#i need her to trap him on a chair by falling asleep curled up on his lap

[wintergrofyuri]

to me izutsumi is like the king's personal assassin/bodyguard but only if she's there and if she feels like it. kabru has figured this out and is a master at getting her to help with laios' safety. but he also just points her to random ppl sometimes and goes "you have my permission to rough that guy up" and she's like oh fuck yeah. a random nobleman is like "that BEAST attacked me" and kabru just goes "sorry :( do you want a kiss for your booboo" while izutsumi stands (read: hides) behind him nonchalantly licking the blood off her claws.

like this

he also does not tolerate randos dehumanizing her or otherwise being extremely rude. he's always ready with that "lady izutsumi is a friend to the crown and you would do well to remember your manners as a guest" speech. shes always like "lady.. waow..". and then he drinks an entire glass of wine in one gulp and gives her stuff off his plate he doesnt wanna eat (laios keeps shoving food in his hands and hes very appreciative but theres no way hes eating all these damn hors d'oeuvres).

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m dying for the next chapter of The Other Half. How is shop girl’s job going now that her coworkers know she dating Bruce Wayne?

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Warnings: Light angst; mostly fluff

“Don’t move.”

“I have to.” 

“Nope.” 

You grin as Bruce’s insistence is punctuated by him drawing you into his chest. You wriggle for effect for a moment before you lean back against him. He lets go just long enough to reach around you and whack the snooze button on your alarm before he settles down again with a mumble of, “Five more minutes.” 

“You said that ten minutes ago.” 

Still, you take hold of his hand, intertwining your fingers and letting your eyes slides shut again. It’s a trap, one that you fall for almost every morning. Bruce cuddles you in, leaves the blackout curtains down, and makes it so, so easy to slip blissfully back into sleep. But you can’t be late to work—especially now that everyone knows what they know about you and Bruce. You yawn widely, then smile as Bruce presses his face into your neck. 

“You alright?” You murmur. Bruce doesn’t answer right away, and you for a moment, you think that he’s fallen back asleep. Then—

“‘m fine.” 

“Are you sure—?” 

“Ssssssh.” 

Your smile widens as he brushes a kiss against your skin. You hum softly as he shifts against you, sliding a leg between yours and untangling your fingers, smoothing his hand over your belly. The brush of a kiss presses more firmly to the hinge of your jaw, and the smoothing of his hand gathers and urges the fabric up, up, up over your belly—

“Nn-nn,” You warn, resting your hand on his wrist to still him. He groans, head tipping to rest against your nape for just a moment before you finally pry yourself from his arms and push yourself out of bed. You roll your shoulders back, yawning again as you tuck your feet into your slippers and groggily stand. You reach out, pressing the button to raise the blackout curtains, and grinning as Bruce moodily grunts and pulls the covers up over his head. 

“You’re such a baby,” You tease, heading for the bathroom. You take a long, leisurely shower, fully expecting Bruce to still be in bed when you get out. You’re surprised to find the bed empty when you head back into the bedroom, but you’re not at all surprised the find the clothing that you’d laid out the night before neatly pressed and on a hanger. Alfred does it every night—even if you’ve already ironed it. You have to ask him sometime how he gets the pleat in your pants so dang crisp. 

You dress quickly and head out into the kitchen. You’re surprised to see Bruce there. He’s half-asleep, half-slumped over the counter with his hand curled around a hot cup of coffee. You open your mouth to tease him, and then close it again as Alfred passes you a cup of coffee as well. 

“Good morning, Alfred.” 

“I trust you slept well. Now, what would you like to eat?” 

“Uh…” You glance toward the time on the stove. “I don’t have much time.” 

“You should eat something,” Bruce mumbles. You fight down a smile, glancing toward him. 

“Maybe just, um—Scrambled eggs and toast?” 

“Of course.” 

“Thank you.” You round the counter, sitting on a chair beside Bruce. You rub your hand between his shoulder blades gently, chuckling as he leans into you. “You didn’t have to get up, you know.”

“Wanted to.” 

“I sincerely doubt that, but I appreciate it. You getting up to anything today?” 

“I have to head into the office, speak with Fox.” 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Sure, just need some…Upgrades.” 

It’s all he says, because that's all you want to know. You nod, taking up the coffee cup and taking a pull. 

“What about you?” Bruce presses, tipping his chin up to look at you. 

“I’ve got a few meetings.” 

“Anything fun?” 

“Not sure I’d ever call meetings fun.” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell your boss.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Even though, technically, I am your  boss.” 

“Not funny.” 

“Hilarious.” 

“Alfred? Tie-breaker here, please?” You ask, looking up as Alfred sets your breakfast down in front of you. He smiles, shaking his head a little. 

“I learned a long time ago to stay out of lovers' quarrels. Excuse me.” 

You chuckle softly, calling your thanks out after him as he goes. You take your fork up, shoveling some of the eggs onto a piece of toast. 

“Are you busy tonight?” Bruce asks. 

“Maybe. Why?” 

“Can’t remember the last time I took you out to dinner.” 

“Well,” You mumble through a mouthful, “Thought that was part of the plan.” You glance over to find Bruce pouting. You reach out, booping his nose before you shove some more eggs onto your toast. “Don’t give me that look, it is and you know it.” 

Liz and Grant had given you a few tips for the coming months, things that would keep you out of the papers. Bruce didn’t drop you off to work, or pick you up. The two of you weren’t seen in public together unless it was absolutely necessary—and that included going out with one another. If you went to parties, you arrived and left separately. 

“I’m starting to not like this plan,” Bruce reaches out, snagging one of your pieces of toast. 

“Why?” 

“Because, it makes it seem like I’m ashamed of you.” 

You balk, brow furrowing, mouth going still mid-chew. 

“I don’t feel like that,” You insist as Bruce catches your eye. 

“No?” 

“No. And besides, the almost complete lack of coverage has kept things quiet at work. Not like they’ve forgotten, but like…I don’t know,” You shrug, looking back down at the plate guardedly, “It seems like it doesn’t matter to them.”

“It shouldn’t anyway.” 

“No, it shouldn’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that your name is over the door.” 

You turn to look at Bruce again, remorse prickling your skin as you see his pouting deepening. You reach out, gently resting your hand on his nape. 

“It’s not like either of us can change it,” You point out softly, “Not that I’d want it to.” 

“No?” 

Bruce meets your eye and waits for you to argue. Maybe you do wish it a little, sometimes. It would be easier if Bruce wasn’t…Bruce. But then again—

“No,” You shake your head. “If you weren’t who you are, we may never have met. I prefer it this way.” 

Bruce’s smile widens as he leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“I had no idea I was dating such a sap,” He murmurs. You snort, whacking his arm. 

“Shut up—Shit,” You glance toward the oven. “I’ve gotta go if I’m gonna get to the office on time.” You dust your hands clean before you reach up, grasping his jaw and drawing him in for a peck. 

“Can we do something tonight?” 

“Well,” You slide off of the chair and grab your work bag. “I’m not busy, so if we’re both around, I’m sure we can figure something out.” 

“I’ll text you the particulars.” 

“Oh, there are going to be particulars?” You waggle your brows as you walk backward toward the elevator. “Mr. Wayne, I’m flattered.” 

“Turn around,” He chuckles. “You’re going to walk right into the doors.” 

You reach back, blindly whacking the down button before you hold your hands up. “Impressive, I know.” 

“That’s a skill you can take to the bank.” 

You snort, stepping back onto the elevator as the doors open. “I’ll see you later, babe.” 

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you, too!” 

--  

You do still get glances. You’re not sure that that’ll ever really go away, not for as long as you’re with Bruce. If…Well, you don’t like to think this way, but if you and Bruce ever split up, you're fairly certain that you would fade into obscurity. In that case, you’d be more than alright with only showing up in the paper now and again. Hell, if you're lucky, you'll never show up in the paper at all. Michelle hasn’t sent you a new article about you and Bruce in nearly two weeks; Liz and Grant have been keeping an eye out for any stories that may slip through the cracks about you in particular. Things have been quieting down at work, falling into a fairly regular cadence. 

You’re getting comfortable. 

That makes you nervous. 

-- 

“Do you wanna grab lunch?” 

The question catches you off-guard. You’re in the middle of picking up your things, getting ready to head back to your desk, but you go still. You hesitantly meet Rose’s bright eyes, brows raising as you glance toward where your coworkers are leaving the room. She’s already gathered her things, hugging them to her chest as she waits for you.

“I, um…Me?” You point toward yourself. 

“Yes,” She chuckles. “Did you bring something to eat?” 

“Oh…No,” You shake your head. “What were you thinking?” 

“There are a few good places around,” She shrugs, “Salads, Mexican, Chinese…” She trails off again, and you realize that she’s waiting for you to say yes or no. 

“Salad would be good,” You nod. “I’ve got a block of meetings this afternoon and I don’t wanna fall asleep in the middle.” 

“Oh, girl. You wouldn't be the only one.”

-- 

“How’s it been for you so far?” 

You poke at the arugula in your bowl, then spear a piece of chicken as you consider. 

“It’s been alright, I guess? The work’s been, like...Not quite what I thought it would be. I’m definitely interested in what we’re doing,” You insist. “But I thought I’d be doing less admin stuff.” 

“They’ll phase you out of that once you get used to the processes,” Rose rests her chin on her hand, flicking a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. “They did the same thing to me.”

“Okay, that’s actually pretty reassuring. I don’t mind taking it slower, either. I’m not used to this kind of work.” 

“No?” 

“Nn-nn. I was in retail before this.” 

“What made you leave?” 

“Uh…” You pissed off your manager, went on a Valentine’s Day trip with the Prince of Gotham, and she fired you—“It was just time for a change.” 

“So it wasn’t…” 

“Wasn’t…?” You raise a brow, meeting her eye. You find guilty intrigue there, and it makes your stomach flip. You clear your throat. You were waiting for this.

“No,” You answer flatly. “It wasn’t his idea, and definitely not his decision.” 

Rose nods hurriedly, gaze dropping back to her food as she pokes through it almost studiously. You lean back in your seat a little, nerves beginning to rise. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea—

“We don’t have to talk about him,” Rose offers, “And I’m sorry I brought it up.” 

You bite your lip. You’re surprised she gave you that, at least. 

“S’okay,” You shake your head. You’re just desperate to change the subject. “So, what do you do for fun?” 

“The usual stuff, you know. I like to read, I like movies, I like…Okay, this is gonna sound kinda dorky,” She shifts in her seat, “But I like quilting.” 

You grin. “My mom loves quilting. What are you working on right now?” 

“Okay, so it’s called a strip and flip? And I made the mistake of putting that on my Tinder profile.” 

“Oh, no.” 

“Oh, yeah. Kind of the best mistake I’ve ever made.” 

--  

“Do you take the train home?” Rose sidles up to your desk as you close your laptop for the night. 

“Yeah,” You nod. “Do you?” 

“Mhm. Uptown? Downtown?” 

“Depends on the day,” You admit, glancing down and doing a double-take at the sight of Bruce’s name flashing up on your ringing phone. You smile sheepishly, muttering, “Sorry, can I just, um—” 

“Yeah, course!” 

You reach down, taking up the phone and answering the call: 

“Hey there. I thought I'd be texted particulars.” 

“Go to P3.” 

“Why?” 

“There’s a surprise waiting for you.” 

“That sounds terribly suspicious.” 

“You trust me?” 

“Of course.” 

“P3. I’ll be waiting.”

You bite back a wide smile as you lower the phone. 

“I don’t think I’ll be taking the train, sorry. Something came up.” 

“No worries. Maybe tomorrow?” 

“I’d like that, yeah. Get home safe.” 

“You, too!” 

You draw your bag up over your shoulder, heading for the elevator. You can see a couple of photographers outside of the lobby doors—the few that have taken to lingering on a daily basis, and seem entirely unable to take a hint. They seem to perk up as Rose comes out, and then again as another employee leaves. 

-- 

You step off of the elevator, raising an eye as you see an almost entirely empty parking lot. Bruce is just a couple of spaces away, leaning back against his Benz. 

“Did you reserve the entire parking lot?” You tease, waving toward the empty space. 

“I don’t like to brag, but I have some pull around here.” 

“Mm, I’ve heard. Big man on campus.” 

Bruce chuckles, grasping your jaw and drawing you in for a tender kiss. You hum softly, resting your hands on his chest. 

“Was Alfred busy or something?” You ask.

“No.” 

“No?” 

“I wanted to come get you myself.” 

“Why? Is something wrong?” You frown, reeling back. 

“No.” Bruce shakes his head. “I missed you, that’s all. I feel like I've barely spent time with you lately.” 

You melt a little, relaxing against him and eyeing his chest. 

“It’s been busy,” You excuse. 

“It’s that stupid plan.” 

“That stupid plan has been keeping my mother from calling every other day and insisting I move to Metropolis with them, so. It’s a good plan. I like the plan.” 

“She’d been saying that?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding. “At first, yeah. She was worried about the coverage.” You glance guardedly Bruce. “And you know she’s been trying to get me to move for a while, anyway.” 

Bruce purses his lips before he gives a small nod of concession. 

“C’mon,” You urge. “Are we getting dinner or what?” 

“Alfred is making it back at the manse.” 

“Oh, well excuse me,” You straighten up, rounding the car to the passenger side. Bruce opens the door for you, pecking your lips before you slide in, settling down. It’s just a moment before Bruce is climbing into the driver’s seat beside you. 

“So,” He shuts the door, “How was work?”

You consider for a moment, resting your hand on his thigh. 

“Pretty good. I think I made a friend.”

Next Part

[charmandabear]

Christmas

Summary:

Sleeping in your childhood bedroom with your parents on the other side of the wall is probably the worst place to fool around. Bummer that you and Astarion struggle to keep your hands off each other.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 1.6k Tags/Warnings: more smut than fluff, modern au, christmas smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, keep it the fuck down

Read it on AO3.

Thank you again to Idylla for letting me use their amazing art for the banner! Part 2 of 3(?) of Midwinter Nights! Definitely absolutely not based on a true story.

Midwinter Nights: Yule | Christmas | New Year's Eve

It's not that you were nervous to introduce him to your parents, but you certainly weren't free of anxiety.

But the second he turned on that Astarion charm, relief rushed your body. They were absolutely enamored with him, your dad almost alarmingly so. You had never seen him laugh louder at someone’s jokes, clearly vying to impress your partner.

He looked so cute helping your mom trim the tree, carefully placing ornaments according to her strict instruction. He indulged her desire to spread family gossip halfway through her second glass of wine. He would occasionally throw a smile towards where you were curled up in a cushy chair with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, flashing a cheeky hint of fang for your benefit. Your parents don't need to know about that yet.

You finally bade your parents goodnight and retreated to your old bedroom. They had converted it into a guest room long ago, but there were still hints of your childhood in it. The stuffed animals that adorned the bed, the old dresses hanging in the closet.

You turned out the lights and slipped under the covers next to Astarion, rubbing your cold feet against his even colder legs. You turned over to face him, basking in the sight of his skin glowing beneath the twinkling fairy lights.

“My parents really like you,” you said in a whisper, cognizant of them possibly hearing you on the other side of the wall. He rested a hand on the slope of your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly.

“Don't sound so surprised, darling,” he chuckled. “You say it as though I don't know how to behave.” He punctuated the statement with a rakish grin, really driving home the point.

“Right, because when I think ‘Astarion’ my first thought is ‘someone you can take home to mother.’” 

“I'm certain I have no idea what you mean,” he said, and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead. You smiled and burrowed into his chest, excited to fall asleep and for morning to come.

You tilt your head up for one more goodnight kiss. He obliges, and his lips taste sweet, the hot chocolate still lingering. Your breath catches as he presses into your lower back with his hand, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. You snake your hands up around his neck, lightly running your fingers through his soft silvery curls.

If you were smart, you would have broken the kiss and turned over to go to sleep. Lying in your childhood bedroom with your extremely attractive vampire lover while your parents slept on the other side of the very thin wall was not the time or place to start anything.

But you are not a smart woman.

You pressed your body into his and relished in the breathy groan that escaped his lips. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, the taste of desperation and heat flooding your senses. You clawed at his back and neck, chasing every inch of his body and searching for relief from that mounting pressure in your belly. He slid his hand down your ass and hooked your leg around his waist. Beyond your control, a small voiced moan made its way out of your throat.

“Shhhhh!” He hushed you before trapping your lips into another kiss, effectively silencing you. You tried to swallow back your breaths, keeping them light and shallow to prevent any more noise from leaving your body. It proved harder when he caught your lower lip between his teeth, his fangs pricking the sensitive flesh without actually piercing any skin.

Your contrasting desires to satiate your hunger for him while also staying quiet enough to not be overheard were at war with one another. You pulled him on top of you with the leg around his waist and he drove his hips into yours, giving you the slightest hint of his growing arousal. You inhaled a ragged breath in between increasingly ravenous kisses, your hands desperately searching for more of him and his touch.

The mounting heat and pressure between your legs was starting to overwhelm you and you shifted your focus onto controlling your increasingly needy mewling. You buried your face in the crook of his neck in the hopes that it might absorb some of the sound. He didn’t make it any easier as he continued to slide his half-hard erection along your cunt, the two thin layers of fabric between you dampening with every passing minute. You clamped your teeth down onto the skin there, not biting so much attempting to use his shoulder as a gag. This backfired as the second your teeth made contact, he let out a sharp hiss as his hips bucked, setting off another groan that died in your throat.

Your knees fell open further and you could feel the outline of his length press into your folds. You tightened your grip on his shoulders, wincing as you tried to suppress the obscene noises threatening to escape. But you ached for more, the need for the relief his touch provided was starting to consume you. You grabbed the back of his head, bringing his ear in contact with your lips.

“Please touch me, quickly,” you begged in a sharp whisper, unconcerned with how pathetic you sounded. He pulled back and his red eyes glinted with mischief, an impish grin spreading across his lips.

“All right, but not a sound, understood?” he purred, and you clamped your lips shut as you nodded impatiently.

His touch was cool he trailed it down your front, sending a shiver through you. He slid his palm flat against your pubic bone, fingertips barely touching the top of your slit. Your mouth dropped open but you managed to maintain your silence even as your hips jerked into his hand. His opposite hand snaked behind your neck and he crushed your lips into his once again, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip. He dipped a finger between your folds and you could feel his lips curl up into a smile.

“Darling, is this just from me?” He clicked his tongue as he lazily swept his finger up and down your slick. “So eager.” You couldn’t respond, you only clenched your teeth as your hips cantered into his touch. His cool digit between your hot lips sent a shudder rippling through your body.

“You love it when I touch you like this,” he purred, and you immediately caught on to what he was doing. You would not last long with him crooning into your ear, never mind having an easy time keeping your voice down. His lips brushing along your ear made your breaths come high and hot, and you tightened your fingers in his hair.

“Look at you, coming undone,” he continued, unphased by the pain from you tugging on his hair. He gently circled your clit, just enough to tease you and not nearly enough to satisfy. You thrusted into his hand, aching for relief.

“You want it so badly, little pup.” You could feel the pet name on his breath tickling your ear and you swallowed the whine threatening to emerge. “You want to scream my name, but you can’t.” He slid a finger inside you, moving it excruciatingly slowly. You bit down on your knuckle as you tried to fuck yourself on his fingers, begging for more. You’re so rarely this quiet and you can hear the squelch of his fingers as they pumped inside you, and the extra sensory element made you all the more wild.

