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drabbles-mc · 3 years ago

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A Little Closer

Happy Lowman x F!Reader

Request by @shinypeachkitten: Can you do a Happy Lowman smut where he Just simply make love to you? We know he is rough and all. But I would love to read his soft side in this

Warnings: 18+ like everything on this blog, alcohol, light angst, canon compliance/post s7 finale, unprotected sex, fingering

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: My first time writing smut for Happy and I kinda like that it was a soft scenario. Not that you need to read it, but I picture this taking place shortly after All That’s Left, hence the sad feels lol. Also, idk if you guys are interested but this was also inspired by the song Come A Little Closer by Dierks Bentley. We are full of fun facts today haha. Hope you enjoy! xo

SOA/Mayans Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @garbinge @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @lilah1903 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @punkgoddess-98 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindos @amorestevens @angelreyesisdaddy04 @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @bellisperennis0 @beardburnsupersoldiers @mveggieburger @thanossexual @xeniarocks @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @beardsanddetectives @bruxasolta @slut-bitch-brat @i-love-scott-mccall @espieviolet99 @i-just-read-stuff @unicornucopia-fuckers @jitterbugs927 @be-my-dear @sgtxliptons86 (If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know!)

The past couple of weeks had been showing you a side to Happy that you hadn’t seen before. For all of the amazing qualities that he had, all of the things that made you love him, he wasn’t the kind of man to ever really show his emotions. Good, bad, or indifferent, whatever he expressed was always a watered-down version of whatever he was actually feeling. You knew that was just how he operated—it wasn’t something that was going to change so you didn’t try.

In the days and weeks following the most volatile day of SAMCRO, though, there was a shift in Happy. He’d come home to you and cried one night, and from there on out it was like the two of you had shifted into a new chapter of a book. Things were similar, but definitely not the same.

He was home more often, as often as he could be, and softer with you behind closed doors. He wasn’t ever the kind of man to ignore you—you were always taken care of. You thought that maybe everything going on with the club was a wakeup call, thinking that this was his version of a mid-life crisis of sorts. He still didn’t say much about anything, even when you asked, but it was almost like he felt more. You didn’t mind it, but you just hoped that he knew that it wasn’t like you were going anywhere. You promised him that whatever it was, the two of you would figure it out, and you meant that.

You got home from work one night and saw his bike already parked in the driveway. Very rarely did he ever beat you home. Your brows furrowed, mind already going to the worst-case scenarios as you made your way up the driveway. With the way things had gone over the last couple of years, you started realizing that it was better to expect the worst rather than hope for the best.

Unlocking and pushing the door open, you called out for him, “Happy?”

He was standing at the kitchen counter, popping the top of a beer bottle as he turned around to face you, “Yea?”

Toeing off your shoes, you tossed your bag to the side as you walked over to him, “You’re home early.”

He nodded, pulling you so that you were tucked against his chest, “Just wanted to be home.”

You inhaled deeply, soaking up the scent of him, “Rough day?”

He gave a noncommittal grunt in response as he wrapped one arm tighter around you, using the other to lift the beer bottle to his lips. You knew that was all the response you were going to get out of him for the time being.

“Gimme a sip,” your tone was playful as you swiped the bottle from his hand.

He chuckled, watching you intently as you tipped it back, pressing the cold glass to your lips. When you looked back at him, you saw the way that his demeanor was shifting. He pulled you a little tighter, fingertips pressing a little harder into your back to keep you close. Desire darkened his eyes for a moment, but then it softened into something else, something with a little less hunger and a little more longing.

Handing him the bottle back, you gently cupped his chin, “C’mere,” you tugged him towards you and lightly pressed your lips to his. He softened into you the second you kissed him, both arms looping around you. Your hand slid from his chin up to his cheek before pulling back and looking at him, “You can talk to me, you know.”

He nodded, “I know.”

“You okay?” you hoped that he wasn’t going to lie to your face point-blank.

He rested his forehead against yours with a sigh, “Working on it.”

That was about as honest as it could get. All any of you seemed to be doing these days was working on trying to be okay. You traced your thumb along his cheek, “Thank you.”

You felt his hand move along your back followed by the sound of the beer bottle clinking against the counter. The two of you had hardly put a dent in it, but you could tell by the rise and fall of his chest against yours that it was the least of his concerns right now. He shifted you carefully, pressing you back against the counter and gripping the edges of it on either side of you. His lips were impossibly close to yours but still not quite touching, his arms and legs boxing you in against the cool granite behind you. Still, even caged in, feeling the heat of his breath flush against your skin, there was something gentle about it all.

It didn’t feel dominating like it had in the past, despite the position he had you in. The tiny gap between your lips and his was filled with his silent pleas to tell him that it was okay, that you wanted him. The lack of contact had its own kind of softness.

“I love you,” if the house hadn’t been silent, he wouldn’t have been able to hear you.

His body eased with relief as he leaned in and caught your lips in a deep kiss. He pressed his body to yours, chest to chest as he tightened his grip on the edge of the counter, like he didn’t trust himself to touch you for fear that he might break, not you. You let yourself fold underneath the pressure, leaning back. Your hands started on his shoulders before slowly sliding down his arms until they reached his hands. Interlocking your fingers with his, you gave his hands a light squeeze.

He met your grip, squeezing back with the same intensity as he pressed his lips harder against yours. You could tell from the desperation of his movements that he was looking for something to anchor him, and you were more than happy to be that for him.

Prying his lips away from yours, he stepped back and tugged you with him, “Come on.”

He pulled you so that you were in front of him, your back pressed against his chest. With each step the two of you took, he pressed another kiss to your neck, your ear, your shoulder, anywhere he could reach. His hands slipped easily into the pockets of the skirt you were wearing, using the leverage to make sure you stayed pinned to him.

Even though it was just the two of you in the house, and it was really only ever the two of you, he kicked the door shut once you’d both crossed the threshold of the bedroom. Sliding his hands out of your pockets, he spun you around so that you were facing him, wasting no time as he cupped the side of your face and kissed you on the lips, soft and slow and full of need. You wrapped your arms around his waist, hands slipping beneath the fabric of his shirt and trailing lightly up and down the warm skin of his back.

The longer you kissed him, the more you noticed every little shift in the rest of his body. His breathing sped up, his hand that wasn’t delicately holding your cheek came to rest on your hip. Inch by inch he walked you back towards the bed, not taking his lips off of yours the entire time. You felt the backs of your calves brush against the side of your bed and you fought the urge to fall back onto the mattress.

His grip on your hip tightened, his other hand sliding down from your cheek to the side of your throat. His fingers began to tighten, and while you didn’t mind it, you knew that it wasn’t really what he was looking for.

Pulling out of what felt like a blissful, never-ending kiss, you fought to catch your breath as you waited for Happy to look at you, “Hey,” your voice was soft as you gripped lightly onto his biceps, “I’m not going anywhere. We’re okay.”

The tension melted out of his body at your words, his grip loosening immediately. Resting his forehead back against yours, he let his hand slide from your hip to the back of your skirt, easily pulling the zipper down and letting the fabric pool on the floor around your feet. His hands gently explored all the newly exposed skin, fingertips skimming over the waistband of your panties as he kissed you again. His hands found their way to the front of your shirt, and he began undoing the buttons of your blouse with relaxed, expert precision. He easily pushed the thin fabric off your shoulders and let it join your discarded skirt on the floor.

In return, you lightly tangled your fingers into the bottom hem of his shirt and pushed it up his torso, letting him pull it off the rest of the way and toss it to the side. In a quick, gentle motion he lifted you off the ground and laid you down on the bed. Before you could blink he was settled over you, forearms braced on either side of your head as he leaned in and kissed you.

You could feel the tension in his body, like he was fighting to have restraint and be soft. He wasn’t incapable of it, but it wasn’t what came naturally to him. It was what he needed though, and you knew that. Sliding your hands up his arms and across his shoulders, you stopped when they were cupping the sides of his face. Running your thumbs along his cheekbones, you felt the tension slowly starting to disappear, his muscles relaxing as he melted into you.

Shifting his weight, he slowly brought one hand down your chest, fingertips feather-light and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. They traveled over the fabric of your bra and continued down your stomach before reaching the hem of your underwear. The gasp you let out was muffled by his lips as he continued to kiss you while he slipped his fingers beneath the thin fabric.

You arched into his touch, and you felt him easily maneuver to that you couldn’t get the contact that you were on the brink of whining for. Always a tease, even in a moment like that. He didn’t hold off for long, though, and you moaned into his mouth as he traced his fingers along your folds, and you could hear the shift in his breathing when he felt how badly you wanted him. He gently eased them into you, and only then did you break your kiss as you let out a shuddering breath. Your hands dropped to his shoulders, gripping onto him like you were afraid he was going to stop.

He pulled back, wanting to be able to see your face. He slowly began pump his fingers, mesmerized by the way your eyes fluttered, the way your mouth hung open slightly as you soaked up every sensation. His other hand rested on the side of your face, his thumb pulling down on your bottom lip for a moment before you turned, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand.

“Happy,” your voice was half whine, half whisper. When his eyes locked onto yours, you squeezed his shoulder, “I need you.”

He dipped his head down, kissing you hard on the lips before sliding his fingers back out of you. You whined against his lips at the loss of contact, but you were quickly distracted by the way he was sliding your panties down, lifting your hips so he could slip them off all the way. Once he tossed them to the side you started unbuckling his belt, and in what felt like no time at all, he was tossing his jeans and underwear onto the floor as well.

He was about to reposition himself on top of you, but you stopped him with a gentle palm against his chest. You pushed him lightly, nodding for him to lie down on his back. You could see it in his eyes that it caught him off-guard, but he didn’t fight you on it at all—he was putty in your hands.

Swinging your leg over him, you straddled his hips. His hands slid up your hips and sides, eyes traveling over every inch of your body as you positioned yourself over him. He let out a sharp exhale as you lowered yourself onto him, his hands instinctively grabbing onto your hips. You let out a quiet fuck under your breath as you laid your hands on his chest. His touch lightened as you adjusted to him, his hands snaking up your chest.

Once you found your rhythm, you could tell that Happy was fighting the urge to let his eyes shut in bliss. He wanted to see you, watch you and feel close to you when he felt so far away from everything else. But as the sensations flooded through him, it was hard not to get lost in it and let his eyes close.

“Come here,” you sounded as breathless as you felt as you gave his hand a slight tug, urging him to sit up, “closer.”

He did as you asked, his hands keeping you secure against him as he readjusted your positions. Your hands rested on his shoulders as his arms wrapped around your waist. You felt his hand creep up your back, making quick work of the clasp of your bra before sliding the straps down. He could hardly wait for you to remove it completely before flinging it off the bed. Wrapping his arms tight around you again, he reveled in the heat seeping from the bare skin of your chest into his. He kissed you hard on the lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you used his shoulders for leverage to get your rhythm back. He grabbed onto your hips, moving and helping you along. Peeling his mouth off of yours, he buried his face into your neck as he listened to the soft whimpers falling from your lips.

“Happy,” it was a whine, a plea, asking for something that you weren’t quite sure of.

He kissed the soft skin where your neck met your shoulder, and you could feel his lips move against you, his words muffled as he told you, “I love you.”

Your hands slid from his shoulders to his back, pressing his chest tighter to yours, “I love you too.”

It wasn’t long before you were coming undone around him. Happy clung to you for dear life, teeth sinking lightly into your shoulder as he basked in how you felt, and knowing that it was him that made you feel that way. The sound of you repeating his name in nearly inaudible whispers filled his ears, and when he felt you trying to pull him even closer, even farther into you, that’s when he spilled into you. A low moan that died down into a shuddered breath came out of him as he gripped your hips, pinning you down onto him as much as he could.

The two of you sat like that for a little while, all tangled up as you attempted to catch your breath. Happy stayed tucked against you, forehead resting against your shoulder while he soaked up the feeling of you lightly scratching the back of his head. He released his grip on you, allowing his hands to blindly wander around your body. His touch was soft, reassuring.

Leaning back, you forced his head up as you peeled your chest apart from his. Your hands rested lightly on his shoulders, thumbs rubbing idle circles into the muscles there. You couldn’t stop the soft smile that took over your features as you looked at him. He looked a little dazed, but you could see it in his eyes that it was the most present he’d been in a long time. It was just the two of you, shut away in your bedroom, and for once there was nothing more to it than that.

You leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips, and you were rewarded with him resting his forehead against yours before he shut his eyes. He took a deep breath, focusing on your breathing and the feeling of your hands massaging his muscles that had been tensed up for far too long. You tried to think of the right thing to say, something loving and reassuring, but as you listened to the sound of his breathing beginning to level out, you thought to yourself that maybe this was enough. The closeness said more than your words ever could.

#sons of anarchy #soa #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #mayans mc #happy lowman #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman x you #happy lowman fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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heytheredeann · 2 years ago

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Geralt/Yennefer [Ao3 version]

Well, I just missed writing these two and I miraculously managed to come up with something short LOL. I'd say that the characterization is closer to the books, but maybe it can fit some point later in the show too, the setting is vague anyway. Enjoy!

His intentions are, simply put, to throw himself on the bed and sleep for as long as he’ll be allowed to.

He barely kicks off his boots before heavily dropping on his stomach, turning his face to his right so that he can better inhale Yennefer’s reassuringly familiar scent. His shoulders slump, his muscles beginning to relax and his head already growing heavy, surely about to drag him under for at least a few blissful hours—

“What, precisely, do you think you are doing?!”

Or not.

Eyes still closed, he sighs. “Sleeping.”

“You are bleeding.”

Probably. The fight wasn’t too messy, but it took a lot out of him, and he’d been in need of some proper rest even before he was forced to stay up for most of the night.

He squeezes his eyes to get rid of the bits of morning light that he can still see through his eyelids, humming in acknowledgement at Yennefer’s complaint. “Doesn’t hurt,” he informs her, hoping that will settle it.

Predictably, it doesn’t.

“That’s because of that shit that you keep poisoning yourself with,” she spits out, the mattress shifting as she moves. He feels her climb over him, careful not to put her weight on him. “Wait a few hours and then we’ll see if it doesn’t hurt.” She grabs him by the shoulders, slowly rolling him on his back.

“Yen,” he protests, following her movements and bringing up one arm to shield his eyes. Not his preferred position to sleep in, but he can roll with it.

“Quit whining,” she reprimands. “I’m taking care of this whether you like it or not. I have errands to run and I would be extremely annoyed if I came back to a corpse to dispose of, understood?”

He smiles, affection bursting in his chest and overriding his need for sleep for a moment, to the point that he genuinely considers opening his eyes and talking to her until she has to leave. They haven’t had much time to spend together lately, have they? He’s missed her.

Of course, soon enough exhaustion dawns on him again. “I love you too, Yen,” he only says then, the smile still not vanished from his face.

“Trying to soften me up I see,” she mutters, but the edge is gone from her voice, and her fingers brush his chin before she resumes her work.

“I could never.”

All in all, he thinks he prefers falling asleep to her hands caring for him and her exasperated grumblings in his ears.

#yenralt #yenralt fic #the witcher fic #geralt x yennefer #yennefer x geralt #the witcher #not spn #my fanfic #unusual hour for me to post fics but i have to take a train in a couple of hours #and then i'll be at my parents' place which means probably not much alone time #so yeah since this was ready i wanted to publish it loool

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littlepadika · 4 years ago

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Calling Home (5) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues…

Rating: E (18+ only)

Warnings: age gap (legal), dilf!frankie, praise kink, voice kink, size kink, low self esteem, discussion of addiction/ptsd/trauma/triggers, divorce drama, no use of y/n, no beta reader, DDLG🎀, unprotected piv sex, oral m and oral f, hickies galore👅, mild BDSM (cuffs⛓, choking).

Masterlist here

AN: Whatta ride... but all things come to an end🥺. i'm blown away by the support for this fic. Thank you all 💕.

Chapter Five

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Frankie had his own mental list of stuff he needed to do before you would arrive. He dunged out his closet to make room for your clothes. It was long overdue. He had a lot of things he didn’t wear anymore that needed to go. He went out and bought some more plates and silverware since his two plates and Rosie’s plastic plates would not do. He no longer looked around his home with a sense of loneliness, now he pictured all the places you could fit in. He could see you reading by the window in the living room so he bought a comfy new chair to put there. He noticed your small plant collection in your apartment and thought you’d maybe like a bigger one in the back yard so he bought a planter box.

He was reading your novel, titled Our Little Kingdom, while your candle burned. You didn't give it to him at first. While you were in the bathroom and Frankie washed your dishes, he noticed a stack of papers poking out in the trash. It was your manuscript. When you came back and saw him reading it you tried to take it back but Frankie insisted and you caved. It was good. Frankie wasn't just saying that because he loved you. He could see how great writers had influenced you and still it was uniquely your voice. The story, too, was compelling. He couldn't help but imagine you as the protagonist as she was just as sweet and clever.

You were making good progress on your list. You had put in your two weeks notice and started to applying to jobs in Miami. You enjoyed working with veterans so you hoped you could do something similar again. As two weeks went by you were disappointed you still hadn't heard back from job interviews. Packing was a little more difficult. You didn’t know what was worth taking and what was worth leaving. You knew Frankie had most everything already so it was a matter of picking your most special things. The rest you were slowing taking to Goodwill in batches.

You had completely forgotten you sent your book in to publishers until a flurry of emails came in on the same day.

Frankie woke up in the middle of the night to his phone ringing. He sat up pulling the phone towards him. It was you. Why would you be calling so late? Maybe something was wrong?

“Frankie?” You sounded congested. He heard a sniffle. Frankie furrowed his brow at that.

“Hey. Is everything all right?”

“ They-they-“ you could barely get it out “they rejected me.”

“Who?”

“All of them. All of the book agencies.” You threw yourself onto your bed, hot tears running down your face.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry, sweet pea.” Frankie didn’t know whether to be sad or angry. He thought your book was amazing. He sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp. “They’re idiots. Every one of them.”

“They’re experts, Frankie.” You felt more tears leak from your eyes. “Maybe I’m just not a good writer. Maybe-Maybe-" You hiccuped and low cry slipped from your mouth. You covered your mouth, taking in raking breaths. It was agony to admit this to him when he believed in you most. You felt like you had let him down. Frankie's heart literally ached in his chest as he listened to your quiet weeping over the phone. He waited for you to continue, feeling his own eyes grow misty.

“Don’t disappear on me, little pea. Let me hear that voice of yours.”

You were unable to speak. Scared of what may come out. You felt like your walls were closing in around you and mocking you. How did you ever think you could be a writer like all your favorite authors? You were so stupid, you thought.

“I let you down.” You said shakily.

“No no no, little pea.” Frankie said quickly. “You could never let me down. I don’t need to a book agent to tell me you’re a good writer. I know you’re writing is beautiful and perfect. Just like you.”

His praise caused another wave of tears from you.

“Daddy…” You bawled.

“I hear you, baby.” Frankie heard his own voice shake with emotion. He never hated the distance more than he did in this moment. He needed to wrap you up in his arms. “Close your eyes, sweet pea. Use that big imagination of yours. Pretend I’m there with you.”

“Imagination isn’t good enough, daddy.” You blubbered, fat tears slipping from your eyes.

“I know, baby.” Frankie’s heart was breaking. “But try for me okay?”

You clamped your eyes shut and tried to focus in on his breathing on the other end of the phone. Frankie did the same, closing his eyes.

