#caught red handed fanfic

[your-divine-ribs]

Caught Red-Handed

Words: 6.3k

Doesn't Van ever think about knocking?

Friends to lovers // eventual smut // I have a Sam version of this story on my Wattpad too xxx

Imagines Masterlist Main Masterlist

You'd been friends with Van for years, right back when the notion of recording platinum-selling albums and touring the world was just a dream. He was that friend who you could talk to if you had a problem. He never judged you and he always had your back. He was the one person you could call on if you needed anything. So when you'd had a huge bust up with your friend and house-mate and he asked you to move into his house in Chester you didn't think twice. Larry had moved out just months before and there was Van, rattling around in the house all by himself. He'd never been any good with just his own company… and you were of no fixed abode. It was the perfect solution. There was just one small problem...

The past few months you'd started to see Van in a different light. His striking ocean eyes captivated you like they never had done before. The feel of his body pressed up next to yours when he greeted you with a hug made your heart race. And seeing him with his female fans fawning all over him just set off a sharp sting of jealousy which you had no business feeling.

Now here you were on a Sunday night, lounging on the sofa watching TV and feasting on takeaway pizza, trying not to react to the fact that your pulse had started to quicken the moment Van took his seat next to you, barely leaving a gap between your two bodies.

"Give us another slice of yours," he says, not waiting for your consent but reaching over into the cardboard box on your lap.

"No way!" You protest, slapping at his intruding hand and then snatching the box away out of his reach. "You've already had two slices you greedy git!"

"Come on, yours is well nice," he pleads. "I'll swap ya."

"Ughhh not a chance. It's not my fault you ordered the worst pizza on the menu. I mean who has pineapple on pizza anyway?" You wrinkle up your nose in disgust.

"Well, I'll just have to take control of this then if we're not sharing!" Van announces, grabbing for the remote control and switching channels.

You groan as Match of the Day fills the TV screen. You hate football and Van knows it. He's obviously just trying to wind you up and it's working.

"Hey that's not fair, it's my turn to choose what we watch tonight. Spider-Man's on in ten minutes and I wanna see it."

"Do you really wanna see the film, or just perv over Tom Holland, eh?" Van chuckles, holding the remote control higher as you swipe for it. "Ah that's it, isn't it? Ooh Tom, Tom! You're so sexy!"

He mimics you in a silly girly voice, throwing his head back and laughing as you narrow your eyes at him. God he's bloody infuriating sometimes, like a big kid.

"Shut up and pass it here!" You whine, setting your pizza box down on the empty seat next to you so you can reach up to grab the remote.

It's no use though, he passes it over to his other hand and stretches right out so there's no chance of you getting it from your current position.

"If you can get it you can watch what you like," he taunts. "And if you don't I get the rest of your pizza!"

You rise up out of your seat, leaning right over him, one hand on the back of the sofa near his head, the other reaching over as far as you can, fingers straining.

"You're so bloody annoying!" You complain, kneeling on the seat next to him so you can reach even further.

He just laughs with the widest shit-eating grin plastered across his face, riling you up further. You're almost there, your fingers practically touching the remote, just an inch further and it'll be yours…

And then your foot slips out from under you and you find yourself sprawling forwards, toppling right over into his lap. You're practically straddling him, your chest thrust right in his face.

"Woah! If you want my body you've only got to ask!" Van jokes, his whole face creasing into laughter at your obvious embarrassment as you scramble up on to your feet, your cheeks glowing.

You'd normally laugh it off, come back at Van with some cutting remark, but for once you're lost for words, a combination of your self-consciousness and the fact that being so close to Van has made your body react in all sorts of inappropriate ways.

You have an urge to get away now you're on your feet, putting your head down and heading for the door, mumbling something about not feeling too good.

Van springs to his feet immediately, catching hold of your arm just as you're about to exit the room, gently bringing you to a stop.

"What's up? I've not really pissed you off have I? I was only joking you know. We can watch whatever you like... Y/N? Are you alright?"

You've no choice but to turn and face him, your awkwardness increasing. You just hope you sound convincing.

"I'm okay, it's not you... I've just... come over feeling a bit funny... a bit sick. I think I'm just gonna go and lie down upstairs for a bit..."

Van's face falls with obvious disappointment and then creases with concern. "Hope you're okay..."

You pull away, saying you'll be fine, hurriedly rushing up the stairs and into your bedroom, pushing the door closed behind you and flopping down on to the bed, frustrated.

This has got to stop. You've known Van for so long he should be more like a brother to you. If anything happened it would just make things weird. Not that he's probably remotely interested in you at all romantically or sexually. The trouble is, now you've started to see him that way you can't get the thoughts out of your head. There's no way you're going back downstairs now to torture yourself all the more.

You sigh, resolving that you may as well just call it a night and try and get some sleep. You get undressed and shimmy into the little silk slip that you sleep in. It's far too hot to get under the covers so you lie on top, closing your eyes and trying to clear your mind, hoping that sleep claims you soon.

It's useless. Images of Van scroll through your head ceaselessly. His disarming smile... his stunning blue-green eyes... that cheeky way he looks at you, waiting for a reaction when he's winding you up...

It starts out innocent enough, but then your mind really starts to wander. You recall a morning last week when you'd bumped into Van in the hallway when he'd just stepped out of the shower dressed in nothing but a towel, his pale skin still flushed from the warm spray. Imagine if his towel had slipped...

Warmth floods your body at the thought and you squirm on the bed, pressing your thighs together.

Think about something else Y/N, for fucks sake...

Your thoughts drift to yesterday afternoon. Van was messing around with lyrics for a new song he was writing and he wanted your views on them. A smile springs on to your lips, you love the fact that he values your opinion so much.

This is a safe topic to think of. You picture the scene from yesterday. Van was sitting on the sofa in front of the window, strumming away, his eyes screwed shut whilst he sang, completely lost in the music. You'd been grateful for that so you could watch him uninhibited. The sun was low in the sky and it was streaming through the window, bathing him in a soft golden glow. God he'd looked gorgeous.

You'd been focussing on his hands, his long, slender fingers flying up and down the frets, expertly picking out the notes. His hands...

Oh god.... here you go again. You must admit you've become quite obsessed with his hands recently. His fingers are just so... long...

Just imagine...

Fuck... now your mind's really working overtime but this time you don't try and divert it. It's been months since you've been intimate with anyone after your prick of an ex dumped you, and he treated you that badly you've not felt sexy at all since... until now. Why not just enjoy the feeling? It's only a fantasy anyway.

Eyes still screwed shut, you hitch up your silky slip around your hips, spreading your legs apart. You start to touch yourself over your underwear, imagining it's Van's fingers instead of your own. That's when you realise exactly how turned on you are. In no time your heart's racing and your breathing heavy as you writhe on the bed. Your panties feel damp to touch as you curl your fingers around the edge of the lace and move them aside.

You start to caress yourself, dipping one finger inside you to gather the slickness of your arousal, then spread it upwards over your clit, moving in tight circles.

God that feels good. You tip your head back on the pillow and spread your legs even wider, moving your hips in time with your caresses, little whimpers of pleasure escaping your lips. All the time you're thinking about Van and imagining his hands on you, that familiar tightening feeling building in your core.

What you don't realise is that you have an audience. Van came upstairs a few moments ago to check on you, worrying about you feeling poorly.

He didn't knock. He didn't even think. Now he wishes he had... or maybe not...

He knows what he should do. Back slowly and quietly out of the room, pretend he's not seen you, then carry on pretending he's not seen you. But he can't. He's transfixed. He doesn't think he's ever seen a sexier sight in all his life than you pleasuring yourself. Hair spread wantonly over the pillow, brows furrowed a little, your mouth a perfect O shape. Your body's rising and falling with your deep breaths, your fingers gliding over your slick skin. Christ, those little moans that you're making. He can feel his dick stiffening, pressing uncomfortably on his jeans. And then...

"Oh Van..."

What the fuck?

The shock suddenly snaps Van out of his trance and he steps back quickly, kicking the door as he does, alerting you to his presence.

What the fuck?

Your eyes snap open in a heartbeat and you sit bolt upright, confused for a second until you see Van lingering in the doorway, a stricken look on his face. Did he see... everything? Did he hear his name?

Your heart practically leaps out of your chest and you grab for the duvet, horrified, wrapping it tightly around yourself.

"Jesus Van, haven't you ever heard of knocking?" You cry out, mortified, feeling the colour instantly drain from you in shock but then swiftly return with your humiliation, staining your cheeks scarlet.

Van appears to be speechless, his mouth opening and closing like he's a fish out of water. All the time he's shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Finally he manages to string together some stumbled words.

"I... I'm so sorry. I was... errr... worried about you... 'cause you said you felt sick. I was just... errr... coming up to check on ya."

"Yeah well I'm okay!" You say, your voice coming out high-pitched, your eyes darting around so you don't have to look directly at him.

"I can see that!" He blurts out.

You allow yourself to look at him now, and there's a moment where your eyes lock, and it's like there's a million things you both want to say but you can't find the words.

And then it passes. Van backs clean out of the room, still muttering his apologies, and you sit there in shock... absolutely mortified.

What now?

As soon as your eyes flicker open the next morning it all comes flooding back in a wave of red hot shame and humiliation. How the fuck are you supposed to face Van again after he's seen you in such a compromising position? And, even worse... did he hear you moaning his name? How the hell are you even going to look him in the eye if he knows you've been fantasising about him?

You hurriedly shower and dress and make your way downstairs to find that Van's already there, he's obviously rolled right out of bed and come straight down in the hunt for breakfast.

He stands in the kitchen in just a pair of trackie bottoms, no t-shirt, hair all mussed up and looking every bit as delectable as the full English he's frying up on the stove. Your mouth's watering and you're not sure whether it's the aroma of the bacon or the sight of him.

Your gazes lock as you enter the room and for an awkward moment you don't think anyone's going to speak, but then Van does, and it's an admirable attempt to make things seem normal but it just falls flat.

"Oh... morning love. Want some of this? There's plenty. I was gonna come and ask if you wanted some but..."

You thought you might disturb me finger-fucking myself on the bed?

Of course he doesn't say it but you're both thinking it. You can tell by the tiny hint of a smile that plays on his lips, the way he trails off, looking down, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Errr... no... thanks, I... errr... actually have... a meeting first thing. Thought I'd get to the office early, catch up on some stuff. I'm so busy at the moment. Honestly the emails... they never stop coming..."

Now you're babbling, and you have a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that what's happened will taint your easy-going friendship with Van. You really don't want a silly moment to ruin the precious bond you have. You panic, still mumbling about your heavy workload as you grab a banana out of the fruit bowl and make for the door.

You cringe all the way to work and by the time you get there you're in such a state over it that you vow to try and put the whole thing to the back of your mind or you'll just drive yourself crazy. Thankfully work is busy and you throw yourself into it, managing to completely switch off your whirring brain. In fact you almost forget all about it until your phone buzzes with a text notification mid-afternoon. It's Van.

Van: Hi hope you're ok. Me and Bondy are having a few drinks down the local tonight if you fancy it? x

Usually you wouldn't hesitate, especially if Bondy's down from Newcastle. You love seeing the guys, but you realise that you can't face it and you find yourself grudgingly typing a reply.

Sorry Van, I'm having a rough day and I'm tired already. Have fun and say hi to Bondy for me...

Van obviously does have fun as he's still not back home by the time your eyelids have grown heavy and you've taken yourself off to bed that evening. You can't sleep though, lying there on your back staring up at the ceiling, going through scenes in your head where you and Van sit down to discuss what happened like two sensible, mature adults. The only problem is every single scenario you dream up has the same outcome: Van sniggering like a naughty schoolboy and you ending up red-faced and flustered and even more embarrassed than you were beforehand.

You're still chasing sleep when you hear the key in the lock and heavy footsteps traipsing into the kitchen at gone midnight. You sit up in bed, wondering whether you should get up and speak to Van but then you hear a loud clattering noise, followed by some curse words and muted laughter. He's definitely drunk.

