#Rosie if not take if further. They really did try to pull away from the PM era towards the end.

[forensicated]

Oh the irony 😂😂

I will forever hate that Gina wasn't around for Gabriel's demise. It just didn't make sense given it was HER who kickstarted it all off and kept pushing it through for her not to be involved full stop when it all came tumbling out.

[wlw-imagines]

It’s Not What It Looks Like - Eloise Bridgerton/Reader (Bridgerton)

request: “can you make like a eloise bridgerton and her lover get caught?” - anon

a/n: very excited to have the time to be writing again, happy days -- set at beginning/mid season 2 ig?? also regency homophobia? pft the bridgertons are above that shit (mostly... so this is a sprinkling of regency homophobia warning ig but more gay pride really !!)

back to new fresh writing from this year (how is it 2024 wtf) - word count is almost 6k yo + no editing because i do not want to

The two of you giggled like little children as you raced one another up the stairs. Eloise pulled on your arm in an attempt to overtake you but you just about managed to beat her to the spot - despite her cheating tactics. 

You tangled your fingers with hers, holding onto her hand as you opened the door to her room, “We should cause a nuisance to your Mother more often.” You looked over your shoulder and made eye contact as you spoke, grinning mischievously. 

Her cheeks turned a sweet rosy colour as she mirrored your smile, letting go of your hand in favour of wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, her hands rested on your hips.

“Hmm, what a punishment to get sent away to be together.” Eloise expelled an over-dramatic sigh before letting out a light laugh. “After all, we are just doing what we’re told.” She shrugged innocently and moved around you, sitting down and landing on her bed with a bounce.

You laughed, letting your gaze linger across her room, acquainting yourself once more with Eloise’s own space and all the small things that had changed since you were last here, “It seems extremely unlike you to ever do what you are told, my love.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, before patting the space next to her.

“Come here, sit.” She smiled and shifted slightly to the side, “Perhaps close the door first.” You let out a small laugh and turned around, gently pushing the door shut.

Turning back to Eloise, you quirked up an eyebrow and smiled, taking a few steps back to stand in front of her, “Is the door shut so we may have further deep discussions about the poetry you leant me? Because if so-”

As soon as you were close enough, Eloise interrupted you and pulled your body between her legs, pressing against her front. Before you could try to finish your sentence, El had her hand resting on your jaw and had pulled you towards her to kiss you. 

Her kiss was, as always, full of emotion and meaning, though today it was also a kiss with a hint of urgency. You let yourself relax into her as she kept your body firmly against hers in as many ways as possible - craving your touch.

You pulled away gently and rested against her. She closed her eyes and smiled, “I must admit to wanting to do that for the longest time.”

Putting your hand back under her chin, you whispered, “You may do it again, if you so wish.” 

She wrapped her arms around you, rolling and pulling you onto the bed so you were lying on top of her and she giggled, peppering your face with kisses.

“We should be careful, my love.” You said, pursing your lips and glancing at the door as you pushed yourself up. El sighed and pulled you back against her, a slight pout on her lips.

She jutted her chin up slightly in defiance and her pout gave way to a soft smile, “Maybe I do not want to be careful.” 

You let out a small snort and gently raised an eyebrow again, “Hmm,” You pressed a few soft kisses to the corner of her mouth, before moving yourself so you were laying next to her with your legs still across her lap - ignoring her protests. You felt something crackle beneath you and moved to grab it and, upon realising it was the newest Whistledown, you held it out to Eloise, “Did you read the latest gossip?”

She groaned lightly in frustration at your distraction tactics but humoured you all the same, rolling onto her side and propping herself up on her elbow, “I may have been distracted half way through. It arrived just before you did.” Her hand came to rest on your stomach and she gently traced her fingers over the material of your dress.

“Where did you get to?” You asked, the gossip already opened as you re-read the pieces you had seen earlier in the day. Eloise raised her head slightly to look at the paper in your hand and gestured to the third paragraph of the first page.

“Perhaps around there?” She shrugged slightly.

Your eyes widened, “Oh, but you completely missed the best bit!”

“Read it to me?” Eloise asked, looking to you through her eyelashes. You smiled, blushing at the intimacy of the moment. 

“Surely there are more romantic things for me to read to you?”

She just hummed and rested her head against your shoulder, “My heart is so full for you that anything you do makes it beat faster.” 

“You’re very soppy, you know that right?” The blush on your cheeks increased tenfold and you couldn’t resist pressing a soft kiss to her lips, brushing your noses together before moving back slightly.

Before you could get another word out, Eloise’s door burst open and Hyacinth fell into the room, a broad grin on her face. Her eyes skipped around the room, looking for the two of you, “Hello? Sister, please - please may I borrow your silk ribbons for m-

You did your best to scramble up and put a bit more platonic space between yourself and Eloise, “H! Good afterno-”

Eloise lazily rolled over, glancing over her shoulder to see her sister, “Hyacinth? Go away. We were in the middle of-”

Hyacinth cleared her throat and had already begun retreating backwards out of the room, her face bright red, “Oh... I didn’t- Sorry, excuse me.”

Your heart was beating faster now and you called out in an attempt to stop her. You wanted to try to explain that it’s not what it looked like at all, “H, wait-”

“Don’t, just let her go. Stay here with me.” Eloise took your hand and tried to pull you back into her again but you resisted this time.

“No, El, what if she tells someone?”

Eloise sat up next to you with exaggerated effort and huffed, “What would she say? Besides, I still want to do this...” She leant towards you, her hand brushing against your hips as she gently connected her lips with yours, “And you were going to read to me?” She whispered, mere inches away from capturing your lips with hers once more.

“What would she-? Really, my love? What would you say if you were to see... the Duke, for example, practically straddling your sister?”

“Straddling? We weren’t straddling, we were just- It’s not...” The realisation dawned on her as she looked at you and considered the close proximity - her hand on your lower stomach, your legs tangled together. Her face went pale as she whispered, “Oh, fuck. Hyacinth! Sister, it is not what it seems.” She untangled herself from you and jumped off the bed, gathering her skirts as she chased after her sister. “Hyacinth!” 

You took a second to panic before pushing yourself off the bed and you followed El out the room, almost crashing into her back on the landing outside, “Where has she gone?” You asked El, who shrugged and you could see the similar panic in her eyes, mirroring your own.

“Mama!” Hyacinth’s voice drifted to you from below. Your head snapped round to the stairs.

“Bloody hell!” Eloise muttered under her breath, running around you to get to the stairs. She thundered down them and, if you weren’t worried about Hyacinth, then you would have laughed at her complete unladylike stomping.

Hyacinth’s voice wailed again as she looked around for her family, “Mama!”

“Oh my, whatever is the matter?” Violet’s voice joined the mix once Hyacinth had found her, evidently exasperated with all her children’s drama.

“It was Y/N and Eloise! They were... together.”

It felt as though there was an audible eyeroll before the two of you heard a response, “Well, yes, I sent them both upstairs to talk about their books and other such stuff. They were too loud down here with all their... chatter.” Just as she finished talking, both you and Eloise hurtled around the corner and into the sitting room, in which the whole family was sitting.

Eloise quickly - and loudly - voiced her objections to whatever accusations she had been picturing her sister making, “Mother, whatever Hyacinth has just said... she is lying. She is withholding the truth from you, as she often does, and-”

Hyacinth’s nostrils flared slightly in annoyance, “I do not!” She interrupted, frowning over at her sister, who quickly (and childlishly) responded right back.

“Do too!”

“Eloise, be kind to your sister.” Lady Violet quickly put her hands up to signal for the two sisters to stop talking and to find some kind of peace, “Besides, she has said nothing but that the two of you were talking.” She shrugged and began to turn back to the rest of the family but Hyacinth piped up again, more confusion and irritation lacing her voice this time.

You quietly and quickly prayed to any deity listening that Hyacinth’s words wouldn’t be utterly discriminating, you still had a chance to wriggle your way out of any current accusations.

“No, I don’t mean talking.” Hyacinth rolled her eyes and her cheeks turned red, “Mama, you must believe me. They were... together!”

Violet let out a deep breath and shrugged apologetically, “Darling, I do not know what you mean.”

You clear your throat and try to shrug nonchalantly, but ends up an awkward flail, “No one does- I mean, it’s fine. Let us all go back to what we were doing, how about that?” You try to move the conversation on - desperately, you must admit.

Simon raises an eyebrow and tilts his head ever so slightly at you, you blush and shake your head. This immediately causes a smirk to break out on his lips, which he clearly does his best to suppress or to hide but this just brings Daphne’s attention to him. You are sure your blush is a permanent feature now.

“Hyacinth, you always cause such a rush and a chaos, running down here to announce nonsense. What do you mean ‘they are together’?” Daphne herself chooses to chime in, frowning at Simon with a questioning glint in her eye.

Eloise lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes her head, “I rather think she means nothing, so-”

Anthony sighed deeply and in an over-exaggerated manner, leaning his head on his palm before snapping, “No more breath need be wasted on this subject. They were together, so what?” He shrugged, clearly bored of the conversation and fuss, and dropped his hands to his knees.

Eloise brightened up and gestured towards him as she looked and nodded to the rest of her family and then focused her gaze back to Anthony, “Well said, brother!” 

“Eloise!” Colin gasped and you did all you could to suppress a groan of disbelief. Anthony immediately straightened in his seat, a fresh interest lighting up his eyes.

“What?” She looked to you with slight alarm, sensing she had done something wrong.

“Agreeing so vehemently with Anthony? I never thought I’d see the day!” Colin leant forward, looking between Anthony and Eloise. He shrugged, raising an eyebrow, “Well, if my suspicions weren’t first raised by Hyacinth screaming the house down - now they well and truly are.” 

Eloise took a deep breath in and shuffled her feet slifghtly before rolling her eyes, “Sometimes... I occasionally might agree with what he has to say.” She folded her arms tightly across her chest, staring defiantly at Colin.

“No, you don’t.” Anthony challenged, bringing everyone’s attention back to him.

Eloise frowned and gritted her teeth, “Yes, I do.”

He let out a scoff, “No, I am sure that you do not.” 

“I simply insist that I do!” 

You let out a small sigh and sunk down into the armchair next to Simon and Daphne. Simon sent you a glance that, at first one may think was sympathetic, but, upon further inspection, showed he was clearly enjoying your public annihilation. You just glared at him, which made him simply smile. Infuriating man.

Colin stood up between the two of them and gestured to Eloise, “Now look! You can’t even agree as to whether you agree.”

“So, what, pray tell, is going on?” Daphne raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and Simon and clearly clocking the looks you were giving one another.

You reluctantly cleared your throat, deciding now was a good time to take the heat off from Eloise who was clearly struggling, “I promise, nothing untoward is happening here. We were just playing games, weren’t we H?” You smiled over at Hyacinth, begging her with your eyes to just go along with it.

Hyacinth’s eyes lit up, “Like Daph, and the Duke!” You audibly groaned this time. This kid would not take any hints.

VIolet hesitated, her eyes flitting from one daughter to the next, Hyacinth to Daphne to Eloise, before letting out a confused- “What?”

“They were together... like them!” Hyacinth looked slightly triumphant as she pointed across to Simon and Daphne.

Simon raised an eyebrow and shook his head before muttering under his breath, “Oh, no. Please don’t drag us into this.” You wanted to turn to him and stick your tongue out, but realised that was probably not the best move to play in this very moment.

“Well, I rather think we should let the two in question answer us.” Daphne stared pointedly at the two of you. 

“Here, here!” Simon quickly chimed in, wearing another annoying smirk on his face as he looked at you.

You were about to attempt to protest but as you opened your mouth Eloise defiantly piped up, “Fine.” She shrugged, as nonchalant as she could be.

“What?” You asked in a low voice with a bit of urgency, looking up at where she was standing above you.

You locked eyes and she nodded, clearly trying to convey a message (of which you had  speaking slowly. “Y/N and I were...” She hesitated and you started to panic, knowing you had to come up with something in order to save her.

“Arguing.” Eloise said at the exact same time as you interjected with- “Dancing.”

Eloise swirled back around to look at you, “Dancing? Why in the heavens would we be dancing?” She all but hissed and you looked at her with equal confusion.

“Your sister and her husband dance together... I don’t know?” You rolled your eyes before gesturing at her as you stood up, “Better, in my lowly opinion, than arguing.” 

“I had a plan! If you just let me say it then we would be fine right now.” She lowered her voice - as if that would stop everyone (who all had their eyes glued to the pair of you) from hearing your conversation.

You shook your head, “Eloise, you were floundering!” 

“I was not.” El all but stomped her foot, “I was... pausing for dramatic effect.”

“No, you always do that long pause whenever you are moments away from coming up with a lie. Everyone knows that!” Your voice rose slightly and you gestured to everyone in the room. In your peripheral vision, you could see Daphne raise her eyebrows before nodding. Even if you couldn’t keep the two of you a secret any longer, at least you had the vindication of winning that single point.

You watched as Eloise tried to come up with a rebuttal but, as already established, you were clearly correct. You grinned at her, utterly triumphant, and she just sighed before fondly rolling her eyes and letting her own smile mirror your own.

A clearing of the throat broke the brief silence and Colin’s voice soon followed, “It doesn’t take a genius to understand that the two of you are clearly lying but... really, Y/N? I mean, I must agree. Dancing? Eloise doesn’t dance lest she makes Mother believe she wants to be married off to the unlucky suitor.”

Eloise quickly shifted her glance to Colin and frowned, “I dance.” She insisted at the same time as you moodily grumbled out, “We dance.” and sat back down. To which Colin simply raised an eyebrow and opened his palms.

“Well, in that case, maybe Mother should marry her off to you.” He said and, seconds later, his gaze shifted to one of understanding. He went to open his mouth and shut it moments later.

Hyacinth let out a loud, frustrated sigh and pointed at Colin, “That’s my point! They were behaving like they’re married!”

“Right... I see.” Violet sat up stiffer in her chair and glanced down at her entwined hands before looking up to her daughter, “Hyacinth, go to your room.”

“But-”

Hyacinth went to protest but was quickly shut down with a steely one word response from her mother - “Go.” Reluctantly (and rather sulkily), she retreated out of the family room and stomped up every single stair before shutting the door to her bedroom rather loudly.

Throughout this, Violet’s eyes restlessly moved from her hands, to Eloise, and back, before eventually landing on Eloise completely. “Now, Eloise, I will only ask you this once. Were you- What was it that the two of you were... Tell me what Hyacinth means by...” Her mother danced around the subject, her hands working at the fabric of her dress, until Daphne sighed loudly and moved her body to sit facing Eloise.

“Mother remains to lack a certain skill of talking directly about... certain things. May I ask instead... are the two of you fucking?” She kept eye contact the whole time, hardly reacting as her mother physcially flinched and gasped, her cheeks turning rosy.

“Daphne!” Violet spoke, aghast.

Daphne eventually turned to her mother, “What? You cannot dilly-dally around with such a subject.” She shrugged and turned back to the two of you.

“I... yes. I guess perhaps... that is what I was getting around to in a way.” Violet’s gaze evetually settled on the two of you as well. 

You knew this direct line of questioning (and outing by Eloise’s sister) was going to be slightly harder to avoid than previously. And even then you hadn’t managed to do a convincing job of it. Still, the two of you bravely (stupidly) fought on.

Eloise vehemently shook her head, “I- no! We don’t...” She put her hand on your shoulder, which would normlly be soothing, but you pushed it off, hoping no one saw (they clearly did). “I mean we weren’t-”

You squirmed in your seat slightly. Explaining your relationship with El’s family was not what you had planned for the day, “What Eloise is trying to say is-” Eloise shook her hand at you, trying to forge on with her own sentence.

“To say ‘fucking’ is too-”

Your eyes widened at the way in which this conversation seemed to be going, “Eloise!” You cut her off, cheeks ablaze.

She looked across to you with innocent eyes, “What! I-”

Before she could land you in it even more, you tried to steer this into safer territory - desperate not to have to talk about sex in front of Eloise’s family, “Okay, listen-”

Again, Eloise managed to charge on. You slumped back in your chair, exhausted from trying to keep Eloise under control and away from the topic of fucking, “You know, I find it very interesting that... pleasuring a woman is deemed purely a male pastime and not-”

You let out a groan of frustration and sighed, taking hold of Eloise’s hand and squeezing softly, “El, my love, not the time.” She kept hold of your hand and turned to you. You took this as an opportunity to actually talk, “She meant we were not doing anything of the... sort. We would not even perchance dream of-”

Before you could finish your sentence, yet another Bridgerton was interrupting you. You involuntarily squeezed Eloise’s hand, tense at having to fight off more allegations, “They definitely are... surely. Look at them.” Daphne spoke.

You looked around the room. To Simon, who looked in pain at how much he was having to hold in a laugh. Daphne, who looked victorious. Colin, who still had an annoying, clever (but not unkind) smirk on his face. Anthony, who - in all honestly - couldn’t look much more like he was living a nightmare - perhaps tortured was the word. He was probably not feeling up to dealing with yet another Bridgerton scandal or another duel at dawn (which, for the record, neither were you). And Violet, who had started to return to a more normal colouring in her face, was looking slightly more relaxed - although you still couldn’t really read the woman.

Then... Eloise, who, since you had interrupted her, had been gazing at you. You were fools to believe that you could keep this under wraps. You finally saw her as if you were looking from the outside in and she had the most ridiculous, overpowering, gorgeous love-eyes you had ever seen. You melted in your chair slightly. You’d do anything to not have to give this up.

Eloise squeezed your hand gently and enveloped you in a hug as she was still standing and as you were still sitting, squeezing you into her side. She took a step back and held out both her hands. You hesitated but nodded, slipping your hands into hers.

With her gaze holding yours she nodded, “Yes, fine, we’re fucking.”

“Eloise!” You gasped, letting go of her hands and swatting at her head. She let out a laugh as she ducked away from you. Simon, next to you, finally let out the laugh he had been holding and Daphne quickly joined in. You turned to them, with red cheeks once more, “It’s not funny! Eloise, you’re being crass. And an ass. And anything else that rhymes!”

“I’m just answering the question I was given!” She grinned cheekily, stepping close enough to tempt another attempt at a hit from you, before dodging it just in time and letting out another laugh. You couldn’t help but start to grin at the absurdity of the situations, Eloise laughing wildly as she jumped around you, Simon shaking with laughter next to you. Even Anthony may have let out a small laugh. Maybe.

“Okay, stop, everyone.” Violet’s voice interrupted the slight moment of insanity, “How long has this been going on for?”

Eloise, still slightly puffed out from dodging your attacks, shrugged the question off, “Mother, it’s not-”

“How long?” Violet’s eyes were steely as she raised an eyebrow, tutting when Eloise let the silence stretch on a bit too long.

“Perhaps just a handful of months? Two? Or three. Maybe four?” Eloise’s smile shrank with every word.

“Under my roof?”

You slid back into your seat and quietly mumbled, “Under many a roof, in all fairness.” Although Violet had clearly heard as she frowned.

“What is this?” She asked gesturing between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” Eloise asked, stubborn as always, pushing her mother further than perhaps necessary.