“Good, sweet pea. Focus on daddy.” He wished he was there to comfort you, wrap you up in his arms and shield you from the cruel cruel world. “I’m next to you. I’m holding you so tight.”

“Hold me tighter!” You begged holding your pillow pet to your chest.

“Okay. I just did.” Frankie whispered closing his eyes as if it would be more real. “Feel that?”

“Yeah…” A moment went by as you steadied your breathing. Tears eventually stopped falling, drying against your cheeks. Frankie’s steady breathing anchored you.

“I loved your book. It was really really good. And fuck it, I’ll publish it myself.” Frankie couldn't help but raise his voice.

“Silly.” You sniffled.

“I’m serious, sweet pea. Who needs those stuck up assholes.”

“Hmm yeah, you’re right.” You agreed, voice softening with sleepiness. You pushed your face into your pillow. You could still smell Frankie if you really focused. "I miss you, Frankie."

"I miss you, too."

"I still haven't heard from any jobs. And- maybe I'm just not good enough and-" You felt more tears fill your eyes.

"Shhh shhh" Frankie interrupted "Listen to me. You are the best. The right thing will turn up i'm sure of it."

"But it's the only thing left on the list!"

"I know..." Frankie pulled over your copy of the list that you wrote for him. He had crossed things off as you reported to him. "Let's see if they get back to you tomorrow." Maybe he was being too hard on you, making you get a job first. He only wanted to put it on there to give you some independence over the move. He didn't want you to feel like you had nothing to do once you got here.

Frankie waited until your breathing evened out. He called your name quietly. When he got no response he assumed you fell asleep. He didn’t want to hang up. He missed you so fucking much and he felt helpless.

When he woke up the next morning, he said goodbye to Rosalia as usual, called in sick, and started driving north. Fuck the list. You were coming home with him now.

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Of course Frankie called you telling you he was on his way. You felt bad for making him miss work but your excitement overpowered any guilt. You set a timer for 14 hours and started packing with new energy. Your eyes were still puffy from your tears last night. But you repeated what Frankie said like a mantra. Who needs those stuck up assholes. There were tons of ways to self publish nowadays. It didn’t have to be through a publishing house.

When you ran out of things to clean up and pack, you watched out the window waiting to see Frankie’s blue pick up. You had changed into sleep shorts and a t shirt. While you had a plan to dress more sexy you ended up accidentally packing that surprise in one of the boxes earlier today. It was getting dark when Frankie finally pulled up. He looked exhausted but still… Frankie. He was wearing his favorite hat and grey t shirt. You ran down to the street to meet him. He’s pulling empty boxes from the bed of the truck when he sees you sprinting towards him.

“Sweet pea!” He smiled as you launched yourself into his arms. “Oof.” You buried you face in his shirt inhaling his scent. He rubbed your back affectionately enjoying having you back in his arms. “Aw… it’s okay. It’s okay now.” He murmured when he heard you sniffle. He oddly felt his chest swell with pride at how much you missed him. He never had to worry about how you felt about him. He peeled your head off him by stroking your head. You looked up at him with a watery smile. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

You snickered at his dad phases. “I’m ready. Well… I still have some stuff I need to pack up. Too heavy.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Frankie kissed you chastely. You pulled him in for more though, fisting his shirt in your hands. “Mmm no no. Work first. Play later.” Frankie pulled back. You pouted but have to agree with his logic. The faster you packed the faster you could leave.

Back in your apartment Frankie got to work taking apart your bed and dresser. You finished packing your clothes and dusting.

“Hey what’s this? It was under the bed.” Frankie walked over holding a gift bag with pink tissue paper sticking up.

��Oh…” You quickly grabbed it away. “That’s supposed to be a surprise. For Rosie.”

“You got her a present?” Frankie was touched by your thoughtfulness.

“Yeah I mean… I figured it might make her like me more.”

“She already likes you, but she can never have too many toys.” Frankie stepped further into your space. You realize at that moment how sweaty he was from moving all the furniture. It was so late at night and you were both exhausted but the sudden rush of his thicker smell made you feel wide awake. “Can I see what you got her?”

You handed the package back over, watching him gingerly move the tissue paper to the side. His eyes softened when he saw the pink unicorn pillow pet sitting in the bag. A mini version of yours.

“Am I too presumptuous making us matching? I don’t know if she likes unicorns and-" Frankie cut you off, dropping the bag and kissing you up against the wall. He wasn't even sure what part of that turned him on, just your sweetness and wanting to be a part of his family. He held your face in his hands, his grip forcing your mouth open. You felt yourself start to grow wet. You loved when he just went caveman on you. Sometimes he didn’t have the words to express how much he loved you so he reverted to touch; to deep kisses and deep thrusts. His hands trailed down your exposed legs so he could lift you up on his hips. You held onto his shoulders as he swung you around. The bed was gone, the couch was gone.

"Fuck. Hang on."

You laughed as he ran you out to the kitchen to set you down on the counter. You pawed at his pants trying to undo his belt, but Frankie was faster, unhooking your bra from under your shirt and then pulling your shirt over your head. He took your hand and placed it over his large bulge between his legs.

“Feel what you do to me…” He gritted through his teeth his chest rising and falling sharply.

 “Frankie- oh my god-please let me” You pulled he belt loose. At first he stops you. “I didn’t get to last time. Please?” He bit his lip considering your plea. He really just wanted to give and give and give to you. But he had been mean last time, not letting you touch his cock. So this time he doesn’t stop you as you unbutton his pants and pull him out of his boxers. You licked your lips as his cock fell into your hand, curving up towards you.

You hopped off the counter, getting onto your knees before him. “Take off your shirt… please?” He obliged. You kissed down his belly feeling it tighten against your lips. He watched you with fire in his eyes, his mouth slightly parted. You pushed the rest of his pants and boxers down. You stroked him slowly with both hands.

“You have to tell me what you like…” You held his cock and licked a long stripe from the base to the head making him moan weakly. You repeat the motion adding a few kitten licks at the end, lapping up the stray drops of salty precum. Frankie was struggling to think let alone speak. He gripped the countertop above you, his other hand going to the back of your head.

“Just- go slow.” You followed his instructions, slowly taking his length in your mouth. “Good-good girl.” He clenched his jaw staring down at the sight. Your hot mouth felt like heaven and your innocent eyes staring up at him was just the cherry on top. You took his dick as far as you could before you choked lightly. You were by no means an expert at giving blowjobs but you were frustrated you couldn't go further. Your jaw was already aching from his girth.

“Mm don’t hurt yourself, baby.” He hissed unable to hold his hips still, he jerked a little against you making you whine. “Come back up, remember to breathe.”

You slowly pulled off his cock before going down again. Frankie’s hand on your head gently guided you so you didn’t hurt your throat. You added suction, applying pressure on the underside of his cock. You started to find what he liked based on his sounds. You still couldn’t take him all the way in your mouth, tears gathered in corner of your eyes from the effort. Your hand pumped the rest that wouldn’t fit.

“Oh fuck.” Frankie gasped his hips jerking again making his cock slide back into your mouth. You moved one of your hands to his hips looking up at him to say it was okay. “Are you-you want me to fuck your mouth, sweet pea?” You nodded eagerly. You put one of you hands on his length where he wouldn’t fit. He gathered up some of your hair in a makeshift ponytail and slowly thrust into your mouth. Like he always did, he waited for you to nod and give him the okay. When you did, he couldn’t help the growl that left his throat. Drool leaked from your mouth onto your chest as he sped up using your head more forcefully. You were sure you had soaked through your panties. It turned you on so much to see him take control, use you for his pleasure, but still his grip on you was firm and gentle. Every grunt went straight to your pussy. “Such a good girl letting me use this hole, too.” He rasped. “You’re crying around my cock.”

“Mmhm” You hummed around his dick making him groan. He was close. He was battering the back of your throat. You could recognize the furrowed brow and the tightening of his balls. You intensified your ministrations.

“Good girl, good-I’m gonna cum in your little mouth.” He pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop. “Stick out your tongue, sweet pea.” He ordered. You obeyed, watching greedily as he fisted himself harshly the tip of his cock hitting your tongue. You placed your hands on either side of his tummy, anticipating his load. His chest was flush and his eyes were fluttering shut. When he came he yanked your head up harshly as cum splashed onto your tongue. You loved this perspective, watching his face contort with pleasure. You tried to take every drop but some dripped down your chin. “Swallow.” Frankie ordered roughly still maintaining his grip on your head. You swallowed, his warm cum sliding down your throat.

“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled up at him, wiping some of the stray cum off your chin. He let go of your hair, now stroking your head then your jaw. “Did I do well?”

“So good.” He chuckled and helped you stand, his breath still ragged. You squirmed pressing your thighs together. The move not missed by Frankie. “Did sucking my cock make you wet, sweet pea?”

You nodded shyly before saying “It’s okay though. You don’t have to-it’s late and we have a long drive tomorrow.”

“You’re always looking out for me but what kind of man would I be if I left you all needy. But you have to ask for it, sweet pea.”

“I kinda just want your mouth if that’s okay?” You asked feeling too tired for a full round of sex.

“Of course.” Frankie smiled. “Your mattress is still in the bedroom.” He led you in and helped settle you on the center of the mattress. He pulled your shorts and underwear off, staring at your slick reddened pussy. "You soaked your little panties, sweet pea. Did you touch your little flower while I was gone?" Frankie asked, pulling apart your legs.

"I-I tried to. But it wasn't the same."

"How come, little pea?" His patronizing tone had your cunt clenching. He was teasing you.

"It wasn't your fingers. I needed you." You huffed, trying to push his head down onto you.

"Mmm poor thing." Frankie chuckled, the rich sound giving you goosebumps. He felt his cock start to harden again despite you just sucked the soul out of him moments ago. He slowly licked up your slit moaning at the taste of you. Your head tipped back as he he slowly inserted a finger into you. "Eyes on me." He instructed. You forced your head back down so you could make eye contact. "Play with your tits for me." You obeyed, squeezing the flesh in your hand. He returned to his task, taking your clit in between his lips, quickly escalating your climax. Your hands never stood a chance. He inserted a second finger, curling it against you. They were so thick and long it hit that spot deep inside you it made you gush.

"Oh my god. Daddy-I'm-" You teetered on the precipice your breath caught in your throat. Your entire body erupted in flames as your mouth open in a silent scream. Frankie's eyes widened as your pussy strangled his fingers before fluttering uncontrollably. Your cum dripped onto his hand, he quickly replaced his fingers with his tongue trying to catch it all.

"That's it." He felt you finally take a shaking inhale. "Breathe, sweet pea. Breathe." Exhaustion hit you hard as every muscle relaxed.

"I'm sleepy..." You slurred.

"It's okay. You can go to sleep." Frankie leaned up kissing you, smearing your slick all over your mouth. He returned to licking your pussy less aggressively though. "I got you."

You nodded before drifting off.

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

The next morning you dump the last of your stuff at goodwill, packed the truck, turned in your key, and hit the road. You were bouncing in your seat with excitement. You hadn’t ever traveled south of DC. The landscape was beautiful. You and Frankie took turns driving, belting Fleetwood Mac on repeat. You forced Frankie to take obligatory selfies to remember the journey at rest stops or whenever the view was worthy. Over halfway to Miami you paused at a rest stop for a quick nap. Frankie was anxious to get you home and he didn’t want to stay put for too long. He was used to long drives and quick naps, but you weren’t. He didn’t want to exhaust you because there was so much he wanted to show you when you arrived. You laid across the backseat of the truck with your head in Frankie’s lap as the sun was going down.

In the early morning Frankie finished the drive. His own excitement increased when he was back in the city. You had your head nearly sticking out of the window looking at everything. You couldn’t believe how sunny and warm it was here. Frankie turned down a residential street. “Almost there.” He said. You buzzed in your seat.

Frankie made one last turn into a driveway. You instantly got warm feelings looking at the house. It was painted seagull grey with white trim. It was wonderfully symmetrical with two windows on the first and second floor with window boxes outside the first floor window. The front yard was nicely mowed.

“Your house is so cute!” You hopped out of the car, your legs enjoying the chance to stretch. The air smelled slightly salty being so close to the beach. The sun felt wonderful on your skin. You could have laid down in the grass and just fallen asleep.

Frankie showed you around his house with your hand in his, pointing out random things of importance in his giddy state. You followed him around with bright adoring eyes. Despite looking forward to this moment for a while, you barely looked at anything except for him. You could care less about where the tile for the fireplace came from. You didn’t remember Frankie’s story about how Will messed up his back moving in Frankie’s couch in because it was hitting you over and over again that you were home with Frankie. You didn’t pay attention to the story behind Rosie’s crib because Frankie was here with you. His warm hand holding you close like you may disappear. He was here with that damn cute excited voice as he showed you around his home, soon to be your home.

“Sweet pea? Earth to sweet pea?”

“Hmmm?” You smiled apologetically. Standing in the kitchen, the sun pouring in from the window above the sink bathed Frankie in golden light making him look ethereal.

“I said- we should start moving boxes in before it gets dark.”

“You haven’t shown me everything yet.” You realized.

“What did I miss?”

“Your room…” You swung your entwined hands back and forth.

“Our room, sweet pea.”

“So I won’t be sleeping on the floor?” You laughed.

“Never.” He kissed you briefly. “I just haven’t cleaned up in there and I need to make some space for your stuff and-“

“Frankie.” You quiet his rambling with another kiss. You couldn’t stop kissing him. “Your house is immaculate. That’s the room I want to see.”

He swallowed harshly before he led you up the stairs and down the narrow hallway to his room. While showing you the garden and the other rooms he was giddy but now he seemed more flustered. When you opened the door you could see why. Your candle was sitting on his bedside table. It was the first thing you saw when you walked in.

You immediately break away from him, going to inspect his bedside table. Glimpses of Frankie that made you love him all the more. Your candle, your books, your list, his sergeant pin, and an old alarm clock.

“Was this what you’re so embarrassed about?” You asked picking up the candle. It was almost used up. He averted his gaze. The back of his neck bright red which you recognized as a sign of his nervousness. “Frankie…” You set it down and took both his hands in yours. You couldn’t even convey what it meant to you. He had missed you that much that he burned your candle.

“I have the real thing now.” He said pulling you against his chest, dragging his nose over your cheek in reverence. You hummed in contentment. “This is our room, sweet pea. Our home.” He whispered.

“Our bed.” You added moving his hands to rest on your ass, wrapping your own around his neck.

 “Eager girl.” He tutted, kissing just below your ear, squeezing your ass lightly.

“I can’t help it. I’ve waited so long, Frankie.” You tilt your head up resting your forehead against his.

“You’ll never have to wait again, princesa pea. I’m here.”

“Then I want you now.” You tugged him towards the bed. Falling down onto his comforter you were hit by a puff of his scent. Laundry detergent, old spice, and that indescribable musk that was Frankie. You barely got a chance to enjoy it before Frankie is falling on top of you. You laughed as he pulled you up the bed until you’re against the pillows. He's about to rip your clothes from you but-

“Wait wait- I have a gift for you.” His eyes lit up.

“Frankie…” You smiled “You didn’t have to get me anything.” He pushed away from you, walking over to his dresser. He pulled out a small package.

 “Here.” He handed it to you.

You sat up. You felt guilty you didn’t get him a gift. You slowly peeled back the tape trying to save the paper. It was wrapped so nicely.

“Come on, rip it up. It’s just paper.”

“No… I wanna save it.” You argued, pulling it open finally. You stared down at the contents in your lap. It was a book with a pink cover and loopy writing. Our Little Kingdom. “Frankie… this is- this is my book.” You felt your eyes swim with tears.

“I know.” Frankie knelt in front of you. “I read it and it was so good. I wanted to get it bound. I was serious when I said want to publish it. I want to make it happen. But if you don’t want to at least we can enjoy it how it’s meant to be enjoyed.”

You flipped through the pages smelling the fresh paper. You reached the end and noticed Frankie had slipped in something as a book mark. It was a torn half of a check. “This is…”

“The check I tore up. I use it as a bookmark so I thought you would-“

You launched yourself at Frankie, a habit you learned from him when words were just simply not enough.

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

When you woke up, you were surrounded by Frankie’s scent, warm sun hitting your face. Frankie wasn't there. You heard movement downstairs. You threw on the first shirt of Frankie's you could find. You practically skipped down the stairs, heart leaping when you saw Frankie in his PJ pants and nothing else sitting at the kitchen table. His body was lit up in the morning sun, he looked like a goddamn dream. He was shoveling some cereal into his mouth but he stopped when he noticed you. He still looked so sexy to you in this moment, his strong arms and big hand gripping the small spoon. His chest littered with small hickies you made. You blinked a couple of times wanting to imprint this image into your brain forever.

“What are you doing up so early?”

“The sun woke me up!”

“Shit. I would have made you some breakfast or something.”

“That’s okay.” You smiled going to stand in front of him. You kissed him, licking some of the milk from his lips. Your hands rested on his bare golden shoulders. You loved how wide they were and how solid and warm they felt.

“Mmm is this mine, sweet pea?” He tugged at the Fleetwood Mac shirt hanging down to your thighs.

“No, it’s another boys.” You teased.

“Don’t joke about that, little pea.” Frankie warned with a small swipe to your ass.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You giggled. “I was only joking. No one else has cool shirts like you.”

“You want some cereal? I can also make eggs or pancakes or-“

“I want-” You slipped your hand over his pants. You could feel his slightly hard cock sitting below. “This.”

“You already had some last night and you still want more?” Frankie groaned his thighs spreading further around you. “I thought you’d be sore, sweet pea.”

“I am.” You admitted kissing him quickly. “but I still want you.”

“Mmm…” Frankie pulled your hand away watching you pout. “I think you need to eat something first.”

“No I don’t!”

“Come on, I’ll let you sit on your special seat.” He tapped his thigh. You debated this. You decided to do what he asked, not wanting to test your luck so early in the day. You hopped up on his lap wiggling back until his semi hard cock was pressed against your back. Your thighs sitting over his legs, your pussy peaking out from his shirt. Frankie rested his big hands on your bare thighs rubbing the skin back and forth. You closed your eyes enjoying his touch. You could feel his breath against your neck as he looked down at the sight.

“Do I look good on my special seat, daddy?” You asked looking up at him.

“Perfect, my little pea.” Frankie smiled. He pulled the cereal over and you popped a bite in your mouth. You didn’t normally like cereal but since Frankie asked…

“Okay, done. I’ve eaten.”

“Woah I hardly call that eating.” Frankie shook his head. He placed a hand on your stomach, fingers splayed out over the entire width almost. He applied a little pressure which had you squirming again. God his hands were so big and warm just above where you needed him. “I can feel little rumblings telling me you’re hungry, sweet pea.” You rock against him more intentionally making him catch his breath.

“Not for cereal.” You bit your lip.

“One more bite, sweet pea. For daddy?” He rubbed his beard into your neck which never failed to make you to laugh.

 You took another spoonful of the soggy cereal before looking up at him for approval. He chuckled as you chewed quickly. You looked so cute with your cheeks full. It made cock ache.

“Good job, sweet pea.” He smirked when you swallowed it all. He lowered his hand down to cup your pussy which was already dripping. You hand flew to his thick forearm.

You melted against him as he rubs your clit slowly. Last night was hurried and desperate but now it was like he had all the time in the world. You listened to him take large inhale against your neck, smelling you.

“You look so beautiful, sweet pea. In my shirt. In our kitchen.”

