#how to make me give a proper shit about that game in one easy step

[asunsetgrace16]

Evening Kisses⎪ CB98

Pairing: Connor Bedard x fem!reader

Summary: After a long, hard practice, Connor comes home to his girlfriend and a classic makeout on the couch

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, Connor giving reader hickeys, technically underage drinking since it’s set in Chicago

Notes: This is my first fic ever, so please go easy on me. I am really proud of this, since so often I write something and think it is horrible, so this is a big step for me. Based off of one of the headcanons, so this one is "secretly loves to give you hickies but always makes sure they will be covered by clothes"

masterlist⎥ navigation

Word Count: 1.1k

Connor unlocks the door with a sigh. Practice was rough and the weather has turned to shit. He toes off his shoes as the scent of onions and garlic meet his nose. A smile creeps onto his cloudy face when he thinks about the person behind the mouth-watering food. The one who sees Connor in a way nobody else can. The one who knows him. 

He grins –fully this time– when he hears the music playing softly in the background. You can take a girl out of the country, but not the country out of the girl.

“Y/N, baby, I’m home”, he calls out, hanging his coat up and grabbing his phone.

“In the kitchen” she replies just as he walks in, “How was practice?”

“Rough. Harder than normal. Defense was put through the wringer, after that last game, and Richardson made us do sprints. We have got to get our shit together. A few guys were a little green by the end. Is there anything you need help with?”

“Just grab the wine out of the fridge. I had Janelle pick it up for me.Oh, grab the salad too. Greek tonight”

Connor heads around the island to the fridge, first stopping at the stove and wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. She relaxes into him, leaning her head back on his shoulder as his temple meets hers. They stand like that, eyes closed and relishing in the feeling of each other, finally. They sway gently to the beat of the music, a classic country love ballad that is one of Y/N's favourites. Y/N’s fingertips danced along his forearms before linking their fingers. 

“I fucking hate long distance. Maybe I should try and transfer to school here”, Y/N says quietly, feeling tears well in her eyes.​​

Connor chokes up at her words, inhaling a shaky breath before he speaks. This topic is one that was discussed hundreds of times while Y/N was applying to school. They both knew it would be hard, but as they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder. 

Hearing the tears in her voice, Connor swallows the lump in his throat and replies, “I know, baby, I know it sucks. I hate it too. I wish you were here more, and that I had more time to come up to you. But we can do this, let’s not take a moment we have together for granted.”

She turns in his arms, giving him a proper hug, holding each other close. He kisses her head, then kisses her lips tenderly. Y/N rests her head on his chest and feels the low thud of his heart. Connor drops a kiss to her shoulder and moves to get the wine and salad and the pasta is dished up. They discuss the happenings of the day over dinner, the momentary sadness over being apart evaporates. Connor shares animated stories of the Foligno kids and the better parts of practice. Both Connor and Y/N are wearing equally large smiles with love in their eyes. Their combined efforts have the dishes done, leftovers put away, and kitchen cleaned in record time. 

Y/N pours a second glass of wine for the two of them and she settles on the couch, tucked into Connor’s side with his arm around her shoulders. He turns on the TV, Modern Family playing quietly as they sit in comfortable silence. Connor’s hand runs down her arm, landing low on her hip. Her hand sits in his thigh, thumb slowly rubbing back and forth. Y/N breathes deeply, inhaling the fresh scent of the soap from Connor’s after practice shower and his spicy cologne that lingers on his shirt, feeling drowsy and safe and warm. She tips her head up at him, meeting his eyes. He has a gentle smile on his face, bringing his hand to cup her cheek. Connor strokes her cheek with his thumb before tracing the line of her jaw, his eyes taking in her face, committing every detail to memory. The colour of her eyes, freckles on her cheeks, her full bottom lip. 

His thumb catches on her lip, gently tugging it open before letting it go. He dips his head to hers, their lips meeting in a chaste kiss. Connor pulls back, but Y/N slides her hand around the back of his neck and brings their lips together again. This time deeper, more intense. She pushes up into a sitting position, her other hand finding Connor’s shoulder.

He grips her hip, holding her close and steady, other hand still on her cheek. He lets his tongue press against her lips, and she opens willingly. As they sink into the kiss, Connor grabs her behind her knee and pulls her to straddle his lap. The moment is all overlapping breaths and rushed inhales, searching hands and pure love. Both of Connor’s hands are on her hips now, slipping lower to grab her ass through her jeans. Y/N’s hand threads through his hair before tangling in his grown-out curls at the nape of his neck. Heavy breaths and light moans filter through the room when Connor kisses down Y/N’s neck, dragging his tongue over her jaw. His hands slide under her shirt, wandering over her bare back. He pulls her closer by a belt loop.

He peels her shirt off, and she returns the favour. Y/N tips her head back as Connor moves down her neck and along her collarbone, sliding her bra straps down. She lets out a breathy moan and moves to clutch his shoulders, she feels the firm muscles move and ripple under his warm skin. He pauses, nipping and sucking at her skin. The air is warm in the apartment, thick with tension. His hands sit firmly on her hips. Once Connor is satisfied with the mark he left, he moves a little lower, repeating the process again, and again. 

It's a good thing it is winter, once Connor is done and moves to kiss her lips again. Y/N winces a little when his fingers brush the new bruises.

"I'm sorry baby." he whispers against her mouth.

She simply smiles and says back to him, "No, you're not, and neither am I. I love it just as much as you do."

This closeness, the intimacy of the moment is something the two cherish when they are apart. Connor pulls Y/N into his chest, holding her close. He draws shapes lightly along the bare expanse of her back, goosebumps rising in their wake. Her hands find hair, playing with the ends. Their foreheads rest against each other, eyes closed and arms wrapped around each other. Contentment and drowsiness replace hurried desire.

Connor stands, setting Y/N on her feet. Offering her his hand, he says, "Come on love, let's get to bed."

[brineoffire]

Part 2 of The Right Price!

Riled Up

You had none. Zero. Absolutely no idea how you got here. Laswell introduced you again to them man you saved. The Captain. You saved. You babble on about how it was a fluke, how it was absolutely dumb luck but there's no insisting with Price. There's no damn way a rookie could take out four hostiles on his own on luck alone. He knows it and you sure as hell better start focusing on it because you CAN NOT turn down the pay raise.

You'd definitely never planned to be flying with a Captain to join his task force. And you definitely didn't plan to have the shit scared out of you by the huge Lieutenant waiting at the helipad to meet the two of you when you touched down. The guy was huge! He saw a little over eye to eye with Price and damn if you didn't stare at that skull mask a little too long. It wasn't your fault. Tall, dark, and secretive was everyone's thing. That's what you tell yourself when you realize the guy, Ghost, is eyeing you suspiciously.

"Easy there Ghost. New recruit."

"H-howdy, good to meet you sir. Roland Haven, sir." You stumble over your own words as he stands there unamused, your hand out awkwardly before you give up and let it fall to your side. You suck in an embarrassed puff of air through your teeth.

"Don't take it personal, kid." Is all Price gives you as he claps you on the shoulder, pulling you forward with him past Ghost and into the base. You still feel his eyes burning into your spine but you don't let yourself look back again and focus on the direction your pushed in. You get shown to a small barren room, a simple bed, dresser, desk, and chair as Price nods you in.

"This'll be your room from now on lad. Get cozy, proper intros start in thirty." Giving him a nod he heads off as you set your small bag on the bed. You didn't have much with you but you do take a little time to throw your clothes in the dresser and drop your laptop and headphones on the desk. A deep sigh leaves your lips as you look around again and wonder how you got yourself this fucking deep. It doesn't really matter how anymore though, you definitely need the money, and you're not one to turn down a fast track past dealing with other shitty recruits like in your last two teams.

Before long you find yourself heading down the hall following after where Price went to the meeting room. You didn't have anything else to do so heading here ten minutes early was fine by you. Looking around the room you make a note of the layout, wandering around and glancing at maps and a few images of what you can guess is the entirety of the 141. Your skin nearly falls off your bones when you hear a gruff voice call out loud and clear somewhere behind you and you thank your horror game conditioning for keeping you from physically flinching.

"Someone's early ay?" You glance over your shoulder towards the opposite side of the room and notice Ghost once again. He stands by the back wall, arms crossed over his chest, the sockets of the skull baklava on his face look empty with how dark that end of the room is. There's a chill that runs up your spine as you turn to give him a salute, unsure of how to proceed.

"Uh. Yes sir. Wasn't really sure what else ta do." He stares at you as he steps forward, you can see the glint of the lights on his eyes now at least. Makes him look less like death but it means he's that much closer to you. Out of the frying pan you think to yourself. He stares for a long while before nodding and moving to lean on the large rectangular table.

"Right well now you wait with me then." He gestures a hand over to one of the seats opposite him and you hesitate before you get yourself stepping towards it.

"So, uh. Ghost huh? How'd you get that name?" His eyes narrow at you as you sit and you can't help but swallow air.

"Listen 'ere recruit. I ain't in the mood to lead a green'orn around 'ere, an' I sure as shite ain't gun'na let you get anyone on this team killed. You best keep up or you will be lef' behind." Another gulp as his dark eyes bore into yours. You raise your hands in a mock surrender as you nod.

"Understood sir. I ain't looking to ruffle any feathers." He scoffs but doesn't add anything else to his rant so you lower your hands to your lap and sit in a silence so loud you feel like your breath is annoying him. You know better then to piss off a giant you couldn't even hear so you keep any snark behind your lips, rare for you to keep quiet but Ghost didn't know that yet. It's a long ten minutes before you hear footfalls getting closer to the room, time to meet the team.

[fbfh]

oh my gosh- i also love dance academy! i was wondering your thoughts on ethan karamakov as a bf? thank you!

OH FUCKING BOY. First of all, yes. Season 1 Ethan is very different from seasons 2 and 3 Ethan bc he actually had a shit load of character development. In general though, Ethan has had a lot of practice at getting girls to fall for him. like a lot. like a nauseating amount /j but there are two things that really set you apart from his past flings. first of all, you didn't start out as friends with Kat, Ethan met you on his own terms. second, you really didn't fall for a lot of his games like other girls have. similarly to Logan Huntzberger, he's surprised when you treat your relationship as casually as he does. he's intrigued even. but what really gets Ethan to wake the fuck up and realize what a catch you are, how much he likes you and wants to hold onto you, is when he realizes that you're seeing other people too. he sees some guy from third year that he doesn't really know that well chatting you up, touching your arm and making you laugh. and he does not like it. not one bit. so when you show up to workshop the dance he's been choreographing as promised Ethan simply cannot focus on the steps or what a perfect choice you are. he thinks he can keep it together, but he's already letting his feelings slip out when you're warming up.

"So, you and Darren, huh?"

he thinks it sounds casual enough, but you see right through him (which is one of the reasons you're so perfect for him) so of course you just laugh.

"Ethan Karamakov," you chuckle, looking up at him, "are you jealous?"

he gets all blustery and denies it, but by the time you're done going over the choreo he's insisting you both stop seeing other people, and planning a proper date to take you out on this weekend, and the rest is history. and let me tell you, even though this is his first proper relationship, Ethan falls hard and fast for you. he gets so invested in you, in being the best boyfriend he possibly can. He really, really wants to do a good job, and it shows. what Ethan starts to realize what he loves so much about you is that you really don't scare easy. you're such a stable, consistent presence in his life, and it's something that means more to him than he can even describe. he gets so scared that Natasha or his dad will scare you off, but not even his... interesting family can do that. and full disclosure, Kat will probably not like you much at first, only because she doesn't want to fall into the pattern of getting attached to one of Ethan's girlfriends then having them leave when he acts like an asshole. but once she sees that Ethan is actually trying, that he's trying to be a better boyfriend, better brother, better person, when Kat sees that it looks like you're actually around to stay and not going flake at the first sign of trouble???? Congradulations, you now have both of the Karamakov siblings attached to you at the hip. Kat will periodically requisition you for much needed spur of the moment girl's days/shopping sprees (usually when her mom flakes), so now it's Ethan's turn to find out what it feels like to be stood up for a date. you barely have time to explain when Kat takes your phone out of your hand.

"uh yeah, Ethan? there's a sale so I'm stealing your girlfriend - who is waaaay out of your league, by the way-"

"Okay, thanks for that, Kat."

"anyway, you'll get her back later! bye-"

And under other circumstances sure, it would suck to be canceled on last minute, but it actually makes Ethan really happy when those days do happen. knowing that Kat is getting to spend time with someone who's both a positive influence AND is somewhat stable gives him a lot of peace of mind. besides, if Kat approves of you, he knows there must be something... real between you. and something real like that doesn't come around too often. he knows from experience.

[novantinuum]

(I thought tumblr had finally changed it so you can ask shit from a side blog. Arrrrrgh did I imagine it? Well this is fanfoolishness yet again regretting this being my goddamn main 😅)

Morganite - 45, 54

Tourmaline - 28, 35, 42

Jean - 22, 31

Thank youuu! Yeah ahah tumblr defo let you send in asks from side blogs before because I'm pretty sure I saw you celebrating this in a post once.

WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS

_

I'm once again gonna provide a visual for all these OCs ahah. I think I'm gonna have to do that from now on out, it's fun and probably helpful to people reading 'em.

Morganite- (I am forever obsessed with this shit-eating grin sketch I did of her)

45- What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately?

I answered this one for Morganite on another ask, but I'm gonna give another, because she just has so much hate and disdain stored up in that gemstone, ahah-

I have a silly OC headcanon that half-Gem Jean Maverick ends up introducing the game of billiards to Gemkind at Little Homeschool. Well, a modified version of the game that's about scoring points for the most mathematically "sick AF" shots eventually ends up spreading like wildfire across the galaxy proper, and plenty of Morganite's lackeys are sucked into it, playing it constantly. Thus, she really, really fucking hates billiards. It's constantly distracting her troops from their duties. Yet another way that damned hybrid keeps thwarting her plans.

54- What’s their instinct in a fight / flight / freeze / fawn situation?

Oh, absolutely fight.

With the circumstances she's lived through (a viscous war, a life partner defecting to join rebels, one's diamond being shattered and having to be re-assigned and rebuild one's reputation under a new leader-) she's easily paranoid, and always wide alert. You really do NOT want to sneak up on her, or spring anything unexpected.

_

Tourmaline- (rebel Tourmaline is soooo my scrunklie)

28- What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?

Courtier era Tourmaline tells people that she wants to be seen as the most intelligent, knowledgeable Gem in the room. Tourmalines are like... the bookkeepers, the ones who actually WRITE the history- at their Diamonds' behest, of course- and so it is their duty to be in the Know about everything happening around them at all times.

In reality though, all Tourmaline really wants is to make people laugh. To enjoy lasting conversation. To make an impression. For so, so many years, other Gems only saw her as like... a tool, a means to access knowledge, just a living repository for facts, but she wants people to gravitate to her because of who she IS, not what she can give.

35- What is the smallest morally questionable choice they’ve made?

The SMALLEST morally questionable choice? Well... hmm. I mean, she was a strategist in a war, so there were plenty of BIG morally questionable choices... but small?

Hmm.

The reason why these memes are so fun is that sometimes they inspire me to pull shit right out of my ass on the spot. Anyways, one day Tourmaline was sharpening her sword in Bismuth's forge at her permission and accidentally like, broke one of her tools.

She never fessed up to it, and eventually one of Bismuth's weapon smith apprentices gets blamed for it instead.

42- If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

Hmm...

"Rejuvenated, But By Choice This Time: How To De-program Yourself From Gem Society In Ten Easy Steps"

It's a comedy TED Talk about her own experience in defecting from Homeworld and joining the Crystal Gems that also ends up tackling some Real and Raw topics lol. Probably a talk you'd see given as part of some evening programing at Little Homeschool.

_

Jean Maverick- (I still eternally love this lovely art my friend @cynthi-arts did for me of them)

22- What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?

Eating food freely without having to scrounge over the nutrition labels to look at ingredients. Like damn, how do these people live?

The reason why is that Jean has a gluten intolerance- it's not... entirely so bad that it's a full-out allergy, but life is simply easier if they go to the effort of avoiding it as much as they can. This is a big reason why they always envied Gems growing up, in how they don't need to eat or drink or sleep to remain operational- just access to light.

Jean really wishes they weren't saddled down with this half-human bit a lot, suffice it to say. Surely everything would be sooo much easier if they were just a Gem. (So they believe.)

31- When do they feel the most guilt? How do they respond to it?

In the wake of drastic events that come far later, Jean ends up saddled with guilt in how they handled their first encounter with Morganite. They feel that Little Homeworld and Beach City wouldn't have come under such fire if they had acted more decisively that day- poofed her, perhaps, instead of simply cornering her to be ultimately led off in the custody of Homeworld reform officers.

Their way of dealing with all this stress and the needless what-ifs is by completely wearing themself to the bone around the clock in the manhunt for Morganite after her vicious attack on Little Homeworld/Beach City. Jean simply cannot rest until this loose end is tied up completely, and they will absolutely face negative bodily repercussions due to this.

[doomednarrative]

6 is a fun game i am here to be so niceys about it in your inbox i like some of the world building i like the return of old characters and the new ones we’re introduced to i like some of the game mechanics i like the action and qtes i like the graphics it is fun. feel free to add on

!!! I will add on!! But I agree with everything you said here too to be clear cause Yes!!!

Honestly I love 6 for both the character writing and combat the most, that’s my favorite things about it.

I like that it went big and ambitious by having everyone’s stories interconnect and getting to see all those narratives play out is so fun, and even if I critique specific things about them I think overall they’re enjoyable and I think big stories that bring everyone together are always exciting. And when it comes to character writing like, re6 Leon is my favorite of the whole series tbqh. He feels like he’s in this sweet spot where a lot of things about him are more subdued, but when the narrative calls for it his core really comes through, that being that even in the midst of turmoil and hardship, even when he’s become jaded and hardened from experience, at the center he’s just a guy who cannot stop himself from Helping Other People because he gives a genuine shit about doing so. Even when he makes it clear he’s suspicious of Helena, he still agrees to help her, he still fuckin physically shields her from danger when the bus goes over the cliff, and he keeps proving over and over that no matter how much shit he shoves aside and how much more reserved he’s become, he’s still just a good guy underneath it all, and it Gets To Me.

And speaking of Helena, god I love her. She does feel very similar to Claire at times but I think that’s Why she works so well with Leon. Whereas he tends to be more emotionally reserved, she’s got a temperament that balances him out and genuinely I do enjoy their friendship, I can imagine them teaming up more in the future and it working out well (if Capcom would let it happen that is.)

You mentioned graphics and that was something I kept talking about when I was streaming to friends too honestly. This is a game from 2012 and it Shows, and tbh I Love that about it. It’s in that nice middle ground of semi realistic but still cartoonish enough that it Feels like a game if that makes sense, and that endears me to it even more.

