your walls and brings them to your mouth. You eagerly open wide, obedient and desperate for something to take your mind off the growing neediness your body is throbbing with.

Watching you suck your own wet slick off his fingers makes Hoseok’s cock ache with need. The tip is weeping with pre-cum, as if crying out to bury itself within your walls and never retreat. It twitches as your tongue swirls over his digits, teasing him and reminding him how well you can suck his cock.

“Shit, baby,” he gasps. “I’m going to bust right now if you’re not careful.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and uses the spit-slick hand to lift your leg enough for him to line his cock up at your hole.

“You want to warm my cock for me, baby?” He nips at your shoulder as he rubs the bulbous head along your slit. “God, I want to be in this pretty little cunt all night. Can you keep me warm tonight?”

“P-please, baby,” you gasp as the tip prods at your entrance, threatening to breach. He preemptively moves his free hand back to your mouth, covering it gently to help keep your noisy mouth muffled. 

“Such a polite girl.” Hoseok’s lips skim over your neck and ear, nibbling at your lobe as he finally, blessedly, spears himself into you. 

“Fuuuck,” he whines as he drops his forehead against your soft hair, shuddering as he buries himself to the hilt. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Nothing compares to the feeling of Hoseok sinking himself into you. It’s like the first time, every time. He clings to you desperately, as if he wants to bury his entire self in between your thighs and never retreat. Being connected to your boyfriend like this, not knowing where he ends and you begin, is the most dazzling aspect of sex. Your heart beats in overtime, breath short and heavy, as he holds you like you’re his only worthy possession in life.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t withdraw his cock and plunge back into you like his body is begging him to. He wants nothing more than to roll you onto your stomach and fuck you until you’re screaming his name for the entire national forest to hear, but he doesn’t. 

“Mmm, Hobi, please,” you whine against his palm, kitten licking the flesh there to encourage him to move. It almost works, almost spurs him into action, but he remains flush against you and unmoving.

“Just trying to keep you warm, baby,” he teases. “Skin-to-skin contact.”

He can feel your body tense and shake around him, core tightening as you’re desperate to feel the friction you desire. It makes Hoseok nearly growl into your ear, clutching you tighter in his grasp.

“Now you want to fuck me?” He teases into your ear. “I thought you were tired?”

A pathetic whimper is the only response you can muster. You’re desperate for more, aching for his thick cock to thrust in and out of you. His hand slips down your body, caressing each inch of your skin before landing on your clit, circling the nub teasingly.

“I bet you could cum like this,” he breathes as he slowly swirls his finger. “With my cock stuffed inside you.”

He’s right—your body is already reacting to the stimulation and you can feel your body clenching around his unmoving length deep inside you. It’s prodding you in just the right spot that makes you keen, core desperate for some movement. His added touch makes you whine into his palm still covering your mouth.

“That’s right, baby,” he praises as he bites at your earlobe. “Such a needy little pussy, so desperate for me you could cum just from feeling me inside you.”

The pressure rises, stomach tightening as you feel your body near the edge of bliss. You can feel your thighs trembling as Hoseok whispers and nibbles at your ear, fingers working your clit with just the right rhythm to make you see stars.

His finger swirls with delicate speed, playing you like the nimble musician he is.

“Look at you, I’ve only started using my fingers and you’re already about to cum for me.”

Holding back your desperate moans, your eyes nearly roll back in their sockets as you feel your body build closer and closer to the blissful end that it craves. Having him buried deep inside you with none of the delicious friction is driving you crazy, and the speed of his fingers on your clit makes you keen for anything he can give you. You’re so close, so *fucking close* to your climax that your vision blurs.

Suddenly, the telltale sound of another tent zipper opening rips through the relative silence of the campground and Hoseok stills his finger on you.

“Shhh,” he warns, lifting his head to listen carefully. 

The sound comes from your left, Jungkook’s tent, and you squeeze your eyes tight and whimper into Hoseok’s palm at the ache in your belly. Jungkook stumbles around the campground before he makes his way out, and Hoseok smirks as the footsteps get quieter.

“That was close, baby,” he says as his finger teases over your throbbing clit. “We don’t want Jungkookie to find his friend like this, don’t we?”

You shake your head, body trembling as his finger provides not-enough stimulation on your tortured clit.

He keeps quiet and continues his feather-light touch, pleased at the unexpected orgasm denial and the way it makes your cunt clench around his cock as if coaxing it to give you what you need most.

“You better not be loud,” he warns. “You don’t want to ruin our fun, right?”

Agonizing moments later, Jungkook’s footsteps return and he zips himself back into his tent and quickly heads back to sleep. He remains stilled inside you, listening intently for any sounds of the others awakening.

After minutes of desperate silence and your needy cunt aching for your boyfriend to move, he rolls you onto your stomach with him on top, cock still buried deep within you.

“You’ve done so well,” he praises as he leans down and licks a fat stripe on the back of your neck, making you shiver. “Take your reward like a good girl.”

Without warning, Hoseok grips at your hips and starts a brutal pace, fucking you fast and hard while staying quiet. It feels so good, better than the feeling of him being still inside you. Nothing can compare to his thickness spearing into you, stretching you wide. The ridges of his cock feel like heaven from the position he has you in, and you can feel the stimulation building upon your ruined, curtailed orgasm from earlier.

He quickly rams a piece of the sleeping bag into your mouth, forcing you to be quiet as he nearly impales you open, burying himself as deep into your womb as he can before retreating and thrusting in for more. You can tell he’s close by the way his movements lose finesse, the way his hands grip your thick hips as if he’s grasping a lifeline. 

“Gonna fill you up,” Hoseok whispers harshly, his voice taking on the rough edge that makes your body react. “You want my cum, baby?”

Your mouth is full, but your head nods quickly and you arch your back to let him reach even deeper inside of you, desperate to get yourself and him off simultaneously.

“Shit,” he groans as he feels your body accept him even further at this new angle, your ass high in the air. He grips it, enjoys the way the flesh jiggles in his grip and with each thrust. “Cum on my cock, baby, please.”

Hoseok doesn’t beg, hardly ever, so when he’s desperate for your release, you’re equally desperate to give it to him. As he pounds into you, taking full advantage of your prone body and lifted hips, the dam holding back your climax finally erupts, making your walls quiver and squeeze around his cock and forcing you to bury your face as far as you can into your sleeping bag to muffle your whines.

He wishes he could hear your screams, wants to hear the way you cry his name out as your cunt milks him, begs him for his own end. Another round of thrusts and he feels it all snap, cock pulsing out hot spurts of cum into your eager and waiting channel.

He pulls out of you, loving the way his cum follows him out, dribbling out of your spent pussy weakly. He lifts a finger and scoops it up, pushing it back into your juicy walls and nearly whining as he feels it wet and sopping with his release. You’re pulling the sleeping bag from your mouth, panting hard from your own release and turning around to look at your boyfriend, hips wiggling.

Hoseok smiles fondly at you, removing his finger from your walls and rubbing the smooth skin of your ass.

“Are you warm?” He asks with a smirk, knowing by the sheen of sweat on both of your bodies that you’ve successfully warmed up in the bite of the chilly night.

He flops down beside you and pulls you in close, snuggling into the sleeping bag while kissing your face gently.

Hoseok’s cock is still hard, still aching even after a release and you’re quick to grasp it in your hands, finally getting a grip on it for the first time tonight.

“Better keep you warm all night like I promised, huh?” You smile sleepily as you lift your leg to allow him entrance to your center yet again. “Keep me full all night please, baby?”

He is loath to deny you, and the wet heat of your used pussy feels like heaven. He holds you closer, pulls you in tight as he buries his cock as far as he can go, before kissing you sweetly once more.

He knows he’ll wake up in a few hours, dick throbbing with a need to take you for yet another round, but for now, he revels in the warmth and love and safety he feels when he’s connected to you in nearly every way.

“By the way, I love you too, Hoseok,” you whisper to him after a few moments of silence, recalling to the sweet whispered words around the campfire.

Hoseok smiles as he closes his eyes, body and soul in pure bliss.

And when Namjoon complains in the morning that he could hear the sounds of his little sister getting railed, Hoseok will let him know he ensured you didn’t suffer from hypothermia—that it’s his job as boyfriend to ensure you’re kept safe,

and always kept warm.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))

@karlkitten @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @little-gremlin-in-the-walls @tinyegg @mintmochiii @clubfairy @aroyaldarknessblr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg @rat-poisin @alm334 @cdizzlevalntyne @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity

[cherienymphe]

Gangsta’s Paradise (Michael Gray x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON BORDERLINE NON-CON, blackmail, loss of virginity, (for the sake of this fic let’s pretend that Finn Cole is taller than what he is okay)

! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !

➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: an agreement with the Peaky Blinders is almost a done deal...until you catch the eye of Michael Gray. You’re suddenly thrust into the equation, and your father must decide between losing everything or losing you.

~

Soft lips brushed over your bare shoulder, even softer hands guiding the strap of your slip down your arm, fingers dancing along your skin. Despite the cold weather outside, your room was sweltering, and you pinned it onto the man behind you...the man who was currently unwrapping you like a gift. With fear coursing through your frame, you realized that in a way, you were a gift. A pretty little gift given to the big bad gangster in exchange for resources and protection and whatever else your family needed.

Your eyes fell closed, and you thought back to the day where your father’s desperation had first begun. Desperation that you had ultimately underestimated.

You had been nervous as you tended to the dishes that day, glancing at the clock every now and then. Cleaning and tidying up was how you coped, how you attempted to calm yourself. It normally worked, but today was an exception. Looking around, you realized that there was nothing else to clean, and with a sigh, you leaned against the wall, biting your lip.

The rest of the family had gone to Birmingham. They’d gone to handle...business, and you being the only girl in the family since your mom died, you weren’t allowed to have a hand in the business. It had been a great deal of bitterness for you for years, ever since you were old enough to understand what was really going on, but now you had gradually accepted your father’s reasoning.

Your father and brother and uncles had left early, taking some of their best men with them. You knew they only did that for serious matters, and you had been worried ever since you saw them leave. You had scrubbed the house from top to bottom, and now you had nothing to do but wait. It was fortunate that you didn’t have to wait for much longer, hearing several cars come down the driveway.

No one greeted you when you opened the door, faces pinched and sullen, and you knew then that things didn’t go as expected. The only one to acknowledge you was your father, the older man pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before trudging inside with the rest. You swallowed, conflicted on whether or not you should say anything, but your worry got the best of you.

“How did it go?”

Before your father could answer, you heard your brother slam his hand into the wall, the pictures shaking from the force.

“Peaky fucking Blinders,” he spat, and your blood ran cold.

Your eyes met your father’s, and he gave you a look as if to say leave it alone, but you were in shock. You had never imagined that your family would start doing business with the likes of them. Everyone had heard of them, knew who they were and what they did, and the thought of your family being involved with them in any way was a terrifying one.

