#i had to leave a pot empty for him

[sourtomatola]

Pot buds!

[krys-loves-otome]

Hi, Ana / @bicayaya, I'm your gifter for the Mayday Heyday OC Exchange!

Since Beatrice's profile mentioned that she played piano as a hobby, I thought it would be cute for her and Yves to play music together, thus how this came together.

Did take one or two liberties with Beatrice's clothes but I think she turned out super adorable!

Thanks for hosting the event @lorei-writes and @olivermorningstar! I had a lot of fun!

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: harassment, non-consensual touching (non-sexual), insecurities

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

When you hear the door to the classroom swing open, slam into the wall, and as if on cue a chorus of laughs resound around the room, you know it's James and his imbecile friends.

Your lips thin into a tight-lipped smile as you send Marlene an exhausted look.

"Gentlemen," Slughorn drones on as he turns to look at the boys, who comedically trip over themselves to find their spots in the crowd of students, "You're late." 

"Evidently, Professor." Sirius Black quips and nudges his shoulder into James. The latter smirks.

James has somehow found his way next to you. He hasn't done it on purpose but when he turns his head and sees you beside him, his smirk turns into a wide smile.

A smile that never fails to make your knees shake and your heart feel like it could explode.

"Y/n," James whispers. 

"Hi Potter," you roll your eyes, hiding a smile behind faux frustration.

You and James aren't friends. Well, unless you counted the years from ages four to eleven, when you had been inseparable. You'd grown apart these last years and while you'd cried over your lost friendship in first year, you had decided it was for the best to distance yourself from him anyway. 

Having a crush on your best friend is incredibly cliché.

Still, although you weren't friends in the same way as you had been, James has always been kind to you.

He says hello to you when he sees you in the hallway. You have had pleasant conversations in passing, and when his family occasionally has yours over – for old times sake – you both sit on the balcony outside his window and talk as if nothing has changed. 

You shift away from James a little, feeling too close to him, and cross your arms. You turn your attention to Slughorn as he clears his throat and lifts the lid from the pot, "Very well then,"

His sentence is drowned out by the soft, delicate smell that fills the room. You pin-point the scent of broom-polish immediately. Rosemary, vanilla, bergamot and cedar. Your expression falls. Bergamot and cedar. Your head spins and you wonder if James put on too much cologne this morning or if — 

Your mind suddenly goes completely blank when you feel James's breath against your ear, uttering exactly what you had been wondering, but this time about you, "Hey, did you put on more perfume than usual? I can smell it from here," his voice is teasing and you feel just a little fainter than you already had been. 

"Amortentia," Slughorn interrupts, "The most powerful love potion to exist. It smells differently to everyone, depending on what attracts them — or sometimes who attracts them," He continues on, explaining the dangers of the potion, but you aren't listening anymore. 

You look up. James has gone quiet and he's staring at the bubbling liquid, a vacant look in his eyes. Your heart clenches and you turn your head, inclining it down. You must have heard him wrong. James must have been confused.

A pit forms in your stomach when James moves away from you, leaving your side feeling empty. You hear him laugh with Remus and your hand squeezes around your arms. 

You hadn't worn any perfume this morning.

"Hey, Y/n/n," You're pulled from your thoughts when William, another Gryffindor, comes up from behind you and shoves into your shoulder so he's standing next to you.

"I knew I'd smell someone as hot as you in there," He teases, leaning in close. "Just like fucking vanilla," Williams brings his hand into your hair, twirling some strands in his fingers as he presses his nose close to your temple and inhales. 

"Hey," You move your head away, feeling disgusted. William just barks out a laugh and his arm extends to grab yours. Suddenly, you're almost pushed to the side when James stands in front of you and shoves William away. The boy bumps into the cauldron and the Amortentia spills all over the floor. 

"All three of you," Slughorn suddenly booms, his cheeks flushed crimson, "McGonagall. Now."

So you find yourself standing in the middle of James and William in McGonagall's office. The older woman is sitting at her desk, her arms crossed as she stares at you all from behind her small glasses. She looks at William first considering his shirt is drenched in the thick liquid from the Amortentia, "What happened?"

"Potter shoved me," Williams states quickly, glaring at James.

"And I'd do it again," James snarls, crossing his arms. 

McGonagall looks utterly exhausted at their bickering and turns her attention to you. "What about you, Miss Y/l/n, care to explain what happened?"

William sends you a dark look, but when you look at James his expression is soft. "William made me uncomfortable in class and when James saw, he accidentally shoved him into the Amortentia and it spilled all over."

"It wasn't an accident! He did it on purpose!" William argues like a child and James sends him a knowing smirk.

"Oh yeah, the shove was intentional," he grins wolfishly, "Although, I didn't mean to knock the potion over, Minnie," James looks over at McGonagall and this time he looks a little sheepish. McGonagall just stares at him as if he has gone insane and then she looks at you.

"You can leave, Miss Y/l/n," she says and looks back at the boys and hums, "You two may not."

You glance at James a little nervously but he sends you a reassuring smile. So, you ignore William's loud complaining and thank McGonagall as you walk out of her classroom.

* * *

A few hours later, when you're walking out of the Great Hall after dinner, you and your friends run into James again. He's also with his friends, leaning against the wall, and they're laughing obnoxiously loud.

However, when James sees you his smile widens. "Ladies," he says, crossing his arms cheekily.

"Gentlemen," your lips curl into a smirk as you nod at Sirius, Remus, and Peter. James tilts his head at his friends, his expression quirking almost as if he's annoyed that you mentioned them and not him. 

"You feeling okay?" James asks. 

You stare at him, trying to understand exactly what he means.

Does he really care or is he only asking because he's in trouble because of you. Is it mocking?

You start to overthink and James can sense it. So, he moves a little closer to you and you can smell his cologne. It sends heat creeping up your neck.

He asks again. "After what happened with William," he whispers, "when he made you uncomfortable. Are you okay?" James looks genuine and you see his hand hesitating to touch your arm.

You look up at him, staring into his eyes, "O-Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I was just - I didn't think anyone would have smelt me in that potion," you laugh, rambling because that's what you do when you're nervous. You can see James's expression shift into a small smile.

"You'd be surprised," he says, rubbing his nape, "Hey, can we talk in private? I wanted to ask you something?"

Once you say yes, you find yourself in a small, empty, classroom with James. You lean against a desk, hand gripping the edge as you stare at him. "What's up?" you ask. James has never asked you to talk like this.

"My mum is having one of her family dinners for Christmas," James starts, "I wanted to invite you, personally," he adds, as if he's been rehearsing. 

Usually, his mother will invite yours and then by proxy you'll show up. But, this is different. "You want me to come?" your eyebrow raises in confusion, "Personally?"

"Yeah," he sounds unsure, "I mean we're friends, right?"

Is that what we are, you want to ask him but you don't. "I didn't think we were friends anymore," You say honestly and James's expression falls.

He fiddles with his hands nervously but walks closer until he's directly in front of you. You lean away from him and into the desk, chin tilted up to look at him. 

"I'm an idiot," he whispers, looking at you intensely, "I shouldn't have let you slip out of my hands like that. I, well, miss you, a lot."

You listen to him with harsh breaths, trying to understand where this all comes from and why now.

James's hand reaches out and hovers over your cheeks until he holds you and brings you closer to his face. Your eyes round. You're so sure he'll kiss you with how close you are and by the way he's looking at you. You don't have time to make up your mind if you'd want to kiss him or not, because instead, he guides your cheek to his chest and his arms wrap around you. 

He crushes you into a hug. 

Your breath escapes you in a sigh, "James?"

"Y/n," he says your name smoothly and soothes a hand down your hair, "You smell like vanilla and cinnamon. With just a hint of freshly-mowed grass, probably because whenever I see you after a Quidditch match you always have some grass in your hair, right here," James says in a whisper and his finger traces behind your ear.

"Usually from a small tumble," he adds, "You're so clumsy sometimes."  

You pull away only to have him hold you closer. 

"I can't keep pretending I don't think about you," he admits and that sends all emotions crashing over you. You stare at him, lips parted and eyebrows creased, as you try and understand the meaning behind the words. "I smelt you in the Amortentia," James admits.

"You smelt me? You're joking."

James suddenly frowns and he watches as you practically try and sink into the desk behind you. He can take a hint and he moves away. "What? No?" 

You feel your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. "You aren't joking?"

James's face softens and he smiles. "Of course I'm not – I smelt you and also your perfume which," his smile turns into a smirk, "I can tell you aren't wearing right now." James chuckles happily, his eyes crinkling in the corners and your heart flutters. "Merlin I gave myself away in that classroom, didn't I, love?" 

Your insides become mush at the nickname and you find yourself nodding. 

James looks at you fondly even when he says, "I understand if you don't feel the same. If I'm not the boy you like or a boy you want. I have been a foolish ass for the majority of our time here at school. I've ignored you and worse than that, I let myself forget how lucky I was to have you as my friend and I'm so sorry."

As you hear his words, you can feel tears brim in your eyes. James's fond smile disappears and he starts to panic. "Hey, hey, hey!" his hands cup around your cheeks without even thinking. "I don't want to make you cry, love. Y-you're okay," he promises frantically. 

James is so close. His cologne has invaded your senses until you can't think clearly. All you can do is lean in closer until your nose brushes his. James is surprised but when he looks into your eyes, his body relaxes as he understands what you want. You like to think it's all the years you were friends that makes it so easy for James to understand.

"You want me to kiss you?" he whispers, his voice husky and low.

You feel warm all over as his arm slides behind you and he holds your lower back, waiting for a yes so he can pull you closer. You nod, smiling. You wonder if I have to tell him he's the one you smelled in the potion or if he'll understand by the way you kiss him. 

James's lips press onto yours. He's testing the waters, making sure he's not moving too quickly or too slowly. You let your hand find his hair as you pull him closer. James's hand wraps around you and in the passion, he hoists you up onto the desk behind you and you pull him in.

You kiss him like you've never kissed anyone and it takes your hand on his chest to snap James back into reality. He gently disconnects your lips and leans his forehead on yours.

His eyes are still closed when he says, "Shh, we have all the time in the world. I don't plan on letting you slip away from me again, Y/n," he says it like a promise. Like a prayer. 

Finally, you speak, "James. I missed you," you admit in a whisper. 

James holds you closer. "I missed you more. You don't know how much you mean to me." 

You laugh, feeling how close he is and how badly he doesn't want to drop your hand. "I think I can guess," you say teasingly.

James shakes his head. "My love goes beyond any words I could possibly muster." 

You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since when is James Potter such a hopeless romantic?" 

James grins, his hand sliding down to your thigh as he draws soothing circles on your skin, "He's always been a romantic, darling. He just hasn't had the chance to show you," he whispers and quickly kisses the tip of your nose. 

"Well, he can start now," you smile.

James nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. "So, does this mean that we're friends again?"

You pull away and send him a playful look. "Can this mean we're more than friends now?"

James looks into your eyes and deep in his brown ones, you can see his sincerity, "We'll be whatever you want, love," he says. He hugs you close and your face is buried in his neck. You sniff, your smile widening.

You whisper into his neck, "Bergamot and cedar."

James chuckles, still holding you, "What was that, love?"

"Nothing," you smile, simply content with holding him. 

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

There’s a Beta standing in Eddie’s doorway. She’s slim, choppy ginger hair and red boots poking out from under the cuffs of her denim dungarees – Eddie likes her pretty much immediately.

She’s holding a plate.

She hasn’t managed to speak yet, but from down the hall, Eddie hears a voice hiss, “Robin!”

They both turn to look. The Omega of Eddie’s dreams face and...tummy...are both poking out of the doorway. He looks mortified.

“So sorry,” the Beta starts, “Steve was too embarrassed to come and ask a second time, but he’s basically had his nose pressed to the door for the past half an hour so…” she holds out the plate.

From down the hall, very faintly, the Omega, who Eddie now knows must be called ‘Steve,’ whines, “why are you like this,” and then clicks the door shut.

“I’m Robin, by the way,” and she holds out her non plate hand to shake.

Eddie ends up shaking one hand and taking the plate from the other. Eddie knew, objectively, that Steve must have a partner, but he still has to squish the disappointment of meeting them. “Eddie...just, give me a second. It’s chicken parm.”

Eddie goes and dishes up a portion, it was going to be tomorrows lunch but...he can’t deny the pretty little Omega anything. Maybe he should start cooking extra extras, even if Steve doesn’t come knocking, at least it’s a meal he can have another time.

“This is one of his favorites, no wonder he was so restless about it.”

“Yeah, well, anytime,” and Eddie could add that Robin should be making Steve’s favorites, but he doesn’t because he’s pretty sure Robin is cool and he already knows Steve is sweet and he’s just not that kind of person.

Much.

“I’m sorry, you’ve done what to the pulled pork?”

“Orange and Oregano, trust me Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind.”

“Uh hu, and someone else's by the look of it, you’ve cooked enough for us and that Omega guy twice over.” Eddie just rolls his eyes. “You got all your shit put away then?”

“Pretty much, and leave that alone.”

Dustin huffs but puts the spoon down and replaces the lid on the crock pot, “what are we having with it?”

“Was going to do dirty fries.”

“Oh my god. You’re a saint. A hero. You should be knighted like ye olde dragon-slayers of yore-”

“Yeah yeah, this will not score you any extra loot later.”

“Mayhap a smidgen of exper-” Dustin stops at the sound of knocking, looking to the door. “Is it your Omega?” He whisper hisses at Eddie.

“He’s not mine, he’s got a girlfriend,” Eddie whisper hisses back.

Doesn’t stop him pulling his shirt straight and tugging at his jeans and fluffing his hair real quick on the way to the door. All of that is kind of...reflexive, though.

Dustin’s smirk is actually slap worthy, and Eddie will get to that right after he answers the door.

“I am so sorry about this,” Steve is saying before Eddie even has the door fully open, “and I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I thought I could at least contribute.” He’s holding two plates, one empty, one stacked up with cookies, “they’re Reese’s.”

And Eddie’s mouth is watering, not just from the scent of Steve, but because he can see the chunks of partially melted Reese's pieces sticking out of the cookies, “they look incredible, thank you,” Eddie takes both plates, “it’s not actually ready yet, can I drop it by in like, thirty minutes?”

“Oh you are my hero,” Steve beams at him. It’s a happy smile, a smile that comes with the scent of pleased Omega. Happy Omega. Happy Omega with pup. The kind of smile and scent that digs it’s hooks deep into Eddie’s brain and fucking yanks.

“It’s pulled pork, would you rather fries or rice?” Eddie finds himself asking, completely on auto pilot.

“Whatever is easiest. Whatever you were already planning. Thank you so so much Eddie.”

Eddie watches Steve waddle back to his apartment down the hall before he turns, a plate in each hand, and nudges the door closed with his foot.

“Thank you so much Eddie. I made you cookies Eddie,” Dustin simpers from the couch, before making kissey noises.

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

Eddie stands in the hallway in his crocs. His apartment is new, so he has a strict no shoes policy; but he has a pair of crocs for in the hall and heading outside real quick. Also, they're comfortable as fuck, so Eddie refuses to be judged.

Especially since they’re black, and Dustin got him all these little button things that pop in the holes. Little swords and shields and D20’s and stuff. So they’re super cool.

Steve opens the door, wincing, one hand resting on the small of his back, but his face blooms back into the beautiful smile at the sight of Eddie. It does something, very briefly, to Eddie. That reaction. And then he viciously reminds himself that the reaction was for Eddie’s food and not at all for Eddie himself.

Steve goes to take the plate but, “it’s hot, I warmed the plate up in the stove, let me put it down somewhere for you?” A trick Eddie learned in his month of working in a kitchen one Christmas when he was a teenager, but it never left him, and he didn't want Steve’s dinner to go cold.

“Oh, gosh, you’re so thoughtful Eddie, come right in.”

Eddie’s heart gives a little flutter at Steve’s praise, and Steve shifts out of the way, letting Eddie into an apartment that’s a mirror of his own. It’s very neat and tidy inside; everything very clearly has a place. Nothing looks brand new, but everything does look well cared for.

Steve directs Eddie to the little two seater dining table, where there’s a place set. It’s so freaking adorable, a place mat with flowers and kittens printed on it, a white folded napkin, cutlery and a glass of juice set out. A single daffodil in a tiny vase.

Eddie puts the plate down carefully, turning to see Steve blushing furiously. “Sorry, I don’t get out much and I wanted to make it nice.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s cute,” Eddie says, even as he feels himself grow irritated yet again with Robin, Steve’s nose twitches, eyeing Eddie with concern, so he does his best to push it down, “well,” Eddie tries his best to be cheerful, “I really hope you enjoy it. Maybe your girlfriend will take you out tomorrow?” He tries to say that with no hint of spite whatsoever.

Steve blinks at him, “girlfriend?”

“Robin? I thought...aren’t you two..?”

Steve snorts a laugh, actually ugly laughs and snorts like a cute little piggy and has to bring his hand up to his face to try and hide his reaction, “no. No, she’s my best friend. She’s home with her girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Eddie says, processing, “oh. Right sorry, I just, assumed…” he can’t stop his eyes from, briefly, flicking to Steve’s tummy.

“It’s okay,” Steve’s smiling at him, “you can ask.”

“Well...I mean when I thought you were with Robin I just assumed you’d used a donor or…”

“Yep!” Steve pops the ‘P’. “I did do that, and I did go to the appointments with Robin, but I’m single. Going it alone.”

And then Steve does quite possibly the sexiest thing Eddie’s ever seen in his entire life; he bares his throat, “see, no bite.”

Eddie has to clear his throat and shift a little where he's standing, lest his inconvenient biological reaction become overly obvious, “why did you decide to, uhm…”

Steve shrugs, smiling happily, “guess I just never was lucky enough to meet the right Alpha.”

And then Steve’s tummy rumbles very aggressively.

“I’ll let you eat your-”

“Gosh excuse me I’m-”

They speak at the same time, and then both end up laughing.

“I’ll leave you to your dinner,”

“Thanks again Eddie, I really do appreciate it.”