And!! The combat!! is so fun!! I’m on my third run of Leon’s route and my second run of Chris’s and I just have Fun playing the game again because I like the combat variation! I love the partner ai for this game, I think it runs well and it’s actually pretty helpful for me at least since I can be kinda shit sometimes even when I play on easy. I love that physical combat gets a step up this game and it’s a viable way to actually defeat enemies, it just feels more natural to have that option and I like being able to do it.

Smaller thing that I care about as a Music Guy but oh my god this game has an actual proper score thru out it unlike past games with a lot more ambient tracks outside of combat and that Absolutely helped to endear me to it overall cause I go insane for good music, I’ve had this soundtrack on repeat a lot admittedly.

I will probably have more to say once I’ve actually finished everyones routes for the game but like, overall so far from what I’ve played I’ve had such a good time with it and I do genuinely enjoy it even when I find things to critique about it. It’s by far not the worst game out there and I think people are just Overly mean about it sometimes to a weird degree.

[neon-lights-stardust-nights]

"Does someone need a hug?"

A/N: I ended up using this to further flesh out the creepypasta s/i's approximate childhood in Slender's care, with a dash of Tommy (because I felt like it.) Dmitri in "current day" as I write faer for short shit that sloshes out of my brain is 21, but for this Dmitri is only 8. Nothing to actively warn about in this itself, but if you're a regular here: you know shipcest is kinda a common vibe (and is meant to be very lightly implied here.)

Anyway if you're chill with all that, under the readmore you go!

[ask game]

The mansion was big, was empty. So of course fae thought it was an easy place to get lost in. Fae probably knew the halls better than faers best friend, because unlike Slender, Dmitri didn’t have the benefit of teleporting around all the time. Getting away from someone in here should’ve been a breeze.

Dmitri closed the door behind faerself, slow and quiet. There were many unused bedrooms in the mansion, for children Slender didn’t keep (or children who’ve grown and since moved on.) This one seemed especially old. Cobwebs practically filled the place, making the idea of walking deeper enough of a sensory nightmare that Dmitri lingered by the door to inspect the rest of the room. The bed was comfortable enough looking, an old blanket that looked like it was very nice years before Dmitri’s time thrown over it. Perhaps that wording was unkind—it was very neatly made, for a room that probably hadn’t been touched in hundreds of years (according to the assumptions of our 8 year old protagonist.)

Before Dmitri could go wondering about if the fireplace still worked, fae heard something. Holding faers breath, fae pressed an ear to the door. Footsteps… Faers babysitter? Sure enough, a voice called out: “Mitya!”

Fae rubbed at faers eyes, doing a poor man’s job of wiping tears on faers sleeve. Dmitri dared not breathe, for fear a noise above fabric rustle would attract him. The footsteps passed, and fae slowly stepped away from the door. Old, abandoned homes of spiders broke off over faer—but Dmitri pressed on. In other rooms, fae might know the place of every creaky floorboard. Fae had been living here for a few years and prided faerself on being sneakier than ninjas or assassins while inside. Within this unfamiliar room, however…

A loud creak broke otherwise perfect silence. Fae could feel it in the tips of faers ears, as though they’d tried to move like a dogs’ to capture the sound. Determined to have faers fit alone, fae made a breakneck dash to the door again. Despite the attempt, the doorknob slipped from faers hand. Just as Dmitri got there, faers red face and runny nose were exposed to the hallway lights. A little arm came to shield faers face from it all, otherwise frozen in a sea of bad options.

Of course it was faers babysitter. Sometimes fae thought he teleported more than Slender. Other times, it was great. He could order take-out, and be back before fae could even wonder how long he’d been gone. Now though?

“Now, why have you been hiding from me?”

“Leave me alone,” fae screamed back. Deciding upon the futile (yet emotionally satisfying) course of action, Dmitri dove deeper into the room. The doll simply watched faer hurl faerself through dust and cobwebs, all just to land on a bed that smelled its age.

It had been a while since Tommy had a proper tantrum to deal with.

“Now, now, Mitya…” He was still using the nickname. Fae knew he wasn’t serious yet. Tommy came over to the bed, giving off the perfect energy of a stern (yet concerned) parent. “I’m only trying to help. I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!”

He sounded so cheerful. It crawled under faers skin, like a long, worming insect. Perhaps Dmitri would be less bothered if it weren’t for—“it’s none of your business!”

There were two distinct options in Tommy’s head. Dmitri would like neither. The time he spent mulling them over felt like an eternity to faer, but it was barely even a minute. “Does someone need a hug?”

Dmitri flinched. A hug wouldn’t fix what happened. Slender did it with a teacup once—or at least, faers child brain just assumed he was the one who did it. Fae broke a teacup on accident when fae first came here. As much as fae expected a punishment, Slender merely scooped up all the remains. A note was pressed to the fridge door later, saying only the phrase: accidents happen. A week later, Dmitri found the teacup back in the cupboard all the rest of the tea set was in. It was different though. Dmitri could see the individual cracks, as they were all filled in with something silver and shiny. Though it became faers favorite teacup, the incident remained. The teacup fae dropped would never be a normal teacup again, it held scars from being shattered.

Yet… Dmitri practically flung faerself into Tommy’s arms. It would’ve probably jostled lesser men, but he was unmoved by even an inch from where he stood by the bed. “Good,” he said. “I was beginning to consider disciplining you as a necessary option.”

Dmitri’s blood ran cold. Tommy just laughed overhead, easily scooping faer up. “Now, Mitya, why don’t we get a snack? You can tell me exactly what’s wrong while we eat.”

[carcharadroid]

Anyway HoTs Anduin with Valerian color palette skin when?

[erodasfishtacos]

Is this seat empty? " Yes and this one will be too if you sit down" , "Don't be like that my love."

For MLB!Harry first stupid fight in a relationship 😂

Okay this turned into something entirely different then the prompt. Sorry anon 😂

—

Peace & Quiet (Please)

If you enjoy please like, reblog, comment, or come talk to me!

I write for free so if you enjoy my work please consider donating to my kofi page.

-

“Where d’you put m’protein mix?” Harry asks, padding into the kitchen and opening every single fucking cabinet.

“It’s in the same place it’s been for the past five years,” YN bites out with a slight irritation, mixing the pancake batter a little rougher.

She’s been up since three in the morning and Harry sauntered in around six-thirty after coming home late from a baseball game last night.

All the babies still asleep.

“Ah - fuck,” Her husband huffs when he spills the powder all over the countertop and floor she had just swiffered ten minutes ago.

When he goes to open the other cabinet and grab for a shaker bottle - they all come tumbling out onto the floor in a loud clash.

“Could you be any louder? You going to wake up the kids!” YN scolds harshly, pointing to the closet, “Go get the swiffer.”

He obliges - surprised by her attitude, grabbing it and slapping it (by accident) on the ground like a fucking baseball bat, the head of the mop snapping off and breaking.

“S’broken,” Harry states the obvious, shrugging and going about peeling a banana before leaving the peel near the sink.

YN turns to face him, voice irritated, “I’m about to break you, just like you broke the swiffer.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He asks cheekily but her glare tells him there is no amusement to be had this morning.

“I just spent all morning cleaning and you’ve made this place a disaster already!” His wife bites before flipping one of the pancakes.

Harry dejectedly cleans up his protein mix mess, neatly places the shake bottles into the right place, throws away the peel, and closes all the cabinets.

“M’sorry,” He murmurs, coming up behind her and kisses the nape of her neck, “Y’seem a bit cranky this mornin’.”

And man. He should have not said that.

“Do you have a baby who needs to fucking feed from your body every hour even during the night? I don’t think so,” She mutters, shaking him off of her.

“Hey, mama. M’bein’ an ass, what can I do to help?” He changes gears, choosing to stand next to her since she didn’t seem to want to be touch.

“Breastfeed - let your nipples feel like their constantly on fire and about to fall off. Make all this post-partum bleeding stop. Let me sleep for a day straight. I don’t know,” YN begins to sniffles, plating a few mini pancakes.

He’s taken aback, eyebrows furrowing in concern, and he leans forward to flip off the stovetop, “Can I touch you?”

She nods, wiping her eyes, and allows him to haul her up into their marble countertop, “Mama, y’need to tell me when y’feeling overwhelmed? Please baby. I’ve asked you a million times to wake me up and I can bottle feed her.”

“No, she…I have to feed her. It helps bonding and it-“

Harry interrupts firmly, “She will be perfectly fine being fed by a bottle a few times a day. You’re putting too much stress on yourself.”

Her head falls on his shoulder and she mumbles, “I just feel so…gross, not attractive at all.”

He pulls her back, searching her face in confusion, “Baby, why would you ever say somethin’ like that?”

YN let’s out a quiet sob, “My nipples are chafed and sore, I’m constantly bleeding, my belly hasn’t deflated -“

Harry can’t help but lean in and connect their lips harshly, he’s pulling her loose shirt up and over her head.

“Harry, what-“

“Listen t’me,” Harry rasps seriously, his hands are tender and careful as they cup her swollen breasts - thumbing at her painful nubs.

“I’m literally obsessed w’your tits, baby. They’ll go back to normal after y’done feeding and even if they don’t - I love them just as fucking much. You fed our three healthy strong boys and now you’re makin’ sure our chunky little girl is eating good.”

Then he hands move to cup her belly, large hands splayed over the still softening, firm bump from where Briar had been housed for nine months.

“Y’gave me four, four fuckin’ babies from this belly. I’m fucking in love with your body. God, y’thighs, y’tummy, the stretchmarks - fuck, getting me hard just lookin’ at you.”

It was true, he was stiffening up in his shorts but neither of them acknowledged it - it was a love boner more than anything else.

He literally got hard from how much he loved her.

“I’m tired,” She sighs softly, letting Harry tug her shirt back on as the children would be waking up soon to eat breakfast.

“I know, mama,” Harry acknowledges softly, giving her another kiss before taking over the pancake station.

-

When all the boys are downstairs and chomping away on their food, Cash, who is just about four decides it’ll be funny to squirt the sticky syrup all over their expensive stool cushions and the floor.

When YN turns from the sink to see the mess, she admits she snaps a little bit, “Really Harry? You’re supposed to be watching them, not checking the sports news on your phone!”

Harry is about to defend himself but his wife is stomping over to where Cash has emptied the bottle and gives him a firm look, “Cash Edward Styles, get your bum upstairs, right now.”

Cash’s eyes widen, his mother rarely needed to use a harsh tone with them, “Mama, I’m so-“

“If you are not upstairs, by the bathtub this instant, you get no outside time today. Do you understand me?” YN tells him, giving Easton a warning look when he licks at the syrup on his finger.

“Yes mama,” Cash squeaks out sadly, abandoning his plate and walking up towards the bathroom upstairs to get clean.

Easton and Ezra are dead silent as they watch their brother leave - not wanting the same fate as him so they sit proper.

“Sweetheart-“ Harry begins, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“No, I have my hands full taking care of four kids. I don’t need you acting like a fifth. Go bathe your son,” YN tells him coldly, an angry stare directed his way.

Harry clenches his jaw, biting his tongue as he stands up and pushes his chair in with force - making a loud noise before following after his second son.

A few minutes after they’re out of sight, Easton thought it’d be funny to wipe syrup down Ezra’s cheek which made Ezra cry and throw a pancake at his older brother - now soaking him in syrup.

YN starts to leak milk at the sound of Ezra’s cries.

“Easton Robin - get you butt upstairs this instant too. You know better - no outside time today,” She informs him as she uses a wet wipe to clean Ezra’s cheek.

“Mama,” Easton whines, fat tears starting roll down his cheeks as he stands up, loitering by the kitchen stool.

“Do not make me repeat myself,” YN warns, swiping a paper towel over the wet spot on her shirt from the leak.

-

Harry had just started washing up Cash who was still melancholy when his blubbering older one comes in - still tearful.

He sighs, looking at his syrupy son, “Wha’ happened?”

Easton looks hesitant, “I put syrup on Ezzie and mama said no outside time today.”

His father is tight-lipped, he can already predict that Easton’s actions upset Ezra, “Alright, c’mon. Let’s clean y’up too. Y’know better, Easton.”

-

Harry had just finished helping both boys dress when YN appears in the doorway with Ezra who has a binkie popped in his mouth.

She steps over and hands their son to Harry before muttering, “I’m going to feed Briar, keep the boys out of the room. I need some peace.”

YN disappears from the room before he can even reply to her.

-

Harry can admit he gets distracted when one of his coaches calls him up for a game change, doesn’t notice when Cash sneaks from the playroom.

It’s less than five minutes later when YN leads Cash gently by the hand back into the playroom, with Briar still latched and feeding.

When she sees Harry on his phone, she’s fucking livid with him.

“Really Harry?” His wife scoffs, guiding Cash to join Easton in where he’s playing with legos.

“I’ll call you back,” Harry replies to his coach before hanging up, “Sorry, it was Donny-“

“Good to know your job is more important than watching your kids,” She spits out before storming back out of the room.

Harry is up and following behind her, jaw clenched and irritated, “Just ‘cause you’re in a pissy mood doesn’t mean that y’say shit like that.”

She turns on her heel, eyes fiery, “You have no god damn consideration. You’ve been swamped this week because of your nike promotion and games. I’ve had the babies all by myself for four nights while you get to gallivant around!”

Harry goes to speak but she puts her free hand up.

“I ask for you to keep our house clean and to let me have one moment of peace with our daughter but you don’t even let me have that! You do not understand how hard it is to push a baby out of you and then have them rely on you to feed them twenty times a day!”

His anger fades when his wife starts sobbing - chest shuddering sobs, “I just had her four weeks ago. I-I haven’t had a break yet. You act like it’s so easy!”

He starts to walk towards her, “Sweetheart-“

YN shakes her head, a desperate plea in her tone, “Please just give me time with Briar.”

Harry swallows harshly and nods - feeling like shit as his wife walks back towards the stairs - all the while still feeding their daughter.

-

“Hello?”

“Mum, I-can you take the boys for the night?” Harry asks quietly, standing in the kitchen while the two older boys are still playing quietly.

Ezra’s passed out, on Harry’s hip with his little face smushed against the cap of his shoulder with parted lips.

“Dear, is everything okay?” She replies cautiously.

“No, I-I don’t know. YN is overwhelmed and I don’t think I’ve been supportive enough,” Harry feels himself begin to sniffle.

Anne doesn’t pry for information which Harry loves about her, she agrees to take them, and states she’ll be over within the hour.

Harry goes about packing their pajamas and other necessities in their little backpacks as the squeal excitedly about going to Nana’s.

“Can we say bye to mama?” Easton asks anxiously as they clear out of their bedrooms.

“Let me go ask,” He murmurs, running a hand through his son’s curls.

When he cracks open the door, YN is sprawled out on her back, fast asleep with Briar also asleep in the bassinet next to the bed.

His heart aches because her shirt is off, and the remnants of her nipple cream which was a pinkish orange color wasn’t fully rubbed in on her bruised breasts.

Harry guides them downstairs, promising that their mama will call them later.

-

After the boys leave, Harry doesn’t know what to do so he cleans whatever he finds that is dirty or messy so she won’t have to.

He does all the laundry in the house, cleans up every single toy, and when Briar starts to whimper - he sneaks in to snatch her up so she doesn’t wake YN.

Then he takes her out to the shops with him to grab groceries, her favorite snacks, and maybe he does stop by a jewelry store and buy her something nice.

(casually a pair of 20k earrings)

YN fell asleep around eighty-thirty in the morning and doesn’t wake up until about nine at night, Harry had put Briar in her nursery about an hour ago.

When she does awake, Harry is sitting in the living room - watching a stupid action movie to pass time and dwell on everything.

She comes in quietly, stands in front of her husband who looks up at her with anxious eyes - she looks brighter now that she’s had adequate sleep.

“Will you hold me?” She rasps quietly, just in one of Harry’s shirts and soft pair of sleep shorts.

“Never haven t’ask, mama,” He murmurs, guiding her until she’s straddling his lap and burying her face into the crook of his neck.

His hands sneak beneath her shirt to massage the sleep-warm skin as he kisses her shoulder - over and over again.

“I’m so sorry,” YN whispers into his skin, voice croaky as she tries to not get upset.

He pulls her back to study her face, “Do not apologize, y’allowed to get mad at me and feel frustrated. You’re emotions are valid. There’s a lot going on and I could be doing more to help.”

YN wipes a tear that trickles down as she laughs in disbelief, “No, you can’t do anymore to help.”

“Wha-? I can, I promis-“

She interrupts his with a kiss before telling him sincerely, “You can’t do anymore help because you’re already doing the most amazing job. As a husband and dad. I was just tired and stressed - it’s not an excuse.”

It warms his heart, he fucking loves her so much it does make sense, has to button their lips together one more time.

“You have a really hard job too, on top of being a husband and dad. You give us all this, support us and take care of us.”

“Are y’kidding me? Y’the one who keeps this family together. Y’the fuckin’ love of my life, you know that? I love you so much, so so much,” He emphasizes, rubbing a thumb across her bottom lip.

The kiss one more time - the anger was subsided and they were okay once again.

Harry laughs and agree when YN murmurs, “S’time for bed again, m’tired.”

“Okay mama, anythin’ for you,” He responds before peppering her in kisses to make her giggle lightly.

[donaweasley]

What If

Pairing: Loki x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Plot:

A silly game of “What-Ifs” between two friends eventually leads to the realisation that the future, if spent together, may not be as bleak as they had anticipated it to be. A dialogue-based best friends-to-lovers cliché.

Warnings: Relationship angst, too many dialogues, long read, happy ending!!!

Read time: ~28 mins

Author's Note:

It's a long read with far more dialogues than can be deemed healthy. The reason is, I didn't want their arc to feel rushed. It had to be cooked slow. Another reason is that, I can't help hearing my characters, and it triggers a flood of dialogues! I'm trying to work on controlling it. 😬 Hope you enjoy!

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

“C’mon! You’re breaking the rules now,” Loki casually waved his hand at his best friend.

“I’m not. There’s nothing to answer really,” (Y/N) replied with a shrug.

“There must be something on your mind!”

She pretended to think for a second, and shook her head.

---------------------

It was a usual night in the compound. It was just another night when one of these two friends had called the other in the middle of the night for some midnight snack. It was just another of those happy times when they had tiptoed into the kitchen like thieves because...no, no one would mind some missing nachos or ice creams, but because it was fun!

It wasn’t easy for Loki to open up to someone, let alone to allow the other person in. Neither was it easy for (Y/N) to trust somebody, given her past, especially when that somebody was infamous for betraying almost everyone, at every step, not to mention his attempts at ruling Earth and causing massacre.

But time is a healer and a magician.