Violet sighed and her eyes raised to the ceiling, “Eloise? Is this just your way of rebelling away from what is expected? From society? From me?” She asked, eyes landing back to Eloise.

“Mother-”

You wished you could bring back the laughter from moments ago. You gritted your teeth, annoyed at the woman you practically saw as your own mother. You hadn’t planned on telling anyone. Really you were going to try to live your whole lives together without anyone finding out. Which, in retrospect, had seemed a bit foolish. But you had hoped that Violet, and the Bridgerton family, of all people would be slightly more free-minded than this.

You stood up, putting yourself between Eloise and Violet, “This isn’t a rebellion.” You huffed out, angrily and frowned at Violet to really prove the point that you were angry at her. As the silence drew on and Eloise didn’t voice her approval of your input, you started to doubt yourself. You slowly turned to Eloise, eyes soft with sudden worry and feeling of self-consciousness, “Is it?”

“Of course not.” She frowned in dismay, shaking her head as she held your chin in her hands for a few moments. She then moved forward so she was shoulder to shoulder with you, “Mother, I- I don’t work to society’s rules. I’m not... it’s not my fault. It’s just me.” 

This was it. This was the make or break. You took in a deep breath and interlinked your fingers with Eloise’s. Stronger together. “El-” You whispered, your heart hammering. Violet had to accept you. She had to.

Violet’s voice came out slightly wobbly, “Eloise, of course it’s not your fault, you just-”

Before Violet could say anything more Eloise interjected, “I love her, I do. I love Y/N. Like you loved Father.” She sniffled slightly. You took a long sideways look at her and squeezed your eyes shut. Come on Violet. “I remember watching and wanting and yearning for what you had, ever since I was young. And I couldn’t understand why I could not even fathom that with any man in the ton. I haven’t known who I am. But I have that with Y/N, I do. You cannot blame me for finding that kind of love with her just because she is not a man, please.” Eloise’s eyes became glossy. You had to give it to her, she always pulled out a good speech. Well... not always actually. But this one was a good one. You squeezed her hand and didn’t stop until Violet answered.

“No, Eloise, I would never.”

“I know it may not seem right to many, but it’s... it’s not my fault... it’s who I am.” Eloise trembled slightly. Violet was on her feet before you knew it.

”Oh, my Eloise.” She herself had watery eyes. You could breathe a bit more easily as she swooped forward and brought Eloise into her arms. You let go of Eloise’s hand to let her wrap her hands around her mother’s waist. After a few moments, Violet pulled back, “Look at me. I know who you are. You’re a Bridgerton. You are one of the strongest people I have ever known. You are not at fault. How could you be when there is nothing to be at fault for?”

“You really think so?” Eloise asked.

Violet held both of Eloise’s clasped in her own, “Of course I do. A love like mine and your father’s, a love like yours, is rare so you have to hold onto it, yes?”

“I will.”

“Come here,” She hugged her again. “You too, Miss Y/L/N. Y/N.” She smiled at you and your face broke into a broad grin as she enveloped you into the hug too. You knew you could rely on her, always. Even if it took a little bit of time. “The two of you deserve the world.”

From the middle of the hug, you heard a soft clearing of a throat and Anthony once again piping up, “I don’t suppose you’ll be providing a dowry?”

Eloise pulled away from the hug, wiping at the tears grouping at the corner of her eyes, “Oh, shove off, Anthony.” She let out a half laugh and a half sob.

“I jest!” He grinned, “Unless...?” He turned to you, raising an eyebrow, a twinkle in his eye.

“I’m sure I have a few pennies to my name.” You smiled and Eloise’s arms circled your waist from behind.

“And I love her for more than just those few pennies!” She shouted over your shoulder, pulling you into her front.

Anthony put a hand on your shoulder and ruffled Eloise’s hair, “I am happy for you.” He finally admitted, a brotherly pride shining in his eyes.

You shifted away, letting Eloise and Anthony have a brief sweet moment (before one of them made a biting remark and it turned to hostility again). You decided to reclaim your seat next to Simon, who, with something akin to brotherly pride, put his arm around your shoulder.

“And I thought Daph and I caused quite the stir.” He grinned, bringing his arm back around to his side.

“Don’t, I’m embarrassed enough as it is.” You wriggled deeper into the settee, willing yourself to forget the majority of the embarrassing things that has just happened. The two of you watched as the present members of the Bridgerton clan all talked at the same time, spitting out jokes and jostling at one another.

Simon followed your gaze to Eloise and let out a deep chuckle, “You’re a rake!” He exclaimed.

You gasped in fake outrage and turned to him, “I am not!” You protested, a smile forming as he continued to laugh and elbow you in the ribs.

“You so are! Worse than me, you rascal.” He smiled, his own gaze settling on his wife, who was tormenting Eloise with ‘girl talk’.

“Stop! I’ve heard the stories of you and Daph. You’ve out-rascaled me ten times over!” You smirked.

He shook his head, “The big rake competition of 1815.” He hummed. You smiled as Eloise came to join you, making you squeeze up to fit herself next to you, as well as letting Daphne fit in her original seat.

As silence descended and everyone started to calm, Violet let out a contended sigh and leant back in her chair, her eyes turning to the settee the four of you were currently squabbling over, “I must say, I’m quite good at this love matching malarkey, aren’t I?” She asked. Everyone immediately stilled and there was a heavy pause before the noise began again.

Anthony raised an eyebrow, “Well, I wouldn’t say that you-”

Daphne let out an exasperated, “Mother!”

Eloise snorted, “You have done nothing to help our love matches!” 

Colin sighed and shook his head, “God help the rest of us...”

Violet decided to ignore all her children and smiled serenely. And at that moment the doors swung open.

“Good afternoon one, good afternoon all, how are we?” Benedict swanned in, immediately clocked a plate of biscuits and helped himself, taking the whole plate in his hands. He munched for a few moments before looking around for an answer. When he didn’t get one from anyone he smiled, “What?” He finished his mouthful and wiped his hand clean before going for another biscuit anyway, “Well, have I missed something?”

There was another long pause before Violet almost burst with the answer, “Y/N and Eloise are together.”

Benedict’s eyes swerved to the two of you, practically sitting in each other’s laps in order to fit on the settee together. He paused before nodding and gesturing in your direction, “Yes, I can see that.”

Violet smiled and shook her head, leaning forward in excitement, “No, like, together together.”

The crease in Benedict’s forehead deepened as he glanced at you again, “Yes... as I say, I can see that quite clearly.” He let out a small laugh, looking around to see if there was some joke he was missing. “Is everyone okay?”

“Oh for goodness sake, can no one in this family communicate properly and succintly?” Daphne fumed, “They are fucking.” 

“Daphne!” You groaned, having prayed that this day couldn’t get more embarrassing for you. And yet there was still more embarrassment to bloody experience. This family was torture (you still would do anything to keep them in your life though, that was clear).

“Okay, can we stop with the crude language?” Violet cast a look to Daphne, before looking at the two of you again with pride, “They are lovers.”

You felt Eloise recoil next to you, “Gross, Mother, no.” She shook her head and only stopped when she saw you looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “What? I mean, I love you but- lovers? Really?”

“Sorry, that’s the big news?” Benedict’s laughed again and his smile grew as he whirled around to look at his whole family again before shaking his head, “Well, obviously! These two are the least subtle ‘lovers’ in the whole bloody world.” 

“Again, with the ‘lovers’.” Eloise muttered next to you.

You smiled and whispered back to her, “Shut up, you love me.” She squeezed your thigh quickly in answer.

“Does anyone actually pay attention to what goes on in this house?” Benedict walked over to the settee you were occupying and leant his elbow on the back of it, taking another biscuit and spreading crumbs as he went.

“Well, I thought we did a splendid job.” Eloise shrugged, removing her hand from your leg and crossing her arms over her chest.

Benedict shook his head, “I’ve seen you kiss at least seven times.”

“You’re counting?” You quirked an eyebrow up, teasing him as he threw his head back to laugh.

“No!” He protested, “I simply mean-”

You jumped up, ready to be the teaser rather than the teased, and grabbed a biscuit of his plate, “Do you keep a little notebook of each time we encounter one another?” You grinned, now finally the one who gets to revel in someone else’s embarrassment.

Eloise snorted, “Dear diary, Eloise and Y/N held hands for seven minutes and forty-two seconds today-”

“Leave me be.” Benedict rolled his eyes good-naturedly and swatted at Eloise as he started to walk away, back out of the family room.

You followed him, taking another biscuit, and continuing Eloise’s joke, “They kissed twice but one was simply a kiss upon the cheek so cannot be counted-”

“And here i was going to offer to be your beard.” He grunted. The rest of the family stayed seated, listening to your conversation.

Your laugh ringed out, “Total kiss-count to date: three.” You mimicked his voice.

“Now that you are essentially a sibling, I am not afraid to kick you down the stairs, you know.” Benedict’s muffled voice came from the bottom of the stairs. Your voices got quieter as you walked to the dining room and Violet looked around the room, smiling brilliantly.

“How marvellous. The family grows!” She winked at Eloise who sighed and left the room, not wanting to be without you now. Violet watched her go and hummed before turning to the rest with a frown, “What is a ‘beard’?”

Anthony took in a deep breath and quickly stood to his feet, “I think dinner is ready.” He cleared his throat and walked out, leaving the rest to slowly join him, and the three of you, at the table.

[tojirights]

Okay this is going to sound like really bad but I did read your rules and saw that dubcon/noncon could be allowed so

please begging for a dub/noncon (up to u which) crumbs where Alastor is tired of reader's stubbornness and thinks it's time to really let her know her place (al owns her soul) and okay thank u bye pwosjdjeidnsj *runs and hides under a rock in shame*

a/n: HAAA YESSS. no this is amazing 😍😍

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, NONCON‼️, alastor is a demon fr, forced penetration, dacryphilia, choking, slight throat fucking

"good morning, would you be a dear and run this to rosie for me?" alastor pops into your room unannounced, as usual. you're tired, he had you up all night on another shitty errand, and you just want to sleep a little longer. "alastor please, can't anyone else do it?" you sigh, irritation bubbling in your chest. he never lets you rest.

alastor raises an eyebrow. "no one else is available." his tone is harsh, and when you meet his eyes, they're darker than they were a moment before. "this is the part where you're supposed to submit, say 'yes sir' and get out of bed." he leans on his staff, glaring red eyes staring through you. "or did you forget?" your eyes widen when you realize what he's about to do. there's a flash of green, and you feel the clasp of that shitty metal collar around your neck.

your deal with alastor backfired, just as he intended it to, and he ended up not having to do a god damned thing in exchange for your soul.

with a sharp tug of his chain, you're forced to sit up. the pull around your neck makes you cough, and you glare back at him. but when you do, you're quickly filled with a certain level of primal fear. alastor was no joke when he was angry, eyes glowing red and those antlers growing from atop his head.

"you need to learn, my dear, that the word 'no' is not a part of your vocabulary anymore." alastor walks with slow, determined strides towards your bed before his knees hit your mattress. he tugs once more, pulling you up and onto your knees. "alastor don't..." your breath catches in your throat. his hand grips onto your jaw, squeezing you uncomfortably. tears prick in the corners of your eyes, and you let out a shaky sigh. "don't?" alastor repeats, laughing. "have you forgotten the fact that i own you?"

you reach for his wrist in an attempt to remove his hand but he's far stronger than you. "i-i'll go, i'm sorry." you hiccup, but alastor has already made up his mind. "mmh, i don't think so. i don't tolerate insubordination, darling." your heart hammers in your chest when alastor's fingers find his belt. "you’re going to learn one way or another." he growls, freeing his half-hard cock and tugging your restraint.

you clench your teeth, and try to look away but alastor's grasp is too tight. his thumb drags along the bottom of your lip before prying your jaw open. "listen and be my good girl, this won't be so bad." you shut your eyes, the only thing you can think to do to cope with alastor forcing the head of his cock between your lips. there's only a moment of hesitation, a sigh from the demon above you, before his cock is being slid further down your throat.

every groan from alastor earns another tear running down your cheek. his hands hold your face steady as he pumps his cock faster, fucking the back of your throat. "so pretty, darling. look at me." he grunts, pulling your eyes up to his. they're glassy with tears, and its almost enough to make alastor cum down your throat in that very instant.

his cock pulses and he's forced to pull out of your warm mouth in fear of releasing before getting to take your cunt too. he taps your cheek gently, watching you cough and recover your breath after having your airways restricted. "strip, then i want you ass up on the bed." your lip quivers, and your body refuses to move even after you tell it to. alastor sighs, shaking his head. "must i do everything?" his words are somehow gentle and harsh enough to pull a sob from your chest.

before you can stand, alastor reaches for the hem of your sleep shirt and tears it straight down the middle to expose your tits. on instinct, you try to cover yourself but alastor's shadow circles both your wrists and pins them to your side. "please alastor... i promise, i-i will do anything you ask. please just don't do this." you plead, but alastor just clicks his teeth with his tongue. "you should've thought about the consequences before this, my dear. i've found that making an example out of someone typically gives the best results."

he does release his shadows, freeing your wrists and watches carefully as you follow his previous instructions. you kick your shorts off with a muffled cry and turn to shove your face into the mattress. ass up, you prepare for whatever alastor has in mind. his fingers find your slit, delving into the wet heat between your thighs. the laugh he releases sends a chill down your spine. "wet as can be darling!" without giving you another moment to process, his cock is pushing thick and hard into your unprepared pussy.

your scream gets caught in your throat, heat coursing through your body in an overwhelming way. "n-no, too much alastor, please stop." you cry, muffled into the mattress as you try to scramble away from him but you feel alastor's shadow come back to pin your arms. you're trapped at this point, completely under alastor's control. there's no choice but to give in, your body going limp as alastor pumps his hips into you.

"good girl." he coos, raking his clawed hands down your back. angry red marks follow in its trail. "see how easy it is to just obey?" every inch of his cock pushes you to your limit. "such a good cunt..." he sighs, his hips stuttering before he pulls out and you feel each thick rope of cum hit your ass. you finally open your eyes, letting every emotion flow through them as alastor empties his balls all over you.

there's a moment of silence while alastor catches his breath. "now... will you be a dear and run this to rosie for me?" he reiterates, and your whole body tenses. is he not even giving you time to recover? to clean up? fuck...

"y-yes sir..."

[m0llygunn]

underdressed (eddie munson x fem!reader)

continuation of coco chanel (can be read as a stand alone but makes more sense with the first part)

summary: following coco chanel’s infamous rule of taking one thing off before leaving the house, Eddie is left feeling desperately needy for you.

contents: 18+! mature language, porn with (some) plot, smut, allusions to semi-public male masturbation, oral (f receiving), p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, pet names, eddie being desperate a/n: coco chanel is rolling in her grave im so very sorry please forgive me wc: 4k

“Before you leave the house, look in the mirror and take one thing off.” “It is always better to be underdressed.” -Coco Chanel

Handsy. That’s the best way you could describe how Eddie’s been the whole night. 

Hands on your waist, hands on your hips, hands slipping under the hem of your dress. 

You’ve gone without underwear before, but you suppose Eddie’s never been so blatantly aware of it until the night’s over. Starting the night with this knowledge has Eddie permanently feeling you up for your lack of underwear, over and under your dress.

Fingertips trailing up the hem of your dress, grazing the crease where your thighs meet the flesh of your ass, dancing as high and as close to your core as he can before you stop him out of courtesy for the people around you. It’s been the same thing on repeat, over and over, him trying to feel his way into getting you to go home.

When that doesn’t work, his head is permanently pressed to your neck whispering whatever he can to convince you.

“Baby, let’s go. We have to go,” he whispered into your ear at one point. When you continued talking to a friend, he pressed his hips into yours from behind, making you blatantly aware of his issue at hand. It wasn’t shocking though, he started the night with an erection and it’s been on and off since—mostly on though, and pressed firmly against your ass. 

Another point in the night, his hips pressed to yours, he was whispering every single word he has on reserve just for you in a desperate attempt to get you home. “Feel how hard my cock is for you, baby?” he grumbled into your ear, forearms snaking around your waist, pulling you even further into him. “Can't wait to sink into your pretty pussy, make you feel so good. You want that?” he groaned, pressing his lips just under your ear. You did want that, but his desperation became your entertainment. 

You wanted to see just how far he would go.

“We go home now, I’ll make you feel so good. Promise, baby.”

“Fuck— come with me to the bathroom, please, baby. Need you so bad.” 

“I’ll take you right here. Need you. Can’t stop thinking about you around my cock” —that one got a laugh out of you. 

Your final bout of entertainment for the night was when he disappeared for far too long. You spared a perfunctory glance around for him, but you knew where he was— you knew where he was off to as soon as his hips left yours, parting himself from you with a quick kiss to your cheek and a totally incomprehensible mumble of where he was going.

The heels of your shoes tapping on the tiled floor of the empty men’s bathroom give you away instantly. A regretful ‘fuck’ echoes from one of the stalls, sounding very sorry for being caught.  

“Eddie,” you say calmly, stopping outside of the stall door. “What are you doing in there?”

“Nothing,” he replies, but his breathiness is incriminating. 

“Nothing? You gonna let me in?”

The quick clank of the lock and the door fervently swinging open doesn’t surprise you. Inside stands a rosy cheeked Eddie with his pants undone, resting low on his hips, and his shirt tucked into the twisted band of his boxers, clearly having just been pulled up. Balled up in his right fist, your underwear. 

“Really?” you laugh. He’s quick to reach forward, hands on your waist pulling you into the stall with him. 

His lips meet yours with a desperate force behind them. You indulge him in the kiss, letting him have this small victory.

“It hurts, baby. Need you so bad. Not fair,” he says pulling away, attaching his lips to your neck.

“Not fair?” 

“Yeah, you took your panties off right in front of me and expected me to just go out and not be hard as a fucking rock,” he mumbles against your skin. “Got me worked up all night,” he nearly whines in your ear as his hands glide low on your hips, squeezing before tugging at the material of your dress.

“Poor baby,” you coo, weaving your fingers into his hair. 

“Mhmm, you gonna help me out, sweetheart?” he asks lowly, punctuating his sentiment with a gentle suck on the sensitive skin just under your ear. His hands stay busy, feeling and squeezing under the hem of your dress before you hear a whimper in his throat, most likely due to your lack of an answer. 

“Need me that badly?” you purr amusedly.

“Fuck, need you so bad,” he groans. 

“So badly you want to fuck me in a dirty men’s bathroom?”

“So badly I was about to rub one out in a dirty men’s bathroom.”

“That’s pretty desperate, huh?” You tease but he doesn’t play into it, far too caught up in the haze of his lust.

“Really desperate,” he mumbles against your skin.

“I must be so mean,” you say, pouting out your lower lip mawkishly, playing up your tone to be taunting. 

“I love you,” he replies, words coming out as a whined plea as he kisses along your pulse point. He loves you, you know it, but you also know he’s playing every card in his deck to win you over right now. 