Everything those men touched turned to poison

“Father,” you had chided as soon as you walked into his office moments later.

From behind his desk, he held a hand up, the other pressed to his forehead as he sighed.

“Not now, Y/N,” he said, sounding tired.

“You promised that things would be different,” you whispered, ignoring his words. “You told me that we would start becoming legitimate, legal. That we’d start doing things right.”

“Y/N-.”

“You promised.”

He slammed his hand down onto the wood, making you wince.

“They’ve got their hand in every cookie jar that matters. Thomas Shelby is a political man, now-.”

You cut him off with a scoff, folding your arms over your chest.

“Only a fool would get mixed up with the likes of them.”

He shot you a scathing look, and you swallowed, looking away with a sigh.

“We need their influence, their resources...their allyship.”

Your eyes widened at this, realizing that your father intended for much more than a one time business deal.

“You can’t be serious,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond right away, simply heaving a sigh before turning his attention to the paperwork before him.

“I will do my best to keep you away from all this, but prepare yourself for seeing a lot more of them, eh?”

He didn’t say anything more, and when it became apparent that that was the end of the discussion, you turned and left. You could hear your brothers and uncles murmuring in the kitchen, going over the day’s events, no doubt, and you made your way upstairs. You never knew exactly what it was that your father sold, but you figured that drugs and alcohol was the gist of it. He’d been in the business for a long time, and he’d made a promise to you that he was going to put a stop to it. That he’d start making money the right way.

Getting mixed up with the Shelbys, the Peaky Blinders, was not the way to go about it.

You understood the appeal though. They had power, resources, influence. With them as an ally, people would think twice about screwing your family over...but was it worth it? Was it worth the increase in violence? Putting the family in the kind of danger you could never even imagine? Was it worth the devastation and death that seemed to follow them like a plague? The answer was simple.

No.

Your father didn’t seem to care about any of that though. Day in and day out, for weeks, you watched your family leave early in the day and return late in the evening, looking more irritated than they did the previous day. It was safe to say that negotiations with the Peaky Blinders was not going as expected. The frustration and annoyance was plain as day on your father’s features, and even though nary a word was uttered to you about anything, you could feel the tension mounting in the air.

The first time you actually met someone of the infamous family, it was a Wednesday. It was a rare day within the past few weeks in which your father was at the house. He had been holed up in his study all day when there was a knock on the door. You had blinked in confusion, trying to recall if your father had mentioned anything about company, but you had only just begun to move when you heard your father’s heavy footsteps traveling down the hallway.

“Stay back.”

Normally you would have argued against him, especially with a tone as harsh as his had been, but something in his voice made you listen. There was something in his eyes, something in the way he walked that made you understand the severity of the situation. You remained in the living room, listening as your father answered the door, unfamiliar voices eventually joining his.

Two men who you’d never seen before joined him in the hallway, standing between the kitchen and living room. You had slowly put your book down, story long forgotten at the sight of the strangers, and your movement caught their attention. Both of them were wearing hats and long coats, but you could still tell that their hair was dark. The lankier of the two was a bit taller, a mustache adorning his face while the other moved a toothpick around between his lips, a faint smirk crawling onto his face at the sight of you.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” the taller one greeted, and you quietly returned the greeting.

Your father cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable.

“Arthur, John...this is my daughter, Y/N. She likes to look after the house when I’m gone.”

It was the truth. After your mother’s death, the house was where you felt most comfortable, and you were more than happy to lock yourself in its walls. Especially while the rest of your family ventured out.

“Darling, this is John and Arthur Shelby. I’ve been doing some business with them, remember?”

You fought the urge to sneer at your father, keeping your gaze on the strangers in your home instead.

“Of course. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said with a tense smile.

Knowing you so well, your father could recognize the displeasure on your face, and if the other men before you noticed it too, they didn’t speak on it. You watched as they followed your father upstairs to his study, the younger of the two tipping his hat to you before departing. You remained there for a time before slowly exhaling, turning to make your way outside. You paid no mind to how long they stayed, spending the rest of your day away outside in your garden. Your mother always kept one, and you had done the same since she died.

That was the first of the few times you ran across Arthur and John Shelby. They were the only two that ever came by the house, greeting you with tipped hats and secretive smiles. You had grown somewhat used to their presence and faces, but not enough to be completely comfortable around them. You didn’t meet the rest of them, didn’t meet him, until weeks later.

“What?” you had breathed, staring at your father in disbelief. 

You watched as he rubbed his forehead, face pinched and eyes clouded over, telling you that he disliked this as much as you did.

“You’ll come to the next meeting with us,” he repeated, and you let out a sharp breath.

So you had heard him correctly.

“...why?” you eventually asked, sounding much calmer than you actually were.

“I know you hate them, but those Shelbys do have some morals about them. Things have been rather tense lately. It seems that we just can’t come to an agreement,” he sighed out, leaning against his desk. “...and I fear that things could become...rowdy.”

He didn’t continue, but you were smart enough to guess where this was going. When the realization hit you, your heart dropped, and you stared at your father like he was a stranger. The man you knew, the man your mother had married, would’ve wanted you as far away from any business dealings as possible. Somehow, the very same man was standing before you and suggesting…

“You think my presence at the meeting will make them behave...make them think twice about doing anything...violent,” you murmured, more to yourself than him.

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to, and you clenched your jaw.

“...and if it doesn’t-?”

“It will,” he argued.

“...but if it doesn’t…” you repeated with more force. “...then what? What will you do if they bring out the guns and razor blades right there? What will you do if they decide to use me to make you agree to their terms?”

Your father was silent, and you stepped towards him, eyes pleading.

“What will you do then?”

You watched as he straightened, standing to his full height as he looked down his nose at you. It was like you were looking at a completely different person, someone who wasn’t like your father at all. As you eyed him, you could see the stress on his face, the strain in his muscles, the conflict in his eyes. You’d had your suspicions that your family’s business with the Peaky Blinders was more serious than you could’ve imagined, but the toll it was clearly taking on your father confirmed it.

Even if you didn’t agree with what was going on, how your father went about getting what he so clearly needed and wanted, it was obvious that this was important to him. Since the death of your mother, very few things brought your father happiness. Very few things even halfway satisfied him, and hoping that this would, shoulders sagging with defeat, you agreed.

This was how you found yourself seated beside your father at none other than The Garrison. The pub was empty of any patrons or staff, only those important to the meeting present. Thomas Shelby, the man himself, was seated across from your father. He was as intimidating as you always believed he’d be, smooth voice having done nothing to calm you when he introduced himself.

John and Arthur, the two you were familiar with, were on his right while two more men by the name of Isaiah and Finn were on his left. They were one short in comparison to your father, his two brothers, your two brothers, and yourself, but an empty chair told you that one more was on their way. Seeing that the meeting had already begun, you deduced that their tardiness wasn’t a concern. Considering the nature of the meeting, a whole bunch of words that could be summed up into “who controls what”, you envied the mystery person’s absence. 

For minutes now, you had contributed nothing, but then again… That wasn’t your purpose. No, the purpose of your presence was to keep the men in line. Your entire purpose was to play on what few morals the men had, and you fought to hold in a laugh. With every member of your family being armed, you wondered if your father even believed this would work. Too busy stewing over how your father had purposely put you in harm’s way, you didn’t take notice of the pub door opening.

You were only pulled from your thoughts when the sound of footsteps finally registered. Considering that your back was to the door, you couldn’t see their face, and you didn’t want to appear nosey or unprofessional or draw attention to yourself in any way really by turning to look. You only glanced up when he finally came into your line of sight, and you observed him in the same manner that you did all the others.

Something about him reminded you of Thomas, but his features were much softer, not so harsh. However, that made him no less intimidating. He wasn’t sporting a hat, dark hair neatly pushed away from his face, and something about him was different from the rest. On his own, he didn’t look like he belonged with the rest of them, and as Thomas explained that he was their chief accountant, you got the feeling that that was purposely done. He introduced the man as Michael Gray, his cousin, and losing interest once again, you looked away.

You played with your fingers beneath the table, wanting to desperately be anywhere but here. You had a feeling that you’d get your wish very soon, taking note of the change in tone in your father’s voice. He sounded happier, relieved, and you glanced up at him, his relief contagious. As you did so, your eyes briefly connected with that of the newcomer, Michael, and you quickly looked away. Even still, you could feel the weight of his stare, and you reluctantly returned it.

He didn’t look the least bit ashamed at having been caught, bringing his cigarette up to his lips, a thick coil of smoke escaping them moments later. His face was hard to read, and you felt yourself frowning slightly. You blinked, eyes trailing to your brother on your father’s other side, but he seemed invested in the meeting. Everyone seemed to be...everyone but you and the man named Michael.

When your eyes met his again, it was just in time to watch him lean over, lips at his cousin’s ear as he whispered something to him. His gaze held yours the entire time. You glanced around again, feeling as if there was a meeting within a meeting going on, and you were the only one to notice. Brushing off the unease you felt, you sat back in your chair, eyes on the table. It was hard to ignore the heavy gaze that pinned you to your seat, but you fought to manage.

Especially since it seemed that an agreement was finally being made.

However, that sinking feeling in your chest traveled to your gut, settling there as you watched John move to whisper something to Thomas. The man, the leader of this great gang, paused for the briefest of moments. It happened so quickly, and John was back in his seat as if nothing had happened, and while Thomas’ words did not falter, the way his eyes briefly flickered to you had you straightening in your seat.

Your eyes fell onto the blue-eyed newcomer again, and he took another drag of his cigarette. Every single one of them wore smug expressions, from the first moment you’d been introduced to every individual man, you noticed that they all looked as if they owned the world. Michael Gray was no different, but the way he looked at you made you want to be as far away from here as possible. As more tendrils of smoke left his pink lips, you noted that he didn’t look at you like he just owned the world. He looked at you like he owned you too.

“Everything does seem to be in order, but...there is another matter I think we should discuss,” you heard Thomas Shelby say.

You looked to him, watching as he stood, his family following his lead and your family following theirs. You tightened your coat around you as Thomas gestured for your father to follow him into the back. His absence made you nervous, but you simply stepped closer to your brother as you watched him follow the other man.

“Let’s wait outside,” your brother said, and eager to be out of here, you hastily agreed.

Your other brother remained inside with your uncles while you followed Matthew, the middle child of you three, outside. 

“You alright?” he asked you as soon as you were in the fresh air. “You looked a bit tense in there.”

You watched him light a smoke, and you glanced away.

“The other one...the cousin, Michael… How much do you know about him?”

Matthew shrugged, exhaling.

“Not much. Doesn’t say much at the meetings, mostly handles the money,” he told you.

That did little to ease you.

“Why…?”