And here they were now, looking at the moon-washed night life through the west-facing glass wall, and playing a game of “what-ifs”. One would say that it was silly and immature; some would even call their talks gibberish. But when the night was so relaxed and carefree, why wouldn’t they be?

The pale yellow orb hovering above the western horizon cast a soft ray of light through the glass wall. Oblivious to its movements across the room, Loki and (Y/N) were wrapped in a thin blanket on a couch, their feet resting on two separate pouffes.

It had all started with a silly question, something like, “What if you weren’t stuck in this building tonight?”, or something along those lines; they didn’t even remember correctly anymore.

One question led to the other, and soon they found themselves tangled in a game of questions that would have been enough to create an alternate reality. But eventually, they found themselves, not answering with imaginary scenarios, but debating over one particular question:

“What if you find the love of your life tomorrow?”

This question was posed by Loki, rather theatrically, amidst the many others that had tossed different possibilities of their near future. And it was here that (Y/N) refused to play along anymore because, as she stated, it was “the most silly question ever”.

---------------------

“So, you claim that my question is even worse than your ‘What if you were a Jotun cat’? What kind of a question is that anyway?” Loki teased.

“Of course, it is. Undoubtedly!” With one wave of her hand, (Y/N) dismissed his appeal.

“And how is that even logical, may I know?”

“C’mon, this entire game is out of the boundaries of logic,” she claimed. “Your behaviour is like that of a cat. Don’t make that face; it brings you closer to being a cat. And...a Jotun cat sounds cool!”

Loki sighed. “And my question is ridiculous! If the game is beyond all reason, then...” he shrugged, “say something...weird, and move on!”

“Fine! If I-if... If I meet the love of my life tomorrow,...I’ll stab him. Or her. Or them. I don’t even know.” She huffed.

“Ouch!” Loki made a face, ”Didn’t see that coming. I would enjoy the stabbing part though. Thank the Norns, you never declared your feelings for me!”

She looked at him sideways with a stern face. Loki noticed the irritation simmering just beneath her skin, ready to burst out at the next prodding.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on her arm, “what happened? Was it something I said?”

She turned her face away. But Loki wasn’t giving up that easily.

“(Y/N),” he gently tugged at her arm, “look at me.”

When she finally turned towards him, he held her by the shoulders just to make sure that she couldn’t move away again.

“Now, you’ll tell me everything. What happened?” He inquired again. “I thought you were having fun.”

“It’s nothing Loki, it’s just that...you know I don’t like discussing my non-existent love-life. It’s...it kind of makes me...sad sometimes. Especially in a setting like this!” She waved her hands at her surroundings. “I mean, look at it, a full moon, a silent night, blankets and… It just leaves me with this reminder that I’ll be alone all my bloody life!”

Loki’s hands slowly retracted from her form and folded themselves on his chest. And just like that, they both found themselves staring out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice audibly reflected the guilt that had formed within, “I never intended to...”

“No, you shouldn’t be. It’s...I overreacted. I’m sorry, Loki. I just ruined the mood. Shit! And it’s not my hormones, mind you!”

“I know,” Loki chuckled. “And you did not ruin anything. It’s natural to feel, isn’t it?”

She looked at him with a raised brow, “Somebody’s learning!”

“Somebody’s got a good teacher,” he smiled.

“Aww!! I love it when you acknowledge my awesomeness!” She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in closer, and pinched his cheek.

“Ugh! Let go of me! Let...go!!”

The room was filled with (Y/N)’s cackles and Loki’s threats as he wriggled out of her grip.

“Do that one more time, and I’ll stab you!”

But it wasn’t enough to stop her chortles.

“Would you now?” she teased, and raised her hands again in a faux attempt at squeezing his cheeks.

He swatted them away.

“Stop it!” He warned again, only to emanate snorts from her.

But the next second, his voice changed into a compassionate one, “Why do you think you’ll be alone all your life? How old are you anyway? 80? 90? Isn’t that supposed to be old in human years?”

Once again her cheerful mood fled behind a thick curtain of annoyance. But this time she did not look away. She simply rolled her eyes, and pulled her legs from the pouffe to sit cross-legged, and shifted to face him.

“No, I’m not that old. But why are you suddenly so interested in this topic?”

“Because suddenly, you seem to have found an interest in getting annoyed.”

“Then don’t annoy me.”

“Not in my nature, I’m afraid.”

She couldn’t decide whether to hit him or laugh at him.

“Loki-” She curled her fists and shut her eyes.

“I’m listening, darling,” he smirked.

Of course, she knew how stubborn Loki could be!

Who else would know that better than me?

“Okay,” she placed her palms flat on her thighs, “the thing is...I can never make a relationship last more than two years. I waste my time trying to establish a...a proper, long-lasting relationship - something permanent - and end up with a heartbreak. Every. Fucking. Time. I’ve given up. I’ve had enough! Now, even if anyone makes a move, or if I’m interested in someone, I just remind myself that it’s not gonna work! I just don’t put any effort anymore.”

Loki hummed in response; his eyes were focused on her as if he was trying to decipher a mystery.

“And,” she continued, “given my current ‘job’,” she air-quoted the word, “I’m more sure than ever that no one will last more than two months now!”

Once she voiced the storm in her head, her eyes softened and she looked down at her lap. Through hooded eyes, she stole a guilty, fleeting glance at her friend, who seemed to be musing about something really serious. His eyes were strained on the carpet, while his chin rested on a fisted hand balancing itself on his thigh.

For a long moment neither said anything. Only the distant buzz of the sleepless city floated through the air and filled the room.

It was Loki who disrupted the silence with a long and heavy sigh.

“I knew that Midgardian men were impatient, narcissistic-”

“Look who’s talking,” she smirked as she interrupted him.

He gave her a quick deadpanned stare before resuming, “-imbeciles, but I was beginning to think that they have good tastes in women. It’s disappointing, not surprising though, that they have proven me wrong.”

A small laugh almost made its way to its escape, but she pushed it back. “You think so?” She quipped.

He shrugged, “From what you’ve said, there is no reason to think otherwise.”

She sat a little straighter. “Really? Do go on!”

Loki immediately noticed the effect that he had planned for. Without giving away the joy of his small triumph, he continued, “Indeed! Look at you! You’re an amazing woman! You’re brave, witty, independent...smart...excellent with knives! And that’s my favourite thing about you, by the way. ”

Feigning offence, she exclaimed, “And I thought your favourite thing about me was that I tolerate all your tantrums, and keep up with your shenanigans.”

“I don’t throw tantrums, darling,” he pushed the accusation away with his silky tone, “and don’t tell me that you take no pleasure in the havoc that we wreck together.”

At this, she could no longer suppress the evil grin that spread across her face, “I do love a bit of chaos. It’s fun.”

“To think of it,” Loki added excitedly, “had you been on Asgard, you might have been the Goddess of Chaos!”

“Oh! Thank you!” She replied with a dramatic wave of her hands.

Both laughed at the way their words were unfolding.

“Thank you, Loki,” (Y/N) said after their little whirlwind of laughter had calmed down, “I guess I needed to hear something nice about myself. It’s been a long, long time since I heard it.”

“I meant every word of it,” he replied in a solemn tone that made something flutter in her chest.

Was it gratitude? Was it joy? Was it love for her best friend?

It was hard to tell. It seemed to be everything at once.

She simply smiled at him. “Even the ‘Goddess of Chaos’ part?”

“Especially that part,” he asserted, and she laughed.

“You’re the best, Loki!” She gave him a half hug.

“That, I definitely am. But you’re not too shabby yourself. And you should never ever be sad for someone else’s failure.”

“Alright, I get what you’re trying to do here,” she landed a playful punch to his shoulder. “I’m fine! Really! I just got a little carried away.”

“No, I really mean it,” he tried to assure her. “You are one of the most magnificent women I have known! And mind you, I’m rather picky in these cases.”

She laughed, “Of course, I’d know that! ... Loki, it’s...it’s alright. Some people just don’t have it in them to sustain relationships no matter how wonderful they are. I’m okay with it.”

“Come on! A narcissistic God is showering you with genuine compliments! And you’re still not convinced that it’s not your fault but of all those who failed to keep up with you?”

She tried another attempt at convincing him, “It works both ways.”

“Norns! I can’t believe you’re so foolish!”

“Enlighten me, please,” she drawled.

“I believe I have already established the fact that you are phenomenal.”

When she giggled and nodded, he carried on.

“Good. Now, your job, as you put it, shouldn’t be a hindrance in your relationship. You’re doing the marvellous job of being a guardian to thousands of people. People you don’t even know! How many would put their necks out there to do it?”

“C’mon, Loki, when duty calls, you have to leave everything behind and just go! Who’d tolerate that for days? They will snap one day.”

“I’d never do that!” Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “What I mean is, had I been in their place, I’d have never done that.”

“That’s because you’re on the team,” she argued. “So, it’s normal to you.”

“No, it’s not because I’m on the team. I’d-” He sighed. “Fine, why don’t you try finding someone from this field? Stark’s parties are a great place to hunt humans.”

“‘Hunt humans’?” She snorted, “I like the sound of that. Nay, haven’t found anyone. Besides, mixing professional and personal life can be fatal. You never know when your personal life might get jeopardised because of a mission gone wrong. Y’know, the usual blame-game and all. I hate all that!”

Loki brooded over her words for a few seconds before asking, “I don’t get it. Why would it be fatal? I mean, look at us,” he gestured in between them. “We have a perfect understanding. We’d never blame the other for any petty thing. Or-or let it affect our friendship.”

“That’s because we have the perfect understanding, Loki! You said it yourself. It’s a rare thing that we have. And I can’t expect it to be with anyone else. They’re not you, Loki.”

“They’re not us,” he corrected her.

Joy seeped through his senses as he watched her face brighten up at his words.

With a nod, she continued, “You see, all that spark, excitement, promises - these sound really great at the beginning. As time passes, as the real world pushes in, love moves to the backseat. Love is not enough. There comes a time when you have to balance everything together, and love becomes one of those things. It becomes a chore.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you,” Loki stated with a frown. “That sounds so sad!”

“It is!”

“Well, it shouldn’t be! Loving you shouldn’t be a chore! Let’s say...hypothetically...if I’m in love with you, then you’d be my passion. And passions never become a duty, not even in the worst of times. Instead, they help us breathe when everything comes caving in. You’d be my...my moment of peace in a war. How could I not be tempted to embrace this beautiful moment?”

“Unfortunately, Loki, that’s not how it works. See, when you have a lot on your plate, say your job, your dreams, your daily life and all the pressure that comes with these, you’ll find less and less time for your loved one. Things get hectic and eventually frustrating. You won’t be able to keep that flame alive even if you want to. And one day, you’ll come to realize that you have distanced yourself from your moment, even if you never wanted to. But it’d be too late. There’d be no going back.”

“I’d never distance myself from you! I mean, from my moment. I’ve been a king, and I know how taxing royal duties can be. Sometimes, it seemed like a luxury to get even a minute to myself.”

“See? So, how could you have found time for me?”

“I would have, darling. Not plenty, but whatever little time I’d have gathered, I’d have made them memorable. For you. For us. And maybe we could have gone on long rides occasionally. Rekindle the old flames? Or-or we could have gone on visits to other realms...for political reasons, of course, but could have taken the opportunity to spend a small vacation with each other. What do you say?”

Painfully tempting images of a life that could have been floated in her eyes.

“And what if we came back to Earth, and I got involved in...say, a job that was all hectic and left me all frustrated, and with little time for you?” She shrugged.

With a sigh, Loki shifted to face her fully. “We will take care of each other, (Y/N). If one gets low, the other pulls both up. And I know that together, we can do anything! I believe in you more than I believe in myself.”

She smiled brightly as she acknowledged, “That is...that sounds doable, yes.”

“You’re special,” he placed a hand on her cheek, “and you need to be treated in the most special manner. One that befits my queen.”

A moment passed between them as they looked into each other's eyes, both seeing the same beautiful picture.

His queen!

My queen!!

Wait, what is he...?

Damn! What am I doing! What will she...!

Loki cleared his throat as he abruptly pulled his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, I...”

“No, it’s okay,” she cringed at the way the words squeaked out of her. Clearing her throat, she continued, “We were just giving examples.”

“Yes, just examples,” he agreed.

“It’s fine! I understand.”

“Great! It’d have been quite...awkward...otherwise.”

“Oh no! It’s...uh...totally fine. We’re best buddies!” She gave his arm a light punch.

“Right!” He nodded, and focused his gaze on the floor.

After taking a minute to calm his heart, he wore his witty persona back.

“See, having a relationship is not at all tough. All you need is a good partner. And I’ve proved myself right again! No, wait. There’s something you mortals do. It’s...uh...about throwing something...”

“Goblets? We don’t do that. It’s you-”

“No, not throwing, it’s about dropping something...after you have proven a point...”

“...Mic drop?” She chuckled.

His eyes lit up.

“Yes! ‘Mic drop’. So, as I was saying, all you need to have a happy and successful relationship is a good partner. Mic drop!” He concluded as he mimicked the action.

She sighed. “There’s just one tiny problem. I’d probably never find the right person. The ones that flirt with me, don’t understand me, and the ones that understand me have friendzoned me.”

“I’ve never friendzoned you,” Loki quickly replied with a frown. “J-Just clarifying...in case you were talking about me.”

“Of course, I’m talking about you, you big oaf!” She flicked his arm.

“Hey! You friendzoned me.”

“No…? It was you! Well, yeah, I never tried to flirt with you or anything but...anybody could see that you were being just my friend.”

“I can say the same about you,” Loki playfully accused.

“Whatever,” she shrugged.

A thought started playing in her mind. And a couple of seconds later, she decided to say it aloud, “I...umm...Just curious...y’know, don’t take it in any other way. Did you ever think of flirting with me?” She put forward each word very cautiously.

Loki furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she warned him, “Be honest!”

Immediately, his confident attitude changed into a helpless one. “Yes, I did. Maybe once. Or twice. But that was all! I assure you!”

She could hardly contain the amusement that was bubbling inside.

“What’s so funny about it?” Loki asked with furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” she shook her head as she tried to hold back her laughter, “nothing at all. It’s,” and then she lost it, “I’m sorry! It’s funny! I don’t know why, I find it funny hearing from you!”

“Look who’s laughing!” He said wryly. “I could clearly hear your thoughts the first few days after I stepped into this structure. Every compliment that your little mind cooed at my divine persona. And may I dare say that not all of them were decent.”

Her hysterics were long forgotten as her face went red at the comment.

“How dare you invade my mind?” Her hand had balled into a fist, ready to hit his arm when he caught it.

“I didn’t invade it, darling. You were practically shouting inside that pretty head of yours. I could have heard it from the other side of the planet!”

“That was a long time ago,” she refused to meet his eyes. “I make better choices and better decisions now.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it without uttering a syllable, and crossed her arms.

Loki nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, it’s fun to tease you. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“I hate you,” she peeked at him through the corner of her eye.

“What can I say,” Loki sighed. “Alright, if you say so.”

She smirked as she glanced at him sideways.

Loki cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle manner. “So, the next time Stark throws a party, I’ll find someone for you.”

Immediately, she face-palmed, and groaned, “No.”

“What?”

“Please drop this topic. And you’d probably find me a psychopath, anyway” She joked.

“That hurt!” Loki exclaimed with a hurt look masking his humour, “do you think so little of me? Can’t I find a proper partner for my best friend, my darling?”

“No, it didn’t hurt. Don’t fake it. I know you better than anyone.”

“No, you don’t. You-”

“I do. And...I’m fine, Loki” she reassured him, “being with myself, with the people here, being with you.” She gently bumped her knee into his.

“Will these be enough?” His tone had left the playfulness behind. “Will I be enough? For all your life?”

She shrugged, “I think so. You...stick with me all the time, you understand me, you...make me feel good. What more could I want to be happy?”

“You know what more you are missing. A friend can never touch the boundaries of what a lover can give you.”

“I don’t need a lover. Just be with me all my life, and I won’t need anyone else.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I will. I promise.”

Her playful smile was back. “Thanks for all the pep talk, my dearest God. But turns out that I’m better off alone. Now can we please go back to the game? It’s my turn to ask you.”

“Alright,” he smiled back, “if you say so.”

“Stop saying that!” A defeated sigh left her. “You won’t be convinced, will you?”

“Probably not. Because I know that this will gnaw at you again a few days later. I know you’ll be sad again. And that I won’t allow on my watch.”

“God!”

“Right here, listening to you!” Loki quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, ”Damn you!” And proceeded to put forward a proper argument.

“The reason why I’m avoiding a new relationship is because I don’t want another heartache. I can’t handle breakups. That’s why I’m...”

When Loki didn’t make another attempt at dissuading her from her arguments, she added, “I just...try everything to avoid a heartbreak. Because when I get one, I lose control over myself.”

“Yes, I’ve seen. Once.”

“Then you must have noticed how vicious I become. Sarcasm drips from my mouth all the time, I say things that I shouldn’t, I...I hurt people. And in turn, I hurt myself. I yell at those who want nothing but good for me. But...”

“But being mean seems to be the only way to mask the pain,” he finished her line.

“It does, yes!”

She looked at him, and into his eyes that silently spoke of the pain that was resurfacing. She remembered something.

“You and I are so...alike!”

He nodded with a smile. “And maybe that is why we understand each other more than anyone ever could. … But we’re more than just being alike, if you think about it.”

She noticed how his voice gradually rose from its usual calmness to an excited tone, and his hands moved with his words.

Loki continued, “You point out my mistakes but don’t accuse me like everyone else does. You show me what’s right. And there’s this-this thing about you, which is so scary...the way you make me do all the things that you want. I-I mean, I am the God here! But you…a mortal...how can you have so much power over me?”

He sighed as his voice dropped to a compassionate tone, “You make me happy, (Y/N). You’ve taught me to forgive when I can, to forget what I can’t fix.”

“Don’t always do that,” she interrupted with a smirk.

His evil smile made a brief appearance before he resumed his warm note, “I like being with you. No...I love being with you! You make me feel good. You make me feel...I don’t know.... You make me feel…”

“Complete?”

“Yes!” He observed her, “You complete me.”

For yet another time, silence enveloped them. The only difference was that this time, it was comfortable. Even in their hushed moments, they could hear each other, know what the other wanted to say.

After a while of exchanging quiet stares, (Y/N) spoke, “All this time I believed, but now I know for myself, that you are indeed Silvertongue!”

Loki looked at his lap and laughed, but in the pale light of the setting moon, she noticed the pink that had crept up his ears and cheeks.

“I meant every word of what I said,” he reassured her once again that evening.

“I know, Loki.”

Loki watched her as she shifted to a kneeling position, and leaned towards him. He felt his face becoming hotter as she supported herself on his shoulder with one hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheekbone.

As she settled back, her lips tingled with the memory of Loki’s skin on it.