“Fuck…” You moaned. His fingers felt so wonderful and thick against you. You fucking loved the sound of that. Ours.

“I’m gonna fuck you on our table.”

He lifted you up with ease, pushing your back down on the table. The sun coming through the window bathed your body in soft light. You looked divine. Frankie had your legs spread wide, tongue on that pussy before you could even blink. “Holy shit. Daddy!” Your hands clenched into fists at your side.

“Sweet pea.” Frankie pulled off, lips wetted by your slick. You blushed under his hot gaze. “Why don’t you pull my hair?”

You whimpered as he took your little fist and put it in his beautiful locks. “I want to but… the last person I was with didn’t like it.” You turned your head to the side trying to hide your embarrassment. His hair felt like silk in your hands.

“Hey-“ Frankie gently grabbed your chin and turned you to look at him. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.” He was leaning over you, invading all your senses, but of course the aspect that hit you hardest was his voice. Soft and reassuring. That rich baritone that made you fall in love in the first place. “Pull my hair, baby, I wanna know how well I treat this pussy. You won’t hurt me.”

You nodded feeling your eyes wet with tears. His affection never ceased to shock you. He kissed you, softening your worried look with each stroke of his tongue. When you were relaxed, he returned to your pussy. He was a fast learner for the times, applying the pressure you needed with his tongue while hitting that spot inside your walls with his fingers. Your hands were laced in his soft hair tugging almost unconsciously.

“Fuck-Daddy" You gasped feeling your breath. Your stomach tightened but you still felt like you weren't quite to your breaking point. "I can't- I need- I need-"

"What, sweet pea, what do you need?" Frankie paused, looking at you struggle above him. You grabbed his hand which was holding your hip and moved it to your throat. "Holy shit." Frankie's eyes widened.

"I need you to push me over-" you struggled to think of how to explain it but Frankie started applying light pressure over your throat making your cunt tighten around his fingers. The strain on your airway finally brought you to the edge. He returned to your clit and didn’t let up even as your walls clamped and gushed around his fingers. Didn’t stop as your back arched off the table, your toes curled, and your hands pulled his hair almost painfully. He let go of your throat when you tapped his wrist and your breath returned ragged and sharp, extending your orgasm. You brushed some of Frankie’s hair from his forehead and he looked up, making eye contact, as his lips suckled on your clit lightly. You didn’t say anything for a moment, feeling your body come down from that peak, basking in Frankie’s loving gaze between your legs. You felt boneless.

“I love you.” You murmured. Frankie surged up, capturing your lips in a wet kiss. He pulled back and kissed the happy tears falling from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.

“I love you, too. I’m never letting you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m home.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, needing to feel that promise inside you. Needing his promise filling you up.

“Are you sure you’re not too sore?”

“I’m sure.” You ran your hand through his hair, now addicted to the feeling of it.

Frankie slowly eased himself into your pussy. It was harder without lube. You winced a little once he was fully inside. Fuck he was so big.

"Am I hurting you?" Frankie felt bad and started to pull out.

"No please." You arched your back trying to hold him inside. "I'm okay. I want- I want-."

"Sweet pea..." He bit his lip as he struggled to resist thrusting into you.

"And if I can't walk- then you can carry me." You wiggled your hips. Frankie couldn't help but laugh at that not that he minded carrying you around. "Please, daddy." You asked one last time as you dug your heels into his lower back. Frankie placed his hands on your waist and started fucking into you slowly, withdrawing almost all the way out before thrusting back in again.

“I’m so proud of you… taking my cock like a good girl.” He kissed you softly, moving to kiss a train down your neck to your nipples and back up. "You're home now." You nodded in agreement. "This is our little kingdom, sweet pea.” Your shallow breaths slowly transformed into moans. You felt your muscles relax a little and signaled he could start moving faster.

Needless to say the cereal on the table shook and spilled as he fucked you. Spilled milk on your table. His cum spilled inside you.

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

Frankie enjoyed hosting so much since Rosie’s birthday he wanted to have a Fourth of July barbecue. With your help he took the decorations to the next level. Hanging fairy lights over the patio, and renting a bouncy castle for the kids. In an act of irrational niceness, you had said it was okay if Laura came by, that way Rosalia would be there too.

Frankie was clear he had no desire to hide you. He wanted to show you off. Still, you dreaded meeting Frankie's ex. Rosalia had warmed to you quickly even preferring you to hold her. You already loved her so much. Today she wanted you to follow her everywhere and watch her play. Frankie was stuck behind the grill but he still could watch his girls playing. You were wearing a lovely red sundress which Frankie was looking forward to stripping off. It brushed your thighs in the breeze and it was perfect height for Rosalia to tug on when she wanted to be picked up.

“You’ve done a great job with the decor.” Laura appeared at Frankie’s side.

“Thanks.” Frankie smiled tightly. Her surprised tone confirmed that she always underestimated him.

“You’ve been happier lately.” Laura studied Frankie.

“I guess.” Frankie shrugged turning one of the hot dogs for something to do.

“It just has me remembering the old days. Before everything with you happened.” Frankie prickled at that last statement. Everything with you. She always put it on him totally forgetting how she also made things worse.

“Frankie?” You appeared at his other side, eyeing Laura warily and doing little to hide your dislike. You had seen from yards away how Frankie tensed up, looking down. You wouldn’t let that slide so you went over. Finally removing your glare from his ex wife you look up at him, laying a reassuring hand over his forearm. “Uh- people are getting hungry. How soon until it’s done?”

“It’s ready now.” Frankie smiled down at you, instantly feeling more at ease. His answer let you know he was okay.

“Great I’ll wrangle everyone.” You smiled before darting back to the crowd.

“Who is that?” Laura frowned. “Someone's babysitter?”

“No.” Frankie shut off the grill facing his ex wife face to face. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Laura sounded skeptical. “She’s 12.”

“She’s a woman.” Frankie corrected her. “A woman I love very much.” He wasn’t going to listen to anyone look down on you.

“You should have talked to me before you brought her around Rosie.” Laura huffed, putting a hand on her hip.

“You had no problem parading your boyfriends around during our divorce.” Frankie shot back quickly looking to make sure they couldn’t be heard. “It’s in the court records so I doubt you want to bring it up.”

“Frankie…” Laura seemed to regret what she said.

“Let’s just… move on.” Frankie said as people started to draw near.

“Papa!” He heard Rosie squeal, toddling towards him.

“Rosie!” He picked her up, his anger instantly melting away. “Ready for your hot dog?”

As Frankie and the others started filling up their plates Laura crept closer to you as you were cleaning up some of the kid’s mess by the pool.

“Excuse me. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Laura.” She extended her hand. She was taller than you. Her face was tight as if she was holding in her sneer.

“Hi.” You decided to be nice, shaking the woman’s hand. You introduced yourself.

“So… you and Frankie. “

“Yes.”

“How long has that been going on?”

“A few months.” You said keeping it vague.

“And it’s going well?”

“Yes.” You grew annoyed by her vague questioning. Obviously it was going well since you were here. Her eyes were the total opposite of Frankie's. Hard and cold and icy blue. You quietly thanked god that Rosalia had inherited Frankie's eyes.

“Hmm he’s not doing that crazy thing anymore?”

“What thing?” You frowned.

“Well one time while we were together he stayed up the whole night because he thought some criminal or something was after us.” Laura laughed cruelly. You wanted to slap her for her lack of sympathy. What was funny about Frankie’s fear? “The psychiatrist said there would be delusions but that was just too much.”

“I think I’ve heard enough.” You snipped, trying to keep at least a polite facade. There were people just a few feet away. You prayed the couldn’t hear.

“Hey I’m sorry.” She schooled her features. “Don’t think I’m cruel. It wasn’t easy being with someone like that. I’m trying to look out for you.”

“Thanks for that. I think I'm good though.” You finished picking up the last pool toy and walked away before Laura could say more. You wanted to turn back and say something mean but you were determined to be the bigger person. You didn’t want to start drama that would hurt Frankie and Rosalia. You spent a good minute in the garage after putting the toys back, positively fuming.

“Sweet pea?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts, joining you in the garage. “Aren’t you hungry?”

"I was just cleaning up.” You said though your hands were empty.

“I saw Laura talking to you.” He watched you warily. Fear lapped at him. What did Laura tell you...“Everything okay?”

“She just… a bitch.” You huffed. Your word choice made Frankie burst out laughing. “I’m sorry I know you married her but how? She’s awful and rude and judgmental.”

“I know.” Frankie quieted his laughter, pulling you into his chest. “It wasn’t meant to last.”

“Because she’s a bitch.” You grumbled into his chest making Frankie laugh again. His tummy bounced against yours with his laughter. You loved it. You thought again about what Laura said. How cruel she had been in the face of Frankie’s PTSD. “If she says one more rude thing I may have to smack her.”

“You’re hot when you’re possessive, you know that?” Frankie smiled tickling your sides. “Come on, we should get back before our guests start to notice.”

“Alright.” You agreed, taking his hand and following him out of the garage. You felt Laura’s eyes on you two when you came back to the yard. Frankie got your burger set up for you before doing his. It’s the simple things that got you going; how giving he is. You tried to hide your blush from the onlookers as Frankie asked you ketchup or mustard.

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

Once everyone went home you and Frankie laid out a blanket in the back so you could watch the fireworks happening on the beach a mile away. He was quiet, at least more than he usually is. You didn’t know what to say to reassure him so again you reverted to touch. You placed your hand on his thigh reassuringly.

“Frankie?” You turned to him. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“No.” He seemed taken aback by your question.

“Okay.” You moved closer to him until you were tucked into his side.

“You mean about Laura.” Frankie said after a moment. “Just- she didn’t say anything to you to make you upset right? She doesn’t get under my skin anymore. I don’t want her to get under yours.”

“She didn’t get under my skin.” You replied. She said nothing to make you insecure, just make you angry at her is all. “I’m just protective of you, you know. It seems like she was awful to you.”

“It’s fine.” Frankie shrugged.

“No.” You moved to sit on his lap, straddling him. “It’s not. You came back from your deployment probably in need of some comfort and all she gave you was judgment."

“She told you about that night.” Frankie hung his head in humiliation. You didn’t deny it. You didn’t want to upset him but part of you knew he should talk about this. Laura shouldn’t be the only one who holds this memory over his head. “It was my first night back. I just- I swore I heard gunfire. I was freaking out. I was probably acting really scary. I thought they came for me and she-Laura called the cops on me.”

“How could she…” You teared up on behalf of Frankie.

“I ran.” He continued, his voice thick. “I stayed a Will’s and calmed down. That was the end of the marriage.” He rubbed up and down your thighs under your dress. It always comforted him. You tried to think of what to say. His wife, the person who was supposed to love him the most, ostracized him and criminalized him.

Frankie was anticipating you to be afraid of him or push him away, but to his surprised you pulled him into a hug, holding his head against your neck like he was a child. He felt a sob rise in his throat and tears wet his eyes. You were so... kind. It was something he was still learning to accept and realize he deserved .

“You’re right.” You took a breath to relax yourself. “It doesn’t matter what she says. You’re mine now. Not hers.” You kissed Frankie on his nose then kissed his mouth.

“Always, sweet pea.” He rubbed his thumb over the area of your brow that furrowed in residual anger.

“I just wish there were some way…” you chewed your lip. “I have these-“ you pulled his dog tags out from where they hung between your breasts. “Reminds me I’m yours.”

“Maybe I need a necklace too.” Frankie smiled squeezing your thighs. That got you thinking…

“Can I try something?” You asked. Frankie nodded looking amused. You tugged at his shirt pulling it over his head. You never got over how broad he was. His toned arms were flexed holding himself up. You leaned forward planting a wet kiss on Frankie’s neck where it met his shoulder.

“Mmm gonna mark me up?”

You nodded and sucked harder till you were satisfied it would leave a mark. Pulling back you admired the red blooming where your mouth had been. It shouldn’t affect you as much as it did but you loved that he had a physical mark from you. He had scars here and there from cross fire and stab wounds. Some he wouldn’t go into detail. You loved them all but for once you wanted him to have a mark born out of love.

“I’m gonna give you a necklace, daddy.” You murmured tracing the path you would forge, down and around to the other side of his neck. You were gonna make hicks all around his neck like a chain. You leaned back down and planted another mark below and slightly to the right.

“Holy shit.” Frankie groaned, tilting his head back. He felt his cock start to harden under your attention. You slowly made your way across his hot skin until you had seven little wet hickies starting to show through the skin. You traced them with your finger, connecting the dots.

Frankie looked down, watching in fascination. His dog tags were a bittersweet thing, symbolizing his commitment to the military, but you wanted them. You wore them proudly, giving him more closure than 100 hours of therapy. But this... this new chain on his skin represented his belonging to you. “Beautiful, baby girl. Thank you.” He kissed you sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You pulled away before he could deepen it. You start to lean down again like you were going to plant another hickie on him. He pushed you back and rolled the both of you over.

“Daddy! I wasn’t done yet.” You wiggled against the soft blanket.

“No it’s daddy’s turn now.” He pushed the straps of your dress down your arms, tugging your neckline down.

“But I already have a necklace.” You felt Frankie’s dog tags lying in your cleavage.

“Now you’ll have two. I spoil my girl like that.” Frankie teased. He kissed up and down your neck before settling on his starting place. When he started sucking it sent a lightning bolt straight to your clit. You gasped. You could feel him hard against your thigh, not fully yet. You rocked your hips impatiently, clutching his head against you.

“Be patient, baby.” He warned, pausing his work. You stilled your hips with a pout. “Good girl.” He resumed. You wanted to be naughty but you knew you’d never win that fight. Problem was you were loving his attention on your neck so much you couldn’t help but start grinding against his leg again. Your hand reached down and tried to stroke his hardening cock. Frankie pulled back, his lips swollen from giving you hickies. He was only halfway around your chest now.

“You’re being naughty…” Frankie chided, lightly slapping your hand away from him. You continued squirming under his gaze though you at least look apologetic. Frankie pulled away. “You don’t want your necklace?” Frankie pretended to be hurt.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You turned on the puppy dog eyes. “Just- your mouth feels so good.”

“If you’re not gonna behave I’m gonna have to make you behave.” Frankie’s mouth curled into a smirk. Your stomach flipped around in excitement. “Sit back up on your knees.” He ordered. You eagerly sat up on your knees, placing your hands on your thighs. Your dress hung around your waist. Frankie stood up and started undoing his belt. You got excited thinking he was going to let you suck his cock but instead he just pulled his belt from his pants and knelt down again. “Remember just say stop if you want to stop.” Frankie reminds you.

You nodded your eyes dilating, staring at the leather in his hands.

“Hands behind your back, baby.” He instructed. You obeyed your knees widening subconsciously. He tied his belt around your wrists. It’s not tight enough to hurt but you certainly could not move your hands without really trying. Frankie licked his lips, staring down at your vulnerable position. “Good little sweet pea.” He cooed. “Now you won’t be able to be naughty. What do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.” You whispered feeling your cheeks burn at the depravity of your position. The smooth leather of his belt rubbed against your pulse point and Frankie’s smell filled your nose. You’re out in the open. Sure there was a fence but it still heightened your arousal. You were dripping you were sure of it. He knelt before you again to finish his hickies. He held your hair pulling it back to give himself more room.

You tried to lift up your arms multiple times but got stopped by the belt. You whined as he sucked another mark into you and you couldn’t get any stimulation in this position. Frankie let you moan and whine for him but he didn’t stop his mission. He finally pulled back, his hooded eyes evaluated at his work.

“Look at it, baby.”

You looked down at the curved line of hickies running from collarbone to collarbone. “Thank you, daddy, for my necklace. I love it so much.” You looked at his chest. You were matching now. Your lust was momentarily paused as a fresh wave of adoration washed over you. It was so much deeper than sex. Frankie noticed your change in expression and kissed you softly, bringing you back to the moment.

“You sat still for me so good. Now you can ask for what you want.” He strokes your hair softly.

“I wanna-I wanna suck you cock please?”

“Are you sure?” Frankie smiled. “You don’t want my mouth on you or-"

“No.” You shook your head. The emotions swirling in you from lust to love made you hungry for one thing. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

“Fuck.” He groaned before kissing you hard, licking into your mouth. He never had someone as giving and kind and protective of him as you. He could have cried but there was no need because you were his forever. No yearning just living. He reached around to pull off the belt but you stopped him with a small voice.

“Leave it on.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Frankie stood quickly. You sat up further, your hands still restrained behind your back. Your head was tilted up at him, your dress bunched around your waist, it was the most beautiful fucking sight.

Red blue and white fireworks dazzled the sky above. He picked you up bridal style and carried you inside as quickly as he could while you giggled in delight.

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

Things started clicking into place like you were growing along some metaphorical ladder. You were finally where you needed to be. You got a job working at the VA in Miami, running their re-entry program. A small publishing house in Miami loved your book and agreed to publish it for a short run. Frankie took some money out of the Colombia account to cover the rest of the contract. Frankie had the book for sale at the shop pushing it on anyone who would enter. He was so proud of you. And that was all that mattered to you.

Frankie unironically planted sweet pea in the garden, telling you how they are slow to grow, but their delicate flower and sweet smell is worth the wait; just like you. Sweet peas were climbers, with the right support, they would bend to any shape. You knew you could go as high as the sky with Frankie by your side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist: @floraandfrost @agingerindenial, @heythere-mel, @icanbeyourjedi, @linnie0119, @pedrosmustache, @thisshipwillsail316, @peterhollandkait, @leias-rebelion, @phoenix-of-loki, @prettypedros, @kennedywxlsh, @punkerthanpascal, @the-witty-pen-name, @twentyfirstcenturyfox, @madslorian, @sarahjkl82-blog, @bison-writes, @lightning-fast54, @maievdenoir, @nicolethered, @kenoobiwan, @danniburgh, @janebby, @dihra-vesa, @yespolkadotkitty, @ilikechocolatemilkh, @headinthestarz, @tanyaherondale, @christina-loves, @dobbyjen, @fangirl-316

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #calling home series #daddy!frankie

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edgelordfucker · 3 years ago

Note

Ok so after your most recent post I just gotta know about the first time Belos took her in his complete cursed form

I actually have something in the works for this!! It kinda fell to the wayside when I got sidetracked by other projects. I started it before Hollow Mind (google docs says that the earliest version is from January! So, wow, way-wayside, huh), so it needs to be edited, and updated with my new characterization of the Belos/Beast/Inner Palisman glob dynamic, and y'know finished, which I have been told is an important part of fic writing, so there isn't exactly an ETA on this one, unfortunately. Knock on wood that I get to it eventually skdlfksdlf.

However! I'll post some of what I have so far, and try to move this one up the priority list for completion. I hope you like this tidbit, Anon! :D 🖤

CW: Non-con.

Oh, he hates that little man, hates hates that little man, pathetic little human, thinks he can harness, can wield him. Weak little man, terrible little man- With an enraged howl, the beast swipes a massive paw through the table, splintering it and dashing the mugs gathered there to pieces, sending a flood of old coffee over the papers and schematics and-

His notes! His notes, it took him so long-

He screeches. No notes! No books, no papers! The beast charges the bookcase, cracking it, sending the tomes flying. He was hungry. He wanted out.

A sweet smell, at the door, creaking open.

He knows who that is.

“Belos?” you ask, peering into the room. The beast scents the air.

Mate.