Part three

[moonstruckme]

poly!marauders x reader helping her move into their shared flat! maybe a little angst cuz she doesn’t wanna impose but also fluffy

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

“Angel, we’ve got it,” James says again, warding you off with a playfully stern look when you get too close to your own dresser. Sirius, clutching the other end for dear life, looks less confident. “Go start putting things the way you like them, we’ll handle the rest of the big stuff.” 

You give Sirius a guilty look as you do what you’re told, going into the kitchen where Remus is opening your taped-up boxes with a butter knife. 

“Best to stay out of their way,” he advises you. “Jamie will fully let go of that dresser before he lets you near it, and we’ve got a busy enough day ahead of us without taking Sirius to A&E.” 

You grin. “Too true.”

Remus makes a funny cooing sound as he pulls your heart-shaped measuring cups out of a box. “Oh, these are precious.” His bottom lip curls softly. “Is it odd that this feels sort of like opening gifts? Do you have a zester? I’ve been pining after a zester for months.” 

“I do,” you say, somewhat giddy at the prospect of having your things amongst theirs. “It’s in the other box, though.” 

“Fuck, it’s like Christmas.” Remus tears into that box, leaving you to the first. 

It helps that you already have a sense of where things go in the boys’ flat, having stayed here many nights over several months before they’d asked you to move in. You grab the next thing out of your box and reach for the cabinet behind Remus, minding his head as you open it, and look for an empty space on the top shelf. 

“Oh.” The word drops limply from your lips.

“Hm?” 

“You already have a blender.” 

“Yeah, Jamie’d never get by without one,” says Remus with a fond eye roll. “He all but lives on those protein smoothies.” 

“Right. Yeah, I forgot.” 

“You can put yours in there next to it, love.” He looks at you over his shoulder, a slight bemusement in his expression at your dispirited tone. “He leaves that thing dirty in the sink all the time, it’ll be nice to have a backup.” 

“Okay.” You slot yours in beside it, but your eyes fall to the neat stacks of plates and bowls on the shelf below them. Somewhere in the bottom of one of these boxes, you have your own plates and bowls, mismatched and collected from different stores over time. These ones are uniform, a matched set. “Do you think my dishes will go okay in here?” 

“What do you mean?” Remus turns around, following your gaze to the cabinet. “We’ve got plenty of room.” 

“I know, but…” But with your dishes added onto theirs, they’ll be stacked nearly to the top of the shelf. More than anyone needs. “You all picked yours out together, and mine don’t match. I don’t want to add things you don’t like.” 

“You won’t be.” Seeming to sense you need it, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, standing with your back to his front. “Darling, we picked out these dishes because when we moved in here, all three of us had only been using paper plates. It wasn’t a big decision, we just needed to feel like adults.” You can hear his smile close to your ear. “Don’t worry about matching, alright?” 

“Alright,” you say, sinking into his hold, but your mind is already cataloging every way you could be intruding. 

Your glasses won’t go with theirs either, and neither will your pots and pans. The cabinets will be full to bursting. By the window, their little kitchen table has three chairs. The couch in the living room is only big enough to fit three, the armchair they’d bought to accommodate you when you started coming over regularly sitting off to the side. Separate. 

“Hey,” says James, popping into the kitchen. You’re partway through unloading your kitchen things, your guilt mounting with every overstocked shelf. “Do you want to come tell us where you’d like your dresser? We’re having some trouble, it’s a bit of a tight fit.” 

“Yeah,” you say weakly, following him down the hall. Remus, the unofficial master of logistics, comes behind you. 

In the bedroom, Sirius is trying to jam your dresser in between a nightstand and the wall, shoving it with his shoulder and threatening to take off the paint in the process. 

“Stop!” you and Remus say in unison, him rushing forward to grab Sirius while you hang back, open-mouthed. 

“You’re scuffing the wall,” Remus tells Sirius, not unkindly. “Don’t try to make it fit if it doesn’t, love.” 

The words ring around in your head, an omen. 

“I don’t need it,” you say. All three boys turn to look at you, various degrees of befuddled. “It doesn’t fit, it’s fine. I can get rid of it.” 

“It’ll fit,” says Sirius. “We’ve hardly tried yet.” 

“Angel, you love that dresser.” James looks like a confused puppy, clearly having caught onto the fact that something’s wrong but unsure what it is.

You shrug, trying to look nonchalant. You do love it, truthfully. It’s been with you since you moved into your first place, collecting tiny scratches and absorbing the coalescent scent of the candles you keep in the top drawer. It’s been the hallmark of every home that’s ever been your own, but this place isn’t just yours. Your boyfriends are already doing a lot by sharing their space with you, and you don’t want to be more trouble than you’re worth. 

“It doesn’t fit,” you say simply. “It’s okay.” 

“We can put it right there,” Remus says. The three of you turn, and there is a wall by the door, entirely blank. You’d completely forgotten about it. 

“Perfect. Genius, Rem.” James beams at Remus, his expression gentling when he looks back at you. “Okay, lovely?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You smile weakly. Sirius makes a tsking sound, regarding you through narrowed eyes. 

“You’re being weird. Spill.” 

You shrug again, arms wrapping around your middle of their own volition. “I just didn’t think about how much stuff I have until now,” you admit. “You guys already have everything perfect in here, I don’t just want to…cram my stuff in when it’s already the way you like it. I don’t know, it…” You study the floorboards, unable to look at any of them. “It feels like I’m butting in a bit.” 

For a thick, dreadful moment, the boys are silent. 

“We want you to have your things here,” Remus says softly,  “because we want you here, dove.” 

“Alright, let’s not act as though that was ever in question.” Sirius shoots you a smile, dimming a bit when you look at him sheepishly. “Sweetheart, obviously we want you here. Why would we have asked you to move in if we didn’t?”

You nibble the inside of your cheek. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your minds. You guys work together so well already.” 

“We work together with you even better.” James comes up behind you, wrapping you up in a hug like he’s unable to help himself. He sets his lips on your shoulder, words buzzing against your skin. “It wouldn’t feel right if you were here and none of your stuff was. There’s plenty of room, but if in some places there’s not then we’ll make room. We want you here, okay?” 

You nod, trying to make yourself believe it. 

“Let’s have a break,” Remus suggests. “There’s lemonade in the fridge.” 

“Yes please.” Sirius is quickly onboard. “I can feel the soreness coming on already; my muscles have never been so terribly abused. I’m going to need a massage tonight, definitely.” 

“I’ll do it,” you offer. James keeps you tucked under his arm as you all start back down the hall. “Seems like the least I can do.” 

“In that case, I think my thighs are taking the brunt of it. Better pay the most attention to those, sweetness.” 

“These are privileges which you shall have from this night onward,” says James, mashing a kiss into your hair. “Welcome home, angel.” 

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Great Bucky Bake Off | Bucky Barnes x Reader | One shot - 3.5k words

An Avengers retreat takes a turn for the better when Bucky decides to eat your pot brownies… all of the pot brownies.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content. Drinking, casual drug use, Avengers wearing onesies for reasons, very flirty Bucky, p in v & oral sex. Rated R for ridiculous.

A/N: Happy birthday, Bucky Barnes!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Okay, ‘fess up, who ate all my brownies?” You turned to stare down the rest of the team, admittedly a little slow on your feet already.

The scene in the living room could only be described as chaotic. When Tony suggested he fly the team out to his remote cabin for “rest, recuperation and team building”, you had been fully on board. You were even more on board when he had you buy everyone fluffy animal onesies and you’d signed yourself up to a lifetime of being obsessed with your job the day you received an email to source as much weed, alcohol and Asgardian liquor as possible. Being the Avengers PA certainly had its perks. 

“Not me!” Steve admitted, far too quickly. “I didn’t eat them.” He shook his head, sending the dog ears on top of his onesie flopping about. 

You narrowed your eyes, “Well, you sure know something.” He looked the picture of innocence until he pulled Sam into the conversation. 

“Tell 'er Sam, we dunno nothin’ 'bout brownies." 

"Nuthin’” Sam shook his head too, his beer sloshing dramatically in its glass and wetting his hand. “My wings!” He steadied the bottle and brushed the stray liquid from the soft Eagle wings that made up the arms of his outfit.

“Have you spoken to James?” Natasha asked, leaning next to you and swiping crumbs from the plate, the last of the joint you’d shared placed delicately between her fingers. Somehow she managed to make the black onesie look very stylish, the arms rolled up to the silvery spiderwebs embroidered on the elbows and shoulders.

“James? Bucky?" 

Organising and taking part in retreats was your second favourite part of your job. Bucky took the top spot, miles ahead of everything else with his handsome, stubbled face and gruff but gentlemanly manner. Despite being part of the team for a while, he still kept to the background, staying out of the way and keeping quiet. He was always especially polite to you, holding the door and making sure you were included all the time, even if he never really stayed that long at Stark’s parties or Steve’s team building exercises.

Deep down you hoped it was because he saw you the same way you saw him, in your dreams, surrounded by little hearts. 

But life just wasn’t that kind, and you took his friendship gladly if that was all he could give. 

"Why would Bucky eat them, can he even get high?” You slid forwards, leaning on the counter and clutching the empty tray. 

“Bambi!” The four of you whipped around, surprised. Bucky bounced into the room with an enthusiasm that Steve hadn’t seen for decades. He also had chocolate on his cheeks and crumbs all down his front making him instantly guilty. You looked down at your onesie, light brown and speckled like a deer with tiny antlers on the hood. 

“Ha, yeah, like Bambi.” You giggled.

“And I’m Thumper!” He laughed back pulling the hood of his own pyjamas up and letting the long, grey, ears drop in front of his face. 

“Because you punch people?” You were momentarily confused, your brain refusing to work and instead focusing on the too tight fabric around Bucky’s arms. 

Behind you Sam coughed to cover his laughter and Natasha turned away, eyes full of mirth. 

“No! Thumper in Bambi!" 

"The girl rabbit?” Tony dropped down onto the huge sectional couch, surprisingly sober. Although you were sure that had more to do with promising Pepper to keep the cabin safe, rather than any personal choice. 

“Thumper is a boy.” Bucky insisted, eyes never leaving yours, his smile boyish and relaxed.

“How would you know?” Sam scoffed, leaning over the back of the couch, positively gleeful when Steve whispered that Bambi was also a boy and they fell back laughing together.

“Because, Sam, I’ve seen Bambi." 

"What?” Tony’s snort of derision didn’t go unnoticed, but you shot him a glare. This was possibly the most relaxed you’d ever seen Bucky, you wouldn’t be letting anyone, including your boss, spoil it. 

“I saw Bambi, in 1942, when it first came out,” he said proudly. 

“That’s right, I remember!” Steve jumped up, the Asgardian liquor cocktail that Natasha had rustled up earlier starting to take effect. “We went with your sisters, Rebecca cried when Bambi’s mom got shot and he was all alone." 

"Don’t spoil it, Stevie.” Bucky chastised, turning back to you as quickly as possible, “Have you seen it? Do you want to see it? We could see it?”

You nodded but he ignored you, continuing to talk as he got closer and closer, backing you into the kitchen island where the empty brownie tray dropped with a clang. 

"We can go, I’ll take you, Saturday, you can have as much popcorn and soda as you like.” His right hand swayed by his side, nudging closer to yours until your fingers touched. “What d'ya say?" 

Every fibre of your being screamed yes, just as you’d internally jumped for joy whenever he came by your office or handed you a coffee. But those times you were sober, calm, collected. Now you were four drinks and half a joint deep, floating off into the clouds. Professional judgement be damned. 

So you screamed "Yes!” outloud for once. 

He beamed, throwing his arms around you and squeezing just a little too tight until you squeaked. “Good, gonna be my best girl, my Bambi and I’ll be Thumper, buy you lots of popcorn and - oh - you’re really soft.” His hands found the back of your hood, pulling it up to sit on top of your head, letting it fall into your eyes. 

“Yeah it’s nice, right?” 

“S’fluffy.” Bucky’s thumbs brushed over your lips and down your neck, just inside the hood for a moment, before finding your shoulders and arms, rubbing the fuzzy material until you felt static build on your skin. “You’re really cute, y’know,” he whispered. “My own little Bambi.”

“I know.” You giggled back, picking up the joint again so you’d had something to do with your hands other than grip the front of your own outfit. 

“We didn’t smoke weed back in the day,” he said, conversationally, as if he didn’t have his hands in your pockets, pulling out your lighter and a lip balm. 

“No?” You took a drag, blowing the smoke to the side politely. 

“Did a lot of cocaine though, keep us awake on missions.” 

“Jesus. That’s…intense.” 

He nodded, watching your fingers against your lips, the little pout when you exhaled. 

“Can I?” 

“You ate a whole tray of brownies, Bucky, I don’t know if you should have anymore.” You extended your arm away from his grabby hands, hoping Natasha would come and take it away again, but to no avail. Instead, he lifted you onto the counter, pinned your leg down and followed the line of your arm to your outstretched hand. His lips brushed the backs of your fingers when he took the twist of paper into his lips. You waved him over and he held his breath as he returned to you, leaning in close and only exhaling when you pulled your hoods together, his nose against yours. 

Instinctively you inhaled, the rush of smoke and the smell of Bucky was overwhelming. You giggled again, trapping him against you with an arm around his neck and your legs around his waist. 

“Haven’t shotgunned since college.” You smiled, everything was so floaty and soft, fuzzy round the edges and so fucking warm. When did it get so warm? 

“You know with your floppy ears you could be-” your laughter bubbled up, cutting you off, “you could- sorry - oh my god - you could be Bucks Bunny!" 

Bucky did not seem to like that nickname as much as Thumper and told you so, pouting until you let him take another long drag. 

Time seemed to slow down between Bucky’s words, his hands, the way your glass of wine felt in your hand and the texture of his onesie. They were a good idea, so soft, good for petting, and Bucky was petting you too. His right hand was burning hot, even through the thick material, the pads of his fingers were calloused and rough, but the palm was soft. His left hand was so rigid, making a whirring noise. When you put your cheek to the artificial bicep it ticked pleasantly and you smiled, sighing and closing your eyes so you could concentrate on the joined sounds of Bucky’s heart and his prosthesis. In turn, Bucky held you gently, his metal fingers gentle on your back where he kept you snuggled in tight beside him. 

You were faintly aware of the ongoing chatter across the room, but it had faded away into background static. Your soul focus was on the way two of Bucky’s eyebrow hairs stuck out from the others, the little patch of grey forming in his stubble, the dark fleck of colour in his iris, the way his mouth looked saying your name. Oh shit, he’s saying your name, say something back! 

“Uh huh, yeah, uhm - maybe?” 

He tipped his head to the side, bunny ears flopping over too, and came closer again. His hands on your cheeks. “I’ll help you.” He leant forwards to rest his forehead against yours. 

“What’ya doing?” You tried to look at your forehead too but your eyes seemed to stop when they got to your eyelashes. Annoying. 

“Telling you what I’m thinking without saying it.” 

“Oh, is it working?” 

“You have to tell me that, silly!”

“I don’t think it’s working,” you whispered, loudly, and Natasha groaned from the sofa closest to the kitchen. 

“These two are out, done, nothing more for them,” she declared, waving her glass of red wine. 

A chorus of yes and agreed sounded from the remaining Avengers. Clint had already fallen asleep across one of the arm chairs, his beer dribbling onto his shirt from the neck of the bottle. Steve and Sam were deep in debate about the merits of Japanese whiskey over original scotch whisky and Tony was watching you both intently, his own glass of Glengoyne warming in his hand. The way the condensation formed under his fingers was fascinating, and you told Bucky as much, pulling him close to your cheek so you could get the same view. 

 “I concur, what did you do to my PA, Barnes?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a bad influence.” 

“She’s not you PA, she’s our PA. So she’s ours to influence,” he returned, proudly. 

Tony just continued to stare, pointedly, sipping his drink.

“What you gonna influence me to do, Buck?” You kicked your legs against the kitchen counter, a picture of innocence, and Tony laughed into his drink. 

But Bucky looked at you very seriously, bent to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck, his leg between yours, muscular and firm despite the fluffy clothes. 

“I’m gonna influence you to steal all of Stark’s M&Ms.” He tried to keep quiet but ended up choking out the end of his sentence around his own uncontrollable giggles. 

“Oh my god, you know he has me take the red ones out, says they’re smug. I have so many red M&Ms in my flat.” 

“Hey, that’s supposed to be a secret!” 

“Wanna eat all the red ones I brought with me?” 

Bucky helped you down from the counter and then across to the pantry where you’d stashed the huge bags of snacks and sweets when you first arrived. Despite Steve’s shouts of leaving some for everyone, you closed the door and sat down, ready to tuck in, wrappers and chocolate littering the floor while you dug about for your favourites. Bucky sat on the floor, encouraging you to sit between his legs, keeping his hands moving over the downy material of your onesie. 

“Okay, Bambi, what’ve you got for me?” 

Before you could even attempt to feed him anything, Steve wrenched the door open, hands on his hips. “I think you need to sleep this one off, not eat more chocolate,” he insisted, waving at you both to get back up. 

“Nuh-uh, Steve, not leaving.” Bucky tightened his arms around your waist and nuzzled into the back of your neck. “You smell like cake,” he exclaimed, happily, ignoring Steve. 

“Sam! Can you help me shift Bucky?!” 

“What about me?” You pouted, holding Bucky’s hands around your waist. 

“You need to go to bed as well.” Natasha extended her hand to yours in an effort to pull you off the floor, but Bucky’s grip was too strong. 

Eventually, it took everyone to wrestle you away from Bucky and bundle you into your room. In the corridor, Bucky howled his anger, breaking out of his room to easily find you in yours. 

“Bambi! There you are! Those awful hunters took you!” he cooed, squishing your cheeks again and kissing your pouty lips. Deep down your brain registered that this was your first kiss with him, that the man who had been consuming your thoughts for months was actually kissing you, willingly, and had broken a door so he could get close enough to do so. 

“Buh-kee, it was just Nat and Tony,” you drawled, your lips moving gently against his, reluctant to pull away. 

“I know, but I didn’t like it, wanna stay here with you.” 