You were just about to tell him the reason for your curiosity when the door to The Garrison came flying open. You watched in shock as your father came storming out, your other brother and uncles hot on his tail.

“What’s going on?” Matthew asked, just as alarmed as you were.

Instead of an answer, your father simply grabbed your arm, and yanked you along. You almost tripped over your feet, and you looked at your father like he’d lost his mind. His face was clouded over, eyes thunderous, and you wondered what had happened in such a short time.

“What-?”

“Quiet,” he hissed, sounding the angriest you’d ever heard him, and your eyes widened at this.

“...but-.”

“I said quiet! Get in the car,” he spat.

He didn’t give you a chance to listen, opting for shoving you inside himself. Your foot was barely inside when he slammed the door shut, and you stared at the window in shock. Matthew joined you and your father in the car while the rest piled into the other vehicle. Your confusion only grew as the car roared to life, and you glanced up then to rest your eyes on a familiar face.

He leaned against the door to the pub, a fresh cigarette held between his lips as he lit it. His blue eyes were focused entirely on you, even as the smoke clouded his view and your father began to drive off, he didn’t appear to be interested in anything else but your trembling frame.

You sat at the dining table in shock, listening to the muffled sound of your father’s angry voice that traveled from his study. He was in there with the rest of the family, and he’d been in there for hours. He had barely looked at you when you all came home, heading straight for his office as he ordered the rest of the family inside. There was an unspoken agreement that that did not include you.

Still, the uneasiness from the meeting remained. You could still feel the heated gaze of the blue-eyed man, smell the smoke that drifted from his lips, see the way he watched you as he whispered to John. You could see the way Thomas had looked at you as John whispered to him, and this was what made you press your ear to your father’s study door hours earlier. This was what drove your curiosity to discover just what happened when you and your brother left.

“He wants her,” your father had forced out, sounding like he was going to be sick.

There was a long pause, and you had frowned in confusion.

“Who?” your other brother, Nathaniel, had eventually asked.

“The Gray kid! Polly’s son,” he spat as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He wants her.”

You could hear your father’s heavy breaths, hear him pacing, and the confirmation that the discussion was about Michael Gray did nothing to quell your confusion. The silence that followed was loud and heavy, something unspoken in the air that you had yet to understand.

“...what?” you heard one of your uncles murmur.

Your father heaved a sigh, sounding much calmer now.

“They are...prepared to meet us more than halfway if we let him have her,” he slowly said. “Everything we’ve been working towards, everything we’ve been yearning for… It could be ours in a matter of hours if we let him have her.”

“No!”

Nathaniel’s voice could be heard before your father even finished.

“Absolutely not-.”

“Nathaniel…”

“You’re not considering this...are you? Father…”

“They’ve given us the day to think it over-.”

“What is there to think about? She’s our sister, your daughter, not some whore on the street,” Matthew interrupted, his words making you freeze.

Bile threatened to spill from your lips as you stared at the door, slowly backing away, their voices becoming less clear as you did so. Your back was pressed to the wall as the truth settled over you, and you suddenly felt foolish for failing to put it together sooner. Your stomach swirled, fear settling into your bones, and before you knew it, your head was in the commode, expelling everything you’d eaten that day. The tears had come shortly after, and that was how Matthew found you hours later, sitting at the table with tears in your eyes.

“I know you heard,” he said, sitting across from you.

You hesitantly looked up at him as he poured a glass of whiskey.

“You never could keep your nose out of things. Told you years ago to stop listening in on father’s conversations-.”

“Well, I’m glad I did this time,” you tearfully spat.

Matthew sighed, sliding the glass towards you.

“I think you deserve it tonight,” he said as you threw him an odd look.

Your shoulders sagged, and you gratefully accepted it, scrunching your face up at the strong taste that hit your tongue. The both of you sat there in silence for a while, listening to your father’s muffled voice, and you took another sip.

“What’s he going to do?”

Your fear must have been evident because his hand rested on yours on the table.

“Hey...he’s not going to agree, alright? He would never…”

You shook your head before he even finished, sniffling as you took another sip.

“I don’t know, Matthew. I don’t know,” you breathed.

Your eyes met his, and he frowned at you.

“These past few months or so… He’s been different, and you know it. He’s made deals before, but it’s different this time. Everything he’s ever wanted is so close. It’s different this time, and you know it, Matthew.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. You both knew that it was different this time, and you shuddered to think about what tomorrow would bring.

The next day came and went, much to your relief, and although you were glad that your father didn’t give into the Peaky Blinders, into what they wanted from you...what he wanted from you, it was still an unacknowledged elephant in the room. They still left the house for business, but you didn’t know if it was with the Blinders or not. You shuddered to think of how that conversation went when your father refused their offer. 

You got the feeling that they weren’t used to not getting their way.

It was three nights later, three nights since that fateful meeting in which you’d caught the eye of Michael Gray, that you left your room to get a glass of water. The house was dark and quiet, an unusual sight seeing as at least one brother was usually up late in the kitchen, drinking or having a smoke. That wasn’t the sight that greeted you.

The kitchen was empty of anyone else, and you drank your water slowly. You hoped that things would be better now. You recalled how relieved your father had looked over the past few days, how much softer his features looked, and you desperately hoped that it was because the family was finally on the right track. You made your way back into the hall, glass pressed to your lips, when you paused.

The only light in the living room came from the moon, it’s rays bleeding through the windows and onto the furniture. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to take note of the shape that didn’t belong. The shape of a man. Light flooded the room, and all of your breath left you, glass shattering at your feet.

You stared at him in shock, taking in everything from his neat hair to his shiny dark shoes. He was dressed much like he was the first day you met him, a dark grey almost black looking suit hugging his frame. He leaned back in your father’s chair, nursing a glass of Brandy, and it was then that you realized he’d been here for a while.

“Father!”

It was instinctual now, how your father was the first person you ran to. He didn’t respond, and you called for him again, cutting yourself off when a smirk slowly danced along Michael’s lips. Your mind whirled, and dread filled you.

“What are you doing in my house? Where is my father?”

A small chuckle escaped him, eyes twinkling with mirth as he slowly pulled out a cigarette. 

“What do you think I’m doing here, love?”

Your entire body froze, the implication behind his words clear, and you shook your head. You called for Matthew...then Nathaniel...then your uncles and your father again. The only thing that met you was silence, and your throat felt incredibly thick all of a sudden. The weight of your predicament fully settled over you, and you slowly shook your head.

“No,” you breathed in disbelief. “...no.”

The man before you didn’t respond, simply pressing the cigarette between his lips, reaching in his pockets for a light, no doubt.

“I don’t believe you.”

That was what you said, what your lips formed, but your heart and your head didn’t agree. Something didn’t feel right from the moment you woke up, and a part of you that you desperately wished would shut up did believe him. 

“Do you really think your father would allow anyone into his home without his knowledge or permission?”

You watched him pull a drag, smoke filling the air, and you stumbled back, running for the door. You didn’t hear him behind you, and for that you were relieved, but your relief was short lived. Upon swinging the door open, you were met with the sight of John and Arthur Shelby dawdling in your driveway. They appeared to be having a conversation when you opened the door, their voices abruptly cutting off at your appearance. John simply smirked at you from around the smoke in his mouth, Arthur tipping his hat towards you.

“‘Ello, sweetheart.”

With a shriek, you slammed the door shut in their faces, chest heaving with uneven breaths as the situation fully resonated with you. You stumbled back further into the hallway, and Michael was still in the same place as before, nursing a cigarette as you fought to figure out a way out of this.

“You can’t...you can’t do this,” you eventually murmured, glaring at him.

Michael simply fixed you with an even stare, smoke escaping from his nose, the cigarette dancing between his fingers.

“I’m a Peaky Blinder, love. I can do whatever I want.”

He said it with so much conviction that you knew he believed it, and the longer you stared at him, the more you believed it too. You warily glanced around, telling yourself that you might actually have to fight this man, might have to fight to protect what your father had wrongly given away. Even though part of you denied it, you slowly accepted that Michael was telling the truth. Despite the fact that your family’s business and even lives were at stake, your father had no right to trade away what didn’t belong to him.

Michael’s eyes never left you as you stood there, and you finally looked to him again when he cleared his throat. The cigarette rested between his lips as he slipped out of his jacket, and you swallowed at the dark look in his eyes. He took another drag.

“Before you do...whatever it is that you’re about to do…”

He parted his mouth, the smoke swirling in there for a bit before pressing his lips together, tendrils escaping his nose.

“You should know that I’ve shot men in the head with no hesitation. I drug my blade across a man’s throat once and reveled in the taste of his blood on my lips.”

You flinched, taking a step back.

“When Tommy first tried to scare me away, threaten to send me back to the village in which I grew up… I told him about a well there, that I’d blow it up with dynamite if he made me go back...didn’t care if my hands went with it.”

He finished his cigarette, putting the rest of it out, eyes boring into yours as he slowly exhaled the smoke he’d been holding in.

“I just knew it’d be worth it to see those pretty white bricks all over that pretty village green...and I meant every word of that.”

You didn’t respond, and his blue eyes slowly dragged over every part of you, taking you in from your hair all the way to your bare feet, lingering on the thin nightgown in between.

“It’s something about the violence, you see.”

His words unnerved you, and he continued.

“The violence, the blood...the fight...it does something to me. Gets me excited, all riled up, so please…”

He gestured towards you, eyes glinting with something that made your heart stop.

“Do fight back, hit me even… It’ll just make me want to fuck you that much harder.”

The tears finally skipped down your cheeks, and you stumbled back as he stood to his full height. With a shaky breath, you staggered up the stairs, running to the last room at the end of the hall, a guest room. You were quick to pull the window up, looking down below in worry. It was high up, that was for sure, but the alternative was worse.

Before you could even get a foot out, warm hands pressed into your stomach, pulling you back against a broad chest. A startled scream left your lips, and Michael’s hands traveled to your arms, fingers pressed into your skin as he held you tight. You leaned your head away from him as he pressed his face into your neck, breathing you in.

“Your father made a big mistake bringing you around us, eh?”

You couldn’t will your lips to move, too paralyzed with fear and nerves and anxiety for the unknown. The way he touched you was foreign, the scent that clung to him, a mix of cologne and expensive liquor and cigarettes, was foreign. The creeping sensation that blanketed your body was foreign. All of this was foreign, and more tears pooled within your eyes as the inevitable drew closer.

“He thought you’d keep us in line, keep us on leashes...but ever since I saw you, the only thing I wanted to do was take you like a fucking animal.”

You jerked in his hold, fighting to get away from him, but Michael tsk’d. 

“Let’s not spoil this, hmm? You seem like a good girl...if you catch my drift.”

More tears fell at his words, and he hummed.

“You do. You strike me as a well behaved lady of the house...and you girls like for this to be special, yeah? All gentle and loving,” he slowly mocked as he forced you towards the bed.