Eyes wide, you stare into his face, glance around, look at him again, inhale sharply, and quietly shut the door. He hears your little feet pounding down the hall as you run and with a gleeful feeling he crashes through the heavy wood after you. Mate. Mate, his fertile little mate. Your scent is pungent with terror, easy to follow through the halls, and you’re not very fast. That’s alright. He likes a game.

You’ve cornered yourself in a box with heavy doors, very nearly closed. You scream when he casts his arm out, stretching wetly to slip between the narrow gap and expanding to pry it open. Silly little mate. The beast prowls forward, easily thrice your size, and you whimper, cowering into the corner.

With a triumphant growl, he lowers his big head to-

Your fist impacts his nose or, well, the sensitive gaping hole in his skull face that serves as his nose. He howls, great warped hands coming up to scrabble at the sudden pain. You dart around him, blood swimming with adrenaline. Whuffing, he shakes off the sensation and goes boneless, turning into a pile of brown-green-purple slime as he moves across the floor, up along the walls, and onto the ceiling, overtaking you faster than you can think as he slops down long, wet tentacles that you run straight into.

“No!” you shriek, trying to tug away, but it’s too late. They wrap around your body as he re-solidifies and drops down with a weight that cracks the wood flooring and shakes the stones underneath, knocking you onto your back and trapping you in the cage of his limbs.

The beast chuffs, pleased, and starts to scent you.

“No, no, no,” you repeat, squirming in his hold. He growls lowly. You go very still, but you make the same noise over and over, in a whisper. He starts to smell you in earnest as you start to sob, and pulls back with a snort - you’re terrified, in so much distress that it overpowers the fertile sweetness in your pheromones. He regards you with a tilted head. This won’t do, this won’t do at all.

And then, a little later:

He wants more. The beast’s tongue is long and thick, more than enough to fill and stretch you to take his cock. It makes its slick way to the rim of your hole and spears you easily. You cry out, reaching blindly behind you to grip the wild mane of streaky blonde hair that rings his skull-face and covers his neck and torso. Your taste- The beast growls, trying to defy the laws of reality and press somehow closer to you, feeding you more of his tongue into your cunt only to rudely come up against the barrier of your cervix. He whines. That can’t be the end of you, surely not- Quickly, he makes up his mind. If you won’t take it deeper, you’ll stretch. He lets it all hang out of his mouth, slowly but steadily coiling it inside of your body. Your walls do protest, that’s true, but he takes as much time as he can spare, letting the magic that makes up his being coax your body into taking all he can give. And give he can.

Your trembling hand falls from him to the floor, and you drag it up to support your weight as you attempt to shift. He rumbles in warning, but you snap back.

“My neck hurts, you fucking jerk,” you pant, laboriously levering yourself onto your hands, even as your arms shake. Seeing that you’re not trying to move away, he redoubles himself. “Ah! Fuck-” you moan, dropping back down to rest your forehead against your right arm, your left hand slipping down the front of your body. He feels your sharp little nails against the planes of his face as you fumble at your cunt, fingers clumsy between the absolute wet mess he’s making between your thighs and the overwhelming sensation of ruthlessly fucked, but he ignores it - sharp though they may be, it’s nothing to him - and your breath catches as you start to rub yourself, clamping down on his tongue in a way that he finds very pleasing.

#replies #wip wip wip wip wip wip #my stuff

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acidiluc · 3 years ago

Text

sinoatrial node

synopsis: (kuroo x reader) where you, a medical student, together with kuroo experience the struggle of balancing your priorities. angst to fluff. 2122 words.

note: this is my first time writing a fic, so please do tell what you think! i keep getting random plot ideas so thought... why not try to write them? teehee

"the tricuspid valve regulates blood flow between the right atrium and the... right ventricle."

you mumbled to yourself as you read your medical textbook out loud; trying to cram every information you see in your somnolent worn out brain. you reached for your phone once you felt it vibrate — probably signaling a message from your loving boyfriend, kuroo tetsurou.

you immediately smiled at the sight of his name in your notifs,

'hey baby :)' 'is there any teeny tiny bit chance i could snatch you from your humble abode just for a few hours and mayhaps bring u to hang out at bo's? :('

you sighed before typing a reply,

'tetsu, you already know my answer...' 'i'm sorry, t. but i have my finals coming uppp :(('

you two started dating not long ago. tetsurou was your best friend, and is still your bestfriend, before you two even started dating — meaning you were there when girls were pining over your now so called boyfriend which was something you used to laugh at, seeing how kuroo awkwardly handles situations whenever a girl tries to get closer with him. you were there to always support him with his ideals and dreams, and he was too. the two of you were just like another version of each other which made you perfect for each other

you bit your lip and laid back on your chair after sending the message, staring up at the ceiling. this... may have been the 3rd or 4th time you rejected tetsurou for the past week and a half. you sure did miss going out with your boyfriend but uni has been hindering you from doing so. you two barely saw and talked to each other during the past week since you were so focused on studying — not really wanting to see a failing grade by the end of the semester.

you sighed again and sat up straight, ready to consume information from the medical textbook you're cursing now for giving you a hard time once again, but a knock has interrupted you before you could even start. “coming!” you announced as you marked your book before standing up to get the door, not really expecting your spike-haired boyfriend to be standing on the other side of it.

"i'm not taking a no as an answer anymore, y/n." tetsurou smirked, waving his phone that showed your conversation before leaning forward, placing a longing kiss on your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you. "god, i missed you." he mumbles, keeping you in his arms a little longer.

you smiled softly and immediately wrapped your arms around him as well, sighing. "i know... i missed you too, t" you muttered, inhaling his scent before pulling away to pull your boyfriend in and shut the door.

"but tetsu, i know i have rejected to go out many times now but i... really can't go out yet. i still have papers due tomorrow and lots of lessons to cover for the finals." you explained as you faced your boyfriend, rubbing your eye.

kuroo scoffed lightly and took a step closer to you, "babe, c'mon. can't you really spend time out with me? even just for an hour? i'll help you with those papers, c'mon." he said, trying to convince you while he reached for your hands to hold with a growing smile on his face.

you looked up at him and lazily smiled, eyes scanning through his handsome face features. "i know you'll say that... but no. baby, i need to do this on my own. you can’t just always help me with my papers. it's for my own good." you said, looking up at his eyes with sorry eyes. "i promise— i promise i'll make it up to you soon, mkay?"

"fine fine but look... how about i just stay here? i can help you study an-and maybe we could—" before he could even finish his sentence, you were already shaking your head. you loved your boyfriend but you have other priorities too, just like him.

kuroo groaned and let go of your hands, plopping down onto the couch behind him. "alisa would've made time to go out with me." he muttered, scoffing as he looked away from you, tired of you rejecting him repeatedly.

silence took over the room as you processed what you just heard come out of your boyfriend's lips with your mouth agape. it was quite inconceivable that kuroo would scoff at you and say that statement but... he did.

you suddenly felt rage rise within you, all that suppressed stress and tension slowly radiating off of you, but you were careful enough to prevent from breaking down in front of your best friend, "well i'm sorry to disappoint you but i'm not her, tetsurou." you said sternly, "i said that i'll make it up to you, wasn't that enough?" you asked. kuroo was quick to pick up the change of atmosphere and decided to just be honest with you.

"y/n, i've always made time when it comes to you. you are always and always will be a priority to me! how come you can't do the same?" kuroo said, his voice slightly getting louder, clearly tired of you turning him down every time, but he hasn’t thought of what he just said to you. in fact, tetsurou is just as stressed as you are today.

"and you think you aren't a priority to me?!" you asked, "i've always understood how you can't hang out with me whenever you're unavailable during our supposed free time together because of your sport, tetsu. your volleyball practices lasts for weeks! yet i've always understood and supported you, so how come you can't do the same?!'" you exclaimed, "and how bold of you to compare me to your ex!"

you looked at him with a hard stare before turning your back on him, stomping off to your study desk. you plopped down to your chair and sighed heavily through your nose, closing your eyes for a few seconds before reopening them. "...i want to be alone..." you muttered, feeling as if the world has come crashing down on you. “i know i’m being immature right now but let’s just talk this out another time before things get worse.” you said, gathering your highlighters and textbook once again, knowing your emotions are on edge right at the moment.

kuroo just sat there and watched you as he chewed on his lip, fiddling with his own fingers. he knew you were right. he was on edge too. tetsurou stood up and walked towards the door, shutting the door with a small thud, leaving without a word.

once you heard the door shut, you looked back to see tetsurou gone, and only then you started overthinking again. you tilted your head and stared at your study timer that read 7:06pm before letting your negative thoughts run freely in your mind.

tetsurou mentioned his ex. tetsurou left without a word (which he never did before). you two barely see and talk to each other. is he getting tired of you? does he want to break up with you?

‘the right ventricle receives blood from the right atriu—’ your eyes started to get blurry before you could even finish reading the sentence and your lips started to quiver before finally breaking down on your desk. life’s a little hard on you right now and you swore to focus on your academics this week. but how can you focus when kuroo and your relationship is all you have in mind right now?

you sobbed softly and rested your head on your arm on your desk, letting the stress out of your system. kuroo is your everything and it surely will hurt a lot if you two come to a break up. you stayed like that for a few minutes, not realizing that you were slowly falling asleep on your desk.

books have been marked and have been neatly stacked to the side, highlighters and pens are now back to their respective organizers, study timer on top of the said books (12:04am), and laptop is nowhere to be seen.

you slowly gained consciousness as you caught a whiff of an appetizing aroma. you groaned while you sat up, feeling the massive back pain for falling asleep on your desk like that. you tilted your head to check the time but you saw that your study timer isn’t where it’s supposed to be. “huh?” you looked around your desk and noticed that it has been organized.

“i cooked you some ramen. you should eat.”

you immediately turned as you heard the voice of the man who never fails to make your heart flutter together with the faint sounds of the keyboard keys of your laptop being pressed on. you saw your boyfriend as you turned, sitting on the mini dining table you have in your apartment, aggressively typing on your laptop.

you felt... thankful and relieved to see him. though you weren’t sure about how kuroo feels about you yet. you stood up and warily walked past your boyfriend and to the kitchen, gathering ramen in two bowls.

“what time did you come back?” you softly asked, placing the two bowls down onto the dining table before sitting next to him, pushing tetsurou his serving gently. “probably around... 7:30?” he replied while you hummed in response. you started slurping on your ramen, avoiding to look at tetsurou while your boyfriend on the other hand has stopped typing and started eating his noodles as well, glancing at you from time to time.

“i... didn’t mean what i said, y/n.” he mumbles as he decided to be the one to break the silence and the awkward tension, playing around with his noodles. “i know it’s bullshit to just say sorry about what i said but... i really didn’t mean it. it’s just i—” tetsurou sighs heavily through his nose and lets go of his chopsticks before looking up at you and you looked back at him with noodles still hanging from your mouth.

tetsurou stared at you for a few seconds before smiling at the stupidly cute sight and looked away, “i— fuck, where was i?”

you started giggling and tetsurou looked back up to you with a bit of confusion. you gave yourself a little time to chew and swallow before talking. “i hate you, you know that?” you said, smirking up at him and kuroo smiled. “i know you didn’t mean what you said, tetsu but i meant what i said.” you said, turning to face him. “i didn’t like how you reacted earlier and definitely didn’t like the words you decided to say, but... i do admit that i was at fault too but that was only because i only wanted to focus on my academics first which i hoped you will understand.”

“i know, i know.” he sighed, “i realized that you were right and that it was selfish of me to act like that. i just— i really miss you already. my days haven’t been the best too and i just really wanted to be with you since you’re my home, you know?” he muttered. “and i... i didn’t mean to compare you to alisa. i don’t know why i said that and i’m just so frustrated with myself right now.”

“you’re a dumbass” you smirked,

kuroo looked up at you again and smirked, “well, this dumbass finished your paper already.” he said, moving the laptop closer to you for you to see 8 pages worth of paperwork. you gasped softly and scrolled through the pages, “you said you’ll only help me, not do the entire paper!” you exclaimed which made kuroo laugh lightly.

“you’re welcome.” he said before slurping on his noodles. you turned to him and smiled softly, “i still need to study tomorrow.” you said and sighed, kuroo nodded and was about to say something but you beat him to it.

“should we go on a cafe date tomorrow and study together?” you proposed, inching closer to tetsurou with a big smile. tetsurou turned to you with sparkles in his eyes, “of fucking course!” he exclaimed in excitement and pulled you to a hug, moving you to his lap which made you laugh softly. you stayed like that for a little while as you played with your boyfriend’s hair.

“you’re responsible for controlling my sinoatrial node, y/n.” kuroo mutters, kissing the top of your head.

“...and what’s a sinoatrial node?” you smirked.

“the impulse responsible for controlling the heart’s rhythm... and you’re doing a horrible job at handling my sa node.”

“huh? why is that?”

“you make my heart go crazy.”

* ˚ ✦ masterlist ˚ · ┊ * ˚ ✦ navigation ˚ ·

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wondersofdreaming · 4 years ago

Text

Sex on Fire

Co-written with @radaofrivia

Characters: AU Captain Syverson - Gynaecologist, dr. Syverson x female reader

Word count: 4.522

Warnings: NSFW! Smut, so smutty. Gamahuche. Licking. Bodily liquids. Fingering. Sucking. Hair pulling. Begging. And I’m out of whatever else there is, but I’m sure there’s more - let me know and I’ll add them XD

Author’s note: This story was co-written with the always gorgeous and incredible @radaofrivia! She is the Brain to my Pinky! The Barney Rubble to my Fred Flinstone! My goddess Saga and my muse Erato! My drinking buddy and who will stay up till 4am with me to finish this story.

Please go enjoy her stories here:

Rada’s Masterlist

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

*Edit: The title was decided before I realised that it is a song by Kings of Leon. These two have nothing in common except for the title.

MY MASTERLIST

Sex on Fire Masterlist

Feedback is appreciated.

(Credit to original gif owner - if this is yours please contact me so I can give you proper credit)

The grey concrete building stood tall in front of you. You leaned your head back to see the top, but it was nearly impossible. All you could see were windows leading into the sky. A doorman in a black uniform stood by the entrance, watching whoever went in and out. He nodded his head with a stoic look in a greeting.

The lobby looked more welcoming than the outside building. There was a fireplace with three sofas surrounding it and a coffee table stacked with magazines. A few women were already sitting there, gossiping about the new dapper doctor that had rented the entire top floor.

You rolled your eyes and went over to the reception. A man stood to greet you with a smile, but he was talking to someone in his headset, which only took a few seconds before he hung up.

“I am sorry about that, how may I help you, miss?” he asked.

“I’m here for an appointment with dr. Syverson,” you said a little nervously.

“Ah, yes. I have a form you need to fill out,” he handed you a piece of paper and a pen, “The elevators are just right over there. Take it all the way to the 52nd floor. Another receptionist will be there to guide you further.”

You accepted the paper and went for the elevators. A chill went down your spine as the cold air from the air condition hit you. You pressed the button for dr. Syverson’s floor. An orchestral song started playing over the speakers. It wasn’t until you listened closely to the lyrics that you noticed it was ‘Nothing Else Matters’ by Metallica.

You closed your eyes, swaying to the beat of the soft drums. Lars Ulrich had been your celebrity crush as a teen, and you still listened to their older songs when you had a bad day.

The elevator doors opened with a loud ‘ding!’, pulling you out of your trance. Another receptionist stood at the opposite side. She looked up from the computer and smiled.

“Welcome to dr. Syverson’s clinic. Do you need help filling out the paper?” she asked nicely. You quickly scanned what you needed to scribble down. It was mostly your personal information and history of health.

“No, I think I can manage, thank you,” you smiled back.

“You can take a seat in the sofas, and when you’re done just fold it and put it in the mailbox, dr. Syverson will call you in, shortly,” she motioned to a black mailbox by the elevators that you had missed when walking past it.

You nodded and went for the sofas. The room was warm and comfortable with green plants everywhere. The sand-coloured leather sofas were softer than you expected as you sank down. You filled out the form and put it in the box.

Instead of sitting back down, you decided to walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and take a look at the impressive view of the city. Your eyes widened at how far you could see, all the way to the ocean, and if you squinted your eyes, you might have been able to see your apartment building, even the bar you had often been frequenting lately.

Dr. Syverson walked out of his office. He stretched his arms above his head, feeling a bit sore from having sat down reading his patients’ charts all afternoon. Now he just needed to check on his last appointment, before he could go home and enjoy an ice-cold beer.

His receptionist was packing her stuff, sending him a kind smile. The perks of working with his sister were that she didn’t try to seduce him, or leave her underwear in his white coat pocket like some of his patients tended to do.

He smiled back and looked around the room. His gaze landing on you. His first thoughts were not ‘oh there’s my patient’, no, his mind went straight to ‘YOWZA!’.

“Last patient for today, Luc. I’ll be leaving now, see you tomorrow,” he heard his sister say to him. She smacked his arm to get his attention. He was pulled back to reality, saying goodbye to her before walking towards you, changing his mindset from dirty to professional.

You gasped when a flock of seagulls flew by, making you take a step back and hit a wall. Except the wall had arms that grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor.

“Whoah, careful there, miss,” a deep rough voice said. You looked up and saw a man with a trimmed beard, a soft smile on his lips, and a mischievous look in his cerulean eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out. You quickly remove yourself from his arms, first now noticing that he was wearing the white coat signalling he was dr. Syverson. And if that didn’t kick your brain in gear, then the name tag on his chest should do it. Dr. Lucas P. Syverson.

“It’s all good. This way, please,” he made sure you followed him to his office. The wall colour changed to a more soothing beige colour and was adorned with colourful paintings. You didn’t notice what they depicted before you stepped closer to one. It was of naked human bodies in various forms and shapes, very fitting for a gynaecologist’s office.

He had various books about his profession, but a few stood out to you. One had a peach on the cover and was written by dr. Syverson himself. You were impressed but wondered about the peach until you saw the title that made you blush deeply.

“How to eat a peach for dummies.”

He motioned for you to sit in the armchair, while he plopped down on the opposite one. He grabbed a chart from his desk and a pen.

“I’ve had a look at your medical history, and the…” Dr. Syverson looked down on the chart, “three gynaecologists that you have been referred to have written that you are in a state of good health. Well, we’ll see about that, I’m not too keen on some of these doctors you’ve had appointments with. They’re as old as Methuselah.”

You let out a peal of laughter. The joke having put you at ease with the doctor, who was smiling as you calmed down from your fit of giggles.

You were a little bit shocked by this doctor. Dr. Syverson was nothing like how you had imagined him. He couldn’t be over 40, with the extended educational schooling he would have had to go through. You remembered having read somewhere that it took at least 12 years to become a gynaecologist.

“Oh my gosh, they were. Another thing they had in common was that they would take a “quick” peek, not caring that I was screaming in pain, and then tell me that I’m healthy as a horse.”

Dr. Syverson sat back; his brow pushed together. You could practically hear the gears turning behind his forehead. He ran a hand through his beard, which made you notice that he wasn’t wearing a ring. If he wasn’t your doctor, you might have asked him on a date. Had you only met him at a bar instead of his office, and not being his patient. Damn it.

“There is definitely an issue we need to figure out here. I want you to know, miss that I plan on solving this mystery. Please, tell me in your own words what you think is wrong?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but all the sentences you thought of were too embarrassing to say out loud.