Natasha, who was still trying to wrestle you into bed, gave up. “If you two stay in here together, and stay out of trouble, I won’t say anything.” She pointed at you both, eyebrows slightly raised. 

“Promise I’ll be good, Natty.” You fluttered your eyelashes at her dramatically, hoping to seem more trustworthy, but she just rolled her eyes. “Fine, stay here.” 

And then you were alone. 

You hesitated for a moment, watching the slow movement of Bucky’s face, fascinated by the way the muscles tightened minutely when he smiled. 

“I’m going to kiss you again now,” he stated, so formal that you broke out into another fit of laughter which made you hiccup and grab for his chest to steady yourself. 

He ignored you, bending his head and catching your lips with his, messy and rushed. 

“You taste real nice, you know?” Bucky licked across your lips again, swallowing your giggles. 

“You taste nice too, ate all my damn brownies.” With a long lick up his chocolate smeared cheek, you kissed him back, tangling your hands in his hair, trying to push the too hot, stuffy, fluffy, onesie off his shoulders. 

Bucky shrugged, and sat back to push the material down to his hips. Your eyes followed the movements of his hands, the way each inch of muscle revealed itself and, suddenly, you were hungry again, lunging forwards to bury your face between his pecs. Starting at his sternum, you kissed further and further down, shoving him backwards so you could climb on top of him, nipping and kissing bruises in a slow trail towards the end of the zipper. With a twist of his wrist, his cock sprang free from its confines and you bent down to lick the pearlescent precum leaking from his tip. 

“Fuck, Bambi.” He dropped his head back, one hand gripping the pillows and the other cupping the back of your head while you licked the head like an ice cream. “I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.” 

You sat back on your heels, letting your fingers dance up and down his cock. “Feels soft,” you observed, thoughtfully, “Hard and soft at the same time, isn’t that funny?” 

Bucky couldn’t reply, he just laid back, watching the woman he’d pined after for months finally touch him the way he’d dreamed. It seemed surreal to be here, in your bed, with your hands all over his body like you owned it. Well, he thought, you did own it, you just didn’t really understand that yet. 

“I wanna touch you, too,” he insisted, “Can I?” His hands hovered over your clothes, so close to the zipper his fingertips brushed it when you breathed. You nodded and he lowered the metal slowly. 

Everything seemed slow now, even his voice, mumbling against your skin when he kissed down your breasts and took your nipple into his mouth. When he bit down a little, you giggled, his fingers tickling your sides, until you were both laughing again, half in and half out of your onesies, brains full of cotton wool and lust and nerves. 

“Hey, hey.” You tugged on his hair until he looked up, resting his cheek on your belly. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

“Yes, I’m so good with secrets!” He crawled back over your body, lowering his face close to yours. “You can whisper it or you can do it telepathically.” 

“I’m not telepathic, Bucky.” 

“Sure, like this.” He dropped his forehead to yours. “I know all your secrets now.” 

“No, you don’t!” You shoved him, but he didn’t move. 

“I do!”

“Tell me then.” 

His eyes roamed over your face, from your eyes to your lips as if he couldn’t help it. “You like me.” 

“Everyone likes you, Buck, you just think they don’t.” 

“No you like me, you want to step out with me, be my best girl.” He looked overjoyed to have revealed your secret before you could. “Am I right?”

“Don’t be mean to me, Barnes.” 

“I’m not being mean, I read your mind.” 

“You know what? Fuck off.” You shoved a second time, but he still didn’t move. 

“Wanna read my mind? I’ll help.” His forehead met yours again, sweat beading along your hairline from the stress of being so clearly seen by the man you’d been fantasising about for months. Before you could protest that only he could read minds while high, he was kissing you again. Slow and steady, his tongue nudging your lips gently until you opened for him, throwing your arms around his neck and letting the feeling of petal soft kisses take over you. 

He moved away only enough to take off his now too warm onesie, as well as your own, leaving you both naked and tangled together on the bed. He couldn’t get enough of touching you, he felt buoyant, happy in a way that he hadn’t for months, years, and he never wanted it to end. His fingers tingled when they touched you, though it was becoming harder and harder to stay in control. 

“Bucky, I want you,” you managed to squeak out between kisses, fumbling awkwardly between you both, hoping he understood.

"I want you too.” He nodded, bumping your heads together. 

You wriggled beneath him, guiding him between your legs until he was buried inside of you. 

“Damn it, Bambi, you feel soft everywhere.” His wide eyed expression made you smile.

“You’re kinda soft too, Bucky.” This side of him was one you’d been dying to see, unguarded and playful. 

He nuzzled your cheek and began to move, tentative at first and then faster. In your dreamy state, it was hard to know where you started and ended or how long you’d been locked together. 

You moved as one, slow and steady, enjoying the feel of each other’s warm skin and chocolate sweet kisses, breaking every now and again to stare at each other in awe. 

Bucky seemed to sense your approaching release before you did, speeding up when you fluttered around him, the erratic movement of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge of the bed until you both tumbled out. The pillows and sheets followed soon after, dropping on you in an avalanche of goose down and brushed cotton. 

You both paused in shock, your giggles broken by your fall, but then he was pulling you back down on top of him and holding your hips steady. 

“Bucky, I wanna - I gotta -” Your hand drifted between you again to touch your sensitive clit, just a little more pressure and you could feel your orgasm building. The tightness of your pleasure started between your legs and radiated out to your toes, making them curl against the sheepskin rug beneath you. 

Bucky followed after you, unable to control himself from the onslaught of sensation your clenching heat provided. 

You woke the next day in a tangle of limbs and bedding, your back sore from sleeping on the floor all night and your brain fuzzy. Beside you, still with a smear of chocolate on his cheek, Bucky continued to sleep. 

[parkerslatte]

Clouded | Part One

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: blood and injury. mentions of torture. beron in general.

Summary: Y/N works as a servant in the Forest House when an unfortunate encounter with Eris leaves her without her job with no valid reason. When she is at her small house, Eris shows up covered in blood. Truths Y/N has wanted to know for years come to light.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Part One | Part Two

•••

Y/N tried to carry herself with as much grace as she could muster. At least if she looked like she belonged, people would respect her more. Her servant clothes were ratty and torn, Beron had no care in the world to use his money to supply the servants who weren’t typically seen around the Forest House in a lavish uniform. The only reason Y/N was walking around the house was because her friend had gotten sick so Y/N took on her duties as well as her own. 

The hall was empty when Y/N entered it. No voices were to be heard so Y/N relaxed her shoulders. All she needed to do was get to Beron’s personal kitchens and collect all of the pots and pans to be swapped out with new ones. The only thing Y/N wanted to avoid on her way there was—

She collided with a firm chest and before Y/N knew it, she crashed to the floor, knocking all of the air out of her. 

“Of course it would be you I run into,” a voice sneered. 

Y/N finally looked at the person she collided with and her worry turned into anger. “Out of everyone, why have I been cursed to see your face this early in the morning.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “What are you doing in this part of the house? The last I heard you work four floors below where no one is witness to your unsightly appearance.”

“I am doing my friend's work while she is sick,” Y/N answered. “I guess it is a foreign concept to you. Both work and friends.”

Eris offered a sarcastic smile in return. “I see your comebacks have changed.”

“I see you have changed, for the worse,” Y/N muttered. 

Y/N remembered centuries ago when she once considered Eris a friend— perhaps even more. She thought he was the most amazing person ever. What a huge misjudge of character. 

Y/N held out her hand. “The least you can do is help me up.”

Eris looked around the hallway for a brief moment. Y/N sighed. Of course he would look before being caught touching a simple servant girl. 

The moment their hands touched, Y/N gripped onto Eris’s hand tightly before pulling harshly. The heir of the Autumn Court was swept off his feet and came tumbling to the ground. 

Y/N only intended for him to fall down next to her— not on top of her. Eris’s elbows were braced on either side of Y/N’s head as he saved himself from his entire weight pressing on top of her. His body was perfectly slotted between her thighs. His face hovered over hers, so close she could feel his breath brush her face like a gentle caress. 

Y/N met Eris’s eyes and her heart skipped a beat. She had forgotten how beautiful the colour of his eyes were. 

“Y/N, I—“

Footsteps echoed down the hallway and Eris rushed to get up from Y/N. The moment he was on his feet and straightening his jacket, Beron walked around the corner. 

Eris looked down at Y/N, a scowl on his face. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

Beron cleared his throat. “Eris, is this vermin bothering you?”

“No,” Eris said quickly. “She isn’t.”

“But, you mentioned—“

“I will escort her out, Father,” Eris said and gripped Y/N’s upper arm. 

Before Y/N could say anything, Eris dragged her down the hallway and out of sight. Once Y/N was sure they were alone, Y/N pulled her arm from Eris’s grip. 

“Eris, get off me!” Y/N exclaimed. “I need to get back and do my job.”

Eris only gripped her arm once more and pulled her into a small storage room. He pressed his back against the door. 

“Eris,” Y/N said. “I need to get back to work.”

“No you’re not, Y/N,” Eris said. “You are leaving.”

Y/N scoffed. “I am not leaving. If this is just for pulling you down to the floor and harming your ego—“

“It isn’t about that, Y/N!” Eris snapped. “But you are leaving and never coming back here again. If I ever see you in this house ever again, I will banish you from this court myself.”

Y/N’s heart dropped. “Eris…”

“Go, Y/N,” Eris said. “I don’t want to ever see you again.”

Eris opened the door and gestured for her to step out. Y/N followed, her gaze cast down to the floor. 

“I am sorry, Eris,” Y/N muttered. “But I need to keep this job. I cannot afford my house without it.”

“That is not my problem, Y/N,” Eris replied, straightening his jacket once more. 

“Please, Eris,” Y/N begged. “Out of everyone in this house, you are the one who knows of my situation.”

There seemed to be a flash of regret across Eris’s face but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a sneer. “Y/N, I do not care about your situation. If your father were any smarter then he wouldn’t have gotten himself in debt before he passed, leaving you to pay it all off.”

Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears. “I hate you, Eris Vanserra.”

“I hear that a lot,” Eris said, looking away from Y/N. “It doesn’t sound any different when you say it. Leave, Y/N, before I need to force you.”

Eris sauntered down the hall, leaving Y/N alone in the centre of the grand hall, tears falling down her cheeks. 

***

The following day, Y/N spent hours looking for jobs in the nearest village. Conveniently no one was hiring. The moment she was home, Y/N spilled out all of her savings onto her bed. Although she had already paid over half of her father’s debt, she still had a long way to go. Paying only half had taken her nearly a century with the wage she was on. 

Y/N sighed and slumped down into the small tattered armchair. She loved her father dearly, she always had and she grieved him more than she cared to admit. But she hated him sometimes. She hated him for leaving her with the burden of his debts. 

Before she and her father were cast out in the Autumn Court, her father was well respected amongst the nobles and often spent his time with Beron and his other advisors. He often brought Y/N along and it was there she first met Eris. The heir was an only child at the time so was often bored of playing on his own. It didn’t take them long to form a friendship. They were attached at the hip…until the long awaited consequences of her fathers debts caught up to him. 

Beron offered her father a job in the house to earn money to pay his debts, probably the only kindness Y/N saw the High Lord give at the time. Only it wasn’t a kindness at all, it was simply a death sentence. Beron was well aware of her fathers debts amongst the other nobles and allowed him to fight in his army, completely untrained and unarmed– leaving Y/N completely alone. 

At first she thought she could rely on Eris and she could, until his brother came alone when they were twenty. It was as if a switch flipped within Eris. He went from Y/N’s best friend to someone she hated and despised. He was cruel and cold, despite the fire coursing through his veins. Y/N hated that she still saw him occasionally around the Forest House…well, that wouldn’t be a problem now. 

Y/N tried not to cry as she looked at the money on the bed. She barely had enough to pay for her food for the week. There were times where Y/N debated running away, she debated leaving Prythian completely, somewhere where Autumn had no ties. She could start a new life– a happier one. 

But something always pulled her back. Y/N didn’t know what but she needed to find out. 

A loud thump echoed through her small house. Y/N stilled and didn’t move. What if it was someone trying to claim their money now that they knew she wasn’t protected by the walls of the Forest House? What if they weren’t there for money at all?

Another loud thump, this time more desperate. 

Y/N carefully slid her dagger out from its hiding place and slowly walked to her front door. 

Another thump more desperate than the last. 

“Y/N…” Eris’s voice weakly called out. “Please…let me in.”

Y/N walked faster over to her front door and opened it with a scowl. 

Her dagger clattered to the floor. 

She let out a gasp. 

Eris collapsed into her arms.

***

Y/N panicked as she rushed around Eris to clean up all of the blood covering his body. And from the scent of it, every single drop was his. The rise and fall of his chest was shallow as she cut away his white shirt. Well she assumed it was originally white. 

His pale torso was coated with a layer of blood, some had dried but most of it seemed fresh. The deeper wounds still bled freely. 

Y/N wasn’t sure what to do. She could only heal small wounds and gashes, that was only what her father had taught her. This was extreme but they were too far away from a proper healer. By the time they got there, Eris would be dead. 

“Come on, Y/N,” she muttered to herself. “You can do this.”

She worked on stopping the blood flow from the large open gash in his side. She wiped away all of the dried blood surrounding the area. The gash wasn’t as large as she originally thought but it was deep– too deep for her to deal with. 

Tears pricked Y/N’s eyes. Not only would she be an outcast from the village because of the debt she owed but now she would be an outcast because she let the heir to the court die. 

“Eris,” Y/N whispered. “Please stay with me. Don’t you dare die on me. Not today.”

***

Most of the larger wounds on Eris’s body were cleaned and were slowly beginning to heal. The smaller cuts and bruises were only faintly there now. Y/N’s hands were still stained red from Eris’s blood. She hadn’t moved from her position on her coffee table since she finished sewing up the gaping wound in his side. Y/N was sure she had never been so scared in her life. What would have happened if she wasn’t able to help Eris? There were instances where she was sure he was going to die right there on her couch. Y/N shook her head, banishing the thought from her mind. Eris was alive, the clear rise and fall of his chest gave that away, no matter how shallow it was. 

Despite her uncomfortable position atop the coffee table, Y/N didn’t move, didn’t blink as she watched Eris. His wounds had slowly begun to heal but she still did not trust her own healing abilities fully. If any of the wounds got infected whilst they healed, Y/N didn’t want to wake to Eris dead on her couch. 

Y/N let out a yawn but continued to keep her eyes open. 

***

When Eris finally awoke, it was to a shout of pain. He shot up from his position on the couch, ripping open the wound Y/N had so carefully stitched. His hand flung to his side, pressing down to slow the bleeding. 

Y/N ran into the room, panic flooding her eyes. Eris was confused. Why was Y/N here? His heart beat faster as he surveyed the room. It had been many, many years since he had last been inside this small cabin but he recognised it instantly. Eris only began to panic even more. 

“Of course you wake when I was getting a drink for myself,” Y/N said, sitting down on the table in front of him. “And you ripped your stitches open.”

“Y/N,” Eris gasped. “What am I doing here?”

Y/N wiped her hands down her face. As she shuffled closer, he could identify the dark circles under her eyes that he knew were not there the last time he had seen her. And as she shuffled closer he only now noticed his lack of shirt, bare skin exposed to the air. Shame instantly rose within Eris. 

“You turned up here yesterday evening,” Y/N said, a haunted look in her eyes as her gaze drifted to the side. “You were covered in blood– your blood.”

Eris gulped down air as he pressed on his wound harder, he could feel the blood begin to slither between his fingers as he tried his best to keep it within his body. 

“Here,” Y/N said, the softest Eris had heard her voice in years. “Let me help.”

“You’ve done enough,” Eris said, letting his facade and walls turn to steel. “I can deal with it from here.”

The moment Eris went to stand, he collapsed instantly. Y/N rushed to his side and helped him settle back on the couch. The bloodstained couch. It was a wonder how he was even alive.

“Let me help you, Eris,” Y/N said, more firmly this time. A tone he was far more used to.

“Why?” Eris scoffed. “Because you care about me?”

“No,” Y/N said. If she had any idea of the dagger that word sent to his heart. “I don’t need the heir of Autumn to die on my couch. I’m already an outcast in the village already.”

Eris's eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Y/N.“

“I’m glad I could help you Eris, but why are you here? You threatened me with banishment not even a day ago and now you show up here begging for help,” Y/N said. 

Eris sighed. “I don’t know why I ended up here, Y/N.” It was a lie but Y/N didn’t need to know the truth— at least not yet. 

“Then what happened? You nearly died on me multiple times,” Y/N said, her voice catching. Eris fought the urge to reach out. 

“I can’t say, Y/N,” Eris said, looking at his bloody hands. 

Y/N scoffed. “Eris, you show up on my doorstep close to death and you cannot tell me what happened?”

Eris squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t, Y/N.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” 

“Both,” Eris said, meeting her eyes again. 

Y/N sighed. “Let me see your wound back up.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. I need to leave,” Eris said. 

He tried to stand but the moment he tried, he grunted in pain. His side felt as if it were on fire. 

“Eris, you need to have this stitched again,” Y/N said, shuffling closer. “It won’t heal properly otherwise.”

Eris held her gaze. He could see the gleam of the unshed tears lingering in her eyes. Eris knew they weren’t for him. They were because of him. If he had died within her house, he didn’t even want to imagine what the rest of the village would say about her. He didn’t want to imagine what his own father would do to her. Eris only knew it would be far worse than what was done to him. 

“Fine,” Eris said and allowed himself to pull his hand away from the wound. It was still bleeding but not as much as before. 

Silently, Y/N moved to his side, sitting down on the dried blood. Eris cringed. That was his blood covering the couch. It was his blood covering her dress. 

Eris could barely feel the needle stitching his skin back together. All he did was stare forwards at the small table in the centre of the room. It was the same table as the last time he was in this house, Eris noticed. 

***

511 Years Ago

Eris laughed as Y/N pulled him into her house. It was late at night and the house was empty, her father was working late and Y/N took it upon herself to drag Eris back here. 

“Y/N, why have you dragged me here?” A twenty year old Eris asked as a nineteen year old Y/N dragged him down to sit on the couch. 