They had been best friends, yes, but she had never allowed herself more than a quick hug because she knew that Loki wasn’t someone open to random touches. And she wanted to respect that. Always.

But this peck felt right. It felt necessary. And it felt...different.

What happened next wasn’t guided by logic anymore, but only by their senses.

Loki put his legs back on the pouffe, and scooted a little closer to (Y/N). Taking the cue, she shifted so that her leg was stretched out, and back on the pouffe - not on hers but his - and sat close to him. He arranged the blanket so that it covered them both again.

Another stretch of silence enveloped them. To them, the moment was beautiful. To Loki, who had never experienced anything similar before, it was precious. If he could stop time, he would have done it right then and there.

“Why haven’t you found anyone yet?” She asked him.

“Royalty has its disadvantages,” he replied without taking a moment to think.

She leaned back slightly to get a good look at his face, “Didn’t you ever find anyone from the royal...uh...what do you call it? Of royal blood?”

Loki laughed at her naivety. “Can’t say I didn’t. But none of them were the one. Besides, most people chose my handsome brother over me. And if anyone chose me, well, it was mostly because of my royal title. None of them were real.”

“That’s awful! I would never have done that to you! I’d have chosen you for the wonderful being that you are. But, I get it; happens on our planet, too.”

“Everywhere,” he asserted.

“So...who do you think is the one for you?”

He looked down at her face, which was mere inches away from his. For the first time in months of their friendship, he felt something swell inside his chest at the closeness.

“I still don’t know,” he whispered, “but I think the Norns might have started giving me clues.”

He didn’t need to explain, obviously. All the tension that had been building up throughout the night had placed them both on the same page.

Without thinking, Loki moved his wrist so that his palm was facing the ceiling. And instinctively, (Y/N) placed her hand in it, their fingers closing around each other.

"It's odd," she announced after a while.

"Indeed."

"It's weird. I mean, what were we even thinking!" She huffed, although she was still clutching his hand, as was he holding hers.

"Exactly what I was thinking. You and me?” Loki laughed nervously, “Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Right".

Silence, their faithful companion for the night, visited them once again.

"Could it be? You and me?" Loki’s voice was a little more than a whisper, and bordered on the edge of confidence and doubt.

"Doesn't sound so bad. Not after all these... Talks?" She whispered back.

"Right!"

"Right."

And once again, they fell quiet.

The strangeness of the moment pushed them both into a whirlpool of thoughts. From acquaintances to partners to friends to best friends to...lovers?

Can this even be possible? What if it’s just a passing phase? What if everything goes back to normal tomorrow? Will we still be able to talk normally? But… This feels right. Just...right.

With a sigh, (Y/N) put her head on Loki’s shoulder.

"I don't want to rush into anything and ruin what we have," she confessed in a hushed tone, eyes staring into the night outside.

"Neither do I. You're the only one I have."

With a raised brow, she looked up at him.

"And Thor," he corrected himself with a small smile.

"Glad you remember him "

"Shut up.

Slowly, hesitantly, Loki put his free hand around her. Unsure of the appropriateness of the action, he kept his arm loosely hanging around her frame.

He waited for a while. Had Loki looked at her face, instead of looking straight ahead in fear, he would have noticed the small smile that had formed on her lips.

When she didn’t flinch or protest, he began to rest his arm properly but gently on her. He even went ahead and made the slightest possible effort to pull her closer to him.

The smile that had started forming on her now spread wide enough to turn into a grin. Its reflection was found on Loki’s face, too, who could finally muster the courage to look at her, although he was equally worried that she would be able to hear his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

With every minute that passed, Loki became more baffled, for he couldn’t decide which moment he’d frame and hang on the wall of his heart as the most precious one.

"Are you feeling hot?" She asked without looking at him.

"A bit, yes. You, too?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she gulped.

"Is it normal?"

"I guess, yes. Totally! Had we been cool about it, it'd have meant that there's no spark between us. It’d have felt awkward, wrong."

"So, you agree that there's a spark between us?" He didn’t even attempt to hide the mischievous smirk that shone on his face.

"I had always suspected," she nodded.

"Hmm. When was the last time we went out for dinner?" He asked.

“Probably last month...or was it-”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at him. She could barely put a lid on her excitement.

"Are you proposing to take me out on a date?"

"Well, if we are going to do this, then I'd like to court you properly."

She felt like she'd burst out of sheer excitement.

"If you'd agree to it, that is" Loki clarified.

Taking a large breath, she replied, "I'd love it."

The night was going better than either had expected. Who would have thought that a game of weird questions and a few confessions could change their lives!

(Y/N) put her head back on his shoulder, and let her body slump against him. He held her confidently this time.

“It still feels weird though,” she declared.

“It does, yes, but...maybe this is...right?” In a long time, Loki was hopeful about something, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. No.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

“Just so you know,” she sat up straight, “Thor is handsome, yes, but you are devilishly charming. You’re intelligent, well-read, witty, sarcastic, great at combat...uh...”

“Go on,” Loki smirked, earning a playful glare from her.

“You are,” she continued, “seductive! And who can resist a sorcerer who knows his way around everything!”

The evil smile that Loki had put away found its way back on his face. “As far as I remember, I did nothing to seduce you. I wonder what will happen if I try...”

“Shut up, Loki! You know I give away raw compliments. I didn’t really mean...I didn’t think...”

He laughed heartily at the furious way she was blushing.

“I was only pulling your leg. I had imagined you to be wise,” he clarified.

“I am! It’s just... I was...” She shook her head.

“So,” Loki resumed, “you think I’m devilishly charming?”

“Drop the topic, please!”

“You can’t resist my sorcery, ha?”

“Please change the topic! Forget what I said!!”

Loki laughed as he continued teasing her. It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, she realized, with the God of Mischief, but it was going to be the best ever!

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“I know it was your turn to ask but, what if...you and I are indeed meant to be together?”

She smiled as she rubbed her cheek on his shirt, “I think we’ll have a gorgeous future together. And...I’d love that more than anything else.”

---------------------

The next morning...

“Morning, Wanda-”

“Shh! Shh!!” The red-haired witch silenced Natasha, and pointed towards the couch.

Curious, Natasha’s eyes followed the direction that Wanda’s finger was pointing at.

There, snuggled in a blanket, fast asleep, sat (Y/N) and Loki, their legs spread on a pouffe, tangled with each other’s. Loki’s arm was wrapped around her shoulder while she was holding his waist. Her head lay on his chest and his on hers.

“Aren’t they cute?” Wanda whispered.

Before Nat could reply, Tony’s voice cut the conversation.

“Who’s cute?”

This time, both the ladies shushed him, leaving a perplexed expression on his once sleepy face.

When they pointed towards the couch, Tony huffed, “These two! God knows what’s taking them so long to realise! They’re just so-” His face lit up. “Know what? I have an idea! I’ll make them confess. Who’s up for it?”

***

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

And...a song for keeping the feelings floating...💕

[nebulein]

The only top Jonny does is Kaner

Nonnie now you're just pushing all my buttons 😂

But yes. 😏

"Jonny."

"What?"

"Come here, please."

They're in the hotel about to go out on stage of the convention, but right now it's just the team gathering backstage, guys horsing around, saying hello, comparing tans, swapping vacation resort pics and one upping each other's golf stories.

"What," Jonny asks again, voice flat, eyes flinty, but he came when Pat told him to, and that's all Pat needs.

"Do you think I don't notice?"

Jonny swallows, eyes darting around the room, very carefully not meeting Pat's. Which means Jonny knows exactly what he's doing. Good. Pat wants him to know, to push it. That'll just make it all the sweeter when Pat puts Jonny on his knees later, makes him admit all the little ways he's trying to push Kaner's buttons.

"Do you shirt up," Kaner orders, voice low, and then leans in close. The next words are just for Jonny, whispered in his ear, Pat's hair brushing Jonny's temple, a fleeting touch. "Little slut."

He hears Jonny's sharp inhale, anticipates the little shudder running through Jonny. Jonny's always so fucking easy for it.

"Later," Pat promises, giving Jonny's arm a quick squeeze. Later, Pat's gonna make him strip, show Pat just how good at unbuttoning a shirt Jonny is. Later, Jonny's gonna get to tell Pat all about his fun summer, naked and on his knees for Pat, tell all those stories the audience out there will never hear. Jonny's always keyed up in the summer, when they barely see each other. That's okay. Pat's here to remind him what a good sub looks like.

He doesn't stay and wait for Jonny to do it. Jonny got the message, the offer's on the table. It's up to Jonny to decide what to do with it, if he wants to play.

"Yo Sharpy, wait up," Pat calls, jogging across the room. "I haven't seen you in forever, man, how you've been?"

It's easy, familiar, to catch up with the boys, shoot the shit, even if underneath he's thrumming with tension, hand inside his pocket running over the edge of his room key and all the promises it holds. Pat listens to Burish lament the lack of AC in Italy and lets Crow show off the new sun porch he's built, carefully keeping his eyes towards the front of the room where he doesn't run the danger of catching an errant 19. Pat'll have his answer soon enough.

"Gentlemen, if you'd follow me."

Pat exhales, following Soupy out the door.

By the time they step on stage Jonny's top buttons are done up, all prim and proper.

Pat smirks. Game on.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Dominante Imp S/O x Millie & Moxxie.

Meeting the boss.

(This is a continuation of my previous dominant imp x M&M.)

In the five or so months you'd been together youd gotten a very mixed idea of who there boss was. Millie painted him as a lovable goof who would push boundaries on the regular.

Moxxie on the other hand, spoke as though he was a pervert Stalker who had it out for him.

Of course you challenged both of them, asked where he'd been for the last five months of he were a stalker and why Moxxie hated him so much if he were a harmless goofball.

Moxxie tells you Blitzø had been unusually busy as of late, with both work and Stolas.

Which was lucky, because Moxxie wasn't sure how you'd react if you found a strange Imp in the apartment.

So instead they decide it would be better if you met him properly, instead of finding him hiding in your fridge.

So the next day they bring you along to the I.M.P offices. Both Millie and Moxxie had mixed feelings about this meeting.

They weren't sure how Blitzø would react, and then they weren't sure how you'd react to his reaction.

Making it to the office, the two gave you a series of warnings about how to approach the subject.

You dismissed there concerns, I mean you could easily take on six sinners at once without breaking a sweat. If Blitzø wanted to dance, youd dance.

So entering the office, you were met with the young hellhound'et that you instantly realised was the source of so much of Mixxie stress.

You swallowed a scowl before going up to greet her. 'You must be Loona. I've heard... a lot about you.'

Loona barely gave you a glance before going back to her phone. Millie came up besides you and asked if Blitzø was in yet.

Loona just gave a lazy nod towards a door to her right.

Millie thanked the hellhound before giving you a kiss and going to find him.

That seemed to get Loona's attention, looking at you she raised an eyebrow.

'Wondering what that was?' You asked nonchalantly. Loona glanced over the Moxxie and smirked. 'Oh yeah.'

Turning to her you smiled back, 'Well im not one to kiss and tell, but basically, for the past five or so months I've been the third partner in our little party.'

'No. Fucking. Way.' She said incredulously before bursting into laughter. 'So Moxxie really is a cuck.'

You instantly soured at her words before slaming your hands on her desk. 'Lets get something clear, young lady. Me, Moxxie and Millie are a couple, eh, I mean triad. We are in a relationship, alright.'

Reaching into your coat you pulled out a long yellow envelope. 'Simply put, I'm going to be around frequently as of starting immediately. And from what I've heard you relish in making the lifes of others as hard as possible.' You waited a moment for Loonas reaching. The hellhound just kind of nodding her head.

'So in order to keep our relationship civil, I'm going to bribe you.' Loona perked up at that. 'Bribe me with what?' She asked, eyebrow raised.

'This' you told her, handing over the envelope.

Taking the envelope, she pulled out two pieces of paper. Her eyes bulged 'Holy shit are these-'

'F#ck you dad, tickets? Yes.' You cut in, Snatching them out of her hands. Twirling them around your fingers you told her 'Not just tickets, VIP tickets.' You held the tickest up, showing the Gold film over them.

The feminine hellhounds eyes growing to animated proportions.

'I was gonna take the pair out, but couldn't find an extra ticket. So there all yours. IF. You play nice. Do we have a deal?'

Loona thought for a long minute before reply. 'Fine. I'll try to play nice.'

'You do more then try.' You told her as you handed her the tickets.

Just as you let them go, the door to your left burst open.

'Alright where is this guy' the imp that you could only assume was Blitzø.

You stepped forward, Blitzø's attention falling on you. 'Okay, so Millie here says she wants to introduce me to someone important and I'm guessing that's you.'

Sticking your hand out you told him 'Yes I believe so. You must be Blitzø, ive heard... Interesting things about you.'

Blitzø took your hand, giving it a hearty shake. 'Well im a pretty interesting guy.'

You chuckled at that, before Millie came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your chest.

Going ridged you were about to turn around and ask what Millie was doing, when you felt someone grab your hand.

Looking to your right you found Moxxie holding your hand, an innocent little smile across his face.

You were about to ask him what he's doing when it strikes you. Looking over to Millie, you find her wearing a devious little smile. Looking back Moxxie you find him wearing a similar, if not slightly more anxious smile.

'Oh you little bastards, didn't want to make it too easy for me aye?' Millie whispered back in that sexy southern drawl, 'Nope.'

Chuckling you tell them 'You are gonna pay for this tonight.'

Looking back to Blitzø, I find a very confused Imp staring at me. 'Whats going on?' He asked, obviously suspicious.

'W-well, you see. For the last five months or so Me, Millie and Moxxie have kinda... sorta... been in a relationship.'

You leaned back a little, waiting for his reaction. It takes a minute before he screams 'What!'

You pull back, putting yourself between Blitzø and the pair.

Shrugged of the pairs touch, you repeated yourself. 'Me and your two employees are in a relationship.'

Blitzø balled his fists before slaming them the table. 'For fucks sake!' He screamed. 'Three years and this fucker lives out my fantasy.'

You look at the Imp unsure how to respond, but before you could you heard Moxxie speak up. 'Fantasy?' He asked behind you.

Blitzø chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. 'Well I mean, surely it's not a secret I've kinda had a thing for you guys for a while.'

'Eww' Loona muttered, looking up from her phone.

Turning around you were quickly pulled forward, Blitzø wrapping his arm around your neck.

'So tell me, Uuh, what was your name again?' He asked. '(Y/N)' you replied.

'Aah, yes of course. So (Y/N), tell me what's it like? ' you raised an eyebrow, unsure what he meant. 'What's what like?'

'You know, the two of them... in bed?' He wagged his eyebrows at the end. You instantly sobered up.

Pulling your arm off your shoulder you stepped away from him. 'Sorry buddy, but that's between me and the two of them.'

Blitzø blew it off, wrapping his arm around your shoulder again. 'Come on, just give me a few details. Tell me, Is Moxxie a total bottom or can he dom.'

At this point you were done with his antics and practically threw his arm off of you.

'Listen, I get it, Moxxie and Millie have both told me you don't really do "Boundries" but our relationship is just that, Ours. You wanna hang out at work or go out for drinks, no problem.'

You turned serious 'But in our home, unless your invited. I don't wanna see you there.'

Blitzø wore a smirk , a smirk Id seen a hundred times over. The cocky little shit was gonna test me.

'Really?' He asked, smirk growing. I chuckled back, 'Yeah, really.'

Turing to him you told him 'I get it, your a killer, assassin for hire i get really. You kill people for a living.' You slipped a hand into your pocket, 'But do you know what I do?'

Blitzø just shook his head. 'I'm a bouncer, ya know what that means.' You ask him.

'You bounce things?' He asked dripping with sarcasm. You gave a dry chuckle back before gripping the back of his neck.

'My job is to put smartasses like you in there place. There place being on the curb, missing a few teeth.'

Blitzø's smirk grew a little larger, a little anger in his eyes. And before you knew it, he swung at you. His left arm swung in a sloppy haymaker.

Of course you were to quick, and easily dodged it, only to return with a proper haymaker. Although your haymaker came with a shiny set of brass knuckles, courtesy of your right pocket.

Blitzø went down, with one punch, like a sack of rocks.

You stepped back, taking a look at the now unconscious Imp. You could see a large bruise beginning to form on the left side of his face.

Moxxie and Millie came up besides you, looking down at the Imp. 'Bout time someone knocked some sense into him.' Moxxie grumbled.

'Mox he's our boss!' Millie scolded her husband. 'No. He's right.' You cut in, 'play stupid games, win stupid prizes and your boss chose to play a very stupid game.'

It took about an hour before he woke up, still on the floor he released a long groan before sitting up.

You walked up to him, coffee in hand before squatting down and checking his cheek.

'Hey there champ, good nap?' You ask, feeling particularly smug.

Blitzø rubbed his face, groaning out 'You get the make and model on the that Truck that hit me.'

You chuckled, 'No I did not. But I'm sure it would be happy to come right on back, unless that is, you've learnt your lesson?'

Blitzø looked up at you, the implications of your words sinking in. His eyes shifted across the room, then onto you.

'Yeah' he said, nodding his head 'lesson learnt.' Handing him the coffee you helped him to his feet.

'Good boy.' You told him before calling Millie and Moxxie over.

Steering the two towards the door you turn to Blitzø and ask, 'Its alright if they take the day off, aye Boss?'

Blitzø just gave a weak little thumbs up before turning and heading for his office.

Turning back to the pair, you leaned into Moxxie's ear and whispered 'Now who do I need to punish for that little scheme back there.'

[cinnaminsvga]

Undercover (M)

→ summary: the company banquets that your family loves to host are often drearier than you would like them to be. lucky for you, your bodyguards have the perfect solution: why don’t you play a little game with them? 

the only rule? you must keep quiet at all costs.

→ pairing: vamp!jungkook x reader x siren!seokjin → genre: bodyguard!au, supernatural, smut → warnings: dom!jin, switch!kook, sub!reader, remote vibrator, rough public sex, fingering, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, blood-drinking, hypnotization, jin is kinda sadistic, basically pwp ;_; → words: 5.4K → a/n: this is for the holiday fic exchange that was held on @btsghostiewritersnet!! my fic is dedicated to ms @jincherie​ (aka the loml and also the recipient of 1/3 of the fics i’ve written this year??) who requested this prompt. i’m not really good with poly or smut fics, but i tried my best??? it ended up being a lil more jk centric than i anticipated but HHHH IDK I JUST HOPE YOU LIKE THIS EVEN A TEENY BIT ;o; anyway... happy holidays everyone!!

You can feel their eyes on you.

Except that isn’t much of a revelation—they are always watchful of you, after all. Your father pays a hefty enough salary that they would risk their lives to keep you safe, so it isn’t much of a surprise to know that they are lurking at the sides, keeping distant and close all at once.