You sigh, sinking back down into bed, listening to Van clumsily banging around in the kitchen, then you hear his footsteps on the stairs. You even find yourself counting the steps, waiting for the moment he'll walk past your bedroom.

And then there's silence... He's stopped... right outside your bedroom door.

You can just make out his shadow in the tiny gap of light filtering under the door. He's standing right there! Your heart almost stops beating and you realise that you're holding your breath, waiting for a sound... his voice, maybe a knock, or maybe he won't knock... again. Maybe he's standing there imagining you like you were last night...

And then you hear him move away.

The rest of the week carries on in the same vein. You blatantly avoiding Van by way of feigning imaginary illnesses or tiredness and enduring awkward encounters in the kitchen that have you quickly scurrying away, and by the time Friday comes around you're running out of excuses.

You've had another exhaustingly long, hectic day at work and when you arrive home you breathe a sigh of relief when you stand quietly in the hallway, listening for any signs of life in the house and you hear none. Great... that means Van's more than likely out, so you've got the whole place to yourself. No sneaking around, no hiding away, you can just relax.

You kick off your shoes and make for the kitchen, on a mission to find the largest glass you can to fill with wine before heading upstairs for a long soak in a luxurious bubble bath. It sounds heavenly...

"Surprise!"

You practically jump out of your skin at the sight of Van in the kitchen as you push through the door. He's standing there holding a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other, the widest grin on his face practically splitting it in two.

"What's all this?" You exclaim, eyes wide, heart pounding from the shock of discovering that you're not as alone as you thought.

"Thought I'd treat ya... 'cause you've been working so hard and I also thought you needed cheering up 'cause you've been dead grumpy..."

"I've not been grumpy!" You protest, aware that you do, actually, sound extremely grumpy. You smile despite yourself.

He continues, placing the glasses down on the kitchen table and beginning to pour out the wine. "And you've been avoiding me."

Shit...

"I've not been avoiding you at all, I've just been... busy, and tired. It's been a long week."

He pauses, looking at you with eyebrows slightly raised. "Oh really? So you've not been avoiding me since..."

Uh-oh. Here it comes. You brace yourself, feeling your cheeks warming, watching his face scrunching in second-hand embarrassment for you.

"Since... The Incident..."

The Incident?  The way he says it, even pausing for effect, like he's talking about some award-winning feature film he's bigging up, leaves you in no doubt that you're not going to be able to get away with pretending like it never happened. He wants to discuss it. Right now.

You shoot out a hand, reaching for one of the wine glasses and gulping at the contents, hoping for the alcohol to dull your embarrassment, but sadly it doesn't work that fast.

"Did you have to bring it up?" You say, swirling your wine around in the bottom of your glass to avoid looking at him.

"Actually yes, I do," he says. "If we're gonna live together we need to clear the air. We can't go on like this. I feel really bad that I didn't apologise properly as well, so I'm saying sorry now. I really should have knocked. I just didn't think..."

"Okay, okay!" You interrupt, relieved that he actually seems to be handling the situation maturely and not descending to adolescent level. "Apology accepted. Can we just forget about it now... please?"

"Uh-huh..." Van nods before taking a sip from his own glass, but he's eyeing you over the rim in such a way that you know it's not the last you've heard of it.

You try for a distraction. "Shall we get a take-away? I'm starving."

That seems to have worked. Van immediately clutches his belly announcing how hungry he is and you suggest Chinese. Van places his phone on the kitchen counter and you spend a while hunched over it, perusing the menu. Then you wander into the living room with your wine, leaving Van to phone the order through.

You smile to yourself. Well... that was pretty painless. Hopefully now you can just get back to being housemates and carry on hiding the fact that you're secretly in love... hold on, no... LUST...with Van. There's no way that this is love. What made you even think that?

Your thoughts are interrupted by Van entering the room, grumbling that the restaurant are busy tonight so your food will take at least an hour.

"Well... we may as well have more wine then," he says, holding out the bottle to offer you more and you gratefully accept.

"Woah, not so much," you protest as he fills your glass so full it's practically slopping over the top. "You know how drunk I get on an empty stomach!"

"Lightweight!" He teases, setting his glass down on the coffee table and taking a seat next to you on the sofa.

To your surprise he doesn't sit facing the tele but angles his body so he's facing you, and when you glance over at him him he's got his eyes fixed on you with a grin. You look away but you can feel his eyes on you still.

"What?" You finally say. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Anxiety squirms in your gut and you take another large swallow of your wine. "Well... I'm sure you're just going to ask me anyway..."

You pretend to pick at an imaginary piece of fluff on your dress so you don't have to look at him.

"Do you... errr..." he pauses for a second before carrying on. "Do you do that... all the time?"

"Do I do what all the time?" You say, playing dumb, but you know damn well what he's talking about.

"You know... last weekend... when I caught ya..."

"Oh my god Van!" You cry. "What sort of a question is that?"

He shrugs, still grinning. "C'mon Y/N. How long have we been mates for? We can talk about anything can't we? I'm just curious... that's all."

The embarrassment is radiating off you in waves, but Van's completely unbothered. Your instinct is to tell him to mind his own business, but you don't. There's something about the thought of discussing such an intimate topic with him that's made your heart thump with excitement.

"Of course I don't do it all the time!" You giggle shyly. "Why? Do you?"

"When the mood takes me. Which is... errr... quite a lot actually!" He starts chuckling, while you shake your head. "Well? It's not like I've got anyone else to do it for me is it?"

"What are you talking about? You're not exactly short of female admirers are you? And probably male ones too! You could be shagging someone different every night if you wanted to!"

Van pushes his hair back off his face. He's still wearing a huge smile. "And why would I wanna do that? You know I don't sleep with fans. And I don't go for one night stands... not anymore."

You consider Van's words. He's right. He's certainly not the horny 22 year old he used to be who took full advantage of having girls throwing themselves at him everywhere he went when the band first started getting a following.

In fact since you've moved in with him he's not had any lovers over to stay the night at all. It was one of the things you were worried about when he'd asked you to move in with him to be honest. The thought of having to smile sweetly at a parade of loved up, freshly fucked conquests each morning whilst eating your breakfast just made you feel sick to your stomach with what you’re now realising is jealousy.

Van hasn't finished. He reaches over for his wine glass whilst he's talking. "It's funny isn't it? Back then I thought I was living the dream, but now I realise how kinda shallow I was. I guess as you get older you realise the thing about sex is it's not quantity but quality that's important."

This surprises you. You weren't expecting the conversation to take this sort of turn, you were anticipating Van teasing you mercilessly about what he caught you doing. You'd been dreading it, but the realisation hits you now that it would have been a lot easier to cope with. Hearing Van talking frankly about his love life is just making you realise how much you want to be a part of it. And it's not just the sex. You want all of him.

"Yeah well it's alright if you find someone you're compatible with I guess..."

Van drains his glass, reaching for the bottle and topping himself up. "You're so right. I mean why settle for a quick meaningless fuck with a practical stranger when you can have a real connection with someone?"

And then he looks at you. Really looks at you. You can feel yourself melting under his gaze. You want him so bad. And maybe he wants you too...

But maybe you're getting this all wrong. Maybe it's just wishful thinking and the wine and the talk of sex that's making you feel like the atmosphere in the room has changed. Your head's spinning with thoughts and you panic.

"I hope the food doesn't really take an hour! I'm starved!" You suddenly blurt out, making to rise up out of your seat, but Van darts out a hand to gently grip your arm, stilling you. He's still got that look in his eyes, a certain intensity that makes your belly flip and your heart stutter.

"I heard you," he says quietly.

"What?"

"I heard you say my name... last week. You were thinking about me weren't you? While you were..."

Oh shit! How are you supposed to get out of this one? You can't deny it.

"I... I..." you start but trail off. Your cheeks are burning and your head feels light and there's nowhere to hide.

Van takes your wine glass from you and places both his and yours on the coffee table. Then he reaches for your hand, his fingers curling around yours, entwining them together. He has an earnest expression on his face as he speaks.

"It's okay... don't be embarrassed. I have a confession to make actually..."

He shifts in the seat, moving closer, his eyes not leaving yours. The air between you is thick with a heady kind of tension which only increases as Van speaks again.

"Since I saw you... like that... I've not been able to get it out of my mind. I think it was the hottest thing I've ever seen. All I can think of is seeing you like that again. I really wanna be the one to make you feel like that... for real..."

"I... I..." you stutter, struggling to form anything coherent, your mind fogging over with lust, imagining what might happen.

Van pulls the hand that he's holding towards him, urging you to move your body around to face him more fully and you comply. He's getting closer still, now just inches away.

"Because I reckon I could make you feel good. Really good... if you'll let me?"

He reaches forward with his other hand, gently cupping your cheek. You want to surrender to him, your body automatically responding, your breathing deepening, nerves bristling, but you find yourself holding back.

"I... I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to... it's just... I don't wanna complicate things. I like you Van. Actually... I really like you."

You feel your cheeks warming from the unexpected confession you've just let slip, immediately fretting that you've said the wrong thing, but you don't need to worry. You feel Van's fingers brushing your cheek, his eyes simmering with desire but affection too. "You don't know how happy that makes me to hear you say that... the feeling is definitely mutual."

His gaze drops down to your lips and back up and you find yourself doing the same to his, waiting for the moment they meet, eager to taste him. But still you hesitate. "Can we... can we just... go slow?"

"We can go as slow as you like..."

You both lean in together, too hasty, teeth clashing. It's silly and awkward and you laugh breathlessly, pulling away.

"We'll try that again shall we?" Van chuckles softly and this time he takes the lead, his hand going to the back of your neck, winding through your hair, pulling you closer.

Your mouths meet and this time it's tentative and slow, your lips brushing each other's gently. You sigh into the kiss as it deepens, your tongues entwining. It's like a release, you've dreamt about this moment for so long and now it's actually happening.

Van's free hand goes to your waist and he pushes you back on to the sofa. You grasp at his hips, wanting to feel the weight of him on top of you and he obliges, pressing himself on to you, his knees sliding between your legs. Just the feel of his warm body flush next to yours makes desire pool down deep inside you and you feel your hips push upwards to meet his like they have a mind of their own.

"Hmm... someone's eager," Van whispers, as he pulls away from the kiss, hovering over you.

"You have no idea," you smile back, your hands sliding between your bodies and going to the buckle of his belt, hastily unfastening it. Ideas of going slow are suddenly the last thing on your mind.

He smiles wickedly, and he catches his bottom lip in his teeth as he looks down on you. "You're a fucking vision, you know that? I've been dreaming about this for so long. What I'd like to do to you..."

"Oh yeah?"

His belt's unfastened now, and you slide your fingers under the waistband of his jeans, but you don't get far before you feel Van's hands on your wrists, gripping them gently but firmly, guiding them away, pushing them back against the chair.

"Nuh-huh, this is all about you," he says. "Told you I wanted to make you feel good didn't I?"

"But..." you start to protest, stopping when he raises a hand and presses his index finger against your lips.

"All I wanna hear from those lips is how good it feels, okay?"

"So I've just got to lie here?" You say, biting back a grin at the smirk on his face as he rises up slightly, placing a hand on either of your thighs, pushing your dress upwards until it's bunched up around your hips.

"Yeah... think you can manage that?"

You feel a little vulnerable and exposed in front of Van in such an intimate way for the first time, feeling the flush on your cheeks, the adrenaline flooding your body with excitement.

His fingers trail down your thighs slowly, tracing little patterns on your skin, and you can feel the small callouses on his finger tips. You're so sensitive to his touch your body shivers every now and again and he watches you intently, a smile playing on his lips as you gasp as he inches closer to the edge of your underwear and then moves away.

"You're a fucking tease McCann," you say, watching his smile widen, his eyes light up with mischief.

"It'll be worth the wait... trust me," he says self-assuredly.