“It was your birthday a few days ago,” Y/N said. “And I know that you didn’t do much for it because your mother and father have been fussing over your mothers pregnancy. So…”

Y/N reached into her small bag and pulled out a small box. She handed it to Eris. 

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” Eris said. 

“Well I did,” Y/N said, casually holding onto his arm. 

Eris slowly opened the box and was greeted by the sight of the most beautiful ring. 

“I had it engraved!” Y/N said excitedly. “I know how much you love to be around me…”

Eris rolled his eyes but didn’t object. 

“So,” Y/N continued. “You will always have a piece of me with you. I asked for the gem in my necklace to be split into two.”

Eris read the engraved text on the inner part of the ring. 

“For the days you feel alone…”

“I have a matching one,” Y/N said, taking her own ring out of her pocket. 

“All you need to do is touch the gem embedded in the metal and I will feel it,” Y/N said. “The same with me.”

Y/N slipped her own ring onto her finger. It was thinner than Eris’s ring yet just as beautiful. She lightly ran her finger over the gem and Eris felt his ring heat up the smallest amount. 

“Y/N…” Eris said, looking at the ring in his finger. “How much did you spend on this?”

Y/N shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

Eris looked at Y/N, many emotions overwhelmed him to the point where he couldn’t find the words to say. Despite having a good relationship with his mother, she had never gotten him a meaningful present before. His father never really cared about birthdays so Eris rarely even got a ‘Happy Birthday’ from his father. 

But this gift from Y/N trumped any other gift he had received before, or will ever receive. He felt a tug and his breath was gone for a brief moment. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” Eris said, his finger gliding over the small gem. 

Y/N smiled. “You’re welcome. Now you will always know I am beside you.”

Eris couldn’t think of anything to do but pull her into him, wrapping his arms around her body. Y/N’s arms snaked around his neck, embracing him tightly. 

The scent of her overwhelmed Eris. Her scent was once he could always pick out in a crowd of a thousand. It was comforting for him, it made him feel safe, loved. 

“Y/N…” Eris began, afraid for the words that were about to come out of his mouth. “I love you.”

Y/N’s body went rigid before she pulled away from Eris, an indescribable expression on her face. Eris’s heart sank. 

He quickly avoided her gaze and shuffled uncomfortably on the couch. “I’m sorry. Just forget I said anything.”

Just as he went to stand up, Y/N gently clasped his hand. “You love me?”

Eris met her gaze once more. “I do. I have for a while now, I just didn’t want to complicate things. I didn’t want to lose you as a friend.”

Y/N shook her head. “You haven’t lost me as a friend, and you never will.”

Eris offered a stiff smile. “Well I would prefer it if we just completely forget that this ever happened between us.”

“Why?”

Eris shuffled. “Because you don’t return my feelings.”

Y/N smiled, soft and gentle. “I never said that.”

Eris’s heart skipped a beat. 

Y/N laced her fingers with his. “I love you too, Eris. I never said anything because I thought you would never return my feelings.”

A sigh of relief slipped past Eris’s lips. “You love me back?”

“Of course I do,” Y/N said, positioning her body closer to Eris. “How could I not?”

Eris smiled. “I honestly don’t know what to do.”

“I do,” Y/N said and soon enough her lips were pressed firmly against Eris’s. 

***

“Eris,” Y/N said. “Eris!”

Eris snapped out of his thoughts and turned his attention away from the table in front of him. “Yes?”

“You’ve been staring blankly at the table ever since I began stitching up your wound,” Y/N said. 

Eris looked down and noticed she had already finished. He barely felt it at all. “Thank you.”

Y/N nodded before moving away from him. Despite the fire coursing through his veins, Eris suddenly felt cold. 

“Now are you going to tell me what happened?” Y/N asked as she wiped the blood from her hands. 

“No,” Eris replied, grunting in pain as she shifted positions. 

“Still so stubborn,” Y/N muttered.

“I need to leave,” Eris said. “I don’t want my mother wondering where I disappeared to. And I have other matters to finish.”

“You are not going anywhere,” Y/N said. “Not until you are fully healed anyway.”

“I am leaving, Y/N,” Eris said.

“You can barely stand without causing pain,” Y/N commented.

“I can,” Eris said. 

Y/N folded her arms across her chest. “Prove it.”

“Fine,” Eris said.

This time Eris did manage to get to his feet but the pain all over his body made him sway in place. He felt as if he were being beaten all over again. 

“See,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Sit back down, Eris.”

“I’m not staying here, Y/N,” Eris said as she took an excruciating step towards the front door. “I can’t.”

“Why? Afraid being seen with a servant girl will ruin your image?” Y/N spat.”

“Don’t,” Eris hissed.

“Don’t what?” Y/N said, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Eris said. “You are so much more than that.”

“As if you believe that, Eris,” Y/N scoffed. “For years you have looked down upon me for being a worker in the Forest House. You have sneered at me in the halls. You have constantly belittled me whenever someone sees you talking to me. You act like I am the scum of the whole of Prythian. I can’t believe I loved you all those years ago.”

Loved. 

Past tense.

The one word cut Eris deeper than any other wound on his body. Of course he already knew that Y/N no longer loved him but it didn't hurt any less to hear it come from her mouth. 

“I have my reasons for everything, Y/N,” Eris said, closing his eyes, wishing he were anywhere else. 

“It would help a lot for you to justify them,” Y/N said, her voice cracking. “You were my first kiss, my first love, my first everything. I always imagined what our life would be like together. I pictured it every day. The day my fathers debts were made public, you comforted me, you stayed with me for those first few weeks when it was the hardest. It was in those moments when I realised how deep my love went for you. Everyone else abandoned me, but you stayed.”

“But the moment your brother Tycho was born, everything suddenly shifted. You became a completely different person. You became cruel, distant and cold, not just toward me but to everyone who was close to you,” Y/N said, her eyes brimming with tears. “You became a stranger to me. I thought it was just the stress and gave you the benefit of the doubt but the moment my father passed away and I heard you laugh with your father about it, I knew that beautiful heart inside your body had turned to stone.”

Eris squeezed his eyes shut. “I had my reasons.”

“As you’ve said, but I deserve to know the reason why the Eris standing before me right now, killed the male I was once in love with.” Y/N’s voice broke and Eris dreaded to find out what he would find if he opened his eyes. 

“I can’t–”

“That is bullshit, Eris,” Y/N exclaimed. “I deserve to know why the male bleeding in my living room replaced the one who I shared so much of myself with.”

Slowly, Eris opened his eyes. Tears were streaming down Y/N’s face. Eris’s heart clenched as he fought the instinctual urge to reach for her. 

“It was because of you,” Eris confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I did all of it to protect you from my father and my younger brothers, everything.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked. 

“I have already told you too much, Y/N,” Eris said. “I need to go before my father finds out where I am.”

As Eris turned, Y/N suddenly gasped. 

“Eris,” Y/N said. “Your back…”

He knew what she could see. The scars that littered his back were his own secret, one he preferred no one else knew about, not even his own mother. When Eris had received the beating from his father, he was shocked to discover that he wouldn’t be adding to the collection on his back, but on his torso and chest instead. 

“I told you I needed to protect you from my father,” Eris said before limping out of the small house. 

The moment the cold air hit his skin, Eris hissed in pain. He was more aware of every cut and wound on his body. 

“Eris, don’t walk away,” Y/N begged as she followed him.

“Y/N, go back inside,” Eris said. “And don’t ever talk to me again. I can’t let him anywhere near you.”

“At least stay until you are healed,” Y/N said. “Your power is drained. Are you really going to walk all the way to the Forest House from here? You could die in this cold.”

“Better out there than in your house,” Eris said, each step felt like a rain of daggers. 

“Eris, please just come back inside,” Y/N said. 

“Y/N, the longer I stay here, the more danger you are in,” Eris said. “My father has most likely already sent my brothers after me. I cannot be seen with you. It will only confirm his suspicions.”

“What suspicions?” Y/N asked.

The more Eris walked the more he could feel his energy drain. He dragged his feet along the path to the gate of Y/N’s garden. His legs began to get weaker and weaker and his head spun. He had lost too much blood to be up on his feet this fast. 

“Please, go back inside,” Eris muttered.

“No, what suspicions, Eris?” Y/N asked. 

“Please…” Eris said, feeling himself get weaker. 

He buckled under his own weight and fell onto the cobblestones below him. He could barely lift his arm up. The sound of Y/N’s quick footsteps echoed on the ground and she appeared in his vision. 

“Y/N,” Eris mumbled. “Please, just leave me here.”

“No,” Y/N said. “I told you to stay inside but you didn’t listen.”

“I can’t be seen with you,” Eris siad, his vision becoming blurred.

“I don’t care, I am not leaving you here to die. I won’t let you,” Y/N said.

“I can’t let you get close to me,” Eris whispered. “It was the only way to stop it.”

Eris couldn’t stop the words falling from his mouth. Everything he never wanted to say aloud was coming to light. 

“Stop what? You are not making any sense right now,” Y/N asked and Eris felt the warm caress of her hand on the side of his face. From what he could see, Y/N looked concerned, all the hatred for him had seemed to be wiped clean from her face. 

“Stop the bond snapping,” Eris mumbled, leaning into her touch. “You are my mate, Y/N.”

Eris’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt himself drift into unconsciousness. 

[sugarypinecones]

a panic challenge is busted and having to avoid the cops with dodge… sneaking you into his bedroom while his mom and sister sleep… giving you a rodeo t-shirt to sleep in… maybe making the first move straight away… or maybe going to bed and then waking up a few hours later tangled together in his bed…

we were jet-set, bonnie and clyde — dodge mason x reader

warnings: SMUT(?) he never actually gets close enough but he gets.. pretty close, like cum in your pants close oops but i can do a pt2 i just kinda got confused and unsure how to really.. like do things idk and i kinda hate it but it took so much time and writing i feel bad if i scrapt it, mentions of reader living in texas obviously, reader has no real desire to win panic, whiny desperate dodge, idrk how to tag its late im tired, dayna interrupts without knowing

a/n: oh i love this actually. like actually love this. like im foaming at the mouth thinking about this actually. title from getaway car by taylor swift also, love u all and ty for the request!! 💐💐 also sucks esp the ending but like idk im down to rewrite the ending if not continue the tangled thing! just lmk if you actually wanted it and dont be afraid to leave other requests.

Living in Carp, Texas meant that there weren’t many fun things to do. You can only drive around an empty parking lot for so long before getting bored. So when the opportunity of playing Panic rises, you rise with it.

And surprisingly, you didn’t immediately get eliminated. In fact — you’ve somehow made it this far, round two, which.. you’re sure you’re going to fall to your death or just entirely not do it. And you were fine with that, truly. You had your fun.

Now it was time to focus on something a little bit more real – your chances of winning the pot were low, especially because of all that stuff last year, and because of Dodge Mason.

If you didn’t know what determination was before that boy, you definitely did now. It was hard not to see him and not see determination, especially after the first challenge. He didn’t have fear in his eyes when he did it, unlike any of the other contestants. He had something else.

You shift on the hood of the beat-up car, sighing as you look over your shoulder for any sign of your friends. It was hard to tell through the sea of people — some juniors who were eager to see the game, some graduates who refused to play, such and such.

Dodge’s eyes roamed over to you, taking in the way you fiddled with the bracelets on your wrists and the tight, nervous expression on your face. He knew what you were thinking — he could see it in your eyes. I don’t belong here.

He watched you look around for your friends and found himself wondering why you were alone. Why weren’t you with them?

He seems to recognize you from the first challenge, and when you meet his gaze, he raises a hand. A small smile follows, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling in return.

Something sparked in Dodge’s chest as your lips curled into a small smile — he hadn’t expected a smile in return. Nor had he expected your eyes to soften at the sight of him, or your cheeks to flush a pretty shade of pink.

Maybe he had more of a chance with you than he thought.

The sight of you smiling in return gives him just enough confidence to walk over, stopping in-front of you. It was slightly unnerving, but it felt nice. Exhilarating, even.

He smirked to himself, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to you — and just like that, his bravado returned.

“So,” he started, turning his head to the side to look down at you as he leaned against the car. “Here to root for me?”

Your gaze tilts to him, and you almost laughed. “No, I’m here to win.”

Dodge raised an eyebrow at your response, a scoff and chuckle of disbelief slipping between his lips. He turned around, leaning his hip against the hood of the car, the smirk never wavering from his face.

“Oh, really?” He said, cocking his head to the side. “You honestly think you stand a chance against me?”

He wasn’t sure where all this confidence was coming from - because if it were anyone else, he would’ve just been nodding along with simple responses by now.

You grin. “I know so.”

He let out a hearty laugh and shook his head.

“I’m serious!” You exclaim, although, you really aren’t. You planned to chicken out the second you got called on that death-trap of a beam, no way in hell are you risking your life just to possibly lose in the end.

“Yeah,” he begun, but you shook your head; letting laughs fall from your lips. “No, not really.” You grin up at him, and he acts surprised; but he kind of had a feeling from the start you wouldn’t actually go through with any of this.

“No? What do you mean, ‘no’?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re backing out just like that?”

Your eyes catch on the flex of his muscles as his arms fold over his chest, before flickering back up to his face with a shrug. “I guess—“

You’re cut off by the sound of sirens approaching, closing your eyes as you let out a frustrated exhale. Playing panic was dangerous — watching it, even.

Dodge’s expression quickly turned serious as the sound of sirens filled the air. He immediately turned his head towards the noise, his muscles tense and eyes narrowing.

He quickly looked back over at you, silently cursing how distracted he had become from your presence. He should have been on guard — his focus needed to be on the task at hand, not on some cute girl.

“Cops,” he said lowly, looking back at the police cars approaching.

“Obviously,” you retort, sliding of the hood as you glance over your shoulder. There wasn’t really much places to scatter to, but –

Your train of thought is cut off by his hand on your wrist, pulling you along towards a patch of woods.

Dodge moved fast, tugging on your wrist and pulling you away from the car. He quickly led you towards a patch of woods nearby, trying to put as much distance between you and the cops before they got out of their cars.

He kept his grip on your hand as you ran, his fingers wrapped firmly around your wrist. They were rough — calloused from working on the farm and years of horseback riding.

As they made it into the safety of the trees, Dodge pulled you behind a large oak, pinning you against the trunk.

He quickly retracted, internally cursing himself for doing such. “Sorry, instinct,” he grumbles, although not angry towards you, god, not you.

“You lead a lot of girls away from cops?” You quip, fighting the urge to laugh to yourself.

Dodge let out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. Adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, his heart thudding loudly in his chest.

He’d somehow managed to pull you almost 500 yards within that span of three minutes.

“Yeah, all the time,” he replied sarcastically, his smirk returning as he leaned his shoulder against the tree next to you. “You’re the twenty-third one I’ve led this month alone.”

You roll your eyes, “How charming.”

Dodge chuckled at your eye roll, leaning closer to you and looking down at you. His smirk widened as he pushed himself off of the tree, turning to face you fully.

“Yeah, I’m a real charmer,” he joked, crossing his arms over his chest once more. He paused then, noticing how close he was to you.

He cleared his throat before speaking again, pulling away, partially in fear of scaring you, partially in fear he couldn’t stop himself from asking to kiss you. “So, uh… you got a ride home or something?”

Fuck. No you did not. You hadn’t actually accounted that part down — you came with your friend, who is currently nowhere to be found, if not currently in the back of a cop car.

“No.” You huffed, narrowing your gaze as you looked at him, “I was gonna crash at Natalie’s,” You said, trying to explain your situation, which wasn’t hard to understand to begin with. Came with a friend, planned to leave with a friend, currently 500 yards away from said friend’s car, can’t exactly account to go home, as you told her you were going to bed three hours ago.

Dodge’s eyebrows furrowed at your answer — not out of annoyance, but concern. He knew the cops would be searching everywhere, and you didn’t have a ride home.

He thought for a moment, weighing his options. He couldn’t leave you out here alone until the police left. It was too dangerous.

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair again before speaking. “Alright,” he said, looking down at you. “You’re comin’ home with me, then.”

Your eyes widen, and you seem to swallow as you tilt your head forwards, perplexed. “What?”

Dodge raised an eyebrow at your reaction, his expression shifting to confusion. He was surprised that you seemed so shocked by his offer.

Although, he got it. You didn’t know him well — not outside of school at least. You had seem him a few times, sat by him in a few classes. Thought he was cute, too, but never would’ve admitted that.

“You need a place to stay for the night,” he explained, his eyes locked on yours. “And you sure as hell can’t stay here.”

He paused, eyeing you up and down before continuing. “So you’ll stay at my house. It’s not a big deal.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but quickly snapped it shut, knowing he was right. Spending the night in the woods with the cops searching was a recipe for disaster.

Going home would be even worse.

And yet… spending the night at his house still stirred something within you — anxiety, excitement, curiosity — you couldn’t tell.

“Okay,” You nod, eyes darting around. “Yeah.” You exhale, it was for the better. You weren’t gonna sleep on the side of the road, and you knew Dodge.. to an extent, enough to know he’s not gonna pull an axe on you in your sleep.

Dodge’s face morphed into a sly grin as you agreed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He knew he was probably going to regret this later — he’d never brought a girl to his house before, let alone a girl his mother didn’t approve of.

“Atta girl,” he said, lightly patting your shoulder before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go.”

Dodge stepped away from the protective cover of the trees, gesturing for you to follow him. The coast was clear for now, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

As you fell in step with him, he leaned down to your ear. “Just so you know,” he began in a low voice. “My mom doesn’t know you’re coming over. So.. don’t talk too loud when we get to the house, alright?”

You cock your head to the side, a slight laugh escaping under your breath. “Doesn’t know or isn’t okay?”

Dodge chuckled, shaking his head as he continued walking. “Both,” he answered, his hands still shoved in his pockets.

“She wouldn’t exactly be thrilled to have some girl she’s never met before spend the night out of nowhere.”

You nod, wondering why he’d offer in the first place then. He could’ve left you to get in trouble with your mom, left you to get eliminated, anything else.