This time, however, is different. You know for a fact that it is different. There is a subtle shift in the air, something tangible enough that you can almost touch it, taste it. You know that if you glance back at them, you will find two pairs of eyes, watching and waiting for… something.

That fact alone is enough to keep the goosebumps on your arms from subsiding. You feel like a canister just waiting to burst, a small disturbance enough to get you to erupt into flames and burn every last inch of propriety left in your being. Tonight, they are here to ruin you.

“Why are you acting so damn fidgety? Stand still,” your brother huffs after a while, pinching you lightly in the side. It breaks you from your reverie, causing you to jolt away with wide eyes.

“W-what?” you ask breathlessly. You wipe your clammy hands across your expensive dress, leaving wrinkles in their wake. “Sorry. I just… had a lot of coffee before coming here, is all. I needed the wake-me-up.”

He watches you for a moment, raising an eyebrow at your odd behavior. You can tell that he’s suspicious, but he inevitably shrugs it off, too unbothered to care. Like you, it takes a whole deal to get Yoongi excited about anything, and having a jumpy sister is far from reaching his quota. “Whatever. Just don’t cause a scene, alright? These events might be boring as hell, but dad has a bunch of important people here tonight, so you better get your shit together.”

You snort. “Right. Like when does he not invite important people to these parties?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. Just behave, alright? I’m not covering for you if you piss someone off.”

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of asking,” you mutter. Little does he know, you are already planning on behaving tonight, anyway. That is the name of the game, after all.

On a makeshift stage at the head of the ballroom, your father has just finished giving his opening remarks, thanking all his esteemed guests for making it to tonight’s banquet. Polite applause follows soon after, the clamor loud enough to mask the way you inhale sharply in surprise. Your back straightens imperceptibly, your body going rigid as if you had been struck by lightning. To your left, your brother is none the wiser to your panic, his attention glued to his phone.

When the clapping breaks, you nearly speak your prayers aloud when the ambush on your senses suddenly stops as well. You take one, two calming breaths, your core throbbing needily as you await the second wave to hit. Disappointed when nothing comes, you smooth your dress down, fighting the urge to look around to see if anyone was watching.

Legs slightly weaker and breath a little shakier, you walk among the throngs of people as they make their way to their seats, getting ready for dinner to be served. Instead of heading to where your family’s table would be located, you change direction halfway and walk towards the back. Yoongi does not comment, just nodding back at you and going the other way as well. This is normal etiquette for both of you, anyway—your father has always expected the two of you to wander during these parties, greeting guests and socializing with them as proper hosts should.

Except that isn’t on your agenda for tonight. Right now, you have a game to play, and you don’t intend on losing your focus to anything else.

It does not take you long to find who you are looking for. Just like he promised, Jungkook is standing close to the east entrance, standing stock still against the wall in his designer black suit. When he notices you approach, his stern demeanor softens, a small smile gracing his Adonis-like features. It is nothing more than a quirk of his lips, but it is enough for a flash of something sharp to catch your eye. It disappears before you can even blink, but you know that what you had seen is far from a figment of your imagination.

To an outsider, Jungkook looks as intimidating as any regular bodyguard should be: tall and muscular, coupled with a dangerous gaze that could pierce diamond. He certainly works like one too, as your father would have never hired him if he wasn’t 100% sure that Jungkook was up to his lofty standards.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there is something else that sets Jungkook apart if you just looked close enough. Even from a few feet apart, you can see the redness lining his irises, the deathly pallor of his skin, the sallowness of his cheeks. As you get closer, you notice other things too, like how his hands tremble against his sides and how his breathing has gotten shallow.

Everything about him screams vampire—a starving one, at that.

“How long has it been now?” you murmur, gently nudging your shoulder against his. You keep close to him, feeling yourself relax at the mere scent of him. Jungkook always somehow manages to smell good; you suppose that’s a given since you don’t think he’s even capable of sweating.

“Since the party started?” he asks.

“No, silly. How long has it been since you last fed?”

“Three days, seventeen hours, and twenty-one minutes, ma’am. But who’s counting?” he wheezes, offering you a strained smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really, but I know you,” you reply. A little too well, in fact. “Seokjin hasn’t even allowed you a snack? Even once?”

Jungkook coughs out a laugh, amused. “You and I both know that hyung wouldn’t be that merciful. He did say that if I behave today, then maybe…” he trails off. You don’t miss the way he stares longingly at you, thinly veiled desire rolling off him in waves.

You feel the blood rushing up to your face, turning away from him in embarrassment. You have to remind yourself not to rub your neck, lest the make-up covering your fading scar give away your dirty little secret. “I’m sorry, by the way. I kind of did this to both of us, huh?”

Jungkook chuckles, snaking an arm around your waist. You shoot him a warning glare, but you both know he only dares to get comfortable with you when he’s sure no one is watching. Besides, it’s always been hard for you to get mad at the boy, not when he has always been so sweet with you.

“No, it’s fine. We all agreed to this when you proposed it. Besides, neither hyung nor I are going to risk our health when your safety is on the line. It’s not that bad, I promise.”

“If you’re sure,” you say, glancing at him doubtfully. You have never seen Jungkook quite so… unhinged before, as if he’s just a step away from teetering off the edge. It scares you just as much as it arouses you, but you make sure to keep that to yourself. “I honestly didn’t think Seokjin would be this ruthless.”

Jungkook snorts. “I’ve known him for a long time, Y/N. Trust me when I say that he is definitely going easy on us, especially you.”

“If this is easy, I’m afraid to know how he’s like when he goes all out then,” you say, but the thought of Seokjin becoming even more merciless than usual sends an excited shiver down your spine.

“How about you?” Jungkook asks. “Are you doing okay with the, um, you know?” He flushes, still shy to even say it aloud even after all the things the two of you have done together.

You giggle, unable to resist the urge to tease him. “You tell me, Koo. You can smell me, can’t you?” You lean closer, looking at him through your lashes. “You could probably smell from across the ballroom, especially with how hungry you are… My poor baby,” you coo. You have your chest pressed against his, your low neckline leaving nothing to the imagination. And yet, his gaze is fixed elsewhere, red eyes following the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

It’s a rhetorical question; you know he can smell you. The remote vibrator in your underwear has been on the lowest setting ever since the night started. The vibrations are persistent enough to keep you constantly aroused, but it’s never enough to give you what you really want.

And just when you think you’ve gotten used to the sensation, Seokjin will spike it up occasionally, causing your composure to crack ever so slightly. You’re pretty sure he hasn’t turned it on to the highest setting yet, but judging from how the dampness of your underwear has seeped past your thighs, you aren’t sure if you’d be able to keep your cool if he did.

“Do I smell good, Koo? I know you said my blood tastes sweetest when I’m like this, right?” you whisper, trailing a finger down his chest. He does not reply, his nostrils flaring as he struggles to control his breathing. He has a dangerous edge in his expression, a simmering darkness just begging to be released. It’s the kind of lust that sweet and lovely Jungkook hardly ever has the capability of showcasing, except during moments like these, when he is at his hungriest and most desperate.

“I’m not going to lose the game this early on,” he says, voice quiet. There is danger in still waters, you recall your mother telling you when you were younger, and you find that there is truth behind her words after all. Jungkook may sound calm, but the edge in his tone is laced with meaning.

“No fun,” you laugh.

As if on cue, your own dose of karma hits you when Seokjin decides to turn the vibrator up to its maximum setting. “Shit,” you gasp, barely holding back your moans. You nearly double over, mostly from shock, not expecting the intensity of the vibrations. You feel your legs turn to jelly, your body heating up and breaking out into a sweat. You have to lean against Jungkook for support, your grip on his biceps so tight that you’re afraid that you might have torn through the fabric. If he had been human, you might have worried that you were hurting him.

Jungkook stumbles slightly against your weight, surprising the both of you as he’s normally as sturdy as a brick wall. Your worry for Jungkook supersedes the lust addling your brain long enough to wonder if his blood fast is starting to affect him.

“S-sorry, Koo. Are you okay? Are you getting dizzy from hunger?” you ask, your words stilted and breathy as you try to ignore the pleasure coursing through your veins. “We can go somewhere and—fuckfuckfuck—”

You are unable to finish your sentence, having to muffle your moans by biting into his shoulder. You’re shaking and panting, the relentless assault on your clit causing a fresh wave of arousal to drip down your cunt and ruin your panties even further. The coil inside of you is close to snapping, your long-awaited climax just inches away. You have half a mind to reach under your dress and chase after your high, but the sensible part of you reminds you that you are still at a public event—your father’s public event, to be exact. So instead, you wrap your arms around Jungkook to restrain yourself, looking to all the world as if you were just two lovers in an embrace.

Just as you’re about to finish, the vibrator shuts off completely, snatching away any hopes of you coming. You want to scream in frustration, a few tears threatening to fall as you squeeze your eyes tightly. Eventually, you release your death grip on Jungkook, keeping your head bowed to hide the way you’re still short for breath. When you feel less hazy, you take a shaky step away from him while muttering apologies to Jungkook.

“S-sorry about that. So much for Seokjin going easy on me, huh? I really didn’t expect him to pull a fast one on me like that—”

When Jungkook doesn’t respond, you turn back to face him. “O-oh,” you whisper lamely, your blood heating up when your gaze meets his. “Jungkook?” you call out, though you don’t think he’ll be up for much conversation right now.

You have never quite seen him like this before. His eyes have started glowing red, so much so that there’s barely a sliver of white remaining. His fangs have extended far past what should have been humanly possible, its sharp tips puncturing his bottom lip. He doesn’t even appear to be moving, not even showing any signs that he might have been breathing at all.

“Jungkook,” you repeat. You tug on his sleeve hesitantly, but he stands as still as a statue. “Jungkook, get a hold of yourself!” It takes you a few moments of coaxing and shaking before some semblance of lucidity returns to him.

He blinks a few times, but his incisors have yet to retract. “Sorry,” he grunts, bringing a hand up to his face. He rubs at his eyes, and when he reopens them, they’ve stopped glowing. His irises are still a deep shade of red. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d lose myself there. That’s never happened before.”

“You were kinda scary there for a second,” you laugh nervously. “Almost like you were going to eat me alive.”

“I honestly might have,” Jungkook admits. “If Seokjin hadn’t stopped you from coming right then, I might have just fed from you right in the open.”

You shiver. You kind of hate yourself for liking the sound of that, even if it was hypothetical. Your bodyguards wouldn’t risk your reputation like that. For a moment, it almost could have been real though, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

“You would’ve lost the game then,” you say instead.

Jungkook chuckles weakly, shaking his head. “You, Seokjin, and I already knew from the start that if anyone was going to lose, it was always going to be me.”

“Conceding defeat, then?” you ask. You press your thighs together in anticipation, catching the way he watches your movements like a predator awaiting its prey. “Is anyone watching us?”

With your back facing the party, you would never have known if anyone was close enough to hear your strangled moans back then. Ever the attentive bodyguard despite hunger and lust clouding his mind, Jungkook had still made sure that the two of you were far away enough from prying eyes. Well, with the exception of one.

“He was watching us,” Jungkook mumbles. You don’t turn to look when he points somewhere behind you. “He’s by the northwest entrance. He was watching us the whole time, but now he’s talking to your brother’s bodyguard.”

“How much do you wanna bet he won’t notice us sneaking out?” you ask, giggling when Jungkook gives you an incredulous look. “What? Didn’t you once say you could sneak me out of anywhere without my father knowing?”

“Your father and Kim Seokjin are two different people in two different leagues,” he points out. He glances at Seokjin once more, rubbing his neck nervously. “Oh, he’s definitely going to figure out what we’re doing the moment we get out of here.”

You shrug, already tugging him by the hand towards the restroom outside the ballroom. You wink at him, your giggles full of mischief. “Then it’s settled. We lose this game, and then we start another one.”

“Another one?” Jungkook echoes, following you like a dutiful pet. When you exit the ballroom, you find the reception area empty save for a few other security guards loitering by the elevators, surreptitiously on their phones. You easily make it past them and head to where the restrooms are, setting your sights on the polished wooden doors.

You push Jungkook inside the women’s restroom, locking the door once you both are settled inside. Turning to face him with an eager grin, you almost let out a laugh at the overenthusiastic gleam in his eyes. “New game plan. I call this one the ‘let’s see if we can get off before Seokjin catches us’ game.”

“Sounds thrilling,” Jungkook chuckles, but he’s already opening his arms when you walk over to him. You accept his embrace, pressing him against the marble sinks and slotting your lips together.

The kiss is fiery, all teeth and no finesse. He has one hand grabbing fistfuls of your ass and the other cupping your jaw as he holds you in place. Your own hands almost seem like they don’t know what to do, scrambling up and down his sides before finally locking around his neck as your mind goes blank.

Jungkook’s incisors cut your lips accidentally, causing droplets of blood to trickle down. They don’t even make it past your chin before Jungkook’s voracious tongue is already lapping it up, his groans echoing in the vastly large room.

You barely register the pain before Jungkook is offering another distraction in the form of his lips trailing down to your jaw until he reaches your neck, his breath leaving goosebumps across your skin. “Y/N,” he rasps, his fangs dizzyingly close.

Before he can choose to do anything, you trail a finger to his chin, forcing him to look at you. His eyes appear glazed over, almost as if he isn’t even fully cognizant of his surroundings. But when he catches sight of the way a fresh droplet of blood is already beginning to take form on your lips, his gaze hardens immediately.

You smirk, giggling when he groans at you licking up your bloodied lip. “No marks on my neck, baby. You’re gonna have to drink from down there.”

In any other scenario, you might have been concerned at how quickly he drops to his knees. He doesn’t look too bothered, however, as he bunches up your dress to your chest and tears your pathetic excuse for underwear into shreds. The small purple vibrator falls to the ground along with it, neither of you worried about where it is rolling away.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, burying his nose into your cunt. You yelp loudly, sensitive after hours of edging. You unconsciously try to trap him with your thighs, but he holds them apart with an iron grip. From your vantage point, you can only see his eyelashes grazing your stomach as he licks two long stripes across your slit, nearly causing you to fall over had he not been holding you.

“Shit.” He leans back to look at you properly, his mouth shiny with your slick. “Can I? Can I please?”

You don’t even know what exactly it is that he’s asking, but you’re already nodding anyway, eager for him to do something, anything. “Yes, yes, yes. C’mon, Koo. Give it to me,” you whine. Your voice sounds hoarse to your ears, desperate and delirious.

Not one to disobey, Jungkook does exactly that. One moment he is on the floor and the next he is lifting you with ease, placing you on the marble counter and standing between your legs to keep them spread. He returns to kneeling and hooks your legs onto his shoulders. He caresses your thighs with a gentleness that seems out of place, craning his neck sideways so he can plant a chaste kiss on your inner thigh.

You whimper impatiently, nudging him with your knee. “Jungkook, this is sweet and all, but my pussy has been aching to be stuffed for hours now so I’d really appreciate it if we can just get on with the pro-o-g-gram—” you stammer, your verbal skills forgotten the moment his thumb brushes your clit. Your body jerks on instinct, his delicate touch like lightning on your skin. “Ah, fuck! Jungkook, please!”

You have your head thrown back, unable to keep still when he proceeds to push a finger into you without warning. He pumps into you slowly, the drag of his fingertips torturously slow as you incoherently beg for more.

“More? You fucking asked for it,” he grunts, adding a second finger and being rewarded with another chorus of moans from you. He fucks his fingers into you like a drill, the obscene squelch of your sopping cunt coupled with the sound of palm hitting against your clit is like music to his ears. He can sense the way your blood is rushing through you right now, pleasure thrumming through your limbs and making you intoxicatingly sweet.

“I can’t wait to taste you, darling,” he says, licking his lips in anticipation. “You must love this, don’t you? Love it when I finger you like this, even though you know hyung is going to catch us and punish us for this?”

You nod fervently, incoherent babbles dribbling from your open mouth. “W-want both of you! Want S-Seokjin to catch us and make us cry.” You gasp, your stomach clenching when he curls his fingers in just the right way to make your toes curl in pleasure. “Koo, I’m a-almost there!”

Your pussy, despite hours of being constantly aroused, still feels like a vice grip, selfishly sucking him back. He relishes your moans, drawing more sounds out of you that you had not known you were capable of producing. There is no time or space for shame as your whines grow higher in pitch, calling out his name when you sense your orgasm approach.

Jungkook feels feverish when he finally takes a bite from your skin, your blood made sweeter when you climaxed from his fingers alone. The meat of your thigh gushes crimson like a fountain upon his desert-like tongue. He is drunk on you; not even nectar can be sweeter than you.

He drinks for what feels like hours, lapping at your wound until he cannot stomach another drop. A blatant lie, of course, but he also does not wish to drink you dry. So with a heavy heart, he pulls away, leaving one last lick up your thigh to stop the bleeding. He slumps back on his knees, his head lolling drowsily as he looks at you with a satisfied smile.

You are in no better condition, your chest heaving as you struggle to regain your sanity after both the mind-blowing orgasm and blood loss. Still, you smirk sleepily back at him, your eyebrow raised as if in question.

“What?” Jungkook drawls.

Instead of a verbal response, you point at his crotch with your feet. When he looks down, his dick is completely hard, his erection straining against his slacks. He was so deeply engrossed in the flavor of you that he had not even stopped to consider his own arousal, but now that it has been so kindly pointed out by you, the need to be inside of you consumes him like a fire burning him on a stake.

A guttural sound escapes his throat, a renewed fervor pushing him to climb to his feet in an instant. Impatient, he struggles for a moment to loosen his belt, has half a mind to just tear his pants in two when—

“Jeon Jungkook, can you hear me?”

Jungkook stiffens. Unable to hear the voice coming from his earpiece, you give Jungkook a quizzical look, wondering why he’d suddenly stopped in his tracks. “Koo? What’s the matter?” you ask, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Jeon Jungkook, answer me,” Seokjin’s voice is slightly garbled by static, but the authority in his tone is unmistakable.

Jungkook swallows thickly. He lifts the small microphone attached to his lapel, bringing it closer to his lips. “H-hyung?” he stutters. Your eyes widen, realization and panic seizing you.

You both share a frantic look. Fuck!

Seokjin chuckles darkly. “Took you long enough. Did you and our little mistress have fun?”

“W-well, we—” Jungkook stammers, looking to you for help. You shrug your shoulders, equally as tongue-tied. He returns to his mic, “We were just, umm…”

“Open the door,” is all Seokjin utters before Jungkook’s earpiece goes dead. Jungkook rips the small piece of plastic from his ear, both of you turning to the door when a loud knock reverberates across the restroom.

“It’s…” Jungkook cuts off, but he doesn’t need to say anything for you to know exactly who is waiting outside the door.

“Open the door,” Seokjin repeats, but there’s a certain quality to his voice that makes both you and Jungkook immediately want to follow his command. Without another word, Jungkook stands up stiffly, his feet dragging as he unlocks the door to allow him inside.