“If I give you what you want,” he looked down his nose at you and you could see the arousal in his eyes, “will you need me to make you stay quiet?” He was beginning to pant, too, his heaving chest rhythmically pressing into yours. You kept your lips closed tight as you nodded in desperation. He shifted his weight, clamping his free hand over your mouth and pressing your thigh up with his knee so he could get a better angle into your cunt.

He began to properly thrust his fingers into you, the crook of his thumb hitting your clit with every downstroke. His hand muffled your cries as they grew increasingly needy. You rocked into him and the bed began to emit a tiny steady creak. But you were so past the point of caring, all you needed was for him to give you your release.

“That's a good girl, let go, love,” he whispered roughly into your ear. His praise and encouragement were enough to send you over the edge, your hips rutting into his hand as your cunt clenched around his fingers. He rode out the waves of your orgasm with you, and you can feel his ragged breath on your cheek.

The two of you slowed, and before he even took his fingers out of you you were both listening intently for any sign of movement on the other side of the wall. When you deemed it appropriately quiet, you fell into a fit of giggles. Astarion pulled his hand out of you and dropped his forehead into your neck, shaking with silent laughter.

“That's a dangerous game you're playing, Ancunín,” you whispered, breathing not yet returned to normal.

“You were the one begging, you needy little thing,” he responded with a smirk, barely visible in the low light. You playfully shoved him off you and rolled onto your side, snuggling your back into him. He wrapped his arm around your waist, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder blade. You closed your eyes, praying there wouldn't be any awkward conversations at breakfast.

[peachesofteal]

I must know what happens after Darling wakes up following that one scenario 😵‍💫 will Simon and Johnny let her leave if she wants to? Or will this go a darker route? I could see Simon desperately trying to gaslight her but also could see him just taking a step back, out of concern that if she isn’t allowed to leave, they could really stress her out and possibly hurt the baby as a result. Either way — all the angst!! Heartbreak!!

I don’t know if this is about after the tranquilizer or the one from yesterday, but this one isn’t super dark… still baby trap au but I see this “what if” being the softer side of baby trap au. 🩵

18+ Mature themes / baby trap au / takes place after this

You’re makin’ me anxious, Si.” Johnny admonishes him, and he answers with a raised brow. Johnny sits against the headboard, back straight, a fist clenched in the blanket bunched around his hips. He looks relaxed, at first glance, but Simon doesn’t need to look too closely to see how deeply he’s worried. The tense line that has his shoulders strung up high, the crease in his brow, the way he constantly looks down to see if you’re still asleep, the way he tenses anytime you stir.

“I’m not.” He responds, but still fidgets uncomfortably in the chair that he’s pulled over to the bed, facing where you’re curled up, bump just visible under the sheets, hands tucked beneath your cheek, face sweet and relaxed in your dreams. Or nightmares.

He can’t get the image you crying, chest heaving with sobs, face stricken with horror, falling into a full panic attack, telling them to get away from you.

You had turned away from him, flinched when he had tried to calm you.

You hadn’t spoken to them, while they tucked you into bed, trying to keep themselves at bay, trying to relax you the best they could while you sobbed like your heart had been ripped out.

What have they done?

You toss in the bed, shifting, and he can tell by the way your lashes are fluttering, that you’re finally waking up.

He holds his breath.

“Hey, there you are.” Johnny says, trying to keep his voice light while you blink awake, brow furrowed. When you move, you wince, and he knows it’s because you’re trying relieve some of the pressure on your back, the pregnancy making sleep fairly uncomfortable a little bit more, day by day. You look tired, and Simon realizes for the first time, that you almost seem frail. More fragile than he’s used to, or comfortable with. “Darling?” Johnny pushes, just slightly, and you turn to look at him, with empty eyes.

You don’t respond.

Simon’s heart splinters.

“Want some water?” Johnny tries, again, and he smiles at you. A beautiful, life altering smile that Simon loves so much. A smile that feels like home.

But when you still don’t say anything, it melds into something twisted, something grim. Sad. And to watch it unfold, to watch the light bleed from Johnny just as it’s bled from you, steals his breath away.

[countrymusiclover]

69 - Drastic Vampire Measures

Part 70

Her Life Means Everything

@mrs-fanfiction-2001 @the-big-bad-klaus @dragonixfrye @samsgirl93 @elijahmikaelsonbitch

“I can’t believe this. My daughters and my husband have flipped their switches. Alaric is in a coma and that has all happened in the spam of not even twenty four hours. I mean what the hell is going to happen next!” Slumping down in the desk chair of the main office I smacked a hand to my forehead feeling frustrated.

My sister was standing in front of the wooden desk moving to sit down in the chair in front that was pulled up. She had some of her hair curled while I had mine separated into two braids falling down my shoulders. “Look, we have to face one problem at a time, Mads. I mean you managed to break Klaus from his crazy spell before so I don’t see why you can’t do it a second time. As for the girls, I don't think we can bring them back without Klaus.”

“I agree with you on that. It just shook me you know…when I looked into his eyes he looked like a completely different person. It was like the first time I saw his hybrid face…I…I was terrified all over again.” Leaning back in the chair I wrapped my arms around myself shaking a little. I usually wasn’t afraid of Klaus but I was when he had his vampire switch flipped.

Caroline twirling her twin ring sends me a glance with a half smile in my direction. “It was so long ago that I thought he wasn’t capable of having any real human feelings until I saw he was around you. He has been there for you through everything including our mother’s death. It took me a long time before I realized it wasn’t just because of the soulmate bond.”

“It’s always been more than that, Care. It’s like he opened my mind to something that I never knew I needed. I mean think about it Caroline our lives completely changed for the better once we were introduced into the world of vampires and werewolves.” Throwing my hands up from the desk I explained to her before I heard Lizzie saying something to her friends in another room. Vamping into the room I saw that Josie was lying asleep on the bed.

“Mrs. Mikaelson. I didn’t know you were back yet. Where is your husband?” MG questions turning to face me with Lizzie standing beside him.

Leaning in the doorway I noticed that Jo’s girlfriend Finch was sitting at her bedside until I had entered the bedroom. “My husband has been turned to the dark side yet again by my eldest daughter Nikola. And I can only assume that Josie is trapped inside the box because of Hope or her. Now would someone care to explain what exactly is going on here.”

“I have a solution to our Nikola and Hope problem after what they did to my father, Aunt Maddie.” Lizzie stepped forward where I could tell that I wasn’t going to like what she was saying next. She avoided my gaze for a moment before she finally muttered. “I want to kill them…”

The veins underneath my eyes suddenly appeared where I snagged her wrist dragging her into the hallway trapping her in between the wall and my boys where she gasped never seeing me like this. I didn’t lose my temper normally but she was coming after my children. “Elizabeth Jenna Saltzman you will never utter those words ever again or I will make your life a living nightmare. I have not gone to almost hell and back so that you could say something like that. Do you not know that they are already dead there is no way of coming back - and besides they are Tribrid’s. They cannot be killed. Even if they could - they are your cousins - you’re family!”

“Aunt Maddie I…They tried to kill my dad. He is in a coma - urgh!” She grunted with her hair falling in front of her eyes. I heard her heartbeat quickening with my right hand wrapped around her throat.

Pushing her up against the wall some more I didn’t care. My fangs appeared where her heart skipped a beat in fear. “I am sorry about your father but it doesn’t change the fact that you are talking about coming after my children. I let Hope and Nikola go to this school so you can be close - but under no circumstances will I ever allow you to hurt my babies!”

“Mads I’m sorry…ugh you’re hurting me…please stop.” She whimpered under my fingernails where she gripped my wrist trying to get me to pull away.

Stepping away from her I growled hearing her drop on the floor while my nose picked up a hint of blood. Glancing back at my niece I noticed that my nails had drawn a very little amount of blood from her neck so I bit into my wrist holding it out to her. “Drink Lizzie and then go watch over your sister. If I catch you anywhere else I’ll tell your mother what you just told me.”

“I’m sorry Aunt Maddie….I just can’t believe she did this…Hope hurt my father.” She gulped down my blood until the wounds healed.

I put a hand on her shoulder sending her on her way before I heard the front door of the school get thrown open. Vamping into the living room my husband dropped a dead body on the carpet where I shook in my head I felt my fangs trying to pop through at the heightened smell of blood. “Klaus, seriously you really can’t drop dead bodies inside the school. We have little kids here in case you have forgotten that.”

“I didn’t, my beautiful wife. But you seem to forget that I have flipped that glorious switch we have so I don’t care about much.” He waved his finger around in the air heading down the stairs until he was standing directly in front of me. “Now what do you say to you and me taking a little trip to France. Elijah and Hayley say that it is so lovely.”

Knitting my brows together I took a step backwards from him remembering that I had hidden one of Mikaelson's daggers inside the couch. Even though they didn’t work on him it was better than nothing. I couldn’t let him possibly hurt any students. “Klaus, we can’t go traveling. Our daughters need our help. And I know you haven’t forgotten that we have children to worry about..” Backing up by the edge of the coach I wrapped my fingers around the blade handle quickly drawing it out attempting to stab him.

“Maddison…Maddison…how pathetic of you.” He clicked his touch snatching my wrist in his where I grunted feeling his nails drawing some blood. He drew the dagger from my grasp, tossing it away then jerking me into his chest. “Right before that little attempt I did care what I did to you but now…well maybe this will help you see what I want you to do.”

He revealed his fangs pressing them into my neck where I gasped sharply feeling him drink my blood but also that his werewolf venom was entering my bloodstream. “Nik….Caroline!”

“I love you, Mads. But if you want always and forever then you will agree to my terms in France when you wake up.” He moved his hands up to the sides of my neck seeing that my eyes were watering at the pain he just caused. He moved his fingers quickly snapping my neck where I collapsed into his waiting arms where he carried me bridal style vamping me out of the house.

Only a minute later the older Forbes blonde vamped into the room seeing the dagger and some blood on the floor but didn’t hear the pair. She had heard he cry but wasn’t as fast an Original Hybrid. “Maddie!”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[loveoaths]

Hi! Can you tell us some super cool character headcanons meme with Maul?

Like:

the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to

what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep

how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump

thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto? perfect. i know his singing voice is perfect)

Thanks!

i don't know if i'd put super cool and maul in the same sentence, but i can def share some headcanons!

Places Maul shouldn't sleep in but does anyway: he's too uptight to fall asleep anywhere that isn't absolutely secure. he's the type to fall asleep in the pilot's chair of his ship, or curled in a ball on his bed with his back to the wall and a hand curled securely around his saberstaff hilt. maul is weird about spaces, too: he doesn't like being trapped anywhere, but big rooms weird him out. he prefers a smaller space to sleep, because nothing can hide from him, and he has total control of it -- and peace of mind. he did learn to force himself to doze in strange places on missions, though.

What they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep: honestly, i do not think this man sleeps well, at all, ever. he is always some kind of tired, which means he's always at least a little crabby. maul is prone to headaches and migraines; the more sleep-deprived he is, the more likely one pops up. my man is nursing a low grade headache/on his way to a migraine at any given time. he becomes more churlish, irascible, cruel, irrational, and paranoid the longer he goes without rest, as well. this sucks for everyone within a 10 mile radius of him, because we all know that if momma maul ain't happy, nobody's happy.

How they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump: honestly i bet he wishes he could do drugs. he can't, he does not have the right mindset for them, but boy oh boy does he wish he could get blasted off his ass and not think for a damn minute. however, that would require him not to be a paranoid motherfucker, and maul don't trust like that, lol. so his preferred methods of relaxing are, like... eating bitter and salty foods, hunting (fresh meat is always a great mood booster), and doing something he's good at. unfortunately for the galaxy at large, everything maul is good at is illegal on every planet, so maul's self-care day usually ends with other people in the hospital or the morgue. moving meditation is also helpful, as is studying something new. he's particularly interested in sith history, the legacies of mandalore and other warrior cultures, reports related to unknown space, and high republic era history. maul is always looking for information that will give him the upper hand, and as future oriented as he tries to be, his very nature compels him to look back into the past (usually at his own failings and misery). more mundane comforts are submerging himself in a body of water when he has the luxury, which is not often, and building trinkets made from the armor, weapons, and, sometimes, bodies of defeated enemies.

Thoughts on his singing voice: i'm going to be indulgent here and say that maul would be a good singer if he had any real desire or inclination to sing, and kept at it. he naturally has great pitch and rhythm, but music has not been a big part of his life. if he hadn't been taken from dathomir as an infant, feral would have asked him to sing to him at night, and maul would have done it (pretending to be annoyed the entire time, but enjoying his brother needing him for something). but since that didn't happen, i'm partial to the idea that singing is something kilindi matako introduced maul to at orsis academy. she wasn't spectacular at it, but he thought it was beautiful because he couldn't remember anyone singing before then. she convinced him to keep at it during their time there together, and he eventually came up with a little song just for her. however, he never got to show it to her before he massacred the academy on his master's orders. he still hums her song sporadically from time to time, years later.

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Live In Nanny

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny. 

TW: Yandere themes, breeding kink (our villain is ready to make the reader a mommy), dub con 

AN: literally just took Hero All Might and flipped him upside down. So baseline form is big buff boi and villain form is lanky but retains the strength.

Single father with a nine month old child, seeking live in nanny services. Negotiable pay. Negotiable time off/vacation days.

Toshinori was impressed with your interview. You had over 8 years of experience working with children between babysitting and working at a day care. Plus Izuku took to you immediately. It was just a bonus that you were easy on the eyes.

You agreed to begin immediately, trying not to let on that you were in desperate need of money and a place to stay. You didn't have much to move in. And, in comparison to the huge room you had been given, it seemed like you owned even less. You figured your new boss must get paid well. His house was huge, the largest you'd ever been in.

Your room was next to baby Izuku's. Settling in to a routine with the baby was easy. You weren't sure exactly what your employer did for a living, his schedule was sporadic, he would be in and out throughout the day. Whenever he was available he would stop by to love on the infant. It was clear that he was doing his best as a single parent, but house keeping wasn't his strong suit. You tried your best to help out with the chores and grocery shopping, after all he was paying you graciously and giving you a roof over your head.

The only bump in the road so far has been getting Toshinori's permission to take the little one on walks through the nearby park. According to the father, errands were one thing but what was the point of going to park? Izuku can't even walk, there wouldn't be any benefit. Eventually you convinced him, after rambling about how good it is for babies to be exposed to different levels of stimulation. You could show Izuku the ducks and dogs, plus he could see all the pretty spring time flowers.

The older man was worried, he feared that his child, and you for that matter, would be targeted by his enemies. Plenty of low life's would love to make a move against the notorious villain. But you wore down his resolve. So long as you would tell him before you went. Thankfully he could play it off as being a bit of a helicopter dad. He always has a spare crony he could send out there to watch over you two.

---

"What are you both doing," your bosses laugh filled the air.

You were in a very flattering position, palms on the floor stretching through your hips, ass hiked up with a tempting arch to your back. Then you pushed yourself forward, giving the giggling baby raspberries before returning to your original position.

"Baby yoga!" You smiled, oblivious to the growing bulge in the villains pants. "Right now we're doing downward facing dog and cobra."

He watched you cycle through the motions, hypnotized by your movements.

You took such good care of him and his baby. Ever since you got here you went above and beyond (very plus ultra of you). You even packed his meals to go when he had to rush off to a job. And you did it all with a smile and his kid bouncing away at your feet. The man allowed his mind to drift to the thought of you with his babies, Izuku on your hip and your round belly ready to pop.

You made an amazing nanny but you would make an even better housewife.

---

It wasn't until a week after Izuku's birthday that you learned about your bosses occupation. You were at the park and a stranger approached you to coo over Izuku.

"Such a little cutie, this is Toshi's kid, right?"

That caught you off guard, how did this person know Toshinori? You knew he was a protective dad and there something about this woman felt off.

"Well, either way, this is for you," she smiled as she passed you a manila envelope. "A little birdie wants you to have it."

You skeptically eyed the parcel as the woman disappeared through the park. You shoved it into Izuku's diaper bag before rushing back home.

You decided to peek into the envelope after settling 'Zuku down for the night. You curled onto the chair in his nursery, using his nightlight too sift through the documents. Various photos of Toshinori, your employer, amongst high profile criminals. Photos of the most terrifying villain among his infamous exploits. And finally a piece of paper with a single web address and access code. This was the most damning piece of evidence, All Might - the villain himself - joking amongst his companions before transforming into the man you knew as Izuku's father. Without this video you would have never even guessed. All Might was known for his unassuming nature, his slender frame concealing his god-like strength. Still he looked terrifying, like make children cry type terrifying. Toshinori on the other hand was massive but his sunny attitude made him approachable. For all these months you had been working for a criminal. A criminal with a child. You had been living with him, laughing and raising a baby, taking care of him and his family. Oh god, your late night fantasies of your boss, a total DILF, were fantasies of a sadistic monster.

The betrayal and shame brought you to tears. You should call the cops. Take Izuku far away from this place, from being exposed to his fathers atrocities. But you were torn, he was a good dad, he always put his son first and provided him with only the best. He would tear the world apart for Izuku even if he had to put a target on your back. You shook as you muffled your cries, trying not to wake the baby you cared so much for. Eventually you wrote yourself out, falling asleep in the nursery.

By the time Toshinori made it home it was close to two in the morning. As usual he tip toed into his sons room, shocked to find you curled up in the rocker asleep. He was quiet, surprisingly more so than in his slender form. As you made his way to wake you he was surprised to see your phone still unlocked, you had fallen to sleep with that video on loop. Underneath your phone was the envelope, he didn't need to look to know what was inside. He hadn’t woken either of you, managing to shut off your phone and pick you up with or so much as a peep. He decided rather quickly that he would wait for you to make the first move. At least in the mean time he could pretend you didn't care about his lifestyle and that you wouldn't try to leave him or his son.

"Toshinori," you mumbled as he was about to settle you into your bed. You were half asleep and groggy from crying.

"Go back to sleep, darling, it's late," he paused to sway with you, just like he did when putting down 'Zuku for a nap. He was shocked that it worked and finally escaped your room. You let him lull you back to sleep, further affirming his belief that you would stay.

---

The next morning you creeped downstairs. Izuku wasn't in his crib, meaning Toshinori was him. You found them both in the kitchen. The sight of the pair would usually warm your body but now shivers radiated down your spine.

"Look who's up, buddy, say good morning," he bounced the child, beaming like the happiest father.

Taking a deep breath you decided to rip off the band aid. "Mr Toshinori, I have to resign."

His pause was so long you wondered if he heard you.

"Did the video upset her that much, Zuzu?"

He looked at you with the same warmth he always did. "There's no need to be formal, you were fine calling me Toshi just the other day. Take a seat, I made pancakes, just like you like'em."

You complied, his unchanged demeanor intimidating you into submission.

"There's no need for you to quit," he started. "Nothing has changed aside from your level of awareness."

"I can't work for you knowing that you hurt people."

At that his smile faltered, "Darling, if you truly felt that way, you wouldn't be here. You would've slipped out early this morning."

You were silent. He was right, in a way. Trapped between what was right and what was best for Izuku. You'd never be able to do anything about your boss's criminal activity, even if you did and All Might was locked away, Izuku would suffer the most.

"Give yourself a few days to adjust, okay? If you still want to quit after that, we can reassess."

There's was a glint in his eyes that hinted he wasn't asking.