Christ... your heart's beating double time, your breathing getting shallow. You need to feel something, your hips twitching as Van places a palm on either of your thighs, slowly pushing them even further apart. Then he dips his head down, and you feel his lips pressing against your inner leg by the knee. He plants delicate kisses all the way up one thigh, then moves to the other side, repeating his actions. Little tremors shoot through you in anticipation.

"Van..." you breathe, yearning to feel his touch where you need it.

"What's up love?" He asks teasingly, fingers trailing along the edge of your underwear. "What do you need?"

"You know damn well what I need," you whine, impatient. All you can think of is his hands. Those long fingers and how they're going to make you feel.

"Let's get rid of these then," Van says, his fingertips hooking under the waistband of your panties. 

He begins to inch them down your hips, not taking his eyes off you as he does it and there's something about this that builds the tension in such a way that it's almost unbearable. When you feel his fingertips connect with your skin, one skimming over your your sweet spot, your body reacts instantly with a shudder of pleasure.

He leans over you to kiss you again, fingers exploring the folds between your legs, repeatedly flicking over your clit. It feels better than you could ever imagine and you moan softly into his mouth, bucking your hips upwards, chasing his touch as his fingers start to stray away.

"Don't stop," you plead in between kisses.

"Mmm... I have no intention of stopping," he purrs. "Tell me... how does this feel?"

He pushes one finger slowly inside you, followed by another, stretching you out deliciously. You whimper underneath him. "Fuck that feels good..."

You words tail off into passionate sighs and you close your eyes, tipping your head back. His long, slender fingers reach parts of you that you could never hope to, and before long you're writhing on the bed as he pumps them slowly inside you, moving your hips in sync with his motions.

Suddenly his touch disappears, and your eyes flick open. He's hovering over you, eyes glazed over with lust, and you watch as he raises his hand, slipping the fingers he's been pleasuring you with between his lips.

"You taste fucking amazing," he says, licking his fingers clean.

The action simultaneously makes you blush furiously but also stokes the fire that's already burning between your legs. You're so turned on you feel like the lightest touch might make you explode.

"Don't make me wait... please!" You implore, rising up slightly, reaching for his hips, feeling desperate now.

"But I don't wanna rush this, you look too good," he whispers, gently pushing you back down by your shoulders, before placing a sweet kiss on your lips. "In fact I'd say you looked good enough to eat."

Fuck... Your body's pulsing now, the heat between your legs intensifying. Van moves completely off the sofa, his fingers curling around your thighs, easing your body around so he's kneeling in between your splayed legs.

You look down to see him moving closer, and he keeps his eyes on you as he leans in, licking a slow stripe to your aching heat. Then he starts to work you with his tongue, concentrating all his efforts on the sensitive nub of nerves. Watching him pleasure you like this whilst he's looking you right in the eye is probably the single most erotic thing you've ever experienced, but you find that you can't maintain his gaze for long. The sensations are just too powerful and you can feel your eyes rolling back in your head.

"Fucking hell..." you breathe, and he hums an approval, the vibrations travelling through your core, making your body quiver.

You can feel that familiar tight knot starting low down in your belly, sure you'll peak soon, and as if on cue, Van suddenly hoists your legs up on to his shoulders to get even closer. He buries his head between your thighs, lapping relentlessly at your clit, easing two fingers inside you, curving them at a spot that has you seeing stars. You can feeling yourself unravelling at an increasing pace, hurtling towards your climax.

Your hands thread through his hair, tugging it roughly at the roots, losing yourself as the first swell of your orgasm hits you like a hurricane. Then it's wave upon wave of indescribable pleasure, moans falling from your lips, your legs trembling. Van doesn't stop until the last of the shudders wrack your body.

"Oh my god," you breathe, slowing coming back down to earth as Van emerges, leaning towards you with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"That alright then?" He grins cheekily, pulling your dress back over your body to cover you up, then resting his hands across your lap.

"Bloody hell, that was... a bit better than alright!" You say, still panting slightly.

Your body feels wrung out but in the best possible way. Van kneels there looking up at you, hair dishevelled, pupils blown wide, his lips still glossy with your arousal, and you think you might have just been transported to heaven.

"I suppose I should... repay the favour," you say with the most flirtatious of grins, raising your eyebrows at him.

Van's smile mirrors yours as he rises up from the floor, taking his seat next to you on the sofa and wrapping an arm around you, drawing you into a close embrace.

"Oh I'm definitely going to hold you to that love..."

[goodknifeboy]

I know there are a lot of fanfics about Jason being caught by the Justice League and usually getting bailed out by the batfam, but imagine if it was Brucie Wayne bailing him out:

In the JL interrogation room:

Superman: Alright, Red Hood, who is your supplier helping you move drugs in Star City?

Red Hood, who was undercover investigating a drug ring and got caught in a JL bust and sesnses an opportunity to mess with Batman: Look, I know you guys aren't cops, but can I get at least get one phone call?

Justice league looking skeptical?

Red Hood: You can even monitor it.

Green Arrow: Fine one phone call, but it will be monitored.

Hands Hood a phone

Red Hood: Hey Dad, I got stopped by the Justice League. Could you come bail me out? Really, okay, see you soon. Okay, my Dad said that he would bail me, so could we go over to the teleporters?

Green Arrow: Okay, firstly, we aren't cops, you can't just post bail and get out. Secondly, how would this "Dad" get up here?

Red Hood: You'll see.

Minutes later, Brucie Wayne walks in with a trail of Heroes, trying to explain why he cannot be at the Watchtower.

Superman: Mr. Wayne what are you doing here and how did you get here?

Bruce laying the Brucie persona on thick: Well as one of the Justice League's biggest doners and tech suppliers I have access to the teleporters, as for why I'm here it's to bail out my son. Hi Jaylad!

Red Hood fully expecting Batman: What?

Green Arrow remembering his friend's grief over loosing Jason: Ummmm, Mr. Wayne this is the Red Hood. You know "Bag full of severed heads" Red Hood.

Brucie: Yes, I know he's had some issues with his big feelings, but he's still my sweet little boy.

Superman: And you think that he's your late son Jason Todd?

Brucie: Yes, Batman even confirmed it was him. It turns out that after he died, he was brought back by an organization that planned on using him as a weapon against Batman. But he left them and has been working to improve Crime Alley, I'm so proud of him.

Green Arrow: We caught him in Star City with Drug runners.

Brucie: I'm sure he has a good explanation, don’t you Jaylad?

Red Hood still reeling from Bruce showing up as Brucie and not Batman: I was undercover?

Brucie: See perfectly reasonable, now can I please have my baby boy back? Alfred will be so upset if he's not home for dinner.

Surprisingly, this works , the Justice League is to stunned by this revelation and later confirm this with Batman that yes, the notorious Red Hood is the son of Billionaire, philanthropist airhead Brucie Wayne. Jason, meanwhile, has suffered a huge blow to his cred in the Hero community because of the association with Brucie instead of the Batfam. The bat siblings do not let this go anytime soon.

[funkypurpleradiohost]

me and my friend (and tumblr mutual, also yours..) were on call reading a fic and i was looking at the kudos and saying something and we saw you... in the kudos... of a reanimator smut fic... i just thought i should let you know. i yelled out "FUNKYPURPLERADIOHOST??" and we both started screaming. have a good day 🙏

[starkwlkr]

Oh my, imagine you and Hugh have a teen daughter who is like 16 or something, and she goes live and just keeps talking in brainrot terms while you don’t understand what she’s saying.😭😂

ps: love your writing💗

HOT TO GO! | hugh jackman

an: thank you anon for this request, it was so fun to write!! love youuuu

“And there’s my mom . . .” Olivia had walked into your room where you were doing your makeup at your vanity. She held her phone in her hand pointing it at you. “‘Mother is mothering’ I know right? She’s out here serving cunt on a Tuesday afternoon.”

Serving cunt? Did you hear that right?

You stopped applying the red lipstick on your lips and looked at your daughter. “I’m a cunt?”

Immediately the teen bursted out laughing. “No, oh my god! I didn’t mean you. You look great, that’s what I meant.”

The comments on Olivia’s instagram live were going crazy. They found it funny that their favorite actress was clueless.

natsyelena y/n is so adorable 😭

y/nupdates please tell her she’s mother

“The comments are telling you that you’re mother.” Olivia said to you. Again, you were confused.

“I know.” You reply. “I have three kids.”

Olivia chuckled. She then set her phone against the vanity mirror and posed while you continued doing your makeup. It was date night and Hugh had gotten you tickets to see Stevie Nicks perform. Olivia was heartbroken she wouldn’t be able to see her favorite singer, but Hugh promised her they would go see her at her next show as a family.

“What does that mean?” You pointed at a comment that caught your eye.

y/nstyle donatella VERSACE 💜

Olivia looked at the comment and laughed. “It’s a meme, mom. Donatella commented that on Bella Hadid’s post.”

Another comment caught Olivia’s attention.

xmenarchive SHOW HER THE JOSH HUTCHERSON EDIT

Olivia gasped then grabbed your phone since hers was on live. She searched on YouTube for the specific video and showed it to her mom eager to see her reaction. As whistle played and pictures of Josh Hutcherson appeared, a smile formed on your face.

“It’s Josh! I haven’t seen him in so long.”

“Wait what?” Olivia paused the video.

“He visited Jennifer on the set of X-men when I was visiting your dad and we hung out. Your brothers were also there too.”

“And you never told me?!” Olivia yelled. “The mom lore is insane.”

After learning more about you, the comments wanted you to react to THE Pedro Pascal, Steve Harrington, and other specific edits. Olivia gladly showed them to you.

Once you saw the Pedro edit, you giggled. “I’m going to send that to Pedro.”

“Guys, hide the fanfics!” Olivia shouted at her phone.

After coming back from the corner store with snacks, Hugh walked into your room where Olivia was teaching you the HOT TO GO! dance. He looked so interested in what you two were doing.

“You can take me hot to go!” Olivia finished the dance. “Look, the comments are saying you ate that up.”

“What the fuck?” Hugh said when he heard that.

“Guys, don’t worry I’ll teach her everything,” Olivia took the phone from the vanity and saw her dad with snacks. Some comments had recognized Hugh’s voice so they demanded Olivia to show him. “After this I better be everyone’s favorite nepo baby.”

“You’re not even my favorite nepo baby.” Hugh teased. Olivia then showed Hugh waving hello to the live.

“The viewers want me to teach you the hot to go dance.” She read some of the comments.

“No.”

“Oh ok so you hate happiness in others? I see the type of person that you are, Huge Ackman!” Olivia left her parents’ room to go continue her instagram live in her room.

Hugh stood beside you confused. “How did we raise completely different kids?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know, but I learned so many things today.”

[nyrasvoid]

A Knight’s Prize

Gwayne Hightower x Fem!Reader

Summary: in a tourney to decide her future, Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest daughter must choose a husband. Ser Gwayne Hightower, a charming yet unexpected suitor, captures her attention.

Warnings: i don’t think there is any warning yet but it might contain smut if I write more parts (idk tho)

A/N: this is the first fanfic I have ever written so any criticism as long as it’s respectful will be accepted 🙃 btw english isn’t my first language so some expressions might not make any sense for you guys lol

- Word count: ≈1.1K

As the eldest daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Ser Laenor Velaryon, you carried the Velaryon name with pride. At almost ten and eight years of age, you knew your time had come to marry and strengthen your house. Though your mother felt guilty about marrying you off against your will, she decided to organize a tournament, allowing you the choice in selecting your future lord husband, just like she had wanted when she was younger.

The Red Keep buzzed with anticipation as knights and lords from all over the realm gathered to compete for your hand. Among the spectators sat King Viserys, Queen Alicent, and their children, observing the events unfold. The tension between the blacks and greens was palpable, especially since Alicent had rejected the offer of Princess Rhaenyra of marrying Jacaerys to Helaena, calling her sons ‘plain featured’.