“Is that your car?” You tilt your head forwards, breaking the silence that fell over the two teens, eyeing a white car.

Dodge followed your gaze, looking at the car you were eyeing. He nodded, a proud smile forming on his lips. “Yeah,” he said, a hint of boasting in his voice. “That’s her.”

You find it slightly funny that he’s gendered his car.

He quickly started towards the car, reaching it within a few long strides. He pulled the passenger side door open, motioning for you to get in. “C’mon.”

You almost hesitate — but, it’s not like you have another choice — or enough self control.

You hesitated for a moment, looking at the open door before climbing inside. You settled into the leather seat, shutting the door behind you, your stomach twisting with nervousness.

Dodge walked around to the driver’s side and got in, settling into the seat and buckling his seatbelt. He twisted the key in the ignition, the engine of the car coming to life with a low, rumbling purr.

He pulled out of the field and onto the road, navigating the deserted streets skillfully. You sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound being the low hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of gravel beneath the tires.

Dodge glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye, noticing how tense and quiet you seemed. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “You alright?”

You nod. “Yeah, I guess it’s just..” You trailed off, unsure of how to actually describe the feeling.

It wasn’t scary, but it was. You were almost excited, but you didn’t know him well. Any knowledgeable person would be wary, but god, was Dodge Mason cute.

“I don’t know.”

Dodge chuckled, a sympathetic scoff falling from his lips at your failed attempt at putting your feelings into words.

He could tell you were conflicted about all of this — going home with a guy you barely knew, spending the night in a home you’ve never been to before… he didn’t blame you.

He sighed, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Yeah, I’m sure this isn’t how you planned to spend your night, huh?”

You scoff. “Who doesn’t plan to go home with a boy they barely know after cops raid them?”

He shook his head with a grin and looked over at you again, his eyes scanning over your features. Despite the absurdity of the situation, he couldn’t help the fluttery feeling in his chest as he looked at you.

You stayed silent for a moment, your eyes fixed on the passing scenery outside the car window. The night was still and quiet, only the hum of the engine breaking the silence.

“Dodge?” You spoke up suddenly, your voice soft.

Dodge’s attention immediately went to you, his eyes flickering over to glance at you. “Yeah?” He responded, his tone just as quiet as yours.

You shifted in your seat, turning to face him. “Can I ask you something?” you inquired, your expression slightly serious.

Dodge raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued by the sudden shift in your demeanor. “Shoot,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

You paused for a moment, collecting your thoughts before speaking. “Why did you offer to let me stay the night?”

The question had been weighing on your mind since the moment he suggested it. You knew he wasn’t exactly the most responsible or trustworthy person, yet he’d gone out of his way to offer you refuge at his home.

Dodge’s grip tightened around the steering wheel as you asked the question. He expected it, knowing it was bound to come up eventually, but he wasn’t exactly prepared to answer it fully.

The truth was simple — he found you attractive, intriguing, and he was drawn to you in a way he couldn’t explain. But he wasn’t going to say that out loud, not yet.

Instead, he shrugged nonchalantally. “Seemed like you needed a place to stay,” he responded, keeping his tone casual.

Your eyebrows furrowed, sensing the hint of evasion in his answer. You knew there was more to it than that, but you also knew it wasn’t your place to push him for the truth — especially given your options in the current moment.

You let out a sigh, leaning back in your seat and looking out the window again. The rest of the ride passed in silence, only broken by the sound of the engine and the occasional rumble of the road beneath the tires.

After a few minutes, Dodge finally pulled into a long gravel driveway, leading up to a house. The house was modest, but well-kept. Even in the dim light, you could make out the meticulously maintained garden and the freshly painted exterior.

He shifted the car into park and killed the engine, turning to look at you. “We’re here.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt and looked out the windshield, taking in the sight of the house. It was cozy, but not overly extravagant. It looked lived in — a home owned by a family who actually spent time here.

You let out a shaky breath, nerves starting to bubble up inside you once more. This was really happening. You were really going in there.

It wasn’t like regular nerves you’d had before. Not like panic, more like when you’re hanging out with a friend you’ve met for the first time — although, you technically know Dodge.

Dodge could sense the anxiety radiating from you, your nervousness evident in the way you fidgeted in your seat. He let out a low sigh, his eyes flickering over your features for a moment before speaking.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he reassured you, his voice soft. “My mom and sister are probably already asleep, so just stay quiet.”

You nodded, smiling. “Well, let’s go then. I’m tired.”

Dodge returned your smile with a nod of his own, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned his attention to unbuckling his seatbelt.

He pushed the driver’s side door open, the soft creak of the metal mixing with the sound of the crickets chirping in the night air. He got out of the car and shut the door, rounding the hood and opening your door for you.

You stepped out of the car, your shoes crunching on the gravel beneath them. You followed Dodge as he led the way to the front door, your eyes darting around nervously, taking in the surroundings.

He paused in front of the door and fumbled through his pockets, searching for his keys. After a moment, he fished them out and unlocked the door, pushing it open quietly.

He wasn’t exactly worried about making noise - his mom usually didn’t pay mind to him coming late. She figured he’d be home way later in any other circumstances, anyways.

As Dodge opened the door, a warm, inviting light spilled out from inside the house. You followed him inside, stepping into the entranceway and closing the door softly behind you.

The interior of the house was cozy and homey, with warm wood accents and comfortable furnishings. There was a sense of order and cleanliness, but it didn’t feel overly stiff or overly lived-in.

Dodge gestured for you to keep your shoes on, before nodding towards a hallway. “My room’s down there,” he whispered, indicating the direction of a long hallway to the left of the entryway.

You followed his gaze, looking down the hallway. You could see several doors lining the sides of the hallway, presumably leading to different rooms — bathrooms, bedrooms, and the like.

You looked back at Dodge, your heart rate increasing as you realized the implication of his words. His room. Where he sleeps. Where you’ll be sleeping, in close proximity to him.

Dodge noticed the look on your face, noticing the way your eyes widened slightly, betraying your thoughts. He chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension.

“Relax,” he whispered, his tone playful. “You’ll be fine. My room’s big enough for the both of us.”

You roll your eyes, “OK, cowboy.” You step into the open door, taking in the dimly-lit room. It wasn’t much. Just trophies, a wardrobe and a bed and small clutter around the room.

You liked it. You could get used to it.

Dodge chuckled at your nickname, following you into the room and shutting the door behind him. The atmosphere grew more intimate as you both entered the enclosed space, the faint smell of his cologne mingling with the scent of his laundry detergent.

He leaned against the wall, watching you look around with a slight smirk on his lips. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, gesturing to the bed.

You don’t take any convincing, and immediately flop down onto the bed, exhaling at the feel of the differing comfort in comparison to his car and old truck.

Dodge let out another chuckle as you flopped onto the bed, his eyes watching you sprawled out on his sheets. the sight amused him - you looked like a starfish on the soft material of the mattress.

He pushed away from the wall and walked across the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you. “Comfy?” He teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah,” you hummed, a soft grin adorning your face. “although,” you sit up, glancing to him, “wish I would’ve known i’d be having a sleepover. All my stuff is in Nat’s car.”

Dodge chuckled, his eyes scanning over you as you sat up next to him. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for this either,” he retorted, a smirk still playing on his lips.

He thought for a moment, his gaze flicking towards the door and then back to you. “You can borrow something to sleep in, if you want.”

You nod vicariously, laughing. “I am not sleeping in this.”

Dodge chuckled, leaning back on his arms as he looked you up and down. He took in your outfit, noting how out of place it seemed in this setting.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly sleepwear,” he agreed, amusement in his voice. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering over your body before he spoke again. “I got some old T-shirts you can borrow.”

He stood up, walking over to the closet, before tossing a shirt your way. It was larger, but you could tell that it was his. It smelt faintly like him, and you can make the outlines out of a cracked pattern from an old rodeo.

You smiled up at him, appreciatively. “Thanks,” you said, placing the clothes down beside you. “Do you mind if I change here?”

Being caught by his sister or mom wasn’t exactly a want for you right now.

“Nope, go ahead,” he replied, leaning against the wall lazily. “I won’t look.”

You nodded, watching as his gaze shifts towards the closet, adjusting clothes.

You waste no time peeling the clothes off of you, pulling the T-shirt over your body as you exhale, and then pulling the old sweatpants over your body, tying them as tight as you could around your waist.

“Okay.” You said.

He quickly shook the thoughts away, clearing his throat. “You decent?” He asked, looking over at you.

“Yep.” You nod, shifting back on the bed some, “Oh,” you glance away, “you can change too, sorry.”

Dodge chuckled at your realization, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He pushed himself off the wall and walked over to the bed, sitting down next to you again.

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured you, reaching down and grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I wasn’t planning on sleeping in this, anyways.”

He pulled the fabric over his head and tossed it onto the floor, revealing his bare chest.

He knows how badly this could’ve ended - but, he was already here, and honestly the lack of sleep was beginning to make him more bold than he’d like to admit.

Your eyebrows raise, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you met his gaze.

Dodge noticed your reaction, his smirk widening as he caught your laugh. He chuckled in response, his eyes locked on yours.

“What?” He asked, his voice playful. “Never seen a guy shirtless before?”

You shake your head, blinking back shock. “I have,” you note, trying to pretend as if your eyes weren’t raking over his body.

“Just.. wasn’t expecting this.”

Her close proximity was intoxicating, the scent of her perfume filling his senses and clouding his thoughts.

He leaned in slightly, his face inches away from yours. His gaze flicked from your eyes to lips, the desire to kiss you overwhelming any logical thoughts in his mind.

"Tell me," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Tell me you want this. Tell me to, and I will. But I need to hear you say it."

He leaned in further, his lips hovering just above yours, the gap between them practically non-existent.

"I want this," you admitted, barely audible.

Without another word, he closed the minimal gap between them, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.

His hands moved from your cheek to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him.

But it wasn't just about physical need, you could sense. There was a sense of desperation in the way he held you, as if this moment was more than just a passing lust.

As the kiss deepened, Dodge backed you up against the bed, gently maneuvering you until you were trapped between him and the mattress.

His hands moved under your shirt, tracing a path up your bare skin, causing you to shiver against him.

Dodge trailed hot kisses down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of burning desire in their wake. His hands roamed over your body, worshiping every inch of your bare skin.

His mouth returned to yours, claiming your lips in a passionate embrace. He rolled his hips against you, eliciting a gasp from your lips as the friction between your bodies intensified.

With a smooth movement, he pulled away from your lips and moved to your jawline, nipping and nibbling at the sensitive skin there.

“You have no idea,” he rasped, his voice low and ragged with desire, “how long I've wanted to do this.”

His hands moved from your hips to your thighs, gripping the flesh hard as he shifted between your legs.

Dodge took a few moments to admire the sight of you beneath him, your face flushed and lips swollen from his kisses. He couldn't get enough of you, the way you tasted, the way you felt beneath him.

He leaned down to capture your lips again, his hands roaming further up your thighs. His fingers toyed with the waistband of the sweatpants, the thought of going further crossing his mind.

Dodge broke the kiss, panting slightly as he looked down at you again.

“God,” he rasped, his gaze roaming over your flushed face and disheveled hair. “You’re so damn beautiful like this.”

He leaned back down, his breath hot against your ear. “I want you,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “All of you. Right here. Right now.”

His lips moved to your neck, trailing hot kisses down your collarbone as his hands continued to wander over your body. His fingers dipped beneath the waistband of the sweatpants, tracing patterns against your skin.

“Okay,” You nod, “okay,” you repeat softer.

Dodge's breath hitches at your agreement, his fingers stilling. He pulls away just enough to look at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and relief.

"Yeah?" He asks, his voice slightly shaky. "You're sure?"

You nod, “I’m sure.”

Dodge's response is immediate, his mouth crashing back down onto yours in a passionate kiss. His hands move faster now, pushing down the sweatpants and discarding them onto the floor.

He positions himself back between your legs, his body pressing against yours as he kisses you hungrily. One of his thighs slides against you, causing you to gasp into the kiss.

Dodge takes advantage of your moment of surprise, his tongue slipping past your lips to explore your mouth. His hands roam over your bare thighs and hips, gripping the flesh tightly as he continues to move against you.

You can feel his hardness pressing against you, the evidence of his desire evident and urgent. He pulls away from the kiss, panting slightly, and looks down at you.

“God,” he mutters, his voice ragged and hoarse. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

He shifts his hips, pressing against you more purposefully. The friction between your bodies causes him to let out a guttural groan, his head dropping down to bury in your neck.

He peppers your neck with kisses, his lips and teeth leaving behind a trail of marks and bites. He continues to rock his hips against you, the friction growing more and more intense as the seconds pass.

His hands roam over your body, mapping out every dip and curve with fervor. He's almost feverish in his touch, his need for you overwhelming his rational thoughts.

"I need," he gasps, his breath warm against your skin, "I need..."

He doesn't finish his sentence, instead moving to capture your lips in another bruising kiss. His hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly as he increases the pace of his movements. The friction between your bodies is enough to send waves of pleasure through you, the feeling consuming your senses.

Dodge breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to see your face. He takes in the sight of you, hair mussed, eyes glazed over with desire, cheeks flushed with color.

He looks wrecked himself, his breathing labored and his body taut with tension. Every muscle in his body is pulled taught, as if he's holding back from completely letting go.

His grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your skin. He's on the edge, you can tell. But he's still holding back, still trying to control himself.

"I want... I need..." he pants, his words coming out in shuddering gasps. "I need to hear you say it. Tell me I can... tell me you want..."

He trails off, unable to finish his sentence. He's desperate, his need for you almost palpable in the air.

He know’s he’s gotten your permission beforehand, but he needs to be sure.

“Please.” You whine.

Dodge exhales a ragged breath at your response, the sound almost a moan. He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, his body trembling with need.

"Thank god," he gasps, his voice cracking slightly. "Thank god."

He captures your lips in a desperate kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth hungrily. His hands move from your hips to your thighs, spreading your legs further apart as he positions himself against you.

The friction between your bodies is maddening now, the pleasure building with every movement. Dodge bucks his hips against you, causing you both to moan into the kiss.

He breaks the kiss again, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You feel so good," he whispers against your skin, his words sending shivers through your body. "So perfect, so goddamn perfect."

His hands roam over your body, touching and caressing every inch of exposed flesh. He's everywhere at once, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure that spread through your body like wildfire.

You almost whine out at the lack of contact to your body as his hands travel to his belt.

Dodge's hands fumble with his jeans, the frantic motion a clear indicator of how desperately he needs you. He pushes the material down, kicking them off the edge of the bed with a hasty movement.

He's bare now, his body exposed and vulnerable in a way he rarely lets himself be. He positions himself back between your legs, bracing himself above you.

He pauses for a moment, taking in the sight of you beneath him. You're flushed and trembling, your eyes glassy with desire. You can see his gaze flickering over your body, taking in every detail, every curve.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His hands grip your hips again, holding you in place as he rolls his own into you.

The friction between your bodies is enough to drive you both insane. Dodge lets out a guttural moan into the kiss, his grip on your hips tight enough to bruise.

He swears he could come at the sight of this alone, and he honestly might.

A rapid knock to his door stirs him out of his frenzy.

Dodge grunts in surprise, pulled out of his passionate haze by the interruption. He looks up at you, his eyes still dark with desire but confused by the sudden intrusion.

"What?" he asks, his voice slightly hoarse as he called out to his sister in the hallway. "What's wrong?"

“I can’t reach the cereal above the fridge.”

He rolled his eyes, huffing as he pulled your — his, sweatpants over his body.

He raises a finger, as if telling you to wait, and you nod, but you were asleep by the time he finished helping Dana.

[4pfsukuna]

She want a big dawg

Inspo: that trend on tiktok and yall know the one. Somebody made a edit to him to this and i seen the vision. Plus the girlies been saying they tired of smutt so

warning: its purely fluff; 865 word

Being ex military Terry always felt like he was on guard— being a light sleeper, always scoping the scenery out, early morning 6 mile bike rides but there was just something about you that put him at ease.

You were so soft, gentle, always finding the humor in something even if you did have a bit of a dark sense of humor. The scent of coconut always lingered on your smooth skin and your lips stayed pink and glossy no matter how much you licked them. 

The way you thought you could command him to do something even being nearly half his size when all he had to do was give you complete eye contact and you would fold like a lawn chair. All you had to do was bat those pretty brown eyes up at him and that man would build you a house anything to keep that smile on your face.

And in the evenings he loves sitting on the porch with you more specifically he’ll come find you wherever you are in the house, wrap his large arms around you and carry you listening to you rant about your day, or whatever book you were reading or whatever you see on social media.

“She dont want no puppy she want a big dog” you sing for the fourth time since he picked you up holding you with just one arm as if you weighed nothing and he just chuckles at you when you place a bunch of kisses on his face.

“You better chill before you start something mama” he leaves a peck on your lips watching the way you look at him with so much love and admiration like he hung the sun moon and stars in the sky just for you.

Ignoring him you squeeze him tighter in a hug loving the way he kisses the top of your head pulling you closer inhaling his scent feeling the humidity kiss your skin the minute he walks to the porch swing. down south was always warm but nothing could beat the warmth of your embrace.

“Babe, you know how much I love you?” You smile up at him tightening your legs around his waist and he holds your face in both of his large palms pecking your forehead, then nose and finally lips.

“What silly little tic tac trend you trying to trick me into now?” He asks, reading you like an open book watching the way your jaw drops. He knew when you were sweet talking him and what for too— you had been singing that song that one specific part for the past two days. 

“Its tik tok! And what you think you know me or something?” You playfully scrunch your face up pushing your long dark curls that fell from your bun out your face. He chuckles, angling his head down to you watching you squirm instantly. No matter how long yall was together it was certain things he did that still gave you butterflies and made you nervous.