He shoved you onto it, knees pressing down on either side of you soon after, preventing you from going anywhere. Your tears soaked the sheet, and Michael’s fingers ghosted over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I want you to look at me as I fuck you.”

He gently turned you over onto your back, and you stared up at the man before you. Even in the darkness, you could see the blue of his eyes perfectly. They were bright and filled with a hunger that scared you, a hunger you had never been on the receiving end of before. Michael leaned over you, caging you beneath him as he pressed his forehead to yours, soon followed by his lips.

You’d kissed men before, but they were soft sweet nothings that could barely be called a kiss. You knew that if you wanted to marry well, contribute something of substance to your family, you had to be smart about your actions...your reputation. All of the men, realizing that you weren’t going to give them what they wanted, left. Accepting that your family and reputation came first, they always left, and it hurt every single time. 

But it will be worth it.

That’s what you constantly told yourself. After every heartbreak, every sneer, every harsh insult thrown your way about what a frigid bitch you were, you told yourself that it would be worth it. And yet...here you were...beneath a gangster, having your reputation ripped away from you by a man who stole and murdered and wasn’t decent in any way.

Life was funny.

After slipping out of his shirt, the flimsy material floating somewhere behind him, Michael guided your hands to his chest. Your trembling fingers danced along his taut skin, taking note of an imperfection. An old bullet wound, you deduced. The dark-haired man groaned into your mouth, pressing into you, and you could feel him hard beneath his trousers. The reality of what was about to happen seemed to slink around your neck like a noose, and you didn’t even realize that you’d started panting until Michael’s hand found your neck.

“I-I can’t- I can’t do this-.”

He shushed you, kissing you again.

“Behave...and I’ll be good to you. Breathe,” he urged.

You slowly did as he suggested, squeezing your eyes shut as his other hand pushed the smooth material of your nightgown up your legs. One hand was still on your throat as that same hand traveled to his pants, the sound of his zipper deafening in the quiet room. Your whole body went numb for a moment, ears ringing and vision blurring, and when you finally came back to earth, Michael’s hips were pressing against yours, nothing in between you.

He was speaking to you, you noted.

“...what?” you murmured.

“What’s your name, love?”

You swallowed, quickly darting your tongue out to swipe over your lips.

“Y/N.”

He repeated it, clearly liking the taste of it on his tongue. He nodded at you, drinking you in as he ran his eyes over your face, seemingly committing you to memory before sliding into you with one quick thrust. Your nails pressed into his skin, and he hissed, your own lips parting to let out a pained gasp. Michael held himself above you, a low groan escaping him as his forehead touched yours again.

“You feel fucking amazing,” he whispered, nose bumping against yours.

He held himself there for a long time, just feeling you. You weren’t naïve enough to think he did it for your sake, and you got the feeling that he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. When he did finally move, your chest arched upwards, unable to handle the unfamiliar feeling. His hand was still on your neck, and you wrapped your hand around his wrist.

The feel of him inside of you was strange. You couldn’t describe it, but you felt full...you felt stretched...and in a way, it felt unnatural, but the heat that festered deep within your stomach said otherwise. One of Michael’s hands was pressed into the bed beside your head, holding himself up so that he could look at you. You remembered his words, and too terrified to disobey, you fought to keep your eyes on him.

His face was strained with concentration, eyes flickering between your face and down to where the two of you connected. The hand that was on your neck slid down to your chest, thumb brushing over a heaving breast before resting on your stomach, pinning you down as he snapped his hips into yours. It was too much for you, too much at once, and your lashes fluttered. 

“Look at me,” he roughly breathed.

“I can’t...I can’t,” you panted, head twisting from side to side.

You could hardly focus on anything other than the way he was thrusting into you, taking you to heights you never knew existed. He called your name then, and you reluctantly met his eyes, the hunger in them making you shudder.

“That’s right. Eyes on me, love. Keep your eyes on me while I fuck you,” he murmured.

The smugness in his voice and face made you frown, a spark of anger in you.

“Do you fuck all of your girls like this? Huh?”

He didn’t respond, pink lips simply curving upwards into a humorous smirk.

“...or am I special because you get to ruin my life and go on with yours?” you shakily spat.

Michael slammed into you then, forcing a choked gasp from you.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. You just focus on milking my cock, hmm?”

You wanted to hit him, spit at him, do anything other than lay there and take his unrelenting thrusts, but your body seized before you could do any of that. Your toes curled and your stomach clenched and your body shook as stars exploded behind your eyes. You hadn’t even realized what a moaning mess you had become until Michael paused just to listen to you, just taking you in with something akin to awe on his face.

You didn't have time to catch your breath before he was chasing his own high, hands pressed into your waist so hard you were sure you’d bruise. Your nails dug into his wrists, choked moans tumbling from your mouth as you clenched around him again, just in time for him to spill into you, releasing a long breath as he did so. You clung to him, tears catching in your lashes as you laid there, mind whirling at what you’d just done.

You flinched, shrinking in on yourself when his lips brushed the corner of your mouth just before pulling out of you. You winced at the action, staring up at the ceiling as you heard him moving about. You turned your head when you heard the strike of a match and watched as he lit himself another cigarette, pants just barely settling on his waist.

“So what happens now?” you finally asked, voice low in the dark room. 

Would your father and brothers come through that door tomorrow, pretending that they hadn’t sold you out? Would they be able to even look at you? Stomach the sight of you? Fresh tears kissed your eyes just as Michael spoke.

“Well…”

He took a pull, exhaling the smoke through his nose as he neared you.

“...I’m going to fuck you at least three more times before the night is over.”

You sat up at this, paying no mind to the pain in between your legs as you stared at him with wide eyes. Without realizing it, you gripped the end of your nightgown, pulling it to your knees as if somehow trying to prevent that very thing from happening.

“What-?”

“...and then I want you to pack a bag. Just some things that’ll last you a few days. I’ll be buying you a whole new lot of clothes anyway.”

“Michael-.”

“You’re my girl, now,” he quietly said, voice firm as he stood over you, free hand playing with the strap of your gown as the other held his cigarette to his lips.

You shook your head, staring up at him in disbelief.

“I...no. My family...they-.”

“Sold you away without a second thought.”

Your heart clenched as he threw that in your face, and you turned away as he reached for you. His fingers pinched your chin, jerking you to face him, and you swallowed. He bent down, staring into your eyes.

“You won’t have to worry about that with us...with me.”

He took one more pull of his cigarette before placing it on the nightstand, tendrils of smoke escaping his nose and mouth just before he pressed his lips to yours, fingers pressing into your skin as he settled between your legs.

~

tags: @cocoamoonmalfoy @trinittyy @ziamslarry-blog @a531a​ @s-u-t​ @sunshinechim-98​ @callmechannel​ @lil-hungryy​ @oneoftheprettynerds​ @scissorkidscult​  @madamerubrum  

[captains-simp]

Wanda Maximoff ~ Bottled Up Feelings

Wanda Maximoff X fem!Reader Smut

Word count: 3,139

Includes: oral, fingering and scissoring

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Thank you for this." Your brunette friend said with a small smile for what must have been the hundredth time that night.

The team had been on a long, frustrating mission that had everyone exhausted. All anyone wanted to do was put their feet up or sleep the year away, eventually going off to do just that.

You and Wanda hadn't parted since you got back. You hadn't even needed to suggest a movie marathon as the pair of you went back to Wanda's room almost the moment you landed purely out of habit, after getting popcorn of course, and made yourself comfortable on her bed that had come to be as familiar as your own while Wanda scrolled mindlessly through Netflix.

Once you decided Wanda was taking too long looking for a movie you decided to steal the remote (claiming it was payback for all of the hoodies she had stolen from you) eventually streaming a series of some of your favourite horror films - something Wanda wasn't so keen on.

When you finally decided to call it a night on the movies Want a had been adamant you stay the night with her, telling you if you tried to get up to leave she would keep there with her powers. You weren't entirely sure she was joking.

You hardly needed the persuasion, you were always happy to spend time with your friend and you were glad she felt the same way.

When you came out to her a year ago she had been so understanding and supportive, much to your relief. Nothing changed between you and she never acted weird or uncomfortable around you like you knew some people would. She told you to stay in her room and sleep in her bed just as much as you had before. But that wasn't something you weren't sure if you should be happy about.

You had had a crush on Wanda for the longest time. As time went on you spent considerably more time together it was hard not to crush harder. Everything she did made your heart flutter. And those sleepovers? The way she always cuddled up into your side, the soft smile that played on her lips, the joyful laugh that filled the room (especially when it was from something you said), it had been impossible for you not to fall inlove with your best friend.

You had wondered before if Wanda was strictly into guys. It was impossible to tell with her as she never talked about crushes and became closed off when the convosation arrived. For all you knew she could be asexual or aromantic.

You tried not to be disappointed at that thought as you knew you should support her no matter what, but you couldn't shake the feelings you had for Wanda and that filled you with guilt.

It was only out of respect that you never made a move on her. You wanted to know she was open to something with a girl before you tried anything. And you didn't want to throw away what you had. That thought alone was enough to keep you in your lane.

Whenever you voiced these fears to Natasha when she told you to do something about your feelings (because you couldn't keep anything from the superspy) she told you that relationships were like a gamble. You could either throw the dice or skip your turn. It seemed the latter was becoming more likely.

"Stop thanking me!" You exclaimed with a smile as you pulled the duvet back and lay down next to her.

Wanda had often asked you to stay the night with her. A couple of times she had come into your room at ungodly hours of the mornings and asked to sleep in your bed which you always welcomed with open arms.

You knew her nightmares could be unkind, memories from her past resurfacing and her fears being acted out in scarring detail. She never wanted to talk about it though, so you comforted her by wrapping your arms around her tight and letting her know she was always going to be safe with you.

She seemed to think she burdened you with her worries and fears, but that was never the case and it never would be. You loved her and you would do anything for her.

Wanda was laying on her side with an amused grin and propping herself up on her elbow as she watched you get comfortable. She looked adorable. Wanda always did. You mimicked her position to face her and noticed she was studying you.

"Penny for your thoughts?" You asked in a light hearted tone and saw her smile in response.

"I already have plenty of pennies, thanks." She smiled and glanced away. It took everything in you not to kiss her there and then.

"Really, what's on your mind?" Wanda looked at you a little longer, as though contemplating her words, before speaking.

"What happened with that girl you met last week?" She asked curiously.

Now that was new. Wanda knew you hooked up with girls every so often (she didn't know that it was a lame attempt to get over the fact you were deeply inlove with her) but she never asked about them.

"Just the usual stuff." You shrugged as though the question hadn't taken you by surprise.

"What's the usual stuff?" You looked up at her to meet her eyes that didn't hint at any obvious emotion. She had beautiful eyes, they were perfect. Brown swirls that you always thought you could look at for hours, hoping it might really be a window to her soul and you could finally know what was going on in that head of hers.