“How about this, my desperate boy, you bring me home and then you can have me? I’ll be all yours. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” he hums, continuing his kisses down your neck, dragging his teeth along your collarbone before sucking it harshly, making you gasp. 

“Baby, you’re prolonging your torture, I’m not fucking you in here,” you laugh breathily, tugging slightly at the roots of his hair. Eddie groans before abruptly pulling away, taking your hand and briskly walking out of the stall.

“Eddie!” you laugh more wholesomely. He hums, turning to look at you, dark eyes curious. He takes a step closer to you but you shake your head, focusing your attention on his still open pants.

“Silly boy, you can’t go out there showing off everything you got, that’s only for me,” you tease, moving your hands to his front. 

You run a hand over the damp spot on his boxers, slyly stroking the head of his cock with your thumb as you tuck him back into his pants. A hiss climbs in his throat as you button him up, pulling the zipper, and loosely buckling his belt. 

“My poor baby,” you coo teasingly, placing a hand on his heated cheek, smoothing his hair back. Eddie looks at you, nothing but desire and adoration in his eyes as he hums a quiet agreement. “I love you,” you smile, before reconnecting your hands, setting Eddie back onto his one track mind, tugging you out of the bathroom. 

The ride home was near silent. You’d think you did something wrong if it wasn’t for the strong standing bulge in his jeans. That, and how quickly he pulled up in front of the house, got out of the van, and ushering you inside.

As soon as you stumble through the bedroom door, he has you pinned to the wall. His lips attached to yours, the jitters of lust pulsing through the both of you. Before you get too carried away, you pull away, smiling at Eddie. His blown out pupils stare back at you with an exasperated degree of eagerness— you decide to test his patience anyways.

“One thing, Eddie. You get to take one thing off me.” You tease gently, reminding him of how the night began. 

He scoffs, blinking back his lust as he humors you. Pulling your underwear from his back pocket again, he dangles them for you to see. “I already got my one thing, but I think you’re still a little overdressed.”

“It is better to be underdressed, isn’t it?” you laugh, impressed by his listening skills.

“Absolutely,” he grins.

His hands trail down your body, grabbing the hem of your dress a final time for the night before tugging it over your head. He takes care in undressing you— more care than a man who’s been hard for the whole night should, and it makes you love him even more for it. Every other aspect of your outfit shed, Eddie has you the perfect degree of underdressed.

You do the same for him, stripping him down to be equally underdressed, pressing soft kisses on each newly exposed part of skin. Kiss after innocent kiss, he grows anything but, and his hands wander with growing neediness. His eyes flare with excitement when you look at him and you can’t help but feel your own feverishness building. He walks you back to the bed, guiding you down with him.

“Want you on your knees, pretty girl, need to see your ass on full display for me,” he says, grabbing at your hips and flipping you before you can even get a hand on the mattress. He brings your hips up high, holding you, giving you time to stabilize yourself. You put a deep arch in your back, the way you know he likes.

His hands smooth over the expanse of your behind, gliding low from the crease under your ass, all the way to your lower back.

“Teasing me all night knowing this was just under your little dress and I couldn’t have it,” he says in a low grumble. 

“All yours now, Eddie,” you reply sweetly, humming as he rubs higher on your back before gliding low again.

“Mhm, all mine.” He grips harshly, squeezing your ass before his hand draws from you, only to meet your skin again in a welcomed crack to your rounded cheek.  

He does it once, slapping you just to watch the rippled tides roll over your flesh from the impact. He does it again, slapping the other side to match. A third and final time, he delivers the crack of a slap to your plump cheek solely for being the premise of his night long desperation. It has you reeling, nearly asking for more until his hands massage over the flushed skin, soothing you gently. You let out a quiet moan, enjoying the tender caress. 

“Look at that, she’s already soaked for me. Had a good time teasing me, huh?” He says, canting your hips forward and running his fingers through your folds.

“Mhm.” You moan, pushing back into his touch. 

“Bet if I kept you there a little longer, you would have let me fuck you in the men’s bathroom.”

“Uh-uh.” You disagree, shaking your head into the mattress.

“No?” he questions condescendingly. He sinks two of his fingers inside of your cunt, the squelched sound of your wetness mixing with his low laugh. “I don’t believe you, look at this— look at how wet you are,” he says, curving his fingers inside of you, making your breath stutter. His other hand rubs even strokes along your skin, working you up even further. “So wet, just for me, right?”

“Just for you, Eddie. Always just for you.”

“That’s what I like to hear, my good girl.” He pulls his fingers out from you, rubbing his wet fingertips over your clit, making you jolt forward at the initial contact but his other hand grips harshly on your hip, bringing you right back to him.

He rubs slow circles on your clit and your breathing quickly turns erratic. You knew you were having fun teasing Eddie all night, but you hadn’t realized the full extent that it had worked you up until now, when just the slightest attention has your insides running hot and stomach tensing harshly. He continues his slow motions on your clit, and you careen into it.

“Eddie, m’so close already,” you say, voice coming out breathy. He speeds up his maneuvers and your back unconsciously arches even deeper, opening yourself up further to him. 

“Yeah? Barely even done anything yet, baby, and you already wanna cum for me?” he goads, sounding all too cocky for someone who spent the night begging to fuck you, but he already has you— you’re entirely his for the bending and he knows it.

“Mhm, want to cum please,” you answer, tilting your head to lie it into the mattress, making a sorry attempt at catching a glimpse of Eddie. 

“N’aw isn’t that sweet. My girl teases me all night then wants to cum right away. Such a sweetheart as always,” he says, staying strong in his arrogant attitude but it only spurs on your pleasure, adding heat to your simmering belly. 

“E-Eddie,” you stutter through your tensing muscles as you teeter on the cusp of cumming. You feel your high approaching, getting so close, only to be ripped away when Eddie stops abruptly, making you whine, sinking your face into the bed in defeat.

Eddie laughs lowly, a hand grazing your lower back. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, told you I’d make you feel good,” he says, sounding pleased with himself. His hand on your lower back trails down to your ass again, squeezing once more. 

You hear the mattress shuffle before you feel his tongue on your cunt, both hands now gripping your cheeks harshly, spreading you open for him. The initial contact makes you gasp before you settle into a pleased moan.

The warmth of his mouth on your already heated core and the strategic lapping of his tongue puts you in a state of gasping for air very quickly. The rigidity in your muscles rapidly works its way back in, and your growing pleasure is swiftly picking up where it left off. Swirling his tongue in and out of your entrance, all you can do is grind back, reveling in the feeling.

“Eddie, feels so good,” you say breathily. He groans into your cunt, the speed of his tongue increasing tenfold turning you into a moaning mess.

He works his way down to your clit, closing his lips around the little bud, sucking harshly. He pushes his face further into you, nose just barely dipping into your hole and your whole body washes over in a tingle that draws all the air from your lungs. His suckling has you jerking forward, but his grip rounds to the front of your thighs, pulling you right back into him— pushing you straight into your orgasm.

Your hips jolt, bucking back and forth in Eddie’s firm hold. When the edges of your vision blur, you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your whole body reign in jolts of electricity that shudder throughout you— all at the mercy of Eddie's tongue. 

When your gasping breaths turn into high pitched whines, he releases your clit, lapping at you messily, the wetness making obscene noises. He groans into you, loosening his grip, running his hands back around your hips, squeezing your ass in his hands again. He slows his tongue, bringing you down from your orgasm, letting you suck in a much needed breath. 

When he finally draws from you, you feel him jiggle your ass, obviously having too much fun playing with it while you’re busy gathering your wits.

“Eddie. So good, felt so good,” you say through gasps of air. Your body feels limp, the only thing keeping you up is Eddie’s grip stabilizing you and the side of your head smashed into the blanket— arms reduced to pure jelly.

“Told you I’d make you feel good, baby,” he says softly, rubbing a hand up your spine. The gentle touch makes you shiver and goosebumps erupt all over your body. Eddie laughs softly and his grip loosen, letting you fall slightly before he’s guiding you to lay on your back.

You catch his gaze and he flashes a cute smile, your favourite smile of his. In its boyish charm, it never fails to make your heart melt for him. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” he whispers, moving up your body to hover over you.

“Love you, Eddie.”

“Love you too, my perfect girl,” he replies, pressing a slick coated kiss to your lips.

His kiss starts out tender and loving but with how tonight has gone, it’s not long before it’s messy, all teeth and tongue and desperation. 

When you spread your thighs wider, letting him drop further into you, he pulls back catching your gaze. “You ready for my cock, baby?” he asks, hand cupping your jaw as he looks at you. His thumb rubs back and forth against your skin and you pout your lip out in pure adoration for him.

“Want it so bad,” you whine. He smiles again, patting your cheek gently before moving to snake his hand between your bodies. 

“Yeah?” he hums, adjusting himself over top of you. “Been waiting to feel you all night, pretty girl.”

You feel as he glides the head of his cock through your slicked folds, gathering your wetness before he lines himself up with your entrance. “Perfect pussy, worth waiting for,” he says under his breath, making you smile. He pushes in and your smile immediately turns into your mouth dropping, brows furrowing upwards as he stretches you perfectly.

“F-fuck,” Eddie curses as he bottoms out inside of you, a low rumble growing in his chest as he stills, sucking in harsh breaths. “Got me so close already from teasing all night,” he groans, his own brows pinching as he collects himself, not wanting to blow his load immediately.

All you can do is hum, feeling lost in the swirls of pleasure while simultaneously searching for more, mindlessly grinding your hips into Eddie’s.  

“Baby,” Eddie says, voice cracking into a whimper as his hand grabs your hip, stilling you.

“Feels so good, Eddie.” You breathe, writhing in the sheets. Eddie leans forward, his chest pressing to yours and you gladly take the opportunity to wrap your hands around his back, arching off the bed to grind your hips better despite him already warning you once.

Eddie exhales deeply, calming himself from your movements before speaking. “Nuh-uh. Gotta let me do all the work, pretty girl.” He admonishes gently, with a kiss on your lips. You huff a restless breath and Eddie presses another kiss to your cheek before slowly drawing his hips from yours. 

The drag out is slow, the slowest thing about tonight because after that, Eddie pushes in quickly, punching all the air from your lungs. He knows he’s got you worked up. He knows your second orgasm always comes faster. He’s fucking you the way he knows you like it, but he’s chasing his desperation, seeking the pleasure he’s been soughting for all night.

His hips meet yours with a fervent force, nudging your clit with each roll, stroking your g-spot in a deliberate way that comes to him naturally from knowing you so well. It doesn’t take long for your body to wash over in a prickled tension, leaving you moaning and whimpering for him.

Eddie’s lively pace leaves him just as reactive, his groans and deep grunts harmonizing with your high pitched mewls. His hand grazes your side, palm rounding over your breast, squeezing it self-indulgently. He massages it lustily with the intention of just feeling you— feeling the way your chest rises as you desperately fill your lungs with air just for it to sink so deeply with each whined exhale that he feels the roaring pound of your heart within your ribcage beneath his grasp.

His eager thrusts drive you up the brink of pleasure, head filled with only thoughts of how good your body feels and the man who’s orchestrating it all. Rightfully so, the only thing coming from your mouth is gasps of his name coming out like short pleas. 

“Fuck, baby. Feels so good.” He says through a strangled breath. “Can feel you squeezing me tight, gonna cum for me again?” He asks, his voice pitching up the faintest bit, signaling you to his onset release. Like a Pavlovian response, it triggers the rigidity in your body— tension spreading from the curl of your toes all the way up to your open set jaw and furrowed brows. 

“Eddie—” you start, your own heavy breath cutting you off with a broken cry as your pleasure hits its peak.

“I know, baby.” He coos, the edge of his face meeting yours as he breaths hot air into the crook of your neck. 

Your hands grasp at his back, pulling yourself closer to him as all your muscles flex and tighten. Another roll of his hips sets you off, body erupting in spasms, hips jolting beneath his. You feel your body become weightless, a misted daze of euphoria setting in your consciousness as he brings you through your orgasm with each meteoric jerk of his hips.

Eddie grumbles low words against your skin, but in your hazy head, they fall upon deaf ears. When his hips stutter, you know exactly what he was trying to tell you.

“Cum for me, Eddie.” You say, mustering up all of the energy and oxygen in your body to produce such a pitiful whimper, but it’s enough to seduce his release. 

His hips press flush to yours and the subtlety of warmth fills you up. Riding his orgasm out with slowed, shallow thrusts, his low, breathy whimpers echo into your ear from where he’s pressed himself firmly into your skin. 

Movements becoming kinetic jolts, he slowly comes to a halt and his sticky chest connects completely to yours. Dropping his weight onto you, the added pressure lures you through the last stretch of settling back down onto earth from your clouded rapture. 

Heartbeat to heartbeat, you both lay still, gathering your breaths. This is one of your favourite moments; the comedown, where you’re both so synchronized, shared pulses constellating you together. If Eddie didn’t already have your heart entirely, moments like now would be what steals it.

His breathing evens out, but gains a particular heaviness to it that you know he gets when he’s extra tired. Your poor baby. 

Gliding your hand up his back and weaving your fingers through his hair has him rousing, pressing a chaste kiss on your neck before pushing himself up with an accompanying deep groan. He rolls off you, with a content sigh. 

“Come cuddle closer.” He says softly, arms already pulling at you. He tugs you into his chest, pressing you snug to him.

You let out your own happy sigh, body still feeling tingly. Eddie twirls a piece of your hair in his fingers, and looking over to him, his eyes have fluttered shut, his face set in a relaxed expression. 

You shuffle in closer, bringing a hand to his chest and drawing little circles in his skin, and he lets out another content sigh.

“Feeling better?” you ask, pressing your chin to his chest to see him better. His eyes open and warm brown greets you, showering you with a tender gaze. 

“After all that teasing, yeah,” he says, flashing you a grin.

“Good. I’m glad.” you say, laughing softly. 

“I think you gotta teach me more of those fashion tips, baby,” he says with the faint rise of a smirk. 

“Oh yeah?” you question, smiling as you wonder what he’s getting at.

“Yeah, that was fun,” he says, widening his eyes for emphasis. 

Tilting your head at him, you give him an exaggerated questioning look. “I thought it wasn’t fair?” you tease. 

“Oh not fair at all,” he grins. “If you do that’s again, we’re absolutely fucking before we go out.”

“Before?” you say, dropping your mouth in a faux bewilderment. 

“Before and after,” he says with a wink. 

“Lucky me,” you tease, raising your brows at him.

“Lucky me,” he corrects with a smirk, bringing a hand up to your face, pushing your hair back before pinching your nose gently between his thumb and pointer finger. 

You scrunch your nose, escaping his teasing gesture by hiding your face in his chest. “And it’s all thanks to Coco Chanel,” you laugh. He brings his hand to the back of your head, smoothing your hair down in a tender gesture. 

“All thanks to Coco Chanel,” he agrees.

—

[demetrivolturisgirly]

Eternal life| Demetri volturi x reader.

warnings: smut, choking, female orgasm.

“pretty girl- did you really think you’d get away with that?”

Demetri had her pinned against the wall with his hand around her throat- fingers squeezing the warm skin with ease as he forced her to look into his eyes, the once beautiful shade of red had become sullen and burgundy.

his fingers gave another squeeze as he awaited an answer but she couldn’t form one, only looking at him with big eyes as she clamped her thighs together as the familiar warmth of arousal crept between her legs.

“use your words, little one”

his voice was like silk as he whispered into her ear as he brought his face closer to hers, pressing his nose into her temple as he breathed in her scent deeply: lavender and vanilla.

Demetri almost forgot why he was furious with his mate as he breathed her in, she smelt heavenly and he knew she tasted of heaven too.

“i’m sorry” she whispered with big eyes, cloudy with lust and excitement as she chewed on her bottom lip, desperately trying to buck her hips into his, grinding down onto his thigh that was placed inbetween her dripping core.

he only stared down at her with a smirk and lewd look in his eyes.

it wasn’t her intention to make him jealous or angry with her in the slightest, she had laughed at something one of the lower guards had said, it was unintentionally funny and she couldn’t stop the melodic giggle that escaped her mouth and unfortunately for her, her mate didn’t take too kindly to her having any sort of interaction with someone beneath his stature, let alone another man.

“la mia bellissima ragazza” he whispered in her ear, the sweet sound of his voice sent shockwaves straight to her pulsing core, the wetness between her legs seeped further down flesh of her thighs.

the sweet girl called out her lovers name, batting her disney eyes as his name fell loosely out of her mouth and within seconds, her mates eyes softened as he stared down at her lovingly.

Demetri’s eyes gazed over her human features, the hand that was once around her throat had begun to caress her rosy cheeks, stroking his thumb sweetly over the soft skin of her face as she stared at him with those beautiful doe eyes he adored.

he traced the pad of his finger alongside the grin she wore as she peppered a kiss on the tip of finger before letting her tongue run over it, almost as if she was testing the waters. he didn’t want to play games but he couldn’t deny the giddy feeling that bubbled within him as he watched his beloved and her filthy fascination with his hands.

Demetri gave his mate a knowing look, his eyes glaring down at her with such awe and lust as he watched her elope his finger, the warmth of her tongue coaxing around his cold skin, it was enough for him to let out a little moan.

“such a naughty girl” he said to her as he removed his finger from her mouth with a pop, she was quick to swallow her whine as he took a step back from her, drinking in her disheveled appearance. he hadn’t even touched her and she was a trembling mess.

“please” the sweet girl pleaded as she reached for her immortal, tugging at the front of his open shirt in desperation.

Demetri looked at her with hungry eyes and laughed at her, taking another step back.

the further he drew himself from her, the more he could see her quivering figure, he hadn’t even touched her and she was falling apart and he loved to see it. “please” she repeated, clenching her thighs together in want.

“beg” was all Demetri said.

Demetri smiled cruelly at her as he held out his hand for her to grab, which she did, he ran his thumb over her supple flesh as he pulled her towards the bed, shoving her down gently so her face was buried in the silk sheets.

she looked up at him once again, her eyes wide and teary as she begged him to have his way with her. she spoke honeyed words, telling him how she wouldn’t look in the direction of another man again and he knew she wouldn’t but he couldn’t let the fun be over with this quickly.

Demetri looked at his lover in awe, his eyes filled with admiration as he reached down to grab onto her, his hands caressing at her skin gently, rubbing the curves of her waist as he dipped his face low enough to capture her lips in a kiss.

“need you- so bad” she whimpered against his mouth, trying her best to turn her neck into him.

Demetri let out a low growl at the taste of her lips. he would never get enough of her taste, she was like a forbidden fruit, the sweetest in the garden.

her tongue danced with his, the lewd sound of them kissing echoed around their chambers, along with her soft moans and whimpers as he pulled away from her so she could catch her breath. she was human after all.

Demetri wasted no time in having his face between her thighs, lapping at her sweetness, throwing head back in ecstasy as her lover drank up her slick. his arms wrapped around the back of her thighs, nails digging slightly into her pale skin as she arched her body into his touch.

his lover cried out in pure bliss as her orgasm neared, clenching her hole around Demetri’s fingers as they teased at her tightness.