“No fair,” you complain. You pout, crossing your arms. “You used your siren voice on us!”

“I wouldn’t have needed to use it if you two weren’t acting like a pair of brats,” Seokjin says, sickly sweet. He’s smiling, but there is darkness lingering in his expression. It doesn’t help that your lower body is still exposed, free for his gaze to roam. “Do you have any idea how much trouble the two of you are in?”

“I’m sure my father is hardly concerned,” you scoff, filled with false bravado. You smirk when his eyebrows furrow, keen to tempt his anger. After all, Seokjin is the most fun to play with when he lets go. “Besides, I pay you to look out for me, don’t I? I’d expect you to come up with an excuse on our behalf.”

“I suppose so,” Seokjin hums. He glances at Jungkook, whose prior arousal has yet to subside. In a flash, Seokjin has Jungkook backed up to a toilet cabinet, roughly grabbing his bulge. Jungkook wheezes, his eyes flashing open in surprise.

“And you?” Seokjin asks, using his free hand to force Jungkook to face him. “You understand that you left your post, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Jungkook gasps out. Seokjin’s grip tightens, and Jungkook releases a soft moan.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes hyung,” Jungkook emphasizes, his hips unconsciously rutting upwards. Seokjin situates his thigh in between Jungkook’s legs, letting the younger boy rock against it for a few moments before pulling back just as quickly. Jungkook whines pathetically, jaw agape.

“You both lost the game. What makes you think you deserve anything?” Seokjin asks. He directs his question to you, glancing over his shoulder. “Well? Did I interrupt something I wasn’t supposed to see?”

When you don’t reply, Seokjin frowns. “Answer me, Y/N.”

His voice is musical, and it pulls the answer out of you, unable to resist. “Yes,” you say, through gritted teeth.

“What were you going to do?”

“He was going to fuck me,” you say. You smirk when his shoulders tense. “We were going to fuck without you.”

At your admission, Seokjin considers you with an unreadable expression. The tension in the air is tangible. Jungkook has his eyes averted, but judging from the way his cock twitches in his trousers, you know he’s also aware of what’s going to happen. All you need to do is wait a little, and then Seokjin will—

He steps away from Jungkook and walks towards the chaise lounge situated near the wall of the entrance. He sits on it primly, his back straightened as though he were about to call you in for tea. “Go on then,” he says, flapping his hands flippantly. When neither of you moves, he quirks an eyebrow in amusement. “What? Don’t let me ruin your fun. Continue where you left off.”

“Um…” you say, thoroughly at a loss. This is usually the point where Seokjin decides to punish either of you, or perhaps drag the two of you back home for more adequate disciplinary action. Instead, he seems content to allow the two of you to do as you please. He has a mask of indifference on, and it’s always been a little hard for you to figure out what he was really thinking.

“But…” Jungkook gulps. “W-we wanted you to, um…”

“What? To join you? Oh please,” Seokjin laughs, a little cruelly. “No, I’d rather not stop your fun. Carry on.”

“But—”

“Carry. On.” Seokjin commands, his power trickling onto his words. At once, Jungkook straightens up, his feet carrying him towards you and spreading your legs apart. You gasp, the sudden movement surprising you.

“Seokjin, what are you..?”

“Fuck her, Jungkook,” Seokjin interrupts, ignoring your baffled stutters. “Fuck her until she can’t even stand.”

Jungkook shoves down his pants and underwear in one swift motion, kicking them off his ankles somewhere behind him. He situates his cock against you, rubbing the tip against your slit for a second before thrusting forward and splitting you open.

You both scream and moan at the sensation, your warm walls clamped around him deliciously. He begins his brutal pace immediately, both due to his desperation to meet his orgasm and also the magic imbued in the simple command given by Seokjin.

The intoxicating roll of his hips has your eyes seeing stars as he pulls out nearly all the way before pushing back in. He angles himself until he hits your sweet spot with every thrust, ripping ragged whimpers from your throat. Your second orgasm is quickly building before you know it, your body tightening up as he continues to rut into you.

With a trembling moan, you gush around him, coating his cock with your arousal. Your legs are still shaking even after you finish, your entire body going limp from the exertion. Jungkook slows down, still painfully hard inside of you.

“Did I tell you to stop? Keep going,” Seokjin utters quietly. He is the picture of calmness, his hands folded delicately onto his lap.

“What?” you exclaim. “I can’t, no, it’s too much—”

But when it comes to Seokjin, his word is the law. Between the two of you, Jungkook has always been more susceptible to his voice, completely powerless under Seokjin’s influence. And so, Jungkook resumes fucking into you, mindlessly obedient.

“I’m too—Jungkook, stop, I’m sensitive,” you cry out, but your pleas go unheard as he reaches between the two of you, his thumb grazing your clit and causing your entire body to jolt forward. Your walls squeeze around his cock in response and Jungkook trembles in pleasure. His ministrations on your clit, in tandem with the swiveling of his hips, are almost vicious, the sting both pleasurable and painful.

You can feel the beginnings of tears forming, the assault on your senses almost too unbearable to handle. “S-Seokjin, please! Make him stop!”

Jungkook is nearing his climax, his rhythm growing erratic and showing no signs of slowing down. He is unable to hear you past his desire, completely entranced and hypnotized.

“You want him to stop? Fine,” Seokjin says, amused. “Jungkook, stop.”

“No, please!” Jungkook lets out a tortured wail. His body freezes in place, his cock still twitching inside of you. The poor boy lets out a few stray tears, his eyes squeezed shut as his body refuses to do his bidding. He sobs, his voice cracking as he pleads, “Hyung, I was so close!”

“Not my problem,” Seokjin giggles. He gets up from his perch on the sofa, leisurely walking towards the both of you as he surveys the frozen boy with a satisfied grin. “That ought to teach you a lesson,” he says, patting Jungkook on the back.

“And you,” he says, facing you, “aren’t getting away so easily.”

You gulp, a shudder running down your spine. “B-but, the party..?”

Snorting incredulously, Seokjin taps his microphone on. “Namjoon-ssi? Yes, I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly. I found Miss Y/N. It seems that she is having stomach problems, so I’ll be escorting her home. Please inform Master Min about her early departure,” he says in one breath, shutting his earpiece off before the other man can reply.

“It seems like everything is already taken care of,” Seokjin says angelically, even though he is anything but. He bends down to pick up Jungkook’s discarded pants, handing them to the younger. He also finds your forgotten vibrator under one of the sinks, picking it up and placing it neatly into his pocket.

He smiles. “Get dressed, both of you. The night is still young, after all.”

[citydreamgrls]

yes, captain

fred weasley x fem!reader

words: 2,675

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on ‘a christmas treat’ it’s been crazy how many of you enjoyed it <333

warnings: smut , 18+ 

“What do you mean he’s sick?” The twins cried out in unison. I had heard voices before I’d reached the common room, but seeing them shocked wasn’t what I had been expecting. In fact it was a rarity to see them surprised at all.

“What’s up?” I asked them both, just as Lee was leaving. George had his head in his hands and Fred’s lip was blatantly chewed up.

“Wood’s sick, he’s off for 2 weeks.” He explained.

“Oh shit, that’s not good. So does that mean you two ar-”

“Co-captains.” They groaned in unison, used to having people follow them but not usually having to be in charge of anyone.

I put my arms around Fred, who was still in his quidditch uniform from practice, and gave him a much needed hug.

“You guys will be great, I’m sure of it.” I promised the twins, letting them clean up before dinner.

-

“So… how does it feel to have a boyfriend who’s the quidditch captain.” Hermione teased me, finding this to be more interesting than her book of all things.

“Fred’s co-captain, remember, and besides they only found out today.”

Harry came and sat in front of us with Ron as his side, who was more bothered by his food than his older brothers.

“I think they’ll be great captains,” Harry said, excited to have the troublemakers taking charge.

“Well of course you’d say that,” Hermione scoffed, opening her book again.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Ron looked up, clearing his throat as though to speak but the girl beside me cut him off before he had the chance.

“Harry’s the team’s seeker, he just has to do his job. That’s easy. It’s the chasers that cause trouble, they’re always squabbling over who goes where and how many goals each of them scores.”

“Yeah, what Hermione said.” Ron rolled his eyes and carried on eating.

“Guess we’ll see tomorrow afternoon eh?” Harry sighed.

“Do you think you guys will be ready for the match against Ravenclaw?” I asked.

“Hard to tell, we’ve got some time… but we’re out of a keeper now Wood’s off sick.” He huffed.

Just on cue both Fred and George turned up, looking as confident as ever as people congratulated them on their temporary promotion. Fred sat down beside me, giving me a kiss quickly before any of the others could complain.

“Ron, we need you to be our keeper.” George told his younger brother without hesitating.

Poor boy almost choked on a mouthful of potato when he realised what the twin had told him. Harry had to slap his back to get him to look alive again, making Hermione giggle from behind her book.

“Me!”

“Yes you, come to practice tomorrow and we’ll see if you’re any good.” Fred added, giving my hand a squeeze under the table.

-

“So I guess this means you’ll be too busy with captain duties,” I teased Fred as he tried to write an essay on the common room sofa.

“Oh yes, too busy for girlfriends. Especially when I have so many.”

I rolled my eyes and mindlessly played with his long hair.

“You don’t have the energy for too many girlfriends, me and George are enough for you.”

“You’re not wrong.”

He closed his potions book with a sigh and threw it to his feet, finally able to relax a little bit and lay with his head in my lap.

“Are you nervous Fred?”

“About what?”

“About being captain silly, you do have a practice tomorrow remember?”

“Oh no it slipped my mind, because I really have so much more going on right now.” He huffed sarcastically.

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” I laughed and he nodded sheepishly. “It’ll be fine, I said I’d help Ginny with some homework tomorrow though so I can’t come and watch.”

“That’s actually a bit of a relief, I’d hate to embarrass myself in front of you.” Fred sighed.

“You’re the most confident person I know, not to mention the goofiest. When have you ever been worried about embarrassing yourself?” I pointed out, and he couldn’t help but agree.

-

The next day, after practice, the team filed into the common room kinda quietly. Making both Hermione and I frown at their sudden gloomy nature.

Fred and George were last and stopped at the two of us leaning up at them on the sofa.

“How was it?” I asked, still hopeful.

“Pretty bad,” George grunted before kicking off his boots and flopping into an armchair.

“Two of the chasers got into a fight and targeted each other any time we tried to play, it was useless!” Fred exclaimed as I played with his quidditch robes.

“Told you so.” Hermione hissed, but I just ignored her.

“They’re bound to be a bit unruly, it’s probably because they’re used to Wood.” I tried to reason with them, but neither twin seemed convinced by my theory. “It’ll get better.” I whispered to Fred.

-

It could’ve been possible that I cursed it, because things seemed to spiral from then on. Ron had doubts about being a keeper, Harry was always turning up to practices late and leaving early. The chasers refused to talk to one another, and things just took a turn for the worse when the twins started to argue over how to fix things.

It was 3 days before the match and the team was more divided than ever before. Making Fred feel responsible for the downfall.

“It was two weeks, that was it. And I couldn’t even control things for one day!” He complained aloud as I sat on his bed, hoping he would chill out a bit. I opened my arms, letting him crawl into them as if he was a child.

“I’m helpless y/n.” He huffed.

“No you’re not.” George walked in, saw his brother and immediately went to walk back out. They had been avoiding each other ever since their argument, and it was time for things to go back to normal.

“Oi stop right there.” Both boys froze as I spoke, I moved Fred off me and stood up. Not that it was intimidating to either of them, but it was worth a try. “You two need to forget whatever you were mad about and forgive each other, because nothing’s gonna go right if neither of you can agree.” I stated, their heads hung in the realisation that what I was saying was right.

“If we did things my way we could actually win.” Fred grumbled from his bed.

“I don’t care,” George seemed caught off guard that I wouldn’t immediately take my boyfriend’s side. “If you did win, it wouldn’t feel as good than if you did it together.”

“She’s right.” The boy by the door finally spoke up, holding a hand out to his brother. Fred shook it with an awkward smile. “Sorry Georgie.”

“Now. let’s figure out what to do with this team.” I sighed.

-

After a whole night of negotiating, Fred and George settled on a game plan and went to the last practice with hope in their hearts. Hermione  and y/n watched them fly about from the stands, unable to hear the boys talk, but unable to spot any problems as they played through the upcoming match.

Once it was over Fred came straight over to y/n. He was grinning wider than she’d seen all month.

“Better?” She laughed.

“So much better.”

-

“I like seeing you happy,” The girl told her boyfriend later that night, promising not to keep him up too late. They needed to be awake early of course. Her and Fred were standing at the top of the astronomy tower looking over the grounds as the sun went down.

“Thank you for helping us,” He whispered. He loomed behind her and rested his arms on the balcony in front of her, caging her in.

“Yeah well you owe me, big time.”

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll get a reward.” He smirked, making a chill run down her spine.

They’d had sex before, plenty of times, and many after winning games. But something more rested on this game, if he won there would be an even bigger feeling of achievement for the boy. Who was usually quite happy to take sidelines as one of the two beaters in the team. Now, he was a captain and it would look good if he won.

“Stay with me tonight?” He asked y/n.

“I shouldn’t distract you, rest is the only thing you need Fred.”

“It’s not what I want though,” She felt his body press up against her and she wondered whether getting fucked by him up there would be all that bad. However, she decided to wait, knowing it would be even better after they won.

“Fred. I’ll see you in the morning okay?” y/n smiled and slipped out from under his trap, giving his cheek a kiss and running off.

“Oi, that’s not a proper goodnight. Come back here!” He called out with laughter, a chase beginning on the twisting steps back down to the castle.

-

Hermione always claimed she couldn’t care less about quidditch, but as soon as she saw Ron as Gryffindor’s keeper she suddenly became yet another teenage girl screaming his name in support. Y/n laughed, seeing her friend switch up so quickly.

Then again, her voice always went hoarse after cheering on Fred and George so violently it sometimes felt like she’d never talk again. But she would never do it differently. Seeing the twins in their captain’s robes made her heart swell with pride, especially when Fred flew past their stand to give her a wink like he did before every game. It was practically tradition by this point.

“Go Fred!!!!” She screamed as he swung his bat around, sending bludgers flying through the air and towards Ravenclaw’s chasers. One of them almost fell to the ground trying to dodge it, and in turn losing possession of the quaffle to the Gryffindor chasers who had finally learnt to work together. They flew in formation, passing the ball between one another to throw off the other team. Then as one of them went to score, the other two held off opposing beaters so they could score.

To Hermione’s joy; Ron was amazing. He barely let a single goal in, kicking them off and thwacking them away with his broom. After a while he began to show off, but no one minded because he still managed to defend the goal.

Fred and George were working their asses off trying to hit off bludgers, not stopping for a single second to notice what else was going on. Y/n could watch her boyfriend work like that all day, his face laced with determination and joy whenever he hit one off successfully. Even more so whenever they scored another goal. Ravenclaw had never had a chance against them.

The match ended as always, with Harry just about catching the snitch before the other team’s seeker got there. He flew down to find the team hugging one another in joy, the rest of Gryffindor house racing from the stands to join the celebration. It wasn’t long before Fred and George were carried back to the common room, their names being chanted like gods.

Y/n caught a flash of her boyfriend’s red hair disappearing into the crowd as her and Hermione followed the flow of people into the castle.

-

“There you are!” Fred had called, finally finding y/n amongst the people partying later that night. “Thought you’d sacked me off.”

“As if, you’re the winning captain now I’m basically a celebrity by default!” She joked, taking the drink from his hand and sipping it hesitantly.

“Oi, what was that for?” He complained.

“I don’t trust my own drinks round you and George.”

“You’ve learnt then,”

“Yep, the hard way.” He smirked at my words and pulled me aside to talk quietly.

“Speaking of hard things, I’m on an absolute power high and really need you.” He said, never one to beat around the bush, well they’d done it once in a bush.

“Give me 10 minutes,” she told him.

“I’ll be waiting in the secret hallway, near potions?” y/n nodded and Fred disappeared off to wait for her, hoping no one would stop him on his way there.

Y/n went up to her dorm room, quickly knocking back a few shots before fixing her makeup and making her hair look less flat. Hermione saw her sneak through the common room and sent her a wink, making the girl blush as she slipped out into the main castle.

It was a Saturday night, and everyone would be gathered in their common rooms by now if there wasn’t already a party going on, so the castle was quiet as she walked through it. Footsteps sounded from somewhere in front of her. The girl slipped inside the transfiguration class, keeping the door just ajar to see filch walk past. Seconds past before she ran back out and straight to the secret passageway her and Fred had discovered a few months prior.

“Fred?” She called out quietly, not able to see him yet. He came out of the shadows with a smirk on his face and rested on the cold stone wall.

“Hello beautiful.” He said, as she took no time to jump on him. Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, immediately enthralled in his kiss and the slight taste of licorice that seemed to constantly linger on his tongue.

“It’s been so- so hard not to just come f-fuck you right away,” She moaned admittedly between breaths, struggling to speak over the sheer lust coursing through her body.

Fred’s hands played across her neck, rough as always from the cold air, and travelled across her body. He didn’t dare waste time taking off clothes, and grabbed her waist to push her away. She gasped at the sudden lack of touch, but obeyed his every move as the boy laid himself down on the cold steps. Y/n knew what to do. Fred pulled out his cock as she took off her panties from beneath her skirt. She straddled his lap, letting him slip inside her.

In that moment, as their heads were involuntarily thrown back, both groaned out with immense pleasure. Y/n knew how cocky Fred would get after a quidditch win, this position being their own kind of celebration. But there was something different about the boy this time.

He was pounding harder, and deeper, and encouraging the girl’s sweet moans every time one slipped from between her beautiful lips. She could feel his grip, tighter than ever, leaving little finger sized bruises on her hips as she rocked back and forth.

The sheer size of his cock inside her made y/n tense up, Fred having no choice but to speed up.

She screamed, suddenly very appreciative of the passageways seclusion, her chest heaving as the girl had to take a second to adjust to the growing desire in the pit of her stomach.

“You’re close aren’t you?” Fred laughed, revelling in how good he was making her feel. Y/n could only nod in response, her lip tight in her teeth. The boy laughed again, but she could never feel nervous around him.

A hand came up to her neck, she felt it first before she saw it. He clenched the sides with his long fingers as y/n gasped out. He watched her moan lightly, almost begging incoherently as he got her closer and closer.

One last push with his hand made the girl scream, her pussy tighter than he’d ever felt it before. The boy struggled to hold back much longer, pushing her off so he could cum.

“Fuck,” Fred groaned.

“Please, promise me one thing.” Y/n asked, making her boyfriend frown.

“What?”