"We went back to her place and had sex." You said bluntly, not knowing how much detail she wanted.

"Was it good?" Seriously who was she? She never asked you these things.

"Well she didn't need a map." You joked in an attempt to hide your confusion at her newfound curiosity in your sex life. Wanda didn't smile at your words, appearing lost in thought "Why?" You asked curiously.

"Don't you ever get attached? Develop feelings?" She asked, apparently ignoring my own question as she found interest in the pillow you were leaning on.

You could have burst into laughter at her question. You could have just blurted out "that would be kind of hard when I'm already head over heels for you", but you didn't.

"No. I don't see them after." You said, finding an interest in Wanda's pillow too.

The brunette fell quiet, apparently not having anything to say to that, not wanting the rare topic to end you continued.

"Have you been thinking about it lately?" You asked, afraid you were too blunt.

"Yes." She replied clearly. You hesitated for a moment before continuing.

"You want to hook up with someone?"

"Yes- no! I..." She sounded slightly panicked at first, but after a moment her voice dropped and shifted to a undeniably sad tone. Almost hopeless.

"What's stopping you?" You asked gently.

"I just...I don't want it to be with some random stranger." That was understandable. Lot of people felt the same way. Sex could be such a personal and sacred thing to people, something that's held close to their hearts and is purely an act of intimacy. You always thought that was beautiful and whished you coukd experience that. "I want it to be with someone I know... someone I trust and... someone I love." She finally looked up at you again as she breathed out slowly. "The person that I love."

She's in love? It was the only thing you could think. You wanted so desperately to ask who. For how long? When did it start? Why didn't she tell you?

"Who?" You asked. Your voice almost a whisper because you didn't want to risk Wanda hearing it break as you fought back tears.

"You." She replied at the same volume. You froze. Not believing what she said. This was completely uncharted territory for you. You didn't know what you were meant to do. So you did the only thing you knew how to do right. You kissed her.

Your hand cupped her cheek gently as your face became closer to hers, letting her know what you were about to do. She didn't object, instead she closed the distance between you.

Her lips were softer than they looked and felt perfect against your own. It was instantly addicting so you brought your other hand up to cup her other cheek and rolled over so you were partly ontop of her, never once disconnecting your lips.

You kissed her eagerly and longingly in hopes she understood that you had the same feelings for her. You had years of built up feelings to make up for, you were going to make it worth it if it was the last thing you did.

Wanda wrapped her hands around your neck and laced her fingers together as she pulled you towards her more. You happily let her do so and occasionally paused the kiss to let you breathe before going back to her.

You moved your legs so they were straddling Wanda's waist and you could be in the most comfortable position, the very concept of it giving you chills.

Bravely, you swiped your tongue across her lower lip to ask for permission. Although Wanda seemingly didn't understand what you were silently asking for, something that made you smile.

So you gently bit down on her lower lip, causing her to gasp out and moan. You made a mental note of how she responded to slight pain.

You slipped your tongue into her mouth and moaned as you explored it. It was like you needed to memorize every inch of her in case you could never do this again. You needed to treasure the moment and show Wanda just how much you cared.

"I love you too." You finally spoke. You could hear and feel her breath become shaky in nerves and it made you want to hold her close and comfort her forever.

"Show me." She whispered and you smiled.

You kissed her lips again briefly before switching your attention to her jaw. Your hands wandered down to the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head before throwing it across the room.

Your mouth almost fell to the floor when you realised she wasn't wearing a bra, forgetting you had both changed into pjs. It was dark in the room and you hadn't thought about that fact.

You slowly started to kiss down her neck, along her collarbone and finally planted butterfly kisses on her breasts. You heard Wanda gasp out at the motion and softly moan when you took her left nipple into your mouth.

Softly sucking on the bud gently, you pinched the other then switched, ensuring you gave them equal attention but eventually you felt Wanda push your head lower.

You smirked against her chest and oblidged to her clear wishes by kissing lower down her stomach and hooking your fingers under her waistband.

You pulled the fabric down slowly and kissed every inch of exposed skin before throwing the material to join her top.

Then you softly bit down on small patches of her skin and sucking on them softly to leave small marks along her thighs until Wanda grew impatient with you, groaning at what she thought was teasing rather than you cherishing the moment, you would be sure to clear that up layer.

You pulled her panties down and took a moment to beautiful sight before you and heavenly scent that had your scenes on overdrive. You smiled and instantly flickered your tongue against her clit.

She moaned out in surprise and pleasure, closing her eyes and putting her head back into the pillows as she laced her fingers through your hair.

You took two fingers and stroked them along her folds, smirking when you felt how wet she was against your fingers and relishing under the fact it was a result of your actions.

You moved away from her core to look up at her as you licked her juices off of your fingers with a proud smirk.

She stared down at you with lust in her eyes that made her even more beautiful.

Your mouth returned to her but this time sucked on her outer folds that were also soaked with her juices. You moaned into her when her arousal hit your taste buds again and dipped your tongue into her folds.

You dipped your tongue in further and heard her moan out your name, a sound that made your stomach flip. You took this as encouragement and started thrusting your tongue into her at a faster pace and rubbed your thumb in tight circles against her clit.

Wanda gripped your hair tightly as she moaned out more, her legs wrapping around your head perfectly to keep it securely in place as they began to shake.

Her breathing became fast and shallow as her grip on your hair tightened.

You rubbed harder and thrust your tongue faster until you felt a warm, sweet liquid against your tongue and Wanda screaming out in pleasure.

You looked up at her through hooded eyes as you eagerly licked up the cum she had spilt and moaned at the taste of it, instantly planning to taste it again at some point.

She looked so beautiful blissed out, more tender than you had ever seen her.

You leaned up and kissed Wanda passionalty as she did the same. You knew she could taste herself on your lips as you felt her smile against you at that fact.

"Now let me." Wanda whispered, her hand caressing your bare thigh that wasn't covered by your loose shorts.

"Wanda you don't ha-" Wanda silenced you by placing a slim finger over your lips.

"I want to. I want to make you feel good." She whispered again and pulled you closer by the back of your neck to bring you on for another kiss.

You leaned forward and kissed her passionately, not believing how soft her lips were and how perfect they felt against your own, fitting together perfectly.

She pulled you closer before rolling you over in a playful way that made you smile as she lay ontop of you. She kissed a path down you jaw and neck as her fingers continued to tease your thighs.

Her hand then came up to your waistband, momentarily tracing your hipbones, before slipping beneath the fabric of you shorts and panties.

You gasped out as fingers ghosted over your clit then adventures further to your folds.

Her fingers swiped through your folds a couple of times to gather your wetness on her fingers before slipping inside of you.

You moaned heavily at the feeling as Wanda sighed at the feel of your wet pussy around her fingers.

Her fingers extended fully inside you before retreating only to return again faster. You moaned as Wanda memorized every inch of your core and how it felt around her as she fingered you with earnest.

As her pace increased Wanda's free hand landed on your waist, holding your bodies close together as she leant in to kiss you again.

You eagerly complied as her fingers curled to hit an amazing nerve ending that had you clinging to Wanda's back and moaning the loudest.

"Wan..." You chanted breathlessly.

You squeezed your walls around Wanda's fingers as you approached your high. She took this with a new vigour and rubbed your clit firmly with her thumb, causing you to cum with a cry of her name.

She continued to lay ontop of you while you got your breath back, smiling down at you lovingly.

As she sat up slightly you were reminded of just how naked she was, and how she was right ontop of you. You were aching to feel your bare skin against hers.

You placed your hands on her waist and gently pulled her down onto her back as you sat up and grinned at her and the thoughts playing in your mind.

Wanda smiled back at you as she watched you quickly discard your shirt before pulling off your shorts and panties in one.

She bit her lip at the sight of you completely bare to her but you didn't give her a chance to stare as you were already pushing her legs apart and laying between them as you cupped her face.

"I wanna try something." You whispered, as though the experience was a secret that you two would share forever and guard with your lives. She nodded up at you, keeping eye contact as you lifted her left leg up and spread her other leg further apart, giving you the best access to her still glistening folds.

You could hear your steady breathing as you positioned yourself accordingly so your pussy hovered above Wanda's. You lowered yourself slowly and you both moaned at the contact and friction that was instantly created.

Wanda bucked her hips up when your clit glided over hers and your slick came together to help your movements.

You tried not to get too caught up in the pleasure at first, needing to be able to concentrate your attention on Wanda and the best movements.

You soon fell into the right rhythm, your breathy moans filled the room as you allowed yourself to fall flat against Wanda and kiss her deeply.

You hips rotated perfectly, yours and Wanda's folds glided over one another in was a blissful way you had never experienced.

The movements were making the pair of you breathe faster so you abandoned the kiss to place your forehead against Wanda's as your movements became more erratic.

You didn't want to cum until Wanda did, but the familiar coil in your lower stomach was becoming to tighten.

"Y/n!" Wanda moaned as her hips continued to buck against your own. The movements threw you off at first but your hips soon collided into one frantic movement.

You grinded your pussys together with vigour as you both chased your release with desperation, your combined wetness making the most lewd sound echo throughout the room and amplifying both of your arousals.

With one hard thrust of your hips you both came with a loud moan, clinging to each other and foreheads still connected as you rode out your high together, your hips twitching slightly until you eventually fell down beside Wanda, both of you still swimming in pleasure.

"Wow." Wanda barely managed to speak, exhaustion written into her voice.

"I love you." You muttered as you placed your fingers together.

"I love you too." Wanda smiled tiredly as she gave your hand a loving squeeze.

[landinoandco]

Our Love is a Game

Lando Norris x Reader

Request from @jamieeboulos

Warnings: pinch of fluff, cute ending because they are the best

Word count: 2.7 k

Requests are open :)

It all started with a phone number, an innocent exchange that would subsequently change the world you knew; mostly for the better. When you had met Lando, as far as you were concerned you had just met a 21 year old who lived in London and had a passion for cars. How wrong you were. It was only when things started to get serious that he sat you down and explained everything that came with being a formula one driver; more importantly the fandom that he was involved in. 

You had always been a private person and admittedly this piece of information almost broke your relationship but after some time to think you had decided that he was worth it all. You both decided it was a better idea to keep your relationship as quiet as possible - you took every precaution to make sure you stayed a stranger to the fans.

For the past 2 years, you thought you had managed to stay clear of the cameras, the photos and the twitch streams but it wasn’t until a fan-made compilation caused your world to spiral out of control. 

You and Lando were out for a run, it was a part of your morning routine - a great way to start the day and it was time that you two could escape the motor sport world and act like a normal couple without worrying about who might be watching. It was time you both valued and appreciated. On this particular morning, Lando had decided to add to his Instagram story, a short video of his morning adventures - the mist still hanging around the trees as you ran under a heavily graffitied bridge, the early birds song chirping animatedly. At the time you didn’t think much of it as you were too busy tying your hair back up to notice. 