“that’s it my love, let go” Demetri whispered against her pussy, watching in adoration as she let herself become undone from his touch.

Demetri moaned at her taste, quick to swallow every drop of her essence as it began to drip from her, she quivered under his touch, legs shaking as she tried to grasp her breath from the insatiable pleasure she had just encountered.

he pressed a chaste kiss to her inner thigh, and then her hip, kissing all way up to her body until he got to her face. she let out a giggle as she wrapped her hands around her mates head, tugging at the ends of his hair gently.

“you aren’t done are you?” she teased him, letting her lips drag across his throat, nipping slightly at his stone skin.

“only just getting started” he growled as he pulled her in for a harsh kiss, his eyes completely black as he looked down at her.

it didn’t take her long to beg again, wanting to feel him inside of her, filling her up, over and over until she passed out from exhaustion.

Demetri let out a deep chuckle, laughing at his needy girl as she tugged the shirt of his body with shaky hands, he was quick to stop her, bringing her fingers to his mouth as he kissed the tips of them sweetly.

“patience principessa. we’ve got eternity”

and that you did. it wasn’t going to be long before you became like him, he wanted to cherish moments like this whilst you were still human.

the distant memory of why he was angry at her was forgotten as he revelled in the beauty of his sweet girl.

[dollivication]

DANTE SPARDA REFERENCE POST - whats it like?: eating him out/eating you out dmc 4, 5

cw: nsfw

It’s a known fact that Dante can be a very messy person. Just take a look at his office, and you’ll find empty pizza boxes and papers all over the place. He doesn’t care for tidiness, not really.

So when he’s eating your pussy, he is practically drowning himself in your arousal. The half-demon will slide his hands beneath your ass, kneading at the flesh as he shoves your sopping wet cunt into his face. His nose will bump your clit multiple times, shaking his head slightly with a deep hum just to see you squirm from the vibrations and additional friction. How fucking adorable.

Blue eyes are crinkled in sadistic amusement as he soaks in each and every one of your little moans, tongue delving as deep as possible, the muscle punching at your gummy walls. Don’t underestimate him just because his mouth’s too busy in order to make his little quips. To make up for the lack of teasing, Dante will slap your ass, forcing you to grind down on his face as his five o’clock shadow kisses your thighs. 

Not sure if you’re capable of squirting? Don’t worry—Dante will help you find out! If the first time is fruitless, he’ll only keep diving back in even when you try pushing his head away. Tug on his hair just like that, lift his silvery bangs so he can see your cute teary-eyed face in its glory. He'll only chuckle, knowing very well it was just going to get worse for you, the stinging sensation on his scalp spurring him on further.

But you can take a few more rounds, right? No? Well, that was too damn bad, because he wasn’t going to let you go until you leave him drenched him in your release. 

….When it comes to eating him out, you should be warned; it doesn’t take much to please him, no. He’s just greedy. 

He’s laying down, the back of his head propped up by a few pillows to watch you work. There is an ache in your jaw from the extended period of having to keep your tongue out, but you’re in no position to complain—Not when you have very little control over your movements, all guided by Dante as he shamelessly rolled his hips on your mouth, groaning with little to no shame. Truthfully, the male did not care if anyone could hear him. The way your tongue fucked into his ass completely distracted him from any worries he might have had—not that there were any in the first place.

One of his hands will grip his cock, fisting it angrily. The smug bastard will peer down at you with a lopsided smile, his bottom lip caught by his fang. 

“That’s it, sweetheart..” Dante grunted, followed by a laugh as he took in the sight of your flushed face. His hand went to clutch at your own locks, only forcing you closer.

“C’mon, you can do better than that. Deeper, honey, there you go—Oh, fuuuck.. Just like that..” 

The only time he’ll have mercy is when he pulls you back, smacking his weeping cock on your cheek a few times as his pre-cum left specks behind on the rosy skin. Use this time wisely, catch your breath, because there was no telling when this opportunity would occur again.

“Spit,” he’ll speak with nonchalance, simply parting his legs further to expose his puckered hole, the mere sight of his throbbing cock and opening working to convey his desires far louder than any words. And of course you’ll abide, because you’re a good girl. His good girl.

Nothing gets him going more than seeing your mouth all shiny from your own saliva, smearing it on his asshole as you licked at the spot with such fervor. Compliments and jeers blend together as they spew from his lips, his eyes fluttering at such sinful enthusiasm he wasn’t aware someone like you could be guilty of.

A few more pumps of his thick cock, and the man bucks his hips, his cum is cascading down the lengths of it, coating his balls in a sticky warmth. The dribbling fluid meets your taste buds, mixing with your spit to form the filthiest concoction. “Shit.. hah..”

…“Did so good for me,” Dante praised, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he attempted to catch his breath. But instead of his grip loosening, it only tightened on you.

“But I think there’s some room for improvement, don’t you?” He mused. “On your back, baby.. Let’s try something new, yeah?”

…You weren’t going anywhere for a while, it seemed. 

[lelengerine]

flustered by you

pairing | streamer!haechan x streamer!reader

synopsis | your boyfriend surely knows how to make you flustered, even when he’s the one who should be.

genre | established relationship, fluff, nicknames are used for reader (baby, love, lovie)

wc | 0.5k

notes | the istj teaser photos will be my final straw fr,, like have you SEEN them??? anw, here’s another one for all you streamer/gamer hyuck enthusiasts out there :> lmk your thoughts on this hehe likes are rbs are always appreciated!

m.list

"baby, did you take the switch by chance? i was going to play a game with jeno downstairs-" haechan’s fluffy locks peek out from your room’s door frame, his voice in a slight hurry to return to his friend.

"hm?" you hum from your desk, your mind currently preoccupied with placing blocks down in your minecraft world. "one second."

you were trying to finish a minecraft building before the stream you had planned for later in the afternoon so you could show chat some progress of the village layout you have in mind from behind the scenes. 

the foundations of an elegant, overgrown church had already been placed — a little more work put into it and the vision you had for the building would finally take shape.

"um, i think i used it the other day. let me look for it." you pull off the earphones that rest snugly on your head, setting them down gently on your desk before getting up to find the game console.

"take your time, love. i’ll just take a lookie at what you’re making." he happily makes himself at home on your gaming chair, pretending to thoroughly inspect your work. "hey! this is pretty cute."

"mhm! it’s where we’re getting married!" you beam excitedly whilst searching your drawers, not realizing what you said until the words had already been uttered out. "uh i mean, if you wanted to get married- in game of course! not in real life that’d be silly-"

your cheeks were burning hot from the embarrassment of slipping your words out before thinking, quickening your movement even further to find the switch your boyfriend had originally came for, a small moment of eureka hitting you when you do. 

"anyways! i found the switch." you laugh with an awkward tension engulfing it, "you should get back to jeno now, i think he’s been waiting for a while-"

"let’s get married." haechan abruptly states, his eyes still glued to the pearly-looking church you made. "in game of course." he adds in a snicker, teasing you with your own words from earlier.

"quit it, lee." you whine, handing him the switch with a sulky frown growing on your lips. "not funny. didn't giggle."

he gratefully takes the device from your hands, wordlessly standing up to press a kiss onto your lips in hopes of wiping that frown away.

"you can’t sway me with kisses!" you argue, failing to hide the smile that makes you feel like a fool completely in love. well, technically you are one after randomly blurting out the idea of marriage to your boyfriend because of a video game.

"uhuh, sure i can’t." he laughs, ruffling your hair as he utters a ‘thank you’ for your help, now on his way to exit your room. 

"oh, by the way, i’d really marry you any day, lovie!" he speedily announces before closing your door behind him, leaving you in a speechless, dumbfounded trance that has you giggling; the smile on your lips only getting amplified by how rosy your cheeks have become. 

"gosh, i can’t believe him." you mumble, sending a light slap to your cheek in hopes it’d suppress the smile on your face since you still had that build project in line for the day. still, there’s a new-found determination that runs through your veins. you’re definitely getting married – at least in minecraft – no matter what.

[1d1195]

Zipper Extra VII

As much as I love this couple, I struggled to come up with an idea for this so I hope this works.

~3.5k words

“I want it to be perfect,” she whispered.

“For whom, m’love?” He wondered. “For me? You’re there. We could get married in trash bags and be married by an alien,” he reminded her making her smile so gorgeously it made Harry’s heart skip a beat.

Harry was losing his mind again.

There was a ring on her finger and somehow that made her more enticing to the men that saw her in public. At the coffee shop, Harry would look at the different roasts to take home and someone would immediately start chatting with her asking to buy her coffee unaware that Harry was only a few feet away. Of course she stopped them politely, explained her fiancé was right there. “Oh, I didn’t even notice the ring,” the man murmured, further turning Harry green with envy.

When they were at the grocery store, the bagger insisted on lifting her items and offered to take them to her car while Harry headed back to grab something they inevitably forgot. Once more she assured the man that her fiancé was more than capable of doing so. “Hmm...I didn’t see your ring,” he admitted.

Of course they didn’t.

Why would anyone bother to look away from her pretty face for even a second to see if she was happily taken?

It soured Harry’s mood immensely. Naturally, she was kind about it on the ride home. She didn’t speak about it at all, merely held his hand as he drove and gave it a gentle squeeze every couple of minutes. She would tell him all about her ideas for their wedding; how she wanted sunset colors for her bouquet: peach, golden yellow, some light orange colors, sprigs of purple, and rosy pinks. “I think it will offset the blue dresses the girls will wear really nicely,” she explained.

He typically grunted in response still feeling frustrated over how someone blatantly flirted with her. It shouldn’t have surprised him. She was so pretty and so nice. It was a wonder Harry didn’t resort to physical fights. Eventually after a few grunts she would finally ask. “Do you have any ideas of what you want? I’ve been struggling with a seating arrangement plan. I see lots of cool things on Pinterest, but nothing really speaks to me.”

Almost always it worked. Harry would clear his throat, forced to answer her question. He had to forget about the jealousy that filled him because he would rather die than not help his fiancée with whatever it was she wanted. “M’not too sure,” he murmured. “What are the options?” Because he was not going to be one of those men who did nothing to help plan. She went through hundreds of different options and questions. They were pretty agreeable on most fronts.

“Having the seats listed on a mirror is really popular these days. I went to a wedding in college that was on a windowpane and that was cool. I’m really into this thing I saw though it almost looks like a clothesline—little clips hold the cards in place for people to find it.”

Harry could hear the way her voice changed when she talked about the little clothesline. “I like that,” he smiled.

“Yeah? You’re not just saying that?” She always asked.

“No, kitten. Course not,” if he didn’t like it, he would tell her. “I think it’ll be beautiful.”

“I was also thinking about our welcome sign.”

“Hmm?”

Harry knew she was trying to trick him into feeling less jealous the longer she spoke. It worked too. “I’ve been trying to come up with something punny. Finally found ‘you’ve been sentenced to a lifetime of happiness,’” she giggled. Harry snorted and shook his head. “Is that lame?” He glanced at her peripherally as they pulled onto their apartment’s street.

“Not if y’want it, love,” he assured her.

“I know, but I want you—”

“I think it’s adorable,” he pulled into a spot on the street and parked. He turned to her finally, gazing into her soft, pretty eyes. He looked at her lips and brought his hand to her face admiring how warm her skin felt beneath his palm. She was so pretty every moment of the day it was incredible she was all his to admire.

“It’ll have a gavel below the words, and I want it to be decorated with the flowers we pick,” she continued.

“You’ve already made the sale, kitten,” he chuckled, brushed his thumb on her lip.

“I want it to be perfect,” she whispered.

“For whom, m’love?” He wondered. “For me? You’re there. We could get married in trash bags and be married by an alien,” he reminded her making her smile so gorgeously it made Harry’s heart skip a beat.

“Well,” she sighed. “When you put it that way.”

“M’sorry m’a jealous monster,” he whispered quietly.

She blushed below his hand, and she glanced from his uninterrupted gaze. “I don’t think you’re a monster. I don’t think you have anything to be jealous of either.”

He smiled; pressed his lips to her forehead and nodded. “Probably not, but can’t help it,” he shrugged. “M’sorry.”

“I would probably tear a girl’s eyes out if she even looked at you.”

Harry laughed loudly. “I would never make y’jealous, kitten. Ever. But I would love t’see that.”

*

It was going to be a spring wedding. Spring in the loosest sense of the word. It was going to be on the first day of spring but there was no way of knowing if it would be a warm spring day or a holdover of a cold winter day.

It didn’t bother her much planning most of it. Everyone in her life told her a thousand different things that made her anxious and sick of hearing the difference of opinions when the only opinion she cared about was Harry’s.

“I want to show you my dress so bad,” she told him while they snuggled on the couch watching a movie.

He smiled. “I can’t wait t’see it, kitten. Gonna look like an angel,” he kissed the top of her head.

She buried her face into his side. “I don’t know about angel,”

He chuckled. “Course y’will, love. Y’look like an angel every day,” he reminded her.

She laughed, muffled by his ribcage. If she had the ability to tell her younger self she would one day be engaged to Harry Styles she didn’t think there was a world in which she would have believed it. But right beside him, calling her an angel. It seemed like the surest thing to ever bet on.

*

“Mom,” she sighed rubbing her forehead. Harry was walking in the door, a box of cupcakes for tasting. He picked them up after a long day of work. She could see the exhaustion on his face. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair had that look that he ran his hand through it too many times.

On the table was a giant poster board filled with sticky notes that was supposed to keep them organized in planning but felt like a full-time job some nights.

Her mom was talking in her ear about how her uncle wanted to bring his new girlfriend despite the fact his ex-wife was going to be there, and they did not get along. “Mom, it’s my wedding!” She was practically bubbling with tears. Harry rushed over, missing the counter as he put the box down, which left the cupcakes smeared on the floor in the process. Harry looked at the box like it was the box’s fault but feeling shame that it was his own doing.

Her jaw dropped in shock, unable to believe the chaos that seemed to creep in every moment the closer it got to the wedding. It was only four months away and they had already been planning for so long. While she looked at the ruined cupcakes, she listened to her mom try to reason with her that it was what you were supposed to do at a wedding. They could rearrange everyone when the time came so that everyone was happy.

“Mom, I have to call you back,” she mumbled and hung up without another word. Poor exhausted Harry looked at the cupcakes.

“Fuck, m’sorry, kitten,” he frowned. “I thought y’were going t’cry and I just wanted t’make sure y’didn’t...I can call and ask for another dozen and go get them right now—”

“Can we get married this weekend?” She looked at him nervously. “Please?” She whispered.

His voice felt broken. They had been planning for nearly a year. A wedding that they were grateful to afford because so many could not have the elaborate wedding they were planning. One that had everything they wanted. But even in their own planning, it was their wedding and yet it was still dissolving into anxiety and madness. It was supposed to be in front of all their friends and family. “But what ‘bout—”

“We can do that one too, but I’m going crazy. You’re going crazy,” her voice cracked. “I just want to be your wife. I don’t care about any of this anymore,” she whispered.

“Kitten,” he cooed.

“I know I’m crazy but if one more person asks if they can bring their child after I specifically said no children I’m going to scream,” she sniffled.

“Baby,” he frowned. “Please don’t cry,” he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “I know s’overwhelming but I want you t’have—”

“Then please marry me. This weekend,” she repeated into his shirt.

“How on earth could I say no to you?” He asked rhetorically.

*

Angelic was insulting compared to how beautiful she looked. In fact, there wasn’t a word to describe how perfect that dress looked on her. It literally stole Harry’s breath away. “Breathe,” Louis muttered to him as she entered. His voice felt frozen, and he wondered how on earth he was going to get through vows.

Louis was the only person they told. He closed the office down for the night. Told everyone that planned on working on a Saturday evening that they couldn’t. Something about buffing the floors or tenting for fumigation. But really, Louis was going to marry them as a recently registered online-ordained clerk. They were getting married in Harry’s office because that’s where she told Harry she loved him for the first time. She walked the short distance from the door to where Louis and Harry had moved his desk to the side so they could get married in the setting sunlight. There were a few bouquets of flowers that Harry thought would match the theme of their other wedding in a couple short months.

She held a similar bouquet in her hands. Harry thought she looked like an ancient goddess of sunlight and flowers. Her dress was A-line in structure. A plunging neckline with intricate floral lace on the bodice without any sparkle. The floral lace faded into the flowy skirt and against the setting sun, she looked golden against the pure white dress. She was the most precious thing he had ever seen. She was completely right; he was desperate to see her in this dress. Waiting another few months would have been sinful.

“Hi,” Harry smiled as she stood in front of him.

“Hi,” she giggled. “It doesn’t fit right because it still needs to be altered,” she told him and showed off the back that had a similar plunging neckline but against her back. “I stole all our chip clips,” she smiled excitedly. Harry laughed and shaking his head at her and her adorable antics. “And I won’t have my hair like this.”

Harry hadn’t even noticed that she had her hair down naturally as she always wore it. Her makeup was the same as he saw it each day. Yet somehow it was even more beautiful. “I think y’should,” he murmured.

“Oh?” She smiled. Nodding he scanned her up and down unable to believe she was all his. In a few moments she would be his wife for the rest of their lives and beyond. “You look perfect,” she assured him. Harry always looked handsome. He had plenty of suits due to his job, but there was one he had gotten shortly after getting engaged. He never told her but as she scanned the suit, it fit better than all his other ones, it seemed she realized he got a new one just for this day. Like it was made to be on him and look so perfect on him for this moment.

“Are you ready?” Louis asked quietly. It was their evening, and he didn’t want to spoil it or rush it. But Louis also knew that Harry would spend hours ogling her if he let him.

They both nodded eagerly.

Louis went through the basics, the things that were said at every wedding but they were staring at each other, Harry holding her left hand in both of his while her other hand held her bouquet. “Do you want to do your vows now?” Louis asked.

“I forgot mine,” she admitted.

He shrugged. “They don’t have to be the ones we wrote,” he offered.

She took a deep breath. “Okay, Louis, I’m sorry,” she smiled. He winked at her and she turned her gaze back to Harry. “They’re not going to make any sense if I say them off the top of my head,” she warned.

“S’okay,” he assured her. “M’gonna love you no matter what.”

With another deep breath she started. “I’ve been so lucky to know you since we were kids. Thinking back on it, I’m sure I’ve loved you since we were in college. Having our lives intertwined so obviously seems like fate, in hindsight. But I wouldn’t trade a day of our relationship and every path and twist and hiccup it led us to for anything. There are days where I truly don’t want to do anything but be your wife and just...bask in how perfect it is. I lose all sense of identity and it’s not a bad thing. I am so in love with you it makes me,” she sighed, shaking her head, keeping her gaze on his green eyes that looked golden in the sunlight. “I am so happy to marry you. It might be the best thing I’ve ever done. You make me a better person, you make me happy, you make me feel safe,” she blinked away briefly and laughed. “I didn’t...” she sniffled as she thought of the night that Harry was there to save her and kickstart their romantic relationship. Despite how scared she was at the time; she would be forever grateful for Harry finding her and keeping her safe. Always. “Oops,” she swiped at her cheek and Harry chuckled.