You and your brothers had always noticed the looks and whispers of the highborn lords and ladies each time you walked around the Red Keep. You sometimes resented your mother, not for finding comfort in a lover, as you very much did not care, but for finding a lover with such strong genes.

Your mother approached you as you stood in the balcony of your chambers, overlooking the field. “Are you ready, my daughter?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination.

You nodded, your eyes scanning the assembled knights and lords below. “Yes, mother. I am very excited to marry a lord I will most possibly not be fond of and bear his heirs, for it is my duty to the realm.” You said sarcastically as you looked down sadly.

“See,” Rhaenyra said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I know that you did not ask for any of this, but it is our duty as princesses of the realm to bear heirs for the iron throne”. You looked at her “I know it is, mother. I am just scared” you paused as you took a deep breath “What if he mistreats me?”. You mother chuckled “Then you must let me know and I shall fly to you and make Syrax devour your lord husband”. You both giggled at your mother’s words, you saw her capable of it, she had always been protective of her only daughter.

As the herald announced the beginning of the tournament, you couldn't help but feel a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach. The knights and lords paraded before you, each hoping to catch your eye and win your favor. Your gaze lingered on Ser Gwayne Hightower, the eldest son of Otto Hightower and brother of Queen Alicent. Why was he even here if Alicent had already rejected the opportunity to unite even more your houses? Wasn’t he also defeated by your uncle Daemon in a tourney years ago? It would have been funny to see Otto’s face then, the man he hated the most in the seven kingdoms, knocking his eldest son of his horse. Perhaps his father had sent him, he had always been known as an ambitious man.

The trumpets sounded, signaling the beginning of the tournament. You glanced over at Ser Gwayne, who stood confidently with his head held high. He caught your eye for a moment, and you quickly looked away, feeling a surge of irritation.

As the day wore on, you noticed Ser Gwayne’s victories. His fierce determination and honorable conduct impressed you. He fought with courage, that was both inspiring and captivating. After winning a round against a lord from a minor house you had never heard of, he approached the gallery to ask for your favour.

“Princess, it would be the greatest honor if you would grant me your favor.” He said as he took off his helmet revealing his beautiful blue eyes and charming smile “May your blessing guide me to victory in this tournament for your hand”.

You smiled in amusement “Take this flower crown, Ser Gwayne, and wear it with pride.” You reach for the flower crown resting beside you, it blooms the vibrant colors of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon. “It bears the colors of my house and the faith I have in you”. You lean forward, gently placing the flower crown on Ser Gwayne’s lance.

Ser Gwayne bows once more, his voice filled with gratitude. “I am deeply honored, my lady. With your favor, I shall strive to be worthy of your hand”

During a brief intermission, you found yourself wandering through the gardens of the Red Keep, seeking a moment of respite from the intensity of the tournament. Thinking about how your future was about to be decided by a stupid tourney. It was there were you encountered one of the knights fighting for your hand.

"Princess," he greeted, bowing deeply. "I hope the tourney is to your satisfaction."

You studied him for a moment, noting the easy charm in his smile and the glint of mischief in his eyes. "It is, Ser Gwayne. You fight well and with honor.”

"Thank you, princess," he replied, stepping closer. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to find such beauty amidst the flowers.”

“Ser Gwayne,” you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Shouldn’t you be resting for your next fight?”

“I find the gardens far more refreshing than the company of annoying knights,” - he steps closer “Besides, I couldn’t resist the chance to speak more privately with my future lady wife.” he says confidently.

There’s a playful spark in his eyes that makes your heart race. “You seem very confident, Ser Gwayne. Aren’t you worried about the competition?”

He leans in slightly, “The only competition that matters to me is winning your hand, princess”

You laugh softly, both flattered and intrigued. “Bold words for a knight who hasn’t yet proven himself.”

His gaze becomes more intense, a hint of cockiness in his smile. “Then perhaps I should start proving myself next round.”

Before you can respond, he gently takes your hand, placing a tender kiss on your knuckles. You could feel your cheeks heat up. It wasn’t the first time a knight or a lord kissed your hand, but this time was different, you actually felt something.

As the distant sounds of the tournament begin to echo through the gardens, you know it’s time to return. Ser Gwayne till holds your hand, as if he is reluctant to let go.

“I suppose we must go back,” you say softly.

He nods, as his eyes remain fixed on you. “Duty calls us both, it seems.” he said as he let go of your hand “But know this, Princess. My intentions towards you are sincere, it would be a great honor to marry you”

You give him a small smile, though you doubt his real intentions “Words are easy, Ser Gwayne. Proving them is the true challenge.”

“Then I shall accept your challenge, for you are worth every effort.”

You can’t help but wonder if his charm is genuine or simply a tactic. You recall the reputation of the Hightowers, a family known for their ambitions. Are Ser Gwayne’s intentions truly genuine, or is he merely following his father’s orders, seeking to gain influence through marriage?

You walk back to the main grounds of the tournament, his words echoing in your mind. ‘My intentions are sincere.’ Could it be true? Or is this just another scheme by his father, Otto Hightower, to strengthen their hold on power?

As you take your place, you steal a glance at Ser Gwyn. He catches your eye and offers a reassuring smile, but the seed of doubt has already been planted in your head.

The tournament continues, but your thoughts remain divided. You weigh the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes against the ruthless ambition of his family. Should you trust your heart, which yearns to believe in his genuine affection?

Pt. 2???

P.S. if you guys have any suggestions for part two, to improve my writing or anything you think, please let me know 🫨 Btw just in case you want to know, the lady in the picture at the beginning is Kosem Sultan, played by Beren Saat (there are others) she has great dress inspo if you want them for your DRs or fanfics.

[battymommastuff]

The Fire-Eater

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Masterlist

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

*cough*

"Jesus Christ, you'd think they would dust up here once in a while." Jason rasps as he waves his hand in the air to clear the cloud of dust. Dick just rolled his eyes and lifted another box out of the way, causing another cloud of dust to poof into the air, "Where is this damn blanket anyway?" He asked, ripping open an old box to look for the blanket in question. Why? You, their adopted mother, is currently carrying their youngest sibling. The first, and only pregnancy of yours. Seeing that you aren't as young as you used to be, the pregnancy is a high risk. As per doctor's orders, you were to remain on bed rest now that you were close to your due date.

Before that, you'd been working on the nursery. Everything was perfect, but you were missing one thing. Bruce's baby blanket. A blanket you'd only ever seen in pictures, but knew that you wanted it for your future child. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be possible. All of your children were far too old for the blanket when they were adopted. Now you had your baby on the way, and you wanted that blanket. To prevent you from climbing up there yourself, your two oldest sons decided to.

"Some of the boxes are older than me." Dick joked as he held up a box of old photo albums. The date on the box was ten years before he was born. He set the box down, and kept shifting through the boxes. They were looking for a box with Bruce's birth year on it. All of his baby items were stored there. He moved another box then frowned when he saw one tucked in a far corner. It was opened, and he saw a black outfit lined with red sequins, an outfit he swore he's seen before...a circus outfit. What caught his eye next was a rolled up poster, "Hey, Jason." He called out while picking up the poster. Dick unrolled it slowly, then felt his heart sink to his stomach.

A poster for Haly's Circus. The Circus he was apart of before his biological parents died. He still remembered that day as if it just happened. On the poster was a woman eating fire. Her outfit, a black leotard with red sequins lining it. (H/C) hair, and (S/C) skin. Unless Bruce had a certain type, there was no way it couldn't be you. How? How was this possible? He remembered meeting you that night. You were dressed as if you just walked out of business meeting, and you were with Bruce. The date on the poster dated years before you ever met Bruce.

Dick set the poster down right as Jason approached him, still grumbling about all of the dust. He picked up a small book next. Opening it, he found pictures. Old pictures of you, and other members of the circus. You and Haly...you and his parents. You knew his parents? One picture was of you, his dad, his mom, and him as a newborn. You knew who he was before you ever met him? How come he never knew this? Why did you leave the circus? How did you end up marrying Bruce Wayne of all people?

"Holy shit, Mom never told us this." Jason said while holding up the torches and an old bottle of alcohol. What they saw in the bottom of the box made both of their spines tingle. A mask...a Court of the Owls mask. Dick knew the story, and he knew his lineage. He knew his potential fate, had he never been adopted. Why did you have a mask? All of these questions in his head, and he knew the one person who could answer them.

He shoved all the items back into the box, and stormed out of the attic with it. Dick wanted answers, and he wanted them now. He carried the box through the manor with Jason on his heels, while holding back his tears. He felt lied to? Betrayed? He didn't know, but he needed to know. He felt like you were an entirely new person now. Dick opened the door to your bedroom. You were watching as Stephanie painted your toenails, and Damian was lecturing you on your health.

"Oh! Did you-..." You cut off when you saw the box he was carrying. It'd been years, and you forgot about that box. Honestly, you thought you threw it out, "Dick..." Your oldest son walked over and slammed the box on the bed, causing your two other sons and Stephanie to glare at him.

"Start talking, Mom...right now."

[thebiggerbear]

where is she?

Summary: Soldier Boy only has one thought in mind when Homelander wakes him up: you.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Wrote this on July 29th. This was meant to be a drabble and I was going to experiment with a different format at the time but after taking another look at it close to a month later, I decided against it. I haven't seen Season 4 of The Boys yet but I did see a gif on here of something from the finale in regards to SB. This idea popped into my head that day and I wrote it out. Starts from the Tower scene in 3x08, an AU. Unbeta'd. Full dialogue in text is from 3x08.

Warnings: drug use; violence; violence against a woman; choking (not Butcher/Boys friendly)

Word Count: 1019

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444; @faephoria; @believeinthefireflies95; @globetrotter28

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @rebel-paladin; @deans-spinster-witch; @bts24; @roseblue373; @nancymcl; @c1gs-coffee; @peachhiz; @kickingitwithkirk; @fanfic-n-tabulous; @illicithallways; @mentallyillandgae

You burst into the room from the stairwell, finding Ben trying to fight three of your new supposed teammates off, his eyes full of fury and a slight tinge of fear immediately finding you as they slipped a mask over his face. “I’m not…going back…in that fucking box!”

“Get off of him! Now!” You angrily yelled, energy pulsing from your hands as you tried to rush them when Butcher caught you off guard and knocked you into a wall on his way to get to Ryan. 

“Sorry, luv.” His expression was full of trace amounts of remorse as he turned from you but you didn’t care. Your attention was on Ben alone.

When Ben saw you slam into the wall, even more fury seemed to emanate from him and he was finally able to push everyone off. His chest was a bright pulsing red that continued to get brighter and brighter; he was charged up and he was about to blow.

“You’ll kill everyone!” Starlight implored.

Ben’s expression didn’t change and you knew you had to get to him before he went off. You didn’t care about any of them, especially now, and you didn’t care for yourself. But Ben you cared about and you wouldn’t let him do this — not again. 

“Ben!” You called. 

Within the seconds it took for you to get to your feet, Maeve was already launching herself at him and they crashed through the window of the high rise, plummeting stories below. “No!” You rushed to the edge, watching their freefall in horror. “BEN!” You screamed before the impact of the explosion sent you careening backwards.   

When Soldier Boy was woken for the second time, uncaring who was there to greet him, he only had one question. “Where is she?”

America’s Asshole of a Son, now suited up, stared out at the city from Homelander’s newly renovated suite. His own son watched him, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.

“It could all be ours, you know.”

“Don’t care,” Soldier Boy growled out. “Where’s Butcher?”

Homelander sighed in disappointment and approached. He didn’t know much about the man whose blood he shared but one thing was for certain: Soldier Boy was laser focused when it came to revenge. He just happened to be focused on the wrong thing.