---

"I'll be back this evening," Toshinori told you a as he kissed Izuku's forehead. He was uncomfortably close as he returned the baby to your lap. "There's plenty of groceries so you don't need to go out today. I have a coworker out front, so don’t worry if you see someone outside."

"What are they doing?"

He placed a hand on the top of your hair, petting you like some cat.

"He'll just keep an eye on things. I need someone to make sure you stay put."

---

A week flew by with your employer pushing off the discussion of your resignation. He wouldn’t leave you unsupervised so just walking away wasn’t an option, besides could you really leave Izuku? 

Then the child came down with some type of bug and was absolutely miserable for several days. You couldn’t get much sleep as a result, even if his father was home for most of the day. 

---

Izuku finally fell asleep around three in the morning. You napped beside his crib out of fear he would wake up if you so much as changed positions.

Then you woke in Toshi's arms as he carried you down the hall.

"Where are we going," You whined, anxious to be away from the child.

"I told you to rest, instead I find you in the nursery."

"'Zuku is sick-"

"But he's asleep, there are baby monitors, not that he won't wake the whole city up with his cries. You've been up for nearly two days with him, time for bed."

But he wasn't taking you to your room. Instead he dropped you on to his bed.

"What are you doing?" You snapped.

"I don't need you sneaking back. I can keep an eye on you here. I'll take care of him if he starts crying." He rolled in next to you.

The bed was huge but so was your boss. "Stop wiggling."

"Well I can't get comfortable."

“Fine,” he said and pulled you into him, “now stop it and get some sleep.”

You burned with embarrassment, turning silent after several attempts at protest. Just as you began to drift off, Toshinori's hand moved to beneath your shorts. You shut your eyes, pretending not to notice. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing. Then his fingers grazed the spot where your skin met your panties.

"I know you aren't asleep yet, darling."

You didn't respond, opting to keep up the façade.

"Mmm, are we playing pretend? I don't mind."

You gasped, pushing at his hand, "I'm trying to sleep."

"I can see that," he chuckled. "I'm just helping you wear yourself out. You've been taking such good care of the baby, let me return the favor."

He jerked your hips, pressing you tightly against his bulge.

"You've been such a good mommy."

God the way you could feel your body responding made you hate that he was a villain.

"'M not-" You gasped as he did his fingers into your thighs. "His mom."

"You sure about that? I know how much you care about him. Always rushing to him when he’s cranky, never taking any days off. You make sure he's a happy little baby and you take such good care of his daddy. Isn't that's what mommies do?"

A moan slipped through your lips, "Stop."

"Are you sure? It seems like your having such a good time," he teased, sliding his hand to find your wetness.

Your body jerked involuntarily. He wasted no time tearing off your layers. Your determination quickly fading.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he pushed a finger in to your warmth.

You shivered at the sensation. Before you could register his actions there was another digit. He skillfully maneuvered his fingers to prep walls.

"What a tight like cunt," The man cooed. "So perfect and pretty. Just waiting for me to claim."

You gasped as he curled his fingers in you. Tears of pleasure pricking your eyes.

"Atta girl, I think you're ready to take daddy's cock."

You shouldn't be surprised when you saw how absolutely hung your boss is. There was no way the whole thing would fit inside of you.

Without hesitation All Might slowly began to press inside of you. The head of his cock already made it feel like you were tearing.

"Wait wait wait," You cried. "Too big."

He paused, reassuring you, "I know you can do it baby. You're okay."

You shook your head violently.

With a sloppy squelch he withdrew. He disappeared momentarily, give you much need time to breathe. Then he was back and you felt a cool, slick fluid rub against you. He applied a generous amount of lube knowing full well that if he played his cards right you'd happily be his forever.

Regardless there was still a painful pressure as he forced himself deeper.

"You're doing so good, taking me so well."

He was slowly increasing the speed off his hips. All you could manage was incoherent whines as his momentum bounced you back and forth.

"Toshi, Toshi," You panted.

"I don't think so baby girl," he slapped your thigh. "You know what I want to hear."

You couldn't be rational, not when he was pounding into you. All you knew was pleasure in this moment. How could you not give the man what he wanted when he was fucking you dumb.

"Mmm daddy, hurts so good."

"Ah- fuck yeah. I knew you were a little pain slut. You want me to fuck you like a whore and then treat you like my little princess?"

You nodded, gasping for air.

"You've been such a good little mommy, I think you deserve this little treat huh?"

You didn't respond, stubbornly refusing to tell the man what he was desperate to hear.

He shifted to a painfully slow pace as he would pull almost completely out just to slam back into your abused whole.

"And here I thought you wanted to cum, I can always stop here, finish myself later-"

"No! No no no, don't stop."

"Then repeat after me: I'm such a good mommy."

As you stayed silent until he began to move at a snails pace. So close to losing your high.

"O-kay, okay, I-I've been a good mom-mommy," You cried tried to buck against the giant.

And just like that your boss was pushing you back to the edge of an orgasm. You were sobbing from pleasure and frustration.

"I know,” He growled. “Fucking good girl, taking care of our baby while daddy's working. You're gonna look so pretty knocked up. All glowing and swollen. Bet your tits are gonna look so pretty when they get full. Gotta keep you stuffed with my cum so our little boy can have a sibling."

[extasiswings]

“i’ll keep you warm” eddie has a nightmare post-shooting 👀 (or however you wanna write it!)

This was not supposed to be this long...rated M-ish for some mild smut at the end. On ao3 here.

The thing Eddie remembers most about the shooting isn’t the shot itself, or the pain, or even the fear—it’s the cold. The icy numbness of shock curling down his spine, twisting through his veins like tendrils of frost creeping across a windowpane in winter. Cold, as his pulse skyrocketed, his body’s signals all crossed and confused and trying to circulate blood, not seeming to grasp the fact that his blood was seeping out onto the asphalt beneath him, that trying to circulate it faster was just making it worse. Cold, like he was a stupid kid at camp diving into a frigid lake before dawn, except above him was blue sky and a bright sun beating down and the fact that it was Los Angeles in May didn’t do a damn thing to help.

He couldn’t feel it. He could only feel the cold.

Buck, though—Buck, he felt. Buck’s hands burned, on his chest, his neck, his face, so warm that Eddie almost wanted to flinch away, but he didn’t. He was aware enough to realize that if Buck was warm, he was probably telling the truth when he said he wasn’t hurt. And that was good. That was all he needed to know.

The cold—

Eddie’s been through enough in his life to know that his subconscious works in weird ways. After Afghanistan he dreamed more directly of burning helicopters and gunfire, blood in his mouth and smoke on his tongue. Shadows and screams and guilt. After the well his dreams were of Christopher, Shannon, waves crashing on a beach. And Buck. Sunlight.

This time...this time Eddie dreams of drowning. Trapped beneath ice, his hands slamming against it, eventually forced to inhale—water flooding his mouth, his throat, his lungs—cold, cold, cold—

Sometimes after he wakes he’ll spend hours shivering. Phantom chills that won’t go away even when he wraps himself in blankets.

The therapist he’s mandated to see before he can be cleared for work tells him that the brain doesn’t always process trauma by taking the most direct path. Eddie doesn’t know why his has fixated on this. The cold. Maybe it’s just easiest. Because the shooting—

His chest gets tight when he’s walking in open air. Sweat breaks out across his brow when the sunlight glints off of windows. His pulse races.

He can’t breathe.

It feels a little like drowning.

“Do you feel safe?” Dr. Kingston asks one session. And Eddie thinks about freezing in a grocery store parking lot, gripping the edge of a cart to keep his hands from shaking, thinks about Buck curving a hand around his shoulder, solid and warm—

“Sometimes,” Eddie admits. “It depends.”

“Depends on what?”

He tastes the lie on his tongue before it slips out.

“I don’t know.”

*

When the world shut down and Eddie had to leave Christopher with his abuela so that he could keep working without worrying constantly that he was putting his son at risk, Buck’s was the obvious place to go. And Eddie doesn’t know if things would have been different if it had been just the two of them but Hen and Chim deciding it was also the obvious place for them to go meant there weren’t a lot of options for sleeping arrangements.

So Eddie shared the bed with Buck. And it didn’t matter if either of them wound up wrapped around the other, the lines of their bodies pressed close enough to bleed together. If they curled into one another like plants twisting to find the light.

It was...instinct. To seek comfort. Warmth. Touch. Both of them alone for so long, and just needing—

Needing.

They never talked about it—there wasn’t anything to talk about. If it made Eddie’s heart race, if it made him ache for something he hadn’t expected and didn’t wholly understand, if when he returned home alone again his own bed felt too empty, that was his own problem.

Now, though—

Now, he knows. Because he stood frozen on the street and stared at Buck with Carla’s words in his head—make sure you’re following your heart—and realized oh. It hadn’t just been convenience, it had been love. Need and desire and love.

Now, he knows, but doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge, with the awareness he has suddenly. Buck is living in his house, in his space, helping him with Christopher and with his own recovery, making sure he takes his meds and gets to his appointments and does his exercises. Buck is there all the time and it’s a blessing and a curse because Eddie burns whenever Buck touches him.

And Buck touches him. A lot.

He hadn’t at first, right after Eddie came home from the hospital—Eddie would catch him sometimes looking like he wanted to, but holding back, reaching out but stopping himself, and Eddie never asked why. Even now he doesn’t think he ever needed to—he knows what it’s like to be afraid, to be unsteady, adrift, worrying that touching something you expect to be solid will reveal it’s just an illusion. Not wanting to find out if it is.

But Buck touches him now. And sometimes Eddie will wake up to find that Buck’s migrated from the couch in the living room to a chair by his bed, folded in and fitfully asleep. Buck never says, but Eddie’s pretty sure it’s so Buck can reassure himself that Eddie’s still breathing.

Eddie understands that need too. Sometimes he isn’t sure himself.

The first time it happens after Buck’s relationship with Taylor has flamed out—for himself, he and Ana have been over since just after he left the hospital—Eddie finally just gets up.

“Buck.” He curves a hand around the side of Buck’s neck and passes his thumb along the edge of his jaw.

Buck startles awake, looking somehow guilty.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I? Sorry, I know it’s—I can go back to the—”

“Will you just come to bed?” Eddie interrupts before Buck successfully talks himself into leaving the room. “Please?”

Buck’s eyes flick down to his shoulder. He swallows hard.

“I don’t want to—”

Oh.

“You won’t hurt me,” Eddie promises. “Okay?”

Buck searches his face in the dark, but if he sees anything, he clearly doesn’t mind because he nods and gets up from the chair. When they both resettle on the mattress, Buck only pauses for a moment before curving around him like a parenthesis, his arm falling across Eddie’s waist.

Eddie’s breath catches.

“Is this—?”

Eddie closes his eyes and sinks into the embrace. If it feels just a little bit like cheating because he hasn't told Buck how he feels, that’s between him and god.

“It’s fine,” he assures, then adds to make it a little more fair, “you aren’t the only one who needs—you aren’t the only one.”

Buck relaxes at that, his grip tightening a little with newfound certainty.

When Eddie dreams, he doesn’t drown.

*

“You look good,” Dr. Kingston acknowledges two weeks later. “You’ve been sleeping better?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “I stopped having nightmares, so I haven’t been waking up as much.”

He catches the surprise that flickers across her face.

“They stopped completely?” She asks. “Have you been doing something different or—?”

Eddie shifts in his chair and clears his throat. What is he supposed to tell her? That he stopped having nightmares when he started sleeping with Buck every night? He’s not really ready to unpack that with his therapist—he’s barely ready to unpack it in his own head.

“Just lucky, I guess,” he says. Dr. Kingston puts down her pen and levels him with a long look that tells him she knows that’s bullshit and is trying to decide whether to push or let it go until another time.

She lets it go.

“Well,” she replies. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Eddie feels like he’s dodged another bullet.

Later, though, he wonders if he shouldn’t have said more. If he shouldn’t have asked questions. Because he goes to sleep and—

The water is pitch black and freezing. Eddie’s eyes sting, but it doesn’t matter whether he keeps them open or not—there’s nothing to see. He kicks his legs anyway, swims up, up, up, even though it hurts to make his limbs work when they’re so cold. There’s a faint light—the surface—and he kicks harder, desperate to reach—

Ice. Nothing but a sheet of ice, solid and thick. His lungs burn from lack of air, his palms beat against the ice—

He can’t keep moving. It’s too cold. He can’t—

“Eddie. Eddie.” Hands seize him from nowhere, almost too warm, and Eddie could have sworn the ice had no cracks, but he’s being lifted out—

“Eddie.”

He snaps awake, gasping. Buck’s face swims into view, worry painted across every line. His hands are on Eddie’s shoulders.

They’re so warm.

Eddie shivers.

“You were hyperventilating,” Buck says. “I thought—”

“Just a dream,” Eddie grits out, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. He still feels frozen. Stupid—it was a dream, it wasn’t real, so he shouldn’t—it shouldn’t be this difficult.

He shivers again.

Buck’s brow furrows deeper.

“You’re shaking—are you cold?”

Eddie sits up and scrubs his hands over his face. He swallows back the denial on his tongue, the urge to run away and hide in the bathroom until a scalding shower makes him feel somewhat human again. Maybe he can’t always be honest with his therapist, but he can be honest with Buck.

“Yes,” he admits. “But it’s not—it’s just in my head. When I got shot I—it’s hard to explain but, yes. I’m cold. Freezing. I don’t know how—”

He cuts off and Buck shifts on the mattress, reaches out slowly so Eddie has plenty of time to stop him if he doesn’t want to be touched, and finally wraps his arms around him, pulling Eddie firmly against his chest.

“I’ll keep you warm,” Buck says quietly. And Eddie—

Something in him cracks. Not like ice during a thaw, but resolve after too much time of being worn down, pressure applied in precisely the right spot. He’s raw and ragged and his scarred heart hardly feels like anything anyone should want, but he’s so tired of pretending he hasn’t been trying to press it into Buck’s hands for a year in different ways. He’s tired of not asking and being afraid and waiting. He’s tired—

Buck makes a soft sound of surprise when Eddie kisses him. But he doesn’t push him away. And Eddie can’t help himself from pressing closer, curling one hand into Buck’s shirt and the other around the back of his neck and kissing him again and again and again, feeling altogether too frantic. He’ll probably find it in himself to be embarrassed in the morning, but want and desperation have left very little room for shame at the moment.

Buck kisses him back. His hands drop to Eddie’s hips as Eddie does his best to climb into his lap.

“Eddie,” Buck pants between kisses. “Eddie—I—” His head falls back and Eddie takes the opportunity to continue his exploration down the exposed line of Buck’s neck.

“Should we talk about this?” Buck finally manages, even as his own hands flirt with the hem of Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie freezes. The answer, of course, is yes. But talking is the last thing he wants to do when part of him still feels chilled to the bone, not wholly alive. He wants to be touched, wants to be consumed, wants to fall into orbit around Buck’s sun and never leave.

And it’s late. Dark. The two of them, the bed, the very room caught in a liminal space where anything could happen, anything could be said, anything could be forgiven. Eddie can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a dangerous one.

His mouth drags along the edge of Buck’s jaw.

“This isn’t because I wanted someone and you happened to be here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He doesn’t look at Buck’s face. It’s easier to not, to focus on something else. He stopped going to confession a long time ago, but he never had to look directly at his priest either, always some curtain or other barrier obscuring things, lending the illusion of privacy, anonymity.

“I’m in love with you,” he admits, and Buck’s hands flex on his hips. “I’ve been in love with you. So we can talk about this if you want, but—”

In an instant, Eddie’s on his back, the rest of his sentence swallowed up by the tongue sliding into his mouth. Buck is a warm, solid weight on top of him, pinning him, anchoring him, and Eddie finds he doesn’t mind when it forces him to be in the moment, reminds him that he’s fully in his own body.

“I love you, too,” Buck whispers when the kiss breaks, and then he’s pushing Eddie’s shirt up and off and dispensing with his own—

Shannon was his first. Eddie wasn’t hers and he remembers being glad that at least one of them had some idea of what to do because the second she touched him he was so overwhelmed by sensation that he could hardly think.

This is…not dissimilar. Buck’s chest presses flush against his, all warm, bare skin, and Eddie feels like he could drown in a different way. He arches up, seeking Buck’s mouth again, and Buck obliges.

Eddie’s focus narrows to certain points—the slick slide of Buck’s tongue against his, Buck’s hand ghosting along his ribs, the careful space between their hips and the low burn of heat in his gut that makes him want to close the gap—

His hands slide up Buck’s back slowly, his fingers tracing the knobs of Buck’s spine, the sharp edges of his shoulder blades—they dance along the line of his shoulders too, sketching the breadth that he’s noticed but never allowed his thoughts to linger on. His touch is careful, reverent, as if Buck is a holy thing that his stained, sinner hands have no business touching. Perhaps, in a sense that’s true.

He’s never been a very good Catholic, but sex—sex, desire, love—sex has always been something…sacred to him. In high school, he shied away from the locker room-style conversations about who went how far with whom, kept out of any discussion involving lamentations about still being a virgin at graduation. For one thing, he thought they were usually crass and disrespectful. But mainly he just—he didn’t care about waiting until marriage or anything like that, but he always knew he wanted to be in love. Hence, Shannon. And why there hadn’t been anyone after her.

Until now.

Eddie kisses Buck until his lungs ache, but he’s not close enough, feels like he can’t get close enough. One of his hands slides into Buck’s hair, but the other trails back down, presses lightly on Buck’s lower back as his own hips rock up, seeking friction. Buck swears against his lips and closes the distance—Eddie can feel him hard in his sweatpants and flushes, dizzy at the thought of having made that happen, dizzy at the thought of more, dizzy—

He feels very much like a clumsy teenager again, fumbling his way through on instinct. At least this sort of thing is familiar, even if he hasn’t done it with a man before. Buck grinds their hips together, the friction sending sparks through every one of Eddie’s nerve endings, and kisses down his neck, teeth scraping over his pulse point. Eddie gasps and Buck hums, low and pleased, against his skin.

And then, just as he thinks he’s used to the slow burn of pleasure, Buck shifts his weight and slides a hand down to toy with Eddie’s waistband. Buck meets his eyes in the dark and swallows hard.

“Can I—?”

This time, when Eddie shivers it has nothing to do with the cold.

“Please,” he rasps, and Buck smiles before tugging Eddie’s pants down just enough to wrap his hand around Eddie’s cock.

Buck’s touch is a little tentative at first, clearly unused to the angle, and the part of Eddie that’s still capable of noticing that spends a brief moment feeling grateful that he’s not the only one lacking in experience here. But what Buck may lack in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm, experimenting with grip and speed and pressure to figure out exactly what to do to make Eddie gasp again, to make him bite his lip, to make him hide his face in Buck’s shoulder to muffle any louder noises he can’t quite hold back.

It doesn’t take long. Even before the shooting, Eddie rarely bothered to touch himself with any sort of regularity, and during his recovery he had even less of a reason to do so, what little energy he had in the first few months better spent elsewhere. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed it. But clearly his body did because his orgasm hits him like a train when Buck spits into his hand for extra glide and twists his wrist on the upstroke. He bites Buck’s shoulder and Buck’s hips jerk and then he’s just floating—boneless, breathless, and utterly wrecked in the best possible way.

Buck collapses on the mattress next to him as Eddie’s catching his breath—Eddie reaches out, his hand skating over Buck’s stomach, and makes a questioning noise. Buck laughs quietly and catches his hand, bringing it to his lips.