“Miss, you can say anything here. Nothing leaves these four walls, I promise you,” dr. Syverson tried to make you feel more comfortable with him with his gorgeous smile. His presence alone was putting you at ease. How did he do it?

“It burns when I’m penetrated,” you confessed.

“Penetrated how? During intercourse or masturbation?”

“I haven’t had sex since this happened. I can barely stuff two fingers in there,” you blurted, turning tomato red, confessing something so private to a total stranger, but it felt great to finally say it out loud, like a heavy stone being lifted from your shoulders.

“How about I take a look? Let me see with my own eyes that you’re ‘healthy as a horse’,” he quoted the old men, making you giggle. “You can leave your trousers and underwear on the bench, and have a seat on the table. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The dashing doctor left the room while you removed your clothing. Feeling a little self-conscious, as you walked over to the gynaecologist table with the stirrups and sat between them, trying to cover your private parts with your shirt.

Dr. Syverson came back soon with a variety of scented candles in his arms.

“The smell of something nice usually helps my patients to relax a little,” he explained. He held them up for you to choose.

“This one,” you smiled and handed him the one called Ocean Mist.

“Nice choice, that one is my favourite,” the doctor grinned. He set the lit candle on his desk. The scent of a sandy beach and salty ocean soon filled the room. The doctor pulled the ultrasound machine towards you. You leaned back on the table inhaling deeply, willing your abdominal muscles to relax. The sounds of a guitar reached your ears. You watched as he set a portable speaker on the small table next to you.

“I hope you don’t mind a little music,” he said, smiling, while he put on a pair of bright orange gloves.

“I love Metallica, so please keep it flowing.”

“Can you guess the song I’m playing? Put your legs up here for me,” he patted the stirrups.

You lifted your legs, intensely listening to the instrumental version of the song.

“Is it ‘The Unforgiven’?” you asked.

“Correct, you’re good. This is going to be a little bit cold,” he squirted a large amount of gel on the ultrasound wand. He slowly inserted the rod inside you, pushing ever so gently. “How long have you listened to Metallica?”

You winced at the invasion but tried to keep your muscles from tightening around the smooth object. You didn’t see the set jaw on the gorgeous looking doctor. Your sweet scent was tickling his nose and making his mouth salivate by the thought of tasting you.

“Since I was a teenager. I’ve been to at least one concert per tour they’ve done,” you groaned in pain.

“I’m sorry, your right ovary is a little difficult to find. You’re doing great. Your left ovary is the epitome of health. Are you on any kind of birth control?” he asked casually, trying his best to make you feel safe around him.

“N… no… I…” your voice broke, and tears started streaming down your cheeks. Doctor Lucas quickly removed the wand, cleaned it and sat down next to you.

“It’s okay. Let it all out,” he told you softly. Concern for your well being was painted on his chiselled face.

“It’s just that… I haven’t had sex for years, YEARS doc. No man wants a broken woman, especially not a woman that cannot be penetrated without her screaming in pain.”

You babbled so much you forgot that you were in a gynaecologist’s office and not at a psychologist.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt all that out,” you started to blush a crimson red.

Lucas fought hard not to pull you into his arms. His protective instincts were on high alert; he wanted to make you feel safe, make you feel loved. He was cursing the bastards who had hurt you. To him, women were the stronger sex, had to endure more pain than men. Women are precious, made to birth life, made to give love and be loved.

“It’s quite alright. You’ve had a rough time,” he patted your arm, the safest place to touch you and went to get up. “I’m going to feel around to see if there’s something I’ve missed with the ultrasound. What other bands do you listen to?”

You watched as doctor Syverson slapped on another pair of gloves and squirted a smaller amount of gel on his finger, on his long thick finger. You were practically drooling by watching him prepare to examine you.

“Eh… I listen to a little bit of everything,” you said. You laid back down and draped an arm over your eyes. Watching the handsome doctor working was becoming too much for you. He was stirring feelings inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time, and not in this form or quantity. You had taken a look at his well-proportioned ass when he walked out earlier, and his black trousers did very little to hide his hefty package.

“I’m sorry, but, again, this is going to be a little cold. What was the last song you listened to?” he warned.

It was an erotic scene, watching him standing between your legs, one hand on your belly, while the other was about to enter your most sacred place. You felt him enter. A soft moan escaped your lips.

Lucas’ ears perked. He hadn’t expected to hear that sound coming from your full lips. Had he heard correctly? The little vibration from you sent a jolt straight to the beast he was trying to keep dormant. This wasn’t the first time a woman had moaned while he examined them, but you were different. Another sweet sound reached his ears. You were so responsive to his touch, so open, so reactive. His mind was racing, but one word kept popping up, more.

You had forgotten how to speak, how to form sentences, how to communicate. You could only feel.

“Miss?”

“Hmm?”

“The last song? You listened to,” he didn’t mean to sound so tense, but he had to distract himself, his treacherous mind, he needed to keep the small-talk going, to break the silence. He wanted to kick himself in the balls for thinking about you, while he was fingers deep inside you. His compassionate instinct was winning over his lust.

Stop it, Lucas! You’re a professional. You cannot mess up! You CAN NOT fuck this up! She needs your help. Lord, give me strength.

“Oh...” you murmured, coming back from whatever universe he had sent you to with his finger technique, “Ehm, before the Metallica song in the elevator, I listened to ‘What’s Your Country Song’ by Thomas Rhett.”

“That’s a great song. I like country music.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you as a country kinda g… GOD!!!” you gasped as he curled his finger, touching the spot.

You released a louder sinful sound, a sound that hadn’t left your lips in a very long time. Lucas watched as your chest was heaving, gasping for air. The room was suddenly suffocating him. He felt like he was burning up from the inside. His breath was hitched, and he couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Why did you have to sound like desire itself?

“Does it hurt when I do this?” he asked, his voice lowering an octave and reduced to a velvety whisper. He hooked his finger once more, listening intensely to the sounds escaping you.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Your eyes rolled back in your head. You lifted your hips, moving your pelvis closer, needing more friction, needing to feel him deeper inside you.

Fuck!

He was watching you, vehemently. A fire was burning deep in his groin, heck even his eyes were flaming. His shoulders moved fastly up and down as he was heaving in the air through his parted lips, he needed oxygen, he needed to control himself. He was scolding himself for feeling like a horny teenager.

“This is… wrong,” he said in a panic. He moved his hand away from you. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist in a fierce grip.

“Please…” you begged, “please don’t stop. I… I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Please, Lucas… I need you… I need you to finish this.”

He could hear the need in your voice. He could smell your arousal. You were clawing your nails into his skin. The look in your eyes was clear that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. The same eyes were shining with unshed tears, begging him for release, and the sound of his name from your lips was making him so close to breaking his resolve.

“I… can’t… you’re my patient,” he groaned, his forehead showing the concerned lines of wrinkles, which made him look even more desirable.

“Can’t you make an exception? Just this once? Please...”

Lucas ran a gloved hand through his short-cropped hair. He turned away from you, needing support for his shaky legs he leaned against the back of his office chair. He was thinking about it, really thinking about it.

“Please, doll. Don’t test me. I’m standing on the edge, and I’m this close to jumping in with both feet. I can lose my career, and I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow.”

You watched as his shoulders sank. You moved off the examination table, pulling the hem of your shirt down to try to cover your nakedness.

“I’m sorry, dr. Syverson. I… I didn’t mean to put you in such a precarious situation,” your voice was small. Your gaze firmly on the wooden floor beneath your feet, you felt so ashamed to have tried to seduce your gynaecologist, who was only trying to help you. Lucas turned around to the sound of your voice breaking, and a little saddened that you started calling him his title again. Your cheeks flushed, your arms wrapped around yourself. You gathered the courage to move towards your clothes.

“Damn it!” he cursed. He moved towards you with the speed of lightning before you could take a single step. His large muscular frame wrapped around you, your head was laying on his chest, listening to the racing of his heartbeat.

“Say ‘you’re fired’,” he ordered, his voice husky and commanding like some kind of army captain, but it was also desperate. Desperate for you not to leave him. Craving your touch. Desiring, longing, yearning, lusting for you.

Your eyes widened in shock as you processed his words. He heard you gasp as you realised what he was saying.

“Dr. Syverson… you’re fired,” you whispered seductively, although a little shaky too. You watched as the sweet and calm doctor changed before your very eyes.

He clashed his lips with yours in a hungry kiss. He was starving; his only thought was to taste you that was his only goal. Your scent had been making him insane; famished was more correctly described.

While holding you in his arms, he made you move backwards until your bum found the end of the exam table.

His kisses were desperate, and so were you. Your heart felt as if it was about to beat out of your chest. Your breathing was shallow. It was going to happen; it was really going to happen.

He lifted you up and made you sit on the exam table. He parted your legs and went to stand between them. He cupped your face between his warm palms, leaning down to kiss you again. He kissed your jaw and all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Please, don’t regret this,” he whispered and went to touch his forehead against yours.

“I want it, even more than you do,” you answered breathlessly.

With your consent, there was no turning back now.

He devoured your mouth while his hands roamed all over your body. He unbuttoned your blouse while you shoved his white coat to the floor. You pulled at his button-up, buttons were flying everywhere. He shoved your shirt down your shoulders and off your arms before he threw it somewhere behind him. You ran your hands up and down his hairy chest, wanting to feel all of him, not the doctor, but the fine specimen of a man that he was.

He removed your bra with a flick of his fingers. Slowly revealing your breast to him. Your nipples two hard buds, waiting for his mouth to suck, lick, bite, whatever he wanted to do.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. His voice was desperate, so filled with lust, but also something oh so sweet.

Lucas moved his lips down your collar bone. Feasting on your breast, nibbling at your skin, before he finally went to town with your nipples. With the first touch of his tongue on your left breast, while he pinched the right, you let out a loud guttural sound. Just him playing with your bosom was about to send you over the edge. The coil in your belly was so close to snapping.

“More… Please, Lucas, more,” you whimpered, pushing his head to the place where you needed his mouth the most, right between your thighs.

You heard him chuckle. He gently pushed you down, making sure you were comfortable before he hooked your legs over his shoulders for better access to your glistening desire.

“Fuck…” you mewled. The sight of the mountain man between your legs, the growing bulge in his dark trousers was so erotic you were about to combust. Your sex was on fire.

“Your body is divine, bug. It was made to be worshipped. I want to make the pain go away,” he said softly.

You didn’t get to say a word as his tongue ran along the seam of your wetness, making you shutter from the first contact. His tongue was wide and long, his mouth blowing hot air as he sucked your lower lips gently.

That tongue of his was everywhere, inside you, lavishing you, adoring every centimetre of your flushed skin. You lifted your head to watch him working you into a frenzy, right as he sucked his index finger into his mouth, coating the digit with his saliva.

The pleasure that he was giving you was overwhelming. The moment he pushed his finger inside your womanhood, was like nothing you had felt before. His finger was warm, and it was a whole different feeling than when he was gloved. His tongue darted out to play with the glistening pearl hiding between your lips, sucking in his finger. Your wetness allowed his movements to be smooth and easy, in and out, and he found that spot that made you howl in ecstasy.

“Luc… I’m… I’m so close… FUCK!”

The coil broke, snatched, ripped apart. You weren’t pushed over the edge, you were shoved, hard, and the pleasuring waves kept coming and coming. It felt as if your orgasm was never-ending. You never wanted to come down from that high. It was addictive.

You released your hold of Sy’s head from your thighs, not having noticed you had trapped him. You were panting hard, trying to catch your breath after the tsunami of an orgasm the doctor had given you.

Lucas’ palm covered your cheek, wiping the tears that had fallen from your eyes.

“Did I hurt you, doll?” his face scrunched in concern.

You shook your head, no.

“No… that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.”

The smile on Lucas’ face was breathtaking. He was beaming with pride. You watched as he leaned back, noticing he was still wearing his trousers. The apparent bulge in his abdominal area looked painful.

You moved to sit up, motioning for him to stand.

“I want to return the favour,” you told him, unzipping his trousers. You were gentle, as the tent grew more extensive, the more you released his manhood from its confinement. You helped him out of his black boxer briefs and came face to face with the finest cock you had ever laid eyes on. You were drooling, licking your lips, dying to taste him.

“You don’t have to, angel,” he groaned as your tongue darted out to taste the precum leaking from the tip, hearing him growl, a sound coming from deep inside him.

“Please let me, Sy,” you pleaded, taking his length in your hand. You looked up to see Lucas nodding slowly. He groaned in acceptance.

You ran your tongue over your palm to lubricate it. Lucas’ eyes widened to the size of teacups. His cock jolting in excitement, his heart skipping a beat at the erotic scene happening right before him.

One hand touched his hips, moving to the small of his back, to have a grip on his ass, pushing him closer to your face. He filled your hand beautifully with his hardness, yet he was still soft to the touch of your palm. You started moving your hand up, slowly, hearing his gasp was turning you on even more than you already were. You smeared the clear precum around the glans with your thumb. Delicately wrapping your mouth around him. Your lips were stretched to max capacity, a voice in the back of your mind was telling you that you had to be careful not to lock your jaws, but then again you had a doctor right in front of you if the situation should happen.

You languidly moved his member further into your warm mouth, coating him with your saliva. Your tongue gliding over the tip. Lucas released a low moan that sent vibrations through his body. He lifted his face towards the ceiling. Your hand left his ass, moving down his thighs, tickling the backside of his knee, before travelling up the inside of his thigh and gently cupping his balls.

“Fuuuuuuck…” he guttered. You sucked the part that could fit in your mouth in synchronicity with your hand’s movement. He felt the tightening deep within his testicles. The hitching in his breath notified you of his coming release. You led his hands to your scalp, letting his fingers fisting your hair, before giving him a sultry look with his cock in your mouth.

He was grunting hard as he set the pace, while you did your best to keep up with him. Moving his hips, chasing his release inside your mouth. You relaxed your throat, letting him take over. You wanted so much to please him.

“Fuck, sunshine… I’m so close,” he growled.

“Come in my mouth,” you uttered. It was like something within him snapped the minute you voiced the words. He moved faster, harder, rougher. Until you felt the first spurts of his seed hitting your palate. You swallowed everything he spilt and then licked him clean.

Sy fumbled with his office chair as he sat down with a satisfied hum and pulled you to sit on his lap.

“That was amazing,” he smiled at you, kissing the tip of your nose, your cheek, the corner of your mouth and lastly a lingering kiss on your reddened lips.

“Glad you approve,” you grinned back, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“About those books,” you pointed towards the books you had peeked at earlier.

“Theses I had to write for med school.”

“Tell me about them while you rest for round two.”

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #Captain Syverson #Fanfiction #My story #Radaofrivia #Co-written #SMUT #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x female reader #Henry x reader #Henry x female reader #Sex on Fire

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honouredsatoru · 4 years ago

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JJK Characters x You on a date

notes : I tried including Gojo's love for Digimon since I also grew up watching Digimon and loving the anime with all of my heart, also because Gojo's seiyuu, both Japanese and English versions, voiced for characters in Digimon, so I wanna pay homage to the both of them. other than that, I also included my love for arts and history, something I tried to incorporate into my writing, just to make it like.. lilith's style, ya know?

extra notes : also I wrote megumi for Elli, just because haha.

warnings : slight cussing. not proofread lol. other than that, none. 100% fluff!

characters : gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara, nanami kento, itadori yuji.

Gojo Satoru - Arcades, vintage shops, especially collectors, especially Digimon, comic book/manga stores.

[Your name]! [Your name!]! Look, look! It's the Digimon Adventure V-Tamer 01 series! All 9 of them! Let's get in!"

"Ahh hold on. Towu! We're supposed to visit the cat cafe, you promised that you would go with me and take pictures with the cat hairband on! And I'm starving!"

You jokingly scowled at him, tapping your Doc Martens feet on the ground, arms folding.

"Fucking adorable. Let me see if I can tease her more, hah." A smirk soon appeared on this blue-eyed darling of yours.

"Let me get the manga and I promise, I'll go to this cat cafe with you, baby. Hm?"

"Oh alright."

"I love you, sweetheart. I know how much you wanted to go there but the manga. I- ahaaaa"

He started pouting as he kept pointing in the direction of the Digimon manga by the window. You quickly opened your camera, taking pictures of him sulking, emitting a soft giggle that actually made his heart squeezed with joy.

He presses his lips against your forehead, thumb circling your cheek, gently squishing them before opening the door, yanking you into the comic book store with him. You vowed to hide the comic books once he goes on a mission. After all, he made you wait a month before the two of you finally get to go to this cafe you always wanted to visit.

"Baby, I can read what you're thinking. Your face shows it too. Hehe. Watch me hide your panties."

Taking in a few gulps of air to deepen your breath, you opened your eyes, to meet the love of your life's own eyes, snickering at you, his large hands on the crown of your head before ruffling your already messy hair. There is no way you can stay mad at this man, as childish as he is, you know he loves you and deep down? He knows you love him too.

Itadori Yuji - Thrift stores, internet cafes to play online games with you, cinemas.

"Candy! [Your name] love! Don't! Make! Me! Ahhh cover up for me! I am gonna lose! I am gonna-"

He turns around to face you with soft eyes, his eyebrows slightly droopy before looking back at the computer, taking in the seconds in his head to register the fact that he lost in his mission with you in Inferno.

"Awww sorry babe. I mean.. you just started playing CSGO, so tell me, why- again- damn it- you wanna- AH. Damn it! Throw the fucking grenade! I mean why you wanna play this game, you need more practice- FUCK YOU."

Gentle chuckles were heard, emitted from his throat, his soft, peach toned lips landed on your cheek repeatedly as he rubbed soothing circles around your back.

"Breathe, bunny baby. You're so feisty whenever you start having online matches. Breathe. I love you, and I don't want you to get your blood pressure rising because of these dumbos, hm?"

Your lips curl into a faint and appreciative smile, nodding while your eyes are glued to the screen, ignoring the fading laughs and snickers from the people acknowledging your mini rage.

"I love you too. If I win, I'm getting us boba and chicken nuggets. So let me fight them, okie?"

"Yes ma'am!"

Megumi - Museums, art galleries, photo exhibitions, aesthetic cafes.

"Oh Gumi bear, look at that! That is the Raft of Medusa, it was done by Thèodore Géricault, he himself interviewed two survivors from the shipwreck."

He looks over your eyes that shine with excitement and pure happiness.

"Art"

Was what he thought every time he laid his sight onto you. God knows that he falls in love with you every single time he is blessed with your presence. Resting his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, inhaling the scent of mixed berries and wild roses, he swore he heard his heartbeat increasing every two seconds in a span of one minute.

"Oh really? What do you think this painting is all about?"

Glancing at him before returning to the painting, you puffed your cheeks, pressing your lips together with your index finger curled on your chin and your thumb under it.

"Lord, she is so cute whenever she does that. Can I kiss her? Should I? No wait, she's trying to tell me her own interpretation of this painting. To me. Oh wow. I'm gonna kiss her... later. I can't interrupt her." That is all he could think of. You. He is deeply, madly, beautifully in love with you.

"In my opinion, it tells me the ways of how men, or human beings, seek out in order to survive. When we are at the brink of desperation, insanity, happiness, greed, lust, desire, wrath, grief, don't we all do things unimaginable to help us go through the day? They even resolved to cannibalism. I think even I would commit to that if I was in an extremely dire situation."