When he reached the older man, he studied him for a moment before nearly rolling his eyes. “You actually loved her.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Soldier Boy turned a lethal glare onto him, his pupils dilated from the drugs coursing through his system that he’d just snorted, but it still caught him a little off guard. Homelander didn’t feel shame or remorse; those were human feelings and he was a god. But right then, he felt like a small child scolded by that dark gaze and his shoulders subconsciously lowered an inch.

“Find me Butcher or I will find him on my own,” the Supe threatened before walking away. Homelander watched him go, angry that even while dead you somehow still managed to fuck with his plans.

Right before Soldier Boy was about to strike a killing blow to Butcher, Hughie yelled, “She’s alive!” The Supe froze and turned a scowl onto Butcher’s dickrest. 

“I promise,” the bitch insisted. “I can tell you where she is! Just don’t kill him. Please.”

Soldier Boy’s glare dropped to the man swaying in his hold, his face bloodied, bruised, and swollen. The supe's jaw tensed and he dropped the man to the ground, making him a silent promise that he would still pay for his betrayal, before his eyes landed on Hughie. “Take me to her. And you better be telling me the fucking truth or you’re never going to get to feel the warmth of this fucker’s mouth again.”

Hughie’s eyes widened but he gave a nod. A hint of a smirk teased the corner of Soldier Boy’s lips for a moment and then disappeared completely. Before following the bitch out the door, he gave Butcher one last kick for good measure.

Soldier Boy tightened his grip on Grace Mallory’s throat and lifted her body higher up the wall. He ignored Hughie’s whiny pleas of not hurting the old bitch. “Open it,” he ordered. “Now.”

Hughie did just that. The supe could hear a whirring sound behind him and he intensified his glare at the woman he was currently choking out before turning to look over his shoulder. Out of a drawer, a cryotube emerged, looking quite different from the one he had been in when his pussy of a son had found him. His breath caught in his chest when he saw you inside, slumbering peacefully, tubes wrapped around your barely dressed body. Rage began to flow through his veins when he realized that you had been stocked away inside a fucking sock drawer like a second thought — like you had never mattered. You were the only thing that mattered.

He turned back to Mallory, gritting his teeth, and his body shaking with fury. He saw the lack of fear in her eyes and in a split second, his decision had been made. He flung her across the room, not caring about the sickening cracks he heard when she made impact. For good measure, when Hughie tried to run to her aid, he brutally knocked the kid aside and made his way towards you. Within seconds, he had the cryotube open and he ripped the wires from your body. He curled his arm around your shoulders and carefully hoisted you up into his lap.

A few heartbeats later, your eyes slowly began to open, your lashes fluttering repeatedly as you returned to consciousness. Your gaze struggled for a minute to focus on the image in front of you but when it did, you rasped out in disbelief, “Ben?”

A soft smile played upon his lips as he ferried your hand to his bearded cheek. “Yeah, doll. It’s me.” 

When you attempted to return his smile, he leaned down to whisper, “I found you,” before he gently pressed his mouth to yours.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

banner by @cafekitsune

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[randomshyperson]

Favorite Star - Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Summary: During halftime at the Golden Globes, two guests find an empty room. Or the one where Lizzie's dress is driving you crazy.

Warnings; (+18), semi-public smut, bottom!Lizzie, dirty talking, implied secret relationship, just sinful. | Words: 1.437k

A/N-> This is actually fluff because I'm a sweetheart and Lizzie's face after losing another award made me very upset. And as the saying goes, the devil works fast but fanfic writers work faster.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

-&-

You've been teasing her.

All day, even before the awards began, you filled her cell phone with selfies and short videos of getting dressed in your attire - A dark green suit that hugged your body just right and was chosen to match her eyes, giving plenty of material for every rumor that has been circling about the two of you. Then on the red carpet, with intense stares and hidden smirks in her direction that your Agent probably wouldn't approve of. When you finally greeted her, you even dared to whisper how breathtaking she looked next to her ear and Lizzie should have won an acting award right there for covering the way her body shook at the compliment. 

The Golden Globes party was as full as usual, and it was blistering hot and tedious. She still had to deal with an annoying host, and when the break finally happened, Elizabeth wasn't the only one who breathed a sigh of relief that the performance had been interrupted.

She made her way through the crowd towards the toilets, offering polite smiles to any of the known guests she crossed glances with and somehow, perhaps because she caught your eye before standing up, Lizzie knew you were following her.

Her heart leaped in her chest when she felt her wrist being gently grabbed. She caught a glimpse of your dilated pupils before you took the lead, holding her hand and guiding her into the first empty room you could find.

You let go of her hand to wrap your arms around her waist, a gentle push to have her against the closed door. Lizzie was still blushing because she was sure Meryl Streep had seen the whole thing.

Your lips were on hers in the blink of an eye, and all she could do was sigh, her eyes closing on instinct. Fuck, she missed this. It seemed like forever since you last kissed, Lizzie was almost beginning to think she'd imagined it.

When you broke apart, you were a little breathless, your eyes shining in her direction filled her stomach with butterflies.

"Hello, gorgeous." You greeted her with a smile, your hands stroking her sides. "Lizzie, this dress is... fuck."

She blushed at your affected tone of voice, smiling shyly. Her hands went to the collar of your dress shirt, and she stared back at you with the same intensity.

"I'm glad you like it." She whispers even though the room is empty and the noise of the party outside is enough to drown out the sounds inside. "Do you know what the best part is? How easy it comes off..." She teases naughty an inch away from your lips, pleased with the shaky sigh that escapes you. Your hands tighten a little more firmly around her waist and Lizzie bites her lip before instinctively thrusting her hips towards you. The cue is answered immediately - You grab her dress to put up a little so your thigh can fit between her legs, giving her something to grind against. But instead of giving in completely, she’s all too aware of where she is and the short time you both have before the end of the break. So Lizzie fiddles with your tie. "We can't. Not here."

You pout, the hands on her hips giving a tentative pull, forcing her to grind down into your flexing thigh, and her determined gaze falters into an aroused expression, the blood flowing not only to her cheeks but down her body, at a speed that makes her gasp for air. The hot knot on her lower belly making her dizzier by the second.

"Why wait, when you want it so badly?" You challenge back as if you knew how about the ache between her legs. You lean in to attack her collarbone with kisses that turn her into a panting mess, struggling to keep her eyes open. You gently bite the most sensitive spot behind her ear that you have learned to memorize and Lizzie lets out a soft whimper, her hips thrusting forward on instinct.

But there's movement outside. Footsteps and a soft bell. Break time is about to be over. Lizzie grumbles, the firm hands on your shoulder pushing you gently.

"We have to go." She says, but you don't let go, you pull her face to yours and kiss her hard. Your tongue makes her knees go weak and the only support is your thigh between her legs. She whines again, wishing she wasn’t wearing a dress at all. "Baby, they'll notice-" She manages to pant between your firm kisses, but she's grinding against you with a little more frenzy in the next second. Your hands move under her dress and Lizzie lets her face fall into the space of your neck, unable to care about the lipstick staining the collar of your shirt.

She choked on a moan when suddenly, your fingers reached forward - you just pushed the fabric of her already ruined panties aside and sank them inside her without warning. The throaty moan that escapes her is muffled on your skin.

It's ridiculous how helpless she is; riding your fingers in chase of her climax in near despair. And you're not gentle either, your thrusts are deep and quick inside her because you can't afford to prolong this and the second warning bell will ring soon. The cameras will be turned on again, your chairs will be empty, and more gossip about a possible relationship between the Marvel stars will surface in the media.

But Lizzie is coming hard against your hand, so she can't care about any of that right now.

It's one of the quickest orgasms she's ever had in her life, but she doesn't have time to feel embarrassed about it. You remove your hand to suck your fingers clean as she tries to breathe normally again, her hands gripping your shoulders so she doesn't slip to the floor due to her shaky legs.

You turn your face to her next, kissing her intensely and Lizzie moans at the taste of herself on your tongue. You smile as you break away.

"I kinda wanna skip the party and take you home, Miss Olsen." You let her know sweetly, and Lizzie lets out a short, breathy chuckle. 

But the second bell rings, and the cameras have been turned on. She curses quietly, and you help her to stand up properly.

"Come on, let me help you with this." You ask, your hands pulling her face to lessen the mess that has become her lipstick as she tries to do the same with you. 

But she knows, she knows for sure that her worn-out dreamy expression, the mess in her hair, will give away what she’s been up to. And that not only the other guests, but the fans will know too.

She swallows dryly, tugging at your hand. "They'll know."

You hesitate before giving her a small smile. "Is that so bad, Lizzie?"

She takes a deep breath, her lips cracking into a small smile. "I just... hoped to share the news in a different way."

You absorb her words for a moment, trying to ignore the warm happiness blossoming in your chest. Lizzie wants to go public. You steal a glance at the door before looking back at her and sighing. "Okay, I have an idea."

The whole thing goes very quickly; you pull your cell phone out of your pocket and take a picture of your lipstick-stained shirt collar. She looks at you with a frown.

"What...?"

"Well, you're not on Instagram so this is as good as it gets." You explain, letting her see the photo and the small caption that simply read “a good-luck kiss from my favorite star”. Lizzie felt her face burn, and she giggled nervously. This would cause some commotion, she could already imagine Twitter going insane trying to guess who you were talking to. Knowing her fans, they probably already knew.

She stares at you to say; "Your agent is going to kill you. Not only that, they'll drown you with questions when we are out of here."

You chuckled, offering her a wink. "It was totally worth it."

She approaches again, stealing a short kiss before touching the door handle. "I'll fix my makeup, you go ahead."

You pout. "But my picture was so nice..."

Lizzie rolls her eyes with a laugh. "I never said you couldn't post it." She teases, and it's her turn to give you a wink before walking out the door.

This woman is still going to be the death of you. Honestly.

[skulla-rxcks]

Backstage noises

Paring: idol!Bang Chan x staff!fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: unprotected, bjs, praise

As a staff member you get told to investigate some strange noises coming from the dressing room.

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

A/n: this is based off one of my first skz fics called ‘unexpected activities’, but with more content and better writing! Enjoy!

“Y/n? Once you’re finished packing up those boxes could you see what those noises are coming from the dressing room? Oh, and on another note please go and find Chan, none of us have seen him in the past 20 minutes.” Felix says, walking over to me with a concerned look on his face.

“Of course!” I say. Going back to putting the equipment that was used for the performance back in boxes, and putting them in the closet for later storage.

After packing all the shit away I remember what Felix asked me; he asked me to investigate some noises and to find Chan. I make way through the backstage hallway and reach the dressing room, Felix was right. There is a strange noise, and it sounds like..a man.. moaning? Almost like someone was pleasuring themselves. But in a dressing room for some reason. Jesus Christ how horny do you have to be? I question the situation in my head before knocking on the door, there’s no answer, it wouldn’t hurt to take a peak inside, I was asked to check what it was after all. I sigh and open the door.

“s-shit I was just..” It’s Chan, he covers himself with his shirt in a panic. “you could’ve Atleast knocked..” he murmurs looking away with embarrassment as his ears turn red from being flustered from being caught.

“I did knock, three times actually. there was no answer so I thought someone was in pain and couldn’t speak.” I reply, fidgeting with the bottom of my shirt.

“Yeah well….it wasn’t exactly..someone who wanted help…” His eyes drift to the floor. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it.. it’s not everyday that I walk into someone jerking themselves off.” I look up at him for a split second, his erection that he’s ‘attempting to hide’ is very visible. God I feel like a pervert for looking.

He looks down at me as well when he realized I noticed his bulge. “Uh..yeah, I mean, if you want you can maybe give me a hand..? I’m so stressed lately I can hardly c..cum.” I blush at his words, it’s strangely hot knowing that he knows it’s wrong since I’m a staff member and that’s not what I’m supposed to do but something about the risk gets me going more than I would have expected.

“Alright.” I nod, a slight smile forming on my face. “What if someone comes looking for us though?” The look on my face drops to one of concern. “I guess we’ll have to make this quick then. What are you best at? You know what I mean.” He asks me as I walk towards him. “I don’t know it depends what you want me to do..”

