#Need to bathe you like a puppy and dress you up and click my tongue at you to give you commands!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bnha-dumpster · 4 years ago

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Well I was wondering can I have a izuku x male reader x yo shindo (I love my fluffy boys) using their quirks (I guess people call it quirk-play) on their lover? (Sorry for my bad grammar btw)

of course! i don't think i've written this pairing before so this will be interesting.

pairing: deku x male reader x shindo content warnings: quirk play (deku uses black whip), bondage, light dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation word count: 1.7k

It’s always a bit awkward when you attend events with your partners. Sandwiched between the two of them, Shindo resting his hand on your hip and Midoriya holding your hand, you somehow still feel out of place. You’ve been to a lot of events with them but your feelings have yet to change from the awkwardness. At the very least, they know how to reassure you when you get home.

When you get through the door, Shindo’s already picked you up and slung you over his shoulder, hand shamelessly groping your ass. Midoriya is following the two of you like a puppy. His eyes are yearning and as you look at him, you can see the beginning of Black Whip manifesting in his hand.

You’re honestly expecting one of them to rip your clothes off. It’s far more common than letting you take your own clothes off or just taking them off for you normally. But as you’re laid down on the bed, far more gently that you thought, you watch as Shindo begins to unbutton your dress shirt. He’s slow as he does it, stopping ever few buttons to feel your chest through the fabric.

Behind Shindo is Midoriya, removing his clothes and letting them drop to the floor unceremoniously. A small tent has already formed beneath his boxers and he stops undressing when he notices how your gaze lingers on it.

“You’re going way too slow, Yo.” It’s not unusual for him to express his eagerness, especially when Shindo wants to take it slow.

“Do you not have patience, Zuku? It’s been a while since we’ve been so sensual with him.” He’s not wrong. “Let me get him all riled up, okay?”

His voice is low and has a rumble to it, as if he’s using his his quirk to make him sound that way. It’s that and the way he gently strips you down while staring at your body as if it’s a delectable meal that gets you going. It has you squirming in your spot.

“Don’t get impatient with me too, Y/N.” And there it is. The commanding undertone as Shindo grips your bare thighs a bit too tight; it’s a warning.

“Izuku, bind him up nice and tight.”

And that’s when Black Whip comes into play. Midoriya slots himself behind you on the bed and lets his quirk do the work. Hands bound behind your back, legs up and spread- just the way they both like it.

You can feel Midoriya’s cock rub against your ass, searching for friction. A familiar tongue click stops him. He’s just as submissive to Shindo as you are. He stills and decides to busy himself with your nipples, playing with them and latching onto your neck.

The older hero watches the two of you as he undresses. You’re both so cute, so obedient for him. Two sets of eyes watch his every move, waiting quietly for his words.

“Zuku, be good and get him hard for me.”

A calloused hand travels down your front to gently grip your dick. He’s gentle and strokes you slowly, his hand able to hold you perfectly. You whine and lean against him as he does. Shindo finally gets onto the bed. He settles in front of you on his knees, rubbing his hands on your thighs for a moment. They move past your crotch to go up to your chest, replacing Midoriya’s hand.

Vibrations flow through his fingers as he pinches your nipples. Part of you is glad that he’s focusing on your nipples instead of your cock. It’s so easy to push you over the edge if he uses his quirk on your cock. But Midoriya’s hand is just as good. The younger hero knows exactly where and how you like to be touched. In the end, they both have their ways of driving you crazy.

Between the gentle strokes and the vibrations against your nipples, you’re not sure what exactly makes you cum. You let out a whimper as you do, watching as you cover Midoriya’s hand with your cum. He pulls it back so he can lap the substance up with his tongue like it’s a delicacy.

“Good boy, both of you.” Shindo pulls his hands away to lift your legs up just a bit more. A vibrating finger circles your hole to tease you. He hums when he feels how eager it is to take his finger in.

“Did you prep for this? Were you expecting this? Hm?” A tap on your thigh is your signal to speak.

“Well... We always end up doing this after events so I thought it’d be better to get prepared just in case...”

Your face flushes and he can’t help laughing at your answer. It’s so cute, just like you. Shindo slips his finger in you and curls it, the vibrations already making you squirm. Black Whip’s hold on your legs becomes tighter and you’re unable to move.

“I think we’ll make you cum one more time before we fuck you. How’s that sound?” The only response you can give him is a whine as he stretches you out. It takes a second finger before he curls them into your prostate, vibrations increasing to an overwhelming amount. It really seems like Shindo wants to pull out your second orgasm without even fucking you.

His other hand, vibrating just as much, wraps around your limp cock and and begins to pump it. If it weren’t for Black Whip, you’d be squirming and pulling away. But all you can do now is whine and turn to Midoriya, pleading for him to make it stop. He doesn’t. The green haired hero won’t go against Shindo and you both know it. The most he can do is leave kisses along your neck and shoulders and tell you that you’re doing so well.

The abuse of your prostate and cock so soon after your first orgasm hurtles you into your next one. Cum spurts out of your cock pathetically, coating Shindo’s hand. He puts his hand in front of your face and you open your mouth without him needing to say anything. You clean his hand of your cum during your brief break.

“Who do you want first, hm?”

How mean of him to give you a trick question in this state.

“Want Yo...”

That’s the only answer. You’re given a devilish grin from the older hero before he lines himself up and sheathes his cock all the way in. You throw your head back and moan, mouth open in hopes that Midoriya will get the hint. He does and attaches himself to your lips, practically devouring your mouth. All your embarrassing moans are muffled.

Shindo’s slow as he thrusts into you. He’s enjoying how the two of you meld together into a needy mess. Your overwhelmed senses are calmed down by the mouth on yours and the way Midoriya hugs you against his chest so gently. The way he tries to pry your focus away from the cock filling you past your limit is more than appreciated. But Shindo will only allow it for so long.

“Y/N, look at me.” His voice is commanding and you feel his eyes piercing into you. “Be a good boy for me and look at me.”

Midoriya releases your mouth and turns your head forward. He holds the side of your head so you can’t look away. Shindo leans over your shoulder to give him a kiss of thanks.

The thrusts resume with four hands roaming your body. The hero in front of you doesn’t go fast, but he does go deep. Slow, rhythmic and deep thrusts into you make you want to curl into yourself. You do your best to keep your eyes on Shindo. He’s hushing you gently, peppering your face with kisses as you do what he asks.

“Such a good boy.”

“So proud of you.”

“Just like that, Y/N.”

“Keep looking at me, baby.”

It feels like it goes on forever and it probably does. Both of your partners have far more stamina than you do. They could go on forever if they really wanted to.

By the time Shindo’s getting close, your cock has finally sprung back to life. It leaks precum and bounces against your stomach with each thrust. Midoriya’s hands are dangerously close to it, tracing the skin around it. He knows not to touch it unless he’s allowed to.

They must have shared some sort of look because Midoriya’s hands finally reach down. One hand wraps around your cock and the other cups your balls, rolling them in his palm gently. You whine and throw your head back onto his shoulder, hands clenching. Even if you’re hard, a third orgasm is too much. But the two of them want to draw out one more. Just one more.

When a palm comes to focus on the head of your cock and tease it, you tense up. You cum for hopefully the last time. With the way your ass clenches around his cock, Shindo cums deep inside you. He leans in to catch your lips, groaning against them as he rides his climax to the end.

You let out a small whine when he pulls out. There’s another look because Black Whip dissipates and you collapse onto the bed. Your head’s hazy and you don’t think much of it when Shindo pulls you forward and flips you onto your back.

“Izuku’s still so hard. You won’t let him suffer like that anymore, will you?”

Midoriya eagerly sinks himself into your heat without letting you respond. His grip on your hips is tight as he earnestly pounds into you. It’s beginning to hurt and you try to push away. Shindo doesn’t let you, grabbing your hands and holding them above your head.

It’s not surprising when the younger hero cums within a few minutes. How long had he been waiting for this? You don’t know. All you know is that it’s warm inside you and you actually find yourself missing the sensation of Midoriya filling you once he pulls out.

“Wanna take a bath, baby? We’ll take care of you.”

With a small hum, you nod and nuzzle into Shindo’s body. You’re tired and a bath sounds perfect. You practically crawl into his arms and latch onto him so he can carry you. The rumble in his chest you feel as he chuckles relaxes you. You can already hear the bath water running.

#deku x reader x shindo #midoriya izuku x reader x shindo yo #bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #bnha x reader smut

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amayaonly1 · 3 years ago

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A Lil’ Oopsie - Lesson 6 (Obey Me x Female!MC/Reader)

@strawberry-moonpies It's already the 25th here in my home country, so Merry Christmas! 🎄 Wishing you many blessings and good health for the years ahead. I hope this chapter could bring a little bit more joy to your day.

Other work: Diavolo's Cousin from Hell

A Lil' Oopsie mini-series:

The food was gone, dirty plates and cutleries were washed, the dining hall was cleaned up, but Mammon's irritation had yet to subside. It was made even more obvious when he crossed his arms and paced back and forth outside of a room. He was aware of how he looked right now; like some kind of puppy desperately waiting outside its owner's room. Literally speaking, though, he was waiting for his master.

Asmodeus once again was in charge of bathing the toddler. Only this time, instead of Satan, Mammon volunteered - or rather, he'd actively insisted during last night's discussion - to be the one to look after MC for the night. It's been a while since he last hung out with MC, even before the toddlerisation. She'd been so busy teaming up with Satan and Solomon for their assignments that he almost barely saw her except during meals. So it is expected for the Avatar of Greed to fall into his own sin, for he desired to more time spend her than any of his own brothers.

Even if it meant barging into his brother's room after waiting for a long while.

"Oi, Asmo!" he called. "Are you done? You're takin' forever to bathe her."

The said demon was sitting on the floor with his back facing him. On his left side was a discarded damped towel, and on his right was a small container filled with skincare products. Clicking his tongue, he glanced at his elder brother over his shoulder, giving him a clear look of annoyance.

"Since when did I permit you to enter my room without my permission?" he chided. "I'm almost done. Let me finish applying some moisturiser on her."

"Huh?!" Mammon let out a sound of disbelief. "Since when did kids ever need 'em?"

"Might as well start early before it's too late. Now if you'll excuse us." As he turned back to the babbling toddler, Asmodeus's smile immediately flipped before he cooed, "Don't mind him, MC. That's Mammon being his scummy self. Rude and condescending, I might add."

"Hey!"

But the Avatar of Lust paid no heed to him. With one hand holding a small spatula that had some remaining cream left, he used the ring finger of his other hand to wipe them all off which he then gently dabbed on the toddler's round cheeks.

"Oh, your skin is going to be even more supple and smooth by the time I'm done~ I hope your skin would be just as smooth when you change back to your normal self. And..." After gently tapping the remaining smears on her face, he chirped, "We're done!"

"Finally!"

Before Asmodeus even realised it, the second-born was already beside them swooping down to carry the toddler, now adorning a fluffy brown bear onesie with round ears on the hoodie and a small soft round tail at the bottom. Carrying her firmly on his hip, he rushed out of the room as his brother's complaints went in one ear and out the other, shutting the door behind him. Without taking a breather, he went straight to his room where he locked the door after entering.

As soon as she was placed on the mattress, MC's attention was immediately shifted to the foreign surrounding. Her gaze shifted from the snooker table to the messy sofa, then to the painting on the wall on the left of the large bed. That was when she felt the bed dip, prompting her to direct her to turn her head in its direction, seeing Mammon sitting next to her now dressed down to a simple white tank top and grey sweatpants. In his hand was a stuffed crow with a pair of black beady eyes, grey beak and claws.

"Here ya go," he said, handing the plushie to her.

MC's eyes lit up as she slowly brought the toy close to her, feeling its softness with her hands before she hugged it, seeming to test it out. Placing the toy aside, the toddler got on her knees to scoot over and threw herself on him, with her small arms trying their best to wrap around his torso.

"Hey!" The flustered demon slightly jolted at the sudden action. "Be careful! If ya not careful, you might actually fall off."

But that didn't matter to the little girl. For she lifted her head to look at him in the eyes and a big toothy smile crept across her face. "Thank you, Mammo'!" she babbled.

"You givin' my nicknames now?" he remarked playfully. Giving her a pat on the head, he muttered, "You're welcome."

It was silent between them; a comfortable one, though. Mammon thought his room was the messiest among them seven brothers, but strangely, he noticed MC bobbing her head trying to stay sitting upright. Well, that didn't take long for her to get sleepy. From what Satan told him, the blond demon had to read a bedtime story to her before she could finally get some shut-eye.

Mammon removed his hand from her head and shifted, gently urging her to lay on the bed. "C'mon," he cooed. "You need to get some sleep. It ain't gonna be comfortable if you sleep upright."

"Mhm..." responded MC softly, nodding while she rubbed her tired eyes with the back of her hands.

He figured she'd do as she was told if he himself laid on the bed. So he did that, and true enough, MC followed suit. He lifted the maroon blankets and covered themselves. With one arm out, Mammon gently pulled the sleepy toddler closer to him, until he hugged her and rolled over to face up, letting her lay on him with her head on his chest with the crow plush in her grasp. The demon kept the same hand on her back while the other hand was underneath his head, trapped by the pillow underneath. It seemed like a bizarre sleeping position, but he found it surprisingly comfortable. As both hands were occupied, he channeled just a bit of his energy, which he then manifested to dim the lights until his room was nothing but pitch dark.

"Goodnight, MC."

All he received were quiet snores. Although, it didn't long for him to soon feel sleepy. He shut his eyes, letting his mind drift away as he gradually dozed off.

...a...on...

*Snrrrk* *snoooork*

M...mon...

*Zzz...*

Ma...mon...

"Five... minutes..."

"Mammon, get up this instant before I confiscate your credit card again."

All of a sudden, sleep instantly vanished from the said demon. His eyes shot open, and he tossed his blanket aside as if it had caught on fire, clumsily getting off his bed while detangling his legs from the large material. "I'm up! I'm up! I'm up!" He halted in his tracks. Where was MC? Did she fall off when he forced himself up?

He soon got his answer when he saw the said toddler still snoozing in Lucifer's hold. Come to think of it, how was his brother able to enter his room when he'd remembered locking it the previous night?

"Get ready," was the first thing the eldest said. "Diavolo sent me a message last minute that he'd drop by to check up on MC."

"Huh?" Mammon was confused. "Why'd he decide on that?"

"Yesterday I'd informed him of the incident that led up to this," he began, nodding his head to gesture at the toddler. "While I did expect him to be fully aware and would pardon MC from classes, I certainly didn't foresee him wanting to meet her in this state." Lucifer heaved an exasperated sigh. "Save the questions for later. Even I do not have the answers to his peculiar request. I'll help MC get dressed. You go wake the others up."

"Hold on," called Mammon. "Since when did we agree that she'll get dressed by you?"

"As pertained to the agreement, you were assigned to get MC ready for bed, and right after your slot would be mine. You've had your fair share of time spent with her. So cease your complaints and do as instructed, before I decide to feed you to Cerberus instead."

A smile as wide as that of a Cheshire cat spread across the white-haired demon's face. Standing straight, he raised a hand and held it over his head in a salute. "Yes, sir! Leave it to the Great Mammon!"

#obey me #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me fanfiction

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imaginesupply · 4 years ago

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You have my permission - Tom Hiddleston smut (sub!Tom)

Summary : Tom throws a tantrum and his mistress gives him more than he bargained for.

Warnings: Sub!Tom, switch!Tom, oral (f receiving), PIV, body fluids and aftercare.

Words: 4.4k

Smut after the cut.

She strolled inside the bedroom behind Tom, her fingers dexterously removing the heavy earrings that were weighing down her earlobes painfully. Setting them down on the dresser with a relieved sigh, she turned to Tom whose back to her as he crouched down and took off his shoes. What a nice ass, she mused with a grin.