“Never let anyone else be captain again,” She gasped, still worn out from how ruthless he’d been with her.

[tennessoui]

Hi miss Kit! So um, I'm not the anon who had the idea about the Pokemon obikin AU but I saw that you're still looking for a prompt so I did some brainstorming?

Obviously Anakin is aiming to be a Pokemon Master which is why he'll have to fight the elite four eventually. Which is not an easy task despite what the games might imply! So what if, despite breezing through the gyms before, beating Team Rocket and having a team that is powerful and adores him, he still fails his first attempt at the league.

I remember Prof Oak telling your rival after you beat him in gen 1 that he lost to you because he doesn't love his Pokemon enough which is bullsh*t!! But must surely be a cutting remark.

So ofc he goes to caretaker!Obi-Wan afterwards because he is a former Pokemon trainer so how has he dealt with loss before? Does Anakin really not love his team enough? Bonus points if Obi has challenged the league before (and won??)

I just realized that this is way too angsty for the Pokemon universe >.< everything is nice and soft here

alright!!!!!! finally!!! here is that pokémon au, a bastardization of this prompt and @sinhalbutnoangst 's prompt "24: Right before a passionate/first kiss & 16: “There’s nothing to be scared of, okay? I’m right here.” For a Pokémon AU !!!"

I hope y'all both enjoy or at least find parts to be happy about!!!

(fair warning i don't know a lot about pokémon so who knows how accurate this is at ALL)

(3.3k)

(i've linked each pokémon name with their pokedex picture just so everyone knows what they look like. no need to read the descriptions or anything)(god knows i didn't half the time)

Obi-Wan is in the water, tending to a shy gyarados a trainer had left behind as a Magikarp a few months ago, when on the shore his flareon raises its muzzle and barks loudly. That’s her signal that someone’s arrived at the Daycare center proper. Obi-Wan furrows his eyebrows, as he strokes his hand down the gyarados' side.

“I always tell them to call ahead,” he mutters as the pokemon nudges closer for more attention. “Why do they never call ahead?”

Gyarados knocks him hard in the arm. It’s clear she wants more pats, but business calls.

“Would you mind terribly taking me back to shore, dear?” Obi-Wan asks politely. It’d be faster than swimming all the way there, and it would strengthen the Pokémon's connection with humans.

On the shore, Flareon bounds around in a circle, tail flickering back and forth. It must be someone she recognizes the scent of. A regular then. That means Obi-Wan can take his time getting back to the counter to greet them, but he probably shouldn’t show up dripping wet in only a pair of swim trunks.

Luckily, Gyarados gives him a lift, bellowing mournfully to be left alone again when Obi-Wan alights onto the sand. When her trainer comes back to pick it up, Obi-Wan has half a mind to offer to buy her from them. No one who actually cares about their pokemon would leave a magikarp to become a gyarados under the care and instruction of someone else.

But becoming known as the Daycare Runner who gets attached to Pokémon and tries to keep them is perhaps a serious threat to his business as a whole. And he’s already done that too many times.

No, the best thing to do is to wait for the trainer to come back and sit them down to give them a serious talk about their Pokémon’s emotional needs. They’re probably young. Most trainers are these days. On some level you have to be in order to have the energy to travel as much as you do, to sleep on the ground more nights than not.

Yes, they’re probably young, and more focused on gym battles than their Pokémons’ growth and happiness. It happens sometimes with tunnel vision like that. Too many advertisements for the Pokémon League, the Elite Four, the Gym badges. Obi-Wan had been the same way when he was a kid.

He gathers his clothes from the shoreline and slips on his shoes. Flareon tries to help dry him out by wrapping herself repeatedly around his ankles and cooing out gusts of warm air, but all it does is create a new and unusual tripping hazard.

Especially when she suddenly perks up, about halfway to the building and jumps forward into a run. Obi-Wan stares after her, confused, clothes held in a slackened grip until he sees a very familiar growlithe running fult tilt from around the building. It hops the fence with practiced ease that makes Obi-Wan inwardly despair at the lesson it’s unwittingly teaching all of the other Pokémon.

But he can’t deny the way his heart thuds when he realizes what its presence means. His flareon, embarrassingly enough, seems to be thinking along the same lines, as she bounds up to the growlithe and starts winding between his legs instead, rubbing her head over every part of black and orange fur she can reach.

Obi-Wan sighs and shucks on his buttoned shirt, shaking out the water from his hair. He doesn’t even really bother with pants, seeing as his wet swim trunks go almost to his knees.

It’s Anakin. Anakin’s here. Anakin hasn’t been here for four months when he left in the midst of a shouting match. Obi-Wan has been trying--unsuccessfully--to put Anakin out of his mind. And now Anakin’s growlithe is prancing towards him like it’s a special present to see him at all.

“Yes, hello there,” Obi-Wan murmurs, pausing in buttoning up his shirt so he can pet at the growlithe’s--what does Anakin call him again?--muzzle. For a second, the Pokémon nuzzles back, scenting his face and neck as territorial Pokémon are wont to do, before it moves quickly forward and grabs Obi-Wan by the shirt, swinging him up onto its back.

Out of shock and a latent survival instinct, Obi-Wan drops the rest of his clothes and clings to the Pokémon’s back. “Shit!” is on the tip of his tongue the entire two minutes it takes to bound back to the fence, over it and through the welcome doors of his own Daycare.

Anakin is standing, back to the entrance, furiously tapping the bell on the desk, looking somehow both desperate and bored.

Growlithe barks once, twice, and shakes himself hard enough that Obi-Wan knows to let go before he gets rolled over upon.

It’s not the most graceful entrance he would have chosen after going months without seeing Anakin, to land on his back, partially dressed and smelling like the sea at the Pokémon trainer’s feet.

Anakin at least has the wherewithal to be both surprised and immediately worried. “Obi-Wan!” he yelps, turning around immediately upon his growlithe’s bark of victory.

“Yes, hello there,” Obi-Wan says dryly sitting up from his sprawl and combing a nervous hand through his hair.

“Where are your clothes?” Anakin asks shrilly, turning a very interesting shade of magenta and looking quickly away from Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan couldn’t be more different, what with the way he looks at Anakin as if he’s starved for the sight of him. It’s been several long months since they last saw each other. The fight had been...awful, to say the least. Anakin had accused him of not really wanting him to succeed. Obi-Wan had accused him of the same tunnel vision he diagnoses most young adults to have.

Neither had been true. Obi-Wan hadn’t even meant it, but he’d been mad. He’d been mad that Anakin hadn’t even thought to listen to him more than a Gym Leader he’d just defeated.

Palpatine had urged him to go straight to the League. Obi-Wan had thought it prudent to return home to his mother, give his Pokémon a break, work his way to the island of the Pokémon League naturally as a means of bonding with and further testing his Pokémon. He has no idea who Anakin ended up listening to. It’s been something that has haunted him for weeks.

“Out in the back,” Obi-Wan grunts, standing and trying to pick up the shattered pieces of his dignity under the Pokémon trainer’s wide-eyed stare. Anakin’s grown older in the past few months, his face sharper. What is he now, newly twenty-three? Halfway to twenty-four? “Your Growlithe was quite enthusiastic to bring me here as soon as possible.”

Anakin flushes and looks down at his feet. He looks tired, Obi-Wan decides. Like he’s walked the entire continent just to show up at his door.

“Sorry,” Anakin says sheepishly. “I had--”

“Him out and walking with you, I know,” Obi-Wan finishes with a fond shake of his head. He buttons the last necessary button on his shirt and sweeps past Anakin to stand behind his desk. “You always liked having one of them out with you. How’s your Jolteon?”

“Twilight?” Anakin asks, sounding surprised Obi-Wan even remembered he had a jolteon. He tries not to feel offended. It’s an unfortunate truth that Obi-Wan remembers almost everything about Anakin, the trainer that used to hang around his daycare as though he couldn’t bear to step more than fifty paces from his front door. “He’s fine. A bit angry with me, I think.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan asks, furrowing his brow as he looks up at his guest. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Anakin is quiet for a few seconds, and his hands clench down on the edge of the counter-top. When he speaks, his voice wavers. “Obi-Wan...do you think my Pokémon love me? Like, do you think I am a good trainer?”

Obi-Wan stares at him. This isn’t a conversation he should have without pants on, he decides. He slowly puts his pen down. “What happened, Anakin?” he asks gently, reaching out and laying a hand on the arm Anakin still has resting against the counter.

“I lost,” his favorite trainer whispers, looking down. Growlithe--Resolute, that’s what Anakin had named him--noses into the nape of his neck. Obi-Wan is not jealous. “I challenged the Elite Four, and I lost in the second round.”

Obi-Wan’s hand tightens completely involuntarily. He hates hearing that after their years-long friendship, the last few years where he’d thought perhaps they were on the verge of being something more, despite his reservations, Anakin had listened to Palpatine over him. Palpatine.

“Come around back here,” he instructs after a second’s thought. Somehow, still, after all these months, he thinks he knows what Anakin needs. “And release all of your Pokémon from their Pokéballs.”

“All of them?” Anakin asks, sounding so unsure Obi-Wan’s heart aches with the doubt of it all before he reigns that in. This isn’t about him.

This isn’t about him, but he can’t stop himself from asking, just once, “Yes. Do you trust me?”

Anakin’s fingers hesitate on the seal of his first Pokéball, and Obi-Wan’s heart jumps into his throat. “Yeah,” Anakin finally says gruffly, pressing the release. “Yeah, I do.”

His altaria pops out of her Pokéball with a trill and a flap of her cloud-shaped wings. He just catches a hint of the jolteon materialize into existence before he turns his back. “I’m going to put on proper clothes,” he tells Anakin over his shoulder. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I’m sure your Pokémon will remember half the ones here.”

And all of the ones Obi-Wan calls his own, he doesn’t add. Anakin should know. Anakin’s known them since he was fifteen years old and surly over the fact that his mother wouldn’t let him go out and hunt legendary Pokémon until he finished schooling.

He finds his abandoned clothes quickly, and shuffles into them. Flareon noses around him curiously, with more than a bit of excitement. She probably smells Anakin on him. The thought doesn’t warm his cheeks, but if it does, he’ll blame it on the sudden amount of heat she’s giving off.

He leaves his shirt as is and doesn’t even bother with the vest or tie. He’s not here to be Professor Kenobi. He’s here to be Obi-Wan, Anakin’s friend. That’s what Anakin needs from him right now. A friend.

He fixes his hair anyway in a mad bout of nerves, but no one, not even his mienshao or flareon, obsessed with appearances as they are, are paying enough attention to him in order to soothe his sudden insecurities.

More than anything, he wants to be back in the sea, surrounded by the gyarados’ coils. He doesn’t understand humans as much as he would like to, and he certainly doesn’t understand Anakin. Not anymore. Perhaps he never did.

His flareon bumps at his wrist with the crown of her head and he looks down with a sigh. “Someone’s excited, I see,” he murmurs wryly, smoothing down the stuck-up fur of her hair and chest mane. She purrs. “Not the most excited though,” he adds with a huff as he sees a blur of white and blue from the corner of his eyes as the female Meowstic who spends most of her time strolling the parameter of the Daycare abandons her position to dart towards the backdoors where a newly emerged navy male Meowstic stands waiting.

They collide and curl into each other, two halves of one whole brought back together.

Well, that’s as good as any sign to approach Anakin, who has decided to collapse on the soft grass of the enclosure. Other than the Meowstic, his freed Pokémon have curled around him. The jolteon, Artoo, rests by his head, while his charizard, Mustafar, brackets the length of his body with his own. The growlithe sits watchful at his feet, while a new, unfamiliar pancham curls up on his chest. Finally, his gallade sits cross-legged to his side.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan drawls before he can help himself, “It’s very obvious that your Pokémon don’t love you.”

Anakin bolts upright at the sound of his voice. The pancham growls at him, a baby noise that Obi-Wan didn’t necessarily think the species capable of.

The Pokémon trainer hushes it quickly with a stern, “Vader, no.”

Obi-Wan comes to sit cross-legged in front of the man. “You didn’t have a pancham last time,” he says easily. What he really wants to ask is much more complicated. He wants to know everything. He wants to know how Anakin changed. When. Why. He wants to know what’s still the same.

It’s always complicated when it comes to Anakin. It’s never been easy.

“He was injured when I found him,” Anakin admits, stroking the top of Vader’s head. “But a fighter. I think I was injured when I found him too.”

The man seems so lost in his own recollections that Obi-Wan hates to interrupt. Carefully, Anakin’s jolteon, Twilight, noses his hand. When he’s not pushed away, he jumps into Obi-Wan’s lap with a trill. Flareon lets out a hiss, but acquiesces when the jolteon licks at her snout, accepting her ownership of Obi-Wan.

“I had just lost,” Anakin says slowly. “I wanted to come back here, rent a Lapras and just ride until I saw the shoreline I knew was yours. But I didn’t know what you’d say to me. How mad you’d still be.”

Obi-Wan bites his lip. He wouldn’t have been mad. He’d been worried, from the second Anakin left his property. But how to tell the man that? Would the other even want to hear it? Would he think Obi-Wan was trying to infantilize him, to protect him?

“I didn’t want you to be right.” Anakin whispers, arms tightening around the Pokémon. “I didn’t want you to be right and say that I wasn’t ready. And then I was in the forest, walking home, and I found this guy. He’d been attacked by a bug pokémon who was probably a higher level. But he was so angry still. I...I wanted him on my team. I needed that fire back.”

Obi-Wan suddenly thinks that there’s much more distance between them than there should be. He wants to be hugging Anakin, to be kissing his temple. These were allowances they had given each other before the fight, things that Obi-Wan had squirreled away, close to his heart.

He wants them back.

“But I keep thinking about how the professor who gave me my first Pokémon told this guy I beat in my first battle that he lost because he didn’t love his Pokémon right, and I...I’m just worried that’s why I lost.” Anakin stares down at his pancham, who puts his paws on his cheeks and pats a few times.

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighs. He thinks it sounds too fond, too revealing, but Anakin looks up at him with wide, frightened eyes. “I’ve never known a trainer to love his Pokémon more, dear one.”

“Then why?” Anakin asks plaintively, scooting forward until their knees brush. “Why did I lose? The gym leader of Cinnabar Island told me I would win!”

Obi-Wan, quite maturely in his opinion, doesn’t mention the fact that the recently defeated Palpatine probably had ulterior motives for Anakin to challenge the league too quickly and then fail. “You weren’t ready, Anakin,” he says instead, placing his hand on the other’s knee and holding it even when the trainer jerks out of his grp. “Please, listen. It's about sheer time, training experience. It’s not about you or your relationship to your Pokémon. You have such an amazing, strong relationship with them! They love you. Anyone could tell. And you’re not lacking in skill either. I know your mind is sharp and ready for battle.”

Anakin looks at him teary-eyed. “I’ve been so worried that maybe they didn’t know I loved them,” he admits in a wavering voice.

Obi-Wan can’t resist moving impossibly closer to his trainer. “Oh, Anakin, of course they do. Pokémon don’t always express or interpret love the same way humans do, but they do have their own ways of showing it.”

“Like what?” Anakin sniffles, wiping at his wet eyes. If Obi-Wan had really been listening, he would have noticed the change in his tone. As it is, he continues immediately, too focused on trying to stop his trainer from crying to think of anything else.

“A fire-type Pokémon wil try to warm you if they think you’re cold, even if it means staying up all night to keep you in in its flame. And fighting-type Pokémon are capable of throwing a blanket over you if they think you need to rest. Psychic-types have been known to read their trainer’s emotions and either hug them or give them distance whenever they want. Ground- and bug-type have been known to bring berries to their trainers to get them something to eat, and electric--why are you looking at me like that?” Anakin’s nascent smirk grows bigger at this interruption and he cocks his head to the side as he studies Obi-Wan’s face. “And what does it say about a man who spends all of his time around Pokémon, that he would do those exact same things for me?”

Obi-Wan at least understands enough to scurry backwards a few paces, much to the jolteon in his lap’s distress, who jumps away with a huff.

“I’m not sure I understand,” he says quickly.

Anakin inches forward, setting the pancham, Vader, aside. He really has grown in the past few months. The loss of the League, the months apparently spent on the road, have aged him so that he’s both recognizable and something new and wild. “What if I knew of a man,” Anakin murmurs, falling to his palms as he closes the gap between them. “One who warmed me when I was cold, covered me when I was tired, hugged me when I was needy, and fed me when I was hungry? What would that mean, in terms of Pokémon?”

Obi-Wan swallows nervously. His entire body is bracketed by Anakin. Anakin, who seems to have discovered his most-guarded secret in their months apart. Anakin, who is hovering over him now with a dark look in his eyes. Finally something in Obi-Wan gives way. This is it. He will give Anakin everything he asks for. Everything he needs. He’s always tried to do this exact thing.

“I suppose that would mean he loved you,” he whispers, closing his eyes so he does not have to see Anakin’s recoil, Anakin’s disgust.

Anakin hums instead. “Obi-Wan,” he whispers, exhale hitting his lips. “Obi-Wan, open your eyes. There’s nothing to be scared of, beloved. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

At these words, Obi-Wan’s eyes jump open of their own accord. Anakin’s lips press down onto his in a movement just as sudden. He whimpers involuntarily and reaches up to clutch at the trainer’s hair, hold him to his mouth. Just as involuntarily, his lips part and Anakin’s tongue licks around the gap before darting inside. He moans. It’s shameful, the way he goes from scared to sucking on Anakin’s tongue as if he’ll die without the warm intrusion of it.

It hardly feels like the first time they’ve kissed. It feels like they’ve been kissing for years, like Anakin knows his mouth completely and utterly.

There are so many secrets left between them. Obi-Wan’s one unopened Pokéball, sitting on his belt. Anakin’s relationship with that last Gym leader. What he’s been doing these past few months. What Obi-Wan Kenobi made his fortune off of.

But none of it matters now. Not here at this moment. All that matters is showing Anakin that he’s been just as missed, just as wanted.

With that in mind, Obi-Wan rolls on top of his trainer and shoves his hands up inside Anakin’s shirt to trace along the muscles of his chest and back. This was his. His, his, his. He had come back to him. Everything else could wait.

[holdingforgeneralhugs]

Bitter Pill to Swallow

Chapter 5 (Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1)

Thank you as always to @tvserie-s-world for the lovely screencaps 💕

It had been five days since they'd set sail for England, and safe to say tensions were starting to fray. Valerie was lucky to be bunking with Harry, but even they'd had a few disagreements.

"If you don't quit your snoring I'm gonna strap you to the bow to scare off the sharks," he'd sworn one early morning, tying his shirt buttons roughly.

"My snoring?" Valerie replied incredulously, "I'm surprised you can hear me snoring over the droning of your own."