It wasn’t until you got home and looked at his story that your heart stopped, rushing over to the kitchen island you placed your phone down and ran your fingers through your hair. It was a blink and you’ll miss it moment but in the corner of his video - the last millisecond before it ended - there was a flash of a purple top (the purple top you had been wearing) and a swish of brown hair as you chucked it back up into a ponytail. 

“Lando.” You called out, trying to keep your voice as calm as you could. You didn’t know why it had affected you so much - or why you were so desperate to keep your identity a secret. It wasn’t like you wanted to hide your relationship; you were the happiest you ever had been, everyday was exciting and offered new prospects - it was more that you were so used to being in this bubble with Lando, the idea of it bursting seemed rather unappealing. Usually you didn’t care for how others saw you but seeing some of the words that people used to describe him, it would be enough to trouble even the thickest of skins. 

Lando’s close proximity broke your thoughts as he stared down at your phone, pausing on the flash of brown and purple. “I am so sorry, love.” He almost whispered, his eyes widening at his carelessness. He picked your phone up to take a closer look. 

“It will be alright, won’t it? I mean, it’s a blink and you’ll miss it.” You had said, more to reassure yourself than Lando. He didn’t answer, anxiety building in the pit of his stomach because he knew exactly what he had started. 

The fan-made compilation didn’t go viral until a few hours later - as it turns out that flash of purple was the perfect cherry on top of an unappetising cake. Lando was sat on stream - not that this was out of the ordinary and Max had decided to join him, leaving you alone to rewatch Friends for the umpteenth time. 

The pair were sat reacting to videos on YouTube when a clip of a seal swimming into a shoal of fish started playing - the amusing part was that they kept quickly dispersing away from the seal in question. Unsurprisingly, they laughed and Lando spluttered: “This is me trying to find a girlfriend.” What the fans didn’t know was the apparent irony of that sentence and this was what caused the major meltdown; whilst Lando and Max were busy crying with laughter - that chat had filled up with the same link and references to the video you would be redirected through. 

Max was the first to stop laughing, tapping Lando on the shoulder as he pointed at the chat. Hundreds of the same message filled the screen: “That’s not what this compilation shows.” “Lando, what are you hiding from us?” “Lando and Max laughing knowing very well he has a girlfriend.” 

“Chat what on earth are you waffling on about.” Max chuckled uneasily, looking at Lando out of the corner of his eye. Lando sat with a forced smile, his nostrils flaring as he continued through the comments. He could only let out a tense laugh as he swallowed thickly - his throat feeling suddenly dry. You were still sitting, completely engrossed and unaware that Lando Norris was now trending on twitter. 

Max had come up with an excuse to end the stream not long after, Lando uncharacteristically quiet. His thoughts were with you in the other room, had you seen it? Did you know? How would you react? He felt as though he had lost all control, like he had failed you entirely - all he wanted to do was protect you yet he was the one to screw it up. 

“Hey,” Max nudged his shoulder, “It was bound to happen at some point. Let’s go and see if she’s seen it - if not then -” He took a deep breath, “We will watch it together. We need to know what we are working with here.” Lando nodded, unable to reply, his body went into automatic pilot mode and too quickly he was standing facing you. 

Pausing the tv, you looked at Lando - his jaw tightened and facial expressions set as though he had just seen a ghost. “Is everything ok?” You asked apprehensively. 

“There’s something you need to see.” Max reached for his phone, pushing Lando onto the sofa. You offered your arm to Lando, pulling him into a hug. Max pulled up the video and pressed play. A tense atmosphere held the room hostage - breath restricted and gazes fixed onto the tiny screen in front of you. 

It started with a clip from this year’s Goodwood - Lando preparing to drive his last hill climb - you remembered it well, a McLaren hat placed on your head mainly to cover your identity; knowing that there would be more than a few fans around. The clip moved to 3 separate stills - all of you in your McLaren hat. One with your back to the camera, you hand placed around Lando’s waist, the other two a side profile as you spoke to Max. 

The reaction was immediate, you slapped your hand to your mouth, Lando looked horror-struck and Max was watching you carefully. 

The video moved on, this time a clip from the quadrant video where Niran trains like Lando for 24 hours - Lando and Niran were in the kitchen preparing to eat their breakfast when once again the video moved to stills. This time they were of your reflection in the oven - holding the camera. You had thought at the time, if you were behind the camera it would stop every chance of you accidentally being caught on camera. Apparently not. 

The video had moved on again, this time to stills of Lando arriving on track - of course there was no way for you to get on track without being photographed and you were fine with that because you would just arrive after Lando either with Jon or Charlotte. Photos of you arriving with Jon and Charlotte flashed up - with them you were just another member of staff but put with those other stills and it really did yell out that you and Lando were romantically involved. Finally the flash of purple from Lando’s story. The game was up. 

“Oh my-” You stuttered as the video came to an end. Fortunately your Instagram hadn’t been shown but judged by how skilled you knew the fans to be - it would only be a matter of time. “I feel sick.” You admitted, wiping your hands across your face. Lando still hadn’t said a word, staring blankly at the floor. Max was the first to come up with something logical, turning to you and Lando. 

“It will blow over.” He started, “The fans will soon lose interest and move onto the next big headline. We just need to ignore anything we see regarding the subject.” He moved his attention to you. “Maybe avoid social media for a few days. Let everyone cool down -” Sensing your means to interrupt, he held his hand up. “I know you shouldn’t have to and I know none of this is fair but unfortunately people have no boundaries and believe because it’s on social media it is their business. If they were in our situation, I’m pretty sure they would be the first to complain. Let’s just go along with it for now. It will give you time to think about what to do next.” 

Lando cleared his throat, pulling you closer into him. “I’ve failed you. All I wanted to do was protect you.” At this, Max got up and left. 

Shaking your head, you pressed your lips to his forehead. “You could never. Think about how long we kept it secret for. Besides, until we announce or admit anything - it isn’t confirmed.” You offered, trying to soothe his worries. He nodded, still not convinced. 

“Our love is like a game and it’s not a game I enjoy playing.” He croaked, lacing your fingers together. 

“I know, Lando, I know. Let’s let everything calm down and then we can think about what our next step is.” 

Weeks later and it was the night before you were due to leave for your summer holiday. You would be spending it with Lando and some of his friends and family. Due to the current pandemic, it had been so long since you had been away - even if it was a bigger group of you going; you were still looking forward to spending that quality time with Lando. 

Max had decided to take himself and Tom off to the streaming room - leaving you and Lando to sort out the remaining items you needed for your time away. 

“I have a present for you.” He said suddenly, his hands behind his back. You beamed, taking a step closer to him. He shook his head, “If you want it - “ He pointed at his lips. 

Rolling your eyes, you pecked his lips then held out your hands like a child. Lando chuckled, “Close your eyes.” Hands still outstretched and eyes closed, you waited for Lando to present you with your surprise. He grasped your left wrist and attached something to it - “No peeking.” He added. A moment or two later, he dropped his hold of your wrist and said: “You can open them now.” You could hear the smile on his lips. You opened your eyes and looked straight to your wrist - he had given you a pink watch. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up at him, his eyes twinkled as he then pointed to the orange watch on his wrist. 

“Watches?” You asked, confusion laced your tone. 

Nodding, he said, “We all have matching watches but in different colours - they are for our holiday away.” 

You gave him a lopsided grin and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love it. Thank you.” 

In the streaming room, Max was having to ignore the majority of the comments because they were all asking the same thing: “Who was the girl from the compilation.” He was trying his hardest to keep moving off the topic, instead showing off the watches - it had been his idea, blue for him, orange for Lando, a child’s watch for Tom and a pink watch for you. He had listed off all of the colours and said who they belonged to: “And then pink-” He paused, mentally face palming. He looked over to Tom for assistance - he hadn’t meant to say pink at all. “And pink is for someone.” He cursed his poor excuse but as if by magic - Lando walked through the door. 

Distracting the stream from his slip up. 

Croatia was a dream come true, the hot summer sun on your back and the time to just relax and recharge. Days spent with Lando sunbathing on the boat or stuck in a tense game of Uno. Not being the only female was brilliant as well - as they got to go off and not feel guilty about leaving you on your own. 

Currently, you and Lando were standing in each other's arms - the afternoon drawing into the evening as the sun began to set. You had your arms around his neck and his arms were around your waist, sighing contentedly you broke the silence: “This is nice.” He pressed his lips into your hair, a sign that he agreed with your statement. In that moment, it was just you and him - everyone seemed to disappear from around you and all worries vanished. It was the simple yet affectionate moments that had always meant the most to you. You felt as though you could relax every muscle in your body, listening to his steady heartbeat - you wished for this moment to never end, to forever be in his arms and to not worry about who sees you there. 

Ever since that compilation had been made, the thought had been on your mind a lot. Were you ready to go public with Lando? At the end of the day you were both happy and surely that was the most important thing. 

Later that night, you were sitting eating your meal when a phone was handed to you, displayed on it was a picture of you and Lando - in each other’s arms. 

Instantly you knew what this meant, looking at Lando you were met with the same expression. He did as well. 

You and Lando had decided it was time to announce your relationship, there was no point sneaking around anymore if people knew and were looking out for you. You had agreed that the best way to do it was if you joined him in a stream, that way they got to know you a bit more for who you were. 

“Is it ok to feel as nervous as I am?” You asked him, pulling up a chair beside him. He was setting up the stream, two mugs of tea placed in front of you. It seemed completely unnatural to sit facing the camera. 

“I mean, this is kind of a big deal so yes I would say, it’s completely natural for you to feel nervous.” He reached for your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. Nodding, you took a deep breath. 

“Ok. I’m ready.” You said, your heart beating at a million miles an hour. The corners of his lips turned up, leaning in to leave you a kiss on the lips. 

“I love you and I’m so proud of you.” He admitted quietly, as though you were the only person in the world, his eyes flickered with complete adoration. 

“I love you too. Now, shall we start it?” 

Lando went to press the start stream button but paused. He turned back to face you, his eyes wide and offered an apologetic smile. 

“What did you do?” You asked, a smile toying at your lips as you had an idea of what it might have been. 

“Stream, meet my girlfriend.” 

He had already started it...

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

?

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

[oldonenow]

Naughty Halloween

——————————————————————————

Fem!reader x Bakugou x Kirishima

Warning: Dubcon,sexual themes,dom!bakukiri,sub! Reader,oral,anal,deep throat,slut calling,spanking,begging,hardcore,and just a mean Bakugou!

——————————————————————————

“Hmmm what should I wear? Do you like this better or this one?.” The two boys sat in the bed while glaring at the two dresses you hold up. One of them was a red short dress and the other one was a black short dress but would show more then just your cleavage. The dress would hug your body and show all your beautiful curves especially your ass! You would look so-

“No. Not the black one.” An angry Bakugou choked out. Even if he tried to act tuff,You could still see the slight blush on his cheeks.