“Could you suck me?” Chan begs with need, his breathing slowly becoming heavier as his mind makes his cock twitch at the thought. “Okay, i doubt I’ll be any good though so don’t expect too much.” I chuckle and get on my knees, lifting his shirt up slightly to reveal his throbbing length, pre cum dripping down it.

“Shit..” he groans as I lower my mouth onto his dick, bopping my head up and down as I take him down my throat. “Yeah fuck. That’s it..” Moans and words of praise come out of his mouth, he puts his hand on the back of my head guiding me when he wants me to take him deeper, making me follow the rhythm he needs to feel good.

“I’d get you to ride me but I don’t have any protection. Can I fuck your face, pretty girl?”

I give him a thumbs up saying yes, as I can’t talk clearly due to his cock blocking my ability to talk from how far down he is inside my throat. I make eye contact with him, watching as his head falls back and listening to the noises he makes as he begins to violently buck his hips into my face, his dick going so deep I can hardly breathe, it’s amazing. “Gonna go deeper and harder, just breathe okay? Tap my thigh two times if you need me to stop.”

I hold onto his thighs for support, keeping myself on my knees as the force of his thrusts go up, making it enough for my small figure to almost fall over and loose balance. “Suck it for me. Take it deeper I know you can, wanna see your face as I stuff your pretty throat with my cock until you struggle to breathe.” Chan groans, pushing my head down onto him while he goes harder, absolutely breaking my throat. “Fucking hell.. I’m gonna cum. Drink it all up and I’ll reward you. Come on baby.” He says, breathing fast and slamming himself into me, doing one last thrust before filling my mouth with his seed, I make sure to swallow it all. After I finish swallowing he pulls out of my mouth with a wet sloppy ‘pop’ noise. I gasp for air.

“Was I okay..?” I mumble, hoping that I pleased him well. “You were more than okay. Tell me what you want as a reward, maybe… sex, head, kisses. What do you want? You deserve it.” Chan pulls me onto his lap, caressing my back.

“Dick..” I mutter into his arms. “bend over for me.” He smiles, helping position me over one of the wooden benches that were in the dressing room. Once I’m bent over I feel Chan tug my jeans down along with my panties, I let out a whimper as i feel the cold air of the room make contact with my pussy lips. “P-put it in.. I don’t care if there’s no protection just.. please!” I beg, arching my ass back. I feel him push into me, I gasp. The feeling of him stretching me out is one of the best things I’ve ever fucking felt, way better than any toy or my fingers. “So fucking tight!” He praises, pushing himself fully inside of me before starting to move, the room is filled with the sound of skin against skin. I moan as I feel his balls slap against me with each sloppy thrust, his movements become more needy and rough, his dick breaking my pussy, making it dripping wet as he goes on.

“Fuck Chris I’m gonna cum!” I cry out, hearing him chuckle in amusement as I call him by his other name.

“Want me to cum inside of you?” He asks. “No it’s.. it’s too risky.. pull out..” I add. “I’m going to.. FUCK!” My body begins shaking in pleasure as my cunt begins to tighten around him, i moan loudly as i cum around him. He pulls out after i orgasm, shooting his load all over my ass and back, before flipping me over to see my face, smiling as he sees how he ruined me. “So fucking good just for me.” He says as he grabs my chin, pulling my face towards him before kissing me roughly, shoving his tongue into my mouth as a result.

“Is everything okay in there? There’s more noises then before.. y/n? Did something happen?” We hear Felix call out from the other side of the door.

“Yeah don’t worry she was just helping me out with a little something..”

[lizzyk137]

I'm Never Letting You Go- Spencer Reid Fanfic (Spencer X Reader)

Summary: Spencer has you worried that he won't want your baby and you don't know how to tell him. Warnings: Angst, brief mention of gun shots, yelling over a dangerous situation, fluff Based off of Season 4 Episode 5

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

"Woo, he's kicking. a lot today." JJ exclaims chuckling, hand on her every growing belly.

Spencer looks up from his case file before rambling, "In the third trimester, there is about thirty fetal movements per hour. Babies kick to explore movement and strengthen muscle."

JJ just stares at him dumbfounded, before asking, "Have you ever actually felt a baby kick?" She grabs Spencer's hand and places on the side of her belly, his face showing his confusion. JJ nods, as they both can feel the baby kick. "You feel that?"

"Does that freak you out?" Spencer whispers, quickly looking up at JJ then back down to where his hand was still be pressed to her belly.

"No, not at all." Her face, now showing confusion at his question, before looking at him teasingly. "Why does it freak you out?"

"Very much so," Spencer says as he rips his hand away and brings his attention back to his case file, earning a chuckle out of JJ.

You watch quietly, your own hand on your small baby bump. Your boyfriend of a year just said a baby kicking freaks him out. You couldn't wrap your head around the grossed look on his face while he said it. You didn't know if Spencer wanted kids, it somehow never came up and you were still unsure of when to tell him, but after he said that you weren't sure if anytime would be the right time.

Spencer was happy when JJ announced her pregnancy, but after that he wasn't himself when JJ was around. Always watching her curiously, like he was unsure if being himself was okay to do around the growing baby. He eventually became more relaxed and even did some research on babies, always spouting out information when he could, but he still wasn't fully acting like his adorably dorky self.

The pregnancy was a surprise for you and early on in your relationship with Spencer. You haven't officially told anyone in the BAU about your relationship, Spencer worried about getting in trouble and wanting to look professional. You understood what he meant, and it was easier to hide your relationship out in the field so you wouldn't be used against each other if an unsub caught you. It may have been easy to hide from others, but not the team. They easily found out but said nothing about it. It was killing them not to tease Spencer about it though, but they respected your privacy when you asked them not tell Spencer.

You tried to keep this a secret though but that proved challenging, especially when the morning sickness started. JJ had caught you red handed in the bathroom one morning, while Emily and Penelope figured it out after you declined wine after a tough case, which you never did. Soon Morgan, Rossi and Hotch found out, all promising to keep this a secret too from Spencer. They were all worried that you've yet to tell him and you were already showing, but with the case load being heavy, you've yet to spend any real alone time with Spencer especially since your belly started to grow, which was surprisingly fast.

But now you were really unsure about telling Spencer and Emily could see the frustration on your face when you walked out of the conference room.

-----

Spencer watched as JJ fanned herself with a case file as she rubbed her swollen belly with a small smile on his face, before turning around to realize Emily caught him, a smirk on her face as he tried to play it off like he was just looking around.

"You considering it?" She asks, Spencer looking up at her.

He looked at her, eyebrows furrowing. "Considering what?"

"Having baby geniuses one day." She looks confidently at him before it was replaced with a teasing glint in her eyes.

His face turns to one of consideration before the phone rings and he quickly answers it, glad to have a distraction from the question asked of him.

He didn't understand her question nor the sad look on her face after he dodged her question. She quickly got up while he was still on the phone, his eyes following her as she quickly made her way to you before whispering in your ear. You got up quickly, one hand covering your mouth and another your stomach as you ran to the bathroom, Emily hot on your heels.

Where you alright? Where you sick? Did Emily say something to you to make you so upset? What did Emily say anyways and why did she run right to you after asking him such a personal question.

Spencer didn't want to admit to himself that he did want a family, especially with you. It was still so early on in your relationship and your careers that he didn't want to scare you away with talks about wanting a family. So, he did everything he could to deny his interest.

He just didn't want to lose you.

----

You were avoiding Spencer as the case went on. You knew it wasn't right or healthy but after seeing him showing disgust and zero interest babies, you just didn't know how to approach him. You were being dumb, and Rossi did let you know that.

"My sweet girl, you are starting to show, just tell the kid. You'll figure out what to do, no matter what he says." Rossi gave your hand a small squeeze. He was always soft with you, thinking of you like a daughter, though sometimes you could go without the hard parenting.

Emily reminded you that you all had them no matter if Spencer wanted to be in the picture or not.

You nodded, trying hard not to think about Spencer not being with you anymore. You loved him too much and you didn't want to lose him.

----

You were running top speeds towards the train, somehow beating Morgan to the train's ladder as you climbed up it, making your way to the top before taking off again as you made your way from one car to the next. Morgan was trying to catch up with you, yelling at you to be careful as he let the team know via his head set about what you were doing.

Spencer was worried, he knew you were upset with him, though he couldn't figure out why, but he didn't want you getting hurt, it would be something else you'd have to worry about with whatever he may have done.

"Hotch get her quick, she's too close for my liking!" Morgan yelled out.

"Oh my god, Morgan catch her!" Rossi screamed a second later, Spencer's heart stopped beating for a second waiting for news on if you were alright. Gun shots rang out and Spencer rubbed his hands over his face.

"All clear, we're safe." Morgan's voice rang out a few moments later.

Within the next half hour, he saw you make your way through the double doors, a frustrated look on your face while Morgan, Hotch and Rossi followed behind you, clearly upset and lecturing you.

Spencer ran over to make sure you were okay, but Morgan cut him off, stopping you in your tracks. "You're pregnant and you need to start looking out for the baby not just you." His voice was hard and loud, before continuing, his voice shaky. "If I wasn't there, you and your baby could have been hurt, or worse killed."

Spencer's feet had already stopped and he could feel his jaw slack and opened at Morgan's words. Your eyes grew wide as you saw him standing behind Morgan stunned.

"Oh Spencer..." You whispered before he took off running. You ran behind him, ripping your vest off as it constricted your belly.

You headed out into the night, the warm air slapping you as you came out of the cool building. "Spencer! Wait!" You yelled out, your legs still shaky from almost falling off the ladder of the caboose train before Morgan caught you.

Spencer suddenly stopped, almost causing you to run into him before he suddenly turned around and looking at you through tear filled eyes. His body shook and he went to point at you before bringing his hand down to his side. "Your pregnant?" His voice was barely a whisper but still strong.

All you could do was nod.

"How long have you known?"

You gulped, your eyes barely reaching his. "I'm a little over four months along."

"You've known for that long and you haven't told me?" He was furious now, tears streaming down his face as he stared at you.

You shook your head, tears starting to fall. "I didn't know how to tell you. You haven't shown any interest in wanting kids." The next part, you whispered, not wanting to think about the look he gave to JJ's moving belly. "You said it freaked you out."

He looked at you confused before his face softened as he looked at your broken face, tears falling down your face as you stared at the ground. He took a step forward before wrapping you in his arms. "Baby, no. I-I just said that and acted weird because I didn't want to scare you away with talks about wanting a family." You sobbed into his chest at that part, your short arms circling him. "I want nothing more than to be with you, start a life with you and have little geniuses running around." He chuckled, using what Emily had used to talk about his babies. Now he realized what she was hinting at.

You were pregnant. He was upset with you for hiding it, but he couldn't blame you for not knowing how to tell him, especially with how he acted. He stroked the back of your head, planting little kisses in your hair. "Are you sure you want to be a dad right now?"

He chuckled at how cute your mumbling in his chest was. He pulled away, putting both hands on the side of your face, forcing you to look at him, his smile wide. "Y/N, I couldn't think of a better time."

A smile crept onto your face, before he brought his lips to yours. "Thank you. I'm sorry I kept it from you." He just shook your head.

"There is nothing to apologize for, except for the amount of stress you put me under tonight going after that unsub." You laughed as you pulled him back into a hug. "Promise me that you'll be safer?"

"I promise." You mumbled, sleepiness starting to get to you.

After a few moments of silence, he pulled away from you, his eyes soft with curiosity. "Um- can I feel?" He looked and nodded down towards your belly.

You giggled at his nervousness as you finished taking off your vest, your hand naturally resting on the small bump that was showing through your tight tank top.

His hands shakily came to your sides as he knelt down before giving your belly a kiss then introduced himself as your baby's daddy, making you laugh aloud. A small movement in your belly stopped you, Spencer and you slowly looking at each other with wide eyes before you jumped up and down shrieking with joy, the team coming out of the station, worried something happened.