“S’okay,” he promised. She sniffled again, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“I think if I admitted it to myself, I always had a crush on you. Ever since we were young,” he reached for that tear and wiped it away. “You make sure I have medicine when I don’t feel well, and you always make sure I eat. You dance with me in the kitchen, and you don’t mind that I’ve been in pajamas for two days on the weekend. You make me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world,” she paused briefly and squeezed his hand like it was part of the promise she was whispering to him (and Louis). “I’m going to have a crush on you for the rest of our lives and I’m so happy we’re here and I love you very much. I always will. And I will always do everything I can to make you happy.”

Louis looked at Harry pointedly. “I can’t wait to hear what she has to say when she has prep time,” Louis smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes as she giggled, which just made his heart feel warmer than he ever thought possible.

He squeezed her hand. “I feel like I’ve said m’vows a hundred times t’you now. When I told you I loved you for the first time, right here. Then when I proposed. M’going to love you with everything in me. Every single day. M’gonna love you more every day. Somehow. I’ll figure it out, I promise,” he smirked making her giggle. “You mean everything t’me,” he promised. “I don’t care ‘bout money, houses, billable hours, or contracts. The second I think of you, it all goes away. You are my entire world. You make me so happy. Even when I don’t want t’be happy. Y’work tremendously hard t’make our lives easier and happier. T’make me happier. No one has ever done that for me before,” he explained. “I admire you more than anyone on this earth,” her eyes welled with tears again.

“M’going to love you and cherish you and take care of you for as long as we live and then wherever this afterlife takes us,” it truly sounded like a vow. “I want this to be the last time you cry, but seems a bit unrealistic,” he chuckled and wiped at her tears again as she giggled tearily through the words. “M'never going t’be responsible for your sadness, kitten. I promise. M’always going t’be responsible for making y’happy. When y’need me, m’going t’be there. Always. I love you more and more every second and I wish I figured it out sooner than I did,” the only nod to the rough start they had in ages. “But m’glad I figured it out now. Glad I get t’see you in this beautiful dress and hear y’tell me that m’worth it,” he whispered.

“You are,” she mouthed unable to speak.

“I love you,” he repeated. “Forever, and ever.”

Louis cleared his throat awkwardly and shook his head. “Didn’t know you could do that,” he muttered and pinched at the corner of his eyes. She laughed tearily, still but Harry couldn’t help but smile. Louis spoke again, more logistics and legalities. Terms and conditions the pair of them were used to hearing.

Harry was certain he said “I do, I do, I do,” about a hundred times when Louis asked making him and his beautiful girl laugh again.

“And do you take Harry Styles to be your husband?” Louis asked.

Her eyebrows pinched together as she looked at the most perfect man she had ever met. She tilted her head at him. “Are you holding your breath?” She whispered.

“Please say ‘I do,’” he mumbled but he was definitely holding his breath.

She giggled. “I do,” she rolled her eyes. “You idiot.”

“Thank you,” he sighed with relief.

Louis snorted. “Just kiss her already,” he chuckled.

Harry dipped her as if they were dancing in the kitchen at home. His hand unclipping one of the chip clips holding her dress in place. She giggled as his lips sealed over hers. “Congratulations, Mrs. Styles,” he murmured against her mouth when he pulled away slightly.

Louis chuckled, grabbing the clip, and heading for the door to sign the marriage certificate.

She kissed him again, the flowers falling to the floor, and she held his face in both her hands. “I love you, Mr. Styles,” she smiled. She looked so beautiful; it made Harry’s heart ache.

“This was an amazing idea, kitten,” he told her standing her upright, and kissing her again.

“I have those every now and then,” she tucked her face into his chest. Another clip fell off her back.

He laughed and kissed her forehead. “Better get y’home so y’don’t flash Louis on our way out,” he suggested.

She smiled. “Well...I actually brought a change of clothes,” she assured him. “And I may have told Louis to leave the floor locked and leave,” she bit the inside of her lip.

Harry felt warm all over. “Oh?” One of his eyebrows quirked up. His expression hooded as he looked her over.

“I think you got a good view of my dress for now, right? You can wait till spring?” She asked, pulling the last two bag clips off the back of her dress. Without them holding it in place, it draped differently on her body making it fall haphazardly around her torso, dangerously close to revealing some of Harry's favorite physical features of hers.

“I’d like to view it on the floor,” his voice was low and hungry in tone as he scanned her.

She smiled. Turning around, she showed off her zipper. "Unzip me."

--

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zipper: @sunshinextemptress94 @jhughesangel

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

[maehemthemisfit]

hi. this is just some random thought I had abt freminet x reader LMMFSOAJAOANA

you love watching the ocean from afar, but never got the ability to explore it and see what's it like in there. you can't swim at all, if you did try, you'd probably drown. in 20 seconds. ( LMAO. ) watching divers go into the sea, wishing to just be like them. People who knows how to swim. you never knew how to swim— because no one ever got to teach you. though, you always held a polaroid camera with you, taking pictures or using it to see if there's anything new or strange going on.

you thought this whole fascination about the sea was just weird. people thought so too, yet you still continued it. you thought it was hopeless— just as you took a picture of the nearby sea, wanting to keep it as a memory before you leave to go back home. you noticed a person with light hair. you look forward, to see freminet. he was basically drying himself up, you thought to yourself— "Is that a diver?!" with eyes lit up. you never met a diver in your whole life before.

freminet was a distant person. not really like his siblings, not the enjoyer of limelight. but meeting you? who knew someone had that much energy. to even ask him questions ( he walked away at first fr ). yet time passed by, and freminet is still surprised both of you are actually friends.

just as you were asking more questions, freminet got up. you raised an eyebrow, "huh- where are you going?" freminet grabbed his helmet and took your hand, leading you to where the water was. "swimming." you blinked in surprise.. Wait, is he gonna teach you how to finally swim?!

that's it. VAIGSKSHSJSHS A LITTLE LONG BUT WHATEVER 🥲🥲 ENJOY..?

I NEEDED this for real. (I died at the walking away part, mans does not wanna be perceived 😭)

I have so many thoughts about Freminet teaching you how to swim. I think he'll be a decent teacher, very patient and he never lets you get hurt. BUT LIKE, Imagine him teaching a reader who's deathly scared of deep water how to swim, that'll be so entertaining!!

Freminet kind of understood your fear of the ocean, he compares it to his fear or dislike of the spotlight. It's overwhelming and all consuming. But If he wanted to teach you how to swim, you had to overcome your fear of water.

So for the first lesson, Freminet decided to let you stand knee deep in the water, and when you're relaxed enough, he'll let the water rise to just below your stomach. While doing the first part, he taught you his breathing techniques that help keep him calm.

The first part was easy to do, giving you a confidence boost as Freminet pulled you further into the water. This was easy, This was easy, This was easy! until it wasn't...

The tides seem to pick up, brushing harder against you, and the thought of drowning crept up your skin. It made you nauseous watching the water consume you, and not being able to see your legs. You wanted to throw up, you wanted to get out. Until finally...

You panicked.

Without thinking, you thrashed around, sinking further into the water as you tried to get back to the shore. You felt slower, compacted, and completely surrounded. This isn't easy, this isn't easy, this isn't-

Suddenly, you felt your legs fold under you and you cried out a scream, instinctively clinging onto something to keep you afloat. But instead of being swallowed by the waves, you were lifted from them as Freminet held you up to his chest. It took a moment for you to open your eyes, and when you did, you were met with Freminet's concerned eyes gleaming down at you.

He carried you away from the water, reaching the sandy shore so you could finally touch ground again and find your bearings.

"Are you alright?" It took a moment for you to register his words, and even longer to realize you were still holding onto him. He didn't mind, really, but it did bring a rosy tint to his cheeks as you slowly unraveled your arms from around his neck.

You're never doing this again.

"How about we try again tomorrow?"

Okay, maybe you are doing this again if it means you could spend more time with Freminet. You still can't get over how he held you so protectively, if it wasn't for the fear coursing through your veins, you probably would have passed out then and there.

I might expand on this more. The world needs more Freminet content!! If you have more thoughts about him or this scenario, tell me 🤭

.° ୭ ៳ Genshin Drabble Masterlist・✩

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [45]

chapter forty-five, act six: be my mistake

masterlist

December 25th 2017

Sniffling and rubbing her nose with the back of her wrist she pulls herself to stand, still clutching the letter in her left hand she rubs her eyes and makes her way to the door. She pulls her familiar red zip up tighter around herself, covering up the AM shirt she wears as her hand meets the door knob.

The breath is knocked right out of her as she steps back and stars out the front door.

“Hey…”

She doesn’t say anything. Just closes her mouth and swallows the lump rising in her throat.

His eyes cast down to her hand and he nods his head towards the crumpled paper, “You read the letter?”

“I just finished it.”

Matty smiles weakly as he looks at her, “And?”

“And?” She repeats the word right back to him in the same tone.

She can’t stop staring at him. It’s him, it’s really him, it’s her Matty. He looks so much more healthy now. His face has colour again, it’s bitten red from the cold and he’s hiding in his long coat to try and fight off the air. His hair has grown back, she’d seen a photo of him online a few days after he got out. He’d shaved his head. But it’s back a curly mess on top of his head now.

“And,” He says slowly, hands pushing deeper into his pockets, “What did you think?”

“You were right about one thing.” She tells him and he raises one brow, “You’re a dickhead.”

He nods and looks down at his feet as he closes his eyes. Allen nudges at Tommie’s hand, the one still clutching the letter and she looks down at him. 

It’s as if he’s asking her if he can see his owner. Knowing the pain she has been in and that Matty is the one who caused it.

Allen’s ears are down and his tail is between his legs as he looks up at her, she smiles softly causing his tail to wag and then she nods.

As soon as he has her approval he jumps at Matty, his ears perked as he slobbers all over him and almost knocks him to the ground.

“Hey, bud, I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Do you wanna come in?”

He follows her in, hangs his coat on the rack, lines his shoes up against the wall and then lets her lead him to the living room.

His hand fiddles in his pocket for a few moments before he brings out a wrapped gift, “I uh-” He pauses and just slowly holds his hand out, “Merry Christmas-”

“Matt-”

“Please.”

She nods and takes it from him, “Wait,” He reaches out and clasps both of his hands around hers. She freezes, “Don’t open it yet.”

She nods, voice quiet, “Okay…”

Her eyes glance down and he lets go quickly. She realises her mistake and tries to reach out for him but he turns away.

“How-How have you been?” She asks him.

He nods and pushes his hands further into the pockets of his trousers, “Good.”

It’s a lie. They both know it.

“Do you want a drink? Something to-” She curses and then runs into the kitchen, he follows her quickly pursing his lips to try not to laugh when she brings out the burnt pizza.

She sighs, dropping the pan onto the stove and leaning back, “You never were a good cook.”

She hits his arm as he lets out a giggle and allows a smile of her own to show for just a moment. He studies it, from the way her eyes have that special little sparkle to the way her cheeks become rosy as they stretch. 

“How have you been?” He repeats her question back to her and she stands a little straighter.

“Good.”

“Really?”

She nods, giving him another small smile, “I’ve been good.”

“Keeping busy?” She nods, “Adam told me you’ve been helping Phoebe.”

“Her first album came out a few months ago.”

He nods, “I listened. Could see you in a few songs.”

“I helped with guitar.” She tells him, a smile brightens her face for a few seconds as she thinks of Phoebe. Some colour returns to her cheeks. When the smile falls again she looks paler than before.

“I saw what happened with Braun.”

She sighs and stops picking up the dog toys scattered around her living room to fully face him, “You want a drink?”

“Please.”

She walks for the kitchen and he follows after her as she reaches for two cups and sets them down.

She grips the handle of her fridge, “Preference?”

“I’ll have anything.”

She nods and grips a bottle of fanta, he purses his lips. Not his favourite and she knows it.

She pours two cups and passes one to him as she leans against the kitchen island, peering out her back window into the frosty air of Christmas day.

“Jamie and Adam both kept me updated on the court case.” She nods slowly. She knew one of the guys would be telling Matty. Of course they would. “I’m sorry nothing came of it.”

She shrugs, “We came to an agreement. I get half the writing credits and they get to keep the song under their name.” She scoffs, “Doesn’t matter, he still has my book.”

“You were forced to an agreement, there’s a difference.”

“It was either that or be harassed by his American fangirls because of what I did.”

She looks down and Matty blinks at her slowly, “What you did? You say it like you did something wrong.”

“He seems to think I did.”

Matty shakes his head and then moves from where he’s leaning against the wall to grab her hands, he bends his knees to meet her eyes. “Please don’t let him make you feel guilty.”

She refuses to look at him, eyes still staring out the window. 

Tommie has always been full of guilt. It’s one of her biggest issues. Guilt for leaving behind her family. Guilt for never being a good daughter. Guilt that even with all this money and influential power she can’t change issues in the world. Guilt for things out of her control. 

It isn’t a hard task to make her feel guilty about something. She probably already does.

“Baby, look at me please.”

The moment the old name is coming from his mouth her eyes have snapped to meet his. Her brows furrow and her eyes gloss over with stars. “You did nothing wrong.”

“Did you want kids?” She shakes her head and he nods at the same time, “Did you do what you wanted?” She nods and then he shrugs, “Nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why do I feel so dirty?”

His shoulders deflate, his eyes soften and brows draw together as he quickly shakes his head. “You’re not.”

He can’t believe this. That she’s been alone with these thoughts for so long. Without anyone. Without him.

“Can you do what you said in the letter?”

“What’s that?”

“Hold me.”

His arms are tugging her into his chest the moment the two words leave her lips, one hand on her back the other pressing her head into his chest as his eyes close in bliss.

He has been waiting to feel her touch for months, years. He’s never felt so alive. It’s like there’s oxygen in his lungs once again. Like he can finally breathe.

“Tommie, I just want to say-”

“No.” She shakes her head quickly, her arms tighten around his waist, “It’s Christmas, let’s just be Baby and Roddy today.”

He nods and squeezes her a little tighter when she mumbles, “I missed you.” Her hands grip his shirt, knuckles turning white, “I missed you so much. Will you stay?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“I need you to.”

He nods again, “Then I will. As long as you need me to.”

An hour later Tommie is curled up on her sofa with a knitted blanket thrown over the top of her. Matty relaxes further back into the cushions, her head in his lap. He lets his hands run through her hair, twisting and twirling strands around his long fingers.

He’s missed her hair. He’s missed the way she’d always need to be near him. He’s missed that little crinkle on her nose. And her crows feet in the corner of her eyes. And her one dimple that always shows when she smiles. And her laugh. And her snort when she laughs. He missed the way she’d mouth the words to her favourite films. He’s missed hearing her hum the song stuck in her head all day. Missed feeling her fingers drum a beat on his thigh as she’d try to get inspiration. Missed trying to sneak peeks of her poetry or songwriting when she wasn’t paying attention.

He’s missed touching her. A soft hand on her shoulder, a squeeze of her wrist. Any kind of contact. Matty didn’t think it was physically possible to feel pain from missing someone but he has. An ache deep in his stomach, the pit of his heart. An ache that came from his guilt and loneliness.

“Where are you staying?” She asks, bringing him from his thoughts.

“At home.”

“Alone?” She shifts closer to him, hand curling under his shirt and pressing into his warm stomach.

He gasps at the cold touch but it’s worth it at the mischievous smile she hides into his thigh. There’s five things he’s missed all in that one moment. 

“If you need any help- anything, you’ll come to me, right?” She lifts herself off of him to look at him better, “You won’t suffer in silence. I know I probably won’t understand but I can try to help.”

He wraps his arm around her and pulls her into his shoulder kissing her hairline and letting his lips rest there. He wants to feel her as long as he possibly can, at least until he messes up again.

“You’re already helping.” He promises, “This is the healthiest I’ve felt since leaving.”

“Who picked you up?”

“G.”

“Have you seen the rest of the guys?”

He nods, “I have.”

“Ross?”

“Yup.”

“Ads?”

“Yeah.”

“Jam-”

“I’ve seen them all.” He laughs.

“What about Denise?”

“Last week.”

“You waited until last week?”

He nods, “She wasn’t happy. But I was just so- so scared.” She takes his hand that he's buried into her red locks and holds it between both of hers, turning it over to trace the lines of his palm with her eyes, “She did everything for me to not go down the same path as her. And I did. I did knowing the struggles and the things she had to overcome.”

“Doesn’t matter what you did, as long as you fixed it.”

He scoffs and she rises to sit on her knees. They push into his thigh and she moves his face to look at him, “You’re a good person, Matty.” She lowers her voice and leans so close their foreheads touch, “Please believe in that.”

She closes her eyes as she takes in the feeling of him.

Matty lifts his chin, his nose pushes against hers. Resistance. He should stop. Should think of her nose as a shield. A form of protection against him. He doesn’t stop.

He pushes forward connecting his lips with hers in a soft kiss as he pushes upwards. Her hands fist his curls and just as she lifts one leg ready to straddle his waist he’s stood from the sofa and pushed her aside.

“I-I… Tommie.”

She lands with a quiet ‘oomph’ on the plush cushions of her sofa. Falling between the mountains of pillows and throws.

“Matt, it’s fi-”

He’s shaking his head and begins walking to the hallway. By the time the shock and embarrassment wears off and she forces herself after him he’s got both shoes on, with his hand reaching for his jacket.

“Matt.”

“I have to go.” He tells her as he pulls his long coat over his arms. He tries to fasten the buttons, but his hands shake and she reaches out to stop him. She claps her hands over both of hers, dropping them to his sides and then gripping the coat to keep him close.

This time it’s his hands that cover hers, both of them engulfing hers smaller ones as he pries them from his jacket. He can’t look at her. But he can't tear his eyes away from her face.

“Matt?”

“I’m sorry.”

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@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe, @littlesoldierelleora, @procrastinatinglikeapro, @beatr2x, @byyourside28

-let me know if you want to be added :)

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day Thirty - Chamomile @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 1079 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Pandora glared at both of them before swivelling on her heel and walking away. The tension in her shoulders and jaw didn’t ease a whit.

“She's still angry,” Barty said quietly. “I’m sure you are too.”

Evan reluctantly slid down to the pavement and stepped back, then hugged himself tight. “I’m glad you’re trying and that you’re here.”

The unsaid “but” slashed open a new wound in his partially healed heart. His chest heaved as Evan dropped his gaze to the ground. Barty’s elation crashed with it. It couldn’t be that easy. He knew that.

Evan swallowed hard. “It hurt, Barty, more than anything…ever.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“No. Don’t speak.”

Barty shut his mouth and slid further back onto the hood so his feet dangled an inch off the ground. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans and hoped Evan didn’t notice how much his hands shook. It was just as well that Evan didn’t let him speak. A ball of dread had lodged in his throat and threatened to choke him.

Don’t push me away again, Rosie. I can’t stand it!

“I want to believe that you’re better with me. That you wouldn’t hurt me like you did Reg.” Evan’s voice was calm, almost flat, but his face was twisted into a grimace. “But you did. You lied to me and presented yourself as someone different. I’m not sure my Barty is the real Barty.”