“Oh come on you don’t even know how it looks on me!” You said frustrated. You already knew which dress you wanted to have on the Halloween party. You had already decide but still wanted to ask them what they thought. They are your boyfriends after all and have been in a while now. You knew they could easily get jealous but still you wanted to tease them a little.

“No. You not going out in that dress. All the other guys is going to look at you and your body and not going to keep their mouth shut.” He stood up from the position he was sitting on and took his hands in his pockets. “You know how angry I would be if one of those dick heads even lean a finger on you. So it’s a NO. Come on take the red dress and let’s go” he finally spoke before stomping out of the bedroom.

“I-I’m with Bakugou there,maybe you should just take the red one babe” the red hair male said with a awkward laugh in the end. You let out a loud sigh before going to the bathroom to change.

You looked at the two dresses. The red one was beautiful but not as much as the black one. So you took the black one and change to it quickly. I’m mean what are they gonna do?

It was after all a Halloween party so the meaning of it was that everyone was going to dress up to someone or something. Bakugou was suppose to be an werewolf but then decided to just take a black expensive suit and so did Kirishima.

They looked really good so it was only fair! You also bought a diadem with two horns to symbolize the Devil’s. You looked you self in the mirror and pushed up you boobs before leaving the bathroom.

The two boys were already waiting by the front door and when you showed up they suddenly looked like to tomato’s. You smiled at them and got closer.

“Ready to go?” You teased ‘em.

“I-I told you not to wear that dress Y/N!” Bakugou shouted. Kirishima just stood there in silence while his eyes search you body. Damn you looked good.

“Well I did anyways. Now come on I don’t want to be late!”

And with that the three of you took off.

———

The amount people there was a huge!

Some people were taking drinks at the bar in the corner of the house and some people stood a side talking to each other. But most of the people were dancing or flirting with another.

The house had two floors. The first floor was were everyone was dancing and the party took place. At the second floor there were two bathrooms and three bedrooms. From the front door you came from the sight of maybe three or four people was upstairs and the rest was downstairs enjoying the party.

You knew some people at the party expect from Bakugou and Kiri. It was Mina,Denki,Uraraka and Izuku or they were the one you knew would come.

You saw Minas pink curly hair in the sea of people. A large smile crept up you face before you made your way to her. And leaved the two boys for now.

———

“Fuck I fucking knew she would look hot in that dress” bakugou hummed for himself but loud enough for Kiri to hear. “Yeah man,and she’s all ours” he said with a smile. The two boys were glaring at your dancing form from the couch there were sitting on with one beer in their hands. When suddenly-

“Hello there sexy. Want a dance or a ride?.” A man behind you said.

You froze in chock but then turned around to the man. He was a completely stranger from what you knew. “I-um” you were about to say no when you thought how funny it would be to tease your two boyfriends in an other level.

“Sure I can take a dance if you don’t mind” you said with a flirty voice. The stranger smiled and nod at your respond. He took you hand softly and dragged you to another part of the dancing platform. And now the two men could see you perfectly from the couch. To tease them a little extra you got even closer to the stranger.

Bakugou and Kiri knew that you hade been drinking a bit but you still knew what you were doing. How did you have the nerve to even let the man wrap his hand around your waist. And with that Bakugou placed down his drink roughly and quickly stood up and made his way towards you,The same did Kirishima.

You were about to ask the stranger something when two strong arms lifted you up in the air and over a strong shoulder. You knew it was Bakugou.

“Hey what are you-ah” a hard smack landed on your ass cheek. “Be quiet slut”.The words made a shiver while he dragged you upstairs and Kirishima right behind.

Bakugou kicked up the door to one of the bedrooms and threw you on the bed.

Kirishima was quickly closing the door behind him and got closer to you. He was already hard of the thought of fucking you in one of the bedrooms at the party and making you scream from pleasure and pain.

Bakugou quickly hovered over you and cupped one of your breast through the clothing. You could feel his thick member already hard. He got up and sat on on his knees looking down on your small figure.

“Heh really thought we wouldn’t notice hah?. Oi shitty hair how do you think we should punish her?” He let out a small laugh. “Well with that bratty attitude of hers,I think she can earn something in her ass don’t you think?”

A large smile crept up on Bakugou face at Kiri’s thought.

You were already sopping wet and it didn’t help about the thought having two big cocks buried inside you.

Soon Bakugou started searching for the dress’s zipper on the back. When he find it he slowly tolk it down. Bakugou roughly tugged down your dress to reveal your now bare breasts.

Kirishima slowly made his way in to the large bed too,And kissed you roughly. He’s teeth dug down your under lips and let out a grunt.

Bakugou hade already taken off his pants and boxers and reveled his thick cock leaking pre-cum on the head.

“Suck” was the only word he came up with and you waisted no time to do so. You got up on your fours and took one of you hand to stroke it softly before giving the slit a lick and took him in you tight throat.

Kiri got behind you and spread you cheeks apart to reveal you sopping cunt. He’s middle finger immediately stroke you little clit.

”Awww the little slut is already so wet” he said before bending down to lick up you juices.

Chocking and soft moaning filed the room.

You deep throating Bakugou and Kiri eating you up.

You felt your self getting close to your climax when Kiri suddenly stopped.

“Ah ah, not now princess. Maybe later you get to cum” he said with a smile. Bakugou not long after pulled out from you mouth and a string saliva was between your mouth and his cock.

You looked behind you and saw Kiri sitting on the bed and leaned against the headboard. He waved at you to come and sit on his lap. And so you did,Turning around with your ass out and made you comfortable in Kiri’s lap. He didn’t have his pants on by the time so you took you hand and stroked him a bit too.

Bakugou got up behind you and kissed down your neck and a hard smack landed on your ass. A loud moan came out from you throat.

“If it hurt too much just say stop and I’ll stop,okey?” You nodded in respond.

You felt kirishimas cock at you entrance and slowly made his way in you tight pussy.

“Damn that little pussy taking my big fat cock so well!” Kiri whispered in your ear. He’s shaft only slipped in further and further inside you. You could feel Bakugou’s middle finger sliding in you ass before he added another one.

“Must get you nice and ready before I shove it in eh?” Bakugou said with a sarcastic laugh. You could only moan at the friction they were getting you.

Kiri let you cock warm him while Bakugou pumped two fingers fast in your ass. “F-fuck it feels good” you said with a lewd face. “Just you wait until you have two cocks stuffing you full”. The ash blonde haired male said.

After some minutes your ass was nice and ready for Bakugou’s cock. He spread you ass cheeks apart and spit before grabbing his member.

He teased his cockhead at the entrance and slowly pushed in. It did hurt. A lot. You thought Kiri saw that cause he started to play with you tits. Pinching them sometimes and got you nipples nice and hard before sucking at them like a baby that want milk.

You were lucky that Bakugou were the one stuffing your ass full. Fine he was huge but kiri’s was extreme,It was almost like he’s cock didn’t fit inside your cunt.

You felt Bakugou go further inside you and soon he got balls deep. You got some time to adjust both of them and then started moving your hips like signal that they could start moving. You felt Kiri start fist bucking his hips against yours. Not long after Bakugou started moving and slapped your ass hard.The pleasure took over you and all you could do was moaning.

“A-ah this is what you get for m-m messing with us” Bakugou grunted behind you. You could feel Bakugou so deep inside you,And your eyes started crossing and your mouth formed an ‘o’.

“Please! Please go faster oh my gosh!” you cried out. You felt your climax get closer and closer.

“Yeah you want us to go faster then beg more slut” Kiri mound.

“PLEASE,I want you to stuff m-me full of your cum!!” Both of them started moving faster and faster.

“Fuck shitty hair I can feel you!” Bakugou grown. You could feel Bakugou reaching his limit. He’s nails dug into your hips.

“Fuck,Cum on my cock baby,cum!” Kiri said while pumping into you. Your climax finally reached and you came all over he’s cock. Bakugou came not long after inside your ass.

———

“God that was good!” Bakugou said out of breath.

“Yeah that was fucking amazing. You did so good for us!” Kiri said with a smile on his face. The three of you were so tired of the intense sex. Your pussy and your ass all stretch out.

“Heh ready for a round two babe,you think you can handle it?” Bakugou said with a grin.

——————————————————————————

~🕳 👩‍🦯~

[contemplativepancakes]

please can i have 22 for the pining prompts 🥺 /witcher-and-his-bard <333333

22. Disguising pining with heavy flirtation (with others)

thanks for the prompt, alex! making me write flirting was terribly cruel! ):<

Jaskier leans across the counter, fluttering his lashes at the barmaid. “What are your plans later on?”

She scowls at him and scrubs the bartop with more vigor. “I’m busy.”

Jaskier puts a hand over his chest. “A travesty. True beauty like yours is hard to come by, my dear.”

There’s a growling behind him, and then Geralt is fisting a hand in the back of Jaskier’s doublet. The touch is electrifying, sending a shiver up his back from where Geralt’s finger brushes against his skin. “Leave her alone, Jaskier.”

She looks up at Geralt with doe eyes, and Jaskier pouts. He’d barely said two sentences; he was backing off without Geralt having to come and play the shining white knight. Jaskier wonders if he looks that completely hopeless when he looks at Geralt.

He shudders. He hopes not.

He yanks away from Geralt’s and turns to the steps to climb up to their shared room, facing another night alone.

He sighs.

-

In the next city they come to, Jaskier tries his luck again. Geralt sent him to get his sword sharpened, and Jaskier had squinted at him in confusion, because doesn’t Geralt do that himself?

Geralt had shooed him away with something about honing instead of sharpening; Jaskier always tunes him out as soon as he takes on that dry tone that means he’s about to give Jaskier a lecture. Jaskier can think of better uses of his time, like admiring Geralt’s forearms, just for starters.

Jaskier hands the swords over to the blacksmith, and he takes them over to his grindstone. Jaskier watches in interest as he tilts the blade this way and that, pumping with his foot to make the stone turn. The man has thick fingers that look plenty skilled and Jaskier gulps as he wonders what they might feel like inside of him, around him. He doesn’t think about the times he’s had those same thoughts about Geralt.

He’s sure if he just ignores them, they’ll go away. That’s how feelings work, right?

He subtly unlaces a few strings at the top of his doublet, putting on his most dashing grin when the smith is finally finished with Geralt’s sword.

“Nice craftsmanship, here,” the man grunts.

“It’s a witcher’s sword,” Jaskier confides, and when the man lights up in interest instead of disgust, Jaskier feels drawn a little closer.

He is quite handsome.

“Really? Where did you get it?”

Jaskier laughs. “From a witcher, of course. He’s my travelling companion.”