They watched as Spencer picked you up, twirling you around both of you laughing and shrieking with excitement at the growing life inside of you. Their smiles growing as they made their way over to the two of you to celebrate.

Spencer twirled you again as you kissed him before pulling back to look into each other's eyes.

I'm never letting you go, you both thought.

[anundyingfidelity]

OUT OF MIND — Soldier Boy/Ben

Summary: Ben believes he's alone in the lab, that you're just a product of his imagination and insanity. Is not like that, you're more real than he ever thought.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1.3k.

Warnings: sexual content, p in v, blowjobs, handjobs, heavy non-con (such as reader taking advantage of Ben), nudity, some angst, mentions of torture and being unconscious.

Note: *another one* this is part of @artyandink Jensen's drabble marathon (if it can't be due to the content of this is totally okay tho!) Anyway hope you like this dark piece of crap I had on my drafts because I could never write a long fanfic ever again, I'm taking so damn long to write.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

The last doctor left, metal door closing behind his back, leaving you all alone with the man lying down in a too uncomfortable stretcher, hands and ankles tied.

The doctor's instructions were clear. He didn't care what you'd do to the experiment in the room. No one cared. As much as a scientist you were yourself, you stayed until late, admiring the former hero at your complete mercy, with nowhere to go or a voice to yell for help. Not that he might needed though.

The room was cold as you paced to remain by his side. His chest going up and down, eyes closed as he slept thanks to the dosis of gas you always administered before taking the tests of his blood and getting into the good part: the torture.

Tens of scientists and doctors stepped the lab to test his strength and powers, gifting him of endurance and new abilities along the way. You were one of them. And this was your price for making him indestructible instead of killing him, switching completely the main objective of the reds. You never really talked to Soldier Boy, more than just the silent moans and gasps leaving your mouth when you actually got into business. Ninety nine percent of the time he was unconscious under the effects of the gas, but he did caught you on top of him a couple of times, or just sucking him off until he was hard in your mouth. The only thing further than talking was his green eyes staring at you, just as he woke up from the slumber. But that made it a thousand times better.

With your fingertips, you traced his bare arm. The skin hot against your hand, finding the way up to his muscular chest, and then down his stomach, stopping right above his crotch. Your mind started wandering all over with the past memories of you and him inside that same lab room.

It was wrong, but you couldn't stop.

You've done this countless of times, what was with doing it again? Besides, he was a piece of shit of a man as far as you knew, using women as appliances and then tossing them like garbage once he was bored. You had to have fun too. Your hand went under his pants, softly playing with his shaft, as your free one went to brush away the mess his hair was doing on his forehead, so delicately.

His cock grew hard thanks to your touch, jerking him off smoothly. It only made you yearn for him more, the wetness between your legs increasing as you rubbed your thighs together to feel some friction that could relief you for a moment.

You pushed your skirt up and took off your panties, completely desperate to feel him inside you. But before you pulled his pants down enough to free his dick, ans you leaned down to take the tip of his cock between your lips, sucking him just right to earn a somewhat loud gasp from his throat. You took him deeper in your mouth, soaking his shaft with your saliva and stroking with your hand what couldn't fit.

Just as you tasted some pre cum, you pulled back and climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs and lining his cock with your cunt, rubbing yourself on his length. You moaned softly sinking down on him, your tight, wet walls engulfing his dick, until your ass met the hot skin of his thighs. His cock twitched inside you as you rolled your hips in slow, deep movements, that soon became desperate. Biting your lip, you unbuttoned your blouse and pushed your bra down. Quickly, you held on his chest with the palms of your hands, riding him.

Soldier Boy brows furrowed, his breathing became unsteady as much as yours. Sometimes he looked like he would wake up in any minute, but he wasn't really able to. The features on his beautiful face used to change as you had your way with him because it was natural, and you loved to be in control. The only thing you'd regret was his big hands not being put into good use because of the restraints around them. You were so close to your climax that you wished he could bury his nails on your ass and mark it red while you're bouncing on his cock. Maybe someday you'd do it the right way. But not right now. Control suited you and you liked being on top anyway, playing with your tits at your own pace as they bounced with every thrust.

His cock met the deepest parts inside your pussy and you played with your clit and your folds, reaching sweet release and coating his cock with your juices. You continued the steady rhythm of your hips, going for a second orgasm, his dick throbbing so hard you would just fuck him until he spilled inside.

You let out a raspy moan as he came, filling you up and triggering your climax again, thighs shaking. You recovered your breathe, feeling his cock softening inside your pussy. His brows went back to normal, but you felt his heart still racing. Shifting on top of his cock, you reach his bearded cheek, caressing his features.

"I wish I could see underneath all this," you mumbled. "But I'm afraid you'll wake up for real and kill me."

You smirked just a little at the thought. Probably he'd just agree to fuck you if he was awake and back to his old self again, not drugged, not put into sleep. He was the perfect toy nonetheless.

But then, his eyes fluttered open softly. He thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, watching your face as the bright, white lights iluminated the room. Soldier Boy often believed you were a ghost from his twisted mind, that there was something inside his mind tormenting him to the point he was being used for sexual pleasure by an unknown entity. But your touch, the heat of your body, and your weight over his own told him otherwise. You were fucking real, straddling his lap, with his dick buried balls deep in your tight cunt, tits out and messy hair and lab coat. Soldier Boy groaned, hands clenching into fists.

He spent so much time, decades, inside those concrete walls that there was this primal need inside that couldn't be met. And you were there to make it true from time to time, even if he wanted it or not.

"Good morning, sunshine," you mocked when he tried to free his wrists, but was too weak to do so. "The gas effect is fading away I see."

He grunted as you pulled off from him, climbing down to fix your clothes and putting your panties back. Soldier Boy tried to scream, but his throat was sore; he had to fight the restrains on his limbs, however it was useless. He was so powerless and fragile for a moment.

"Shhh, it's okay," you whispered, putting your hand on his forearm. He looked at you with a mixture of fear and rage. "You're gonna be okay. I always take care of you," you smiled as the stretcher began to shake while he tried to set himself free. "Now don't try it, you're a good boy. Aren't you?"

Soldier Boy groaned like a scolded puppy once you combed his hair with your fingers.

"You've been here for a long time, and no one has ever taken such good care of you as I do," you said, leaning down until your lips were close enough to his ear. "So you better obey me and keep being a good bitch for me."

Once you pulled back, he got the perfect close up of your face before you turned around and left the room, the sound of your heels echoing before the metal door finally closed. In less than five minutes, the chamber was filled with novichok.

Before sleeping again, Soldier Boy knew it was real.

The woman fucking him on his dreams and living nightmares was so damn real.

Soldier Boy taglist

@delaynew

@k-slla

@thesilmarillionblog

@onlyangel-444

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@daisy-the-quake

@jackles010378

@mostlymarvelgirl

@deans-spinster-witch

@drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2 @sapnaploves

@believeinthefireflies95

[valsdelulucorner]

could you please do mammon night time headcannons please, I love your writing

thank you<3

Mammon, night time with you<3

Mammon is a model and does photoshoots on the side, so that he needs to keep his teeth and skin in good condition. Sometimes before you both head to bed, he will remember last minute and drag you off to the bathroom to do your nightly routine in his bathroom. 100% open to doing skincare and face masks with you if you do them, but when your gone he normally just washes his face with soap then put a little moisturizer on his nose, chin and forehead. Definitely holds your hand when you both are brushing your teeth, be acts like its nothing but his cheeks go bright red

If you guys don't have school tomorrow, he will probably stay up extra late with you because he loves spending time with you, every moment is precious. He will put on a movie on his projector and cuddle up with you on his sofa, his head on your stomach and his arms wrapped around you, your hands entangled in his hair. Once you both stayed up late watching movies on a school night and were caught by lucifer in the morning, dead asleep on each other as a movie auto plays in the background. He groaned before leaving the room, he'll have a talk with you both but for now he'll just focus on his own problems

He loves falling asleep to the sound of your voice, he doesn't know why but he finds your voice comforting. It doesn't matter how deep, squeaky, high pitched, soft spoken, raspy, quite, or loud your voice is, he finds comfort in knowing his favourite human is talking with him, knowing that your voice is the last thing he will hear before he falls asleep. Just speak with him with your fingers playing with his hair and he'll be out like a light

I've mentioned in past fanfics that Mammon suffers from nightmares from when belphie left you lifeless in his arms, It doesn't effect him all the time but when it does, he likes it when you are close to him, it gives him that comfort knowing his human is alive and next to him. Sometimes you wake up to him quietly sobbing into your neck, whispering "thank you"'s and "dont do that again" against your skin while he holds you in a death grip

If you have long hair or if you have a specific hair routine that you do before going to bed (putting it in a bonnet, braiding it, putting hair products in, ect.), he will 100% help you with that if you ever need. He likes being around you as embarrassing it is for him to admit but he would gladly just sit with you if you want to do it on your own. Hes willing to wait with you for as long as you need

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

Its short and sweet, i love this man so much I cant even<3

Sorry for it being so short but What should I do next?

[milkteabinniechan]

♡caught - han jisung

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. commissions/m.list

warnings: masturbation, pillow humping

a/n: hannie is so fun to write for! disclaimer: if you don't like pillow fucking, read something else please!! That being said, I hope y'all enjoy this installment<333

"Mm.. fuck." Jisung's hand was moving at a quickened pace. The shirt between his teeth was starting to soak.

Jisung's legs were also starting to shake. He knew what that meant. He knew he was close. The typical images flashed through his mind as his slick palm squeezed his shaft. The impending orgasm was glaringly close, he threw his head back and waiting for the-

"Hey, Jisung! Can I borrow your phone charg-" Minho stood in the doorway, mouth agape.

Jisung quickly grabbed his pillow and covered his bare lap and his impossibly hard cock. His face was growing in redness by the second. His cheeks burning as he and Minho held eye contact.

"Uh, nevermind," Minho finally spoke, "clearly you're... busy." His smirk lingered as he slowly shut Jisung's bedroom door.

Jisung's ears burned as he held tight to the pillow laying strategically on his lap. His cock twitched eagerly, pleading for attention. He tried desperately to think of something else to make the raging, pulsating monster die down beneath him. There was no way he could finish now. Now that Minho knows what he was doing. He had probably already told the rest of the guys what he was doing too.

His rigid length moved ongoing from under the pillow. A frustrated growl left his lips as he slowly moved the soft fabric around. The pillowcase stroked his tip, making his hips buck up and pierce the fluff filled cushion. Jisung whimpered faintly as his hips continued to press into the pillow. His hand open and holding the cushion in place.

Fuck, this feels so good. Too good. His thoughts were swarming and swirling. I forgot how great this feels, Jesus, I can't last much longer...

Jisung had found his perfect speed again, pushing flawlessly into the plush of the pillow. He could feel his thighs shaking again, the knot in his stomach achingly praying for a release. Please, please... Jisung whined into his shirt, returned to his mouth, now pinched fully between his teeth. Saliva dripped down his bottom lip and made a perverse dollop onto the textile of the white pillowcase.

Fluid spread like a dream across his bare lap. His seed now coating his thighs in a glossy, pornographic display. He let the pillow fall to the floor as he hung from the chair in exhaustion, his arms dangling at his side. A smile slowly crossed his face. He contemplated joining the rest of the guys in the living room. He figured everyone was home now, or visiting. Instead he just lied there in his chair, enjoying what was left of the high of that perfect fucking orgasm.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell

[hp-hcs]

ngl i’d lose my mind for some bottom mattheo x male reader content, there isn’t enough 🤧

(is there any at all just asking for a friend)

• smut • “best friends”, my ass (and your ass too, while we’re at it) — best friend! submissive! bottom! mattheo riddle x AMAB! soft top! reader

stuck in the hospital for the foreseeable future, so have some more shitty fanfic, my lil gayass weirdos

i’m also really fuckin high on pain meds rn so this is undoubtedly gonna be the most shameless fuckin smut i’ve ever written yw ig

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Would you fuck me?”