She was playing a game of fish with George when the fight of the day broke out. She'd been laughing at his master plan to snag an English dame when they'd overheard Bill Guarnere talking shit. Valerie looked up in alarm when she noticed Lieb jumping down from his bunk and getting up in Bill's face. She sighed and jumped down herself, intending to step in between them and prevent any fists from flying.

"Hey, hey," she shouted, pulling Lieb back behind her "break it up you two, and watch your damm mouth Gonnorhea. Quit talking shit about Jews, you know where we're going and who we're fighting so why don't you show some goddamn respect. " She put a hand on Lieb's shoulder to steer him back towards his bunk. "Don't listen to him Lieb, he's just being an idiot."

As they moved away they heard Bill grumbling something about 'goddamn woman must be on the rag," and Valerie saw red. She dropped her hand from Lieb's shoulder and marched back towards Bill.

"You wanna say that again to my face Guarnere?" snapped Valerie, "who do you think you are saying things like that about a ranking officer?"

Don was desperately trying to pull Bill away, warning him to cut it out before he gets himself in more trouble. A hush settled in the immediate area surrounding them, everyone afraid to intervene but too nosy to look away.

"I said what I said," Bill snarled, pulling his arm out of Don's and clenching his jaw. Valerie narrowed her eyes at him and glared coldly.

"I'm gonna give you one more chance to take that back Guarnere," Valerie warned, crossing her arms. She felt Lieb step up beside her protectively, and even though she didn't need it she was eternally grateful for him in that moment. He had her back, and he wanted her to know it.

"I ain't taking nothing back, I said what I said," he insisted, ignoring Don's contined pleas for him to back down.

Valerie narrowed her eyes at Bill, her fingers clenching against her crossed arms and her face reddening. Beside her, Lieb was clenching his fists so hard she was sure they'd split open at the knuckles.

"You really don't know when to shut your damn mouth do you?" Snapped Lieb, stepping forward and raising his fist for another go at Bill. But Valerie threw her arm across his chest and stopped him, shaking her head and silently trying to tell him that she could deal with this herself. He huffed but stepped back beside her, continuing to glare harshly at Bill.

"Well you know what gonorrhea," Valerie hissed coldly, stepping up to him "next time why don't you say that to my fists huh? Because you are sorely mistaken if you don't think I could punch you so hard you'd be seeing Lady Liberty dancing the jive."

Bill was about to respond when they were interrupted by a stern voice.

"What's going on here?" Asked Lieutenant Winters, who'd appeared behind Valerie without her noticing. She took a few deep breaths before turning on her toes to face him.

"Nothin' for you to worry about Lieutenant Winters," she replied. He glanced between her and Bill sceptically, his eyebrows furrowing as he assessed the situation.

"Well," he said evenly, "whatever fight was going on here that you don't want me to know about, break it up. We've got a lot of training and work to do once we get to England so use these next five days wisely and take all the rest you can get."

The men who'd gathered on the floor dispersed hastily with a few 'yes sir's'. With one final lingering glare, Bill and Valerie turned away from each other and went their separate ways. She was about to follow Lieb up to his bunk when a tap on her shoulder stopped her.

"Could I talk to you up on deck Lieutenant?" He asked tightly. Val stared him down for a moment before nodding her agreement and following him up the steps and onto the breezy deck.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about?" She asked after a few beats of awkward silence. His shoulders tensed and he looked out over the ocean for a few seconds before speaking.

"Lieutenant Landry, I don't want you to think I'm criticising you but..."

Look," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, "whatever it is you gotta say to me jus' get on with it."

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face roughly. "I really don't want to fight fight you so please, don't get all offended about this," he paused in his speech and took a deep breath before continuing, "you're a ranking officer Landry, you cant just go around threatening your NCO's, or any of the men for that matter. It's completely out of line."

"Out of line?," she hissed, narrowing her eyes, her temper immediately flaring at his accusing tone, "Guarnere was out of line makin' comments about Jews and then disrespectin' me. So I think I had every right to say what I said, an' I'd say it again too. You weren't even there, you have no idea what happened before you turned up."

"Then tell me," he sighed, "tell me what happened and I'll go down there and deal with Bill right this minute."

"I just told you, he was making comments about Jews and then he disrespected me," she explained tersely, "And I don't need you to go down there and deal with it. I was dealin' with it jus' fine until you showed up." She couldn't believe he was standing there reprimanding her, nor that he wanted to play the white knight and go deal with the situation for her. She had been handling the situation and herself just fine before he showed up.

"I understand that Guarnere is difficult, and I have no doubt he was running his mouth and deserved a reprimand," Winters groaned, "but you still shouldn't have spoken to him like that, especially in front of the rest of the men. You should have officially reprimanded him in a calm way like a ranking officer should."

He was questioning her capabilities as an officer. He honestly believed that she couldn't behave like an officer should. They'd never been friends, hell, they couldn't even have a conversation, but she'd always grudgingly respected that he was a good officer. She'd never once doubted his capabilities as a leader.

In a deep buried part of her, though she'd never admit it, his words stung. His doubts of her capabilites hurt. She had a level of respect for him that obviously he didn't have for her. She'd thought that despite all the tension between them, she could at least count on the fact that he'd respect her position as a Lieutenant. Clearly she'd been wrong.

"Oh, so you doubt my capabilities as an officer is that it?" She snapped defensively, "and for your information, you missed the part where I very calmly told him to take back what he said. You're making a whole lot of assumptions based on the tiny part of the conversation you saw, but I can't say I'm surprised. You've obviously never respected my place in Easy and now the truth of your thoughts has finally come out."

Dick shook his head and ran his tongue over his teeth, his jaw tensing slightly. "That's not what I meant and you know it, stop putting words in my mouth. You're quite possibly the most impossible person I've ever met." He placed his hands on his hips and looked out over the sea once more. "I never said I didn't respect your position as a Lieutenant, I just meant you should have reprimanded Guarnere more calmly."

His patronising was just making her more mad. He really had the nerve to stand there and act like he was better than her when he couldn't possibly understand the situation. "You implied I didn't behave like a proper officer, so please do tell me what you actually meant when you said that because I'd just love to know."

"I didn't mean it like that, so I'm sorry if that's how it came across to you," he huffed, trying to keep his emotions in check, "Just don't talk to your subordinates like that anymore, alright? We've got more than enough to worry about without fights between the officers and the enlisted." He turned to leave without waiting for her to respond any further.

She watched him walk away from her, her simmering temper roiling. Why that sanctimonious prat. She'd just love to see what he would have done if he were in her shoes.

"You know what Winters," she shouted at his retreating back, unable to stop herself from getting in the last word, "I'd like to see you spend a day in my shoes and keep your goddamn cool." Now that she'd started she couldn't stop, all of her frustrated feelings pouring out of her now she'd opened the floodgates a crack.

"I'd like to see you stand there while Guarnere mocks you and says you're just an angry woman on the rag and not get mad. So don't you stand there and patronise me about propriety. Because you know what, if you could actually manage to keep your cool in that situation I'd reckon you were a goddamn saint."

She stormed past his frozen form and marched out the door without a backwards glance, slamming it harshly behind her. Now then, let him stew on that for awhile. She pointedly ignored the twinge of hurt she felt at his words, furiously tampering it down and smothering it with her anger as she marched back to her cabin.

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @geniedocroe @generousdreamlanddestiny @sunsetmando @cagzzz107 @howunexpectedlyso @alejodi0nysus @sunflowerchuck @now-im-a-belieber

If you'd like to be added to my taglist then just let me know 💕

[mxpseudonym]

Punishment

Pairing: Tommy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tommy’s wicked games leave you breaking the rules, but punishment for you means punishment for him too. Who can hold out the longest?  🤔

Length: 2369 words (allegedly)

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, cursing, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, dirty talk, Dom/sub

A/N: This is in the same realm as Permission. It’s the obvious obsession with thighs and stockings for me. 

--

Tommy watched you through his office door with a look akin to yearning on his face. What did it really mean to be punished? 

Tommy's mind flashed back to you underneath him on Monday evening- wrists tied to the headboard with a leather strap and bottom lip at the mercy of your gnawing teeth. You were trying your best to balance on edge without toppling right over. If you didn't get it together, you'd shift from being a good girl to a disobedient whore. 

"Is this what you wanted, sweetheart?" 

Tommy's gritted his teeth as he adjusted your legs over his shoulders. His week had already been shit, and it was only the beginning. Between Polly yelling at him and Alfie Solomons never giving straight answers, he needed proper stress relief. 

He looked down at you, your forehead damp and eyes glossy as his hips snapped forward. You were in a similar boat as the Shelby Company Ltd charity manager. Contracts, donations, and shady nuns led you to have the same need. However, where you were looking for simple relief, Tommy channeled his frustration into a wicked game. 

You could feel yourself flutter around his cock, and he switched to a long, deep stroke. You weren't going to last. There was no way. 

"I-I'm so, Tommy, please let me,"

"No," Tommy stopped you with a firm voice, accompanied by a reassuring squeeze to your thigh. "I'm not finished yet. You may not come."

"Tommy," you whined and clenched your eyes shut. You could hardly think like this. Even squeezing your nails into your palms and counting backward from one hundred didn't help. You could feel tears of overwhelm and fret pricking your eyes. You had one rule that night, and you weren't sure you could follow it much longer. 

Tommy turned his head, kissing your calf and enjoying the way you gasped when he nipped it. This wasn't as easy for him as he'd like to admit. A soft spot in him wanted to give you everything you wanted whenever you asked. He'd never lead you on only to deny you. And yet,

"Beg. You say you want it, but you're not telling me how much. Beg for it, sweetheart." 

"Please, ah," 

Your words got stuck in your throat as Tommy slid his hands up to the backs of your knees. He leaned forward to push them towards your chest. This was undoubtedly more...everything- tight, deep, desperate. Between your eyes rolling back and the clear view of where his cock was sliding in and out of you, Tommy could hardly decide which was the better view. 

"What was that, sweetheart?"

"Please, please... let me come... I'm... I need it, Tommy, Sir," you cried, only getting the odd word out between gasps. Your grip tightened around the slack of the strap that bound you. Usually, this was where he'd cave. You were already clenching around him, and your legs were twitching even in their restricted position. But there was a greater goal, one that depended on your forced rebellion.

"You need it? You want more, love?"

"No, I can't, I can't!" 

You were babbling as you looked up at him, shaking your head with tears leaking. He was groaning himself, getting closer and closer to getting lost. 

"You can't? I thought you needed it." 

"Tommy!" 

"Hmm?" 

He reached down and gently pressed your clit, circling it slowly. This was it. Your resolve snapped like a rubber band. You came long and hard, hips bucking and moans spilling from you. The way your back arched alone was enough for him, but your face of pleasure and disapproval was exceptional. 

Tommy's hips snapped against yours as he followed your release. He buried his face into your neck for only a moment before you heard the tsking. If your hands weren't tied, you would have covered your ears. You didn't want the truth. You didn't want to listen to what you already knew. Bemused disappointment graced Tommy's face as he looked down at you and cupped your cheek. 

"Y/n, you didn't follow the rules, did you?"

The concept had been your idea, and, looking back, Tommy knew it was a brave ask. You were a perfectionist, and mistakes sent you into a frenzy more often than not. Even for this little game, he'd spent the rest of the night holding you close and reassuring that your punishment was not a reflection of your worth. You weren't stripped of your title of being good, and you didn't need to apologize too much, but there were rules in place for a reason. 

In the end: what was a punishment? In this case, as a businessman, first and foremost, Tommy saw it as an investment. Showing you that mistakes happened to everyone and the only option is to work through it was a worthwhile lesson. On the other end, he could stand to learn a thing or two about not treating you like a fragile china doll as well.

Investment or not, this punishment was a sort of hell for him. It was only Thursday, and Tommy was already contemplating the value of discipline as he watched you through his office door. There were only two more days left before he could be in you again, but he was beginning to wonder who was on edge more- you or him. And if it was him, what did it really mean to be punished? You weren't allowed to touch yourself until Saturday, much less seek out a release. He, on the other hand, was missing you- not just the warmth of being in you, but the feeling of being connected in that way. 

It didn't help that your frustration was evident. Even now, Tommy watched you at your desk, hands fisted in your lap as you tightly crossed your legs. Tommy smiled softly as you shook your head softly, trying to rid yourself of naughty thoughts. Adorable. 

"Y/n, come in here," Tommy called to you when the last person in the office left for lunch. You grabbed a notepad and came into the office, shutting the door behind you when Tommy told you. 

"Yes, sir?" 

He motioned for you to come around his desk, and you did so with no hesitation. Tommy turned his desk chair towards you and grasped your hips, rubbing his thumbs against the fabric of your dress gently. 

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" 

"I'm alright," you began, then lowered your voice to answer his real question. "It's not easy, but I'm holding up well, aren't I?" 

"Of course, you're doing well." Tommy nodded and kissed your knuckles before looking you over. 

You were wearing one of his favorite dresses. He wondered for a moment if you'd done it on purpose. The way it fits you ideally, flattering his favorite parts of you. And you had on the new stockings he got you. Were you feeling in need of closeness? It wouldn't be a surprise. He noted that you liked extra comfort when punished. 

"I'm wearing the new... set you got me too, Mr. Shelby, so I'm delighted today," you told him with a smile after seeing his eyes fall to the gift. No wonder you were so tense at your desk. It was more than just stockings. He looked up at you with a smirk. Never naive. 

"Show me."

You slowly reached down and pulled up the hem of your dress. Tommy hummed at the sight of you before him, so attentive and eager. He grasped your hips again and turned you, moving you to lean over his desk. "Bend over, love. Show it off for me." 

You did as you were told, leaving you resting on your forearms with your dress over your waist. Tommy reached up and skimmed the embroidered lettering on the lining of the lacy black shorts that covered your bottom. It was a step further than his initials this time. 

Property of Thomas M. Shelby. 

Tommy kissed your bottom, and you gasped.

"You look perfect, sweetheart," Tommy said while placing his hands on either leg, moving up to press his thumbs into the flesh of your inner thigh. 

"Thank you, Tommy," you breathed. Even the little bit of contact made you shiver. The anticipation of the week left you sensitive, with even the brushing of your bra against your chest left you huffing that morning. You looked over your shoulder at Tommy with fluttering, glossy eyes full of arousal. "I'm happy you like it, Sir."

That was enough. You had to be doing this on purpose. Tommy squeezed your thighs with firm hands and looked down. The bulge of his trousers was only growing at this point. With everyone at lunch, you had enough time to find a remedy. Tommy stood and pressed against you. 

"Do you see how much?"

"Y-yes, Sir." 

Tommy moved almost instinctually as he spread your legs so he could press into you. You were so good, so good for him and already whimpering as he moved your hips back. 

"You're making me want to end your punishment early, sweetheart," Tommy nearly groaned. Your shorts were dampening and clinging to you already. What he wouldn't give to sink himself into your wetness. "But it's for your sake. Good girls take their disciplines, don't they?" 

"Yes, Sir," You replied softly but confidently. Your soft and steady submission made him twitch against you. Fuck, he really did need to do something about this. After all, it was your punishment, not his. He could cum as much as he wanted, right? 

"You can still please me in the meantime, would you like that?" He asked. The mystery in his word gave you pause as a small spike of anxiety went through you. However, the excitement you felt overcame it, and you found yourself nodding. Still, Tommy stopped mid-motion. "Look at me." 

You looked over your shoulder at Tommy again and swallowed at the sincerity on his face. Knowing this was a look only you got to see made your heart beat faster.

"Sir?" 

"I didn't hear your voice, and I need to know it's alright, sweetheart," Tommy said, squeezing your hip gently. 

"Yes, please, Sir." 

"Good girl." 

Tommy smiled at the overly pleased look on your face from hearing praise again. Tommy's chair was moved out the way before the sound of a drawer opening and closing behind you filled your ears. Next was the shuffling of clothing. What was he up to? 

"You're such a pretty woman, sweetheart. You know I love it when I get to see you like this." He trailed his fingers over the back of your thighs. The familiar smoothness of the head of Tommy's cock against your leg made you jump. 

"Tommy," you gasped. 

"Come on, sweetheart, press those legs together," he mumbled, almost in a trance already. 

You instinctively did as you were told, but it was a moment later when you felt him push his way between them did you gasp in realization. There was a slickness that aided Tommy fucking your thighs, making you realize it must have been lotion that he'd grabbed.

"Together, love, just like that," he groaned, snapping his hips into the tightness of your thighs. You raised yourself enough to looked down and see the head of his cock pressing through to the front of your thighs, already making a mess as it leaked all over you. Was there anything more embarrassing? 

You looked over your shoulder at Tommy, and he groaned. Shame aside, your eyes were tearing up, and you were biting your lip with a salaciousness he loved seeing from you. 

"Is it good like this, Sir?" You whispered, pressing back into him. He rutted into you at the question. Maybe you weren't such a good girl. 

"Perfect, sweetheart. You're doing so well." 

"Good, I want you to use me as you need." 

"Fucking hell," 

"I want you to feel good, Sir," you continued your rambling. 

Keeping your eye contact, you licked your fingers and reached down. Even with just a little added pressure, you massaged the head of his cock with each stroke. 

"Y/n, fuck."

He hadn't expected it to feel this good. You were pressing your thighs together even more, and now you were moaning softly. Every so often, he was brushing against you through your bottoms, and there was no better feeling. You moved back, matching his thrusts as if he was in you. 

"Should I beg for it, Sir? Can I beg for your cum, please?" 

Tommy was at a loss for words for a moment. He could only grip your waist tighter while shuffling his mind for an answer to your wanton question- the ask of being able to beg in the first place. It was, it was too much. 

In a flash, he felt himself releasing in thick ropes. He took advantage of the new slickness, continuing to stroke until he was too sensitive.

You looked down at the now soaked tops of your stockings and felt your face heat up as Tommy used a handkerchief to clean your inner thighs after readjusting his pants. As you predicted, Tommy kissed each of your thighs but made no moves to clean up or remove your stockings. 

You pleasured Tommy, and the evidence was hiding under your dress. How filthy were you to wonder what you'd done to get to be so happy and excited at that moment?

Tommy's grip was too tight as his lips pressed against yours, and his hands roamed over your sides. You moaned into his mouth, letting your tongues slide against each other. Your eyebrows furrowed when he moved to your neck, nipping at the skin there. You were... you were close. 

"T-Tommy? Tommy, I need you to stop now." You quietly pushed him away. He cupped your face and looked into your eyes with concern, only to see a fierce worry in your eyes that he'd seen just a few days ago before you broke the rules. Was it wrong that the look made him more aroused? 

"I see."

Begrudgingly, Tommy sent you to retrieve lunch, giving you both a moment to collect yourselves on your own, not that either of you would find peace. It was something he'd take into consideration in the future. Your punishment was a punishment for him, too. Yes, indeed.