You looked at him, a wide smile on your face, emitting a soft giggle that entered his right ear and stayed within the chambers of his mind. He closed the spaces between the both of you, sealing his lips onto yours, with the intention of making this very moment last a little longer heavy within his heart.

"Art."

Was what you thought of him.

Nanami Kento - Theatres, historical museums, fine dining restaurants.

You squealed, lightly clapping your hands as you ran to a block of marble, your foot tapping against the floor. He chuckles, hands in his pocket, taking fast strides towards you.

"Namnam! Look look! That's the Parthenon Sculptures! It was founded in hm... Athens, yes! If I am not mistaken, around 438 to 432 BC. These sculptures decorated the insides of the Parthenon, it is a temple located at the fortress of the Athenian Acropolis. It is said that this temple was built to appreciate and worship the Goddess Athena, she was the deity worship in Athens. Also, ah ah! Did you know that the word parthénos means "maiden", "girl" or ‘virgin"? And I-"

You look at him, your magnificent lover wearing a dark brown trench coat, with ecru brown trousers and a black turtleneck tucked in, his neck layered with white gold necklaces. Your hand unconsciously scratches your sideburns, giggling at the side of his stoic expression, eyes piercing yours beneath that yellow-green glasses he constantly has on his chiseled face.

"Oh... I am sorry... I didn't mean to bore you. I was just so excited because you know me! I love anything that is related to ancient greek history and mythology. I can't seem to get enough of it and it is absolut-

"I'm not bored, [your name]. I was just paying attention to every single word that pretty lips of yours uttered. It's magnificent that you knew all of this. It shows just how smart, curious, bright your mind and soul is. And darling?"

"Huh?"

"I am lucky to be blessed with someone like you. With Gojo constantly following me, there is no way I can read the books I bought for myself. However, having you around, breaking the ice with your random history tib bits, I feel like I am reading the pages, savouring each word, alphabet, sentence, thus expanding my quest and love for knowledge."

You looked down. Normally, you're not the type to tear up this easily but seeing how this man, this angel of a man, appreciates the little things you loved and adored, you can't help but let the waterworks out. You lifted your head up to meet his gaze, the tip of your nose slightly stuffy. You grabbed his arms, clinging onto him, the difference of height and size makes it sweet to the eyes of strangers surrounding you both.

"Oh Namnam. Thank you so much. This means the world to me. Shall we... go and see the best of Ramesses the Great? I've loads to tell you!"

Nobara - Shopping malls, ferry rides, beach dates, parks with cherry blossoms.

"Baby... tell me, have you ever seen anything as joyous as the ocean?"

You two stood by the seashore, fingers intertwined, your head resting on her shoulders, the sound of the seas splashing against the rocks and the warmth around your foot, it tingled but it feels good at the same time.

"I don't want this moment to end, [your name]."

"Why is that, pretty one?"

A faint sigh leaves her lips, you feeling her body loosen up.

"I just.. school is sort of stressful so my time spent with you liberates me from the pressure, fatigue, and image of curses embedded in my brain. Walking with you... through this airy womb of skies and clouds, don't you know it makes me happy?"

You leaned closer, pressing a soft peck on her cheeks, earning yourself a pair of scarlet cheeks with a gorgeous smile from the one next to you. You turned yourself to face her, hands on her shoulders, bringing her body closer to yours.

"Whenever and wherever you need me, I will be there. I might not be perfect, but I am gonna do my best to be the one you can always count on."

You pressed a kiss on her left cheek.

"I love you."

A kiss on her right cheek.

"I love you."

A kiss to the lips of the woman whom you shared your entire universe with.

"To the moon and back, I love you, Kugisaki Nobara."

The end.

tags : @tojisveryown @sookyshima @megumifushi @sixeyesgojo @sirthisisa-wendys @sasso-oda @fushigurocockslut @nkogneatho @kotarousgf @noritoshiikamo

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tomtenadia · 3 years ago

Text

Scary feelings - Rowaelin month day 1

Prompt: I just realised I am desperately in love with you

(I suck at titles)

----

Rowan Whitethorn was not a fan of crowds. Or people in general.

It was a Friday night and his flat was far too crowded for his own tastes, but he and his colleagues would take turns in organising get togethers and eventually his time came around. People might call him a loner and a grump but he just loved peace and quiet.

“Come on grampa, have fun.” Shouted Fenrys across the living room with a bottle of beer in his hands, offering one to hm as well. Rowan sighed heavily and joined the blonde man and plopped on the sofa ignoring the ruckus around him. He had already enough.

He was busy hating the evening when someone sat at his side: the smell of lemon and verbena familiar to his nostrils. He turned and saw Aelin sprawled on the couch and a beer in her hand. Most of the people were teachers working in the same high school. Rowan was the biology teacher and Aelin had recently been hired to be the new PE teacher after the previous one retired. She was friendly with everyone and he was positive that every single male teacher had a crush on her. She was gorgeous. Rowan had no issues admitting that. He had seen her once in shorts after one of her classes. Legs perfectly tanned and going on for days. Hair gold as the sun and the most amazing turquoise eyes he had ever seen, with a ring of gold in them. He had slammed against the wall and his students laughed at him that day. He had been dumbstruck, and in every other occasion they had to interact he had to work very hard to keep his cool. They were colleagues, they had to be professional.

“Good to see that you know how to chill, Whitethorn.” Her voice broke his reverie and when he turned he saw her taking a drink of her beer, her head tilted back and her neck exposed. Rowan stood quickly and moved away. What was happening to him? Why all of a sudden he felt the urge to lean forward and kiss the column of her neck, tracing his tongue along it and nip at the sweet spot at its base?

“You okay, man?” Asked Aedion who had noted him running away like a possessed person “did my cousin made lewd jokes again?”

Rowan leaned against the wall and shook his head “no, she is fine. I just needed to stand a bit. This is too much for me.”

Aedion patted his shoulder and left him alone and slowly his gaze returned to Aelin. She was talking to Fenrys and laughing at something that the young TA had said and something irrational rose in him. Damn, was he jealous?

She must have felt him staring because her head slowly turned and her gaze landed on him and the smile she gave him almost stopped his heart. He tried to smile back and failed and saw her raise an eyebrow at him as if in question at his reaction. Slowly he tried to regain control of his emotions, that was something he was good at, appear like an emotionless bastard. Wasn’t that the reason Lyria dumped him for another man? Because he was incapable of showing love and was just a block of ice who pretended to have feelings? He pushed back from the wall and walked to Lorcan. If Rowan had a reputation of being cold, no one beat Lorcan. He was the math teacher and probably one of the most hated ones at that.

“You look a mess.” Said the dark-haired man.

“You look like you are having fun instead. Very unusual for you.”

“I got my eyes on the small brunette near Galathynius, do you know her?”

“I think she is a friend of Aelin. She is called Elide if I remember the introductions.”

Lorcan took a sip of his beer and kept staring at the woman “well, she is definitely my type.” And with a powerful move Lorcan pushed away from the wall.

“Don’t fuck up.” Said Rowan to the man while he was walking away. Lorcan was not the most stable when it came to relationships.

He was alone on the balcony to enjoy fresh air and peace when a person joined him and leaned against the rail at his side.

Lemon verbena. He inhaled the scent and kept looking straight at Orynth at night.

“You seem off, Whitethorn.”

“I am okay,” he sipped the last of his beer and kept ignoring her, afraid of what he would do if he stared at her.

“Looks like the rumour are true.” She turned and her back was now against the rail, her arms at her chest.

He allowed himself a peek and his chest tightened. She had a green dress with a puffy skirt and she was breathtaking. A deep urge to kiss rose in him.

“What rumours?” He said in a gruff voice.

“That you are a loner and a bit of a cranky old bastard.”

Rowan chuckled “I love my reputation. It keeps people away.”

“Who hurt you? Who made you like this?” She asked, moving a step closer to him.

Rowan stood motionless and stared in the depth of her blue eyes. How could she know? Only a handful of people knew how Lyria had crushed him.

“She doesn’t know what she gave up.” Commented Aelin quietly.

Now confusion was clear on his face.

Aelin leaned forward and finished her beer “It’s just a mask. How do I know? Because I have one too. I am the happy easy going PE teacher who is lovable and chatty.” And her tone changed all of a sudden “my fiancee dumped me a week before our wedding. He found himself a newer version. It broke me and having a mask makes it easier to deal with people.” She confessed and Rowan could not look away from the pain in her face and tried to restrain himself from hugging her.

“Lyria left me for another man. Apparently I am incapable of love.”

Aelin gently took his hand “You just haven’t found the right person yet.” She squeezed it and then walked away leaving him alone once more. His heart raced madly in his chest

Going back to work after the party had been tragic. Rowan had spent the weekend thinking about Aelin and what she had told him. Thinking as well at the pesky feeling that had slowly started to creep up. Because the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he was falling for her. He had been since the beginning when she joined the team of professors. She was incredible, and funny and apparently very caring as well. The previous day he had seen her in the school yard consoling two young teenagers who were distressed and crying in her arms. He had followed the scene from the distance and that’s when it hit him. He was in love with her. Madly. He had tried to deny the feeling for a while and it worked until that damned party. Until that moment on the balcony.

He walked back to his class and sat at his desk trying to ignore the pounding of his chest. Pushing away the realisation that his feeling for Aelin went deeper than he thought.

A deep sigh of relief left him when the next class walked in the room.

Later he was on his way to the break room, a book in his hands and his messenger bag strapped on his shoulder when he crashed into someone.

“What the heck.” Said the outraged female voice.

Rowan looked down and saw Aelin crouched down collecting scattered papers. He kneeled quickly and helped her “I am sorry.”

“Do you always walk and read?”

“Most times,” he smiled “I am usually better at knowing what goes around me.” He passed her the last few papers and stood. Aelin was now in front of him “come, have lunch with me.”

Rowan was taken aback by the offer. He made a step for the teachers room, but Aelin grabbed his hand “come with me, I know a better place.”

Silently he followed her, realising that he would probably follow her no matter what.

Hand in hand they walked around the ground until Aelin stopped in a quiet corner of the yard and sat under an oak tree. It was a nice spring day and the weather was turning warm.

Aelin sat down, back against the trunk and he stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Eventually he took a seat at her side and took out his lunch from the bag: a chicken salad that contained more vegetables than chicken.

Aelin looked at the tub and its contents in disgust.

“That’s why you are always grumpy… if my lunch looked that sad, I’d be grumpy to.” And she extracted a plastic tub containing an obscene portion of lasagna “my mum made it for me the other day. I went to hers for lunch and she cooked for an army.”

She stabbed the food with a fork and then turned it to him “try it.”

Rowan looked at her puzzled.

“Come on Whitethorn, I don’t have the plague. Give it a go.”

Rowan caved and took the bite she offered. The food was amazing and found himself smiling in satisfaction.

“Look, I made you smile and it made you all the way more handsome.”

His eyes popped open in surprise at her comment.

Aelin laughed and the sound of her happiness brought him joy. He’d do anything to see her smile. Her face would lit in up in the most stunning way. Gods, he was in far, far deeper than he thought.

“What?” She asked at her expression.

“You are the most stunning woman I ever met.” He said and then realised that he had uttered those words out loud. Shit.

She smiled again and took another bite and Rowan decided it was now or never. He had to tell her and also brace for a crushing rejection. There was no way she was into him. She could have every man, why would she choose him?

He cleared his voice “I am in love with you,” he admitted, looking in her eyes “I think I have been for a while but it dawned on me at that party at my flat. You are stunning, intelligent, fierce, caring and funny and I think and I am totally and utterly in love with you.”

She placed her plastic container on the side and he thought he had just ruined everything.

“Go on,” was all she said “let it all out.”

“I promised myself never again. It was not worth it. But then you arrived and threw that to the winds.” He ran a hand through his hair “I was even jealous of you talking to Fenrys at the party. That’s why I kept to myself. I could finally put a label on my feelings and it scared me. I was never good at dealing with emotions and probably everyone is right, I am a cold heartless bastard.”

“Maybe,” she said brushing his hair “but in front of me I see a man who can be very capable of love if the right person comes along.”

Rowan was again speechless and his eyes closed on instinct at the feeling of her hand brushing his hair.

“Say it again.”

His eyes popped open in a question and Aelin nodded.

“I am desperately in love with you.”

She smiled again and his breath hitched.

“And what are we going to do about that professor Whitethorn?”

“Maybe I can take you out to dinner?”

Aelin leaned forward to kiss his cheek “I’d love that very much.”

And in that instant he realised that for her… for her he could try again.

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin galathynius #prompt

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prettylightsbigcity · 3 years ago

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Dec 3, 2021 Day 9 - Carry On

Look, I wanted to do three aesthetic moodboards for the three books, but then I realized I kind of already did a Carry On moodboard for Day 1 (Youth). SO naturally I made another moodboard and also wrote this snippet. It’s a rewrite/remix of a section of Carry On Chapter 31 from Baz’s POV. Rated G. Read below or here on ao3.

***

Baz

I lingered at dinner tonight because the trek back to Mummer’s and up all those stairs seemed incredibly daunting to me after my first full day back at Watford. I can’t believe how little energy I have now; I’m completely exhausted just from regular classes, and I know I’ll have to drag myself down to the Catacombs later as well. I sat around in the dining hall for so long that most of the student body left, so I took the opportunity to fill Dev and Niall in a bit on where I’d been without being overheard by other nosy eighth-years. I kept the details scarce, but they know I was kidnapped, and they know I’m not going to be back in fighting form for a while. I saw them trading glances when they walked with me to classes today; I know they noticed that I’m limping. To their credit, neither of them forced me to endure any looks of pity, and when I was finished giving them the short version of what happened, Dev clapped his hand on my shoulder and told me Watford hadn’t been the same without me, and Niall gave my hand a squeeze and grinned in agreement.

When most of the tables in the hall had been completely cleared, I finally had to face the music and drag myself back to Mummer’s. Dev and Niall offered to walk with me, but I declined and sent them on ahead. I didn’t need any witnesses to my arduous slog up the tower stairs. I have to stop every ten steps or so and lean against the railing, and when I finally reach the top, I’m panting and my leg is burning. The shower is running when I open the door to our room. I limp over to my side of the room and slump down onto the end of my bed, letting my bag fall to the ground by my feet. I rest my elbows on my knees and let my head fall into my hands. I breathe in, tasting the steam from Snow’s shower in the air, inhaling the antiseptic sharpness of the school-issued soap and a hint of something purely Simon. I feel like crying, but I’ll have to wait until I’m in the Catacombs, and right now, I can’t imagine getting down all those stairs and hauling myself back up afterwards. The shower stops, and I brace myself to get back up and put a mask over my pain and weariness. I listen to Snow move around the bathroom; fabric sliding, the tap running, and then the sound of his razor scraping against stupidly chiseled jawline.

“Ouch, fuck!” I hear him hiss quietly, and I close my eyes, trying not to imagine the warm, buttery blood welling up where Snow has nicked himself.

I rise wearily from the bed, and reach for my bag so I can appear busy when Snow emerges. Unfortunately, nothing could fully prepare me for the wave of warm air that accompanies Snow’s entrance. His scent hits me like a racing train, and I snap my head up to look at him before I can stop myself. He’s wearing plaid pajama bottoms, low on his hips, and he’s fucking shirtless. He��s got a towel draped around his neck, and water is dripping from his saturated curls. I watch a droplet fall onto his collarbone and roll down his chest. My teeth snap shut, and I grimace.

“What are you doing?” I ask, desperately trying and failing to school my features back into impassivity.

“Taking a shower,” he spits, his hackles already raising, “what’s your problem?”

I almost laugh; I can feel it rising hysterically in my throat, and I shove it down ruthlessly. I yank my Greek textbook out and toss my bag down roughly.

“You. Always you,” I tell him.

If only you knew exactly how much of a problem you are for me, Snow. You consume my every thought.

He’s saying something sarcastic as he steps closer, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. I force myself to look away from all the skin he has on show. I look down at my hands and ask Snow where his bloody necklace is. It doesn’t do much, but I need all the help I can get right now. I noticed he wasn’t wearing it the moment he leapt up at my entrance to the dining hall. Apparently, the thought hadn’t crossed Snow’s mind.

“My what?” he asks stupidly.

“Your cross,” I hiss.

Simon flushes, and I look away, pulling my legs up onto my bed and leaning back against the wall. I’ll bury myself in my Greek homework. I won’t look at him again, I won’t look anywhere other than this textbook until Snow is sound asleep. Naturally, Snow isn’t about to let that happen. I should have known better. He’s crowding close to my bed, holding up his infernal necklace, daring me to say something as he glares into my eyes. I return his blazing stare, unblinking, until he finally concedes, slipping the chain over his head and stepping back. I sit up straighter, focusing on keeping my breathing even. He asks me where I’ve been. I consider answering “plotting,” but I deflect instead. The smell of Snow’s magic is rising like a haze around him.

“You look like shit, you know,” he spits.

I can’t help but laugh, a short, ugly sound.

“Thank you, Snow. You’re looking rough and weedy yourself.”

He is; I’ve been stealing glances at him all day. His shoulder blades are visible through the back of his school shirt, and his face still has the lean, hungry look it has immediately after he returns from summer break. I wish I could ask him why; he looks like he’s not eating, and Snow is always eating. All day, I’ve been wondering is he’s sick, if he’s been cursed or sent off on some horrible mission for the Mage, or—

I have to stop obsessing over Snow; I have enough problems of my own. I spend a few more minutes skimming through a chapter on Greek conjugations, but I already know pretty much everything written in this textbook. I risk another look at Snow. He’s sitting at his desk with his back towards me, tormenting his curls as he stresses and strains over his notebook. I sigh. With tremendous effort, I pull myself off the bed, slip on my shoes, and make my painful way down the stairs, leaving Snow to flounder through his homework in peace.

#carry on countdown #coc 2021 #moodboard #my fic #carry on #day 9

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lyallblacklupin · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt: Wolfstar - Sirius opens up to Remus about his thoughts on dating a werewolf. Any rating you want.

I truly apologize for such a late response. Your prompt was quite the unique one and I hope you like how I wrote it. Thank you for an amazing suggestion! Happy Reading! <3

Rating: Mature (Implied Sexual Content.)

Sirius bursts into the common room with the deepest frown on his face and the biggest pout on his lips which is enough to cast everyone’s attention in the room. Marlene squints from her magazine, James sits up from Lily’s lap, and Peter sets down his chocolate (which rarely happens, that means some disaster awaits the Marauders and others around them.) However, the only person who is straining his nerves to look nonchalant—but the nostrils don’t help much but flare hopelessly—is none other than Remus Lupin.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Sirius says curtly. James looks around to see who is he addressing with such aggression, and it is again none other than Remus Lupin sitting with a book hiding his face. The tension in the air is so thick that can only be cut with a knife.

“I am talking to you, Remus.” He speaks again, his voice is emphatic on each of his words. Remus changes the direction of the book from his face as if it is a mask, but it is still in between his index finger and thumb. His eyebrows are cocked up higher enough to disappear in his golden fringe.

“I’m sorry but I don’t have time to discuss anything as useless and pointless as your drama.” He says.

Peter gasps, Lily flinches, and Marlene snorts. Sirius shoots her a glare.

“Sorry.” She recovers and hides back her face in the magazine.

“You think I am being dramatic about this?” Sirius turns back and asks indignantly.