Your head shot up to stare at Mattheo with comically wide eyes as he burst into your dorm room and shut the door behind him.

You managed to splutter out a very caught-off-guard, “I- what?”

“Would you fuck me, Y/n? Pretty please, with a condom on top?”

You just stared at him, mouth agape in shock. Finally finding your voice after a painfully long moment, you asked, “Are you high?”

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “Entirely sober, I assure you.”

“Then- then why are you…?”

He sighed dramatically and trudged over to your bed, falling face down onto it. “Please?”

“That’s not really a reason, Riddle.”

“Fine! Fine. I want to lose my bottom virginity, alright?”

“I swear to Merlin-” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Why me? You can literally just breathe and have people throw themselves at you. So why me?”

“Well…I want to- I wanna try being, like…submissive,” he mumbled, obviously embarrassed. “An’- an’ I trust you t’ take care of me ‘n be gentle an’ shit.”

“Damn, alright. Yeah…” you trailed off. “Shit, I mean, I’m flattered, really. Uh, yeah- yeah, I’ll do it.”

He visibly perked up. “Wait- really? You’d really do that for me?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “What else’re friends for?”

“Oh, so we’re still on the whole ‘best friends’ bullshit, huh?” He snickered.

“I’m already regretting this,” you sighed, actively choosing to ignore what he said. “This is a terrible idea.”

~~~

“This was a brilliant fuckin’ idea,” you gasped as you sank into him, moaning at the sensation. He was so tight and warm around you that you had to pause for a second just to catch your breath.

Mattheo whimpered underneath you, his face screwed up in mild discomfort. You gently stroked his side, pressing tiny kisses to his cheeks and murmuring, “Oh- you’re doing so good, sweetheart. So, so good. Y’feel amazing.”

Mattheo whimpered again, his fingers tightening their grip on your shoulders.

You let out a shaky breath, trying not to lose your composure. “Baby- baby, please- can I move?”

“Gimme- g-gimme a sec?” He whispered, his voice wavering.

“O-of course, honey,” you murmur back, trying to stay as still as possible for his sake. “Take as long as you need.”

After a moment of listening to his shaky breaths slowly even out, you eventually heard a softly whispered, “Okay, you can move.”

At his permission, you slowly started to move in and out. You groaned into his neck. “Merlin- you feel incredible, baby.”

Mattheo gasped when you hit a certain spot with a particularly hard thrust. “Fuck! There- do that again!”

You complied with his request, increasing the strength behind each movement until Mattheo was a whimpering, moaning mess beneath you. He cried out your name as he quickly came, his fingers scrabbling for hold on your shoulders and his nails digging into the skin.

You moaned loudly as he tightened around you, your stomach flip-flopping at the intensity of the sensation. You made a move to pull out, but Mattheo quickly tightened his shaking legs around your hips, tugging you back in.

“Please, no,” he begged. “Need- need- please!”

“Shh,” you shushed him, running a gentle hand up his stomach and chest. “Take a breath, honey. Tell me what you need.”

“Need-” His cheeks flushed and he covered his face with his hands in embarrassment. “Need y’to keep going.”

You grinned, the tips of your ears going red.

You gripped his hips, resuming your original pace. Mattheo’s eyes practically rolled back in his skull as his jaw dropped from the overstimulation.

You grunted, speeding up to chase your high. You came with a low moan of his name, your orgasm hitting you out of nowhere like the goddamn Hogwarts Express.

Your arms shook and gave out as you collapsed on top of him. You panted heavily before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and pulling out; rolling off of him and onto your back as you tried in vain to catch your breath.

He grinned and curled into your side, his slow and steady breaths warm against the crook of your neck. You both sat in a comfortable silence for a long moment before Mattheo interrupted it.

“So…best friends, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Why don’t you make me?”

[emilys-bangs]

loved your other fanfics for Emily! Could I request a Emily x fem!Reader fic with fluff and maybe some angst? Maybe one of the two gets hurt and the other is scared for them? <3

Thanks! And tysm for requesting! I hope this is similar to what you had in mind <3

———— Wounded hearts | emily prentiss x reader

Tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, typical cm violence, mentions of blood, use of petnames, no use of yn, bau!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Your heart flutters like a raven’s wing. Even now, with Emily right in front of you, sitting on the ledge of an ambulance and grumbling at the EMT—more than enough sign that she’s actually okay—you feel the residual fear lingering in your bones, sticking to your skin.

The unsub was operating out of an abandoned warehouse. It was huge, covering several blocks, and you were running out of time; he had a pattern of killing once every three weeks before going dark for a whole year, and then striking again.

Hotch had the team split up to search the property, and when all of you had reported back except for Emily, your heart dropped to your stomach. You ran to the section she’d occupied, your footsteps thundering on the floor as you yelled her name, the sound echoing in the endless space.

When you finally found her, Morgan was there, handcuffing the unsub on his knees as Emily stood in front of them, breathing heavily. She was holding up her arm, blood dripping down her elbow and to the floor, her chest heaving as she tucked sweaty bangs behind her ear with her other hand.

“Emily.” Your voice broke. When she turned, her eyes dazed from the blood loss, you saw the bruises and split lip. Your stomach had churned with nausea as you caught the unsub’s bloody knife, darkened with your girlfriend’s blood. 

Emily could hold her own, you knew that. And as beaten as she was, she still managed to take control over the unsub, keeping him subdued just until Morgan came to cuff him. But the logical part of your brain hadn’t reminded you of that as you heard her labored breathing, saw the dark drip of her blood fall to the cement floor. You only saw the slight way she swayed, the small huff of relief she let out as your eyes met hers. Only felt the twist in your stomach at the stark bruises marring her face.

As you pull yourself out of the reel of memories, your gaze sharpens on her again.

She sits on the very edge of the ambulance, ready to stand the second the medic gives her the all clear. Her pale skin is darkened with bruises, the ivory of her cheek lost in a layering of blue and deep purple. Red crawls up her jaw, the imprint of the unsub’s knuckles still lingering on her skin and growing more obvious as she grinds her teeth at the EMT’s prodding. He bends over the long gash on her arm; it runs from the bottom of her thumb to just shy of her elbow.

The blood is wiped away now, only forming in beads along the gash, but the sheer length of it makes your stomach churn. Emily must feel your searing gaze on her, because she ignores the medic and looks up, forcing her grimace away as her eyes meet yours.

You haven’t said anything since you’d found her, but the fear still clings to you, making itself known in the way you bite your lip and fiddle with the material of your shirt.

“Babe, I’m fine.” Emily says, her voice raspy as she tries for a smile. It tugs more at the gash on her lip and you frown as blood blooms red again. “Can you stop worrying? Please?”

She might as well have asked you to stop the sun from rising.

“Can I stop worrying?” You give a small scoff, mostly to clear your voice from the tears gathering at the back of your throat. “Your face is ten shades of purple, Emily.” You hate the way your voice shakes. “Your arm was practically ripped open—”

“Honey, it doesn’t even need stitches,” she coaxes.

“Um, actually it does.” The EMT interrupts softly. He’s young, clearly still fresh, his hair flopping over his forehead and his frame lanky with youth.

Emily gives him a dirty look. “Can we have a minute?” She bites out through her teeth, her eyes murderous as she rips her arm out of his hold.

The EMT shies away. Ducking his chin into his chest, he mumbles, “Sure,” and scurries to the front of the ambulance, leaving you and Emily alone.

“He’s just trying to help.” 

The way your voice shakes doesn’t go unnoticed by her.

Emily’s eyes go soft—the way they always do for you. She taps the space next to her. “Sit with me.” She murmurs.

You do. The ledge of the ambulance is hard and your shoulder bumps gently against hers, but you look straight ahead. Her eyes are hot on your face; you focus on the dark silhouette of the warehouse, still too unsettled by the bruises on her skin. 

Deep down, you know it’s ridiculous. It’s not the first time you’ve seen her like this and you both know damn well it won’t be the last. Maybe, if you try to justify it, you could chalk it up to the fact that this is the first time she’s gotten hurt as your girlfriend. 

Not SSA Prentiss. Em. Up till now the only bruises you’ve seen on her alabaster skin were ones you’d put there yourself, marks of love from your teeth and hands and lips, tattooing your reverence on her body if only for a little while.

Tears sting behind your eyes as Emily reaches for your hand. Your fingers are loosely held in a fist, but her hand curls around yours. Slowly, she coaxes it straight and laces her fingers through your own, then turning them so your joint hands settle on your thigh, palm side up.

“I’m okay, dolcezza.” 

If not for the rasp to her honeyed voice, you might’ve believed her.

You turn to face her. She’s so close, the fluorescent lighting of the ambulance harshly illuminating the bruises. “Don’t lie to me, Em.” Begging has always been beneath you, but when it comes to her, all your principles are thrown out the window. Desperation sticks to your words, the vice around your heart making you sound breathless. “Never lie.” You plead.

“Okay,” she breathes, her eyes widening. She tightly squeezes your hand, “Okay, I won’t. It hurts. But I’ve had worse,” she quickly says as your vision begins to blur.

How very Emily of her, to be so quick to reassure, quick to soothe someone’s worries before her own. It makes her all the more maddening, all the more remarkable and endearing and unfortunately, exactly the kind of woman you fell in love with.

“Sweetheart,” you murmur, shaking your head as you carefully cup her cheek. The hitch in her breath is audible, but somehow you know it’s because of your tears and not your touch. “You don’t have to hide your pain from me.” 

“Can you blame me?” Emily whispers, her shoulders rising in a helpless shrug. “If it makes you cry, of course I will.” She says softly. It makes it worse that her voice is sincere. Her eyes, still clouded with pain, are earnest, and you don’t know if you want to laugh or cry.

“How heroic of you.” You croak, sniffling as a few warm tears finally slip down your cheeks. Her mouth parts, her eyes widening, and you know some protest is underway so you close the small distance and kiss her as gently as you dare.

She tastes like blood. Her mussed, sweaty bangs tickle your skin as she leans in close, places her hand on the curve of your waist and squeezes over your shirt. You’re careful, shying away from the cut even as she chases you, wordlessly imploring you to kiss her like you always do, with near reckless abandon. Ignoring her signals, you place a final soft kiss on her mouth before you pull away. 

“Please don’t, Emily.” You whisper. She raises her hand and thumbs your wet cheek, a small frown on her face as her finger slips on your tears. “This isn’t about me, it’s about you.” You cover her hand with your own. Her eyes meet yours, dark and lovely and shining with the selfless love she’s full to the brim with. “I don’t want you to hide anything from me. Not your pain or anything else.”

Another warm tear falls on your joint hands.

Emily wipes it away. Taking in a shuddering breath, she blows it out slowly and leans forward to press her forehead against yours. “I love you, you know.” She says quietly. Her voice is hoarse, her eyes a little more wet than they were before.

A small smile pulls at your lips. “I know, sweetheart. I love you back.” Taking your hand off hers, you tuck her bangs back behind her ears. The bruises are clearer now that they’re out of the way, but you shift your gaze back to her eyes. “Now, will you be a good girl and let the EMT do his job?” Your voice is the slightest bit teasing as you try to lift the mood.

A flimsy smile flits over her face. Emily grabs her lip between her teeth and you mentally grimace as it pulls on her cut. “It hurts.” She admits.

The soft admission both warms you up and makes your heart clench. Gently, you pull her lip from the cage of her teeth. “I know that too. I’m coddling you when we get home, whether you like it or not.”

Emily snorts lightly, her breath skipping across your skin. Her eyes light up despite the pain, and both your smiles are a little more genuine. “If you insist.”

“But you have to get stitched up first.”

“Fuck.”

taglist: @suckerforcate

Reblogs and comments mean the world; I’d love to hear your feedback! Prompts are very very welcome <3