"A bath or a movie, which do you fancy?" She asked, offering him the choice. Tom had seemed off at dinner, not his usual cheerful self and she was concerned. Yet, truth be told, she was tired and though a bath was relaxing perspective, she doubted she'd have the energy to leave the tub once the water lost its warmth, but those were two activities she knew Tom enjoyed particularly and she wanted to treat her good boy to a pleasant evening.

"I don't care."

She stopped in her tracks even as she opened the drawer for a fresh nightdress, a frown taking over her face. "What was that?"

"I don't care." Tom repeated more forcefully.

She had heard him right the first time, then. Hiding her surprise well, she cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'll remind you, darling, that's not how you speak to me."

Tom was barefoot now but standing up to his full height by the bed, an expression on his face that she wasn't acquainted with. "Or what?" He sneered with sarcasm, so far from the sweet boy she knew.

With an eye roll, she dropped the night dress on the bed. Tom had already broken so many rules within the past minute, but she was feeling clement. After all, unlike him, she had enjoyed herself immensely at dinner.

"What is it, Thomas? Why are you being so fussy tonight?" She sighed with resignation. As much as his attitude was grating on her nerves, she needed to know that he was alright. "Come on, sit down," she ordered gently, patting the mattress next to her.

"No!"

"No?" She was giving him one last chance.

To her surprise, Tom groaned, his hands tightening into fists for a moment before loosening again. "No, I will not sit down just because you told me to, not after..."

Her patience with him was thinning down to a hair width. This was not how she had envisioned their evening, but she would spend the night punishing him if she had to.

"Either you tell me exactly what's going on, Thomas, or you'll spend the next couple of days with a painful bottom," she promised, crossing her arms over her chest and just barely resisting tapping her foot on the floor.

His face changed at once. Tom knew those weren't idle threats. He winced, remembering the last time she had uttered those words. Still, he couldn't shake off the fury that gnawed at him from the inside.

"I did not like our waiter tonight, nor the way you behaved with him." Tom finally confessed though his voice remained petulant.

She was unable to hold back a scoff. Was her good boy acting out because he was jealous? "Really? I thought he was very efficient, and I treated him the same respect I do all other people."

Tom's eyes widened at her statement and suddenly all she could see was their light, vibrant blue. “He spent the entire evening with his eyes glued onto your cleavage! He touched your hand when he filled your glass! And you didn't even say anything, you just let him do it!" He spat accusatorily.

A tantrum, then, she concluded, leaning back against the wall with an amused smirk as she sized him up. Thomas has misbehaved in the past - some small misdemeanours here or there that had warranted a proportionate disciplinary response from her - but this was on an entirely different level. For some reason, punishment didn't seem like the appropriate response this time around.

"Very well, Tom. You've made your case and I’ve listened." She saw it in his eyes, relief washing over the sizzling emotion that she now recognised as jealousy. "What is your solution?"

Tom didn't manage to hide his reaction at her words. He felt put on the spot, her taunting stare intimidating him more than any handcuffs or collar ever could, and without the comfort that came with them. The usually eloquent man stuttered. "I don't know, mistress," he admitted, all sudden burst of courage gone but the look on her face let him know she wasn’t satisfied with the answer. "I just need to know you're as much mine as I'm yours, mistress."

He was back to being her good boy, it appeared, puppy eyes begging to be forgiven for his previous outburst. She licked her lower lip, anticipating the fun that was to come, before nodding as she tilted her head. This was a great occasion for a lesson, she decided. "Let me be yours, then. You have my permission."

Tom blinked once, then twice. Stunned didn’t begin to cover it. Was she really...? No, it couldn't be. "I'm quite not sure I understand, mistress."

She cocked her brow at his reaction. Oh, this was going to be so much better than a movie or a soak. Lightly waving her hand at herself, she made it crystal clear to him.

"I'm yours tonight, to do as you please." Thomas gulped at her offer - no - her command, feeling his Adam's apple tightening just like his trousers. "Claim me, mark me, ravish me. Whatever you want - I can take it.” She paused, letting the words sink in. “Isn't that what you wanted, darling?" She goaded him.

Tom was taken aback, so much so, he didn’t know what to say, let alone what to do. He’d never been in this position before. With other women, sure. But her? His mistress? His only mistress? He wouldn’t lie and pretend the thought had never crossed his mind, but it was never more than some delirious fantasies that taunted him when she kept him teetering on the edge for hours on end and his sanity became scarce. Tom tried to recall what he did to all the women before her, how he had his way with them before… before his mistress helped him discover who he was and what he truly needed.

He gazed upon her again, taking in the way she was waiting for him to do something, head cocked expectantly, exposing the slender column of her neck, the upward tilt op her lip never quite turning into a smirk yet not straying far from it. She was taunting him, testing him. Tom that even if he seized control now, it would be at her demand. No matter what he did, she’d still have the upper hand. She was not giving herself to him the way he gave herself to her. No, she was simply humouring him like a pet. And it made him want nothing more than to make her choke on her words.

I can take it, she’d said. He would be the judge of that, he vowed.

With two long strides, he crossed the room, stopping only he had crowded her against the navy wall. Even with the black high heels she fancied, Tom towered over her. His fingers went to her chin, tilting her face upwards and forcing her to look into his eyes before he leant down and kissed her ferociously. He let his tongue invade her mouth, the back of her head hitting the wall behind her as their teeth clicked together. And then he hesitated, a small pause in his moves as if he waited once again for her permission. Instead, she smiled against his lips, encouraging him silently and then gasped in mouth under the reprised assault, surprising both of them with the sweet sound.

Tom broke off the kiss, tracing his lips along her jawline before settling on the soft spot beneath her earlobe. She flinched against him when he started sucking on her skin, stopping only to alternate with nibbles. To his surprise, she didn’t protest. In lieu of that, she was oddly compliant under his touch even as the guilty feeling that he was doing something naughty and forbidden invaded him. Would she punish him later? Shaking off these thoughts, he thrust up his hips, pressing the outline of his throbbing erection against her lower stomach. Her shaky, shallow breaths were driving him mad.

He had perhaps expected that she would rock her hips against him, rub herself on him like a cat in heat. Tom should have known better than to predict her reactions. She slid her hand between their bodies, cupping his balls and the base of his erection, adding yet another layer between his cock and the sweet cunt he so desired. His lips went slack against her neck. She knew just how much pressure to apply, knew what drove him wild better than he himself did. After all, she was his mistress. She also knew he hadn’t been granted permission to cum for the past three days.

His hand fisted her hair tightly, pulling on it and giving her no choice but to look up at him. She was beautiful like this; he had never seen her from this angle. Like a black rose, it was beautiful to look at, but unnatural. She then had the audacity to grin, her hand never stopping its languid caress, not even when he tilted her head so back far, she was looking up at the ceiling. The position exposed all her elegant neck to him. Tom could spot the frantic pulsing of her artery just next to the hickey he had sucked onto her skin. He should cover her in hickeys, he decided; her neck, of course, but also her collarbones, her breasts, the dips on her hips and the skin on her inner thighs that was softer than velvet and silk combined.

An opportunist, she had used his short distraction to loosen up his belt just enough to slither her small hand inside his trousers and boxers. He gasped at her touch, warm breath puffing against her skin before he seized her wandering hand without a warning, pinning it on the wall above her head.

Tom glared down at her, nostrils flared and eyes dark; a silent warning. She wasn’t used to submitting, he wasn’t even sure she had done it before. He half expected her to call out their safe word, to say ‘opium’ and have him stop it all. He halted, giving her the chance do so, even as he desired nothing more than to throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress. He had the strength for it, he could overpower her easily anytime, but his limbs didn’t obey. It felt forbidden, even with her permission.

She chuckled devilishly as if his grip on her hair didn’t cause her any pain even when she did so. “That’s it, big boy? Where did all that fury of yours go?” She was egging him on again. And for a moment, he was able to picture it in his mind. The large, burning imprint of his hand on her ass, the smudged mascara underneath her eyes as he made her choke on his cock. “Cat got your tongue and your brain?”

That did it. “Shut up,” Tom ordered at the same time as he pulled her off the wall, steering her to the bed with his grip on her head before forcefully throwing her down on the mattress face first. Spotting the zipper running along the back of elegant silk dress, he gave the garment a chance but ended up ripping it open at the seams when it got stuck. His patience was running out. “Scoot over. I want you right in the centre.”

She did as he asked without a single word. Moving to the middle of the mattress, she left behind her torn dress and lied down on her back, showing off her lingerie. It was black and lacy, and intricate. He wanted to destroy it the same way you felt driven to pluck the prettiest flower. She propped herself up on her elbows, spreading her legs and showing him her pretty little cunt through the crotchless panties as Tom took his time taking off his clothes at the end of the bed.

“You’re such a wanton vixen,” he told her. His fear that he was perhaps taking it too far was stilled when he watched her fingers graze over her clit. “Don’t touch what’s mine.” She obeyed, though she sported a Cheshire cat grin. It would be gone soon.

Tom crawled his way over her body, his broader shoulders caging her in, a growl escaping his throat as his pulsing cock slid along the warm skin of her thigh, leaving behind a trail of precum. He brought his face to hers and she parted her lips, expecting a kiss. He bit down on her neck instead, not strongly enough to draw blood but enough for it to sting. And sting it did, her back arching up like a tense bow.

Freeing one hand, he opened the front of her bra with no struggle. The lace fell apart, revealing her ample breasts to his eyes. Tom inhaled sharply at the sight of her pebbled nipples before sliding lower and seizing one between his teeth, nibbling on the sensitive nub mercilessly. Her lips canted up against his as she moaned, head thrown back against the pillow. She was enjoying it, her hand clutching his curls firmly, but not pulling him off. In fact, he decided, she was enjoying this way too much.

Tom let go of her breast, grinning at the offended look she shot him. She wasn’t used to being denied her pleasure. A bit hypocritical, he sniggered. He was determined to make her regret all those times she had tied him to the headboard, the hours she had spent teasing him, edging him, leaving him wanting, the bloody cock cage she had made him wear for a week after disobeying her. “As much as I love your pretty face, I have other plans for you tonight.” He groaned, and then without giving her time for the words to sink in, he spun her around on her belly.

She tried raising herself up on her elbows, but Tom didn’t let her, applying enough pressure between her shoulder blades to get the message across. Still, somehow, she managed to turn her head sideways, mouth parted as she struggled for air. “You’ll pay for this, darling,” she promised all too confidently but didn’t utter the safe word. He spanked her ass.

“Let us first see if you’re still able to do anything after this,” Tom teased as he forced his knees between her legs, prying them open and putting her tempting cunt on display. She smelled ripe.

Holding himself up on one hand next to her head, he moved to cover her body with his, casting a shadow all around her frame. With his free hand, Tom gripped his cock. He was still hard. Not that it was a surprise: when was he ever not hard in her presence?

Tom stroked his iron shaft twice before moving his long fingers to her core. Her probed at her warm, delicate folds. She was wet, though not soaked the way she only got after he’d spent ages worshipping her pussy. He guided himself to her entrance, making her feel his glans pressing against her opening.

This would hurt sweetly without more foreplay – she was a small, little thing and him the opposite. And yet, she didn’t even flinch, her eyes didn’t waver, quite the contrary. She was daring him to do it, looking back at him over her shoulder with curled lips. Tom had never been allowed inside her without her explicit permission – often after pitiful begging on his part. Gauging her reaction, he pointed his cock at her tiny puckered hole instead. Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply, preparing herself for the painful intrusion. Still no safe word. She was tough to crack, Tom realised, not unimpressed before aligning himself with her pussy again. He didn’t dare take her last virgin hole with no preparation, desecrate his mistress like that.

His arm shook as he held up his weight. One thrust, that’s all it would take. He’d fuck her the way he had imagined himself doing countless times before, when his love for her blurred at the border between hatred and love, enmity and devotion, when she deemed his begging not sincere enough or made him plead even for an orgasm by his own hand like a dutiful puppet.

He wanted nothing more than to have his cock engulfed by her warmth. His cock begged him for it. She was waiting for him to thrust in, propping up her ass invitingly, the slope of her back acute. She was beautiful, face up or face down. She was everything Tom had ever desired in a woman. And yet, to him, she looked wrong in this position. He groaned in frustration, sweaty curls clinging to his forehead as his arm kept shaking. This was not how she was meant to be taken, to be pleasured. Just like you wouldn’t drink champagne from a dirty, plastic goblet, Tom couldn’t bring himself to fuck her like this, like an animal.

Letting out the most frustrated of growls, he seized her shoulder, turning her around without a warning before letting himself fall down on the mattress next to her. “I can’t do it,” he confessed, voice cracking.

Tom saw in the way her lips suddenly smirked and her eyes twinkled, finally understanding why she had never seemed apprehensive. His mistress had known all along he wouldn't be able to go through with it, even if he himself thought he could. She had called him on his bluff and won.

"Of course, you could not do it, darling," she cooed, sitting up next to him. "Do you want to know why?" Her fingers traced the line of his jaw almost condescendingly.

Tom swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as he stared up at her. His previous boldness had left without leaving a trace. "Please, mistress."

She smiled again even as she slid a leg over his chest, enclosing him between the warmth of her thighs. And then, leaning down, she whispered into his ear as if sharing a great secret. "Because, my sweet boy, it’s not in your nature to take by force. You want to please me and earn what I give to you.” She murmured seductively. “Am I wrong?"

Tom shook his head almost at once, the need to please her surging in him at her words. She was never wrong, not when it came to him. And when she moved up to sit on his face, all he could do was mouth a breathless thank you for being allowed to touch her even after his misbehaving before his need to be her good boy drove him to her cunt.

She kept one hand wrapped tightly in his curls, the other one holding onto to the headboard to keep steady. Her sweet Tom was indeed very talented with his tongue, she barely had to guide him at all but that still didn't mean she'd let go of her tight grip anytime soon. "Such a good boy," she praised him, more breathless than she liked to admit. "Licking your mistress's cunt so well." Tom whimpered against her clit; praise always got him needy and she enjoyed his desperate sounds almost as much as she did his tongue.

Close to orgasm, she decided to reward him for his eager work. Her hand left the headboard, searching for his to place it on her breast. She moved her eyes, finding that his hand was no longer clutching the bed sheets in desperate need like it had been seconds ago.

Craning her neck backwards to look over shoulders even as the first pleasures started sparkling and erupting from her clit, she spotted his hand snaking along his side to his weeping cock which had already formed a small, sticky puddle on his navel.

She managed to seize his disobedient hand just before she came, twisting and squeezing it painfully in her fist even as she rocked against his face through the waves of her orgasm, with no regard to his breathing.

With one last deep breath even as Tom still lapped at her juices, she moved away from his mouth and went to straddle his chest, covering him in her slick. He was panting, eyes closed with a furrow between his brows even as she felt him thrust up his hips into thin air, seeking an inexistent friction. What a sweet, needy boy, too bad he couldn't control himself.

Before she could even say anything, Tom apologised the moment his eyes blinked open. "I'm sorry, mistress," he exhaled.

She rubbed his bruising knuckles with her thumb, etching a look of concern on her face and she saw the way his expression visibly relax at her soft smile. God, she loved toying with him, especially when he misbehaved. "You'll make up for your disobedience with your big cock, won't you, darling?" She cooed.

The thought of finally sinking his cock inside had him nodding eagerly at her, sweaty curls bouncing like a halo around his angelic face. "Yes, mistress. Anything you want."

Oh, she wanted this alright, she mused as she reached out her hand to gently cup his cheek, a smile ghosting on her lips. She scooted over, moving backwards to straddle his hips. His cock was the prettiest shade of pink and the hardest kind of iron.