“I, uh—I’m good,” Buck promises, and even in the dark Eddie can see his cheeks flush.

Eddie curls into his side. “Really?”

Buck kisses him. “I don’t think you realize how long I’ve wanted to do that. Or how good you look. So, yes, I already—yes. Really.”

Eddie’s lips curve up. He presses a kiss to the edge of Buck’s jaw. As the immediate aftermath wears off, his eyelids start to grow heavy, his limbs moving a little less easily.

“We should probably shower,” he acknowledges, although the strength of the statement is likely diminished by the yawn that interrupts him halfway through.

“Probably,” Buck agrees, but he too makes no move to actually get up.

Pressed against him as he is, Eddie is warm and sated and content. He drifts, skirting the edge of sleep.

“I love you,” he says again. Because it feels important.

Buck hums. If he says something else, it’s too low for Eddie to catch.

When he dreams again, he doesn’t dream of drowning. He doesn’t dream of the cold.

Instead, there’s just light. Just warmth.

Just Buck.

[smutsonian]

Baby if you're taking requests can you do a slight darkish! Step daddy Ransom x naive!reader with daddy kink and innocence kink? The marriage was kinda a deal for money and like reader's mother died after marrying him due to some disease or accident and that has left her alone in Ransom's custody. Feel free to use any other kinks or things you like,also if you don't feel comfortable with any of the above mentioned kinks then you don't have to use them.❤️ I love you and your writings!!!😘

getting his little angel

ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: soft!dark!ransom drysdale, innocent!reader, dub-con/non-con, smut, stepdaddy!ransom, loss of virginity (i cringe), fingering, daddy kink, innocence kink, guided handjob, like one slap in the p, manipulation?, obsession, size kink?, creampie, corruption, ransom’s fucked up mind, age gap(reader is of age), death, the amount of the word angel and daddy used in this fic is annoying and cringe for me, this is dark and twisted so proceed with caution if you choose to proceed, don’t read if you aint fvcking with this type of sh*t

word count: 4105

an: THANK YOU NONNIE AND I LOVEYOU!!///i keep begging my friend to read the stories i write for validation and we are both getting tired of me writing the word daddy and me showing how obsessed i am with ddlg wtf anywayy... have fun with this one 😩 alsoo, gif aint mine

masterlist

Ransom married the woman for the sake of her money but he never thought of her daughter to be the treasure he’ll truly get from the woman. The daughter isn’t like every other young adult he’s ever met or bedded with. The daughter of the woman he married is different. Not a vicious little bitch like his cousin, Meg. No… The girl is different. An innocent pure little soul just living with him, there for the taking. A little angel that will give him joy and luck in his life. 

 And just his luck, and as evil as it sounds, he got blessed when his wife started to become sick just after a few months into their marriage. His wife becoming ill became the reason for him to bond with his little angel so he can comfort her and he became the man she found solace in. She started trusting him.

 And then the wife died, leaving Ransom with all her treasure. Including Y/N Y/L/N. The greatest treasure that he will ever have. He had to thank his wife for leaving you to him. For leaving you broken-hearted because he had no problem with taking care of you and helping you stand right back up on your feet. He wanted to do all that. He wanted you to believe that he’s the only person that you will ever need in your life. 

His little angel.

 It took a few months for you to stop sobbing every single night in Ransom’s chest as he cuddled you to sleep and another few months until the bundle of joy you were before started showing itself again. 

 The moment you laughed at Ransom’s jokes for the first time had him frozen in place as he watched your teeth shining as the corners of your lips curled up into a toothy grin. Ransom was captivated. He was captivated at the sight of you laughing genuinely for the first time after your mother’s death and he wanted to take a photo and frame it so he can look at it every single night before he falls asleep and every single morning when he wakes up. He wants to see your smiling face every time he wakes and before he falls asleep, knowing that he’s the reason for that enchanting smile.

 “Is something wrong?” Your small voice brings Ransom back to reality and he realized that you have stopped laughing, the beautiful smile on your face replaced by a frowning confused one instead.

 Ransom ignored your question, walking towards you and trapping you against the kitchen counter. He wears a smirk before using his big hands to brush your hair smoothly, the coldness of the ring on his pinky finger brushing against your cheek gently. Ransom bites his bottom lip as he looks at your innocent eyes staring right back at him, your head tilted up so you can see his face clearly.

 One hand moves to your chin and his thumb brushes your bottom lip, softly rubbing on it while Ransom’s mind went somewhere else where your mouth is wrapped around his cock as you sport your usual innocent look, asking him for help on how to pleasure him. Daddy’s little angel.

 Ransom pulled his hand away from your face before silently groaning at how his slacks became tighter as his crotch started getting hard at the thought of your mouth around his cock.

 “You know you look so pretty when you laugh.” He sighs out before patting you on the head and walking towards the door before stopping and turning back to look at you palming your own cheeks as you wear a small smile. His heart skips a beat for a second before he nods at you.

 “I like seeing you smile, angel. I wish you would do it more often. It’ll make this old man happier.” He wiggles an eyebrow at you before chuckling at the sight of you laughing once more.

 “There it iss” He smiles at your shaking form, wondering what you would look like if you were shaking for other reasons…

 “You’re not that old, Ransom!” You say in between your laughs and Ransom couldn’t remove the grin on his face as he watches you laugh at him.

 “Oh you’re laughing at me, are you?” Ransom quirks an eyebrow and watches you as you stop laughing, looking at him with a faux frightened look before he started running after you, eyes ringing in delight when you squeaked against his hold when he caught you, his fingers poking on your sides with no mercy.

 “No! No more!” You gasp for air as you continue to laugh.

 “R-Ransom!” You whined and just like the few other times, Ransom’s mind went into a gutter. Would this be how you sound when you’re moaning his name while he pleasures you? 

 Ransom pulls his hand away from you before letting out a breathy laugh. “Alright, angel… See that smile is so adorable on you!” He pinches both of your cheeks before laughing at the way you glared at him.

 “No more tickles, Ransom. That hurts my sides.” You groaned before walking away from him only to be stopped by him pulling you back against his chest. His chin was on the top of your head before he mumbled an apology. “I’m sorry, angel. I wouldn’t do it again. Don’t be mad at your daddy now.” You pull away from him, watching him pout at you. You curiously raise an eyebrow before shaking your head with a laugh. “It’s okay.” You grin before grumbling when he messes the top of your head with his huge hand.

 Ransom didn’t miss the way your face contorted into a confused look when he tried to get you to call him daddy. He’s been there for you a long time now. It’s time for you to be there for him as well. And Ransom is a really needy man with a lot of need when it comes to you.

No worries.

 He’ll make sure to teach you everything you have to know to be his perfect little angel.

 Ransom was sat on one of the lavish chairs that your mother used to obsess about when she was still alive while he’s munching on some biscuits that he got from the pantry. He silently thanks the old lady who still does the groceries for the both of you. He stares back at the screen that’s currently playing one of those rom-coms that he always found ridiculous but entertaining.

Lost in his own thoughts, Ransom absentmindedly looks at the hallway that leads towards the kitchen only to see you skipping into the kitchen in a pair of leggings and a sweater that he gave you as a gift. He smiled at the thought of you wearing his sweater instead. Preferably after he’s done giving you an intense orgasm.

Feeling a bit hotter, Ransom removes his coat, leaving him in his soft white sweater. He lets out a grunt, fixing himself on the sofa and turning back towards the flat-screen tv. His hand wanders down to his pants, palming himself through his slacks while his other hand reaches for another biscuit.

Ransom’s heart jumped when you suddenly plopped yourself down on the sofa, legs on top of his thighs while the hand that was palming himself flies towards the air before landing on your legs.

“HEY, those are my favorite!” You point towards the biscuit that he was currently munching on. Ransom’s jaw clenches at the discomfort in his pants while your legs brush against his raging hard on. There’s no doubt that you have no idea what you’re doing to him or what your legs are currently brushing up against.

“Can I have some?” You give him a pleading look that only made his cock harder. He bites his lip as he squeezes your legs. “You gotta ask nicely, angel…”

“Can I please have some?” You repeat, voice as sweet as honey and the cause of the precum that slowly slicks the slit of Ransom’s thick girth.

Ransom lets out a groan before snatching a piece of biscuit and moving it towards your mouth, snatching it back when you went to take it from him.

“Ah-ah-ah. We’ve been together for a long time now… Is that right, my little angel?” Ransom laughs at your frown before you’re nodding at him curiously.

“I think it’s time that you call me daddy, right? I mean… I’ve been taking care of you, right? I’ve been treating you with so much love, is that right?” Ransom lets out a moan shamelessly at the sight of your innocent face nodding at him unknowingly. “You’ve been treating me very well…” You mumble under your breath but Ransom still heard you.

“Yeah… I’ve been treating you like my best girl. Like the best girl you are.” He brushes his pinky across your cheeks before pressing the piece of biscuit onto your bottom lip. He gave you a stern look before shaking his head when you went to open your mouth.

“You gotta ask nicely, angel… Who are you asking and what are you asking for hmm?” He leaned down towards the side of your face to sniff on your hair, chest grumbling in delight at your scent.

“Can I please have a biscuit, daddy?”

Ransom inhaled obnoxiously loud before smirking while nodding his head at you. “Such a polite little angel, aren’t you? Of course you can… Here, open that precious mouth.” He taps the biscuit on your bottom lip, shoving it gently inside your mouth, purposely grazing his fingers down your tongue. He watches you chew on the biscuit as you stared right back at him with those innocent eyes. His fingers massaged your chin as you chew, shoving them right back inside your mouth when he sees you swallow the biscuit.

 “Is it good?” He asks you, fingers assaulting the inside of your mouth. You nod your head, hands grasping the wrist that’s connected to the fingers in your mouth. Ransom felt you tugging his hand away but he only shoved his fingers further down your mouth, slightly pulling away when you started gagging on his fingers.

He lets out a chuckle before pulling his fingers completely out of your mouth, admiring the string of saliva that connected from your lips to his fingers. “Daddy has a lot of things to teach you…” He leans back before manipulating your body until your back was against his chest and your legs were spread apart by his own legs.

He takes another biscuit before shoving it into your mouth, fingers gripping your jaw as you chewed on the food, crumbs staining the sides of your mouth. “Just like that” He grumbles against your hair before skillfully tugging your leggings and underwear down until they were all the way down to your ankles. He didn’t give you enough to complain because his fingers were back inside your mouth, playing with your tongue and playfully teasing the back of your throat.

“Breathe through your nose, angel. Relax for daddy.” He whispers in your ear while his free hand caresses your face. “There ya go… Such a fast learner, aren’t ya?” He lets out a laugh before kissing your cheek and removing his fingers from your mouth. “You get a reward for being such a good girl”

Ransom’s wet fingers goes straight to your crotch while his other arm wraps itself around your torso to pull you closer to his body. His legs kept your thighs open so it was easy for him to tease the nub on your crotch.

“R-ransom…”

You let out a loud squeak when he slaps your pussy, legs shaking against his legs while he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“What’d I tell you to call me hmm? Come on, I know you’re a smart little angel.” He resumes playing with your clit, enjoying how responsive your body is to his touch.

“Nggghh” You squirm against his hold, chest heaving as she struggled to control her breathing. Ransom is willing to bet your mother’s fortune that you never experienced this type of feeling before. “Tell me what you’re feeling, angel”, he starts flicking his fingers faster until your crying desperately and hiding your face against his arm. He stops assaulting your clit, hands finding its way to your face to comfort you with smooth caresses. Ransom admires the sweat that started to form on your forehead and decides to remove the sweater you’re wearing.

Too out of it, you let him fully undress you, too tired and dazed to acknowledge the fact that you’re lying naked on your guardian’s chest. “That feel good?” Ransom asks, urging you to speak to him but loving the way that you laid limp against his chest. Oh it’s so easy to please his little angel. He hasn’t even made you cum yet.

“F-feels good…” Ransom watches you bite your bottom lip, his hold against you getting tighter as his cock gets harder at the sight of you.

“I can make you feel better than that, angel… You just gotta ask nicely. Just like how you asked for the biscuits. Do you want daddy to make you feel good?” His hand find itself back to your pussy, fingers starting its attack on your sensitive clit once more. He wasted no time in trying to get you off because in no time, he feels your body shaking against his and he knows that you’re close.

“You gotta ask for it nicely, angel… Tell daddy what you want” Ransom demands, the arm that was wrapped around your torso finds its way towards your breasts, massaging one and pinching the hard nipple. You whine out loud before gasping for air as you tried to speak coherent words.

“Daddy can y-you p-please…”

Ransom chuckles at your lack of words. Of course his little angel wouldn’t know what to ask for.

“You want daddy to make you cum?” He suggests, knowing that his smart angel would get what he wants her to do.

“D-daddy, can you please m-make me cum?” You repeat, words hoarse but understandable by a proud Ransom who starts rubbing your wet clit faster as he bends his head down to suck on the tit his massaging.

 “HHNNNNGGG!” You whine loudly, going stiff against Ransom’s hold before shaking tremendously as you reach your very first orgasm. Ransom’s hips thrust against your back as he gets needy from the sounds you’re making and the sight of your body trembling against his. He starts running his hands all over your body, whispering praises against your ears to comfort you.

“Such an angel…” He kisses the side of your face before guiding your body gently back to the sofa so you’re sitting beside him. “That feel good?” He asks, licking and sucking on the fingers he used to make you cum.

“Mhhmm…” You nod as you mumbled your answer, too embarrassed in front of him. “Don’t be shy, angel… You’re just being a good girl. Wanna know why I made you feel good?” Ransom waits for you to nod before continuing with a smile.

“Because you were such a good girl!” He nudges your chin with his fingers before placing his large palms on your shoulders. “And good girls always get rewards from their daddies. What do you say huh? Wanna be a good girl and help daddy with his problem?” He palms his covered crotch before smirking at your wondering eyes that’s looking down at his bulge. His jaw clenches at the sight of your curious face.

“H-how can I h-help?” Ransom chuckles at your nervousness before taking hold of your hand and guiding it towards his bulge. He watches your face as he makes you palm his hard on, thrusting against your touch in neediness and groaning at your tongue wetting your own lips.

Ransom releases your hand before tugging his slacks down and taking them off before sitting back on the sofa and taking your hand once more, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft and moaning loudly at the pleasure you’re currently giving him. “That’s it angel… Ahh fuck!” He guides your hand into a faster stroke, wrapping your fingers around his cock tighter as he thrusts his hips against your hand, groaning loudly and shouting praises towards you. “Such a fucking good girl!” His eyes shut tightly as he feels himself getting closer.

“Fuck!” He hisses, abruptly pulling your hand away from his cock, chest heaving as he tries to slow down his breathing. “You almost made me cum” He mutters, laughing silently when you started to mumble out apologies.

“No, my little angel. That’s not a bad thing… I just want to cum somewhere else…” Ransom bites his lip before removing his white sweater and tossing it on the floor. In a heartbeat, he’s on top of you, fingers running all over your body in a comforting manner.

“You want your reward, sweetie?” Ransom asks with a teasing tone. “You’ve been such a good girl. I think it’s time for another reward.”

Your eyes widen in shock when you feel his lips against yours, gasping when his tongue started to poke its way through your lips before assaulting the inside of your mouth like his fingers did earlier.

Ransom’s mind started ringing when you started moaning and whimpering against his lips. Oh he’ll make his little angel feel so good. He’ll make you feel so full.

He managed to situate himself in between your legs while continuing the sloppy and needy kiss you two were having. He strokes his already painfully hard cock with one hand before sliding it against your folds to lube himself up with your juices.

He pulls away from the kiss as he lines his cock against your slit, smiling at the way that your legs shake when he bumps your sensitive clit with the hard head of his cock.

Ransom’s smile falters slightly when your hands start to push on his chest. “I-I’m scared”, your voice trembles as you try to push him which is really useless because his huge frame doesn’t move an inch.

Ransom takes both of your hands with one of his huge ones before trapping them above your head and diving down to capture your lips into another hungry kiss. “Don’t be scared. I promise to make you feel so good”, he says through the kisses, licking your tears away before resuming his wet kisses on your mouth. “You want me to make you feel so good, right angel?” Ransom smiles through the kiss as he feels your hesitant nod.

Ransom holds your hands tightly with one hand while the other hold caresses the side of your face in a comforting manner as he shoves his hard and thick cock into your tight hole, swallowing your cries with his hungry kisses. The hand that was caressing your face wipes your tears away as he shushes you. “It’s going to feel so good in a bit angel. I promise.” He stays inside your cunt for a while, making you feel weird at the fullness that his cock is giving your untouched pussy.

When Ransom feels your hips bucking up against his, he smiles and looks down at you with bright eyes. “You okay now? Want me to move?” Ransom gets an eager nod as a response and he only let out a short laugh before starting to pull out and shoving back into your tight cunt with a loud grunt. “So. Fucking. Tight.”, he hisses with each thrust.

“Mmmf. Mmm. Oomph.” Your moans and whines start to get louder as Ransom’s thrusts get sloppier because of the wetness that your cunt continues to produce. “Oh fuck you’re so wet for me angel”, Ransom watches his cock pound into you and he almost cums at the sight but he’s determined to make his little angel cum again before he could spill himself inside of her pretty pussy.

Ransom lets out a grunt before easily manipulating both of your bodies so you were straddling him, his cock still deep inside your cunt.

He places your hands on his shoulders for support before moving his hands on your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. “I’ll teach you how to ride daddy like a good girl soon but--”, he lifts you up and makes you stay in that position before moving one hand closer to your cunt so his thumb can start playing with your clit again. “—but for now, I’ll just ram into this tight pretty pussy”. Your eyes slams shut and your head falls on his shoulder when he thrusts his hips up in strong stroke, hands gripping you tightly as he guides your body against his, skin slapping each other as he pounds your pussy from under you.

He uses his other hand to push your shoulder away from him so he can see you clearly. “NGHH AH s-soo good!” Ransom watches you bounce on his cock while your eyes opened to look at him with those innocent eyes. How can you still look so innocent while he’s under you, making you take his cock as a fucking whore would.

“D-daddy s-so good”, your face is in a daze as Ransom doubled his efforts seeing you so close and feeling himself getting close as well. “Daddy making you feel good hmm?” He slams and slams his cock into you with vigor that it would probably leave you with a sore pussy for a few days.

Your shoulder starts quivering and Ransom feels you trying to stop him from bouncing you on his cock but he ignored it and continued to control your body. He slams his cock into your cunt a few more times, thumb rubbing your clit faster until you’re crying out loud as another orgasm hits you.

Ransom watches your eyes rolling back and your mouth opening as loud moans escape your mouth. He leans forwards to capture your lips once more before giving you a few more thrusts until he feels his balls tightening and snapping as spurts of cum come out of him and into your wet hole.

He lets your body fall on him as he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back comfortingly and rocking you slightly that earns a whimper from you when he accidentally moves his cock that’s still inside of you.

He waits for the both of you to catch your breath before gently pulling his cock out of you and bending down to snatch his sweater off the floor.

He looks back at your face, your eyes fluttering as tiredness starts to envelop your body. He puts his sweater on you, smiling at how you look in his sweater. You look so much better in his sweater. And you look so beautiful with his cum dripping out of your cunt and face glowing at how he fucked you so good.