“Baby girl don't insult me, of course i know you” and he pulls you back to him tightly closing his eyes enjoying the sound of nature as day turns into evening. “And i know if you keep pulling away from me imma have to really pin you down”

Terrys love language actually was physical touch, loved having you in his arms, carrying you, waking up in the morning to you still cuddled up to him or when he’s making breakfast and your little arms wrap around his waist grumbling about him leaving you and the bed being cold without him. Or when it’s your turn to cook dinner and he steals kisses knowing you don’t like to be bothered when you cook, always successfully fishing when you swat at him for trying to steal food from the pot. So who were you to deny this time as if your love language isn't spending time together.

You finally settle in his arms, head on his chest yet halfway on his upper arm and he sinks further into the swing slowly rocking it back and forth, left arm running up and down your back unaware of your antics until something catches his ear.

“She dont want no puppy” the music plays and you try to sit up as if he made empty threats tightening his biceps around your shoulders, he definitely was not against pinning you down. “She want a big dawg”

Opening his eyes he looks down at you watching how contempt you look with him squeezing tightly around you not even bothered in the slightest only looking up when you see him looking at you through the camera.

“Ok ok im done go ahead put your old man music on” you giggle happily. you got your video and his muscles were wrapped tightly around you, even placing a kiss on his bare chest before laying back down. Ignoring your slick comment he puts on redbone by childish gambino and like clockwork your hands start running over his back and arms slowly and softly turning him into putty, unraveling his muscles slowly putting him at ease like you always do. 

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 9: Size Kink - Ari Levinson

Summary: Ari was your grumpy (handsome) boss, who never smiled at anyone. So why did he care so much if you smiled at someone else?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, grumpy vs sunshine, arguments, size difference, size kink (Ari is huge in every way), showing off strength, manhandling, spit as lube, fingering, possessive, rough sex

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

It had been a long day already; the sun was beaming down, which meant the bar was packed to capacity, with endless drinks and money being swapped. You thrived on days like this, enjoying the perks an extra broad smile could get you from willing customers who hadn’t appreciated service with a smile. Today, there was one specific customer, Matt, who was sitting on a stool in the middle of the bar and had been complimenting you for the entire afternoon.

He was harmless and continuously gave you tips with every drink, so you plastered a great, broad, fake smile that ached your cheeks every time you went near him. Ari watched from the end of the bar at how you smiled towards the stranger and how the man smiled back, and the second your back was turned, his eyes would be searching your body greedily.

Ari’s hand tightened around the beer bottle to the point that he was close to shattering it and had to take a long breath through his nose to calm himself down. Yet, he continued to watch. He always used the excuse that because he was the boss, he needed to keep a close eye on the goings on in his establishment and his employees, but deep down, he knew there was another reason he was always sitting at the bar rather than in his office.

The liquor you needed for your requested drink was empty as you lifted it to show the customer with a closed-lipped smile, “need a new one”, you quickly explained before leaving out the back of the bar. 

All of the stock was kept in the cellar, so you descended the steps carefully, taking your time to have a quiet moment to yourself. Scanning the rows of liquid against the wall, you sighed, seeing that the one bottle you needed was on the highest shelf, which you would struggle to reach. Straining up on the tips of your toes, your arm stretched out as far as it could, reaching for the bottle, but a searing warmth burned through the clothes on your lower back as Ari pressed against it, using it as leverage to reach above you to grab the liquor easily.

You jumped at his sudden presence but were also not surprised, as he usually found an excuse to follow you throughout the bar. Peering up at him, you exclaimed, “God, Ari, you scared me. Wait, what’s that look for? What’s wrong?”.

He didn’t say a word, but you knew something wasn’t right by the angry scowl, which usually softened whenever you smiled up at him like you were attempting to do now. Unlike behind the bar, this smile was genuine, and the joy reached your eyes, making them appear as if they were twinkling. Ari would always do feats like this, showing off his staggering size and strength so that he could experience this smile to the point that he seemed to be always standing over you, with his towering height that made your neck ache, one of the few people to make you feel small in stature, dainty even, especially when he became all dominant and acting like the resident bodyguard for the bar. Everyone knew not to mess with the boss.

It was hard not to fall for him; sure that everyone who was attracted to a man fell in love with him as soon as they saw him sitting at the bar or over your shoulder. To be truthful, there were times when you faked not being able to lift a table or heavy pot of glasses just so that he could come and lift things whilst you oggled at his psychic, but he was happy to help, even though he always had that deep frown.

The frown that he was currently still looking at you with enough that it had you feeling slightly uneasy as you looked away to the alcohol in his hand, reaching for it. “Oh, thank you! Don’t think I would have been able to reach that anyway.” Your hand extended to grab the bottle, but he held it back and out of your reach.

Ari’s eyes darkened in colour as he stepped forward, and instinctively, you stepped back until you were pressed against the cool brick wall with his towering body hovering over yours, his arm resting above your head. Despite stepping away from him, the stance didn’t phase you. Once again, he was doing it to show off the size difference, and you made sure not to waver with your smile, still beaming up at him.

Ari’s shoulder-length hair fell to shadow his handsome face, and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through the soft strands and brush them behind his ears. Even though he may appear threatening, you trusted Ari with your entire life, and the two of you always seemed to be teetering on the edge of being flirtatious. Still, you’d never have the courage to make a move, mainly because he was your boss.

The giant man studied you for a long moment, inspecting your face to the point you became self-conscious until they lingered on your smiling lips.

“You need to stop smiling at him”, Ari demanded with his voice low and gravely. Your smile finally dropped as you released a choked laugh, causing your shoulders to shake with the force.

“What? Smiling at who?” you asked, dumbfounded. He gestures with his head, nodding towards the stairs and to the bar when it finally dawned on you who he was referring to. Crossing your arms over your chest, you continued, “What? Matt, the guy at the bar? He’s harmless, and didn’t you always tell us that we need to serve our drinks with a smile?” As you teased Ari, you raised onto your tiptoes to lean closer and gloat the broad smile that was back on your face.

He didn’t break, continuing to frown, but now his shoulders were tense. “You need to stop”, he growled, stepping even closer until you could feel the warmth from his chest, “You don’t know what he wants, so stop smiling at him; he’ll get his hopes up”.

“Oh, and you know what he wants, do you? You can’t be upset with me because I’m being nice to a customer, and what makes this smile different to all the others that I’ve given to the others?”. You’d come to the realisation that Ari was most likely jealous, and even though it made your heart pound in your chest and excitement wanting to burst from your smile, you had tried to act like you usually did. Even though seeing him being somewhat possessive and obvious with his feelings made you want to shout it from the rooftop.

“Not. With. Him”, Ari grounds out each word with enough venom that you almost wanted to shrink away.

“Fine”, you say with confidence whilst shrugging your shoulders, “So who am I allowed to smile at then? I like happiness and want to smile at someone who returns it. Who else am I supposed to do it with because you sure as hell don’t smile at me”.

Ari doesn't say anything, so you lift a hand and rest it on his shoulders before tapping with your fingers and resisting the urge to give the muscles that you could feel a good squeeze. “You need to relax a little, Boss, it’s fine. I won’t smile at him, I promise. Now, can I go back to work, please?”

All he does is grunt in answer, giving him a Neanderthal appearance as he holds out the bottle of liquor and moves away from the wall to provide you with room to move past him. Accepting the bottle, you thanked him genuinely before walking back towards the stairs with him only an inch behind.

Returning to the bar, you’d expected him to return to his seat at the end, but he stood behind you, staring at Matt with his arms crossed. You wanted to sigh but thought it best not to poke the bear, as they say, especially when he was so riled up.

Pouring the guy's drink, you passed it to him and stated the price, all without a smile. The customer didn’t look in your direction as he eyed Ari, asking, “What’s his problem?” All you did was shrug in response whilst handing out your hand still for the money. Instead of reading the situation and knowing when to keep his mouth closed, Matt made the mistake of muttering under his breath, “I bet he’s an asshole to work for”.

The money for the drink fell into the centre of your palm just as Ari suddenly was at your back, but you tried to push him back, feeling the heat already burning your face with anger as you pointed towards the door. “Get out”, you demanded confidently.

“What?” Matt shouted, astonished that you’d even say such a thing.

“You heard me; get the fuck out” The adrenaline was deciding your actions as you became increasingly angry at what he’d said about Ari. Slamming the money onto the bar counter, you pointed at the door again for emphasis.

Matt finally snapped, kicking back his stool and slamming his drink on the counter, “Are you fucking joking? I’ve just paid for this drink; I’m not leaving!”

Once again, you weren’t sure logic was in control of your body anymore as you did something so out of character it shocked even Ari. Reaching over the bar, you grabbed the drink and poured it over the guy's head before pointing at the door once more, “You don’t have a drink anymore. I’m not asking again. Get the fuck out of his bar, NOW. You don’t talk about the boss like that”. 

It was a rare day when you truly lost your temper, so the entire bar had quietened by this point and stared in anticipation. Thankfully, even though the guy looked ready to throw his chair at your head, he instead turned and stumbled out of the doors.

As the atmosphere began to return to normal, the realisation of what you’d just done came to you. Your fingers began to tremble as anxiety sat heavy in your stomach as you tried to take a deep, steadying breath.

That burning, warm palm returned to your lower back as Ari dipped his head to whisper into your ear, “My office, now.” Trying to ignore everyone else's stares, you moved past him as he nodded to the other bar staff to cover your area of the bar whilst he followed you out.

You walk, anger still prevalent even with the anxiety worsening as you realise that you’d technically assaulted one of the customers by throwing his drink at him. What if you get reported? What if Ari thinks you’ve gone too far?

You’re nervously chewing on your thumb when you reach his office at the back of the building. You looked around at the scarcely decorated room with a desk, two chairs and closed blinds so that it was only just illuminated by streaks of sunlight but nothing else, so it was dimly lit. Ari hardly ever used this room, which is why you knew you were in trouble, especially needing a private space to reprimand you so no one could hear if he wanted to shout.

Walking into the centre of the room, you jumped on the spot, turning towards the door that had just been slammed closed by your boss. He stalked towards you, head tilted low as he backed you into a wall like in the cellar.

“I’m so fucking done”, Ari seethed, a vein bulging in his temple and tense muscles lining his arms and shoulders.

You were initially unsure what to say, your lower lip trembling as the anger seeped away, and only the nerves remained. “I’m sorry, Ari, I shouldn’t have thrown the drink at him. I don’t know what I was thinking”.

You had lost confidence and lowered your face to look at the carpeted floor, but Ari was quick to grip your chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilt your face so you were looking back into his bearded face. His voice was low and steady as he spoke, “I am so fucking done with this bullshit cat-and-mouse game we have going on”.

This caught you off guard as you blinked away the anxiety, asking, “What?”

Ari dipped his face even lower, and you took a moment to appreciate how big he was and how much lower he had to make himself so that you were face to face. With him this close, you could smell the aftershave he’d sprayed onto his neck this morning, smelling spicy and had your mouth drooling.

“I’m your boss”, Ari interrupted your dirty thoughts, “It’s unprofessional the things that I dream about, but you make it so fucking difficult to remain your boss when you’re smiling all the time. I want to kiss that smile away so you can return to work and stop distracting me. But today, seeing you there shouting at that asshole for me. I can’t stay professional much longer, so here’s your chance. Leave and walk out that door right now, and we’ll never talk about this again, but if you stay”, his eyes lowered from your lips to assess your body in the darkness. “If you stay, I promise you there will be no other thoughts than my name coming out of your pretty little mouth”.

Ari gave you a moment to contemplate and decide. You, however, were not thinking at all, your mind was empty, and the only response was the warming of your cunt, clenching already around nothing as you knew there was no way you were leaving.

Your arms wrapped around his neck before any of your anxiety returned, pulling him down for a heated kiss. Mouths moving with need against the other, causing Ari to moan; actually, MOAN into your mouth as his lips instantly parted and warm tongue brushed against yours. His arms were around your waist, pulling you as close as possible until your breasts were squished against his firm chest.

It felt like your boss was completely surrounding you as his arms expanded over the area of your back, just as firm as his chest, and you could feel the muscles bulging beneath his plaid shirt. Your feet were suddenly off the floor as he lifted you into his arms, your legs securely wrapping around his waist as one of his arms rested beneath your arse as your back connected with the wall again.

He tasted so good, even though it mainly tasted of the beer he’d been drinking; you’ve fantasised about this moment for months. He was just as dominant as you’d predicted, his mouth forcing yours more open to caress his tongue further into your face, almost like he couldn’t reach far enough within and needed to feel every crevice. The hand that wasn’t supporting your weight then moved to your cheek, his long fingers stretching so far they wrapped around the back of your head as he tilted your head slightly to once again attempt to deepen the kiss.

Ari’s jean-covered hips then ground against yours, stoking the fire inside your cunt more. His actions were desperate, wanting to feel every single part of you. It was almost overstimulating to your senses because all you’d managed to do was keep up with the pace of his tongue and lips and stroke your fingers through his hair just as you wanted to do. But Ari, he was all over you, his mouth now exploring your throat, sucking and biting on the areas that made you moan more and send tingles between your thighs.

The sound of clothes ripping then echoed around the office as Ari had become frustrated with the amount of clothes you wore that was stopping his exploration. Your shirt disappeared with a single tear down the middle and then disintegrated onto the floor. Once again, he was showing off his strength, and you really didn’t care, completely and utterly, at this disposal, especially when his mouth was now sucking on your left nipple.

He lapped against the sensitive bud with his tongue flat, then sucked it into his mouth, a tight seal forming with his lips before gently biting with his sharp teeth, causing your back to arch and fingers to grip more firmly into his locks. Ari moved to the other breasts as his fingers then replaced his tongue with the wet breast, pinching and pulling until you were begging for him to touch you there.

Your mewls were not stifled at all, head tipped back and mouth wide open; nothing was filtering your volume, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you were thankful that the bar was so busy that the music and talking would hopefully cover your moans of joy.

“Ari! Please give me more!” Pulling on his slightly damp hair from the sweat, you forced his face away from your breasts so that you could devour his mouth. His hips thrust harder into yours, and even though you were both still clothed, you could feel the hardness waiting for you in his tented jeans.

Tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth,  Ari groaned and asked, “Tell me you want this, one last chance to change your mind”.

“I need this, Ari, don’t stop”.

Your back left the comfort of the wall as he began to carry you over to his desk, holding you up with one arm. The other wiped any objects onto the floor, giving him the area to lie across.

The wooden surface was cool and welcoming as he again started kissing you, both hands cupping your jaw, holding you firmly in place. Lower he moved, down your throat, collar bones and breasts. As he licked over your stomach, he finally reached to undo your jean button. As he kissed lower, he pulled the material down with him, and only when you felt startling bare did you realise that your underwear had been removed as well.

Sitting up onto your elbows, you silky commented, “You’re wearing too many clothes”. You’d wanted to explore his body with your mouth, but he was just so tall and muscular that you weren’t able to reach him even if you sat up entirely on the desk, so with a rush, you pulled on his shirt, attempting to help remove it from his body and then the same with his jeans. You noticed how his muscles were defined as they became revealed; his abs, covered in a sprinkling of hair, had your mouth watering to touch and lick, but you became distracted by what was between his legs.

Ari Levinson was fucking huge. It was definitely the most enormous cock you’d ever been with, and it shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. His shaft was thick, and a few veins bulged like he had in his temple when mad. The tip was bulbous, glistening in precum and a deeper shade of red than the rest of his cock. Even his balls that rested beneath his length seemed more prominent than usual, and for a fleeting moment, you contemplated if it was even going to fit.

Seemingly reading your mind, Ari grasped the base of his cock that seemed to throb as your eyes moved up and down it, “Don’t worry, Princess, it’ll fit”.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you wanted to tease him a little, so you leaned forward to kiss the tip, your lips becoming salty from his juices. As you licked up the taste, Ari hissed in a breath and pushed against your chest until you were lying lengthways against the desk once more.

As he had been before, Ari manhandled you with ease, lifting one of your legs until it rested on your shoulder. You thought he was going to start fucking you straight away; however, he was just giving his hand a better position. Whilst keeping his eyes on yours, Ari spits a glob directly onto your already-soaked pussy, collecting it with his index finger before pushing it into your cunt. Your back arched into the touch; even his fingers felt thick and made you feel full. He twirled his digit, doing this mostly to stretch and pleasure you. That could be for another time, but right now, he needed to fuck you but respectfully not hurt you either.

One finger turned into two as he added his middle digit, scissoring them both, which made your hole squelch from all of the liquids. One more finger was added, and you felt fuller than ever before. The entrance to your pussy burned slightly from having three of his fingers coaxing you wider, in and out slowly, whilst turning and opening your hole. Your thighs were trembling from the stimulation already, breaths hot and heavy as you gripped the edge of the desk above your head.

How did you even end up in this situation with your boss in his office, customers and staff just outside the door as his fingers pumped into you with expert ease to attempt to fit his cock.

Your leg dropped from his shoulder, but only so he could wrap them both around his waist as he moved closer, a hand next to your head whilst the other gripped the base of his cock as you realised he was finally, at long last, lining up with your throbbing cunt. Reaching you, your fingers dig into his shoulders, gripping him like you’d always dreamed of as his tip slotted to your entrance.

Slowly, he began to push in, and your cries turned desperate. It burned more than the three fingers; his cock was so girthy and thick that you had to concentrate on taking deep breaths to remain relaxed. Inch after inch, he pushed in, and even though the burn didn’t fade immediately, you already loved the sensation of it. It was intense but something only he could provide for you, and with time, your body adjusted, and soon you were trying to rock your hips. Even though he wasn’t even fully penetrated, his tip was pushing into your cervix.

“Ari, you’re so fucking big, Jesus Christ!” your mouth dropped open as high-pitched cries filled the thick, pleasured air.

For one beautiful second, Ari actually chuckled at your desperate reactions, wanting to stay in that moment forever, seeing you laid out beneath him like his own personal platter.

As your warm, gummy walls clenched around his cock did he snap out of his admiration. Still being careful, he moved in and out slowly and held onto your waist tightly to keep you from sliding down the desk with how tightly your cunt was hugging his cock.

Eventually, you became used to it a bit more, which meant that you began to beg for it harder, needing to feel him closer, so he dropped himself down until his lips were next to your ear and his hand around your throat to hold you still.