With a finger she lightly traced the vein running along the underside of his shaft, noticing how he moaned even as he fought the urge to rock up against her touch. It was adorable, the way he was trying to be good now that she’d chastised him. She decided not to tell him it was too late for any of that now.

Instead, she slid her wet cunt along his shaft, the frown of desperate concentration on his eyes more than making up for the slight discomfort on her sensitive folds. How long since she had last let him cum, she wondered, knowing this was going to be torture for him. The loud gasp that escaped his throat when she wrapped her hand firmly around the base of his cock only served as further proof.

Tom's eyes were bright and wide, unable to focus on a particular image as his mistress lowered herself on his desperate cock; the sight of himself disappearing inside her tight channel, the bouncing of her breasts as she moved languorously and languidly, or perhaps, those five seconds of deep intake of air during which her eyes closed and her face lost that regal composure of hers before she got used to the stretch.

"How does that feel, darling?" She asked him with the smile of someone who already knew the answer, in rhythm with her riding of him. She never moved with short, clear-cut thrusts, her hips smoothly undulating instead in a way that had him helpless and feeling the tightening in his gut surging way too soon.

"Very good, mistress," he managed to reply though it came out strangled, his muscles have begun tensing and his fingers itching to touch his mistress. Tom knew better this time.

She seemed satisfied with his response, picking up a faster pace above him. Watching Tom's face contort with bliss brought her just as much pleasure as the rutting of his cock. Tendons straining against his throat, eyes tightly shut and anguished whimpers escaping his parted lips. She anticipated his pleas the moment Tom opened his eyes like a wild animal blinded by the lights. "I need to cum. Please, mistress," he begged, knuckles turning white around the crumpled bedsheets. "Please let me cum."

Her hand moved to his throat, finger pads digging softly into his skin for balance. He loved her hand there, it was a reassurance and a threat all at once and he keened under her touch. She shook her head softly. "No."

The single word startled him as much as her increased pace. He was too close, he wouldn't be able to- "Please, mistress," Tom whined and blabbered, tears welling at the corners of his eyes before running down his sharp cheeks as he fought his release until his muscles trembled.

Still, she took no mercy, shushing him with a finger on his lips. As her orgasm crept closer at a dizzying pace, the look of focus and torment on his sweet, angelic face became almost too much to bear. He was trying so hard to be her good boy, it was beyond adorable.

So, when she tightened around him like a vice as bliss took over her mind and Tom let out the loudest strangled moan, she knew he was bound to fail her command no matter his determination and finally took pity on his anguish. "Cum for me, darling."

Tom tried to thank her for the privilege of filling her with his cum but his control burst at her permission before he was able to say anything intelligible. Instead, he cried out as he came in her, spurt after spurt.

Still coming down from her own high, she climbed off of Tom and then sat down next to him, moving his head to rest on her thigh. She decided to reserve his punishment for tomorrow, noticing his need for aftercare. She'd learned to expect his vulnerability after an orgasm, his longing to be held tightly and true enough, he moved to his side and hugged her waist. "You're okay, darling?" She asked, or rather, cooed.

Tom nuzzled into her thigh, a soft smile on his thin lips. "Yes, mistress, thank you," he mumbled against her skin and then she heard the slight shift in his voice. "I am sorry, for earlier..."

She smiled down at him, brushing his sweaty curls off of his forehead. "I know, sweetie."

It was a struggle then to get him out of bed and into the bathroom, with him holding on to her for dear life. But a small order from her and Tom complied, following her into the shower where she had him kneeling on the floor before her with his face pressed to her sternum as she washed his hair. Her sweet boy wouldn’t like what tomorrow held for him.

#tom hiddleston smut #sub!tom #tom hiddleston x reader

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marril96 · 4 years ago

Text

Once Upon a Time

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: An encounter with a homicidal witch forces Rowena to confront painful memories.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

Getting roped into helping Sam and Dean out with a yet another case wasn't how you'd planned to spend your afternoon, but it wasn't as if you were in a position to say no. Rowena, ever the helpful puppy (she resented the remark), said yes before Sam had even finished the question. She was prepared for a job as soon as her phone rang with his name flashing on the screen. So, as her girlfriend, you went with.

In all fairness, Rowena told you you didn't have to go. It seemed like a simple enough job; a witch case, if hex bags left by the victims' bodies were anything to go by. She could handle it without an issue. But you insisted on accompanying her. After all, the two of you had a deal — if one was headed into a possibly dangerous situation, the other was to go with as backup. No ifs. No buts.

The Winchester were well aware the two of you were a package deal. It wasn't an issue. In fact, they welcomed all the help they could get. Even if you had to force yourself into providing it.

The truth of the matter was, you hated hunting jobs. If it were up to you, you and Rowena would cut all contact with the brothers and their friends and live out the rest of your days holed up in your little home, leaving only on occasion for world-exploring vacations. It wasn't that you didn't trust your girlfriend; you did, sometimes more than you trusted yourself. You knew she could handle things on her own. She had, after all, done so for centuries, and would for many more to come. She was one of the most powerful witches around. If there was anyone who could wipe the floor with humans and monsters — even archangels — alike, it was her.

But the prophecy of Rowena's death at Sam's hands was still there. The two were friends (even if Rowena's pride opposed using the word), but accidents could still happen. Just because he didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to kill her, didn't mean he couldn't do it. You felt much safer being there with her than letting her out all on her own.

Sam was as good a man as a hunter could be. He treated Rowena well. He seemed to care about her as much as she cared about him. He was kind to her. Respected her. Valued her skills. Never talked down to her or mistreated her. Those days were behind them. Were it not for the prophecy, and, truth be told, for the fact that, as powerful as she was, Rowena always managed to get herself into trouble of some sort, you would have no issue staying behind.

So you put up with it. You bit your pride and helped out to the best of your ability. The sooner things were dealt with, the better; four helping hands were certainly better — faster — than two.

As far as cases went, this one was fairly easy. The witch was quite powerful, had done a good job at masking his presence, but it didn't take Rowena long to track him down. Latching onto a source of powerful magic was easy enough, and so was pinpointing its location. With her power unbound, there weren't many things that presented an issue.

This witch may have possessed great power, but he was no match for Rowena.

The house he was residing in was quite lovely. It was big, luxurious, built for power, for privilege, for envy of guests and passersby. It looked no different than the other houses in the neighborhood. This was a place of wealth, of power, and it showed.

As expected, the witch had protected his home well; it took Rowena half an hour to disable the wardings and magical booby traps he'd installed. Or the majority of them, at the very least. She warned you and the Winchesters to be careful. Sneaking into a witch's house was tricky business. Just because the coast looked clear didn't mean it was. For all you knew, the entire damn house was a giant trap.

Sneaking in was easy. Far too easy for this sort of monster. Which should have been a clue, a warning for you to be careful, but, instead, you let your mind wander to your home. Your warm, safe home. Where you would go soon, after all this was over, and you and Rowena would spend the evening cuddling in bed and teasing each other. Just a few more minutes, and you would be in the Impala, then at the bus station, and then at home. Sweet, sweet home.

Were you not absent-minded, maybe you would have noticed the witch's approaching footsteps, light as a ghost's. Maybe you would have noticed him sneaking up on Sam and Dean and hissing out a spell to throw them against the wall and incapacitate them. Maybe you would have noticed his hands reaching for you before finding yourself tangled up in his arms that held you against him in a firm, snake-like grip.

He was tall. Not quite as tall as Sam, but close enough. His body was lean, all muscle, thick and strong. He smelled like a strange mixture of spices — or rather herbs — and cologne; witch and man in one. Before you could utter a spell, his hand was over your mouth, fingers digging into your skin, manicured nails biting crescents.

"Don't even think about it, Rowena," he said as Rowena mouthed a spell, English accent deep in his voice. Posh, almost charming — almost, for every word of his oozed malice, cruelty. He sounded pleasant, but there was a note of something dark, something dangerous hiding behind it, creeping underneath the surface like a prowler. "I don't need incantations to get my magic working. I just have to think it, and…" Following his will, a painting slid from a wall. Fell down into a heap of splintered wood and glass. He chuckled, smug, too pleased with himself for his own good. "I'm not an animal."

Good for you, you thought, wishing so bad you could say it straight to his face. You get a fucking gold star.

Rowena swallowed. Held her head up like the queen that she was, proud, powerful. Not losing her cool for a single beat. "Let her go."

It was a command that left no room for argument, though you had no doubt the witch would try. Something told you the man had always been a rebel. Even when it worked against hs favor.

"What would be the fun in that?" His hold on you tightened. You groaned, uncomfortable, struggling to breathe. "I've got to say, you've changed quite a bit, Rowena."

Rowena swallowed. Sucked in a breath and put on that face you knew well — one of deception, of protection. A mask to shield herself from the world, from the danger that lurked around. From unpleasant memories she wished would stop plaguing her mind.

So she knew this witch. Why hadn't she said anything? Why had she kept/ it a secret?

"You remember me, don't you?" the witch said. You couldn't see his face, but you could picture a smirk as big as his pride adorning it. "It's been — what? Two hundred years? That's quite a while, but in sure you remember me somewhere in that clever little head of yours."

Rowena forced a smile. "Like you said, it's been a while."

"Really? I never forgot you."

Her eyes briefly connected with yours before falling to her feet. Color drained from her face, her usually rosy cheeks washed out, white as old, tattered sheets. Her fists clenched, knuckles taut, pale from the pressure.

The witch licked his lips, and your stomach turned with disgust. He said, "I remember you quite well. I admit, it was a bit hard to recognize you at first. You've gone through quite a change. What is it kids call it these days? A glow up. You've had a glow up."

Rowena avoided his eyes.

He continued, "Still, wasn't too hard to figure out it's you. See, I knew you were hunting me. I know all about you. Well, all about these two chuckle heads—" he gestured to Sam and Dean, who were glued to the floor, magic holding them down despite their resistance, "—but through my research on them I stumbled across you. You've done a good job at keeping a low profile. Gotta hand you that. But you've still got neighbors, and they love to talk."

Great. As if spreading rumors around wasn't enough; now your neighbors had snitched on you to an unhinged witch. Maybe a curse on the neighborhood was in order. There were a few you wanted to try out, if you managed to get out of this mess unscattered.

"I'm a bit disappointed, though," the witch said. "I mean, really — hunters? You're working with hunters? Seriously?" He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "And here I thought you were running from them. How the tides have turned." A beat, then, "At least your girlfriend's cute." His fingers tapped your cheek. "Does she know about us?"

You frowned, confused. What did he mean?

Rowena swallowed.

"She doesn't!" The witch all but beamed. "You didn't tell her? And you still brought her here? How could you, Rowena? Don't you think she deserves to know?"

You groaned, trying to get curses and insults out. Hating that you couldn't.

"I know, right?" he said condescendingly. "I'd be mad, too."

You weren't mad — not at Rowena, at least. Whatever it was that had happened between them, you were sure she had good reasons to keep it hidden. She was a flawed creature, bratty, dramatic, but she was a good girlfriend. She didn't lie to you. Would never do anything — not on purpose — to harm you or your relationship.

"What was it Catriona called you? Raggedy Ann?" The witch pretended to ponder on it. "Not so raggedy anymore, are you?"

Catriona Loughlin? He knew the Loughlins?

"I knew you were hot. She and her brothers laughed at me when I told them about us, but there's proof right here—" he pointed at Rowena; at her curls that fell down her shoulders like streams of silky fire; at her white blouse with one button undone, leaving just enough for a taste of naughty thoughts; at her dress pants and pumps, which teased imagination, let it run wild "—I was right. You are hot. When you take a bath."

Rowena flinched as if struck. Grit her teeth. Squeezed her fingers into fists so hard the skin of her knuckles turned white as the bone underneath it.

"Catriona told me I should've fucked a pig instead. Would've been cleaner." The witch shrugged. "Maybe so, but I didn't really mind the filth so much. It was disgusting, yes, but you more than made up for it. Y'know, I think you're one of the best I ever had. I can say that without shame now." He licked his lips. Closed his eyes for a moment, basking in the memory. "You were exquisite."

"Motherfucker!" you exclaimed — or tried to for it came out as a distorted mumble. You son of a bitch! I'm gonna kill you! If only you could say it. If only you could scream it, loud and clear, straight in his face as your magic gnawed at his skin, tore him apart from the inside, fueled by the rage that boiled with you. A rage that twisted and coiled and burned like a volcano nearing an eruption. That begged to be let free to swallow him, to obliterate him.

You pushed against his arms, tried to tear free. Tried to sink your teeth into the soft, meaty flesh of his palm. But no matter how hard you fought, he kept you in place with ease. His laugh, a mocking, taunting melody, rang in your ears.

"Easy, girl. No need to be jealous. It was a long time ago. But do tell, is she still excellent in bed?"

"Fuck you!" Another mumble.You hated it. Hated yourself for being so weak to fight him off, to free yourself from his deadly grip. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you, you sick, twisted mother—

"I'll take that as a yes."

Rowena swallowed a lump in her throat. Held her head up, brave face on. "You know what they say. Why fix something that isn't broken?"

"True," the witch agreed. "True. She's a lucky girl."

At least one thing he was right about. He had no idea how much; how lucky you were, how privileged, to be with Rowena.

"God, you were so great. So tiny, but so skilled. I thought you'd just do it to get it over with, but you enjoyed it as well. I saw it in your eyes. You were having so much fun."

She flashed that smile that feigned nonchalance and hid the turmoil, the utmost hurt coiling inside of her. "It's a shame you didn't put in nearly half the effort. It was an encounter for mutual benefit. I'd done my part. You…" She clicked her tongue. "There was plenty left to be desired."

The witch's hands stiffened around you. His heart jumped, the vein on his neck thudding loudly against your scalp. "Such a tease, aren't you?" he said in nonchalance you would have bought as genuine had you not felt his body's reaction to Rowena's comments. Everyone had a weakness. He might have pretended otherwise, but he wasn't invincible. Magic couldn't protect him from wounded pride.

"I'm serious, Janus," Rowena said, and meant it. No more pretend. No more lies. "I've had plenty of partners, and none have been as… inexperienced as you. Was I your first? You poor dear. I'd say it was an honour, but it truly wasn't."

Janus gulped down a lump that blossomed in his throat. "You're real funny." Rowena shrugged innocently. He looked down at you. "Is she always this funny?"

She's absolutely hilarious, you wanted to say. Instead, what came out was a gargle of words that didn't resemble your uttered "Fuck you" in the slightest, though you were pretty sure the look on your face have away exactly what you said.

"I do believe one thing," he said. "You've had plenty of lovers. Even back then you reeked of usage — along with general filth. You'd given birth, hadn't you? I could tell." He winked. "Trust me."

Rowena, bless her, took it in stride. "So you say."

"I'm not lying."

He was. You could feel it.

"Okay," Rowena said with a shrug.

He grit his teeth. "I'm serious."

"As am I."

"You're more confident than you used to be. That little ragdoll that showed up at my door was weak. Her favourite word was 'please.'" He smirked. "God, I loved that 'please.'"

"She's had centuries of growth," Rowena said. "You're right in that she was weak. She wasn't proficient at using her wits. But, as you've already established, she's changed. She's smarter now. Have you heard of a wee thing called distraction?"

"Wha—"

The word fell silent in Janus's mouth as a gunshot, loud, deafening, echoed. Blood gushed in a spray of crimson, staining your shoulder and cheek. His hold of you loosened and you instantly wriggled out, pushing him off. His body collapsed like a sack of potatoes, limp, motionless. Red seeped out of/out his temple, staining the fine, white carpet underneath him. Filling it up, making it swell with it. His eyes were wide open; they stared up, into the ceiling, into open space. Into Heaven and Hell themselves.