Barty’s jaw worked from side to side as he fought back the urge to defend himself. Evan had a point. Several, actually. He’d intentionally given Evan only his best side and hidden the worst bits away.

“And so did I.”

Barty’s head snapped up. “What?”

Evan winced, then scrubbed a hand over his face. “I wasn’t honest with you either. I pretended to be unbothered by everything because I wanted you to like me. Most people don’t. Not at first anyway.”

“So, we’re both liars.”

“Yes, I guess we are.”

Barty cleared his throat and pulled out two cigarettes. He put both in his mouth and lit them, then held one out to Evan. A peace offering.

Evan didn’t hesitate to take it. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Fuck, I needed that.”

“I know. You always smoke when you’re upset.”

“You’ve never seen me upset. Not really.”

Barty released an amused breath and shook his head. “You underestimate how obsessed I am with you.”

Evan eyed him warily as he drew in another haul. The sharp angles that he’d shown Barty since their break-up did catch him off-guard, but it was also a relief to discover that Evan wasn’t as perfect as he thought. They were desperately trying to soften razor-blade edges into something palatable.

“Meaning?”

“I pay attention when it’s you. More than I ever bothered to in the past. I know what your tics are, how to make you laugh until you nearly piss yourself, and when to shut up and let you think. I know your favourites and habits by heart. Even if we weren’t as honest as we should have been, I do know you, Rosie.”

Evan dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. “How can you say that when you still use that stupid nickname that I hate?”

Barty grinned. “Because I like to make your eyes roll.”

“Oh piss off,” Evan retorted with a huff.

“And when you’re all huffy, I like that too.”

“Prove it then.”

Barty arched an eyebrow. “Prove what? That I can make your eyes roll? I’d love to.”

“Prove that you care about me,” Evan said, glaring as he stepped forward. “What do you think you know?”

Barty kicked out his legs to hook both boots behind Evan’s thighs. Slowly, he reeled him in. Once Evan stood between his knees, Barty draped his arms over his shoulders and toyed with the loose curls at the nape of his neck.

“What do I definitely know about you? So many things, where do I start? Let’s see. You always ask for Yorkshire tea, but choose chamomile when you make your own. You have one dimple when you smile and it takes a tremendous amount of self-control not to bite it when it pops out.”

Evan hallowed his cheeks to hide a smile. “You bite my cheek all the time.”

“I didn’t say that I possess tremendous amounts of self-control.”

“Annoying git. Keep going.”

“I know that you hate living with your parents, but you’re worried that they won’t let you come back if you leave,” Barty continued. “And that as much as you love your sister, you hate that she can see right through you.”

“Ouch.”

Barty shrugged. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You’re not…wrong.” Evan admitted, resting his chin on Barty’s arm. “We’re a mess, Barty. This is messy.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Evan glanced back at his parents’ row house and sighed. “Pandora will never approve of us, even if she and Reg decide to leave it, and neither will my parents.”

“I don’t give a shite what they think, Evan. The important question is, do you?” Barty asked, searching his face for doubt. “I’ll never be like Lily, or James. I’m not selfless, gentle, or kind. My mouth runs faster than my mind, I waste my money on tattoos and weed, I'm fucking obsessed with you, and I’m not convinced that I can actually die.”

A startled laugh burst from Evan’s lips and he quickly stuffed his face in Barty’s shoulder. “Shut up before I punch you.”

Barty leaned back and lifted Evan’s chin, his calloused fingers rough against smooth skin. “I will never be good enough for you, Rosie, but I think…I think I may love you.”

“Blegh. Never say that again,” Evan said, gagging exaggeratedly. “Shut up and kiss me before I change my mind and break your face.”

“You can sit on it, if you like?”

Evan grabbed Barty’s neck and smashed their mouths together. The kiss was nothing but spit, scraping teeth, and sparring tongues, just how Barty liked it. How they both needed it.

The words hung out there in the air and Evan didn’t refute the truth of them. They both knew what that meant. “Love” was a word that soured in their mouths. It evoked cutesy couple shite, awkwardly tender looks, and gentle touches.

Barty and Evan didn’t have that kind of “love.” Theirs was stupid dares, a dick piercing, neck biting, high on life — and probably weed — kind of love. It wasn’t pretty, but it was theirs.

[scarasimping]

I’m stealing that cat pic THE GATES R OPEN TALK ABOUT UR BRAIN ROT

YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY I AM THAT YOU ALL LIKE PIRATE SCARA

okay so this was originally gonna be a little drabble for you guys as a treat because you all like him sm but,,,,,i got carried away. it was also only supposed to be suggestive....not, yknow, actual smut. i am. so sorry

cw: fem! reader, dom! scara ig??? but he's soft so, oral (fem receiving), probably bad writing idk, if i missed anything let me know !!

word count: 1.1k

You had spent so long with Scara trying to figure out how to sneak yourself onto his ship without your guards knowing, and finally, you did it. You made it on the ship. All you wanted was to be there for one night, with no fear of the guards overhearing you two in your room or staff barging in and seeing him.

For once, he curses your politeness and kindness towards his crew, because you keep stopping to talk to them and god dammit he just wants to be alone with you.

Once he gets you inside his captain's cabin, he's pinning you to the door, one hand on your waist and the other pressed against the wood of the door by your head. His forehead rested against your own as he stared directly into your eyes, a teasing smirk on his face.

He leans down, kissing your jaw softly, slowly moving down your neck leaving more chaste kisses in his wake.

"So glad we're alone finally, darling," he'd whisper in between his lips' assault on your neck. His hand on your waist caresses drifts to the front of your stomach where he carefully unties your corset that was atop your shirt, dropping it from your waist and running his rough hands under your top, onto your bare skin.

He leaves one last long kiss to your throat before he lifts his head, to stare at you once more. His pupils are blown out, eyes full of nothing but love and want. The only thing on his mind is how pretty you look with your cheeks painted with a rosy blush, mouth parted as you try to ground yourself after all the attention he's giving you, the way your gaze keeps glancing between his eyes and his lips.

Too quickly to even process, Scaramouche leans in and presses his lips against yours. It's almost as if he's trying to mold his body with yours with how closely he's pressed himself to you — chest to chest, his knee in between your legs. He kisses you with desperation, one you've only seen him have a few times before.

With gentle nibbles on your lip, he asks for permission to explore your mouth even further, and only a fool would deny him that. As soon as your lips part, his tongue is darting inside, running against your own so that he can truly taste you.

All the while, his hand on your waist moves lower, toying with the hem of your skirt. He parts from your lips for only a second to ask, "Can I take this off?"

Too hasty to even think about your shirt as well, he's pulling your skirt and underwear down as soon as you give him the go ahead. When your skirt drops down, so does he. He falls to his knees in front of you, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and leaning his head against your thigh.

In his mind, there is only you running through it: his desire for you, his need for you, to make you feel good. Before you, when he had hooked up with women at a tavern on his travels, he stuck true to the ways of a pirate and only really cared about himself. If the woman he was with also got some pleasure, then good for her, but it wasn't his priority.

But god, hearing your sweet moans as he focuses wholly on pleasing you is the closest thing to heaven he's ever experienced. Staring up at you is like staring at an angel. He so desperately wants you to feel good, and he needs to be the cause of it.

He takes hold of your hands, directing them to hold onto his hair, before he licks his thumb and slowly brushes it over your clit. He finds so much delight in how easily you squirm above him at the slightest stimulation. He's smirking up at you, kissing the inside of your thigh softly as he continues toying with you. When you start letting out breathy, quiet moans is when he finally leans in and flicks his tongue across your clit, relishing in the way you grip at his hair.

Once he's teased you enough, and your hips are squirming for just a little more, he finally wraps his lips around your poor clit and sucks, his fingers coming to prod at your entrance. All of the whines and whimpers you release are music to his ears, only making him more eager to suck and lick at you, craving more and more noises.

Gathering some of your arousal on his fingers as a lubricant, he slips his middle finger inside your needy hole, curling it so that it presses against your sweet spot. He's slow at first, allowing you to get used to the feeling, but as time goes on his assault on your walls becomes more and more needy, fingertips abusing your sensitive spot so quickly and barely giving you a break from the feeling.

Years of greed and selfishness melted away as all Scaramouche could do was give and give you everything you wanted. The taste of you on his tongue was intoxicating — addicting, even. Your hands tugged at his hair even more, tangling yourself in the indigo strands and letting him know how good he was making you feel.

Needy whines and cries of his name spilled from your spit-soaked lips. You were close, and he knew it from the way your walls tightened around his finger and how you couldn't keep your hips still, grinding down against his face for more.

"My love...'m close," you breathed out, he hummed in acknowledgement, only increasing the pressure that he used on your gummy walls and puffy clit.

It doesn't take long before you're releasing on his fingers, head thrown back against the door of his quarters and finger pulling so hard at his hair, he's surprised you haven't ripped any out. Your breaths are heavy and labored, and you're staring down as he finally pulls away from your sobbing cunt. He pulls his fingers out slowly, so as to not overstimulate you, and brings them to his own mouth, licking them clean and pulling away with a pop.

He rubs your thighs soothingly, removing your leg from his shoulder, but still holding onto you tightly by the hips so you don't fall over. When he stands up again, you can see just how worked up he got from making you feel pleasure. The bulge in his trousers was very prominent, and he couldn't help but grind his hips against yours, seeking some sort of friction from you.

"Still have enough energy for another round? I need you so fucking badly..."

[cetaitlaverite]

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

masterlist is linked here <3

29. A Head Start

No resolution or compromise was quickly found to the disagreement about where Freddie and Rosie would live after the war. In fact, all conversation surrounding the matter came to an abrupt halt when Rosie’s fort went down over France.

He and the rest of his crew found themselves, mercifully, behind Allied lines, but they were all seriously injured. Rosie had to be pulled, unconscious, out of his cockpit by the Free French, but he woke up in a hospital in Oxford to both of Freddie’s parents sitting at his bedside. His co-pilot, Will Terminello, was conscious through the crash and had managed to get word back to Thorpe Abbotts that they were all alive but wounded, and when Freddie found out they were being sent to Oxford she’d telephoned her parents right away so that he wouldn’t wake up alone.

When Rosie finally returned, a week later than expected, smiling sheepishly in the front seat of a jeep with a broken arm and a splint on his nose, Freddie felt she could have killed him.

She hung back and waited as he disembarked the jeep, taking him in with a frown. When Rosie lifted his good arm to wave at her, however, she closed the distance between them in seconds.

“‘I promise I’ll never go down, Fred’,” she mimicked him in an unflattering impression, flinging her arms around his neck and pressing herself to him, making sure to be mindful of the arm sitting in a sling. “‘I promise I’ll always come back to you, Fred’,” she went on mimicking, even as tears of relief flooded her voice.

Rosie chuckled quietly, using his good arm to hold her close. “I did come back to you,” he reminded her softly, speaking into her hair, “didn’t I?”

“A week late,” Freddie said, choking out a laugh.

“What’s a week, in the grand scheme of things, huh?” he teased her gently. “Still came back. Still gonna keep coming back.”

“You’d better.” There was no real weight to the threat, not when she was breathing heavily to try to tame her tears. “I love you.”

Rosie pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you too.” He smiled against her hair. “Your parents send their love. They gave me some stuff to give to you.” Kissing her hair again, he moved to rest his cheek on top of her head. “Thanks for sending them, Fred. Last thing I remembered was the fort going down. It was nice to have familiar faces there when I woke up.”

Freddie nodded, too choked up just now to verbally reply.

It was silly, she knew, to be crying about all this. All he had was a broken arm and nose. But the thought of his plane going down at all, when his plane had never gone down before, removed the untouchable status he’d acquired which he so often used to reassure her. He’d never gone down, he’d always tell her, so she had no reason to worry. Well, now he had. And he’d survived, yes - hadn’t even been captured, in fact - but he had still gone down. He was still mortal - an excellent pilot, true, but so had Bucky and Buck and Brady all been. He was just as capable of being shot down as the others.

Rosie was transferred to the infirmary on base with a doctor’s note from the hospital in Oxford ordering that he spend a night in the infirmary, to make sure if he rolled on his broken arm in his sleep or otherwise further injured it then someone would be around to help. So Freddie spent the night sitting at his bedside. There were numerous empty beds in the room but she wasn’t allowed to sleep in them - they were strictly for patients, and she’d only be making more work for the nurses by forcing them to rewash and dry the sheets afterwards. And anyway, it was really nice of all of the medical staff to let her remain in there at all overnight when it was against the rules. Visiting hours applied to the infirmary just as they applied to real hospitals, but given Freddie’s history, which she knew was written in her medical chart because it was the primary reason she’d transferred airfields, the nurses on duty had decided to make an exception.

It was almost funny to her now to remember the relief she’d felt when Thorpe Abbotts had been handed over by the RAF to the American Air Force. After Daniel had first gone down she’d been convinced she would never love again anyway, but the prospect of dealing with Americans had made her feel safe from caring about any of them too much. She’d never met an American back then and had for some reason believed they’d be different to how they were. Now - well, she was in love with one and considering following him to America, so clearly her plan hadn’t worked.

Freddie read Rosie to sleep that night, smiling fondly as she watched him fight the closing of his eyelids because he wanted to carry on listening to her voice. But he slept eventually, exhaustion pulling him under as easily as the tide, and Freddie ran gentle fingers through his messy curls as she shut his book and placed it on the floor beneath her chair, then settled back into the pillow one of the nurses had let her borrow to save her back.

With the blackout blinds pulled and only the small lamp at Rosie’s bedside to illuminate the cavernous room, all of a sudden the silence was stifling. Freddie reached for and took Rosie’s hand, comforting herself with the knowledge that he was close. She had to make a conscious effort to settle enough to close her eyes as she sat upright in an uncomfortable chair.

She fell asleep holding Rosie’s good hand and woke holding it too, an awful crick in her neck but a smile on her face when she realised she’d woken first. Rosie was still sound asleep, his face turned into the pillow to face her and the hand holding hers tucked up snug beneath his chin, the light sneaking in around the edges of the blackout blinds lighting up the ends of his hair in a halo. His chest rose and fell steadily, his deep breaths belying the depth of his sleep, and though summer was still hanging on by a thread Freddie worried he’d be cold in the chill of the morning after he must have pushed his blanket down to his waist during the night. Using her free hand, she drew it carefully back up and tucked him into bed the way he’d once done for her, her heart growing warm when he snuggled down into the blanket now pulled up beneath his chin.

Rosie didn’t wake for hours but Freddie stayed there all the same, watching the rise and fall of his chest to assure herself that he really was here, really was safe, that all of the worrying she’d done was unnecessary. And, when she finally felt she could really and truly breathe properly again, he started mumbling his way into consciousness, the first and clearest word out of his mouth her name. “Fred.”

“I’m here, my love,” Freddie assured him, giving the hand she was holding a gentle squeeze.

“Where ‘m I?” he asked groggily. He tried to sit up but found he couldn’t plant his hands on the mattress to push himself up because one was in a sling and the other was holding onto Freddie’s.

Freddie smiled as he kept hold of her hand and resigned himself to remaining horizontal, as she watched him crane his neck this way and that to try to recognise his location. “The infirmary, sweetness,” she told him, squeezing his hand softly once more. “You’re back at Thorpe Abbotts, now, remember?”

“Oh,” Rosie mumbled. “Right.”

“Did you sleep well?” she asked him, reaching forward with her free hand to brush back some of the curls which had fallen into his eyes.

Rosie hummed his affirmative, which Freddie had, of course, already known, but she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to admit that she’d been watching him sleep for hours by now.

“Shall I call for one of the nurses to come look at your arm?” she asked him. Her hand remained in his hair even though by all accounts her work there was finished. He just had the loveliest hair. She’d liked Daniel’s hair too - bright blond, which she had always found fitting, because he’d burned so brightly it only made sense for him to look like he emitted light, too - but Rosie’s hair was captivating. Those soft, dark curls of his, the direct antithesis to Daniel’s straight blond locks, were stunning to her. He could have been a film star, she thought, if he hadn’t become a lawyer and a pilot. The promise of getting to gaze at those baby blue eyes alone could sell millions of cinema tickets.

Rosie didn’t immediately react to Freddie’s question - still disoriented from the pain medication he’d been given the night before, she deduced - so she added, “They might discharge you if everything looks good, and then we can go and get breakfast.”

He looked at her suddenly, with a new clarity, and Freddie perked up to think the promise of breakfast had gotten him to finally break free of the last lingering grips of sleep. But then he said, “Fred, baby, will you come lie with me?” in a soft little voice, a voice he tended only to use after they’d been intimate, and her heart melted into a thin liquid and trickled down out of her feet and pooled in her shoes.

“There’s no space on the bed, darling,” Freddie informed him regretfully. “I can come and sit on the edge -”

“I want you to lie with me,” he cut across her, still speaking so softly his voice was like the fur of a puppy.

Freddie tilted her head to the side as she gazed at him, fiddling with the ends of his hair. “I don’t want to hurt you, Bärchen.”

Before he could reply, one of the nurses, Margaretta, entered the room and smiled upon finding both Freddie and Rosie awake. “Mornin’,” she greeted in her distinctly Bristolian drawl. “How’d we sleep?”

Rosie mumbled something unintelligible, letting his head fall back to rest on the pillow again.

Freddie laughed, continuing to comb back his hair. “He slept well,” she informed Margaretta, sharing an amused smile with her. “He’s still drowsy from the pain medication Janine gave him, I think.”

Margaretta stopped in the middle of a step and stumbled as she attempted to right herself. “Janine gave him pain medication?”

“Yes,” Freddie confirmed, quirking a brow. “Last night when he first came in, right before I helped him to wash and get ready for bed.”

Margaretta had gone pale. “I gave him pain medication last night,” she said, wide-eyed.

Freddie sat up straighter. “What? When?”

“I think you went to go and get your things. He was complainin’ about the pain and about wantin’ you to come back so I gave him a tablet. There was nothing on his chart -”

Freddie’s eyes shot to Rosie where he was staring at the ceiling, muttering to himself. She wanted to laugh but wasn’t sure how serious this was.

Finally, Margaretta let out a laugh of her own. When Freddie looked at her she had a hand over her mouth, trying to hold in her giggles. “He’ll be fine,” she assured Freddie when she noticed her look, lowering her hand. “He’ll have slept most of it off, he’ll just be drowsy for a couple of hours.”

Freddie let herself start to smile, too. “He did sleep very deeply.”

Margaretta shrugged. “For the best then, I s’pose. Usually the men get nightmares their first night back on base after a crash - the pilots especially. Takes ‘em a while to work up to getting the sleep they need to heal their bodies. At least I’ve given him a head start.”

With a breathy laugh, Freddie lowered her hand to stroke Rosie’s cheek. “I’m grateful to you for keeping away the nightmares, then.”

Margaretta laughed a little bit herself, then smoothed her hands down her skirt and straightened her posture. “I’ll go fetch you both some breakfast, since I don’t reckon your pilot’s in any fit state to head off to the mess hall right now and we’ve only got me to blame for it. Does he eat eggs?”