“I don’t think you are being dramatic,” Remus makes an innocent face suddenly, waving his hands to his sides. His facial expressions are always priceless, “but I think you are dramatic.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Lupin!” Sirius looks extremely mortified as he scoffs at him and the next thing everyone knows that he is climbing the dormitory stairs, and then which follows with a loud slam of the door.

The silence in the room is filled with the crackling sound of the fire before their sitting spot until James clears her throat as his eyes—in fact, everyone’s eyes land on Remus who is sitting like a terrified cat, scared but too prideful to admit his harshness.

“So…umm, you guys having a row?” James finally says.

“You think?” Marlene makes a bored face before she turns to Remus, “So tell me, darling, what is your problem?”

“My problem?” He asks as if he can’t believe he has been asked that question.

“Yes, Rem,” Lily says suddenly, looking stern and concerned at the same time, “Your problem.”

“How can you say that without knowing what’s going on between us!”

“We don’t know what’s going on between you two, but what we know is that you insulted him in front of everyone and now you don’t feel bad about it?” Lily scolds Remus, who looks like he has been slapped. He looks down at his hands. His books are still between his hands. He has been feeling bad the second he said those mean words to Sirius, and now he feels a lot worse than a few seconds ago. He is looking down at his book while his mind racing on how should apologize to his boyfriend before a shadow grows on which makes him look up to see James Potter snatching the book from his hands. He doesn’t even get a chance to protest because James is already settling his head on Lily’s lap, and acting to read that book.

“Fine, Potter!” He threw his hands up in surrender and stands up to make his way to the dormitory. He sees the smirk breaking on James’ lips but his eyes never leaving the book page which he is definitely not reading at all.

He opens the door of the dorm, and the air smells stale and something is on fire. The urgency suddenly takes place in his body as he walks around to find four perfectly tucked beds, the bathroom door is opened which means Sirius is not inside.

He sees the window opened and sees the wisps of faint smoke in his view. He comes close to lean out. His side glance catches Sirius sitting on the extremely narrow ledge with his legs dangling in nothing but a groundless view of Hogwarts beneath his feet, and for a second Remus has decided that his heart has stopped beating. He staggers back in to process the view in his head.

“Fucking shit! Fuck! Merlin!” Remus curses when his brain completely registers the terrifying idiocy of his boyfriend. He leans out again to call him, “Sirius, are you out of your fucking mind!?”

He doesn’t reply because he is smoking his cigarette in the most seductive way, or maybe he is smoking just fine but Remus can’t help but feel something funny in his lower abdomen.

“Sirius?” He says again with his clenched teeth.

“I will not listen to you unless you put your anger aside,” Sirius says with a deadpanned face which is, by the way, glimmering in the moonlight as if it is something sacred. His beauty is ethereal and yet so sharp to cut someone’s heart into two. Remus swallows because it is a mouth-watering sight. But then he remembers. This is exactly what they have been fighting about; Werewolf instincts. The moon is close, and the wolf is flowing into him.

“This is not some joke, Sirius! This is extremely dangerous! Come back in this instant!”

“See, no gentleness,” Sirius sighs and takes a drag from his cigarette, “Not coming right now.”

This is infuriating, Sirius is in fact infuriating. However, yelling at him is just like setting more fire on the raging flames. Remus inhales, and then reaches out his hand from the window for Sirius, “Please. Come inside, Sirius.”

“Nopes.” Remus clenches his mouth but then relaxes.

“Look, Sirius, I’m getting really worried for you. Please, come back? I promise I’m not angry.”

“I can see you grinding your teeth.” Remus grimaces but then eventually smiles in surrender. Sirius can be very convincing without any animalistic forms.

“Yes, because you are annoying,” His voice is utterly soft, “but I love you just like that. Will you come to me?”

Sirius narrows his eyes and cocks an eyebrow which instantly causes Remus to chuckle, along with a feeling of gushing love inside him.

“Okay, I’m coming.” He takes his hand and jumps inside to wrap his arms around Remus who immediately holds him in his embrace. Due to the height difference, Sirius stands on his tiptoes to hug him so the latter boy scoops his legs up to wrap around his waist and Sirius wastes no time to comply.

“I’m sorry, love…” Remus nuzzles his head in his hair.

“It’s okay, I know you’re not feeling good. The moon…” Sirius' voice is tired and low. It is always surprising to see his bottomless patience for Remus’ condition, considering how much edgy he can be otherwise.

“Hey…” Remus makes them sit on the nearest bed. Sirius completely sits on his lap with his legs tied around him, and his hands laced around his neck. He looks so small, and Remus doesn’t want to see his sadness. After a long drag of silence and relishing each other with feather-light touches and kisses, Sirius whispers in his skin.

“Why can’t you let me have you?”

“I’m right here. You have me.” Remus whispers back with his lips still lingering on his cheeks.

“Completely…Moony…” The voice breaks his heart, and he looks up at Sirius' hurting eyes.

“Sirius, this is not a joke.”

“Moony, I don’t take you as a joke in my life. Not even in the slightest.”

“You don’t realize how dangerous it is.”

“Then make me!” And Remus winces but doesn’t leave his grip on Sirius’ waist, “I want you all. I…I like it that way…” The last words hang awkwardly in the air with Sirius blushing like he has tomatoes beneath his cheeks.

“You are not serious, are you?” Remus lets out a hollow laugh.

“Yes, Moony, I’m serious about this.” He is frozen because Sirius’ eyes scream nothing but the truth, and most importantly he has completely missed the pun.

“You are…” He stutters but Sirius cuts him off.

“Yes. I want to be with you in every part, Remus. You lose control? I don’t care! I want you to be the most honest version of yourself. I want to love you more. I fell in love with your rawness, your scars, and your real self. I want you to lose control.” Sirius rocks him and tightens his grip on his neck, and Remus closes his eyes, “I want to have you in the most Remus way. Your way. Just you. All of you.”

Remus inhales the scent of Sirius that is beginning to saturate around him, enveloping him in the haze of his soul and body. He feels lightheaded with the softest sensation of certain lips brushing his neck and jaw. A shiver runs down his body, and a whimper comes out of his mouth.

“Sirius, you…can’t…you are…please, no…” Because Sirius cannot understand this.

“Moony, it’s okay.” Lips still roaming dangerously at the back of his ear.

“No, it’s not!” Remus snaps, causing Sirius to flinch, and instantly he feels terrible. He immediately rests in hand back on Sirius’, “Please, don’t be disappointed in me…Merlin, I can’t hurt you, Sirius.” His free hand travels up to hold the other boy’s face which looks as gloomy as death, “I just love you too much for that…you can’t ask me to ruin you! You can’t ask me to fuck you like an animal! I know I’m not enough for you—“

“No! You are more than enough, Remus!” Sirius pleads with eyes that were at the brink of spilling tears.

“Sirius…” Remus sighs, not leaving his grip on Sirius’ hand. The silence fills them up again. His eyes wander around the dimly emitted dorm, then to the opened window where an almost full moon peeks out like a thundering reminder. Sirius looks down at their hands but stays quiet…pretty much tired. He looks exhausted. Remus shakes their hands for him to look up and he forces a smile on his tightly pressed lips.

“I’m not asking you to break me,” Sirius speaks lowly after a while, “I’m asking you to be yourself. Is that too much to ask?”

“Myself is not pretty to encounter, Sirius.”

“You think I need you to be pretty? You think I would want you fancy and sparkly? I don’t expect perfection from you because I know you have millions of flaws and imperfections, and fuck I fell in love with all of those! Call me sick or downright stupid, but it is the truth. You being a werewolf is something that the Marauders know, and that makes us feel honored and so so special to know that part of you. That you allowed us to know that part of yourself. Is it a beautiful part to you? No. But is it a beautiful part to me? Yes! I cannot disgust you because this was never in your hands. You were given this! Worse or best, but it is you. And I love you. I love that part of you. I’m so sorry that you got what no one would ever even wish upon their enemy, but that doesn’t make me want to hate that part of you. I love you whole.”

He reaches forward to put both of his hands on Remus’ face to wipe away the flooding tears, which is when Remus realizes that he is crying. The realization hits him like an iceberg and sobs erupt from him. Sirius wastes no time to quickly hold him against his chest as he keeps rubbing his back.

“Listen, you are not ready, and it’s okay my love,” Sirius brings in mouth closer to Remus’ ear, “I just want you to know that you don’t have to hold back your urges. You don’t have to hold back anything. I want to let you know completely and soundly that I’d do anything for you to make you feel yourself. This is what I feel about you. I hope you understand this, truly, but tell me if you still don’t I’ll try my best to open up more to you. But at the same time, open up to me, too. Be with me, for real.” He emphasizes each of his words, and Remus nods in his chest.

He pulls himself back to look at Sirius’s face. His hands trace his perfect face with careful eyes and he realizes that he fell in love with the real Sirius Black. He knows that his boyfriend has different images for other people which mainly rules by arrogance and reserved personality. However, with Remus, he is a totally different person, the happiest and calmest he has ever seen.

“I love you, too.” It comes out in a wavering voice, and Sirius smiles genuinely, “You already opened up to me, you, perfect git.” He nudges his elbow in his ribs, making him laugh, “You wouldn’t…care…if I…you know…”

“Lose control?” Sirius suggests with tenderness in his voice which causes Remus to shudder. He nods at him tentatively.

“No, Moony. My love for you will never lessen because of that. I want you this way. I want to see you this way. Your way. Just don’t hold back. I am here. Always will be.” He turns his face just a fraction to plant a kiss on Remus’ hand that was holding his face.

“Okay…okay…” He swallows and feels damp with cold sweating. His palms are sweating too against Sirius’ face but he brushes off the thought and braces himself to take that mask off. It feels like tearing down his skins. It is like more than being naked. He leans in and kisses him hesitantly but Sirius complies with firm lips and eager hands. And Remus relaxes, deepening the kiss. His head feels fuzzy, his fingers are altering to the warmth of Sirius’ bareback, and his legs are wrapping round his waist as if they are returning to the place they belong. He is melting in his body.

It doesn’t take long when the swooning is over, and the urge to get the upper hand on their intimate connection grows on Remus. His hands slide down from their intertwined hands to hold Sirius’ wrist. He uses his weight as leverage to push him on the bed, and dive in to kiss his neck. He also realizes that Sirius is loud as he groans and moans on the tiniest touches. Remus doubts that they will get through this. He gets on all fours with a flushed Sirius beneath him. He sees his face is glowing like pearls that speak nothing but reassurance.

“It’s okay, love. It’s alright, Moony.” He whispers and gets up to reach Remus’ mouth. When they share a languid kiss, Remus decides that it is going to be okay. It is going to be alright.

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vowled · 3 years ago

Text

Kill Your Darlings: An Analysis of its Twists and Themes

A few days ago, I watched Kill Your Darlings, and needless to say, I became completely mesmerized by it. Naturally credible characters with well-crafted backstories portraying a true story of Love, Obsession and Murder, it's everything a person could ask for in a movie. The colour palette of the movie radiates comfort and the sound track takes you back in time when these two bright young men were falling in love. Right from the start it was apparent that there were many themes in the undercurrent of the movie, and these were such that required some amount of thoughtful contemplation. And I was incredibly sorry to not find any post or review which critically discussed the themes of the movie and did it justice- so after doing some reading and digging up as much as I could, here I am making an attempt to analyze the twists and themes of the story.

The Crucial Plot-twist

The Night In Question- why the movie's recounting of the events is fictitious:

When faced with the prospect of writing the deposition for Lucian, Allen tried his best to gather information about the events that led to David's murder. However, it proved to be a difficult feat as Lucien himself would not speak much about it clearly. So he pieced together what he could from the bits of information he got. However, we see Lucian vehemently opposing the deposition written by Allen and claiming it to be false. After some thought, I find that I believe Lucian's claims. Most of the following arguments are rooted in the fact that Lucien's relationship with David was an abusive one, where David basically groomed Lucian and was a sexual predator. I suggest reading my post here to gain more insight about how the abuse affected him.

"You weren't there, you don't know what happened." These words right here- they're the words of a victim. Being subjected to a form of sexual abuse myself, I found these words hitting me like a brick ton. These are words coming from a pained soul that refuses to recount traumatic incidents. He's practically saying that the abuse was so bad he had to kill his abuser to be free from it.

Even after Allen saw first-hand what a total creep David could be, even after knowing the man had stalked Lucian across multiple cities, he had to ask Lucian why the latter killed David when he "could have run". This tells me he couldn't exactly relate to Lucian's situation and wasn't very keen on believing him. Although he displayed a moment of intimate affection, there's still a lingering feeling of yeah but he broke my heart inside him. After learning how Lucian drowned David, he even begins questioning if he should help him at all. At this point, Allen doesn't trust Lucian enough to actually care how accurate the story is. So he wrote what he could, what he felt right. But even he couldn't condemn his friend/first love to such a fate as prison, so eventually he submitted it as his final paper. In all honesty, I thought that turning it in was a brilliant move, and one which also further proved that the "once you loved him too" version was mostly fanciful fiction.

Throughout the movie, sequences have been played in reverse frames (and I found this so pleasing) and from the nitrogen-inhaling scene, we know that these sequences designated memories playing out in Allen's head or his subconscious creating dreamscapes. And here's the catch- the entire scene of Lucian taking a walk with David and eventually killing him began with frames played in reverse order. This gives the absolute proof that the movie's depiction of the events were fictitious.

Allen's P.O.V. of the events mainly relied on the argument that at some point, Lucian genuinely loved and needed David. This couldn't be further away from the truth. When you're 14 and and being groomed and coaxed by an older guy, a lot many things could feel like love because you haven't experienced them before; but in reality, it's never love, it just is another form of violence.

Themes running through the movie

"There can be no Creation before Imitation"

We see Professor Steves saying this at the beginning of the movie, hinting that it would be a theme in the story. This statement is reflected throughout Allen's progression and development as a poet:

In the beginning, we see him being hugely influenced by his father's works and possibly trying to imitate him through poetic devices such as consonance.

Next, we see him imitating Professor Stevens' style of writing in his poem "the rose that scents the evening air, grows from by beloved's hair" which Lucian outright criticizes.

It is only with the poem Allen recites to Lucian on the boat that he starts developing some sort of originality. That poem in particular is directly drawn from his personal experiences and delivers splendidly.

This development continues as he proceeds to write "The Night In Question" wherein he brilliantly describes his opinion of how things went down. It was this streak that would eventually propel him to write his most celebrated poem, "Howl".

The Circle of Life and How Allen Breaks it

We see Lucian telling Allen how "Life is only interesting if it is wide" and about Yeats' "Circle of Life". As displayed by the linked document, turns out the circle of life is quite complex a thing, and the movie displays a lay-man's version of it. As Lucian tells about it to Allen, unbeknownst to them both, Allen also enters the circle and changes the turn of events:

It is obvious that at the party at David's, Allen was a misfit. David even goes so far as to literally call him out and point how unremarkable he was, but says how given the correct circumstances, even Allen could change things. And what's extraordinary is exactly this happens next: the liquor runs out in David's party and Allen suggests they should change the venue of the party- hence hijacking David's party!

We see Allen's life widen as he becomes closer to Lucian and starts doing things he'd never done before. At the same time, he also plays an important role in changing Lucian's life as well. It's Allen who suggests at first that Lucian should break up with David and stop taking his help. Later in the movie, after learning about David's obsessive behaviour, it's again Allen that said "we should get rid of him". Again, here we see some foreshadowing. Allen could have worded it in any probable way, and yet he suggested getting rid of David which subtly implied killing him. I do believe that this happened to become a subliminal suggestion to Lucian and furthered his murderous intent.

Hence, although Lucian radically changes Allen's life, the latter does so too in unlikely and unexpected ways.

Sacrifices (and Rituals?)

Since the beginning of the movie, we know that the characters are all extraordinary men and that they are capable of something revolutionary. But it was apparent that all of them would need a catalyst to set things in motion- a sacrifice of some sort which would help them break their moulds and free their inner poet. Allen's love for Lucian and his wish to impress him did make him work toward become better at writing. It was the fear of completely losing Lucian to Jack that made Allen put all his effort into writing, and made him come up with his best work yet - here, the fear acted as the catalyst.

However, the most significant thing in connection to this happened in this scene where Lucian cuts both of their palms and holds them up together - this can be considered a Blood Ritual.

"A blood ritual is any ritual that involves the intentional release of blood. Blood rituals often involve a symbolic death and rebirth, as literal bodily birth involves bleeding. Basic to both animal and human sacrifice is the recognition of blood as the sacred life force in man and beast. The participants may regard the release of blood as producing energy useful as a sexual, healing, or mental stimulus. In other cases, blood is a primary component as the sacrifice, or material component for a spell."

The fact that this event took place inside Allen's head during a trippy session outlines how Allen had subconsciously taken a blood oath with Lucian to further The New Vision. This process of developing their revolutionary ideas would successfully progress for the rest of the movie; however, before its completion, the oath demanded a sacrifice- and the murder of David became this blood sacrifice.

"With Death comes Rebirth"

In the first half of the movie we see the initiation of this theme; after they've agreed upon to bring up something revolutionary, Allen talks about how rebirth comes only after death, and in their naivety, they play out a pseudo-suicide scene to imitate death. Little did they know greater sacrifices would have to be made. Eventually as events play out, we come to realise that it is David's death that became the cause and medium for their rebirth- both academic and intra-personal. Jack and Bill co-wrote the book "And the Hippos Were Boiled in Their Tanks" about the murder of David Kammerer, and eventually rose to fame, while Allen became popular with "Howl and Other Poems", none of which could have been initiated/inspired without David's death. As for their personal growth, none of them were the same as they were before the affair. I like to think all of them changed for the better. Lucian must have finally felt a sense of relief after getting rid of his abuser, while Allen finally took-off his rose-coloured glasses, saw Lucian under a more critical light, and developed a sense of self-esteem.

A Study in Violence (I was unsure whether to include this point in this analysis or not due to the violent nature of it. But I figure this analysis would remain incomplete should I leave it out. So here it goes..) The sequence from 1:10:00 to 1:12:00 was an in-depth survey of Violence and how it can occur in different forms. In particular, it focused on how any form of penetration is intimately violating.

We see a lonely Allen being so lost that he's about to have sex with a complete stranger. This itself is very unlike him, who in the beginning of the movie was shying away from Lucian kissing an unknown girl. A few sequences later we see how he wasn't very comfortable with this idea (he wanted to turn off the lights but the other guy turned them on) and yet he was made to shift into a position he did not prefer and hence was made to have rough sex.

We see Bill looking very solemn and injecting drugs into his hands.

We see the violent altercation between Lucian and David. We see David forcing himself on Lucian and eventually being stabbed by him.

We see Jack recieving the news of the death of his friend.

In this way, we see every member of the group being exposed to some form of violence, be it sex, drugs, physical altercations or death.

First Love and its aftermath First love is also an important theme of the movie as it shows how one's first love has the capacity to radically change a person from within:

Allen's first love changed him from the shy, people-pleasing always-upright persona to the bold, radical, critical and unafraid person he became at the end of the movie.

Allen's discovery of his own style of writing can also be majorly attributed to Lucian's criticism of his rhyme-schemes.

All in all, it was his love for Lucian that drove him to become a more out-going person and ignited the mischief in his spirit, while the heartbreak of realising Lucian didn't feel the same for him also lent him invaluable insight and allowed him to develop confidence and a sense of self-esteem, which would play a significant role in him eventually becoming his own person.