"You okay?" Sam asked, a gun clutched tightly in his hands.

"I-yes," you stammered. Your ears were ringing, but you weren't injured. You weren't harmed. You swallowed a large breath. "That was… intense."

"Good shot, Sammy," Dean said.

Sam nodded with an awkward smile. His eyes shifted to Rowena. "Are you okay?"

A flicker of pain crossed her face, but she quickly smoothened her expression into one of pride, of utmost dignity. "Never better."

The brothers bought it. You knew better, but decided to keep it to yourself. There would be time for talking later, when you were alone, and, preferably, away from a corpse.

"Are you sure you're okay, Y/N?" Rowena asked, and that was sincere. She looked you over in concern. A mother cat appraising her young, checking them for injuries.

"I'm fine." You squeezed her hand in emphasis. Her fingers tightened around yours, held tight. An unspoken promise that she was there, that, no matter how hard it was or how badly it hurt, you could count on her.

You appreciated it. You needed her. And, more important than that, she needed you. Parts of her past were a touchy subject; to have it dredged up in front of everyone so casually, used as a weapon against her… It had to hurt. She pretended it didn't, but you knew her better than that.

The brothers had taken care of the body in a matter of minutes, and it wasn't long before the four of you were on the road, heading straight for the Bunker. The ride was silent to an almost uncomfortable degree. Dean made a few quips here and there, annoying Sam. Finally, sensing the gloom in the air, he put on some music you weren't a fan of, but you still appreciated something to focus on. Something other than that horrid man's hands holding you in place as his wicked tongue tore into Rowena. It was the last thing you wanted to think about.

You laid your head on her lap for the reminder of the trip. Instinctively, she started caressing your cheek. Rubbing your shoulder. Running her fingers over your skin in invisible doodles. A little game you appreciated, you craved more than ever. I cherish you, every touch said. I love you. Your heart swelled with reciprocation.

Not many words were exchanged at the Bunker, either. The two of you wanted to head home, but the brothers convinced you to stay for the night. It was late, they said. You were both tired and needed rest. It was a hard fact to argue with, so you accepted.

The room they gave you was small and cosy. Nothing special in terms of decor, but good enough. Perfectly acceptable for a sleepover. It wouldn't be fair to complain; you were guests, after all. The brothers were doing you a favor.

You'd just gotten out of a shower, clad in one of Sam's old shirts that fell to your knees like a dress, when Rowena said, "I didn't enjoy it."

She was on the bed, in an oversized shirt herself, having had her shower right before.

"What?"

"Janus. I didn't—I didn't enjoy being with him. I had to."

"You don't have to ex—"

"You deserve to know the kind of woman you lay in bed with every night." Redness rimmed her eyes. She blinked the tears away, willed them back. "After the Loughlins threw me out, I went in search of a new hideout. The British Men of Letters were after me. I was weak and scared. I'd heard rumors of another powerful witch residing nearby, so I sought him out."

A nervous smile flickered over her mouth.

"At first, like the Loughlins, he wanted nothing to do with me. I wasn't the kind of witch he was interested in helping. But when I made him the same offer, he accepted."

"Rowena—"

She shook her head, cutting you off. "It was horrid, but I did what I had to do to survive."

You knew that. She'd done plenty of things to ensure her survival. Some horrible, others less so. What mattered was that she lived. You couldn't fault her for that.

"It only happened once," she said. "I was out of there as soon as I felt it was safe."

"You haven't done anything wrong." People did all kinds of things when they were desperate. Stupid things. Reckless things. Heartbreaking things. That didn't make them bad. It just made them human.

That was what Rowena was — human. Underneath all her protective walls and the magic coursing through her veins, she was still a woman. A human being that felt and hurt and bled just like anyone else.

A moment passed in silence. Then, "He's not the only one I did it with. There were others."

You'd figured as much. Three years ago when she'd first told you about the Loughlins, you suspected there was more to the story. That there were more times where she was desperate and scared and alone, and she had no other way to survive than to bargain her body. You never brought it up; it wasn't your place to ask about such intimate, painful details. It wasn't your business. The last thing you wanted was for her to think you were judging her.

"You have to understand, I wasn't always this powerful. Sometimes I just needed to survive, and I did."

"I know," you said firmly, with all the conviction you could muster. Your eyes found hers, locked with them. "I understand."

"You do?"

"Yeah." You settled next to her on the bed. Reached for her hand. "You didn't do anything wrong. They took advantage of you."

A good person would have helped her without asking for anything in return. A good person would have given her food and shelter, exchanged a few kind words with her, listened to her plight. Would have befriended her, protected her instead of taking what they wanted. What the circumstances had forced her to offer.

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be?" You knew she had a past. As far as things went, this wasn't the worst she'd done. Not even close. "I don't care what happened before. It's not like you cheated on me."

That prompted her to chuckle. "I suppose not."

You smiled. "You're my girl. I love you no matter what."

You loved her when she was nothing but a wicked witch who loved no one but herself. You loved her when she killed people, innocent and guilty alike. You loved her when she ruined and destroyed everything in her path. When she thought of you as nothing but an accessory, a poor, wee witch following her around like a puppy, desperate for her to teach her the ways of magic. You loved her when she changed, and when she suffered, and when she tossed and turned in the night as nightmares plagued her dreams.

You loved her through everything, and had taught her to love you back.

Her past couldn't change that.

Rowena's cheeks flushed with color. "What have I done to deserve you?"

"You're you." That was more than good enough for you.

A tear spilled down her cheek. "Bloody sap."

"Hey, you started it!" you teased.

She scoffed. You shrugged, nonchalant.

She squeezed your hand. After a moment of silence, she said, "I love you, as well."

"Who's the sap now?" She shot you a glare that had to have killed before, and you laughed. "You're so precious."

And you loved her for it. So much. Too much.

The past be damned.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @evil-regal-vampiress @hellbentredhead @angel-e-v-a @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock @fangirlxwritesx67 @theeasterbilby @midnight-lestrange @oster-hagen @impala-1979

#rowena #rowena macleod #rowena x reader #spn #supernatural #fanfiction #my fics

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mcgrillzdumpinc · 4 years ago

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In Which Nie Huaisang Does Not Know How to Drop It

Summary: Jin Guangyao intercepts one of Nie Huaisang's trade deals. Nie Huaisang won't rest until he gets his revenge. Jiang Cheng would very much like his husband to drop it.

Written for sangchengber day 4 - Crime AU!

Rating: M

Pairing: Sangcheng

Warnings: Talk of sex

ao3 link

“I’m going to kill Yao-ge!”

His husband’s voice echoes through their apartment and into the master bathroom. Until now, Jiang Cheng didn’t even know Nie Huaisang was home.

Sighing and removing the cucumber slices from his eyes, Jiang Cheng calls back, “Welcome home, A-Sang.”

“Hello my love! I’m home!” Nie Huaisang enters the master bath, still dressed to the nines. “Know any contract killers I can hire?”

Jiang Cheng sinks further into his bath. He’d been planning to take the day to himself, away from the family business. But crime doesn’t sleep and, apparently, neither does the weird friend-enemy relationship between Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao.

“What happened now?” Jiang Cheng asks as he starts to chew on the cucumber slices.

Nie Huaisang begins disrobing with a significant sigh. “You remember I was going to finalize that trade agreement with the Tang family? They’ll get top of the line ecstasy from the Nie and we’ll get access to their spy network?” Off goes Nie Huaisang’s top, revealing the intricate and lace-like tattoo that encircles his waist. “Well, take a guess at what Yao-ge did!”

Jiang Cheng watches in appreciation as Nie Huaisang removes his black thigh highs. “He killed your contact in the Tang family?”

Then goes the pleated skirt. “Worse! He intercepted the trade and took the deal for himself! Now the Jin will have everything my family was supposed to.” Finally, he removes his satin briefs, gloriously naked and unfairly sexy in front of Jiang Cheng.

“In that case, I don’t think killing him will fix anything,” Jiang Cheng counsels. As Nie Huaisang approaches the bath, Jiang Cheng leans over the bathtub rim, reaching out a hand to grab his husband’s ass.

“Not right now, A-Cheng,” Nie Huaisang says, grabbing Jiang Cheng’s hand to leave an apologetic kiss on the inside of his wrist. “I need to think.” Without bothering to remove his makeup, Nie Huaisang slips into the bath. Thankfully, their tub is more than large enough to accommodate the two of them.

“About killing Jin Guangyao or taking a more civilized route?”

“Would you be mad if I said both?”

“I’d be very annoyed. It’s hard enough making sure the Ouyang and Yao families stay loyal to only the Jiangs. If you start a war with the Jin, I’ll be up to my eyeballs with internal conflict.”

Nie Huaisang clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Fine. I’ll be nice this time.”

“Will you try to make a new trade agreement with the Tang? Or weasel your way into the one Jin Guangyao finalized?”

Nie Huaisang sinks into the bathwater, the bottom of his hair floating with the soap bubbles. “Probably see if I can convince Yao-ge to renegotiate. First I should figure out why he wanted my trade agreement. Then I’ll stick it to that bitch.”

Jiang Cheng smiles and slots himself between Nie Huaisang’s legs, hovering about his husband. “That’s the man I married,” he says, doing his best to sound seductive.

It must work, because Nie Huaisang tucks Jiang Cheng’s hair behind his ear before bringing him in for a searing kiss. “That’s enough thinking for today,” he whispers against Jiang Cheng’s lips.

Jiang Cheng smirks before making himself busy.

~~~

A week later, though, the situation isn’t resolved.

“Little bitch won’t even talk to me,” Nie Huaisang grumbles as he types on his phone. Jiang Cheng’s best guess is that he’s talking to a Jin contact, but he can’t be certain. “The second I mention the Tang deal, everyone clams up. San-ge won’t answer my calls, er-ge is leaving me on read, and now da-ge! My own da-ge! Calls me this morning to tell me to drop the situation. Like I’m going to do that when they’ve got me curious!”

Jiang Cheng would very much like to watch this movie with his husband but, well, he’s used to disappointment.

Pressing pause on Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Jiang Cheng sighs and leans back in the couch. “Want to talk about it?” he asks, putting on his best sarcastic tone.

“I’m sorry, puppy,” Nie Huaisang says without looking up from his phone. He reaches out his hand and Jiang Cheng places it on his knee so Nie Huaisang can rub it apologetically. “I can’t leave this.”

“No, I know.” Sighing again, Jiang Cheng rubs the bridge of his nose. He loves Nie Huaisang more than anything, but he won’t deny there are sides of him that Jiang Cheng can barely stand. His stubborn desire to solve any mystery, for example. Jiang Cheng will never forget what happened after he watched Inception with Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian when they were still in their teens. In what was his first glance into his future-husband’s intellect, he saw his then-friend lose himself in Reddit theories about the movie’s ending and pick apart all the possible meanings. That insatiable curiosity was insane then and it is insane now.

Jiang Cheng stands up and turns on the living room lights. Nie Huaisang is still sitting on the couch, buried deep into his phone, his share of the snacks untouched and forgotten. Restraining another sigh, Jiang Cheng decides then and there what he��ll have to do before his husband drives him mad. He won’t like it, not in the slightest, but he’s willing to make due for love.

~~~

Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, and Jin Guangyao share an apartment in midtown. Among the many swanky high-rise buildings and metro lines, the trio live in a quaint, three-storey building. It is the last place one would think to look for three of the most powerful names in the criminal underworld as well as just cute enough to appeal to Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao’s cottage core tastes.

Jiang Cheng presses the buzzer for their apartment – room 303. He knows there is a camera attached to the buzzer and that he didn’t bother wearing a disguise, so he is very surprised when he is allowed entry. As he climbs the stairs, he runs through scenarios in his head. He is wearing a bulletproof vest just in case, but he knows that winning the argument will ultimately come down to sincerity (or how well he can fake sincerity) and word-spinning (or how well he can mimic Nie Huaisang without betraying his pride).

When Jiang Cheng knocks on the door, he is greeted by Nie Mingjue wearing only baggy sweatpants with his long hair tied into a long braid. All arguments immediately leave Jiang Cheng’s head, because it is simply impossible for a mere mlm to not fall victim to the intrinsic sexiness of Nie Mingjue.

“Huaisang sent you?” Nie Mingjue grumbles, sounding so much like a deeper-voiced version of his younger brother.

“Um—no, I came here on my own,” Jiang Cheng stumbles to reply. “I wanted to talk to you. On my own.”

Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes and steps back from the door, allow Jiang Cheng to enter. “I’ll go get the other two.”

The other two arrive in short time. Lan Xichen, as always, is dressed impeccably and like he just walked out of a photoshoot for Vanity Fair. Jin Guangyao, meanwhile, is still in his pajamas, a mismatched set of yellow sweatshirt and light green pants, yet his make-up and hair are not a detail out of place.

“How can we help you, Wanyin?” Lan Xichen asks, serene smile in place as he fills a tea kettle with water.

“If it’s about the Tang deal, please tell Sang-di the answer is still no,” Jin Guangyao adds as he settles into the couch next to Nie Mingjue.

“You know he won’t drop it,” Jiang Cheng responds. When Lan Xichen asks him his preferred tea, he responds anything with chamomile, thank you.

“Neither will I,” Jin Guangyao retorts, smiling politely as Nie Mingjue throws an arm around his shoulders and pulls him against his side.

“I’ve lived with the brat for years,” Nie Mingjue argues, “he’ll drop it in a few weeks.”

“He’ll be a bitch about it for an extra month, though,” Jin Guangyao snarks.

“A-Yao,” Nie Mingjue scolds.

“He’s right, da-ge. Sang-di is a bit of a bitch,” Lan Xichen says.

“I’m his husband and I have to agree,” Jiang Cheng adds.

Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes. “Fine. But you can use nicer language.”

“Here’s the thing, though,” Jiang Cheng starts as Lan Xichen pours hot water into four cups, “Nie Huaisang is a bitch and I love him so much, but this Tang deal is getting in the way of a happy marriage.”

“Suck his dick if you want him to pay attention to you,” Jin Guangyao immediately snarks.

“A-Yao!” Nie Mingjue nearly screeches.

“I have to agree with da-ge on this one, A-Yao. That was a bit far,” Lan Xichen says smoothly as he carries in the tea.

Jiang Cheng takes his cup first. “The problem is that I have! But then right after, it’s back to the Tang deal!”

“Please don’t talk about my didi’s sex life,” Nie Mingjue whines.

“Hm, he really sounds like a Nie alright,” Jin Guangyao says as he takes his cup of tea. “Thank you, Huan-ge,” he adds sweetly to Lan Xichen.

“Please don’t bring me into this argument!” Nie Mingjue cries as he hides his face in Jin Guangyao’s hair.

“Maybe he needs a new project?” Lan Xichen tries as he sets his and Nie Mingjue’s cups on the coffee table.

“I’ve tried getting him interested in some Jiang affairs,” Jiang Cheng says as he settles into a loveseat adjacent to the couch. “He won’t pay them any attention.”

“Jiang affairs are probably boring to him now,” Jin Guangyao advises. “He married into them, after all.”

“Perhaps ask Wei Wuxian? There’s always something interesting going on with him,” Lan Xichen says as he sits down next to Jiang Cheng, looking every bit like somebody’s hot and nice school counselor.