Giggling, Freddie nodded. “Yes. Eggs, toast, he’s not very picky in all honesty. Prefers apple juice to orange if they’ve got it, though.”

“Apple juice,” Margaretta confirmed. “Got it. And for you, ma’am? Any requests?”

“Oh, you don’t have to get anything for me,” Freddie assured her. “I’ll just wait for lunch.”

Margaretta pretended not to hear this. “Eggs alright?”

Freddie laughed and relented. “Eggs are perfect, Margaretta, thank you.”

Margaretta nodded, inclining her head respectfully before turning and all but bolting out of the infirmary. Freddie assumed she was trying to get out of there before she accidentally laughed again but she needn’t have worried - Freddie herself was the worst for laughing at Rosie’s small misfortunes.

Rising from her chair, Freddie came to crouch by the head of the bed so she could meet Rosie’s eyes without him having to crane his neck. He brightened when she appeared back in his field of vision, and shut his eyes with a happy hum when she recommenced combing her fingers through his hair.

“Margaretta has gone to get you breakfast,” Freddie informed him quietly, leaning forwards to gently kiss the tip of his nose.

Rosie smiled dopily. “I love breakfast.”

Freddie grinned. “I know you do. She’s going to bring you apple juice if they’ve got any.”

“I love apple juice.”

Freddie laughed quietly. “She says you should feel better in a couple of hours once your meds wear off. You’ll be up and ordering me to eat every five seconds in no time, my darling love.”

Rosie cracked a sleepy grin at this. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetness,” Freddie told him softly, and kissed his nose once more because he was just so very sweet. “You had me so worried.”

“‘M fine,” he assured her quietly. “Just missed you. ‘S all.”

“I missed you, too,” Freddie answered him. “And I love you very much. Now shall we try sitting you up so you can eat something when Margaretta comes back?”

“Come lie with me first.”

Freddie rolled her eyes indulgently. “There’s not enough room, Bärchen,” she reminded him.

“You can lie on top of me.”

Freddie shook her head, laughing softly to herself. “No, darling. I’ll hurt your arm.”

Rosie pouted and frowned and complained when Freddie subsequently helped him to sit up, making sure his pillows were fluffed and propped up properly behind him against the bed frame. But, after Margaretta returned with breakfast for the both of them, it seemed that eating a proper meal helped to clear some more of the haziness out of his system. A midmorning nap later while Freddie was at work and she was looking up at a knock at her office door to find Rosie in the doorway, smiling sheepishly as he pushed the door open.

Freddie grinned. “Hi, my darling. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Rosie said, crossing the room to greet Meatball with pets to his head before heading over to Freddie. “Drugs have all worn off now.”

“A shame,” Freddie teased. “I rather liked that version of you.”

Rosie rolled his eyes, his cheeks flaming. It came as no surprise to Freddie when he changed the subject. “I’m back in my hut tonight, so at least you won’t have to sleep sitting up again.”

Freddie laughed. “I don’t know, I quite liked reading you a bedtime story the way you did for me. Woke up with an awful crick in my neck, though.” She lifted a hand to hold her neck as she attempted to stretch it out for what must have been nearly the twentieth time, grimacing as it stuck in the same place and sent a fierce ache down her spine.

“I kinda wanted to talk to you about that, actually,” Rosie ventured.

Freddie’s eyebrows furrowed. “About the crick in my neck?”

“No, the other thing.”

“About reading you a bedtime story?”

Rosie laughed, shaking his head at her. “I can’t fly for at least a few weeks. Jack’s got me pushing paper in air exec since he can always use the extra help, but there’s not a full job for me there, so I’ve got the next few weekends off. I was wondering if you wanted to take one of ‘em off with me so I can take you on that trip to London we were talking about a couple months back.”

Freddie brightened, sitting up straighter in her chair. “A weekend in London,” she said wistfully. “A hotel room to share and all the privacy in the world. If I can get leave I’m taking it, but I don’t know if I’ll ever come back.”

Rosie grinned. “So I should try to get some fake wedding rings for us?”

Freddie stood from her chair, rounding her desk to get closer to him. Once directly in front of him, she pushed up on her toes and he leaned down immediately, instinctively, to meet her for a sweet kiss. “Yes,” she told him decisively once they’d pulled away. “We’ll be fake married for the weekend to give ourselves a quiet life. They never check the marriage certificates - Cecelia and Emma both stayed in hotels with their boyfriends when they went on leave and said they only really looked for the rings. I might be able to borrow one of their fake rings, in fact, so then you only have to get one for yourself.”

Rosie smiled shyly as he curled his hands around her waist. He shrugged. “I kinda hope we get to do this a few times so maybe it’s better if I get you one of your own. Y’know, just in case.”

Freddie grinned. She knew what he was really saying, of course - knew the real reason he wanted her to have her own fake wedding ring - but didn’t say it just to give him his privacy. “Alright,” she agreed. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “You focus on getting leave and leave the rest to me, alright, Fred? I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“Hotel room included, provided I get the time off?” Freddie asked.

“Sure,” Rosie agreed. “Croz used to spend a lot of time in London so he gave me a list of good hotels.”

Freddie paused, quirking a brow. She was watching Rosie closely. “Interesting. What business did Croz have in London?”

A rosy flush filled Rosie’s cheeks once more. “You’ll, uh, have to ask him. I don’t know if he’d want me to say.”

“Keeping secrets, are we?” Freddie asked with narrowed eyes. “I do hope he’s not been having an affair. He’s married.”

Rosie said nothing.

Freddie raised her eyebrows. “I do hope you wouldn’t condone that sort of behaviour as well, if, hypothetically, he was having an affair and you knew about it.”

“Of course not,” Rosie said immediately.

Freddie was watching him with palpable scepticism. “So, hypothetically, if he did tell you he was having an affair, you’d tell him in no uncertain terms to knock it off and remind him of the devoted wife waiting patiently for him back home?”

Again, Rosie fought for words but ultimately said nothing.

Freddie hummed suspiciously, still watching him closely. “If I do find out Major Crosby was having an affair I’d be most upset with you. You do know that, don’t you, Major Rosenthal?”

Rosie nodded rapidly, eyes wide. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Because I love you an awful lot, but I would hope the man I love wouldn’t support a friend’s adultery.”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean - no, ma’am.” He met her eyes quickly, fleetingly. “I love you too.”

“Right, then,” Freddie replied at length. “You set about organising London and I’ll set about securing leave. And tell Croz next time you see him that I’m looking for him, won’t you, dearest?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” Freddie declared, using a hand on his shoulder to press up high enough to kiss his cheek. “Perfect. See you later, my love.”

“Yeah,” Rosie said, smiling sheepishly as he backed out of her office. “See you later.”

[dre6ming]

The delicate beginning rush- imagine

Unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her

Masterlist <chapters 1->14 here>

Some things are meant to be - chapter 13 (y/n) pov

The delicate beginning rush imagines masterlist

Get added to my tag list

Pairing: Austin Butler x singer/actress fem reader

Warning: age gap (10 years), fluff

Plot: (y/n) was secretly asked to be part of the Elvis Soundtrack and perform live at the Cannes premiere, this is Austin’s reaction to it.

Word count: 1900

Austin's point of view

The clapping started a while ago and it doesn't seem to stop. I have tears in my eyes, salt streams running down my cheeks as I look up, thanking my mom's spirit, Elvis's and God. In my whole two decades long career I've never felt this type of happiness and relief. The room is just filled with this beautiful energy, there's happiness flowing in the air, but there's a heaviness to it all, as everyone seems to be holding back tears. I turn to my left and hug Olivia briefly, whispering a sincere "thank you" in her ear, moving further through the crowd, hugging everyone in sight. I'm overwhelmed with people's reaction and I'm joyful to accept every compliment and hug, but there's this gaping hole in my heart, like something is missing. I can't put my finger on what it is, but in the back of my mind there's this voice telling me exactly what I'm longing for.

She couldn't be here, how could she? She's not my girlfriend publicly, she's not involved with the movie, as far the public knew, she's had no excuse to come to the premiere, even though I wanted it so bad.

As soon as my mind circles back to her, I can't help but wish this would all be over so I could go back to my hotel room and call her, hear her voice, tell how proud I am of her singing, how hearing her voice brought me to tears. I just know (y/n) and Baz must of worked really hard to keep this a secret, not only from the media, but from me as well. I smile to myself thinking about all those times I asked her about the secret project she was working on and she would simply smile, saying I'll know soon enough.

I reach my hand into my jacket, looking for my phone to see if she answered my text, more like hoping she did, but before I can, a hand touches my shoulder. "Austin, everyone back in their seats, there's one last surprise." Baz announces, directing me back to my seat next to him. The room goes completely silent and all the lights go out, leaving us in pitch black. There's some ruffling noise, then a deep breath echoes through the theater. Soft piano starts playing and a single light shines on the floor, bringing into focus a white piano, a replica of the one Elvis had in Graceland. The breath gets caught in the back of my throat as my eyes make out who's playing.

"Wise men say, only fools rush in...But I can't help falling in love with you"

(Y/n)'s enchanting voice fills the room, making my heart throb. She looks beautiful, in a dark blue gown, with silver stars on it. Her soft hair is pulled back and she has glitter all over her face, which sparkles with every movement of her head. She has her eyes closed, singing softly, her delicate fingers brushing the piano keys.

"Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes. Some things are...meant to be"

I can't take my eyes off of her and my feet carry me out of my chair unconsciously. New tears form in my eyes and I try to blink them away, but all that effort goes out the window when she turns her head to the audience. She opens up her beautiful eyes, searching the audience, spotting me immediately, since I'm the only one standing. (Y/n)'s eyes glimmer in the light, tears glossing them. She smiles at me, a single tear sliding down her round rosy cheek and onto the piano keys.

"Take my hand, take my whole life too. For I can't help falling in love with you"

She keeps singing, looking into my eyes, smiling bright and blinking through the tears. I'm wiping away my own tears, feeling the thud of my heart against my chest. All I see is her, all I hear is her, all I want is her. It's so strange to try and explain, to try and understand, this undeniable attraction I feel for her. I watch her and I'm intrigued by her presence, by her ability to wield such power. In the months since I've met her, she's consumed my every thought, I fall asleep dreaming about her eyes and I wake up imagining I hear her voice.

I hate playing pretend, the whole fake relationship thing is really starting to piss me off. I wish I could just run up to her, lift her up in my arms and spin her around, kiss her plush lips.

"For I can't help falling in love with you..."

As she finishes the song, I'm left with this feeling, the feeling that she was somehow singing to me and I realize how much I wish that were true. As people start clapping and standing, cheering her on, I understand the weight that's sitting on my heart. I've fallen in love with her. There's no denying, that I want her to be my everything, I feel it in all my bones. She's my one.

Baz shakes me awake, hugging me, asking me what I thought of the performance. I'm speechless, I smile and say some gibberish that doesn't make much sense. My feet burn in my shoes, I want to move so bad, to go be by her side.

Before I can stop myself, I'm moving, making a bee line for her, focusing only on her. I love the way her face lights up when we lock eyes, I love the blush that comes to her cheeks, I love the way her lips stretch over her teeth in the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. I come to a stop, standing a few inches away from her, looking at her, forcing my hands to stay unmoved at my sides. "I-" she opens her mouth to say, but she's interrupted by Baz, coming form behind me.

"(Y/n) oh my, I have goosebumps all over, that was so beautiful, congratulations." She looks down, fidgeting with her dress. "Thank you, Baz, it means a lot." (Y/n) says smiling, sniffing a bit. I open my mouth to give my congratulations to her as well, but I'm once more interrupted, this time by Priscilla, handing her a tissue so she could wipe away her tears. "Here you go, honey, a beautiful performance, Elvis would be happy to see his legacy carried this way." Priscilla says and I see on (y/n)'s face how proud she feels hearing this.

Before I know it a photographer comes at us. "Smile!" He says and I drag her by the waist, keeping her close to my side. My fingers absentmindedly dance over the soft fabric of her dress and I feel her tense under my touch, smirking to myself, loving that I have this effect on her. "Miss, one picture over at the piano please, Mr Butler, join her at the piano please." The photographer directs and she moves, holding the front of her dress up. I sit down next to her, helping her arrange the skirt of the dress as she whispers a soft "thank you".

I smile for the camera, but being this close to her, does things to me, I can't explain, so I find my hand fumbling around for the slit of her dress, finding it and placing the palm of my hand on her knee. I hear the way her breath gets caught in her chest and I play it cool, praying no one would dare look under the piano.

After a couple of photos, I'm unfortunately pulled away into conversation with someone and she gathers up her dress and leaves. I feel this energy pulling at my insides, like a string that ties me to her and putting distance between us, hurts. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her talking to Kaia and it's now that I wish I had supernatural hearing, because I know how she feels about the whole fake relationship thing, I know she understands, but I also know she hates it.

I have to focus my attention back to my conversation and reply, mentally sighing when the person loses interest and leaves. I turn around and see her walking up to me, her closeness making my heart race. "Austin..." my name sounds so good coming out of her mouth, if I could hear only one thing for the rest of my life, it would be her saying my name over and over again. I smile at her and she bites her lip, causing a groan to bubble in my throat, but I stop it before it's too late. "You're so beautiful, can I hug you?" I need to feel her warmth against my body, it's been too long since I had the chance to. Her eyes wonder around the room, probably looking for people watching our interaction. "Thank you, I- do you think we could?" It breaks my heart that the right answer it's probably no, but I'm so hungry for her touch, I can't think logically. "I think it's just a hug.." I shrug, knowing full well it's not just a hug. "Ok" she replies.

That's all I need, to scoop her up in my arms, squeezing her tight, lifting her feet off the ground and burying my face in the crook of her neck. (Y/n) tenses in my arms and I know she's overthinking this, I know she's scared someone might see, but I can't bring myself to care. "Too much Austin, people will see!" She warns, speaking into my ear, causing shivers to travel down my spine.

"Let them, I couldn't give a fuck!" It's like I'm drunk, my head is fuzzy and I can't think straight. My senses are drowned in her floral scent, her soft hair brushing against my cheek, driving me crazy, as I'm having a hard time not lacing my fingers through her hair. I squeeze her tighter, almost wishing she could melt into me and be forever close. "Aus, baby please, not now, not like this, you just had the longest standing ovation in the festival's history, don't ruin your moment." She tries to reason with me and I can't deny her. The proud tone in her voice making me want to cry again, her opinion matters so much to me.

Slowly I loosen my arms and place her back on the ground, physically hurting when I no longer have her flush to my chest. Sighing I drop my arms to my side, like a child trying to be good after doing something they shouldn't have. I bite my lip and look her up and down, taking in her beauty. "Are you coming to the after party?" Part of me wishes she wouldn't, because I don't know how I'll be able to control myself around her, when there's alcohol involved.

"No, I'm tired, I flew here from Canada, we wrapped filming yesterday." (Y/n) explains and I simply nod, feeling a bit thankful, but now wishing that I wasn't going either. "Where are you staying?" I ask, hoping it's the same hotel as mine, but she doesn't say, she just smirks wiggling her brows at me, making me chuckle. "Have fun at the party!" She pats my arm and turns around walking away before I can get another word out.

As I watch her walk away, I realize something, I realize that I don't ever want to live in a world where she's not mine and I'm not hers, because I'm unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her.

Tags: @galaxygirl453 @rainydayz101 @samaraannhan20 @marlowmode @myradiaz @areuirish @micaelainthe60s @homebodybirkin2003 @pennyroyalcreep @purejasmine @strokesofstokes @lanasfloridakiloss @denised916 @kibumslatina @macey234 @melodixs-blog @shantellescrivener @chewiethecatus @guacala @fangirl125reader @father-of-2cats @lucid315 @melodixs-blog @ilovehobi101 @richardslady121 @jensmithin @julie181 @chrisevansgirl34 @ranaissingle @onecrazydirectioner @maria-1287 @austinbutlerssimp

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Always Him : Chapter 50B

Word Count : 0.7k

Warnings : swearing, angst with happy ending

            Her heart clenched in her chest when she kissed him. It didn’t feel right, not anymore. Not after she’s been with someone else, been loved by someone else. She felt what it was like to be loved in the open and she just couldn’t trust Hongjoong to give that to her. He could see the rejection on her face and he knew he messed up too many times. Hurt her too many times. “Go get him back, Y/n.”

            “What?” Her eyes widened.

            “I know you better than you think I do. You want Yeosang. So go get him.” She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Hongjoong lightly pushed her up off the bench they were sitting on. “Go before I change my mind and keep you for myself.” She giggled as the tears welled up in her eyes.

            “I’m sorry.” He shook his head.

            “I’m the one that should be sorry. I hurt you too many times and Yeosang picked up the pieces. As long as you’re happy, I’ll be okay.” She placed a kiss to his cheek before running out of the room, dialling Yeosang’s number as she stepped out into the chilly evening.

            “Y/n? Is everything okay?” Yeosang answered almost immediately. She could picture him pacing, wondering if he should leave his place or not.

            “Meet me at the park by your place?” She asked. There was silence on the other end and she wondered if she was making a mistake. Maybe Yeosang moved on while she was trying to figure out her heart. She looked back towards the room Hongjoong was still in, hearing soft piano music playing.

            “Yeah. I’ll be there.” One final deep breath and she began to run towards the meeting place. The closer she got to the park, she knew this was the right choice. Adrenaline rushed through her body pushing her further and further away from Hongjoong and closer to Yeosang.

            Yeosang was standing at the entrance when she arrived out of breath. “Tell me again.” She said quickly as she tried to catch her breath. He looked at her puzzled, wondering what it was she wanted him to say. She was supposed to be with Hongjoong right now, celebrating their relationship. Why was she standing in front of him completely out of breath with a nervous smile on her face? “Tell me that you still love me.”

            “I do.” He answered with no hesitation. “I still love you just as much now as I did the first day I told you.” She pulled him in for a kiss, taking him by surprise, but it didn’t take long for him to kiss back, pulling her closer.

            “I love you too, Yeosang. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize.” He smiled as he shook his head, telling her not to be sorry, and pulled her in for another kiss.

~

            “Did you run all this way just to tell me you loved me?” Yeosang asked with a chuckle as they walked around hand in hand. He had his answer with the way her cheeks turned a rosy colour. “You’re so cute, darling. You must be thirsty after that. Bubble tea?” He asked, pointing towards the bubble tea place the two frequented when they dated the first time.

            “I’ll never turn down bubble tea.” He started swinging their arms back and forth as they walked to the little shop, smiling wider than he has in a long time, looking down at her, seeing the same lovesick smile on her face.

            He only hoped this wasn’t a dream. That he wouldn’t wake up and she’d be wrapped in Hongjoong’s arms instead of his. Having to watch her be in love with someone else that isn’t him after hearing her say she loved him. He squeezed her hand just to feel something real, bringing him back to reality.