He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead then your lips. “You okay angel?” He laughs at you when you only nod sleepily at him. He picks his slacks up from the ground before putting it on and then he picks up your old sweater and uses it to clean you up, gently wiping his cum off your thighs.

He stands back up to admire you, so beautifully fucked. He’ll forever remember the way your pussy pulsed around his cock as he cums inside of you.

He lets out a dreamy sigh before picking your sleepy body up and walking towards the hallway, passing by your old room and into his room. Your room.

He lays you down on the bed as gently as he could before smiling when your face contorts into a frown when you groggily look at him. “How are you feeling angel?”

“G-good but tired.” Your quiet voice touches Ransom’s heart and he could only take a blanket before laying down beside you and tucking the both of you in. He presses a kiss on the side of your head before whispering a “sleep tight, my little angel.”

Ransom was about to close his eyes when he hears your voice again, making his heart leap out of his chest.

“I like being daddy’s good girl.”

Oh Ransom loves that too and he has a feeling that his little angel will continue to become his pretty little good girl so she’ll get all the rewards she can get.

And Ransom is willing to give you all the rewards he can give because you’re his one and only good little angel.

-------

an: no eating out or gobbling on the d cuz come onn... they were just eating those damn biscuits 🤧

taglist

General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox @anncutamarica @chaoticfiretaconerd @i-love-superhero @caffiend-queen @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @jennmurawski13 @mushyjellybeans @ninjabucky @evnscvll @buckstaybucky @donutloverxo @rebloggingeverything @adriannajackson Anything Chris: @patzammit @princess-evans-addict @shadowcatsworld @notyourtypicalrose @onetwo3000

this fic: @kyrarose16 @tokoyamisstuff

[caravelmp3]

UNDER THE CANYON MOON

pairing: josh kiszka x female!reader warning(s): mostly fluff, just brief mentions of alcohol and sex  word(s): 2k note: hi hi hi !! this is just a little something i wrote up the last couple of days with the inspiration of light my love, canyon moon by harry styles, and the interview where josh talked about road-tripping the u.s. last summer <3 i don’t write one shots often but let me know what you all think bc i might shuffle some more out soon lol. hope you all enjoy !! :) 

The Los Angeles sun was hot, beating down onto the city basking in its late-summer hues. You parked your car on the street in Silver Lake and carried a bag of food and drink tray to the door of a recording studio, more than prepared to be swarmed by hungry boys who had been cooped up in the studio since five a.m. on the dot that morning. They had a breakthrough the night before with a new song, and after getting home and going to bed for a few hours, the creative juices started flowing again and they were back in the booth. 

A windchime on the door sang as you pulled the door open and walked inside, greeting their manager who was at a table by the door. 

“The boys here?” 

“Down the hall,” he nodded, pointing a finger in the direction of the hallway. “They’re more rowdy than usual so be prepared,” 

You laughed and turned down the hall, walking towards the studio. The walls were decorated with memorabilia of rock and roll greats and record plaques, and among them, you spotted a picture of the four boys with their Grammy award. It seemed like time had passed so quickly. They won the award for the first album and they were already working on their third, shooting them further into stardom. 

“Coffee’s here!” You shouted in a really bad New England accent when you noticed the recording light was flipped off above the door. 

You stepped into the room to a chorus of cheers and “thank god you're here”’s that made you laugh while sitting the food and drinks down on the table and they all rushed over. You handed out the specific orders and pointed to which drinks was theirs when they got handsy and tried to grab everything from her out of both excitement and some desperation for caffeine. 

“Our savior,” Jake said, reaching out and grabbing your shoulders to give them a gentle shake before taking the coffee you were holding out to him, and then you handed Danny’s to him, too. 

“Just the coffee girl here,” 

“Well, you’re a little bit more than that,” Josh said, walking over to the table to grab his full cup. 

You pressed a hand against the table, leaning over to him. “Just a little?” 

“A little bit,” he shot you a wink before swiftly pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You were more than just a “little more” than the coffee girl, you were typically their designated drunk driver, the one who took all of their candid photos, the mediator in times of need, and well, the girlfriend of the lead singer, too. 

Everyone in the studio took their food and drinks and scattered among the seating area in a break from recording. Instead of one tiny room with all of them cramped together, they had a wide open space with booths for the different instruments and bean bag chairs and big comfy, velvet sofas, and there was dim lighting with deep toned rugs that gave off the vibe of a more relaxed feel rather than the fluorescent-light, tiled-floor feeling that made them feel rushed and confined by rules they didn’t set themselves. 

You liked the studio, too, and often took naps on the sofa while listening to them play instruments individually in the recording booths and while they were writing. One night they had found you at two a.m., bundled up with a blanket on the bean bag chair after they spent the night writing in the front room on the piano, but it wasn’t the first time as you often napped in their Nashville recording offices, too. 

“You guys been busy today?” You asked jokingly while lowering onto the sofa armrest, receiving nothing but glares shot in your direction. “Okay, okay, touchy subject,” 

With a mouthful of bread, Sam pointed to Josh, “Josh finished a song, didn’t you?” He was grinning. 

You hummed in joy and surprise, grabbing Josh’s knee as he sat next to you. “Really?” 

It had been a rough few days for all of them as they tried to shuffle out a few more additions to the new album. It felt incomplete with something missing, but they couldn’t quite put their finger on what it was exactly, so they attempted to bring back and revamp old songs, write and record new ones, but nothing seemed to stick, until now. 

“Yeah, wanted to wait and show you later, but someone can’t keep his trap shut.” Josh said, pretending to be serious before cracking a smile and taking a sip of his coffee. “Just wanted it to be a surprise,” 

“Well it can still be a surprise, I’m surprised now,” you said. “Can I hear it? Or read what you got?” 

Josh nodded and stood, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him. There was a little recording room fit with a piano inside, his writing journal placed on the music stand where he had scribbled notes and keys and melodies in pen. He picked it up and handed it to you. 

“Nothing seemed to click until last night, when I started putting it together.” He said. 

“Is that why you wouldn’t tell me what it was when you all got back to the house?” 

Josh shrugged, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, yeah, I wanted it to be special when you first heard it.”

You sat the coffee cup down onto the floor while lowering into the small chair in the corner, holding the journal like it was the most delicate piece of art in the world. In silence, while Josh watched on anxiously, you read the words he had splayed across the blank page. 

     Can you light my love?      Flames glowing bright as the sun      Deeper than oceans you run      Watch as our world has begun 

     Your mind is a stream of colors      Extending beyond our sky      A land of infinite wonders      A billion lightyears from here now

You felt your throat tighten, tears tempted your eyes. 

It was a love song. 

“Josh-” 

“Oh god you hate it don’t you, you dread it, despise it,” 

“Oh shut up, I’m in tears right now, you know I love it.” You looked up at him with a smile and a sniffle. 

His words across the page were sloppy, some cursive, written in different pens of different colors, some lines crossed and scribbled out, others underlined. 

“Your mind is something I will never fully understand.” You told him as he sat down on the chair next to you. “How the fuck did you come up with this-” 

“I was thinking about our trip out here, the week we spent driving out and all of the stuff we did… and how I think I fell more in love with you.” His voice softened. 

You reached out, placing your arm on his shoulder, fingers playing with his curls. “I can’t put it into words how much I love it, how much I love you,” you said, “and you make me sound so lovely when in reality I know I was a pain in the ass that entire trip.” 

“Yeah, but my pain in the ass,” he kissed the inside of your arm. 

Two weeks before the boys left Nashville to head to Los Angeles, Josh called you at midnight with an idea in mind – the two of you renting a camper to drive out to L.A., falling into all of the tourist traps along the way and stopping in random small towns to sleep while exploring the in between, which would definitely beat the boring four-hour flight. And you, half asleep and across the country, agreed. 

It would be fun. Right? 

And it was. Every time someone asked how it went, you called it “the most magical week of my life.” 

While the others waited behind for their flights the next week, you and Josh set off from Nashville, heading west with only the destination in mind and a trusty map in hand. Everything else just came to you both. 

The first stop was three hours in the trip, in Memphis. You and Josh roamed Graceland on Elvis Presley Boulevard and had lunch near Sun Studio before taking in the mementos and relics at the Blues Hall of Fame where Josh talked your ear off, rattling off more details about each band and singer than was on the info-cards on the wall. 

Then it was two hours to Little Rock, falling asleep in the back of the camper after a take-out dinner outside of a random supermarket. Sitting in lawn chairs in the middle of a parking lot, you held Josh’s hand under a blanket and watched the pink sunrise over the hills, and then it was back on the road again. 

From Oklahoma City to Amarillo, you fiddled with the map when Josh got lost after a wrong turn in a small town where he insisted on seeing the giant 66-foot LED soda bottle sculpture, and in the middle of northern Texas, he made it up to you by cooking your favorite dinner. You thanked him in a quiet whisper as you crawled into the bed with him that night, sliding under the covers where he greeted you with warm hands and kisses against your neck that made you squeal with the tickle of his mustache and he grinned against your lips. 

Josh got to choose the music all the way through New Mexico – Neil Young and Crazy Horse to John Denver’s Thank God I’m A Country Boy, and you were only able to squeeze in Joan Baez every hour when you stopped to stretch your legs on the side of the road, belting the words to him while he laughed at your voice cracks. 

And after you both pitched the tent in the Petrified Forest in Arizona, Josh hummed the tune to some new song while you two sat under the midnight stars in the canyon with a roaring fire, his arm around you, his sweatshirt draped over your shoulders. When he tried to start telling you a scary story after you heard a weird noise outside the tent, you blindly hit him in the dark and accidentally hit his nose, causing you both to burst into laughter after the initial panic left. He laughed loudly into your shoulder as you held his face in shock, catching the scent of your lavender lotion, and his body relaxed when the laughter died down, feeling so at peace in his life with you there. 

It was the tail end of the trip, but the excitement hadn’t died down yet. After showers in the camper in the middle-of-nowhere-Arizona and five hours west, you and Josh found a bar outside of Las Vegas that resembled Coyote Ugly, so you both had a round of tequila sodas and margaritas before walking around the small town that evening and sleeping off the tipsy-headaches in the air conditioning. On top of the covers, you looked at Josh napping in the sunshine, cheeks flushed red, curls poofy from the wind, and you felt your heart grow in your chest before falling asleep next to him. 

And then came Los Angeles, the final stop, the dreaded one. But you and Josh didn’t tell anyone that either of you were sad to be back with them in L.A. when they asked, and instead, you two smiled and hugged everyone after piling out of the camper in the drive-way of the Silver Lake house. 

Cleaning out the camper, tossing cheesy novelty t-shirts at each other and laughing at how many socks you two managed to lose along the way and how many bug bites were added, watching the developed clips Josh had filmed of scenes in the desert and you asleep in the passenger seat, you both were nostalgic about a trip that just ended. 

It was so easy, so freeing to just be together on the road, with only the destination in mind. It revealed a part of them that the other didn’t see often, like your tendencies to get your lefts and rights mixed up while giving directions, and Josh’s equally awful sense of direction didn’t exactly pair with the fact that he was a maniac while driving in the first place. 

But those parts were just added to the long list of why you and him loved each other in the first place. So you became the designated driver after Amarillo and Josh stuck to telling you “left or right” for the rest of the time. It was a compromise, another reason why you two worked so well together. 

It was a form of love in itself. 

“We’ll have to drive all the way back to Nashville then, so you can write more songs about me.” You teased. 

Josh rolled his eyes but cracked into a grin a second later. “Let’s not get too carried away,” but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t always mentally reliving the night under the canyon moon.

[littlepupthoughts]

Warming Up to You Chapter 2

Aprox: 1,700 Words

CW: SMUT. thor x loki x reader. size difference. soft!thor. dom!loki. puppy!sub!reader. Intoxication(dub-con). Petplay. The word cunt. minor restraint. fem!fingering. overstimulation. a little degradation/namecalling. praise. threeway. orgasm denial. Oral: (fem and male receiving). a little aftercare. being overwhelmed.

AN: well here is chapter two! This is where we get nice and smutty. Let me know your thoughts on a more innocent take on Thor. And well your thoughts in general! If you like my work I am also currently taking requests!

______________________________

“Would you help me play with her?” Loki’s voice echoed in your head as you desperately waited for an answer. So many emotions swirling through your head, embarrassment, fear, hesitation, and excitement. The excitement was rushing through your body making your nerves tingle and mingling with the fear making your heart race. The only sounds in the room were the droning of the infomercial and the loud thumping of your heart, then it all seemed to stop as you heard a content hum with a quiet “yes.”

Loki began moving first, sitting up and closing the recliner chair. Then he offered his hand out to you, you reaching out to take it. The three of you file in to Loki’s bedchamber as he gently rubbed his thumb over your hand to calm you, nervousness bubbling your brain. Loki waved his and removing both of your clothing as you laid on the bed, he kept your attention on him by gently tracing his fingers up and down your body.

He leaned in hovering his lips next to your ear, “this is going to be so much fun my little one. Remember you need to play nice with him, I don’t think he has ever played with a submissive before. Will you be on your best behavior for me?” You nodded enthusiastically, the nervousness lessening as your brain began softening. Thor had finished undressing and laid down facing you, you looked over to him. He lifted his hand to touch your chest but hesitated, you gave him a reassuring smile then your eyes fluttered as his large warm hand pressed against your skin.

“She’s.. so small,” He half mumbled to himself half to Loki. He propped himself up on one arm to better explore your soft skin, his large hand engulfing you in a heat that spread under his touch. He treated you so delicately as though he was scared to break you, a gentle giant showing through his usual boisterous self.

“Mmm, yes she is. My lovely little toy,” You were too distracted by Thor’s hand to notice Loki’s trailing his way down your stomach. You flinched slightly as his hand cupped your mound feeling the warmth radiating from you. The moment you flinched Thor pulled his hand back worried that in his intoxicated state he had hurt you and your fragile midguardian body. His worries dissipated as he heard the breathy moan that escaped from your lips.

Loki took Thor’s hand in his and pressed it down to replace his over your cunt with a smile. He got to his knees and moved to straddle your shoulders, his cock looming over your face getting harder by the moment. Your arms were trapped between his legs as he began lazily stroking himself just inches from your face. He looked down at you his blue eyes boring in to yours, his lips twisted in to a wicked smile. Thats when you felt it, a finger slipping between your folds playing in the wetness that had pooled there. He was spreading it around using the slick to glide over your clit making sparks shoot through the little bundle of nerves. He kept moving, never staying in the same place long enough to do anything more than tease you and drive you mad. Coaxing more and more of your juices to trickle out of you and on to his rough fingers.

You couldn’t help but whimper pathetically as you struggled against Loki’s legs, his cock starting to glisten with precum. Your hips rolled desperately trying to rub against Thor’s fingers. Suddenly they were gone. Your eyes welled up in frustration and you whined loudly, feeling the bed shift next to you as Thor moved out of view. Your heart was pounding in your ears when you felt your knees be lifted, separating your legs. Warm breath suddenly hit your aching mound and you didn’t have time to register what was happening before a wet tongue licked a long stripe up your pussy.

“Look at my needy little slut, you love this don’t you?” Loki purred. You could hear the lust in his voice, and the lust in yours as you responded.

“Y…Yes sir”

“Is he playing nicely with my little bitch?” he asked, tilting his head mockingly. You could only nod your head gasping as Thor’s tongue begins circling your clit, as if to further prove himself to you.

“Use your words pup, he can’t understand you.”

“YES! Yes sir!” you cry. Thor hummed against you in response, greedily lapping at you. His hands clutching your thighs tighter as he began sucking on your clit, flicking his tongue over the engorged bud ruthlessly. Your eyes grew wide as pressure built up in your core making you writhe. You desperately tried to speak but your pleading only came out as a whisper to Loki but he understood.

“Not yet.” your heart plummeted in to your stomach as you held your breath. Loki moved off your chest his dick twitching madly dripping precum on you as he kneeled at your side. Thor looked up at you buried between your legs, his beard against your raw skin. With your arms freed you reached down grabbing a fist full of his hair pulling him closer, grinding down on his mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut in concentration using every ounce of will power to not cum, the pressure in your core building further.

“Open your eyes pet, I want him to see your face when he makes you orgasm,” his tone left no space to question his orders, especially with the promise of release. Your eyes met Thor’s below you, his eyes were dark with lust and made you feel like prey trapped with a predator.

“You may come now y/n.” You screamed as your muscles spasmed, lightening shooting through you. The pressure that had built up exploded as you writhed helplessly overwhelmed by the pleasure. Thor’s eyes never left yours drinking in every single moment. The intensity began to ebb away and you gasped for air. Your hands shot up grabbing at the sheets trying to wriggle away from Thor’s mouth still licking at your overstimulated cunt, lapping up every drop leaking out of you. His began to let up when Loki cut him off, “No Thor, keep going. I think my sweet little pup needs more.”

Your eyes were still locked on Thor’s as his speed picked back up. This time he began focusing more on your entrance, using his tongue to explore while his hand reached up to part your lips and rub his finger over your swollen clit. You couldn’t help but close your eyes seeing fireworks behind your eyelids. Your hands quickly reached down with the intention of pushing him away but not quickly enough. Loki climbed back over you locking your arms back at your sides. You opened your mouth to protest only to be filled with his precum covered cock. He pressed it deep in to your soft warm throat muffling your gargled moans. You felt it spasm as he began pulling it back out only to ram it back in deeper than before.

Your mind was fading in and out, overwhelmed by the assault on your body. You started to feel floaty and fuzzy as the pressure began building up again the sensation making you writhe under the weight of Loki’s body. His cock was cutting off your oxygen and making the situation feel unreal. Nothing was real except the tingling heat spreading through your veins, Loki buried in your throat, and the wet tongue lapping at your swollen lips.

Then a new sensation burst in to your mind. A finger began slipping inside of you, painfully slowly it started exploring. Thor’s tongue continued it’s relentless dance on your clit while moving steadily deeper in to your heat.

“Loki! Please please please, I need to come..I can’t!” your words came out an unintelligible garbled mess.

“What was that little one? Do you need to come?” He was still sliding himself in and out of your throat making speaking next to impossible. “Again? Already?” You were almost crying at this point. Jumbled sounds spilled from your lips.

“Come for me.” he snarled.

And you did. While your insides spasmed around Thor’s finger he slipped in another making you feel even fuller, making your orgasm even more intense. Your moans and gasps vibrated around Loki’s cock pushing him over the edge. His hands reached down grabbing a fists full of your hair pulling you closer. Ropes of cum came shooting out of him coating the inside of your throat, you gurgled and sputtered as he kept coming. So much teasing and holding back for so long made his release powerful. He threw his head back, the growl that escaped his lips turning in to a moan. You struggled to swallow all of his seed as he slowly pulled out letting you gasp for air.

Your gasp turned in to another earth shaking scream. Thor had found your g-spot and was curling his fingers against it ripping another mind breaking orgasm from your exhausted body. The overstimulation burned through you, electrifying every cell of your body. You reached an impossibly high peak, tears streaming down your cheeks as Thor gently brought you back down.

You were broken, your body spent and your mind shattered. A whimpering mess drooling from your mouth and leaking on to the bed. Both of the gods laid down next to you panting. Loki petting your head and gently placing kisses on your cheek, murmuring praise. He wiped some of the drool off of your face and you let out a moan of thanks as your heavy eyelids started fluttering closed.

“Aww little one don’t fall asleep just yet, we aren’t quite finished.” You barely registered his words.