“I’ll, um, I’ll try that,” Jiang Cheng replies. He turns his eyes onto the door, hoping he’ll be able to finish this cup of tea before he’s somehow roped into this weird polycule.

~~~

Lan Xichen’s advice turns out to work. Wei Wuxian has somehow embedded himself in a tricky situation involving the Wen siblings versus the rest of their stupid family. Getting Nie Huaisang involved proves a quick fix to both Wei Wuxian’s bullshit and the Tang deal.

“So was this san-ge’s idea, too?” Nie Huaisang asks after a night of long-overdue sex.

“Xichen’s, actually,” Jiang Cheng replies, curling up around his husband. “But if you’re thinking about trying to weasel your way back into the Tang deal, I will leave you.”

“…Fine. I’ll leave it be,” Nie Huaisang mumbles as he slots himself against Jiang Cheng’s body.

“Good. I love you.”

Nie Huaisang laughs softly. “I love you, too.”

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #sangcheng #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #sangchengber #sangcheng month 2020

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digitalworldbound · 5 years ago

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miyako and hikari (platonic) for 133?

Number 133: “Slushies aren’t just for kids. Fuck society!”

Characters: Miyako & Hikari. Finally, one of my 02 babies! This is set while the girls are maybe around 15 and 16.

I wrote this in first person as Hikari, just to give it a more casual, carefree feel! I hope you enjoy these teenager-y, summer vibes. The ending kind of sucks, but please ignore it. (Minor swearing)

Send me a prompt!

As a certified teenager, it’s safe to assume that I love summer. Why wouldn’t I? It’s the time of the year when you can pretty much do whatever you like. Summer is the grand time where the months-long prep and countdown for family vacations actually come in fruition.

But there’s danger that lurks during summer. It’s the trap of monotony where sleeping late, waking up at noon, watching endless TV, and playing video games for hours become a routine. Well, not if you are friends with Miyako.

Despite chatting with friends into the wee hours of the morning, the girl is an early riser. She’s the “get up and go” type, only grabbing a banana for breakfast as she sprints out the front door. Afterall, an object in motion in stays in motion.

It was the first Saturday of summer vacation when she barged into my room, a flurry of purple hair and lipgloss. “Hika!” she screeched. Miyako was one of the only people that called me by a nickname, and never failed to abuse this privilege. “What are you still doing in bed? If you want to go scope out hot guys on the beach with me, you have to get up. We’re burning daylight!”

I didn’t even have to glance at the clock to know that it was inhumanly early. The coffee machine in the kitchen was silent, and the sound of my brother snoring permeated the apartment. Somehow, I managed to pull myself away from the warmth of a slept-in comforter, yawning all the while. Before my feet hit the floor, Miyako was rummaging through my wardrobe, clicking her tongue in disapproval at my large collection of borrowed basketball t-shirts. “Hmm, where do all these come from, I wonder?” she asked pointedly. She laughed airily, flashing me a wink.

“Ha, ha, Miya, very funny. You know me and him are just friends,” I offered, attempting to stretch the sleep out of my joints. She shook her head in disapproval, purple ponytail swinging behind her.

A note about Miyako: she fancies herself a matchmaker, and believed I was her perfect target.

For years, she has tried everything to pair me up with my best friend. A few summers ago, she locked us both in the hall closet, smushing us between the extra linens and a scratchy, wool blanket. Takeru and I are pretty close, so we weren’t particularly bothered by our close proximity. We might have been able to enjoy our time together had Miyako not forgotten about us. It wasn’t until my brother came home from soccer practice that someone heard our desperate pleas for freedom. Ever since then, she has stayed out of it.

With a hum of approval, she tossed a sundress in my direction. I barely had time to catch the flimsy, yellow fabric before she barked out another order. “Go to the bathroom and put that on, we need to hurry.”

Another note about Miyako: Never argue with her when she gets in one of her Moods.

My socked feet padded their way silently to the bathroom, pausing only to check the time displayed in the hall: 7:45 in the morning. Changing quickly, I slipped the sundress over last season’s bathing suit, adjusting the straps as the material settled around my hips. Miyako, being a full year older than me, had taken puberty gracefully, filling out gradually and evenly. My body, it seemed, had other plans. The hips seemed to be its first priority, leaving the top of my dress little to fill itself out.

I made my way back towards my room, careful to avoid any creaky floorboards. Miyako sat atop my bed, flicking through a stray magazine. She hadn’t noticed my arrival, and I took my few extra moments of silence to study her.

This past semester, she had shot up several inches, giving her legs the slender look of a model. Her cut-off shorts only emphasized this fact. Her Hawaiian-esque button down should have been tacky, but she left the buttons undone, showing off her camisole underneath. A bathing suit top poked out from underneath it, accentuated her new curves. Compared to her, I felt like a little girl playing dress up.

While I struggled to coax the tangles out of my horrendous bedhead, Miyako gave me the rundown of the day. “Okay, so I was thinking we hit up Starbucks first. They have some new fruity lemonade that I’ve been dying to try, and I’m also kind of hungry.” As if to punctuate her statement, my own stomach growled, and I grinned sheepishly up at her. “Make that two of us,” I laughed.

She rambled on about sunbathing and beach volleyball, the metallic jingle of her bracelets accentuating every point. Miyako talked with her hands, making gestures large and small as if it would help the listener understand her better. Spoiler alert: it never did, but it was fun to watch all the same.

My hair finally tamed, I applied some light concealer, desperate to rid myself of the dark circles clinging underneath my eyes. “You know,” her jingling stops, “You really don’t need any makeup, Hika.”

I only snort in response; taking compliments has never been my forte. Grabbing my purse and phone, I slipped on a pair of sandals. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Let’s rock and roll!”

As one could expect on the first weekend of summer vacation, Odaiba beach was cluttered with people. For mile it seemed the white sand was obscured by sunburnt bodies and an array of towels, but that was understandable.

The passing heat wave had been brutal. One could not go outside without sunscreen, lest risk getting sun poisoning. Within minutes, Miyako sucked her lemonade dry, settling on chewing the left-over ice. “Oh!” she squealed, bits of ice flinging about. “An empty spot, just over there!”

Years of running away from evil Digimon looked like practice as we narrowly dodged the ample bodies of beach-goers. Arms linked together; our feet kicked up sand behind us as we ran. Just as we were about to secure our small area, a blue beach towel obscured the white sand.

I was panting too hard to notice Miyako’s eyes light up or the stranger’s shadow obscure the sun’s rays.

“Hey, guys! What are you two doing here?” a familiar voice asked, humor lifting at the end of his question. My breathing stopped mid-pant, silently cursing whatever deity that would listen. Once my heartbeat was under control, I managed to stand up straight. Raising a singular eyebrow, I challenged our guest. “Well, Takeru, the last time I checked, this beach is open to the public.”

His blonde hair reflected the sunshine, a soft, golden glow haloing around him. As if I needed any more reason to fall in love with him. He laughed in good nature, smiling a boyish, toothy grin.

“You took our spot.” Miyako pointed out, arms crossed over her chest. Wrinkles formed between her brows, her effort to look more menacing. A pair of heart-shaped sunglasses shielded her hazel eyes, and I almost giggled at the thought of her trying to look domineering while wearing something so innocent.

“Who says we all can’t share?” he countered; blues eyes illuminated by mischief. Never one to back down from a challenge, Miyako stood her ground, “I don’t think so.”

Anxiety clenched at my stomach. As of late, being in a close proximity to Takeru made me nervous, especially when he was shirtless with little rivets of water trailing their way down his abs. He was no longer the cute little eight-year-old that sat with me by the campfire. Years of basketball practice had solidified his athletic figure, and two summers ago, his growth spurt had him towering over his own brother. Seeing him in nothing but a pair of swimming trunks did not help my flushed state.

“It’ll be fine, Miyako. We can just squish our towel beside his.” Rolling her eyes, she begrudgingly pulled out her Hello Kitty! themed towel, spreading it haphazardly on the ground. “Let’s just get in the water. That’s where all of the cute guys are, anyway.”

Takeru, for his part, pretended not to notice the hostility in her voice. He was as used to her moodiness as I was. Standing there awkwardly, he only made the move to leave as we began to strip down to our bikinis. “I should probably go find Ken and Daisuke. I’ll catch you both later,” he stammered, eyes intently focused on the granules of sand that had clung themselves to his hands.

Looking at each other, Miyako and I burst into a fit of giggles. She had a twinkle in her eyes as she wiggled her eyebrows in my direction. “No, absolutely not.” I deadpan, knowing exactly where this was about to go.

Her glossed bottom lip poked out, her attempt at a puppy-dog look. In my opinion, she looked more like a Kardashian, and when I told her exactly this, the lip was sucked right back in.

Though it was still pretty early, the sun was high in the sky. My cheeks were warm, and my shoulders had turned a light shade of pink. “We need to put some sunscreen on before we fry.”

“Nah, I’m good. I need to work on my tan anyway.” Miyako’s high-waisted bikini bottoms and halter bathing suit top suited her figure, the cornflower blue color complimenting the slight tan she had already developed. She raised an eyebrow at my pink one-piece, but I just shrugged. Shopping for a skimpy bathing suits had never been one of my priorities.

Neither of us felt comfortable oogling guys when our friends were here and apt to make fun of us, so the though of swimming was abandoned. I smeared sunblock on any bit exposed skin, using the technique a toddler would when icing a cake: all hands on deck.

The pair of us sprawled out, Miyako’s body covering most of the cartoon cat. My pale legs claimed Takeru’s towel as my own. His blonde hair had disappeared in the throngs of beachgoers, and considering that he wasn’t the sunbathing type, I figured he wouldn’t complain.

Rays of sunshine encapsulated me, and the muscles in my shoulders slowly unwound. Eyes closed, I only half-listened to surrounding conversation. A child begged his mother for ice cream while some teenaged girl made her move. A nearby volleyball game was in full swing, both teams shouting at one another. The summer air was stagnant, smelling of sunscreen, sweat, and salt.

We laid around, soaking in the sunshine and the freedom that came with summer vacation. Those last few weeks of school had been stressful. Between taking pictures for the school paper and studying for any upcoming exams, I had been ready to lose my mind. Takeru had also been acting strange, flip-flopping between avoiding me at all costs or never letting me out of his sight. It had all be so intense that I was grateful for Miyako’s distraction, even if it meant waking up at the ass-crack of dawn.

“Psst.” I whispered. I rolled onto my side, doing my best to ignore the way iced coffee moved around in my belly. In our haste to get to the overcrowded seaside, we had forgone any breakfast, hoping that caffeine would be enough to fuel us throughout the day. The rumble in my stomach proved otherwise.

Miyako groaned, peeking at me through her ridiculously long lashes. Note to self: interrogate her about the brand of mascara she uses.

“Psst, Miyako.” She ignored me once again, opting to rotate like a rotisserie chicken.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll go find food on my own.” I stood up, dusting invisible debris off of my legs. Sure enough, I had my friend’s full attention. Anything that involved eating always got her going. In a flurry of purple hair and sand, she was up on her feet, eyes searching for the nearest snack source. A laugh bubbled out of my throat. Miyako tended to do all things with a theatrical flair, making even the most mundane tasks enjoyable.

Once, in middle school, we were both sentenced to lunch duty. Our job was simple: serve food to our peers. Dishing out food was easy; just ladle the mystery meat on a plate and voila! You were finished. It would have been simple enough, had we not had to wear hairnets and white smocks that made us look more like a middle-aged lunch lady than we ever wanted to. Miyako was never the type to wallow in self-pity. She ignored the looks of sympathy other girls gave us and found pleasure in the odd slurp sound the food made when hitting the trays. Soon, it became a competition of who could create the best squelch, testing out different flinging techniques until we were satisfied. By then end of lunch period, our smocks were littered with oil stain, and our cheeks were sore from smiling.

Miyako channeled her inner lunch lady food-flinging abilities as she practically pushed innocent bystanders out of her way. God help those who stood between Miyako and, well, whatever it was that she wanted. Her ponytail navigated through the crowd, giving me no choice but to follow. Her legs lead us to a slushie cart, manned by a woman who was all smiles and sticky syrup. It might not have been solid food, but I wouldn’t deny myself a sugar high.

A small line had already formed, several children tugging on their parents’ sleeves. My bathing suit clung to my skin uncomfortably. I tried to shift in place, but the air was thick with heat. Aside from seeing my childhood crush half-naked, waking up early hadn’t been the best idea. The sun was high in the sky, my morning shadow disappearing.

The line moved quickly, and before long, the pair of us stood at the front, pondering our choices. Finger resting on her lip in faux-concentration, Miyako made a show of deciding on a flavor “Could I have a mix of wild cherry and blue raspberry, please?”

“Why pretend to chose when you get the same thing every time?” As a woman of few pleasures, I found a great joy in calling Miyako out. Her flush of embarrassment was a rare sight. Turning towards the employee, I order the first flavor to have ‘strawberry’ in its name.

A few minutes later, we found ourselves walking along the shoreline. The waves lapped at our bare feet and we slurped on our slushies, rambling on about anything that came to mind.

“You know,” I said, disrupting the natural lull of conversation, “The last time I drank a slushie like this was before I even met you.”

By now, Miyako’s slushie had melted into a dark purple, the last remnants of red dye staining her lips. “But slushies are, like, a summer staple. What’s up with that?”

I twirled my straw around, savoring the last bits of pink ice that had collected on the bottom of my cup. “Well, my brother would probably make fun of me. He already gives me a hard-enough time about my ice cream addiction; he says sweet things are for children.” Switching voices, I lowered my pitch and curled my arms, much like an ape would at the zoo. In a horrible attempt at mocking my brother, I continued, “ ‘Hikari, sweets bad, protein good. Eat more meat.’”

I took a few more steps before I realized she was no longer beside me. Turning around, I barely had time to register the shocked look on her features before she cried out: “Slushies are not just for kids! Fuck him!” Apparently, my friend took summer treats very seriously.

If her passionate outburst hadn’t of attracted attention, her colorful language sure did. Quickly, I grabbed her arm, hastily pulling her towards our belongings. Embarrassment colored my cheeks as I attempted to dodge the gazes of judgmental bystanders. “Miyako, you can’t just say things like that,” I whispered to her, clenched teeth giving my tone a pinched quality.

“C’mon,” I thrusted her towel into her arms, “let’s get out of here before we get kicked out.”

Pulling on her shorts, she cast me a sideways glance. “I’m sorry, Hika, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Sighing, I held both of her hands between mine. “You said what you did because you care about me, and I can’t fault you for that.” I gathered up the rest of my own belongings before continuing. “Besides, you forgot to feed me today. I’m thinking we get some McDonald’s. Your treat?”

She laughed, hands now busying themselves with her shirt. “Isn’t McDonald’s for kids?”

Tossing my purse over my shoulder, I turned around and winked. “Fuck society.”

#miyako inoue #hikari yagami #digimon adventure 02

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snowbellewells · 6 years ago

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Face to Face in the Broad Daylight: Chapter One

Hello there, friends! I have to apologize profusely for this being a couple days late this week. I was visiting family over the 4th, helping to wrangle several little ones under five, and then was exhausted, but the first full chapter of my @cssns fic is here now. Hope you will enjoy and forgive the slightly longer wait.

A million grateful thank yous to @branlovestowrite for this beautiful banner to go along with the story. It adds so much, is absolutely beautiful, and I just smile every time I look at it! Please make sure to send kudos her way for the brilliant work she did.

If you did not get to read last week’s prologue, you can find it here: Prologue

And now, one with the show....

~chapter one: the element of surprise