“You’re mine, do you understand that?” he growled with a promise never to let you go.

That beautiful grin he loved so much was suddenly beaming up at him, your fingers moving to grip the wrist that was golding your throat as you declared, “I’m all yours, Ari Levinson”.

“Fuck, I love that smile”, he admits between thrusts, his eyes unblinking so that he didn’t miss a single twitch of your face as it flooded with pleasure. However, his need to taste you took over once more as he kissed you deeply, groaning and squeezing your throat a little harder but not enough to cut off your air.

The wetness of your pussy leaked over your thighs as his desk wobbled with each thrust. Your entire body felt like it was on fire which all resonated down to your core, feeling it tighten to match the hardening in your gummy walls, suffocating his cock further in its harsh grip. 

“So big, you’re so damn big, Ari, fuck I’m going to cum”, you shouted, pulling on his hair to snap his head back so that you could breathe and shout out between thrusts. He leaned up on his arm to watch your reactions again, from the furrowed eyebrows, eyes wide and pupils blown, the swollen lips that were forming the perfect O shape as you finally came.

Your cunt had been stretched so wide that when you came, you could feel it more in your abdomen than the contractions that usually fluttered through your walls.  The orgasm, therefore, lasted longer because you were overstimulated and confused with the sensation. Still, even though you couldn’t necessarily feel how your pussy squeezed, Ari sure could as he cursed loudly, releasing your neck to slam his hand on the desk as he unexpectedly pulled out just as he began to cum.

Looking between your bodies, you watched in amazement as thick spurts of his seed shot out the end of his cock and coated your stomach. With his cock now resting over your body as he shouted through his orgasm, you could see that if he had been able to fit his entire cock inside of you, it would have reached your navel. It was that big.

As both of your moans quiet to just heavy breathing, your head dropped back onto the desk, arms and legs having no more energy, also collapsed to your side. Thankfully, Ari could see the exhaustion you were experiencing, and once he’d calmed down enough, he found a box of tissues on the floor and gently wiped away the mess he’d created on your stomach.

Peaking open an eye, you looked down your body towards where your boss knelt, “I hope you aren’t expecting me to go back to work.” your voice was thick and croaky as you smiled down at him. His blue eyes flicked up to your tired face as he raised a single eyebrow, midwipe, so you continued, “I don’t think I can walk, and you’ve ripped my shirt”.

Ari smirked, standing up again to throw the tissue into the bin. He looked your body up and down, “You know, you could just wear my shirt”.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’ll go down well with everyone like it wasn’t already obvious that we’ve come in here for a quick fuck”.

His body leans forward, hovering over yours, all bulging muscles and hulking size making you feel small again as he confidently states, “Well, they better get used to it. You’re mine, remember?”.

[kingtomura]

Good Girl

Summary: It’s not your fault that your boyfriend was hard for people to warm up to. God, your parents are so lame. But so were you. So you did what anyone else with strict parents would, and you cut him off. 

Bad idea. 

Word count: 4k

part two is here!

Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, explicit content, kinda quiet sex, cunnilingus, praise, slight humiliation, unprotected sex, strict parents, toxic relationship with parents, AU - no quirks, no use of y/n, gets a little mushy at the end im sorry

You would rather be anywhere else but here. You would pay to be anywhere else but right here, right now being scolded like some teenager who had been caught sneaking out after curfew. But you were here and you weren’t going anywhere any time soon. 

“He’s just not good for you,” your father’s voice stressed. It dragged on, pulling you from your drifting thoughts. “You have so much ahead of you and we even agreed to this gap year so that you could figure out what you wanted to do, not so you could run around with some delinquent boy with no future–”

“He‘s not a delinquent,” You cut off, “you’re judging him without even giving him a chance.”

Your father sighs, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, but knowing you inherited his stubbornness has never detoured him from taking your objections head on. He’s been on this earth longer than you, butting heads with others longer than you have. “Well, whatever he is, he’s not allowed to see you again. That’s final.” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. False air of nonchalance sending fury through your veins. 

There would be no more arguing and you knew it. You desperately look to your mother, who is in her usual stance of resignation and uselessness when it comes to his word. If she saw things your way, she would never say. And even if she agreed with you, there would be no change. It has always been your father’s way or no way. 

“I’m an adult, you can't tell me who I can and can’t see.” you try once more, not ready to end things here. It’s suffocating. 

He scoffs, bringing a hand up to count his fingers, “You live under our roof, you eat our food, you drive our car, you give me attitude when I agree to give you time to figure out your life when you decided to leave university after two semesters,” his voice is rising and you begin to feel your eyes burn with the threat of tears, your chest tightening as its harder to catch a breath. You can’t cry here, it would only make things worse.  “I don’t think it matters how old you are. I am done with this conversation. End things with him now or you won't have a pot to piss in by the end of the day.” 

This cannot be happening. You're still sat on the plush sofa of the living room as your father stalks off with your mother in tow. The latter only glancing back with an empty look of pity as you stare at where your father had just been. Words burned into your mind while hot tears finally break and run down your cheeks. This is really happening.

And Tomura was going to be upset.

In a perfect world you could meet up with him tonight, talk it over, or even run away together and leave all this behind, but you know better. You know the two of you haven’t dated long enough to warrant running away together, but it still crosses your mind. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before and it's painful to think you never will again. Tomura just made you feel so.. Alive. There was so much to him and his witty dry humor that keeps pulling you in. 

He’s cynical, he’s moody and sometimes he’s mean but god he could be so soft. Touch you in ways that felt like he reached your soul. Quiet nights where you would stay at his house and watch him play video games would turn into late night sessions of making love until the twilight of dawn peeked through the dark curtains of his room. There was no way you could let him go. But you had to. You had to. Your father had given you no other choice. So you take the coward’s way out.

You text him.

You send him a short text that would send you to the bathroom dry heaving, but you didn’t know what else to do. What more could you say other than your father had snapped at you and you both could no longer be together. It would hurt so much more facing him head on. You knew that if you had to speak to him face to face that you would crack, probably throw out your silly idea of running away together and then face the awkward rejection. This was all you could manage. You felt awful for it, finally forcing yourself off of the floor and dragging your feet to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

It had been hours and there was no response from Tomura. You couldn't blame him. What could anyone say to a break up text? You hollowly hoped he would fight for you. Even a little. But the flat Read 14:57 showed you otherwise. This had now become a heartbreak you werent quite expecting. You couldn’t help but second guess every interaction you had with him before. If maybe you read into things a little too deeply. If maybe, some smaller, quieter part of you dreaded your father was right.

There was no use of dwelling on that now. No point in running through what you would never know. So, you sighed, and finished up in the bathroom. Slipping on your silk sleeping gown that stopped above your knees and adjusted the small straps on your shoulder. You had cried for hours after your argument – if you could even call it that– with your father was over and your face ached. The bags under your eyes showing the worse for wear state you had found yourself in. it would be okay, you told yourself. You just have to sleep it off. 

And that was your plan and you slid into your welcoming bed, soft comforter embracing you and your worn feelings. You feel more tears begin to sting behind your eyelids before there's a sudden tap at your window. 

A trick of the wind, you decide and return to your somber thoughts. 

You would have to move on eventually, but tonight? He was the only thing on your mind. His eyes, his hair, the way he would feign annoyance when you were overly touchy, craving closer contact. He always indulged you. Always gave you more, you knew he liked it as much as you did. You were lovesick. 

Tap. 

There was that noise again. Louder than before as if someone had thrown a rock right at your window. The room was still and quiet so you knew it hadn’t been your imagination. 

Jumping to your feet and shuffling towards the window in question you brushed your curtains to the side to see the possible culprit. And when you do, your heart drops and instant regret fills you. Stomach aching as you take in the sight before you.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki and he is pissed.

Tomura, your Tomura leering up at you with another rock resting in his hand, bigger and ready to be tossed at your window if the last attempt didn’t work. 

You look around, knowing no one is in your bedroom but yourself and the moonlight, then go to open your window, ducking your head out to get a better look at him. There he was, black hoodie oversized and so soft, red eyes burning in anger but you aren't scared. You’re relieved, it's him. He's here to see you, mouth turned down in a scowl and fists clenched in fury but he was here. 

You couldn’t stop your hushed whisper, “what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk.” Was his only reply before he dropped the rock and walked towards your window. It wasn’t terribly high up, but higher than he could reach without a bit of help from you. 

Now that he was closer you could see the anger in his posture much more clearly. All tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. It was enough to make your stomach turn. You couldn't help but worry your bottom lip as he pulled out his phone and took a step closer.

“Really? Over a fucking text message?” He hissed, rasp in his voice, uncaring of the time of night or who could hear. 

“Tomura, shh, please–” you tried, hands coming up to placate him, if only a little. Your father would have your head if he heard another man in his home, let alone Tomura Shigaraki. 

He huffed a sarcastic laugh, disbelief taking over his features, but he obliged, “I don’t care what your father told you. He can’t control who you talk to.”

You shake your head, the all too familiar sting of tears in your eyes threatening to fall, “I know. I told him that, but he threatened to kick me out, to cut me off. I’m sorry Tomura, but I can't.”

“He can't do that.”

You nod, knowing all too well that your father would go through with his threat. “He can. Technically. I'm an adult, so it’s his choice.” The tears fall now, seeing the rage dissipate from Tomura, slight drop of his shoulders showing disbelief and disappointment. It's too much. This is why you didn’t want to see him, couldn’t face him. “I'm so sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold in the sobs threatening to wrack your body and possibly wake your parents up. This could not have ended worse.  “I don't want it to be this way.”

“Wow, I didn't know you were such a good girl.”

Your breath hitches, caught off guard, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “I didn't know you did everything daddy says. What a good girl you are.” The tone is one you’re familiar with. Condescending. Challenging. He’s testing you.

Your cheeks flushed. What could you say? That you’re not a good girl, actually. Then what would that make you? A bad girl? You would walk right into his trap. He’s watching, waiting for a response. Something to make you slip up. 

You don't have the chance to respond before he’s taking a step forward, lifting your chin with a finger so that you could look him in the eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the room those crimson eyes looked into your own. Like he was delving deeper, looking for the response that you can't seem to give him. Nothing else matters in this moment. It’s just him and you and the pale moonlight dancing between you. The air is tense and unmoving, like the smallest noise, the faintest blow of wind would ruin this moment. 

You couldn’t take it, couldn’t wait another minute before your body moved, leaning forwards onto the tips of your toes to give you more leverage as your lips pressed to his. His lips were still cold and dry from the cool air outside but that didn’t matter. Nothing matters more than knowing you needed more of him and you needed it now. Tomura’s hand came to rest at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer and the kiss deeper. Taking all of you in as his other hand gripped your waist. 

Your hands wasted no time burying into his hoodie – so soft and worn–  the faint smell of citrus and cedar being a comfort as the intoxicating kiss deepened. Tomura wasted no time, slick tongue entering your mouth, hungry, like it was the last time you would have him this way. It was too much. It was not enough. You broke the kiss, a string of saliva following the short distance you put in between. Air seemed sparse, like you couldn't get enough and Tomura spoke before you could.

“Get on the bed.” 

And you did, newfound vigor in your step as you eagerly did as what you were told. Energy ebbing through your veins as excitement overtook your previous anxiety. Tomura was a mere step behind, discarding his hoodie without care and joining you on the bed, caging you beneath him as he dove back in for another kiss, wet and warm, before trailing lower. Open mouthed kisses to your jaw, then neck, his hands, rough and warm gripping your thighs, taking in all he can. After leaving a particularly hard bite on your neck, Tomura lifted your gown up, smooth silk gliding with ease above your ass and resting below your breast. It was only natural for your legs to spread for him, cool air on your bare cunt making you shiver. 

“Oh?” An amused huff from the man above you makes your cheeks heat further than before. He’s seen you like this many times before, but he’s always had a way of making you feel shy. “No panties, huh?”

You push past your embarrassment. “You know i dont wear them to b– ah!” you're cut off by the feeling of his finger sliding between your folds, slick making it glide, and rubbing over your clit. The surprise of the motion makes you press your thighs closer together. Tomura grins above you, before bringing his wet finger to his mouth, a mocking shh following the motion, tongue flicking out and licking the digit as his other hand pushed your legs apart again. 

He bends down, bulge in his sweatpants pressing against your bare cunt. He’s so hard and that thought only makes you wetter. Tomura’s nose brushes yours, your eyelids fluttering shut as he dives to kiss you again. All open mouthed and wet. You could taste yourself on his tongue as well as feel the pressure of his clothed erection grind against you, rubbing against your bundle of nerves. You are sure your slick is dampening his sweatpants but Tomura doesn’t care. He’s grinding you into the mattress and you’re so close to begging him to get on with it you want to scream. But almost like he’s read your mind, he pulls away. 

The kisses he places along your body set your nerves on fire, anticipation eating away at your patience as he takes his time. Once he’s reached his destination, right between your thighs, he places one wet kiss onto the plush of your inner right thigh. Another teasing move. Another way to make you squirm in excitement. He looks up at you, ruby eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the room. 

“Be quiet for me, yeah?” 

Tomura huffs a laugh at your eager nod, grin growing wider. So quick to please. Dedicated. “Good girl.”

The praise makes you falter for a second, embarrassment threatening to make its way to the surface once more. There was no time for it now, Tomura enjoyed catching you off guard. Loved surprises. He wastes no more time, tongue licking a wet strip between your lips. The action causing you to moan louder than you intended. Your hand rushes to cover your mouth. If you were to be caught in this predicament by either of your parents it would be horrendous for the both of you. 

This doesn’t stop Tomura, though. If anything you were starting to think it encouraged him, because his relentless pace on your cunt was driving you wild. His long stripes simmered into just the tip of his tongue flicking your clit and  sending jolts of pleasure roaring through you. You were already close, pleasure and pressure building and building until you were so close to tipping over– 

Knock knock.

“Hey sweetie. I know it's late, I just wanted to talk for a second.” 

It was your mom. Holy shit it was your mom and there's a boy in your bed with his head buried between your legs and holy shit. If she opened the door, if she barged into your room in the familiar way she always had a bad habit of doing, you would be done for. With wide eyes and accelerated breaths, you clamped down harder over your mouth with both hands. Even Tomura stopped in his tracks, gaze lazily focused on the door with curiosity bleeding into his indifference. 

Your mother must have taken the silence as a sign of slumber, yet she continued. Voice muffled by the door between you both. 

“Your father... was harsh today. And I’m sorry for that.” She pauses, long enough for you to believe she would be giving up and going back to her bedroom. You aren't so lucky, surely at this point you were very unlucky and you dreaded whatever else she had to say. “I just want you to know that he just wants the best for you.” your heart drops as she carries on, unaware and unconcerned of the other pair of ears listening in to her words. “We don’t know him that well. We can't risk you getting involved in something you're not ready for and throwing your future away.”

At this, Tomura rolls his eyes, interest clearly lost and goes back to his earlier movements. The sloppy kiss to your clit catches you off guard and forces a whine out of you. It was small, but still a noise. Squeezing your eyes shut you prayed this would be written off as an odd sleep noise. Wishing to the sky that it wasn't noticeable and Tomura would stop. He didn’t. It was in that moment he decided pressing a finger against your entrance would bring out more noises. The digit slipping in with minimal effort and adding more pleasure to this mix as he sucked your clit. 

If your mother heard anything, she didn't make it known. The floorboards outside of your door creaking with the shifting of her weight. “Well, maybe we can get ice cream or something tomorrow. Have a little girl’s day?” The silence is palpable as she waits for an answer that won't come. “Okay well, goodnight sweetie. See you in the morning.”

You don’t know what you're more grateful for; the sound of her receding steps or that fact that Tomura wasn't cruel and waited until the telltale sound of a door opening and closing rang through the air before adding another finger and curling them. This time you couldn’t bite back the moan that escaped you, hands gripping the cotton of your duvet. 

“Aw, how sweet,” Tomura started, sitting up while adding a thumb to your sensitive nub and rubbing slow circles to replace his mouth. “She wants to have a little girls’ day with you.” 

His mocking tone would have gotten a reaction out of you any other time, but right now you were so close. On the precipice of an orgasm that’s been drawn out for far too long. You could only look at him with half lidded eyes as his fingers worked like magic sending you closer and closer, your breath hitching as you finally, finally reached the climax. Body shaking pleasure cascades over you like a tidal wave. 

“There we go,” Tomura whispers, giving your cunt a playful tap after letting you ride the sensation out. He pulls away completely to take off his sweatpants and underwear, cock already hard and leaking. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips at the sight and you hear his breathless chuckle. “I’ll let you have a taste next time, but right now, I can't wait any longer.” 

It was only when he began to line up with your entrance that you absently wondered about the lack of condoms you owned. You look up at him, question burning on your tongue but he only grins at you, and you swore in that moment he was a mind reader. “I didn’t bring any with me, sorry,” his voice was far from apologetic as he stroked his cock, rubbing the head between your folds and against your clit, slick soaking the head. “But don't worry,” he continued, leaning forward and you felt the pressure at your entrance, excitement buzzing through your veins. “I’ll pull out.”

Whether you believed him or not didn’t matter, you had no time to process a thought as he began stretching you to the limit with his size. A gasp escaped your parted lips as the sickeningly sweet feeling of being stretched too far too fast took over. He gave you a minute to adjust, even as his cock twitched in anticipation of movement. The grip he had on your hips was tight enough to bruise and you knew it was taking a lot of his self control to wait for you. 

He pressed on, figuring it had been long enough and bottomed out with a sigh. Your walls clenched around him and swore you could cum from the stretch alone. After giving you a second to breathe he pulled back, almost pulling out, only to snap his hips back forward into you. Your head lolled onto the pillow, hand coming up once more to mute the moans dragging from your body. Tomura hoists your legs onto each side of his shoulders,bending them forward and successfully folding you like a lawn chair as he started his aggressive pace, forcing your tight heat to clench around his cock. 

“Oh, fuck…” you couldn’t help but mutter as you struggled to hold off your already approaching orgasm. 