“You don’t want to be rude to our guest, he took such good care of you. It is only right to return the favor.” This time you understood what he was saying, Thor’s pulsing cock twitching against thigh confirming his words. You nodded starting to smile.

“That’s right little puppy, I know you are aching for more. Such an obedient little play thing.”

[inknopewetrust]

interruptions (Henry!Sherlock x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Reader and Sherlock can never get a moment to themselves, especially when Enola and Mycroft are in the house.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female Reader (Enola Holmes)

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Light smut, some language, mostly second hand embarrassment.

A/N: this is like not good at all but i wanted to write it so here we are i guess lol. (gif not mine but the scene definitely influenced this)  

“So if you sink the black and white one, the game is over?”

“Yes, but only if you sink it before you’ve finished shooting and scoring on the other object balls.”

Sherlock moved around the pool table in one of the many studies in his childhood home to angle himself just right to shoot the cue. Although he was playing no one, he wanted the shots to all be perfect.

On the other side on the pool table, you sat in a chair in front of the fireplace with a book in your hands. You weren’t really reading any of the words on the page because your mind was elsewhere. It was instead very much occupied with thoughts of the man just a few feet beyond your own spot, concentrating on the game rather than you. 

“And how many do you have left?” You asked him, not looking at him because pool wasn’t the least bit interesting to you.

“Five plus the eight.” He responded and the room sounded with two balls colliding and one falling into the leather pocket.

“Four plus the eight.” He corrected then and you closed the book just enough so one of your fingers was holding the page you were on. You turned in the chair, facing him as he stood directly across from you on the other side of the table with his pool stick next to him firmly planted on the ground. 

“Why?” He inquired as soon as his eyes met yours and he couldn’t help but see a mischievous twinkle in your own. 

“No particular reason. Though, I do recognize that it is greatly passed supper and I would like to eat before I go to bed.” 

Sherlock nodded at you and picked up the stick, ready to shoot another when you closed the book fully. The rough snapping of the pages together drew his eyes up to you in the chair and the lightest smile was gracing your face. 

“And?” He asked and you shrugged, raising an arm to rest on the armrest of the chair and letting your fingers sweep the skin under your chin briefly before moving your index finger to your lip. You watched his eyes follow your finger as it ran across your bottom lip and then you bit down on it lightly, smiling at him as the pool game was now far from his mind. 

“More like or.” You continued but stood up from the chair, walking slowly to one side of the pool table and leaned up against it, putting the book down on the velvet that lined it and intentionally in front of the ball he was attempting to sink. 

“Or we could just go straight to bed?” You proposed and an eyebrow propped itself up on your face. You hoped that he was receiving the signal but Sherlock was a smart man, it’s not something he would have missed in a million years.

Sherlock hummed to himself and looked as if he was still studying the game in front of him as he rounded the table and stood just to the side of you. You looked expectantly and perhaps the only answer you needed was the way his eyes went from your own to your lips and then trailed down the rest of you. Sherlock put the pool stick against the bookcase and trapped you against the table, his hands grasping the green velvet bumpers but his hands were not far from your body. He teased the fabric of your dress with his thumbs and he bit down on his bottom lip.  

He his eyes were telling of how he felt even if he didn’t say it out loud. You were a bold and he knew what you wanted because he wanted it to, but being in the house with a snobbish brother and a sleuth of a sister, intimate moments lacked greatly since your arrival two weeks ago. 

“Or-” Sherlock proposed and you couldn’t help but let your hands run up his arms and move to fiddle with the top button of his brown patterned vest. 

“I could be so tempted to take you here now and then we can get supper afterwards?” He let you guide him down by the vest, just close enough where his lips were hovering over your own and the curled piece of hair that always becomes undone tickled your forehead. 

“Your choice, Holmes.” You spoke softly and he took the opportunity then and there to capture your lips with his down, grabbing at the fabric of your dress to hoist you up on the pool table. Your legs spread out so he could stand flush against you, his hands no longer gripping the bumpers but one on your waist and the other held the back of your neck. 

Sherlock’s kiss was searing and passionate, riddled with a need for you as it quickly grew within him. Your hand yanked at the bowtie and let it fall to the floor. Sherlock broke the kiss and his lips moved from your cheek to your ear and his hot breath was agonizing as he pulled you against him again with a groan as you ground your core against him. 

“If Enola or-” 

“They won’t. Stop worrying so much.” You breathlessly muttered back and Sherlock moved his hands to grip your thighs that were just hanging off the table, moving the dress, bunching it upwards so he could feel you, not all the fabric of the dress. 

You gave up on the fastened shirt buttons when they simply wouldn’t budge as easy as his vest had and placed your hands on his. With your help, you guided his hands under the dress and along your legs to where you needed him most. Your lips found Sherlock’s again and his tongue fought for dominance against your own and he let out a muffled moan when your hands left his and palmed his growing member. 

You rubbed him over his pants and his forehead rested against your own. One of his hands moved gripped at your thigh tightly, bruising in tension and he let out a lowly chuckle. 

“If you keep doing that, dinner won’t be on the table later.” 

“If I knew this is all it would take for you to fuck me I wouldn’t have waited all day.” You smirked at him and he slowly untied the corset you were wearing, letting you breathe better as your heart was already racing out of your chest. 

“Just fuck me already, Sherlock.” You whimpered impatiently as he tossed the corset aside and you undid his trousers. He kissed your neck and down to dip in the dress you were wearing, paying attention to every piece of skin he could find. 

“Why are you in such a rush? They are in bed and Stop worrying so much.” You could have slapped him for using your words against you but your mind was too occupied with the man against you and the situation at hand. 

Sherlock moved his hand under your chin and held it for a moment, looking in your eyes and taking in the disheveled woman in front of him, entirely need for him and what he could give her. He placed a kiss on your forehead before slowly meeting his lips with your own once more, but not in a passionate, needy way. He was slow and romantic, and he took all the time in the world with you as he would any one of his famous cases. 

He could sense the restlessness and want returning quickly, but before he could fully remove any of the dress to enter you, a shriek sounded from the doorway and the both of you froze like statues. Your back was to the intruder and Sherlock’s eyes went wide in shock, that yes, in fact you both have been walked in on. 

“Oh my God.” You could hear the horrified voice of Enola in the doorway and Sherlock’s head turned quickly to her with a mortified look on his face. Enola couldn’t even meet his eyes after walking in on her brother and you in a very compromising position and both not proper at all. Enola was not the least bit of a proper young lady, but this was something she never wanted to see. 

“Enola!” Sherlock managed to say in a slightly scolding manner but the girl ran off before either of you could try and salvage the situation but the mood had quickly shifted. 

You couldn’t recall if it was five seconds or five minutes before the both of you tried to fix yourselves, putting everything back into a proper place and forget what happened but her shriek had woken up Mycroft and as Sherlock helped you re-tie the corset he had taken off moments ago, Mycroft appeared in the doorway with a look of disgust. 

“Oh you are kidding me!” He looked absolutely dumbfounded and as you braced yourself against the pool table, Sherlock tying as quickly as possible to get away from the prying eyes and the judgmental stare of his brother. 

“Does presentation mean anything to you? We are trying to help her become a lady and you two, you two- do this!?” Mycroft yelled and he looked utterly ridiculous in his slippers and robe with his hands on his hips. 

“I-We thought everyone was asleep.” Sherlock replied. You felt his hands at the bottom of the corset, signaling he was done with the ties and you ran a hand over your dress, smoothing it out and looking Mycroft in the eye. 

“Being intimate with someone doesn’t make you less of a lady, Mycroft. Perhaps if you had sex with someone you would know that.” You huffed and walked out, passing him as he almost jolted in the opposite direction of you and into the hallway. 

“You’re just going to let her talk to me like that? She isn’t even your wife! Do you like harlots now or have you always been this way?” 

Sherlock cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes at Mycroft. He walked slowly up to him and managed to tower over him enough to where Mycroft was intimidated by his brother. 

“Call her that again and I won’t stop her from beating you to a pulp the next time she sees your face. She may not be my wife now but one day she will be and I am not going to let you intimidate her with your weasel words, brother.” Sherlock spat at him and left the room as well, finding you waiting for him in the dimmed hall. He took your hand in his and as you walked throughout the house and just down the hall to the bedchamber of Enola, you couldn’t have been more proud of him for standing up to his brother. The two of you knew you had to talk to her otherwise it would be entirely too uncomfortable to even stay in the house. 

Standing outside of Enola’s door, you looked at Sherlock with an apologetic look and he shook his head at you. 

“We didn’t know she wasn’t asleep, it’s no one’s fault.” He reassured you and squeezed your hand before knocking on Enola’s door and opening it slightly. 

“Enola?” 

“Go away.” She mumbled from her window bay and refused to look at Sherlock or you as  you entered the room fully and kept your distance.

“Enola, I want to apologize. We didn’t know you were-” Sherlock began and Enola turned her head quickly, her eyes angry and judge-y. 

“You couldn’t just wait until you were in the proper place? My brain will NEVER be able to unsee that! I don’t care what you do on your free time but please don’t ever, ever do that in public.” Enola pleaded with her brother and Sherlock nodded but you stifled a laugh at her horror. She was a girl, she had never loved someone before so for her this was horrifying but for you and Sherlock it was mortifying. 

“We certainly didn’t want to see you either, Enola.” You told her and she shook her head and got up, walking over to her bed and crawling under the covers. 

“Just don’t do it again and do not mention it at breakfast tomorrow.” Enola was adamant about it and bid the two goodnight, pulling the sheet over her head and trying to think of everything but her favorite brother having sex. 

When the sun rose the next morning and Enola found herself at the table alone. With no one to eat with, she reminded herself that she had no desire to go searching for her siblings to get them to eat with her. She was just beginning to dig into her scone when Mycroft came down the stairs and sat down at the head of the table. He didn’t say a word but looked like he hadn’t slept a wink last night. Enola thought if she said one word to him that he would fly off the handle and she would have been right if she tried. 

She finished the scone and moved on to her eggs when she saw you and Sherlock walk down the stairs, not dressed in day clothes but still in pajamas, and entered the kitchen. Mycroft glanced up and dropped his toast when he saw you wearing Sherlock’s silk robe and Sherlock not in a suit. The two of you bustled about in the kitchen, filling plates with food and Sherlock grabbed two cups of tea, turning to look at Mycroft who was already staring. 

“Don’t worry brother, we know our actions are not wanted at the table, so we are going to have breakfast in bed.” Sherlock gave Mycroft a toothy smile and you managed to glance at Enola when you picked up the two plates and gave her a sly smile. Sherlock nudged your shoulder and you looked him, his eyes creased on the edges in happiness and motioned for the door. 

“Also, don’t bother coming to fetch us today, the door will be locked.” Sherlock ushered you out of the kitchen and the two of you couldn’t suppress the laughter that built up after the look on Mycroft’s face dropped. 

That day was a good day and eventually, after Enola had grown up a bit more and discovered her love for the Tewkesberry lad, she understood the looks her brother would give you and would eventually just leave the room if she ever saw them again, not wanting to ever be in that situation again. 

[buckyownsmylife]

Do I wanna know? - Chris Evans smut

The one where you’re pregnant, and Chris can’t keep his hands away from you.

Warnings: smut, masturbation, dirty talk, daddy! kink, kind of breeding kink?, possessiveness but kind of in a cute way?, pregnant reader

A/N: Day 10 of kinktober prompts were pregnancy and watching the other get off. Still publishing smut unrevised because I can’t be bother to both write and revise everything in the same day, so if anyone wants to become my beta, I’ll love you forever.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Even when my belly was barely visible, he was already incapable of keeping his hands to himself, always holding, and rubbing and kissing and then his hands would go a bit lower and he’d find me wet and ready for him, like I always was.

Only now that I was big enough that I was waddling my way everywhere, it was like I was some sort of visual viagra for Chris. He was always hard, always in need of my help to get through the day. Our sex life had never been slow when he was back into my arms, but now it was impossible to do anything without finding myself getting pounded by my boyfriend wherever we could find any semblance of privacy.

Which was why when he gave me those puppy eyes after seeing me take off the dress I’d put on for our weekly date night, I decided it was time to try something new. 

“Chris, I physically can’t have your dick inside of me anymore, at least not for a few days,” I warned him, holding the hands with which he was trying to grab me to pull me against his body. “I’m serious.”

He was full-on pouting, now, and I could see from the corner of my eyes that there was already a tent on the sweatpants he had put on to bed, so I sighed, getting on my tiptoes to deposit a quick kiss on his lips, and quickly running away before he could grab me again.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do…” I started, sitting on our bed by the headboard, and stretching my legs open as I held my nipples between my fingers. “You’re gonna sit on that chair by the corner of the room, and you’re gonna play with your cock as you watch me play with myself.”

He groaned, immediately wrapping his hands around himself over the sweatpants and almost falling over his own legs while trying to reach his seat. “Fuck, you look so sexy, princess… If you could only look at yourself right now.”

The sight of him licking his lips as he stared at me, sprawled out for his viewing pleasure, had me whimpering. Fuck Christopher Evans and his eyelashes and his stupidly pink mouth. “You like it, daddy? This is yours, all yours. I’m all yours, baby.”

I pulled on my sensitive nipples, just enough to get me whining. I really was roughed up from the amount of times I’d had Chris inside of me the last few days, but if I was gentle enough, I’d be able to still put on a show for him and pleasure myself without hurting my lower parts.

“Shit, yeah, baby. Pull on those sweet nipples for me. I love sucking on them so much, I can’t wait to see our child drinking from you.” Fuck, one of the things I loved the most about my man was how filthy he could get when we were down to business.

“Oh, yeah, daddy? What about this pussy, so you like tasting it?” I allowed my hand to travel further down my body, until my middle finger was grazing my opening and I could use it to circle my clit. It was so enlarged from my hormones getting me horny despite the fact that I’d been fucked every single day of the week that this simple touch felt like heaven, making me throw my head back and expose my neck to Chris, who cursed at the sight of my breasts bouncing slightly from the sudden movement.

“Hell yeah, baby girl, I love it so much. You taste so fucking sweet, I miss it every single time I’m not down on my knees, with your legs over my shoulders. Collect some of that wetness and taste it yourself, honey. Want you to understand why I love eating that pretty pussy.” He’d made me suck on his fingers after they were inside of me a thousand times, but doing it myself, under his watchful gaze, made the whole thing so much hotter.

He was right, I was sweet. But I don’t think I would have appreciated it as much if he wasn’t looking at me like that, like he wanted to devour me whole, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, the veins in his neck popping from the restrain he was exercising as he tried to keep himself from cumming.

His thick cock, the reason for many of my wet dreams, was dripping from it’s red tip, and I had to bite my own lip to contain my desire to have him in my mouth. There was always time for that later. Right now, this little experience we were sharing was more than enough.

Chris’ P.O.V.

“So fucking hot, baby. I love you so much. I could spend the rest of my life between your legs and I’d die a happy man. And you’d let me, wouldn’t you? It doesn’t matter that your pretty little pussy is red and abused, if I asked you to spread your legs for me, you’d do so in a second.”

I had to chuckle at the long, drawn-out whine my girlfriend emitted at my words. “Don’t whine, baby. You know how it gets me too fucking hard when you whine like a pretty little baby. If you whine, I’ll have to put you over my lap and punish you.”

She gasped at my words, her little fingers finally plunging inside of her hole as she stared down at me with those fuck-me eyes. Oh, how I loved her. She was my partner, my equal in every single way. 

“I don’t think we can get any kinkier, honey,” I joked, squeezing my dick as I watched her thrust her fingers inside of her pussy. She let out a tiny choked up laugh at my teasing, still too busy with chasing her high as I watched her from the chair.

“I don’t know… I can think of a few new ways to experiment when I’m no longer knocked up.” I growled at her response, suddenly feeling my cock throbbing against my fist. Not only the knowledge that she truly was as horny as I was, and up to try new things anytime, already had me feel like cumming, but the reminder that she was pregnant with my child almost made me lose control then and there.

Of course, the visual reminder was there, and I fucking loved it - it was the main reason why I’d been unable to keep my dick in my pants these last few weeks - but to hear it in her mouth, it only made the entire experience even more real.

“You like being pregnant with my child, baby? You like knowing that I ruined you for any other man, because the only cum you’ll want between your legs is mine?” Her breath hitched at my words, her movements on her clit accelerating, as I mirrored in my own cock. “Tell me you love my seed, honey. Tell me you love the fact that I turned you into a mommy, that you can’t wait to be knocked up by me again.”

It was enchanting to see her cumming, and one of the many reasons why I knew I had to have her for the rest of my life. I couldn’t imagine myself without her anymore, and I wanted to be the one bringing (or, in this case, witnessing) her pleasure until our dying days. 

The sight of her mouth hanging open, her fingers deep inside of her - where I wished I could be - and her breasts jumping from her effort to get more air in her lungs had me cursing as I, too, reached my own high, spurting cum all over my stomach. 

“You okay, honey?” I asked after I grabbed a wet towel to clean ourselves with, sitting by her side on the bed, where she laid like she didn’t have any ounce of energy left in her body.

“Yes,” she guaranteed me, but I could hear it in her voice that she was almost asleep already. “Chris?” She asked as I softly ran the fluffy fabric in between her legs, and I hummed to let her know I was listening. “Why are you so attracted to the idea of me being pregnant?”

My lips twitched up in amusement at her question, but nonetheless, I knew the answer already. “I like the idea of the world knowing you’re mine. Yes, it’s possessive, but that’s me, and I know you love me, sweetheart.”

I kissed her little nose as I curled up behind her, my hands protectively holding my unborn baby and my very sleepy baby mama. “I do love you, you absolute caveman,” she joked, and with a laugh, I went to sleep with barely contained excitement for the next day, when I would finally be able to add a ring to the list of physical evidence that she was mine and mine alone.

[iwishtobeastorm]

Congratulations on your 200 followers! I’m proud to be one of them! Can I request a Frankie Morales with plus size reader? Maybe reader thinks that Frankie likes someone else? 🥺 angst and fluff? Thank you so much in advance, I love your writing.

“I was afraid I’ll lose you.“ “Never.“

A/N: Thank you so so so much babe! I'm so grateful you're following me and that you like my work. 💕 When I saw you requested Frankie I almost fainted because I love the man more than anything and I couldn't wait to finally write something about him. I hope this angsty fluffy thing won't disappoint!

The most dangerous thing - Frankie Morales/Chubby!F!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word count: 2200+

Celebration | Masterlist

It's as if everything around you stopped, the whole world just froze, the sounds got drowned by silence, the light turning into darkness as a huge wound opens in your chest sucking in all the warmth that you felt after Santi's last joke. You can't look away, your wide opened eyes filling with tears, before Benny nudges your shoulder, taking you back, your gaze snapping to him, the loud roaring of the bar fills your ears as you're met with the baby blue of his irises, watching you with worry. "Y/N, are you okay?" He speaks softly, his hand squeezing on your shoulder. You don't know what to say. You're sure he can tell perfectly you're not okay by the hot tears running down your cheeks. "Uhm, sure. I just need a minute," you murmur, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands as you rise from the table, rushing to the toilets before any of the boys come back to sit down or before Benny's able to stop you. You close the door behind you, locking in, before you lean your back against it, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle your sobs as you slowly slip to the ground, clutching your knees to your body, your tears now coming in burning streams, blurrying your vision. All of this for one man.