Sunlight slanted through the tall windows onto the long, wooden shelves crammed and stuffed full of books in all sizes, hard and soft covers, old and new, and onto the table where a petite sprite of a brunette sat at a long conference table with more volumes spread open around her where she jotted several notes in a pad at her elbow. The beams of sunlight bathed her in yellow glow, and golden highlights seemed to sparkle in the strands of her hair as it curled over her shoulder. She was intent on her work in this haven of her beloved stories, so enthralled in her own magical make-believe realm of tales that she didn’t even hear the soft footsteps padding through the aisles toward her, nor the soft chink of the front entrance clicking back into place from her visitor’s arrival.

He didn’t garner her attention in fact until he neared her side, a gentle whisper of her name on a soft, affectionate breath caused Belle to look up in surprise, an exclamation of startled pleasure on her face as her pretty lips formed an “O”.

“Hello Lass,” Graham murmured warmly, leaning over to press his lips to her upturned mouth in greeting, neither one able to resist seeing the other without wanting to kiss them as well. Belle had spent so many years with a man who cared more for possessing her than actually spending his time with her or allowing her into his confidence. The luxury of loving someone not only open to her care and advice, but who needed her closeness and trust, thirsted for it as desperately and had looked for it as long as she herself had, was something Belle appreciated every day - never taking it in the least for granted.

“Hello yourself, Sweetie,” she answered, returning his kiss, and lifting a hand to stroke along his stubbled jaw with lingering fingers, reluctant to let the contact go.

For his part, a low hum in Graham’s throat, almost a rumbling, vibrated against her fingertips. The wolf inside was happy, turning to mush at her ministrations, puppy eyes and all. Even as their lips parted, he lingered to rub his nose along her cheek and nudge against her adoringly, a wordless signal of his devotion, chuffing almost as a wolf in the wild would to its mate upon returning from a journey or hunt.

“You asked me to meet you here,” the small town sheriff eventually prompted his girlfriend curiously, shuffling back just far enough to sit in the chair to her left. Even at that, he still reached forward to take Belle’s hand in his, twining their fingers and stroking hers with his thumb. “I’m always happy to see you, but… is something wrong?”

Belle looked at him for two, then three, searching moments, seeming to gather herself for a serious announcement. As if finally determining that she saw what she needed to in his face, she leaned toward him as well, bringing their joined hands to her chest. Graham realized then that she was blinking back emotion as she answered, “No, nothing’s wrong. Something is very, very right.”

Seeing him cock his head in puzzlement, she almost giggled joyfully at the truly canine trait before resuming her speech. She could see that he genuinely wasn’t sure what she wanted to tell him and didn’t want to leave him in the dark long enough to make him worry unduly. Graham had lived a far from simple or pleasant life, and snapped into fighting stance at a moment’s notice to protect her and the good life they had begun to build, as if still not certain after all he had suffered that something so precious could truly last.

“Graham, calm down. It’s fine, I promise. At least I think it is… and, well, I h-hope you will too… I’m - I’m counting on it anyway…” Pausing only momentarily, Belle daintily caught her lower lip between her teeth in just one more slight moment of hesitation. Her wide, dark brown eyes fell to study their joined hands where she had clasped them close to her heart as she gathered the courage to continue.

However, even before that was necessary, Graham tugged gently, bringing the back of her palm up to his mouth, where his words brushed against her skin. “You needn’t worry, Belle. Whatever it is, you must know that I’m here for you… that I’ll understand.”

And with those words, the tiny seed of worry that her news might not be something he’d want, vanished like the dark clouds after a storm, melting away from where they had begun to constrict her throat and loosening her tongue at last. With a sure and steady gaze centered on his scruffily comforting face once more, she forged on with renewed confidence. “Well, it’s just that… for the last week or so I’ve felt a bit off - nothing serious!” she hurried to add, seeing the worry wrinkle his brow almost immediately. “Just not quite myself. I had a suspicion of what might be going on, but after a test and a visit to the doctor, I know for sure. Graham… I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby!”

His eyes, always so expressive and open windows to his thoughts, widened almost comically. He shook his head, seemingly stunned, and opened and closed his mouth several times before he could manage to speak, but when he did, she heard the depth of feeling quavering in his gravelly voice, blinking glassily to hold back tears of his own.

“We’re to be parents? Truly?” he finally whispered. Even as he spoke he was easing to the floor to kneel before her, still holding her hand, his other coming tentatively to rest on her stomach, still almost ginger with stunned disbelief. “I never imagined … never thought… that we could… that I… that we… And you’re glad of this? You’re sure you’re alright?”

She nodded fervently, now unable to voice her reply, so choked up was she by his reaction. Beaming up at Graham, she was blinking back her own silent tears and couldn’t even care that they were falling.

With his warm, strong hand covering her stomach still, he leaned to press a kiss there as well, making her tingle even through the fabric of her dress. Leaning to rest his cheek against her warmth, Belle found her own free hand combing through his wild curls in a soothing gesture, much as his obvious love and acceptance for the new life within her and his touch to her midsection had calmed her. She had never feared for a second that he would abandon her, but she hadn’t been sure how he would react to the idea of fathering a child. Graham had been alone all of his life until Ruby had found him in the woods and she and her Granny had taken him in. He had never known his own parents, never felt a mother’s caress or heard her sing him a lullaby nor been bounced on his father’s knee. His closest siblings were literally wild animals; ‘raised by wolves’ was more than a mere expression in her beloved’s upbringing. The fact that he wanted this little one, this blessing that would forever link them, that they would have a chance to raise him or her differently than they had been, to care for and protect, making them a family forever, meant everything to her.

When he did at last lean back again to look up at her fondly, Belle saw the hope in his eyes, making them even brighter and more lovely than she had always thought them. Rarely had she seen such uncomplicated, untainted hope in his face as she glimpsed in that moment, her heart fairly overflowing. “And you’re happy, Sweetheart? This is what you want?”

“Absolutely,” she assured, cradling his face in her hands. “There is little I could imagine wanting more. A baby… with you… it’s almost too wonderful to believe.”

He nodded his agreement, a wide, crooked smile breaking across his face with the power of a beam of sunshine. “It’s almost like a miracle,” he concurred. “A child… a pup… of our own.”

Belle nodded once more, “That is why I wanted to meet you here,” she acknowledged with a tilt of her head to her gathered research materials and notes. “I’ve been trying to find out what I can about werewolf-human couples and childbearing. We ought to know if a child of ours would have your dual nature and abilities, if there are many risks to such a child being carried by a human mother… those sorts of things.”

Graham’s forehead creased with worry for her almost immediately. “What did you find?”

“Not much, honestly,” Belle sighed, shaking her head in dismay. “I realize that it isn’t an everyday occurrence, but we aren’t even the only interspecies couple in our town. I would have thought there would be records of others somewhere, that there might be some trace or knowledge of offspring from such a union - at least in legends or lore, if nowhere else. We can’t be the first ones to ever become pregnant… can we?”

The former huntsman’s brow was furrowed in thought, and she hated to consider than he might already be regretting his excitement at the prospect of a child. She wanted the little one she already felt as a part of her, human infant or wolf pup, however they decided to refer to it. Even after a mere day knowing of its existence, she found she was willing to defend its life fiercely with her every breath, every bit its mother. Graham’s clouded aspect didn’t fully clear, but his voice remained calm as he answered her query. “I wouldn’t have believed so - as you say, in a town full of werewolves, fairies, dwarves, and the like, I had almost let myself believe our coming together wasn’t all that peculiar…”

She was already beginning to shake her head against whatever he said next, sensing his hesitation, his fear for her safety, and that lingering blend of self-doubt and shame from the scars he bore, even before he got the words out. “No, Graham, it isn’t… don’t start thinking that! I don’t. Not even for a second.”

He leaned into the hand she was still pressing to his cheek, but he shook his head firmly, not willing to be completely dissuaded as he pressed his lips together before continuing, “But if you would be endangered, Belle… I couldn’t bear it. I would treasure beginning a family with you… for us to raise a little one together. But if carrying my child - a part supernatural child - puts you at risk, if it could cost your life… then I can’t help but worry. You’re the best, purest, most wonderful thing in my life. To lose you now… it’s unthinkable. No matter what we might gain. I’m sorry, my Heart, but it’s how I feel.”

Belle simply listened, knowing she couldn’t change his mind nor ease his fears. She would have to hold onto her faith for the both of them for a bit, but she could do that. Something inside told her this little one was going to be a gift, a miracle, and that she would be just fine and there to see it all unfold. Graham’s initial reaction gave her all she needed to know about her love wanting this new arrival just as much - it was only concern for her holding him back. Leaning forward, she rested her chin on his bowed head silently as they drew strength from each other in the hallowed quiet of the library’s walls. To her, her happily ever after had begun when Graham opened the door to her cell and set her free. Every moment they’d had together since had built on that promise, and this baby was one more thing she had once believed lost to her as a desire she would never see realized. If she needed to carry all the optimism for a time, then she would do so gladly - she held her biggest reason to do so in her arms, and an added reassurance was growing within her at every breath.

~~***~~***~~

The afternoon hours had proven rather long and tedious at the station for Emma. Graham had returned from a long lunch visit with Belle bearing a grilled cheese and onion ring order for her in thanks for covering while he did so, and they had chatted a bit as she ate, but something was clearly troubling him which hadn’t been weighing his shoulders that morning. Emma didn’t pry - that wasn’t their way - but she did watch her boss and friend as he retreated to his desk to “catch up on paperwork” and hoped he would let her help if need be. They had worked together long enough and come to trust each other well enough that she felt reason to hope he would share with her when he was ready, but in the meantime she hated to see him struggling. It had been wonderful to see him happy this last half year, when Emma knew he had spent so much of his life isolated, controlled, and lost.

Needless to say, when Killian had arrived at a few minutes after 3:00, wondering if she needed help with anything, or if she wanted company to ride with her as she made afternoon patrol rounds, Emma smiled at him gratefully, happy for any small diversion from the quiet bordering on monotony. Bidding Graham goodbye, she stood with the announcement that she was heading out on patrol, and Killian followed her quietly with a momentary greeting and wave to his friend. He obviously sensed Graham’s worry in the air as well though, and didn’t even attempt to pursue teasing or conversation beyond the quick ‘hello’.

Once they were settled into the department’s sturdy, if dated, car, Emma backed out into the street, moving slowly down Main and sent Killian a playfully devious smile. “Couldn’t go another hour without seeing me, hmm?” she teased, winking at the retired pirate beside her in the passenger seat. She was more than glad for the company and entertainment, but some small part of her felt the need to hold off declaring it immediately, trying to play just a little bit cool.

“Me?” her wolf man scoffed back, mock affront in his jocular counter. “It was you who jumped up like your seat was on fire and practically drug me out of there the moment I arrived with the offer of my accompaniment.”

Shaking her head, Emma snorted in feigned derision, attempting a haughty flick of her hair over her shoulder, as if his very insinuation was ludicrous, but she couldn’t keep up the unaffected façade for long; instead humor quickly got the best of her, and her frosty, unfazed expression melted in laughter, his deep chuckle rumbling right along with her giggles as she rested her right hand over his forearm where it lay atop the glove compartment when she finally tried to catch her breath. “Okay, Hot Stuff, you win,” she panted at last, eyes actually watering they had laughed so hard. As they reached the end of the street, she turned to make a loop past the school, the convent, and then to check the more deserted and less tended area of Storybrooke out by the old cannery.

Killian waggled his eyebrows with excessive flair as if needling her to say the words of her admission in full. “I win?” he prompted, “Why Swan, whatever do you mean?”

She huffed, though only really making a show of annoyance. “Of course I wanted to get you alone. Why wouldn’t I? A dashing alpha like you?” Even as she made her slightly embarrassing confession, Emma blinked her long lashes coquettishly, gazing up at him from under them for a moment, in a way she hoped was tempting.

Killian swallowed hard, and just like that, Emma knew she had turned the tables on him. He gave her a look every bit as seductive, practically singeing her skin as he murmured, “Easy there, Darling. I doubt you can handle it,” lowly against the shell of her ear. She shivered in reaction with no way to hide it.

For a moment, she had all she could do to bite back a moan at the wash of heat he sent cresting through her veins, press her thighs together against the lust that threatened to overtake her faculties, and simply keep the cruiser on the road. By the time she could see straight again without a haze of desire blurring her vision, they had passed the cannery and were now circling back around the outer edge of Storybrooke’s limits, headed toward the forest and the town line. For his part, Killian appeared quite pleased with himself, sitting quietly in the passenger seat, but with a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Emma knew the time to explain her more serious reasons for being so happy to see him that afternoon would come. If Graham didn’t confide in her, perhaps Killian could offer a listening ear and help him with whatever was troubling him. Of course, they needed to know and deal with it swiftly if the issue wasn’t merely personal but the matter of some new trouble brewing in town. Right now however, she just wanted to sneak a few more private moments with this man she has come to love - and want - so intensely. She had never been able to let go this fully in a relationship before, to give up her doubts and her need to be in control, to let someone else take the lead and trust they were worth following. She didn’t go to prom and then to the local makeout spot with a date, didn’t get to attend college and smuggle her boyfriend back into a cozily crowded dorm room with her scrunchie on the doorknob as a warning to stay out. Emma had never been free to enjoy the youthful abandon that most did, and though Killian had been similar and understood that sort of stolen youth as few others could, he also inspired a bit of it in her now, and she wanted to enjoy it for at least a little while longer.

It was quiet all the way out at the town line where she parked by the side of the road near the “Leaving Storybrooke” sign. With the branches of the forest trees hanging over the pavement, their shade made the spot seem dim and secluded, even in midafternoon. Turning in her seat to face Killian, Emma arched her bow and shot him a challenging look, unbuckling her seatbelt and scooting a bit nearer as she did it. Licking her lips salaciously, her eyes automatically fell to his toned chest and the dark hair smattered across it generously, practically taunting her with its luxuriant abundance. Once her eyes locked onto his deeply opened collar, Emma couldn’t tear her gaze away from the feast before her; one hand moving of its own accord to brush through the thickly curling hair on his chest, appreciating the solid, warm muscle below it as well, and slipping beneath the loose material of his shirt to trail along his pectoral. Her hungry eyes took in his nearly sculpted beauty, and she wondered - not for the first time - why Killian even bothered with buttoning his shirt at all. She spent an inordinate amount of time doing just as she was now, imagining ripping it open completely and sending buttons scattering everywhere.

Killian’s head fell back against the seat, eyes slipping closed as a sinfully deep groan left his lips in response to her wandering explorations. Emma bit her lip, knowing she was about to unman him even more completely, and yet, hardly caring, simply unable to resist the tempting image he made laid out before her. With one hand still planted on his chest, she let the other begin to work its way leisurely down toward his waistband, slipping her fingers teasingly beneath the tight denim as she worked her way to the button and zip.

Her boyfriend’s eyes snapped open at that, darkened with arousal that made her own pulse pound even more furiously. His hips bucked up toward her questing touch of their own accord, and a whine that sounded nearly as animal as it did human, escaped his throat, but he still managed to ask on a heaving breath, “Emma… are you sure? It’s the middle of the afternoon…”