Tomura saw this as a challenge. “What? You gonna cum on my cock?” he mocked, pace wild and rough, leaving you gasping as you shut your eyes, not ready to admit how right he was. “It's okay,” he continued, leaning closer and allowing his dick to press deeper inside you. The drag hitting the bundle of nerves inside and nearly sending you over the edge. “Come on, cum on my cock like the good girl you are.” 

Those words push you over, hips convulsing as your legs shake and it takes Tomura slapping a hand over your mouth this time to quiet you. You couldn’t focus on anything else, let alone keeping quiet. Your body felt light and Tomura fucked you through it. His pace grew more erratic as his grinning face became one of focus, brows furrowing as his eyes shut and he focused on his pleasure. Your pussy squeezing around him making it harder for him to stave off his own nearing climax. You were worried that at this point you were both too far gone. The silence of the home would leave the messy noises between you both loud and clear for the entire house to hear. Tomura was great at keeping his composure but the soft groans coming from your lover only showed how much he was losing his grip. 

“Can’t– fuck, sorry–” you didn’t have time to decipher his strange words, your curious eyes meeting his face to gauge his expression before you feel it. 

His cock twitches inside you, seed painting your insides white as his thrusts didn't slow. He was hammering away at your insides, only pumping his cum further into you.  You feel so full, the warmth spreading over your body like a blanket. He came in you. Even though he said he wouldn’t, he did. The worst part about it? You don’t care. It's invigorating. You feel even more attached to him. Even closer. You want more.

Overstimulated and weak, you whimpered, thoughts swimming as Tomura finally came down from high. Slowing his thrusts and panting heavily. Your heart is drumming against your chest as he removes your sore legs from his shoulders. Shuddering as he slips out of your tight heat, feeling the cum dripping out of you and onto your sheets. 

The bed dipped as he took his place next to you. Out of breath and eyes focused on the ceiling. Your ears were ringing with the sudden quietness of it all. Things felt different, heavy. 

“You could always just not tell them.” It was Tomura who broke the silence first. “Act sad, mope around, and then come see me at night.” 

You glanced over, vaguely registering the sweat cooling on your body. You would need to get up and get cleaned up soon. “Yeah, but if they catch me–”

“They won't. I’ll teach you how.” he turns towards you, bringing a hand to your chin to make you face him. There’s a fuzzy feeling turning in your chest and the familiarity of heat rising to your cheeks is starting to drive you mad. His grin is enamoring, red eyes almost glowing with mischief in the moonlight. “I’ll show you the ropes.” 

There's an ache that tugs at your chest as you nod. “Okay.”

You are so fucked.

[golden1u5t]

mirrorball | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: fluff

ꨄ summary: spencer notices how you put other people before you all the time so he decides to do something special for just you.

"oh- um- here, elle. you can have it." you lowered the mug from your face, passing it to her with a fake smile on your face. you had fixed the last tea bag in the office's kitchen and just as you brung it to your face elle walked in talking about making her a cup of tea, only to see that there was no more. so, like you always do, you offered your cup to her.

"are you sure?" she looked down at the mug and then back at you, biting down on her lip. you shrugged your shoulders and nodded your head, handing the mug to her. "thank you! i owe you!"

elle turned around and walked out of the room, you watched her leave with a smile on your face until you couldn't see her anymore. you sighed and turned around, thinking about how you told yourself that you would stop putting other people before you. it's so hard though, especially when you can't stand the thought of making someone upset.

spencer walked into the kitchen just a few minutes later, immediately noticing the way your shoulders slumped. he glanced over at you as he reached into the cabinet to grab the coffee so he could fix a fresh pot.

"did you get your cup of tea?" he asked as he poured coffee into the filters, putting it into the coffee maker. once he got the maker started, he turned and faced you completely. you glanced up and put a smile on your face as you shook your head.

"no, elle came in wanting some tea but i had already used the last bag so i gave her mine." you shrugged your shoulders and looked down at your hands, you started to pick at the skin around your nails. "it's no problem really."

spencer looks down at you picking at your nails, he wants to reach down and grab your hands to stop you but he decides against. even though he's liked you ever since you stepped foot in the office, he's too shy to make a move. you spare him one last glance before walking out of the kitchen.

+++

spencer get's to work before you, before anyone really, and usually he takes the time to get a head start on his reports but this time is different.

before he went home the day before he stopped by the store to grab you some of your favorite things. pens and a new notepad so that you can doodle when you're bored, two boxes of your favorite tea so that you don't have to share with everyone else for a while, a bag of lollipops to refill the container you emptied by giving everyone else them, and some other things you've mentioned that you liked.

he had everything set up perfectly for when you finally walked into the office, your morning cup of tea in your hands and a smile on your face(which he knew was fake most of the time).

you noticed the basket on your desk and an expression of confusion spread across your face. you set your cup down and looked through the basket, a real smile shining through when you saw all your favorite things.

"did anyone see who left this?" you looked around but everyone just shrugged their shoulders and went back to whatever they were doing. though, you did notice how quickly spencer turned around and how red his face was, you walked over to his desk. "thank you, spence. i- i wasn't expecting it."

"it's no problem, re-really." he refused to look into your eyes but you could see how he got redder every second you stood there. you bit down on your bottom lip and turned on your heels, only getting halfway to your desk before spencer called your name. "would you want- could we- i would like to take you out... on a date. only if you want, of course."

you turned around, barely processing the words that were coming out of his mouth. you never expected spencer reid would be asking you out, in a room full of people nonetheless.

"i would love to."

[slamminslamminmcgill]

I need to be high off my ass while deadpool fucks me. That’s it. that’s the post. Wade wilson the man that you are. Hurfgghdhhhh. yeah. weed makes me horny so definitely that…… Deadpool….. save me………….. headlock….. his arms…. ehhshhhshhhhh

deadpool headlock on drugs inspired by my last dick appointment coming right up!!

warning: intox (weed), choking, oral, daddy kink, humiliation, transphobic slurs

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

suggested listening: Gorillaz - Superfast Jellyfish (trying something new w/ poolposting!! i love the deadpool soundtrack and the vibes the music creates for each scene so im trying to emulate that. also discovered recently that this is a perfect song to smoke and get your pussy ate to 😌)

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that, sugarcunt. Speak up for me, will ya?”

“F-Feels so… feels so fucking gooooood…”

“Mm, but does it? If you’re still speaking in complete sentences, then my work’s not done. Go ahead and take another hit. Or two. Y’know what? Just finish the bowl. I’ll pack you another if you’re still too smart for my liking.”

Wade punctuated his order with a sharp smack to your cunt, sloppy with his spit and your need. His mask was pulled up just over his mouth so he could service you.

This motherfucker was trying to kill you. Or at the very least, give you some form of brain damage. Every consecutive orgasm reduced your cognitive functioning. To his credit, though, it sounded like a generous offer when he first proposed it.

“You need to relax, honey-boo. How’s about you smoke up while I go down, if you catch my drift?"

He was lying on his stomach, his chin resting in his hands, his legs in the air kicking back and forth, watching as you took rapid fire bong hits. You tried your best to burn through the bowl as quickly as you could, and you got about three solid clouds out before you started coughing. Hard.

“That’s it. You got it,” Wade cooed, stroking your inner thigh, “Just cough out all those neurons for me, good boy. Daddypool’s stupid little boy, I’m so proud of you!” He used your coughing fit as an opportunity to sneak two fingers inside you, and gawked at how you hard you clenched them. “Ooh, yeah, you got some good grip strength in you, cupcake. Squeezing those fingers like a hug from a church-going grandma. 'Am I gonna see you next week at the bake sale, honey?' Oh, yes, you will, Miss Nancy!"

What? What in the actual fuck is he yapping about? Was that supposed to be a joke? You had no mental bandwidth left to even speak, let alone dissect Wade's meandering, confusing, drawn-out metaphors for your pussy. "Wh… Wha-a-a?"

"Oh, that’s sounding much dumber, baby! Good boy!" He said cheerily, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his suit. "Seems like you’re just about ready for Daddy."

--

"Oh my god, look at you! You look so cute pinned down like this! Aw, you can’t move, can you, dummy? Nowhere for you to go, huh? Except back onto Daddy’s cock where you belong."

Wade had you on your back, your ankles on his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs as he pounded into you, over and over, deeper and deeper. So deep, in fact, it was as if he was shoving your womb up into your throat. Choking on that and a mouthful of drool, you cried out for him, pawing at his arms just to feel him close to you.

“Daddy—Da-! Daddy, Daddyyy-y-y~!”

Wade could see the desperation on your face, that yearning for closeness, and dangled it over your head. “Aw, poor baby, you need a hug? But you’re already hugging me so tight, with that—f-fucking wet honey-pot cunt you’ve got there—ah! Fuck! Ah… shit, I got’cha, come here.”

Wade withdrew his hips, leaving you gaping and empty without his cock stretching you out. He leaned down to wrap his arms tightly around you, though before you could hug him back, he flipped you onto your stomach. He pressed a firm hand onto your back to keep you lying prone on the mattress. With you trapped beneath him once again, he pushed back in.

“Ooooh, that’s it, babyboy, that’s the ticket.”

You sobbed into the pillows, keeping your sounds timid and muffled, and your dignity somewhat intact. But Wade wouldn’t let you off that easy. He hooked his arms around your neck and yanked you up into him. The pressure on your windpipe turned your moans into weak gasps and sputters. The lack of oxygen set your nerves alight, burning with hypersensitivity. And to make matters worse, he wouldn’t stop growling filth right into your ear.

“God, I can feel my balls smacking your tiny little tranny dick like this… Can feel you twitching… So fuck—so fucking wet… Mmmm, I’m gonna shoot the biggest fuckin’ load into you... Not… not yet though… No, I’m not done with you, yet, slutter-butter. I can just… mmm, edge myself inside you… keep you nice and full… All. Fucking. Night.”

[ddejavvu]

hear me out... spencer reid with hickeys I can imagine him getting all nervous and reader just gives him like 20 on his neck and he puts on a scarf and the next day Morgan tugs it off and l o s e s it poor thing WHAHHA

"That's... a new look." Morgan raises an eyebrow at Spencer's purple scarf with a confused half-smile on his face, like he's trying to be supportive for Spencer's sake but doesn't know how.

"I'm cold." Spencer blurts, avoiding the man's eyes and staring down at his paperwork. He's a behavior analyst, he'd pick his mannerisms out as shady if anyone else did it, but he can't seem to appear casual for the life of him.

"Okay..." Morgan sits cautiously at his desk, "Something eating you, pretty boy? I know we're not supposed to profile each other and all, but you seem tense."

"Nothing's wrong." Spencer dismisses in that same clipped, tight tone.

"Right," Morgan drawls, "Okay."

There's a moment of awkward silence in which Spencer scrawls in information on the form he's looking at, and Derek stares at him.

Then he tries making peace, "Here, uh, lemme help you with that."

"With what?" Spencer wants to glance up, but doesn't want to see any hidden amusement in his coworker's eyes, "I know how to fill this out."

"No, I mean-" Derek reaches over his desk, fingers outstretched towards Spencer's neck, "The- scarf."

Spencer jerks away like Morgan's touch will sear his skin, eyes wide and panicked, 'No!"

"Reid," Morgan drawls, hand still stiff in the air, "What's your problem, man?"

"I- It's nothing." Spencer huffs, "I'm getting coffee."

He stalks off to the kitchen, but Morgan isn't deterred.

"Pretty boy," He calls, rushing to join Reid at the counter, "Listen, usually when people show up with a giant scarf on and don't let anyone touch it, they're hiding a hickey."

"I'm not hiding a hickey," Spencer pours sugar into his coffee by the pound, nearly emptying the container as he stirs it in, "I'm going to file a workplace harassment complaint against you if you don't stop."

"Sensitive," Derek marvels, keeping the hand that's creeping towards the back of Spencer's neck out of the man's line of sight. Then, quicker than Spencer can stop him, he grabs hold of the purple cloth and yanks, revealing that Spencer was telling the truth.

He's not hiding a hickey, he's hiding twenty hickies. Fifty, maybe, Derek can't tell because they run into each other like someone had sucked him like a leech.

He doesn't care about being dramatic; his jaw drops.

"Holy shit!" Derek whoops, holding the scarf over his head and pushing against Spencer's chest when the man tries taking it back, "You're- Jesus, did Dracula get to you? Oh my god," He laughs, not even bothering to quiet down as Hotch stalks in, a stern frown on his face at the noise level.

"Give it back," Spencer manages to overpower Derek, only because the man is too busy jeering to use his full strength. Spencer wraps himself tight in the scarf once more, avoiding Hotch's eyes as he finishes stirring his coffee.

"I've gotta go break the news," Derek rushes out, headed straight for Penelope's lair, "Babygirl!"

The silence in the kitchenette of the BAU is stifling, and if Spencer weren't hiding an army of hickies so dark that they nearly painted him purple all over, he'd take off his scarf for some relief. He's silent as he finishes stirring his coffee, and tries to drown out Penelope's excited shriek.

Hotch makes quick work of the coffee pot, and stands beside Spencer to put minimal cream into the substance. Before he leaves, while Spencer is still sugaring up his concoction, he clears his throat.

"Congratulations," He murmurs as he claps Spencer on the back once, nearly ramming the man into the cupboards he's weakly clinging to, "I have an old turtleneck somewhere that I can bring you, if this is gonna be a regular thing."

[russellsppttemplates]

Charles cooking for the kids and they are not the biggest fan of his cooking

"Mama isn't home?", Hervé asked as Charles parked the car in the garage, the spot where you parked your car empty.

"She's having dinner with her friends", Charles explained. As much as he loved spending time with his family in their own bubble, he would be lying if he said that he wasn't looking forward to having his kids' undivided attention on him for the night.

"We might get lucky tonight, maybe she left something made already for us", Hervé mumbled as he got out of the car, "might not be that bad after all", Amélie completed his sentence as she hopped off her seat while Charles carried Thomas up on his hip, walking up to stairs and letting the kids get comfortable in house clothes while he prepared their snacks.

"Do you have any homework, Hervé?", he asked as he cut up some fruit, waiting on the toaster to jump so he could add the bread to their plates.

"No, Ms. Rouvière said we had been well-behaved today, so we didn't get any", your son said as he sat on the stool, making silly faces and playing with Thomas and his building blocks.

"I'm very hungry!", Amélie ran inside the kitchen, sitting on the stool and waiting for her plate as Charles distributed them, "are you, amour? I have this here, and if you want more, let me know and I'll make it. I just don't want you to waste food, that's all", Charles smiled as he kissed the top of her head.

When dinner time came around, Charles had the kids set the table and patiently wait for him to bring the pots and pans to the table, "do you think the pasta will be hard like last time?", Amélie asked her older brother, "I heard mama tell him to leave it longer in the stove", Hervé reasoned, "maybe he did listen to her this time".

"It looks okay... I guess", Amélie added, seeing the pasta on the pot before looking at the giggly Thomas on his high chair, "at least you get the soup mama made for you", she shrugged. Amélie almost always joined you in the kitchen when you batch cooked soup for your little one. Because it made your routine easier, you would often make a big batch and store it in single servings so meal time for Thomas would be easy and you could do it without a hitch everyday.

Granted, the pasta bolognese wasn't the best they've had, but the pasta was considered al dente and the meat wasn't too flavourful, but better that last time where it was too salty.

"It's a good thing papa always let's us have two rounds of dessert", Amélie giggled as Hervé gathered the plates to leave them at the spot on the table where you usually sat, "maybe mama will bring some leftovers", he smiled.

When you got home, the two older kids were first to greet you, "Hi mama!", they said, "Papa is upstairs putting Thomas to sleep", Amélie offered as she looked for something. "You didn't bring anything from the restaurant?", she asked, "no, amour. I ate the last slice of cheesecake they had for the night actually", you said, quirked brow at her question, "did papa not cook the pasta again properly?", you chuckled.

"It was okay, didn't taste of much, but better than tasting bad, I guess", Hervé shrugged his shoulders much like you had done.

"Amour, you're back!", Charles announced his presence, kissing your lips, "did you have a good dinner?", he asked.

"It was good, but I must say I'm feeling peckish, maybe some cookies would be nice", you pouted, prompting him to get them for you.

"This is just once, okay?", you tutted to both kids as they nodded, asserting that eventually you'd have to leave something for them next time you had dinner out without them and Charles was the one in charge of the food.

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

[l0starl]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄

➜ Synopsis : Almost every other day you return to his aid with bruises from your practice efforts in competing in the wardance.

➜ W/c : 306

➜ A/N : THANK YOU @c4ndytr4p ♡ FOR PROOFREADING YOUR A LIFESAVER <3

"How many times are you going to come here like this?"

Jiaoqiu questioned, wrapping the last bandage around your forearm, and tying it into a knot. "Compared to your last injuries, you got lucky"

"Last injuries? They weren't that bad!" You protested, but Jiaoqiu only shook his head with a sigh.

"A black eye, a swollen cheek, and two deep wounds I had to stitch up weren't that bad? And on top of that, you couldn't even lift yourself off the stool after I patched you up..." Jiaoqiu's eyes narrowed, daring you to object to his assertion.

"Well...fine, maybe they were bad. But you'll always be there to patch me up right?" You smirked.

"Of course. But be more careful in training, alright?" He instructed, offering a warm smile. "Now, you must be hungry from all that practice, how about we finish fixing you up and I'll cook you something to eat, would a hot pot suffice?"

You nodded eagerly as Jiaoqiu cleaned up the rest of the supplies, putting them on a nearby shelf as you followed him into the kitchen.

"So, how is it? is it to your preferences?" Jiaoqiu questioned, tilting his head as you both sat at the table, watching you dig Into the meal enthusiastically.

"It's amazing! I might take seconds if I have the time of course" You replied, taking a spoonful of curry, savoring the taste.

His ears flopped at the response. "Ah yes, your training.." he trailed off, seems like he didn't want you to leave just yet "How about taking seconds? You can't train on an empty stomach!"

"Well I-" You couldn't finish your sentence as a spoonful of curry was shoved in your mouth

"You shouldn't speak with your mouth full, now focus on eating and worry about training later. The food is getting cold!"