While Allen's first love furnished him with the overall better things in life, the same could not be said for Lucian, sadly. Lucian's first love reminded us how oppressive love can become if the other person isn't suited-well for us; it showed us how sometimes love and obsession are separated by a thin line, and how dangerous it becomes when the line is crossed.

Lucian's story also showed us how sometimes a relationship can be more abuse than love, and when that happened, how easy it became to confuse violence with love.

The most significant message that the theme of first-love portrays is that there will always be consequences.

With this, I bring my arguments and analyses to a close. I hope a future (or even past) lover of the movie happens to stumble upon this someday and learn something fascinating about the movie (or reignite their love for it). Thank you for reading this far!

[P.S. an uplifting fact: in real life, Lucian, Allen, Jack and Bill each got the type of life they wished for, and remained friends for the rest of their lives :) ]

#kill your darlings #dark academia movies #daniel radcliffe #dane dehaan #movie critique #film analysis #I hope I could word this comprehensibly

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years ago

Text

Freak (One Shot)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Warnings: your writer being a dick about the otp

Word Count: this is the first time that I had to remind a therapist about a session. Usually it was me who would forget about sessions or even booking sessions. But that was also because I was scared. Now I know that in order to get better I need to make a few changes with my way of thinking. Bonus? I did not cry during this PMS cycle.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"...in summary, you touch any of my playthings, you will have to deal with the consequences." Kruge wants to pierce those eyeballs out but he has to stop himself in case he is taken a prisoner for harming the new king of Jotunheim on the very first night. "Understood, your grace," Helbindi gives a little bow and waits for Loki to open the door to his chamber before he lets his fangs out in pure animosity for the God.

Loki makes sure to close the door behind him before he closes his eyes and rests his head on the silver frame with a thud. At least he won't have to keep up the facade of being composed all the time in this room. Did I make the right decision? His thoughts are running at a speed that would be considered normal for Pietro. This is the last place Aellae would invade. He inhales a lungful, his mind addressing a hint of lilac in the cold air. That is if she hadn't already done that. And all the fingers are pointing at Helbindi. I am sure Helbindi has something to d-wait...Lilac?

Those computing brows are suddenly furrowing in curiosity while those eyes open to dart around the room in question. At the other end of this immaculate and massive bedroom, you walk out from the direction of the bath, your wet hair a beautiful mess, your skin glowing in the faint light reflecting off the shining frost, your dark blue pyjama shorts showing off those legs that seemed to have toned a little, thanks to the workout this deadly trip has provided. Out of nowhere, winds are blowing into the bedroom from the balcony to bring Loki more of that lilac scent you are covered in right now. Those teasing soft punches of air are doing their best to tickle your exposed skin while teasing the God with a little bit of peek of some more. He does not realise it but Loki's eyes are stuck on you, his throat trying to gulp down whatever is frozen in there, just not ready to digest the poetry unfolding in front of him. Normally he would have scolded you for putting your used towel on that chair, but right now all his brain can comprehend is you raising your leg on his bed to apply some lotion on it. Your head turns in his direction and he is suddenly finding himself running into the sole vase on his right side. He is Loki- the God of mischief- so, of course, it does not take much time to bring that vibrating vase to a standstill. But he still keeps holding for another moment or two, for the fear that it might move again. Any third person witnessing this can tell it is not exactly the vase he is trying to still. "This painting is nice," he murmurs to himself while looking at a pictureless frame decorating the wall to his side, pointing to it and pretending to appreciate it. His hands, though, cannot seem to find a comfortable position. "You're back?" you ask him, still working on your leg. "Hmm?" He pretends to notice you for the first time, still not ready to lock his eyes with you, instead, playing with his fingers. "Oh, yes. Just...had to give a couple of instruction to the...uhh...boys." "I don't like that Helbindi guy-" you screw your nose and Loki seems to lose a couple of ounces of air- "he gives off bad vibes." "Yeah, yeah he does," he agrees with you, walking slowly and calculatingly towards the bedroom part of the room. Your leg switches. "I'm glad that you have the majority though. That too considering you have been away for a looooong time." You raise your head and he busies himself in the ferns kept at the entrance of the bed-chamber before asking himself what his idiotic ass was trying to do. Finally finding the strength, he looks back up at you and nods with a smile. Walk to the other side of the bed, he is practically giving the basic instructions to his brain now. She isn't going out like this, is she? That one part of his brain clad in some dark crevices questions him. That one simple thought seems to raise multiple silent alarms in his body. "So-" he tries to point at you and the door but fails and instead takes his finger to scratch an itch at the back of his neck- "you're going to sleep in now?" That glowy leg worth months of hair growth suddenly drops on the floor. And so does your face. Loki cannot make out what you're thinking because he is busy waiting for your answer. "You want me to sleep somewhere else?" It's just a softly put question. But your eyes seem to glimmer in sadness as if he just betrayed you some way. "What?" he is more surprised by the fact that you did not think of it as a possibility. Why would she sleep somewhere else? We've been doing it the whole trip! Well, the whole trip did not have rooms like this one, balconies like this one and certainly not a view like this one. Loki breathes, opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out for a good few seconds. He is still trying to make his mind look away from all the stray water droplets falling from your hair inside your clothes. "No-" he blinks, bringing his eyes back to yours, licking his lips, he is soft in his speech- "um, you stay here." Loki, you are a God. With the sudden reminder, he clears his throat, straightens his back and brings back that dominating energy in the room. "You stay here," he orders this time. Your quick smile is already melting that robust core of his. And that quick jump on his bed catalysis the effect. "Cool!" You sit there with your legs folded under you, thighs spread, and that shirt not covering as much as it is supposed to. "Woah!" you snapped him out of his trance as you took a little jump on the bed. The sudden glow in your eyes was sending a tingling sensation down his spine. "Oh," you exclaimed, going up and down on your thighs, "we finally have a hard mattress! God, I'm old!" Loki just stood there, watching you arch your back as you went up and down, testing the bed, and at the same time testing his fortitude. Why-why is she not wearing a bra? Loki smacks his inner self. That's what concerns you right now? "Stop that," he growls. One final jump and you are falling on your back with a long sigh. That tingle seems to have subsided but as it is going back, Loki's gaze cannot seem to come off your body- you lying with your limbs spread out as you groan out loud to remove that fatigue from your lungs. That double chin of yours is quite evident when you raise your head just a little to look for the quilt and bring it closer to you with your feet. Who does she think she is? A part of Loki asks. Beautiful, his inner voice answers without a pause, all dreamy eyes for you and your double chin. "By the Norns, you have to stop," the God growled again, making you pause your leg mid-air with the quilt in between your toes. You drop that quilt just like that and turn to rest your head on your palm. "Stop and...?" that low hoarse tone of your mixed with a wicked glow in your eyes lights up a section inside the God he should not be thinking about. Especially when it has the power to take over his brain. The next time he opens his eyes, you can witness a change in that usually brooding boy to something more...feral? Those bloody eyes of the only Jotun you know are sending you mixed reverberations. By the time you are trying to figure out what it is behind those eyes, Loki's leg is already on the bed and his body over you within two strides. Your hips are locked in by his thighs and he is looking down at you with a simmering gaze. You are definitely questioning all your freaky actions tonight. But I thought I would tease him a little! You know, to get his mind off serious stuff going outside that door!! And here you are, lying under Loki, your hands clasped close to your chest while your eyes are trying to figure out his next move, all the while unconsciously biting your lower lip. Not gonna lie, this blue version of him kinda looks sex- Loki's hands go down, right between his legs. You are about to catch your breath and cross your legs when his hands yank out the quilt from between the two of you to lay it over you. Your lips are still apart, mouth gaping, breaths at a pause while Loki flattens the fabric out over you till your neck before tucking it on your either side to the point that you cannot escape it even if you wanted to. Your brows furrow in disappointed confusion. Your hands are making that universal gesture of 'what the fuck???' under that damned sheet whereas Loki is proudly looking at his work. "That should keep you warm." “Dude!” Is all you can let out from your lungs before letting your body struggle to get out of this cosy prison. Loki gets up and away from the bed to undo his coat, looking away from you and smiling at this little achievement. “Don’t waste your breath, darling. I learned it from my mother. You cannot get out of that hold unless you have calmed down enough to-“ His words disappear when he turns back to witness you already deep in sleep; your lips parted, your head practically drowning in the pillow, and little snores already forming in your nostrils. “How exhausted were you to sleep within seconds?” He whispers, never taking his eyes off. I need to teach her not to sleep with her guard down in suspicious places.

The coat lay on the floor along with the familiar pants and shirt. Loki sits on the bed in a nightgown, letting his back rest on the bed frame while his eyes gather some much needed light sleep. The night outside is still if not for the periodic interruptions of crows here and there. The chill of this frozen land comes as a blessing for this Jotun, who is no longer regulating his temperature as per the Midgardian ways. His Jotun form too is breathing fine, even feeling better than before. A true blessing in disguise. “Mmm…no…I don’t like it…” you mumble in your sleep, opening Loki’s eyes before he knows what’s happening. His hand automatically reaches out for you, coming to rest on your forehead before realising he cannot use magic to get rid of any bad dreams. So, instead, he softly pats your head. Your sleep laden crinkled brows seem to find some peace from those soothing pats, going back to dreamless sleep and loud snores. Loki cannot help but burst into a silent laugh at those snores. How can someone so small and comparatively frail snore worse than a giant?! That laugh that crinkles the edge of his eyes seems to be slowly melting into a smile; and not any ordinary smile at that. It is bringing a sweet realisation with it; a realisation about this human. Among seven billion humans, this one seems to have brought him the comfort he never even dared to feel. The past few days spent in this human's company were far lighter and chirpier than the most extravagant days spent as a child in Asgard. There was no anxiety, no restlessness. Whenever he was not able to collect his thoughts, looking at this human used to bring everything to a standstill. Knowing that he is not alone this time brought a certain peace to his soul; brought solutions faster and escape routes quicker than his enemies could calculate. Is this what it's like to have a friend? To have the want to protect them, fight them, tease them, make their life miserable but never let anyone else lay a finger on them? Is this what friendship means?? As if to answer his question, your snores break into a snort before you wiggle inside your duvet to crawl closer to him in your sleep. Your hand stretches out from under the warm cover, take an elongated sigh till it touches Loki's arm and wraps those toasty fingers around his cold muscle. Loki has paused his existence for a second to make sense of this moment. She feels safe with you, a soothing voice inside him resonates in his core and he is watching you in a new light. Some moisture seems to gather at the edge of his eyes before he blinks it away and slides down to rest his head on the pillow right next to yours. He does not realise it but his arm is frozen in that place for you to hold on to it and there is a slight smile on his lips while his eyes are observing every single detail on your face. The God does not seem to notice a bubble being projected out of the bed to overtake the room with a warmth that is emanating from the celestial being himself. And most of all he does not seem to notice the voice hiding in the dark corner somewhere looking at you with heart eyes. I like this human. She can stay.

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

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Can I request something for tmt? a one shot tho nothing too long I just love tmt jisung he’s my ideal type 🤧😂

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Han Jisung

Genre: Sequel; Drabble

Warnings: Smut and Language

There were two Jisung’s in my book.

The sweet, adoring version of him that I loved who brought me flowers from the store, or who spent long hours staying up with me late into the night to talk about whatever happened to cross our minds.

Then, there was the Jisung who called himself J.One.

The rapper version of him who commanded the stage with an intoxicating charisma, who winked and rolled his eyes as he moved with Chan and Changbin, gesturing to the crowd and ad-libbing into the microphone in unexpected bursts of energy.

He was impossible to resist, but he was all mine. And I had never felt so lucky in my entire life. Despite our rough start, I wouldn’t trade our relationship for anything in the world, and I had become a mainstay at his concerts.

Tonight’s performance ended with their new song, the one that was rapidly rising in the ranks on SoundCloud and garnering more YouTube videos than the average Among Us collaboration. I could tell that the crowd loved it, cheering and screaming even louder once the familiar bass dropped over the speakers.

In these moments, it was easy to see why Jisung was so enamored with this world of underground music and late-night clubs and bars.

“The one in the middle,” a girl yelled into my ear. “He’s really good!”

She was referring to Changbin and I forced myself to nod. “Yeah, he’s alright.”

As long as you don’t let him seduce you, I wanted to add, but perhaps it was better for the group’s image if I didn’t go into long-winded detail concerning Changbin’s exploits. Chan was no better, but at least he had the decency to feel bad and apologize. It made it easier to see him whenever I visited Jisung at their studio.

Changbin on the other hand? Well, he was still inclined to send me flirty looks and whisper rather inappropriate things that I doubt Jisung would want to hear. But that was an argument for another time.

Tonight was all about Jisung, and I could tell that the girl sitting next to me and her posh group of friends were shocked when Jisung and the rest of his group made their way over to me.

“Baby,” Jisung purred when he was close enough, sliding an arm around my waist before bringing me in for a passionate kiss.

It was enough to steal the breath from my lungs, and I pulled away to send a knowing look in the direction of the girls who were watching us with wide eyes and gaping mouths. “You were amazing!” I told Jisung, offering a friendly nod to Chan and Changbin who were already busy scoping out their exploits for the night.

“I feel amazing,” Jisung admitted, and then his mouth was next to my ear. “They gave me my own backstage room. Wanna see?”

“Of course,” I said, grinning because I knew that Jisung’s intentions extended far beyond merely asking me to admire his dressing room.

“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and waving off Chan and Changbin who weren’t even cognizant that their third wheel was leaving with his girlfriend. Hopefully, to screw her brains out because I desperately needed it.

“Your new song was really popular,” I remarked casually as Jisung weaved us in and out of the crowd.

“Yeah?” he smirked. “We spent weeks working on it. I think Chan was ready to call it quits at one point.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t,” I said, feeling myself grow more excited as we disappeared behind the curtain partitioning off the rest of the grimy bar.

It was much less crowded in the back, and Jisung’s hand was already squeezing at my ass as he turned the knob on the door labeled with his name written in bright colors on a slab of wood.

But once we were inside, Jisung ensured that the door was locked before pressing me back against it, reclaiming my lips with desperation. “Slow down, baby,” I gasped between kisses, feeling my way down Jisung’s shirt to palm the tight bulge over his gold-colored pants.

They were skin tight on his lithe frame, and I knew that his erection was straining against the tight material. “Can I fuck you, baby?” Jisung asked, and I smiled the familiar shyness in his eyes, listening to him whimper as I continued to add more pressure against his cock.

“How can I say no to you?” I asked, loving that he was still inclined to act the part of the well-mannered boy who used to follow me around with discreet looks aimed in my direction.

“There’s a condom in my bag,” he said, reluctantly moving away to locate his stuff piled high against one of the chairs.

In the meantime, I wandered over to the stuffy gray couch tucked away in the corner, ignoring the smell as I hitched up my dress before bending over the back. “Sungie?”

“Yeah, ba-” he broke off with a stuttered moan, taking in the sight of me bent over for him just the way he liked. “Y/N,” he whispered, eliminating the space between us with three measured steps before his hands were tugging down my panties and squeezing the soft flesh of my ass. “So beautiful,” he said, and I shivered at the sound of him undoing his belt, pushing down his jeans to mid-thigh along with his boxers.

“Are you ready?” I asked, reaching back to press two fingers into the gaping mess of my pussy, clenching and unclenching as I stretched myself out for him.

I was already wet just from hearing Jisung’s voice alone, admiring him dancing across the stage and, at one point, grinding against the floor.

Jisung groaned in reply to my question, ripping open the condom to tug it over himself. The motion was well-rehearsed at this point, even though he had fumbled the rubber a couple of times during the early part of our relationship. But we fit together like two essentials parts of a machine, and I almost knew his body as well as my own.

“I’ve got you,” Jisung said, pulling me out of my thoughts when he rubbed the tip of his cock against the entrance to my wet cunt.

“Please,” I practically begged him, and Jisung knew better than to tease me for longer than was necessary with our foreplay, and he was sliding home with a long, languid thrust of his hips that had me accommodating the size of his erection as my walls held to him tight. “You’ve got to give me more than that, Jisung!”

“More?” Jisung repeated, sounding a little more confident as he placed both hands on my hips.

I nearly screamed when he started a frantic pace, fucking his cock in and out with perfectly timed thrust of his hips, rolling against my ass with every stroke. I could feel each drag of his erection, filling me so well, to the point where it felt like I could already burst from the friction rapidly building inside of me.

I clenched my hands tighter around the cushions in front of me, closing my eyes as my clit brushed against the rough texture of the couch with every penetration. He was stimulating every part of me, hitting my g-spot at the perfect angle, hitching one of my legs further up around his waist so that he could keep going, faster and faster until I started to grow light-headed from the pleasure.

“I’m close, Jisung,” I warned him, clenching down harder around him to ensure that he felt as much pleasure as I did.

His resounding moan was more than enough confirmation that Jisung was feeling every inch of me, and I could just imagine the look on his face: the concentrated scrunch of his nose and the thin bead of sweat that pooled atop his upper lip.

There was always something riveting about Jisung when he was fucking me, head tossed back and neck exposed. He always liked to watch the place where his cock was stuck inside, using his fingers to feel just how close were in those moments. Sometimes, he might stick his finger in alongside his erection, and that was enough to make me feel even fuller, like I could literally mold myself to him.

The mental image alone was enough to stoke the flames licking at my loins, and I could feel my impending orgasm growing stronger by the minute, especially in conjunction with the loud squelching sounds of his cock hitting me between his rough grunts.

It was dirty and obscene, and I tried not to think about the fact that anybody could walk by, including Chan and Changbin, and hear just how good Jisung was fucking me.

But it was worth the risk, and there was nothing that could ever bring me closer to Jisung, practically feeling him touching my cervix with how deep he was reaching. Like he was determined to split me in half, using just his cock and fingers to completely break me down.

I moaned at the thought, eyes rolling back into my head when Jisung suddenly wrenched back and slammed forward with a powerful thrust, forcing my back to arch even further as he gripped tighter to my ass. In response, I reached back behind me to catch Jisung’s hand, digging my nails into his palm as I suddenly erupted around him. Experiencing wave after wave of unmitigated desire as he fulfilled my deepest urges, grinding his cock against my ass as he moaned and whined in response.

He rode me through my high carefully, sliding his cock gingerly between my pulsating walls, still chasing his own pleasure while remaining mindful of my oversensitivity. But I wanted to feel him cum more than anything, and I told him as much with an exaggerated moan that sent his hips stuttering twice against mine before I felt his release. Something warm and sticky, even though it was hard to appreciate the sensation with a thin layer of latex keeping him from leaking.

Still, I winced when Jisung pulled out, tossing the used condom into the trash as I reached back down for my panties to pull them back into place before falling onto the couch with a sigh. “Fuck,” Jisung cursed, using shaky hands to readjust himself, stuffing his spent cock back into his boxers and jeans.

“Come here,” I said, holding out my arms and inviting him closer into my embrace, nuzzling at the thin layer of sweat building at the base of his neck, inhaling the musky scent of his cologne.

“So good for me,” Jisung said, turning around so that our noses brushed. “Did you like it?”

I smiled, wondering if there would ever come a day when Jisung didn’t question just how amazing he made me feel. “I always love it,” I told him sincerely, reaching out to push a wayward strand of hair behind his ear before leaning in close to whisper a kiss against the pucker of his addictive lips.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #han jisung fanfic #han jisung smut #han smut #stray kids han smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #han jisung imagines #han jisung scenarios #mostlycompetent

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