Gazing down at him, Emma allowed the mischievous gleam in her green eyes to show him just how certain she was of what she was doing. As if to prove her point, she swung her leg over the center console and was already beginning to shuffle across to straddle his form in the passenger seat even as she nodded and answered, “Yes, but the whole town’s quiet. No one’s out here. It’s just you and me, Sailor,” in a low croon.

That last reminder seemed to be the final break in Killian’s tenuous control. His arms came around her, pulling her down on top of him fully and surging forward to kiss her with the same sort of fire that had already captured her. His hand was nearly fisted in her hair, drawing her head where he wished to kiss her more fully, and his hook traced over her curves, seeming to touch everywhere else at once.

Emma practically purred with satisfaction, hips rocking against his as they neared the point of no return, awkwardly close quarters and broad daylight long forgotten, when an inconvenient yet impossible to ignore sound broke into her consciousness. Heavy crashing noises approached through the woods nearby, moving quickly with no fear of noise or damage being left in its wake. She would almost swear the ground beneath them seemed to be quaking with the footfalls even before she heard the mournful howl of a wolf ring out on the breeze. Killian’s eyes were already riveted to the tree line, as if he had known what to expect from the first reverberation, and Emma’s gaze followed in time to see a large wolf break wildly from the forest, howling again and then bounding toward their car with purpose. The huge creature was nearly as tall as Killian when he shifted, but this one was more leggy and lean than her muscled mate - and where Killian’s wolf coat was startlingly black as night, this wolf was an exquisite near-white dusted with almost silvery grey accents across its back and haunches.

The look in the creature’s eyes though was what arrested Emma’s attention. Even before it reached the cruiser, she was throwing the door open, she and Killian scrambling out together to meet it. Just as she had seen numerous times with her love on full moon nights, there was still something compellingly human lingering in the lupine gaze as the wolf neared them, whining and circling, panting heavily, but refusing to sit or be still.

It motioned with its head as if asking them to follow, pawing the ground and then darting back toward the woods, only pausing to see if they would follow. Though Emma’s friend had never actually shown herself to them in shifter form, clarity suddenly came to Emma in a flash. “Ruby?” she whispered, awed and concerned at once. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

The wolf dipped its head, as though giving a nod of confirmation, but then shook itself as if banishing all other questions and made for the tree line once more with a pitiful rumbling moan in its throat.

Killian’s blue eyes met hers, clouded with worry instead of lust, their private interlude pushed aside in concern for their friend. He nodded tightly, the tense movement in his jaw flexing before they plunged into the forest side by side, following the werewolf who had taken off again, leading them toward whatever new danger had arrived.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @cssns @kmomof4 @branlovestowrite @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @spartanguard @laschatzi @bmbbcs4evr @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @therooksshiningknight @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @ilovemesomekillianjones @let-it-raines @drowned-dreamer @gingerchangeling @blackwidownat2814 @linda8084

#cssns19 #cssns au mc #cssns werewolf sequel #face to face in the broad daylight #chapter one #captain swan #graham x belle

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mightyfineblog · 6 years ago

Note

Riding Brian’s thighs and making a mess and him being all hot over it and fucking you until you’re begging him to cum in you smut?

A quick blurb.

Brian May x Reader Smut

Aaah, dear. Brian legit has the right to fuck you over anywhere. He is a pleaser, won’t tease you too much, when you are needy. You’d try to play it cool, but gave in your resistance a long time ago. His eyes and lips are so manipulative, you succumb entirely.

One day though, while he was working at the studio, you got super bored at home. You tried everything from telly to books to baths… it all made your horny thinking about Bri.

After giving yourself a good bath, massaging some oils into your skin to make it glow, you had a glass of champagne by yourself, while dancing in front of the mirror. Needless to say, you ended on the floor, hands running up your body, feeling sexy as hell. “Gotta do something about it.” You thought.

Popping in the studio, you playfully skipped to Brian and placed your hands in front of his eyes. “Guess who?” You giggled.

He places his hand on top of your and in one swift moved turned you in his brace. “Whats up darling? Didn’t expect you here?” He starts trailing a finger on your temple.

“Aren’t you excited to see me?” You pout your lips.

“Yes I am” he gently kissed your nose.

You let a quiet groan as you wrapped your hands in his hair, twirling it between you fingers. He leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss.

“Briii” you moaned. “Babe, I miss you” you puppy eye him.

“How’s that so?” He have you a calming smile.

You leaned to whisper in his ear “it’s so lonely st home. Tried everything to distract myself, unsuccessfully! All I kept thinking was you, still is… “

“What does my baby want?” His soft voice sends shivers.

“Need you Brian, need you now.” You we’re playing with the hem of his shirt.

“We’re due to a break in like 5…go upstairs, and find the boiler room” he seeuctively instructed you, before giving your bum a small slap.

You giggled and took off. Once inside the dark boiler room… you sat in a table kicking your legs, in anticipation. It was purely too hot, you had to get rid of your jacket, scarf and shoes, leaving yourself only with a dress.

Then Brian shoves himself in, staring “already started without me? Tc tc tc” he clicked his tongue.

“It’s hundred degrees in here Brian…” you defend yourself.

He stepped closer and you dragged him by the collar In a wet kiss. Your tongue playing with his, trying to dominate, be he wouldn’t let you.

Your hands pushed him next to you and you immediately straddled his lap.

Kissing him restlessly, your mouth was sucking on his neck. “God, you’re so needy…” smirks at you.

“You got no idea, how much, i need a relief, Brian!” you hiss against him, grinding on his lap.

“Do you want to ride my thigh?” he cocked his head to the side.

“yes, yes, please” you plead, as he shifts you up, brushing his fingers against your wet underwear. “Mmm” he hums, and slides them down. situating you in his lap, his hand is guiding down your hip, while the other tugs your dress up.

Once your glistening core makes contact with the leather of his pants, you let a moan. “Moan for me” he encourages, guiding you with both hands.

“Aah, this feels so good…” you pant.

“Does it now?” he lifts his leg and you fall against his chest, head buried in the crook of his neck. You are panting and moaning, while he whispers dirty things in your ear, making you squirm even more. Until he feels you are getting close, your are sloppier and your moans strangled. He abruptly lifts you up and you whine in protest “Brian!”

“You think, I was going to just let you come that easily? Gotta beg for it, darling. Look at the mess you made.” he looks at the pool on his thigh.

You are so ready to throw a tantrum, but he is quick to remove his trousers and underwear. Springing free his length, he pushes you flat on your stomach on the table. Without warning he pushes all the way in, making you yelp at the sudden friction.

“You like that, babygirl?” He leans and his hand wraps around your chin, making you look at him. You nod. “Please, Bri. Fuck me.” succumb.

He starts pounding hard, making your head fall forward, in your hands. you are biting your lips so hard not to scream.

He leans again and grips your hair, pulling it backwards, making your back arch.

“Fuck” you whine. “Do you want to come?” his soft voice doesn’t match his rough movements.

“Yes, please, yes!” you quint your eyes. “Since you beg so dearly for it.” His hand find your clit and starts massaging it, soon after you are panting so hard, all you say is his name, the only warning you give, before a hot wave rushes through you body. Your legs, weak, eyes closed.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck” you cry out as he goes even more rough against your sensitive core. “Brian, please, come inside of me” you find yourself begging.

Your oversensitive throbbing cunt, is warming up again, as you feel a second more powerful orgasm, creeping up to you. “That’s right, Y/N! Need you to come on my cock, one more time.” he slaps your bum.

“Fuck, I can’t hold it any longer!” he grunts.

“Please, come inside of me Brian. Fill me up, let it drip down my legs.” your voice is shaky as you are close too.

He grunts a few more times and then spills his hot cum, making your walls close around him, covering you from everywhere, completing you.

“Shit, baby” he rides out his high, while you are tossing under him, crying from your over sensitive second orgasm.

When he pulls out, his cum drips down your shaky legs. He kneels and enjoys the view “Don’t wash until I come home.”

…

Sorry for any mistakes, hadn’t edited at all, literally wrote it on the ride home.

#brian may smut #brian may imagine #brian may fanfic #brian may x reader #brian may x you #brian may headcanon #brian may dirty imagine #brian may gwilym lee #bohemian rhapsody imagine fanfic #bohemian rhapsody imagine #bohemian rhapsody smut #gwilym lee smut

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thedyingmoon · 5 years ago

Text

💜 This I Promise 💜

***

XXXVII. Veteran

***

"Forgive me for putting you through all of this." Nile told (F/N) as she received the list of schedules he made for her to help her cope up with being his assistant and a Winter Season debutante at the same time.

"It's okay, uncle. I can handle it." She answered him, receiving the paper from him with a genuine smile.

"Are you sure you won't tire easily?"

"I won't, I assure you. I'm strong." She said while flexing her right bicep in front of him.

Nile chuckled at this. "Alright, kid. Be sure to join the others for the assembly. We have an important visitor for today. Make a good impression for me, got that, (F/N)?"

"Yes, Commander!" she said, imitating Hitch and Marlowe's attentive stance she saw the other day.

"Alright. Here's your uniform. Be there in thirty minutes." He said while handing (F/N) her very own Military Police uniform.

"Yes, sir." She said.

Nile left her inside his office to give her time to change. And when he finally closed the door, she took a good look at her schedule.

And gasped in fright.

500 - Wake up, bath, breakfast

600 - Training with Mikasa and Jean

1100 - Assist Captain Levi

1200 - Captain Levi's lunch

1800 - Captain Levi's dinner

2000 - Dismissal

She closed her eyes, thinking that she was still half - asleep, then opened them again. And when she looked at the paper once more, the words she saw earlier changed.

600 - 800 - Preparation ( Breakfast, Bath, etc. )

800 - 830 - Assembly ( Every Monday only )

900 - 1200 - Office Hours

1200 - 1300 - Lunch break

1300 - 1500 - Office Hours

1500 - Dismissal

1500 - 1600 - Free Time

1600 - 2000 - Dance and Etiquette Lessons with Delilah Smith

2000 - Dinner

2100 - Free Time

*Off every Saturday and Sunday

(F/N) stared at the paper, unable to believe what she just saw. Yes, Nile made it a point to make her weekdays as productive as possible.

But, those words? What is the meaning of that?

Who is Mikasa? Who is Jean?

Who is - ?

"Hey!" the door of the office was suddenly opened by Hitch, who caught (F/N) still staring at her schedule like a confused student. "You need help changing?" she then said upon seeing that she was still not wearing her uniform.

(F/N) quickly folded the paper and smiled at Hitch, hoping to somehow distract her from her obvious momentary disorientation.

"I can do it myself, thanks, Miss Dreyse." She said, faking a smile.

Hitch raised an eyebrow. "Whatever you say. I'll wait for you outside, okay? The Commander doesn't want you getting lost around the premises, so I'll accompany you to the Assembly Grounds, but just this once. After this, you're on your own."

"Got it." (F/N) said, nodding.

"Make it fast."

"I will."

Hitch closed the door, giving (F/N) privacy and time to change. She was about to go to the bathroom to change when she suddenly noticed the insignia that was embroidered on the brand - new uniform.

It was a pair of wings, the left one blue, the other one white.

She almost dropped the thing on the floor as nausea invaded her system. Her knees instantly weakened and she had to grip tightly on the edge of the desk to support herself.

All of a sudden, some unknown images flooded her mind all at once, which left her feeling sick and nervous. She saw unknown faces, unknown people, two people pushing her away, a person wearing a pair of glasses, a girl wearing a blood - red scarf,...

A person wearing a white cravat,...

She shut her eyes, hoping to chase the sickness and dizziness away from her. A few moments later, the images seemed to stop invading her. The nausea abruptly vanished, and the sickness went away. She opened her eyes once more and looked at the uniform in her arms.

The insignia,... was that of a green, horned horse. The symbol of the Military Police.

She covered her eyes and exhaled. She knew she wanted so badly for her memories to return.

She just didn't expect it to be that difficult.

She removed her hands from her face and glanced at the clock on the wood wall. Fifteen minutes left.

"I must get dressed,..."

Hitch impatiently waited for (F/N) to get finished. She knew it was difficult to put on the whole thing on oneself.

"How could a newbie put on those straps and harnesses?" Hitch asked herself, remembering that (F/N) had no experience wearing the uniform. "Maybe I should help her, anyway?"

She turned around and was about to open the door when it suddenly opened, revealing the girl in question wearing the uniform in the most exact way.

It was as if it wasn't her first time wearing the thing.

"What took you so long?!" Hitch barked at the girl.

"I'm sorry,..." (F/N) answered, thinking that she was just in time.

"Let's go, they're waiting for us."

Hitch and (F/N) ran towards their destination, finding that all the Soldiers were already standing at attention, facing the huge platform in the middle of the vast venue.

The girls took their place at the last line, careful not to get noticed by the senior officers who were silently standing mournfully at the platform.

"This is your fault, Carlstead. You'll pay for this, you hear me?" Hitch angrily whispered at her.

"I'm sorry!" (F/N) whispered back, unable to believe that they were really that tardy.

Hitch took the liberty to look around her, wondering what the silence was for. (F/N) was about to ask her the same thing when a huge hand came down roughly on her shoulder, startling her to death, figuratively. A strange and old face suddenly peered down her to meet her eyes and she had to suppress her shriek as the man grinned at her, showing her his perfectly aligned white teeth.

"Eh, what do we have here, a newcomer?" he said to her, his low and threatening voice sending shivers down her spine.

(F/N) gulped audibly and just nodded her response.

He smiled broadly at her, if it was even possible. "We'll have a really good time, you and me, kid."

(F/N)'s eyes widened.

His steel - blue eyes,...

Have I seen those eyes before?

"Captain Ackerman, we didn't see you come here." A senior officer, who was standing with his colleagues on the platform, said, startled by the man's sudden appearance, as well.

"You never see me coming, rookie." The Captain drawled lazily, tilting his dark bowler hat intimidatingly.

The senior officer yelped like a helpless puppy in fright and gave his the other officers a helpless, pitiable look.

Kenny Ackerman, who was vastly disappointed by the poor quality of the present Military Police officers, clicked his tongue in annoyance and laid his sharp gaze towards every person on the Assembly Grounds.

(F/N), on the other hand, looked around her and woke up from her fright upon realizing that each and every Soldier had already drawn back in terror as far away from Kenny as possible. Her cheeks turned red as she quickly ran towards the other Soldiers.

But, the stance of that man, those eyes, the way he clicked his tongue,...

It was as if she had seen all of those before.

Kenny cleared his throat and spoke up, addressing each and every person who was present.

"Seeing that your current senior officers are disappointingly incompetent and useless as of the moment, I will take this as an advantage to introduce myself to you, kids." He said. He lifted his hat just a little to reveal his sleek, dark, shoulder - length hair and grinned at them like a villain from some old theatre production. "I' am known as,... Captain Kenny Ackerman. But, you can just call me Captain Kenny Ackerman. Or by my legitimate title, Senior Captain and Veteran of the Military Police Force. A mouthful, yes. But, you can't have it any other way, trust me."

All at once, the younger Soldiers yapped amongst themselves, exchanging stories of this man who was known as the greatest Military Police Officer who ever lived in the face of the planet.

But, (F/N) was thinking of something else.

That name. He said Ackerman.

Where did I hear that name before?

Kenny's eyes widened upon hearing the things that were being conversed about him and laughed.

"Am I really that popular to you, kids?"

"Sir," an older officer approached Kenny, trying to break through his intimidating shell. "I think it's time for the - "

"Shut your peehole, Ronnie. I'll have it my way." Kenny interrupted him without so much as a glance towards him and faced the young ones, clapping his hands like an excited tutor. "Okay, kids. I introduced myself. It's time for you to introduce yourselves."

An overly excited young man came forward, smiling broadly from ear to ear, and approaching Kenny fearlessly.

"Sir, I'm Floche D - "

"Okay, Floche, let's talk." Kenny said, smiling, as he threw a dagger towards him. The boy caught it and was abruptly attacked by the eccentric veteran. Kenny was so fast that the boy barely had enough time to dodge his attack, and just narrowly missing his left cheek.