You've met the boys while working at the bar as a part-time job to have more money to cover your university life. You immediately grew to the whole group, spending maybe too much time joking around with them for your boss's liking. They've always flirted with you, or most of them did. Most of them, but never Frankie. And you being the little fool you're, of course you fell in love with him. He was always quiet and shy, never holding an eyecontact for too long, never teasing you. He rarely spoke to you at first, which made him even more attractive in your eyes, more mysterious. But when he started talking to you? Oh boy. You learned how smart he is and so perceptive, while he told you about a new book or an article he read or that caught his eyes, while he waited for the rest of the group and you hanged on his every word, watching him with unhidden fascination. You know he's older than you, but that doesn't mean the two of you couldn't work together. Actually you think you two would make an amazing couple. You can imagine falling asleep in his arms while he reads to you or spending the weekends with the boys, playing pool or cards like they sometimes do, as Benny told you once. You could get used to the life with him more than easily, but those are all daydreams. The longer time you've known them, the more you found out about Frankie and his past. You got to know he's divorced and has a little daughter and that all of the boys served in special forces, that's where their nicknames come from. The more you've heard about Frankie the more you grew to him. A few months ago you were invited to Benny's b-day party and ever since that, you hang out with them from time to time. You know you technically don't belong there, but they never made you feel like the third wheel, more like the little princess they all have to protect as your knights in shining armor. That's when you got significantly closer to Frankie. You two found yourself caught up in your own conversation more and more often, sometimes leaving the noisy company of the rest of the boys, just sitting on Millers' patio in the rocking chairs and talking about everything and nothing, laughing together until your ribs got tough sometimes. Frankie brought out a part of you you didn't know you had. All of those little things made you believe it was going the right way. You go along well, right? What else should matter? Until today Frankie was late. You were late yourself bacuse you had an important assignment to finish, but Frankie was never late. He was always the first one there, always. It made you worried, because apparently none of the boys knew what was actually going on, until Frankie showed up with a lady by his sight. Pretty one, a bit older than you and much much thinner, making your insecurity thrive. That's why you ran away like a coward, hiding in the bathroom, curled up into a ball on the ground to cry your eyes out. This is not how you imagined this night. You thought it will be the usual. A bit of friendly flirting with Pope, life-check up with Will, a lot of laughing with Benny and nice conversation with Frankie, before you retire to your stinky dorms. Not this. Maybe you could climb out of the window and run away. No, no, you can't because you left your purse at the table. Or maybe you could pretend you were sick and sneak out? That could work, but you're not really prepared to face Frankie and whoever that lady is. You're screwed. "Y/N! Are you in there?" There's a banging on the door, making your form shake with it and you slowly raise your head, wiping away the tears that got stuck on your cheeks and taking a deep breath before responding to Benny's question. "Yeah, I- I just don't feel really well," you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Well, technically this isn't a lie. "Would you open the door for me?" He asks, hint of plea in his voice. "Uhm- just wait a second," you say softly, raising from the ground. You know that if you said no, Benny is able to kick the door open without hesitation. You check yourself in the mirror, getting rid of

any signs you've ever cried, before opening the door, just to find the younger Miller brother leaning against the doorframe, face curved in worry. "What's going on? Are you alright?" He asks, stepping in, letting you close the door behind him. "These are restrooms for women, Benny. You probably shouldn't be here," you murmur, trying to sound like you're teasing him to lighten up the mood and also mainly to avoid answering his questions, but there's no way Benny would let it slip. Not after the anguish he saw in your eyes and the tears that rolled down your cheeks. "Spill it, Y/N. I know something's up," he states, folding his hands on his chest like Frankie does sometimes, the mental mention of him reminding you of the lady by his side and your eyes start stinging again. "I just- didn't feel good," you say softly, trying to sound persuasive. But Benny's way past buying that. "Because of Sylvie?" He asks and you frown softly. "Sylvie?" You raise an eyebrow at him, making him chuckle softly. "Yeah, the lady that Frankie brought with him," he states, making your heart sink. "No," you murmur to respond to his initial question. "Are you sure?" Benny raises an eyebrow at you, leaning his body against the wall, eyes never leaving you, so you have to watch your expression carefully. "Yes. Can I leave now? I really don't feel good, Benny," you say, not really waiting for his approval, reaching for the door to open them, but Benny pushes his arm against it, holding it closed. Your strenght is nothing compared to his, so you know you're trapped. "Let me leave, please," you look up at him. "I saw the way you look at him, Y/N," he states, his gaze softening. Your eyes fill with tears but you refuse to let them fall. Always so stubborn, as Will says. You look down, trying to hide all the emotions your eyes could give away easily. "Why don't you tell him?" Benny asks, leaning against the door. "Because it would be useless. I- I thought he feels the same but apparently he doesn't. I don't need more damage. Would you now let me leave, please?" you say softly, tugging on the door. "It's not like that. Pope set them up. Frankie didn't want it," Benny states. "Does it matter now? He's out there with her on our night, isn't he? And- and he looked happy so-," you clench your jaw, trying to open the damned door but it's useless when Benny's leaned on it. "Get away from the fucking door, Ben. I- I'm not playing," you grumble, the tears slipping over your eyelids and rolling down your cheeks at your struggle. Benny steps away from the door and tries to reach for you to continue with his attempt to comfort you, or whatever that was supposed to be, but you dodge his hand and storm out of the restrooms. You head straight to the table, not looking at anyone, just grasping your purse and murmuring quick I gotta go, before you're out of the door, their shouting of your name rings in your ears even as you walk down the street to your dorms. It's over. It's all over. He left you. He never felt the same. And now you have nothing.

You've spent the rest of the weekend in bed, eating ice cream and watching Bridget Jones, hoping that will heal the aching wound in your chest, but by now you doubt anything ever can. You turned off your notifications on the phone, not letting a single one of the guys know what is actually going on, so Benny remained the only one cursed with knowledge. On Sunday evening you finally get out of the bed and clean up a bit, since your roommate will return tomorrow morning from their visit of their family or whatever and if they saw this mess, they'd probably beat you up, so you play some lazy songs and get into it. Just as you're cleaning up the small bathroom you have, there's a knock on the door. You at first think it wasn't your door, since there's literally no one who could've been knocking at your door at this time, but then it's there again, louder this time, forcing you to turn off the water, wipe your hands and head out to find out who it is. When you open the door, you hesitate the urge to shut them again, your heart squeezing in your chest, making it feel too tight for your liking. "Uhm, hey," you murmur, your eyes meeting the dark brown irises you sometimes dream of. "Hey. I just- can I come in?" He tilts his head towards the inside of your room, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Y-yeah, sure," you murmur, stepping away from the door and letting Frankie in. You close it behind you, biting on your lower lip. There's not much space in your dorm room, so you gesture to your bed so Frankie has somewhere to sit down, while you pour him a glass of water. "So- what is that you need?" You ask softly when you return from the bathroom, handing him his glass of water and biting on your lower lip. "I- I'm here because of Friday," he states and you wish you could jump out of the window and run. "Okay," you murmur, not really sure where this whole thing is going. Did boys send him here because they are worried and they know you two are close? Or did Benny tell them what he found out? Either way you seem to be fucked. "What happened, Y/N? You left in such hurry and- I saw you were crying," he swallows nervously, his grasp on the glass tightening. Benny told them, eventually. It took a long time, lots of beers and lots of pressure from all of the guys but he told them. And Frankie's here to make it all good. "It's nothing," you murmur, adverting your gaze, your cheeks burning. "I know it's not nothing, Y/N. Please, you have to tell me," he reaches for your hand, squeezing a bit on it until your eyes meet his, welling up in tears. "I just- I- I like you Frankie. Like a lot. And- and I just- when you brought Sylvie I-," you take a shaky breath, your throat getting too tight with the sobs you hold back, making you unable to speak. "Shh, come here," he murmurs, grabbing your other hand too and leading you to sit on his lap. You're so surprised you forget how to breathe for a moment as your hands rest on his shoulders, while he cups your both cheeks with his calloused hands, wiping away your tears. "I like you too, darling. Sylvia is Pope's fault. I- I insisted there's nothing I feel to you and he then dared me to take some girl out to persuade him about it. I didn't want to. All I wanted was you. And I realized it fully when I saw you leaving the bar. I just- I'm sorry," he mumbles, sighing through his prominent nose, that you adore dearly. His words make you smile, warming up the empty cold darkness in your chest, finally bringing you back to your usual self. "I was just afraid I'll lose you," you admit, playing with the little curls on the back of his neck. "Never," he says, raising your chin so your eyes meet his and before you're able to do anything, Frankie's soft lips are on yours. He pulls you closer, hands squeezing on your hips, making your cheeks flush red as you run your fingers into his hair. You fight the grin on your face as you realize what this means. You have Frankie now. And Frankie has you.

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

Tag list:

Thank you so much for your support!

@pintsizemama @rosi3ba3z @lovelylostminds @lokigirlszendaya

[comfortwriting]

The Right One - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Prompt 31: “What made you think we were serious?” he spat “did you really think I’d go out with you?”

Requested/About: Fred is in love with his friend Y/N and knows he wants to marry her one day, he makes and move and they are looking forward to going on their first date - but all of that changes when George confesses his feelings for Y/N, to Fred.

A/N: I have a second part to this imagine which is smut based which you can now read: here

Warnings: swearing, mention of food and eating, a cheeky kiss towards the end.

Sitting high up in the stands, you’re watching Fred practice Quidditch, your heart skipping beats each time he flashes you a smirk or a cheeky wink, everything he does make you want him more - whether it be making a pig's ear of a potion, coming up with a new prank, chatting to his brother - hell, he simply breathes and you’re amazed.

Fred is head over heels for you, he already knows he’s going to marry you and whilst everyone is fast asleep at night, he goes over the plan in his head a thousand times making sure that when the day comes, everything will go perfectly to plan.

Unfortunately, the two of you were quite stubborn when it came to making the first move - you were too shy and scared of being rejected, and Fred felt anxious about making you uncomfortable - you were both trapped in the awkward ‘friends but too close to be friends but flirting but not dating’ phase - you not only confused yourselves but those around you who were aware of your chemistry.

The practice came towards an end and you walked down from the stands, your eyes glued on Fred, his veins bursting through his sweaty and dirt-stained hands, his hair standing up in all directions and sticking to his forehead, you smirked and giggled at the sight of him.

“How was it?” you smiled, walking towards him.

Fred paused for a moment, catching his breath and leaning on his broom “not bad” he panted “Slytherin are going to suffer”

You chuckled and brushed the hair out of his eyes, he had a questioning look on his face for a moment.

“Y/N” he said softly “d’you fancy going to Hogsmeade this Saturday, on a date?” he asked you, looking slightly nervous.

You felt as if time slowed down, that everyone else on the pitch had disappeared and you and Fred were the only ones there, instant excitement pooled in your tummy causing butterflies to sprout and take flight.

“I would love to” you smiled widely, blushing and nodding your head “yes!”

Fred smiled just as wide and nodded, pursing his lips and breaking out into another smile “brilliant” he nodded “I’ll meet you outside Zonko’s”

His twin George came rushing over, just as sweaty and dirty, he smiled nervously when your eyes met his, you didn’t think anything of it - George was always more quiet compared to Fred.

“Angelina wants a word” he panted “something about Ron needing extra practice”

Fred sighed and rolled his eyes, “see you later, love” he waved, turning around and following his brother.

“I have a date” you whispered excitedly to yourself “with Freddie!”

Hurrying off, you ran towards the castle, breaking inside and pushing through students and stumbling up the stairs to reach your dorm room, your date only two days away - you needed as much time as you could get to plan what you would say and what you could wear.

It was now Friday evening, tomorrow you would be on a date with Fred and just the thought made you giggle and blush, you told your friends who were just as excited, giving you all the advice you needed for one of the best days of your life. Laying in your bed, you stared out of the window, you were so excited you didn’t know if you were able to sleep.

Fred and George were sitting in front of the fire in the quiet and empty common room, coming up with ideas for their dream joke shop, but Fred noticed that George wasn’t being himself - he kept losing concentration and staring off into space, getting lost in his own thoughts.

“You okay Georgie?” Fred asked, staring at his brother.

George sighed, looking more anxious “if I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?”

“I’m your bloody twin” Fred responded, sitting up in his chair and leaning towards George “of course I won’t say anything”

George swallowed hard for a moment and nodded, trying to figure out how to say this without Fred taking the piss out of him.

“You know Y/N?” George spoke up.

Fred’s heart started to pick up in speed, his attention fully on his twin “yeah, what about her?”

Fred didn’t mention you to George at all, George knew the two of you were close friends but he didn’t see the moments between the two of you that everyone said: “screamed chemistry”.

“I’ve got feelings for her, Freddie.” George confessed, looking away from Fred and staring at his shoes “I just didn’t want to say anything because I know she’s your friend.”

Friend

Fred felt the excitement crush inside him, part of him wanted to stop George in his tracks and tell him that you were going on a date with him tomorrow, but the other part of Fred dominated him - Fred would rather choose the happiness of his brother, who was more shy and quiet, than his own - the twin who had everything he ever wanted.

Almost everything.

“That’s great, Georgie” Fred forced a smile whilst his heart wept “she’s a really nice girl, I don’t blame you.”

A really nice girl that Fred would crush instead of letting her down gently. Fred went to bed and for the first time he didn’t bother going through the plans of the future proposal, then wedding, instead he tortured himself over George being the one to put the ring on your finger, making you his wife. He hid his face in his pillow and cried, knowing how bad he was going to mess things up, but as long as George was happy - that’s all that mattered to him, and he felt sure that you would move on and be much happier with the other twin.

“Ready?” your friend Alyssa smiled, looking you over once more.

You nodded and blushed again “I’m ready, just really nervous!”

Alyssa chuckled and handed you your bag “You’re bound to be nervous, but you’ll be okay, this is exciting!”

You took your bag from her and slung it over your shoulder “thank you for everything Alyssa” you pulled her into a tight hug, making sure you didn’t ruin your makeup or hair.

“Tell me all about it when you get back!” he ordered excitedly, pulling away from the hug and sending you on your way.

Arriving in Hogsmeade, you hurried over to Zonko’s Joke Shop, because you arrived early you had enough time to sneak into the shop and buy Fred some Hiccough sweets and Sugar Quills. Carrying the bag of Fred’s goodies, you waited outside for him.

Five minutes passed, then ten, then you reached one hour.

You felt your heart sink, worries and ‘what if’ scenarios filled your head and drowned out the noise of laughing students that passed by. Reaching three hours, it became clear to you that Fred wasn’t going to show up, tears filled your eyes and made your vision glassy, overflowing and running down your cold cheeks.

Storming back to the castle you stared at the ground, refusing to look up at anyone or anything, you sobbed and clutched onto the Zonko's bag so hard your hand started to cramp and your knuckles went white.

‘How could I be so stupid?’ you thought to yourself ‘I got myself dressed up in my best dress for nothing, waited outside looking like a fool while he’s probably laughing himself silly.’

But Fred wasn’t laughing himself silly at all, he didn’t get out of bed unless he needed to brush his teeth or go to the toilet, he refused to speak to George, Lee and Angelina. He curled up under his covers with tears falling down his face, his wand emitting light whilst he watched your footsteps on the Marauders Map, guilt surging through his body like poison when your footsteps stayed still and finally took off after hours of waiting.

Bursting into your dorm room Alyssa’s smile dropped and concern plastered on her face - your mascara and eyeliner streaked down your face from crying, your lips red and puffy like your eyes.

“Y/N! what's wrong? what happened?” she panicked, hurrying over to you.

You threw your shoulder bag on the floor, turning around you bumped into Alyssa and pushed the Zonko’s bag into her chest.

“He never showed up!” you wailed, storming into the bathroom and slamming the door behind you.

You dragged the warm wet rag over your face, wiping off your make up with so much force your skin got irritated and red, you stared at yourself in the mirror, hating your reflection, hating the dress you were so excited to put on hours before.

Alyssa knocked on the door, she didn’t want to pry and press you for answers, instead, she handed you your clean pyjamas and took your dress to put away, she walked into the bathroom when you opened the door, pulling you into a comforting hug whilst you sobbed in her arms.

Like Fred, you refused to leave your bed all weekend, you refused to speak about what happened. Perhaps you waited in the wrong place, perhaps he meant another week, you tried to convince yourself that this was your fault, that you got things wrong - but deep down you knew this wasn’t your doing, but Fred’s.

Sunday evening rolled around and Alyssa walked back into the dorm with a bag full of food, she sat on the side of your bed and opened up the bag full of your favourite puddings and drinks.

“The house-elves encouraged me to take as much as I could fit in this bag” she laughed lightly “please eat something sweetheart, it doesn’t have to be much”

You nodded and sat up in your bed, giving in you drank your pumpkin juice and had a few slices of Apple Pie.

Monday morning you were up early and out of bed, trying to be as fresh as a daisy as you could - everything was going well until you had double potions with Fred. You planned to ignore him, play it as if you didn’t care and that the loss was his, but your thoughts and needs for answers clawed at you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Have a good weekend, then?” you asked Fred bravely, watching your cauldron simmer.

“No comment” he replied, refusing to look at you, trimming his ingredients.

“Why did you stand me up?” you asked again, gaining more courage “think it would be funny?”

“No comment” Fred answered again, adding the ingredients to his cauldron, causing it to hiss and change from dark green to bright red.

You began to lose your patience but you didn’t give up, opening your mouth and asking Fred once more why he didn’t show up on Saturday made his guilt surge through his heart so painfully he didn’t know how to handle himself except lash out at you.

“What made you think we were serious?” he spat “did you really think I’d go out with you?”

Hearing his brothers outburst, George looked over to you and Fred, he had no idea what was going on but he had to do something - seeing you so hurt and upset made George feel sick.

You weren’t prepared for such a hard blow, you felt as if you had been slapped in the face and punched in the chest, you didn’t reply - you just stared at Fred with your jaw hanging, the tears you were controlling so well broke through and filled your eyes.

Fred’s heart broke even more at your reaction, he had broken the person he loved more than anything in the world and it would be too late now to make things right, to have you give him a chance to explain - but at least now he had given George a chance to play hero and pick up those broken pieces of your own heart to fix them the best he could.

You quickly took a sample of your potion and handed it to Snape, storming back to your desk, you picked up your bag and hurried out of the dungeons, breaking out into a sob - your wails so loud the class could still hear you.

George left his cauldron to overflow, running after you and calling out your name down the halls before he finally caught up to you. He pulled you into a comforting hug and you cried into his chest, gripping onto his warm woolly jumper.

“I wish it was you George” you cried “I really do, if it was I wouldn’t be in this bloody awful situation”

It dawned on George that this definitely had something to do with Fred and when he told him about his feeling for you. Sitting back in the same chairs in front of the fire in the empty common room before bed, George turned to Fred and searched his dull eyes.

“Do you like Y/N?” George asked quietly.

Fred shook his head “no”

George sighed and continued to stare at his brother “look at me, Freddie”

George knew that his brother couldn’t lie to his face and he knew by doing this he would get the right answers he needed.

“Are you in love with her?”

Fred paused and tried to lie but he couldn’t do it - he looked towards the dancing flames.

George finally understood and stood up “that’s what I thought” he stood behind his chair, wanting to know one more thing before he went off to bed “what happened between you and Y/N, you being grumpy all weekend and her being upset - does that have anything to do with what I told you last week?”