The smith draws back from him. “Oh, of course. My apologies; please pass along my compliments to him.”

Jaskier looks down at himself idly, wondering if not enough chest hair is on display. He’s certain he picked up on a whiff of interest when he came into the shop.

“Now that I think about it, I saw you two come into town earlier, didn’t I? You were riding on the horse.”

“Well, that’s just because one of my shoes had ripped, normally he makes me walk the entire way.”

The man quirks an eyebrow at him, clearly in disbelief. “Uh huh. He lifted you off the horse to help you down. That doesn’t exactly sound like the kind of guy who’s going to make you walk a hundred miles.”

Jaskier blows a hard breath through his nose, because this is just his luck, a complete stranger taking Geralt’s side over him. Geralt had only done that because Jaskier had griped so much about how stiff sitting in the saddle was making him. Jaskier grabs the sword off the counter, nearly cutting himself in the process. “Well, fine. Have a lovely day.”

The smith stares at him in bemusement as Jaskier leaves the shop in a huff.

When he gets back to the inn, Jaskier drops Geralt’s swords on the floor of their room in a clatter, making Geralt look up as he stomps back downstairs and stops in front of the first woman he sees. He’s so damn tired of Geralt monopolizing his thoughts when he’s not even there.

He actually makes some progress, this time, the woman receptive and giggling to what he says. He’s just dropped into the seat across from her, focusing his full attention on her as she tells him about a dog she’s seen about the village, when another man strolls up to the table with a pinched expression.

Jaskier flits his gaze back to the woman, who is now giggling nervously and sighs. Of course this is her husband. “Greetings, my good sir,” he cries, popping out of the chair.

“Why were you talking to my wife?” he growls.

“Oh, I was just getting her opinion on—”

He takes a threatening step towards Jaskier before Geralt appears at Jaskier’s shoulder, making him jump back and his heart race. “Gods, Geralt.”

“What’s the problem here?”

“He was trying to seduce my wife!”

Jaskier snorts, because the wife seemed a little more than receptive to him, but he keeps his mouth shut.

Geralt frowns, putting a large hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. It feels like a brand, sending a jolt of heat to his skin. “I certainly hope not. You wouldn’t do that, right, love?”

Jaskier nearly chokes on his own spit at Geralt’s use of the pet name.

“No, no, certainly not.”

“Good,” Geralt says pleasantly, but the thunderous look on his face is anything but. “Glad we cleared that up.”

He practically drags Jaskier away from the couple and back up the stairs. “I swear, I can’t leave you alone for two minutes.”

“Sorry,” he squeaks as Geralt pulls him dangerously close.

“Anything I could do to keep you out of trouble?”

Jaskier’s gaze flickers down to Geralt’s lips, gods damn him, and his breath catches when he looks back up to see Geralt looking at his.

“I can think of one thing,” he ventures.

Geralt hums. “Yeah?”

Jaskier takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before he grips Geralt’s shirt, and yanks Geralt towards him, crushing their lips together. Geralt kisses him like he’s been just waiting for Jaskier to make the first move, and Jaskier wonders how much time he’s wasted. When he finally pulls back, he’s panting. He smooths his thumb over Geralt’s cheekbone. “Yeah.”

[mcbenson25]

More than He Bargained For Part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Final Part

When you woke up you groaned in pain as you tried to sit up. It felt like someone had smashed bricks on your head.

You reached for your phone on the end of the table where you usually placed it and were surprised when there was nothing.

You blinked your eyes a couple of times and that's when you realized this was not your room.

As you looked around you heard the door open and Harry walked in with a glass of water in hand.

He didn't say a word as he handed the glass and some Tylenol to you which you eagerly drank down.

You had so many questions. The last thing you remembered was talking to Barry and Cisco.

And how close Harry's face had gotten.

You could feel a light warmth rush into your cheeks but you pushed the thought out of your head. Right now you needed answers. Especially since Harry had not said one word to you since he came in.

"What happened? I know for a fact I only had one drink and it shouldn't have knocked me out like this," you said as you scooted to sit towards the edge of the bed.

Harry sat on the other end and avoided looking at you.

What was wrong with him?

"Harry?" you tried again and you lightly touched his arm.

His head shot up as his arm flinched at your touch. His face looked pained as if you were physically forcing answers from him.

Something was wrong.

A feeling of dread and nervousness filled your body as, out of instinct, you went to touch the chain of your necklace.

You fingers were met with nothing but the smooth skin of you neck and that's when you began to panic. You eyes were wide as you looked back at Harry and saw him holding your necklace loosely on his fingers.

"Were you looking for this?" he asked quietly.

You wanted to come up with some lie or excuse but you knew he wouldn't believe you. So instead you sighed and took the chain from his hand.

"How?" you asked him.

"Barry mixed up his drink with yours," he answered almost immediately.

"Oh," was all you could say as you heavily sigh, "Did anything else happen?"

He looked at you as your words from last night invaded his mind.

"Have a very handsome face...pretty eyes...kissable lips...hard not to fall in love...married...Eobard Thawne"

He quickly shook his head, "Nope," he said with extra emphasis on the 'p'.

You both felt as if you were strangers as you sat in silence next to each other. All it took was just one drink for everything to change.

"I take it the team doesn't know?" He asked.

You shook your head lightly, "No, they don't."

He lightly scoffed and muttered something along the lines of, "Right. Of course they don't," as he pinched the bridge of his nose and you both sat there once again in silence that each time was making you more and more uncomfortable.

"It's complicated," you say finally breaking the silence.

He looked at you and scoffed, "You're married to the man who killed your friend's mother."

You flinched at his words and looked away.

Harry sighed. He had so much running around his head. His heart. Everything he was feeling was a mess. Anger. Shock. Disbelief.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I would be angry too if I were you," you said as you toyed at at your ring.

Harry took a moment to study you. To try and decipher what was going on. You looked tired, but not from the hangover, it was something else that seems to be weighing you down as you sighed frustratingly. The small wrinkles that blessed you smile now only helped outline the worry on your face.

You seem like a completely different person from the happy, fierce woman he had grown to love.

He reach for your hand reassuringly because he understood why you hadn't shared this with anyone. Love makes people do unexpected things and he knew that better than anyone because he also had his own skeletons from things he had done when Jessie had gone missing.

But there was a nagging in his head. A curiosity to know. There were already things that were clicking into place in his head.

Any mention of Thawne had always made you so shaky and quiet. When Thawne had come back for what he called his "origin story" you had almost fainted. You were distracted and distressed until he was sent back into the future. Harry had thought it was because of the lie and deception Thawne had done but he was wrong.

He had so many questions for you. But the main one was: How?

How did you fall in love with a man like him?

You sighed sadly and Harry realized he had said it aloud.

"It's a long story."

"I've got time."

--------

"I didn't meet him as Harrsion Wells like everyone else," you start, still unsure of sharing this with Harry. You had never has the opportunity to tell anyone about this

Harry tilted his head in curiosity.

"How?"

You took a deep breath.

"I'll tell you everything but you have to promise me you won't tell anyone."

Harry glanced up at you. It was weird seeing you so upset when you always had a smile on your face.

"I promise."

You nodded and sighed as ran your hand nervously through your hair.

"We weren't supposed to ever meant. But we did."

‐---------------

*3 years ago*

"Hey I don't want you to freak out but someone just tried to rob me but I'm okay."

"WHAT?!"

It had been a quiet morning for you. You had just started breakfast when your best friend had called you.

"I told you not to freak out!"

"How did you want me not to freak out!" you said in disbelief.

You could almost hear her eyes roll in annoyance.

"Look I punched the sucker pretty good but I think I sprained my wrist or something so I'm gonna go get it checked out. Could you go cover for me at Jitters. I already called Mark and he said it was fine."

"Yes of course I can cover for you! Call me after you get checked out."

She gave you an airy laugh.

"Okay mom. Thanks for covering for me. I owe you."

She said goodbye and hung up while you decided to go for a quick breakfast and grabbed a yogurt from the fridge.

You decided you would walk since your apartment was far from Jitters. You enjoyed walking anyways because you loved Central City. It was full of wonders and possibilities.

You were at the last crosswalk waiting for the walk signal. You hummed to yourself as the light turned, signaling you to cross.

As you crossed you heard screech of a car pass and suddenly time seemed to stop. The car was coming towards you and you couldn't seem to move.

You felt someone push you and you fell onto the other side of the street.

You heard someone talking to you but they seemed so far away. Someone helped you to your feet and that's when you saw him.

The man who had saved your life.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he did a quick look over your body searching for any injuries.

You were still in shock, trying to process what had just happened.

"I think so."

The man sighed as he brushed a strand of hair out of you face, revealing a small scratch. As he looked at it, your mind finally seemed to catch up with reality as you took a good look at him. The man had dark blonde hair that was just a tad too long making it swoop down a bit in the front that only seemed to draw attention to his bright blue eyes which contrasted the small dark circles under his eyes that were even more apparent since he was frowning. There were small wrinkles around his eyes and mouth making it seem as though he was always frowning.

"Miss?"

You slightly flinched in surprise as you stared back at him.

"Yeah sorry."

He gave you a small smile that made him seem more handsome. It suited him much better than frowning.

"It's alright. That was quite the scare. I was just asking if you had hit your head. I could only see a scratched on the side of your face but it doesn't seem too bad."

You touched your face lightly where the scratch was.

"No I don't think I hit it. Sorry for being so out of it. I really though I was going to die for a second."

He nodded. "I bet."

You both stood there for a moment before you remembered you had to get to Jitters.

"I have to go but thank you so much for saving my life Mister-"

There was a small pause as the man's eyes flicked with uncertainty before he smiled again.

"Thawne. My name is Eobard Thawne."

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

"How? I thought he had always looked like Harrison Wells since the accident?" Harry asked you.

You sighed. "He said he had modified the device so he could switch back and forth as long as he had some form of Well's DNA."

Harry was quiet but you could tell he was trying to figure out how Eobard had done it.

Just as he was going to say something the meta human alert went off.

"We should go."

Harry glanced at you briefly.

"Alright but this isn't over."

You gave him a small smile. "I know."

As you got up you felt dizzy and sat back down.

"Stay here. The effects are starting to wear out." Harry said.

"But Barry.."

"Barry will be fine." Harry cut you off as he left.

As the door shut you fell back in the bed and groaned.

This was turning out to quite a crap day.

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

"Professor Thawne." The AI called out as Eobard headed back to STAR Labs.

"Yes Gideon?"

"There has been a slight disturbance in the timeline."

Eobard frowned.

Barry wasn't even the Flash yet so how could anything have changed?

"The woman you just saved."

Eobard looked at the AI questionably. "What about her?"

"She was supposed to die."

Taglist: @khayrrilrainxwells

I know this was short but I promise next part will be longer and more exciting! I LOVE feedback so don't be shy!