Almost everyone gasped in terror, including the senior officers. Kenny looked at them innocently.

"Why? You all had your combat training, right? And you're all supposedly the cream of the crop, or corps, yes?" Kenny said as he readied himself for another stealthy stance.

"Captain Ackerman, I'm not sure if - " Senior officer Ronnie began, but he was, once again, interrupted as Kenny launched another attack on the poor boy.

"Come on, I'm not gonna kill anyone. I just want to see how well - trained you are, and if you need further training with me. How can you call yourselves decent MPs if you can't even fight poor, old me, eh?"

Floche gulped and bravely faced Kenny. "Yes, sir! I understand, sir!"

Kenny flashed his devilish grin once more. "Good one! We'll proceed with the introductions!"

(F/N) watched in fear as Kenny went on with his introductions, the nausea and sickness from earlier coming back to her. Everything about the man screamed familiar to her. The way he fights, the way he dissed the senior officers,...

Who is he? Who is Kenny Ackerman?

"(F/N)? Hey, (F/N)!" Hitch whispered closely to her ear.

"The way things are now, you shouldn't be here! You have no combat experience. He'll absolutely kill you! Go now! I'll cover for you."

"I, uh,..." (F/N) stuttered, unable to believe her incredible luck as she watched Flochr being played with by Kenny.

"Go now!" Hitch savagely whispered, almost pushing (F/N) away to let her escape.

Kenny noticed this out of the corner of his very sharp eye, turned to (F/N) and grinned devilishly at her, making all of the hairs on the back of her neck stand. This gave Floche enough time to retaliate. He failed as Kenny did an impossibly high somersault just to avoid the boy's swishing knife.

Marlowe went instinctively towards (F/N) and Hitch as he observed the whole thing.

"There's no use escaping now, (F/N). He'll flay you alive." He said, making matters, and her insides, worse.

"Oh, and what do you suggest she do, eh, mop head?" Hitch said, irritated at Marlowe's lack of compassion towards the newbie.

He looked angrily at her, offended by what she said, and said to (F/N), "Just tell him that you're just the Commander's assistant. Maybe he'll go easy on you."

"Are you freaking serious?! This girl had ZERO combat training, you hear?!"

Marlowe's sweat began trickling down really hard on his face. "Is,... that so?" he uttered, watching as Kenny called it quits on Floche and called another participant.

For almost three hours, the introductions went on without so much as a break for old Kenny. But, despite that, no Soldier has defeated him yet. Not to mention his amazing and unbelievable stamina that does not seem to deplete with each passing minute.

One by one, both male and female, the Soldiers surrendered to Kenny's overwhelming strength, making the senior officers pray hard for the young ones' safety. It seemed that Kenny's strength only grew stronger with each person he fought. It was not any different for both Hitch and Marlowe, who both went down without so much as a decent fight against the infamous Ackerman.

Which left (F/N) the last Soldier standing on the field.

Every person on the Assembly Grounds, including the senior officers, looked at (F/N), looking like they were watching a lamb as it was about to get sacrificed.

Kenny grinned and gestured for (F/N) to come closer. The scared and nervous girl came forward, anticipating her downfall at the hands of the veteran. Kenny threw her the dagger and positioned himself.

(F/N) was about to cry. Not to mention the ugly feeling in her stomach.

Was this also a part of being a true lady?

Suddenly, some words invaded her mind, igniting her senses like a talisman

You have to be very vigilant, (F/N). Observe your enemy closer. Know how they will attack.

She narrowly missed Kenny's attack as she bent backwards and pushed the ground above her with a single hand, launching herself in midair and landing a few feet away from her assailant.

A collected sound of gasps could instantly be heard on the background. Kenny was dumbfounded at what just happened and launched another attack at the girl.

The girl quickly dodged the charging dagger and stealthily kicked Kenny's legs, making him topple. (F/N) turned just in time to see him gaining his balance instantly. She had to make another flip as Kenny now launched a powerful kick to her face, narrowly missing it by inches.

Both Hitch and Marlowe gasped as they watched (F/N) and Kenny exchange blows, but not receiving any from each other. One by one, the Soldiers, and the officers, started rooting for (F/N) as she launched a brave right hook towards Kenny, hitting him fairly on the stomach. And even before Kenny had time to react, the hand that punched him, which was also the hand that held her small weapon, left his stomach, throwing the dagger in midair. (F/N) caught it instantly, back - hand style, and launched an uppercut at Kenny, which slightly grazed his chin and shaved some of his facial hair. Kenny's eyebrows furrowed in anger as he grabbed (F/N)'s right arm and threw her across the field. She reacted quickly and reduced the damage of her fall by landing on her feet.

The men clenched their fist and the women covered their mouth. (F/N), as if led by pure instinct, charged at Kenny, her dagger held masterfully by her right hand. Kenny smiled at her bravery, removed his hat, and changed his hold on his dagger so he was now wielding it in back - hand style. And the instant the two fighters charged, the whole crowd went wild with cheers.

Each blow and each attack seemed acrobatic in the eyes of the people, amusing them with such moves that they haven't seen before. Each assailant was perfect in their own way, the veteran sly and calculating, and the girl nimble and agile.

But, Kenny, could never be defeated. (F/N) was losing her stamina, and as she was about to launch another attack, her lapse gave Kenny enough time to parry her as he let out a super fast kick on her legs that threw her off balance. The girl landed with a huge thud on the ground. She tried to stand, but seeing that she was unable to do so, she just stayed where she was and closed her eyes, finally admitting defeat.

Kenny looked down at her and spoke.

"Hey, kid, you fine?"

"Yeah. I just need,... a little breather." (F/N) uttered while gasping for air.

"Here." Kenny offered her a hand, which she took graciously. He helped her up in her feet, and when she was finally standing properly, the crowd erupted with loud cheers and applause.

Kenny proudly smiled at her, ruffling her hair like she was a puppy.

"You did well, kid." He said.

The Soldiers all went towards the Commander's new assistant, all willing to know her secret for staying alive in front of Captain Kenny Ackerman.

Kenny saw this and turned once more to (F/N).

"I think we'll get along." He said. He brought his face closer to her ear, giving her tingling sensations, and whispered to her, "Was that how you survived Sutherland and his cult?"

(F/N) felt unnerved by what the man said. She was about to question him when she saw him already walking away from them.

"You should all learn from (F/N). The rest of you will have basic combat training with me for the rest of your year here until you learn how to properly hold a dagger. Then, we'll have the following year for your rifle exercises. Only then will you have the right to hold your maneuvering gear. Got that, kids?" Kenny said, then walked away without waiting for their reply.

"Hey, Annie! You did it again! You did it again, you ridiculously strong bitch!" Hitch happily said to (F/N) while shaking her shoulders.

"Annie? Who's Annie?" (F/N) asked her, confused by what Hitch just called her.

Marlowe nudged Hitch's arm with an elbow, making her instantly realize that she said something she shouldn't have.

The rest of (F/N)'s day went on with multiple hands patting her shoulder, amazed of her skill. Even her uncle Nile was proud of her.

But, the mystery remained, and she couldn't shake it off.

Who is Annie? And who is she to Hitch?

What did Kenny mean back then? Who is Sutherland? And, what cult?

But, more importantly,...

How did he know her name?

***

Little Levi struggled as he tried to stand for the fourth time that day. He furiously held the dagger in his little right hand and he charged blindly at his teacher.

And for the fifth time that day, Levi was taken down by Kenny.

"Use your head, kid! Don't just charge blindly." Kenny shouted at him. "Have you not learned anything?!"

"No!" Levi stood, threw his dagger angrily away, and went closer to Kenny. With his little fists, he punched the six feet three man and cried. "I don't understand! Why do I have to fight? Why do I have to do this? I want to learn how to write! I want to learn how to read! I want to have many friends! But, they go away because of you! I hate you, Kenny! I HATE YOU, KENNY!"

Kenny sighed. He grabbed the little boy's fists, stopping them from punching him, and faced him.

"Because the world hates us." He told the boy, penetrating his huge eyes with his own tired and intimidating ones. "The world persecutes us. And because of that, you must learn how to fight. Fight like your life depends on it!"

"Nobody hates me! Momma said I'm a good boy. They don't hate me. They hate you!"

"Oh yeah? She said that?"

"Sure did!"

"And where is she right now?" To this, the boy stopped screaming and went silent. Kenny tightened his grip on Levi's fists and went on. "Where is she, huh, kid? Where is your mother?"

Levi's eyes flooded with tears as he howled helplessly, thinking of his mother who died because of her sickness.

"That's right." Kenny said to the boy. "She died. All because of the people who hate her. Of the people who hates us."

"Why do they hate us?!"

"Because we are special people. You are a very special boy, Levi."

"I'm,... special?"

"Yes. And because of that, they are jealous. So jealous, that they went too far as to hunt down our kind. They don't want their place to be taken away by us!"

"But, we're not taking anything away from them!"

"Exactly. We're just doing what we are being told. To protect them. And this is what they paid us for our loyalty. Hatred. Massacre. Your mother's death!"

"Mother died,... because of them?"

"Yes." Kenny let go of Levi's fists and held the boy's skinny shoulders. "I'm doing this so you could learn to defend yourself and the people you love. You have to protect them from those people who want us dead!"

Levi wiped his tears with his torn shirt, which was his mother's when she was still alive.

"Yes." The boy croaked. "I will protect them."

"Good." Kenny stood and threw Levi the dagger, which was caught by the little boy. "One more and we'll be done for the day. Got that, kid?"

"Yes, Kenny." Levi said as he prepared himself for another attack.

"This time, do what I taught you. Observe your enemy. Know how they will attack."

"Yes, Kenny."

The taller man smiled.

"By the way, Levi?"

"Yes?" the boy asked him.

"I bought you books and pencils yesterday. I'll teach you how to read and write after lunch."

***

~ @levi4mikasa , @nerdyphantomlady , @yepps , @shewolfofficial , @unhappysap , @super-peace-fangirl , @fangurl-ontgeside , and @emilyackerman78 . 💜

***

💜💜💜

***

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #levi ackerman #captain levi #this i promise #levi x reader #levi x you #snk kenny #chapter 37 #veteran

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omnomsauruswrites · 6 years ago

Text

You missed

Pairing: Bucky x Darcy

Summary: Darcy's really bad day doesn't end the way she thought it would.

Warning: Fluff

It was a day full of fires, of angry directors, of frustrated scientists, so Darcy let her head hit her desk in resignation. Starting the day over, she knew wouldn’t help matters. Tomorrow didn’t look any better.

Jane was still sciencing in a corner, her machine still smouldering. Darcy sighed. She was done, so done with the day. “Jane, I’m out,” she declared.

The scientist nodded in acknowledgment and Darcy rolled her eyes. So done.

She gathered her things and went to the elevator, hitting the button for her floor. All she wanted now was a neapolitan pizza and ice cream. She wasn’t going to cook. Today wasn’t a day for that.

Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she strutted down the hallway to her apartment. Where was Bucky when she needed him? Away as per the usual because some dumbass had to decide to strike Boston.

She rolled her shoulders, then her neck, popping vertebrae as she typed in her code. Her head tilted as jazz music hit her ears. Who the fuck had gotten into her apartment? Clint was away, so was Bucky, so was Thor. “What the fuck?!” she muttered, as she stepped in.

She grabbed her taser, now concerned for her safety. She slipped off her heels and silently tiptoed into her apartment. “Hi doll,” a voice called.

“Dammit, Bucky!” she cursed, finger letting go of the charger, electrical wires shooting into the wall. “Fucking shit!”

Bucky chuckled, as he walked towards her, taking away the taser. “Sorry, Darce,” he apologized, letting the charge go before pulling it from the wall.

“You are going to fix that,” she ordered, turning away and walking towards her bedroom.

“What no kiss?” he asked.

She heard the puppy dog eyes in his voice and didn’t turn around. “Doll…” he inquired.

She ignored him, as she pulled down the zipper to her dress, revealing her basic black bra and panties. “Darce…”

She pushed the dress to the floor, grabbing Bucky’s navy henley and put it on. She huffed out a breathe before turning to her boyfriend. “When did you get back?” she asked.

“Two hours ago. Wanted to surprise, my girl,” he answered, stepping forward. “FRIDAY told me about the fire. Thought I’d make it up to you.”

She felt the corner of her lip turn up. “Make it up to me how?” she inquired, stepping forward.

“I made carbonara and picked up strawberries,” he said, placing hands on her hips. “Does that sound good?”

She hummed, leaning in. His lips came closer then hit the corner of her mouth. She hit his arm. “You missed! Your lips were supposed to kiss mine, dingbat!”

He chuckled before tilting his head to kiss her gently. His lips moved against her languidly, teasingly before her tongue licked his bottom lip. He groaned, tongues dueling for control. His hands squeezed her hips.

He pulled away first, noses swiping in Eskimo kisses. She giggled. “There’s a smile,” he purred.

She pinched his side and he gasped in horror. “You dare pinch the Winter Soldier,” he teased.

“He’s no match for taser girl,” she joked, lips sealing against his one more time.

He chuckled, pulling her out of the bedroom and back to the kitchen. “And I bet taser girl is hungry.”

“She is,” she confirmed, now noticing the candles on the table, the garlic bread and a bottle of bubbly red. “What’s the occasion?”

“Told you, I wanted to make up your bad day,” he replied, going back to bechamel sauce.

“This doesn’t look like a bad day meal,” she replied, eyes glancing at the table then at him.

He took the pasta out of the pot and into the pan. She walked into the kitchen, hand going to his lower back. Her fingers walked up his spine. “Does to me.”

She looked at the food then at him. Something was off. “Did I miss an anniversary?” She inquired.

“No, doll.”

“Ya sure?”

“I’m sure.”

She eyed him up and down before moving back to the table. He plates the food, bringing it and setting it down on the table. “Sit,” he commanded.

She arched an eyebrow but didn’t argue. She opened her mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say. She was missing something. Did something happen on the mission? Though that wouldn’t explain the meal. “Did the mission go OK?” she inquired, twirling pasta on her fork.

He nodded, taking a bit and talking around it. “Went fine.”

“No big surprises?”

“Nope.”

She tried not to frown. His short answers were beginning to get on her nerves. “Anyone get hurt?”

“Nope.”

She dropped her fork to her plate and it banged on the ceramic. “I know you have an extensive vocabulary in several different languages, why don’t you use it?” she ordered.

His eyebrows shot up at her hostility. She clenched her fists. “Darce…”

“I get that I had a bad day. But that doesn’t explain the candles or my favorite meal….”

“I can’t do something nice?” he interrupted, hand going through his hair.

She bit her lip. Why couldn’t she accept that he was doing something nice? It’s not like he hadn’t before. He was known for drawing her bubble baths, making her dinner, bringing her flowers, taking her dancing. Nine months in and he still surprised her but never with candles.

She picked up her fork and didn’t answer. She took another bite, eyes downcasted to her plate. His flesh hand went to hers and squeezed. “Doll…,” he began. “I promise, I’m just trying to make your bad day better.”

She hummed and took a sip of her wine. “Alright.”

They ate in comfortable silence for the remainder of their meal. “Wait here,” he ordered when she was finished and collected her plates.

She folded her hands in her lap, waiting. Minutes later he came back with a bowl full of strawberries and clotted cream. He pulled his chair to be next to hers, dipping a berry into the cream and then placing it at her lips. She took a bite and he groaned. He took the next bite before letting her enjoy more. He kissed her after they finished the first berry.

She moaned when their tongues touched. He pulled away and she whimpered at the loss. His blue eyes darkened in the candlelight. “Doll…” he swallowed.

She smiled softly. “Yes, Buck….”

He dropped out of the chair and onto one knee. “Buck…” she gasped.

“You’re right. I didn’t just want to make dinner tonight. I want to make you dinners for the rest of your life if you’ll have me. Because doll, I love you so damn much. I had to go to Boston to grab something of mine….”

“Baby?”

He pulled the velvet green box out of his pocket, opening it. It was a vintage ring with a blue topaz jewel. Her hand hovered above it before pulling back.

“I know nine months isn’t a long time but I fell for you the first time I saw you …. and I … you are my shining star. My light in the dark. Please…”

“Yes…” she whispered, holding his metal hand. “Yes, Bucky.”

He surged forward, sealing his lips against hers. His hand held the back of her neck. She hummed in delight. The kiss lasted for minutes before he pulled away, placing his forehead against hers. “You’ll marry me?” he asked quietly.

She kissed him softly. “Yes, Winter, I’ll marry you.”

@cchellacat @eurynome827

#darcy x bucky #bucky x darcy #wintershock #wintershock fluff #darcy lewis #Bucky Barnes

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