            She really said she loved him. She left Hongjoong behind to run to him and hand her heart to him. His mind could never come up with something this sweet. “You doing alright, Sangie?” She asked, stopping a few feet away from the shop. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

            “Better than alright.” He answered. “I love you.”

            “I love you too.” She answered with a smile. “Now, I’m really thirsty.” Yeosang chuckled but continued walking, feeling on top of the world with her by his side.  

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[satans-helper]

Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part XIX

Read previous parts here or read on Ao3 // Playlist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: Jake chapter ft. sexual fantasies, masturbation & vampire stuff ;)

Hi <3 I thought today was Friday. Happy early chapter ~

---

Sam trusted him. That declaration had shaken Jake to the core, though he hadn’t let it show. No, he kept that disruption to himself too, tucking it away so he could spend the rest of the evening with Sam and Josh too once that one came home. All seemed to be well. The worst had passed, they were all mending, and he really did hope Sam could rest easy now.

Jake couldn’t, though. He tossed and turned as he lay fitfully awake in bed, switching between staring at the slats of the blinds over the windows and the dark shapes of prints and photos on the walls. But what was really in the forefront of his vision was, of course, Danny.

Sam could trust him to not do anything. Jake would never. But he felt like he was breaking his brother’s trust just by thinking about Danny, which he did often. Almost constantly, really, and tonight was no exception. No matter how hard he tried to think of anything and anyone else, Jake’s imagination drifted back to Danny and it didn’t take long before he was growing hard beneath his flannel pajama pants.

“God. Stop it,” Jake hissed to himself, rolling over onto his stomach. He stuffed his hands beneath his pillow and buried his face against the fabric, groaning as he continued to try and block thoughts of Danny out of his head. But the jostling of his hips brushed his stiffening cock against the mattress and he instantly imagined he was lying on top of Danny, burying his face into long, soft curls that were as dark as the night around him instead of a pillow. 

He rolled back over to take away the pressure and stimulation, but again his dick stirred and stiffened more anyway. Danny was right there in his mind’s eye, tormenting him with his beauty and that darling smile that only fell away as those soft lips pressed against Jake’s own. 

No, Jake thought, turning onto his side and pulling the comforter up over half of his face. Not him. Instead, he tried to imagine someone else in Danny’s place–there was a girl at work that definitely had a little crush on him. She was sweet, helpful, pretty–not so unlike Danny at the surface level anyway, and he tried to picture her there, her rosy lips kissing him, her smaller, feminine hands on his body. 

But then Jake thought of sharp teeth and strong hands and firm muscles and his coworker was gone and Danny was back. This time, Danny was spooning him from behind and Jake swore he could almost feel it in real life–the weight of Danny’s arm sliding over his chest, the heat of his groin pressed against Jake’s ass, the slide of Danny’s calf over his shin. It felt so good to be held, to feel all that warmth and weight against him, keeping him secure, making him feel loved. It had been a long time since Jake felt so much affection and desire for someone, and perhaps even longer since it’d been mutual. What a rare, beautiful thing it was for love to be reciprocated.

His eyes flew open when he thought that, and a sharp pain in his chest suddenly aggravated him. Danny didn’t even like Jake like that; he certainly didn’t love him. Jake knew he wasn’t even in love with Danny either but how long until that happened? As long as Sam was with Danny, Jake would keep spending time with him, getting to know him, falling further and further down the rabbit hole. Unless there really was something about Danny that he wouldn’t like. But even that was too small. There would have to be a part, or even multiple parts, of Danny that Jake would be repulsed by to not want him any longer.

Right now, trapped in clothing and blankets and darkness, Jake felt entirely the opposite of repulsed and only a few more minutes of agony passed before he gave up. He shifted onto his back and kept his eyes closed, maintaining yet another fantasy of Danny in the privacy of his mind. 

After he shoved his hand down his pants and began to jerk himself off, legs splayed and back already arching, Jake imagined him straddling Danny’s hips. He grunted as he imagined their cocks sliding together and Danny’s hand sliding between them to wrap around both shafts; Jake whimpered at the thought of how warm and silky Danny’s cock would feel against his own and the look of pleasure that would be on Danny’s face.

He almost started to go soft when he realized where they were in this fantasy–in his own bedroom. His breath hitched, he tried to put them somewhere else, but his hand was still moving as quickly as his mind and the fantasy was unraveling too vividly to dismantle it. In real life, he bit his lip to choke back the noises that wanted to erupt as his fantasy self pressed his hand over Danny’s mouth to keep him quiet. And Danny’s muffled moan warmed Jake’s palm as his hips rocked back and forth on top, grinding their erections together, while Danny’s hands both landed on his ass and squeezed in encouragement. 

In this fantasy, just one of many, Danny’s hand taking Jake’s cock and stroking him as he pulled him down to kiss sent his head spinning in real life. When sharp fangs sank into his bottom lip and warm blood pooled into both of their mouths, then Danny’s tongue swiped over Jake’s tender, wounded skin, the blackness behind his eyes fizzed and sparked. 

That same energy shot down his spine–Jake’s hips stuttered at the same time as his breath, his heart a wild frenzy in his chest. He had to bite down on his lip again himself, so hard it hurt and the pain only made his orgasm more intense because it slightly mirrored when he was sure his fantasy self felt; he shot his load into his fist and the inside of his pajama pants like a helpless teenager, and he felt the same as he started to come down. Too quickly the pleasure faded away and reality sank in again, leaving Jake panting alone in the darkness, wishing things were different.

-

Jake didn’t feel any better in the morning. It was raining again and the constant dreariness and humidity made the day drag on and on, seemingly endless. His coworker wasn’t a distraction–no, she just made him think of Danny even more. He couldn’t think of anyone at all but Danny. It was getting worse and he didn’t know what to do.

Back home, he lingered solemnly in the kitchen as Josh prepared dinner. All three of them liked to cook but Jake had noticed that Josh had been doing it more often, and with a few new recipes, throughout this whole mess. It was his own way of trying to help out, Jake thought, and that made him feel worse. 

Sam wasn’t home yet and Jake assumed it was going to stay that way for most of the night, and Josh was busying himself with slicing and chopping vegetables, chattering about some new art exhibition in Detroit that he wanted to check out. Jake wished he could focus on his twin’s excitement more, but hearing “Detroit” just made him think of Danny again. Was Danny nervous when they’d all gone there for Sam’s birthday, edgier than usual not only because of the proximity to the twins but because he might run into someone he knew? Or did he never get his fix in the big city? 

Jake pondered this more and more, dazed as he sat at the kitchen table, until another slide of the knife against the cutting board took him out of his thoughts. 

“So what do you think?” Josh asked as if Jake had been hearing every word. He grabbed a white onion and began peeling the skin off, watching his own hands word as Jake did the same, trying to discern what had been asked.

“Sorry,” Jake said, tapping his fingers against the table. “What’d you ask me?”

“Next weekend we could all go,” Josh said, flicking his eyes over to his twin for a moment. “Unless you’ve got other plans?”

Jake gave it a second of consideration, then he sighed and said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Josh sighed and tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling. “Come on, Jake. You and Sam just had your little pow-wow.”

“Yeah. But I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” Jake looked out the window into the backyard, gazing at the trees awash in evening light. “I don’t know if I should be around Danny.” Josh looked at him with ferocity and impatience, so Jake continued before his thoughts could be derailed: “‘Crush’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, Josh. I can’t–” Jake huffed and rested his head in his hand, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to face any visual scrutiny. “I can’t stop thinking about him. I don’t wanna make him uncomfortable, or Sam, or myself, because I’m already uncomfortable enough all the damn time.”

There was a significant bout of silence. When Jake looked up, Josh was moving across the kitchen and sitting down across from him. “That’s why I think this could be good. The more time you spend with Danny, the more you might find that those feelings will fade. Everyone has flaws, Jake.” Josh gave a little smirk. “Even hot vampires.”

“I know he’s not perfect. You can still have feelings for someone even knowing they’re flawed.” With that, Jake looked away again, back outside so he didn’t have to see Josh’s face as the next words came. But nothing except silence followed, so Jake looked at his twin again with melancholy dragging his face down. “What?”

Josh exhaled deeply and leaned back in his chair, surveying Jake for a second before he asked, “What do you think would help? Realistically.”

Anything was realistic to Jake now that he knew vampires existed in the first place. “I think experiencing Danny for myself would help. I could see if it’s, I don’t know, all it’s cracked up to be in my head.”

All of the empathy and patience in Josh’s face drained and were quickly replaced by harsh judgment–not something he often displayed. “How could you say that? And how is that realistic at all?”

“I said it because you asked me,” Jake retorted, irritation and betrayal at his twin’s judgment overshadowing his prior passive blues. “And I think it’s realistic. There’s always a chance that something could happen.”

“Sure, we can talk philosophy all night. But what do you think would happen with you and Sam if you did that?”

“I wouldn’t do it without Sam’s permission.”

Josh shook his head with his eyes shut, pinching between his brows. He let out a rough breath of exasperation, then he started to laugh. “Fucking hell, Jakey. Can you imagine asking Sam that? He’d tear you to pieces.”

“I know, man. But I’m getting to the point of being very willing to ask him anyway,” Jake admitted. “Nothing, y’know, intimate. Just–just one bite. Just to know what it feels like.”

Josh spared his twin a look of pity that Jake would have been insulted by if he didn’t need it so much. Then he stood up and went back to the counter to finish off the onion. “I think that might be even more intimate for them, dear brother, and if you ever ask, you’re going to face a wrath so mighty that no one will be able to save you.”

-

A few more days passed, innumerable fantasies passed in turn, and Jake decided that risking the wrath of Sam was worth it if there was any chance at all he’d finally get some relief. 

He felt like he’d developed the heart rate of a rabbit as they spent what should have been a laidback and fun Saturday afternoon together, mostly spent jamming out together in the garage. Danny was a natural on any instrument but he’d been taking advantage of the drum kit most of the day, and Jake felt tortured as he kept looking at the muscles in his arms becoming more and more pronounced with each movement; Sam actually seem incredibly subdued, hyper-focused on his bass, and Jake did feel a little better–and a little braver–once he got into his own groove, finally losing himself a bit in the music and camaraderie. 

He was glad that Josh was busy elsewhere. Normally having his twin around gave Jake 

more confidence and security, but today he felt like he’d chicken out if Josh were around. He needed to ask this today. He’d face the consequences alone.

Premature adrenaline was pumping through Jake’s body as they all took a break in the kitchen with some beers. His mouth and throat were dry and not even the beer soothed him–he drank two thirds of it in seconds, repeatedly crinkling the can and popping it back out as his eyes darted around the room and he tried to plan out how to ask. The few minutes felt like agonizing hours, and eventually Jake just blurted, “I know I run the risk of being murdered in my own home, but I have a favor to ask of both of you.”

Sam and Danny both looked at him quizzically. Jake was leaning against the fridge; Sam and Danny were at the table across from him, leaving just a few feet and just maybe one second of time if Sam were to lunge. How embarrassing that would be, Jake thought, for them to get into a brawl over another person. That had never happened before. They were too old to have that happen. But he knew that happening was far more likely than what he actually wanted to happen.

Sam was first to break the tension, undoubtedly knowing it was more of a favor from him Jake was asking. “What?”

“I know it’s not my place. I know it’s so wrong for asking and you have to believe me when I tell you that I feel awful for even thinking about it,” Jake began, trembling against the fridge, his gaze switching from Sam to Danny and then back again. “But I can’t stop thinking about this–about Danny–” At that, Sam’s shoulders tightened and his eyes burned into Jake’s own; Danny just looked more shocked than anything, his eyes wide and never moving from Jake’s face. Jake took a breath and went on: “And I think all of this could be over if I just know what it feels like. Just once.”

The pure malice in Sam’s eyes made the adrenaline in Jake’s body pump harder–his mind wanted him to flee, but his feet felt like they were stuck in invisible quicksand. He was sinking deeper and deeper into his own shame, the inevitable terror of Sam, and the horror that he was sure Danny felt. 

“You want Danny to do what exactly?” Sam asked, his voice tight and barely above a whisper. That was even more terrifying to Jake than him becoming his usual emotional tornado.

Thankfully, Danny answered for him. “You want me to bite you? To–to drink from you?”

Jake nodded. “I know it’s selfish. But I need something to like, break this fucking spell.” His words and tone captured the desperation he felt; it wasn’t manipulative, he was just defeated. He didn’t expect it to make sense or for either of them to comply. But he had to try anyway.

More silence and more tension filled the room for a minute before Sam suddenly stood up, nearly knocking his chair to the floor, and grabbed Danny’s wrist. “I gotta talk to you,” he said, then peered at Jake without saying anything to him. Danny staggered along behind his racing boyfriend and Jake watched, pressing himself up against the fridge as they passed so neither of them had to touch him.

He finished his beer as he waited, unable to hear what was being said in the living room–partly because of the blood rushing into his ears, partly because of how surprisingly soft the other two must have been speaking. Then Jake opened another one and drank half of it before only Sam returned, pausing in the doorway mere inches away from his frozen body.

“There are rules,” Sam told him, hands pressing into either side of the doorframe, blocking the way. 

Jake’s jaw dropped. “Are you–you’re serious?”

Sam’s jaw looked tight as he gave a single, shallow nod. “Rule one: wrist only. Danny bites you on the wrist, nowhere else. Rule two: you don’t touch him. Ever. Anywhere.” Dark eyes blazed into Jake’s when he said that; Jake nodded in return. “Rule three: you don’t ask for this or anything else ever again.” Sam dropped one arm to his side and exhaled, then stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Last rule is, you get four minutes and I’m starting the timer now.”

“What–” Jake began to ask, not even sure what was going to come out his mouth next, but Sam stepped aside and showed him the clock already counting down. Confused, excited and scared, Jake swept into the living room to find Danny sitting on the couch looking anything but relaxed. Still, he patted the space next to him and Jake wasted no time. He sat down, making sure to steer clear of even their thighs brushing against one another’s, and waited for Danny to say something.

“Well. We finally get to test the taste theory,” Danny said with an audibly nervous laugh. Jake reciprocated the sound but all he felt was bewildered. Nevertheless, when Danny took his hand and then cradled his wrist, warm, rich desire swirled in his heart past the disbelief. Danny ran his fingers over the underside of his wrist, tracing the veins, and Jake felt faint even before any blood loss. “Maple syrup, right?” Danny added with a slight chuckle, meeting Jake’s gaze.

Jake nodded. “Yeah. Um, yeah, maybe?” 

Danny turned his body a bit, angling himself so Jake’s arm wasn’t being twisted awkwardly. “This is going to hurt, you know,” he said, and Jake nodded again. He wanted the pain. He wanted every sensation that came with whatever this unnatural, bizarre act was. He watched, mesmerized and frozen again, as Danny brought his wrist up to his mouth–although there was no other touching, no kissing, no sexy words, it was better than any fantasy Jake had ever had. It was real. 

His breath caught in his throat as Danny’s lips pressed against his skin; a shocked whimper shot through his chest when those lips parted and those teeth, very much sharper than Jake had even imagined, pierced him and sank into his flesh. Jake’s whole body tensed with the searing pain, beginning so localized but quickly coursing through more than just his arm. Danny’s body appeared to relax, though only momentarily–he sagged into the couch for a second before he suddenly sat up straight and pulled Jake’s arm closer, locking his mouth against his wrist while he sucked and his tongue flicked gently over the wound.

Jake wished Danny was looking back at him, looking into his eyes, but Danny’s eyes were closed. Whether it was because he was so focused, or because he was so enthralled, or just because he didn’t want to look at him, Jake didn’t know–but Jake kept his eyes locked on Danny, studying the furrowed brow, the waves of long, dark lashes and the nearly imperceptible movements of his face as the pain dissipated little by little. 

The pain had been a shock to his system, but it steadily drifting away made room for what Jake had feared perhaps more than anything–arousal. His cock stirred and stiffened beneath his pants, an ache grew in his belly, and it took every ounce of willpower to not break Sam’s second rule. 

Danny slowly pulled himself away; Jake watched the blood drip from the mouth-shaped wound, the teeth imprints obvious, the fang punctures weeping red, a bruise already forming where Danny’s lips had been. His thighs locked and he gripped the edge of the couch with his free hand as Danny licked up the mess, then Jake felt dizzy when he saw the wound close and the bite mark disappear. The blooming bruise remained though, lavender and pink and so tender as Danny traced his fingers down soothingly. 

Jake was still wordless and breathless when Danny turned his hand over and kissed the back of it, lips brushing over his knuckles–it was so brief and soft that it could barely be felt, but Jake did feel it. He felt the tenderness of that even more than he felt the throbbing discomfort in his wrist and arm.

“Are you okay?” Danny asked, finally making eye contact.

“Yeah. Yes,” Jake answered, taking his wrist back and looking down at it for a second. Then he found Danny’s beautiful, surprisingly calm face again. “I don’t–I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

Danny smiled. “You’re welcome.” He averted his eyes for a second as he added, “You do taste good, Jake.”

Jake exhaled. “You think so?”

“Yeah. A little like maple syrup. I was right.” Sam’s phone timer went off in the other room and Danny stood up, extending his hand down to Jake. “Good timing.”

Jake stared at that outstretched hand for a second. “You go,” he said, looking up at Danny’s flushed cheeks. “I just need a minute. I’m sure Sam wants to check in with you anyway.”

Once Danny was out of the room, Jake was sure he could just touch himself once and he’d come in his pants. It was an option–but a bad one. He was still confused and needing answers as to why Sam allowed this to happen so, after another few seconds of ignoring his hard-on and staring at his wrist, he forced himself to get up and meander back into the kitchen. 

But when he got there, he was alone, and he could see Sam and Danny just outside on the deck. They didn’t notice he was there. Jake observed, standing in front of the sink and in front of the open window, watching and listening. 

Danny was hugging Sam tight and Sam was holding him fiercely, those long arms like a vice around Danny’s entire torso. Danny pet Sam’s hair and cradled the back of his head; Sam’s chin rested on his shoulder and both of their faces were nearly invisible past their hair and the closeness of their bodies, but Jake heard every word that was exchanged.

“That was really nice of you, Sammy. So generous,” Danny said, rubbing Sam’s back. “You didn’t have to do that but you did because you’re a good brother.”

Sam’s hands clutched at the back of Danny’s shirt. “Am I still the best you’ve ever had?”

Jake’s chest tightened as he watched Danny pull back just enough to clasp Sam’s face and kiss his forehead. “Always, baby,” he said softly, the words drifting into Jake’s ears with the breeze through the screen. “You’re my most favorite person in the world. I don’t ever want anyone else but you.”

Sam nodded, staring into Danny’s eyes, then kissed him. Jake felt all the heat and lust plunge out of his body, quickly replaced by a profound sadness that yanked on his heart.

But as he continued watching, there was another feeling there too, the one that he’d been chasing for so long–relief. It was strange and bittersweet but still so clear–Danny really, truly, wholeheartedly loved Sam. He’d never love Jake like that, nor anyone else. Watching the two of them and listening made Jake sure of that. And as much as it hurt, it was alright. It felt like that was how it was meant to be.

---

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