Fred put his head in his hands and nodded, George shook his head and sighed “that's what I thought, you should’ve bloody told me.”

George left the common room and went upstairs to bed, leaving his brother alone in his thoughts. Climbing in his bed, George knew exactly what to do in the morning.

George looked for you everywhere, you weren’t in the great hall for breakfast and you didn’t show up to any of your classes either, passing Alyssa he pulled her aside, asking where you were.

“the second floor, girls bathroom” she replied “and here” she rooted in her bag, pulling out the Zonko’s bag “give this to your brother when you see him, she got it him before he stood her up.”

George took the bag and thanked Alyssa, hurrying as fast as he could to reach you.

Sitting on the floor of the dingy toilets, you continued to sob in your hands, pressing them against your eyes that you could see confetti in your vision. Hearing footsteps coming closer to you, you removed your hands away from your face and opened your eyes, looking up at George standing over you.

George crouched beside you and began to rub your back, comforting you; he sighed deeply and knew it was time to tell you everything, the truth.

“I’ve got feelings for you, Y/N” he confessed softly.

This only made you feel worse, you lost Fred - someone you actually want to be with, and his brother who you care for is in love with you, you would rather sit your O.W.Ls all over again with your N.E.W.T.s at the same time than go through this.

You turned to face George, a look of shock and horror all over your face “George! You know this isn't the right time to tell me and if Fred-” you paused for a moment, feeling sick to your stomach.

“Does Fred know?” you asked quietly, looking at George.

George nodded “I told him on Friday after that Fred just went into a foul mood and you’ve been upset. He’s in love with you, Y/N, and I know you love him too.”

You stared at George, your mouth wide open, unable to process what you heard.

“He put my own happiness before his” George laughed and shook his head, pulling you into a tight hug, he smirks at you “He’s in his dorm room, go to your man” he encouraged you, handing you the Zonko’s Bag.

Feeling those same butterflies form and take flight inside of you once more, you hurried to Fred’s room, the biggest smile plastered on your face, which caught everyone’s attention, causing them to feel happy and talk amongst one another about you and Fred finally being on the same page.

Storming into Fred’s room, he walked out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel loosely covering his lower half at the hips, stopping in your tracks you stared at him, taking in the beauty of his body; the water droplets across his abs and the steam rising off his chest and shoulders, his damp hair and the sun beaming through the window highlighting your favourite parts of him.

Fred went into shock and gripped onto his towel harder, you flash him a small, nervous smile and place the Zonko’s bag on his bedside table.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” he asked shyly as you walked over to him.

Placing your hands gently against Fred’s cheeks, you leaned in slowly and pressed your lips against his. Kissing back, Fred deepened the kiss and dragged his tongue against your lower lip, both of his hands took you by the waist, completely forgetting about his towel, it fell to the floor.

Tags: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl @escapingrealitybyreading @lucymfer @freddiemylovelg

[xmint-conditionx]

tongue tied | myg

pairing: yoongi x reader, f2l

w/c: 3.5k

summary: you've been best friends with yoongi for almost a decade, and you're hopelessly in love with him. he's the most important person in your life, and you don't want to mess that up, so you can never be anything more... right?

written as a response to a request from the old blog -- the requestor was @yoongi--enthusiast; thanks again for your request, i loved doing it!!! "I had an idea... something based off of the song “tongue tied” with yoongi. I feel like it would be super soft with soft smut... I just think it would be nice to read so can you please wright it 🥺👉👈"

tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, outdoor sex, overall a little angsty but super cute too

a/n: i did not know that there was a song called tongue tied by marshmello before i wrote this so... i hope the person who requested this didn’t mean that song because I wrote this drabble over the grouplove song lmaooo but anyway, here goes! thanks luv, enjoy! also reposted from the old blog!!

Yoongi’s laugh is so beautiful. It’s rare, so when you see it, you soak up everything you can about it. The way his eyes crinkle up into crescent moons, the way his lips curl back putting his gummy smile on bright display. You can swear you see his eyes sparkle.

You are in love with him. You are in love with your best friend.

He makes loving him such an easy thing to do; bringing you into his inner world, showing you the sweet and warm center he conceals from everyone else. The way he looks at you, the way he says your name, the way he pouts when he wants a back scratch, all of those little things that make him who he is only deepen your infatuation with him.

You’re with him again this Friday night, making the drive to Bom’s house. It’s been a long week for the both of you; he’s been wrapped up in producing a track and you’ve been nose deep in college textbooks. His track is completed, and your exams are over. It’s safe to say that you both could use a good break.

It’s the end of the spring semester and the weather is going to be gorgeous tonight. The racing summer breeze coming through the open car windows is exhilarating. The sun is setting, and the warm evening light on Yoongi’s dewy skin makes him appear absolutely radiant as he navigates the highway.

You’re just listening to fun little summer jams as you speed off toward the city’s suburbs. Ones with funky little basslines that are easy to groove and sing along to. Ones that make you shout and laugh into the rushing wind. Ones that make you drink in the moment you’re having with Yoongi; ones that make you soak up all of his joy.

And when he steals a sly look your way, one hand still on the top of the steering wheel, you can swear your heart stops.

You’ve loved him as long as you can remember really knowing him. Since you were both 12, bonding over games of tag and basketball and the spilling of secrets to each other. You’d sit beneath the big tree in his backyard and share the snacks you’d bought at the corner store. He’d always let you have the last chocolate.

The only secret you’ve ever kept from Yoongi is the matter of your infatuation, and you are pretty resolute in keeping it that way.

He is the single most important person in your life. He had been there with you through it all; when your parents split up at 13, when your dad got you your first car at 15, when your long time boyfriend cheated on you at 16, when your dream college denied you at 17, when you got a full ride scholarship to a smaller university outside of the city right after that, when you were drugged at a house party at 20, when you were diagnosed with depression at 21, and when you were accepted into your masters program at 22.

You needed him, and because of that, you could never tell him.

You pull into the gates that surround Bom’s neighborhood. Her parents are pretty wealthy, so they live on a golf course. As you pull up into the driveway, you see some other students milling about, catching Frisbee. There’s Eunha, Ireum, Ji-Ah, and Miyeun that you recognize from some of your classes, but there are a few more that you’ve never met.

After a few rounds of drinks and a few lost games of flip cup, you all head outside to the back patio with all of your schoolwork from the year. Bom turns on the bluetooth speaker and sets it on the railing. You take in the night air and gaze up at the sky, wishing there was a shooting star to wish upon.

“Alright, everyone,” Bom begins, “essays and lab reports first, then tests, then miscellaneous homework.” Yoongi helps you dig through your stack to fish out the cursed papers. You all toss the stapled packages into the fire pit, one by one, each hitting with a soft thud. Once everyone has thrown their woes into the pit, Bom tops it with actual firewood and unceremoniously sets the whole lot of it on fire. You gaze into the center of the flame, watching your entire year catch fire. All the hours you spent doing that research project, all the disappointment when your group members wouldn’t follow through. Gone, like it never existed.

Yoongi’s holding your hand in his, and he’s busy drawing little circles with his thumb on your palm. Your head rests soundly on his shoulder, and you sigh into him, comfortable in where you are. The whole group piles in more papers, as you lament about the shitty professors and the shitty group projects and the shitty caf’ food and the shitty grades. Yoongi turns into you and nuzzles gently on your forehead. You feel his soft lips graze your temple, breath warm on your skin, tingles rising through your body, and you’re right where you want to be. Under the moon’s gaze with the person you love.

Before long, the breeze sends a chill through you that even the fire won’t remedy. Yoongi feels your shiver and unceremoniously removes his hoodie and puts it on over you, pulling up the hood and kissing your forehead. You always love when you wear his jackets; they surround you in his warmth, his smell. A smile plays across your lips until you notice Yoongi’s goosebumps.

“Hey,” you pout, “I don't wanna wear this if you’re gonna be cold.”

“I don’t wanna wear it if you’re gonna be cold,” he snaps back, smiling.

“Here,” you say, standing up from your deck chair. You take the step to get you to Yoongi’s chair, and sit in his lap. “This way we can both be warm, yeah?”

It takes him a second, but he wraps his arms firmly around you again, mumbling a “yeah, that’s fine” when you glance at him over your shoulder.

Your attention is called back to the group with Bom asks if you’re going to the Summer Romance Festival by the river next weekend. She’s been pushing you to get yourself out there more. The last time you were in a real relationship was high school, after all.

“I’d love to go; I hear they have the most beautiful fireworks display,” you start, “but I don’t think I will this year.”

“Well,” Bom says, “Why not?!”

“Because I don’t have a date, Bom!” you say, covering your face in the sweater paws you’ve made from Yoongi’s hoodie. “I don’t think I could find one in enough time.”

“Ya, just get Yoongi to go with you! You already do everything together anyway,” Eunha quips.

You notice that the steady rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest has stopped.

“Hey, you know we’re just friends, right Yoongi?” you look to him for backup.

The man nods, looking down and to the left.

“Okay,” Ireum speaks up, “In that case, do you want to go with me?”

“Wait, what?” you say.

“Do you want to go to the Summer Romance Festival with me? As a date?”

Yoongi tenses beneath you.

“Oh, I don’t know…” you breathe, “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. We can even get dinner before we go. Not too much, though. I’ll want to get us a treat from one of the dessert stalls.” Ireum says with a soft smile.

“Yeah,” you say, smiling back at him, “Okay. We’ll go together.”

Yoongi stirs beneath you. “Hey, can you get off of me?”

“What, why?” you pout.

“I said get off.”

“Yoongi, wh--”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish before he abruptly stands up, forcing you to catch yourself. When you look back at him, he’s walking toward the French doors that lead back into the house.

“Ya! What was that about?”

He keeps walking. You storm after him and slam the door, trapping you both inside.

“Yoongi, I’m talking to you! What’s your fucking problem?”

He whirs around.

“Oh, I have a problem?”

“Well, it sure seems like it.” you spit back, hands on your hips.

“Why don’t you go talk about it with your date, huh?” he says, gesturing out the window to Ireum. “Don’t you have some details to work out? He gonna pick you up? You gonna let him hold your hand? On your nice little extra special romantic date? I guess I’ll just fuck right off and leave you two alone, yeah? That’s what you want, cause we’re just friends and all.”

“Yoongi, we… are friends! You’re my best friend!”

“Did you ever for a second think that I could want more?”

“What?!”

“I fucking love you, Y/N! Isn’t it obvious?! I’ve loved you since the 7th grade. You remember when we played spin the bottle at Ha-joon’s house? Do you remember when you kissed me?”

“Yoongi…”

“No, let me finish. Do you remember the frat party we crashed junior year? Remember when we got up onto the roof and made out until we fell asleep? And then you weren't there when I woke up so I walked back to my dorm and then we just pretended it never happened? What the fuck was that, Y/N?!”

You reach for his arm, but he backs up, flinching away from you.

“I am so in love with you it hurts!”

“Yoongi.”

“But I guess if that guy can make you happy, then whatever,” he sighs.

“Yoongi.”

“Go on your little date and have fun and I’ll just go write some more goddamn songs about you--”

“Yoongi!”

He stills, pain flashing through his eyes.

“Yoongi,” you say quietly, easing toward him, “I had no idea. I left the roof to go inside and get you some water. When I came back, you were gone. You had been drinking a lot that night… and I felt really bad because… I thought I had taken advantage of you… Ever since I first kissed you at Ha-joon’s house, I wanted to do it again. And again. And, you looked so good that night and up on the roof when you were laughing about the quarterback I just… I couldn't hold myself back anymore. I thought surely you didn’t want to actually be kissing me.”

“Why the fuck would I have kissed you back, then?”

“You were drunk, and I--” you’re cut off when he grabs your wrist.“I have wanted to kiss you every time I’ve seen you since you first kissed me,” he says, glancing down at your lips. ”I want to kiss you right now.”

You take no time in closing the distance between the two of you, your lips crashing desperately. You’ve tasted his kiss before, but this time feels different. His hands are winding through your hair, pulling you deeper into his kiss. You moan against his mouth, and he responds with his tongue teasing your lips, asking for entry. You grant it, and he explores. One of his hands holds your jaw, the other still intertwined with your hair. His tongue runs along your bottom lip before he sucks it in, drawing out a small whimper from you. Taking his hand from your jaw, he runs it down your neck and décolleté and then down over your stomach and latches it on your hip, sinking his fingers into your skin. He gives your hair a small tug, just enough to break the kiss and expose your neck. He breaks off and trails kisses up your jawline and then onto your neck, speaking in between kisses.

“You have… no idea how… much I’ve… wanted to tell… you everything,” he breathes onto your neck, and you feel a heat pooling in your panties.

“Please, Yoongi…” you say as you begin to run one hand under his shirt. He stops kissing and looks up at you with the softest expression.

“What is it?” he asks as he grabs both of your hands in his, bringing one of them up to his mouth to sprinkle kisses along your fingers.

“You…” you begin and sigh, “you have no idea how much I want you.”

He stills.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, I’m sorry, I just…” he trails off, eyes getting lost in the way his jacket is draped on your figure.

Him eyeing you up doesn’t make it any better.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you say, eyes pleading up at him. “I’m tired of waiting.”

After a beat, he sighs.

“Neither of us are waiting another minute,” he says, landing a quick peck on your lips and going across the room to the couch, grabbing the throw blanket that rests on the arm.

“Come on, I have an idea,” he says, grabbing your arm and leading you out of the front door, across the street, through someone’s back yard until you reach the top of a hill on the side of a fairway. You watch as he scans the area, holding the blanket tight. His gaze lingers on two hills near the green of whatever hole this is, where there are a few more trees and hills to block you from the sightline of those second story windows. He looks at you, eyes asking the question. You smile and nod, and that’s all he needs.

He tugs your hand and you both go running down the fairway, laughing along the way. Once you reach your spot, he quickly puts down the blanket and lays on it. You’re still standing at his feet, hands fiddling with the ends of the jacket sleeves.

He smiles up at you and holds his arms up in your direction and says, “come here, beautiful,” while doing little grabby hands.

You slowly walk up to where he’s laying and sit on top of his hips, feeling how hard he already is. His hand rests on your hip underneath the fabric of his jacket, the other holding the side of your face.

“Let me see you,” he says with a tinge of whine in his voice, and that gives you an idea.

You reach under the still zipped jacket and fiddle around. Yoongi looks up at you befuddled, the corners of his lips turning down slightly as he tries to figure out what’s going on. When your hands emerge, one is holding your strapless bra and the other is holding the halter top you had been wearing. You can’t believe you managed to unzip the back by yourself.

You throw the garments to the side, and watch as understanding hits his face. His eyes glaze over and he licks his lips, clearly shaken up by your little trick.

He carefully dips his fingers below the waistband of your shorts and eases them down. You put your weight on him and give him a few kisses as he continues to move them down your legs. Once they too have been tossed to the side, you sit back up, lips red and swollen from the kiss.

He gently reaches up to the zipper of the jacket and begins to slowly pull it down, letting the cool night air in. You feel your nipples harden at the exposure to both the night air and Yoongi’s hungry eyes. He swallows and licks his lips as he runs his eyes over every new inch of you that is revealed. Memorizing your form, your perked nipples, the way your chest rises with each anxious breath.

He reaches back up to the collar and eases one shoulder of fabric off. You move to take the rest off despite the cold, but he stills your hand with his.

“Keep it on, please. I love seeing you wear my clothes,” Yoongi says, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing them against his knuckles as you slowly grind your still covered core on his length. He groans in frustration, his pants getting tighter. You let go of his hand and run your fingers up beneath his white cotton v-neck, his ab muscles flinching under your touch. You help him remove his shirt, taking in the way his pale skin shines under the moonlight.

Seeing you look at him makes his cock twitch in his pants, and you think it’s time to provide him some relief.

You scoot back and start to undo his belt, getting low and staring up at him through your lashes. His breath hitches when you make eye contact with him, and then it starts to pick up as you undo the button and zipper. You shimmy down the denim, but leave his black boxer-briefs where they are.

You come back up to the waistband after releasing his jeans, and you take the elastic in between your teeth. You tug them down with your teeth while your hands pull them on the sides. His erection springs free, and he sucks in a fast breath when his cock meets the cool air. You take the opportunity to let your warm breath ghost over his throbbing cock, coaxing a deep groan from Yoongi. He puts his hand to your cheek, and you look up to meet his gaze.

“I don’t think I can last if you put me in your mouth, baby girl. We can do head next time,” Yoongi says, and your heart soars at the pet name. You ease back up so that you’re straddling him once more, and reflexively start to grind on him again.

“Please let me take care of you. Look how wet you are,” he says, running his fingers over your clothed slit, dipping one finger in to collect a bit of slick. He tastes his finger and says. “Yeah, we’re definitely going to need to do head next time.”

You blush at the thought of him buried between your thighs, vulgarly slurping up everything you have to give him. You clench just thinking about it, and Yoongi notices. He pulls your panties to the side, takes the head of his cock and presses it to your clit, teasing your entrance. His precum mixes with your wetness, and you can’t resist him any more. You’ve resisted him for years, and you’re done.

You slowly ease yourself down on his cock, only making it halfway down before you have to wait for you to adjust. You both look at each other; Yoongi’s jaw is set and his eyebrows are furrowed together. Your mouth drops open as you raise and lower yourself again, feeling the delicious stretch that accompanies it. You bottom out and begin setting a slow and gentle pace.

Your body is rolling steadily, moonlight creating beautiful shadows on your body as you take him in over and over. As many times as you’ve dreamed of this, you still didn’t fathom it being this good or it feeling this right.

Yoongi is everything you had imagined he would be and then some. The way he is looking up at you, the way his soft little moans escape every time you bottom out, the way his eyebrows furrow together at the sight of your dripping heat enveloping him. Perfection.

He takes his hands and trails them up the curve of your waist, stopping just below your breasts. He runs his thumbs over your nipples, making you shudder and arch your back, pushing your chest into his hands. He palms them, kneading little circles around your areolas.

You lean forward, putting your weight on him again, and he meets you eagerly with another kiss. He wraps his arms around your back, keeping himself under the jacket, and you pick up the rhythm. Yoongi scratches his nails all the way down your back. Once he gets to your ass, he cups it, squeezing gently. You place your forehead against his, and your eyes meet.

“Y/N,” he whispers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “you look so beautiful on top of me like this. Please let me see this sight for the rest of my life.” You whimper at the praise, and pick up the pace.

“Please,” he continues, small grunts mixing in with his words, “Don’t wake up tomorrow and pretend like this never happened. Please... don’t break my heart,” he pleads.

“Not a chance, Yoon. I can never let you go. You’re everything to me. You’ve always been.”

“Baby, I am so close. Can I--”

“Come with me, Yoongi. Let’s do it together,” you say. Yoongi’s hands are on your hips and he’s thrusting up into you with an unrelenting pace. At this angle, you can feel his head graze against your cervix with each thrust, sending white spots in your vision.

You both reach your end at the same time, breaths mingling as you come down from your highs. You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat gradually slow. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head and sighs into your hair.

“So…” he begins, “do you wanna go to the festival with me?” Yoongi asks.

“Are you gonna pick me up? Let me hold your hand? Have a nice little special romantic date?” you fire back, trying your best to sound like him. You sit up on your arm, letting your hair hang over to one side, and watch the light dance in his eyes as he laughs.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “I might even get us a little snack from one of the desert vendors.”