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buckyownsmylife · 3 years ago

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I’ve Told You Now - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where alpha!Bucky fucks you in front of the other avengers

Warnings: smut, a/b/o dynamics, public sex, oral (f), p in v, possessiveness

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: Thank you to my lovely @wakingbeauty for giving this a read for me! This is strictly the product of mine and @navybrat817‘s belief that public sex should be more common in A/B/O dynamics, so there you have it 😊 Also, I used a prompt the sweet @jbreenr gave me ages ago for a headcanon and I asked to save it for this story since it made such perfect sense! Hope you guys like it! I might write more public sex A/B/O smut in the very near future!

Bucky’s P.O.V.

Everyday was the same. I’d wake up and join the rest of the team for breakfast to find out that despite the fact that someone had saved me a seat, that same someone had thought of a new joke to make at my expense.

If I thought Tony’s nicknames were bad, this was a whole new level. It’s like she wanted to find all the little ways to annoy me, while still remaining mindful of my recovery process and triggers.

I’d never met an omega like that before. Back in my time, omegas were mostly prim and proper, almost shy around alphas, even if they were starting to show a little more skin and entertain the possibility of staying closer to us for longer periods of time.

I wasn’t used to someone who felt so comfortable with my intimidating aura, and the alpha in me definitely couldn’t grow used to seeing so much of her skin all the time. By now, I was sure she was doing it on purpose.

She knew how it affected me, she could smell it - every omega was able to identify when a nearby alpha was aroused. And I knew it turned her on in return. I was also biologically wired to sense that.

It was basically a game of who would break first. And I knew she thought she would win, but my resolve still wasn’t broken.

“Ah… What a lovely day. So full of possibilities… if you’re not a hundred years old,” she quickly added, throwing me a glance that had me rolling my eyes. “What do you say, grandpa? Feel like going out for a run?”

Who knows what I would have answered if she hadn’t decided to pull her hair up right at the second Wanda opened the window to look out into the field? The smile that had been on my face quickly dropped when I was hit with a heavy wave of her scent and my knees buckled as I tried to hold myself back from just jumping on top of her.

Unfortunately, because awareness was not something she seemed capable of having, she did not realize my struggle. “What’s wrong, old man? Can’t even keep up anymore?” The growl that escaped my chest at her joke was all the warning she needed to finally understand what was going on.

“I’ll show you what I can keep up.” I was on her in a second, my consciousness of our surroundings reduced to absolutely nothing. It was only her and me, and the way our lips moved as I guided her back to the couch, until we both fell on top of it.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” I asked as I tore her shirt with a simple flick of my wrist. “Is this how you wanted it to happen? For me to lose all control and just take you right here?” All that left her was a garbled sound, her hands clawing at my back as I easily got rid of her jeans until they were nothing but scraps on the floor and then exposed her pussy to the tower’s living room.

“Fuck yes,” I growled, immediately leaning down to get a taste of her. Sweet and wet and mine, all mine. I had no idea where that possessive instinct had come from, but I would be crazy to ignore it - especially since it felt like I’d kill and die for her at that very second.

Her hips jerked up, instinctively searching for my tongue, but a breeze of clarity seemed to brush over her and make her sit up on her elbows, looking down at me. I knew what was running through her mind before she said it, and I wasn’t having any of it.

“You better lay back down and let me savor my meal,” I warned, knowing the rest of the team had gathered around to watch the show. I didn’t have to take my eyes off her debauched state to know it, but her gaze was on them, even if the rest of her body was still spread open for anyone to see, uncaring of the fact that we were being watched.

“You poked the beast, now you’ll entertain it,” Steve warned, shaking his head as if to scold us, but when I met his eyes, I could see the glint of desire in them. He wanted to be in my position, he wanted to have his own tongue shoved deep inside my girl’s pussy, and it only made me eat her more hungrily.

“Eyes on me, ‘mega,” I called out to her once I saw her eyes linger on Steve. “Let them watch, that’ll keep them away from you.” She groaned at the possessiveness in my words, but it was the sounds of someone who was relishing in it. And I was relishing in her juices.

“Fuck!” She cursed when I buried my tongue as far as it could go in her, something deep inside of me desperate to be drowning in her scent. “Should have gotten you mad before.”

The thought was amusing to me. Did she really think this was only the result of pent-up anger, and not months of desire and lust that had finally spilled from my weakened resolve?

“Well…” I started, pushing two fingers inside of her to scissor her open for me, although my scent had already made her body as prepared for an Alpha an Omega could get.

I was a bit larger than usual Alphas, though - courtesy of the serum - so I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t go through any pain whatsoever. “You keep me mad all the fucking time, kitten.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“With desire or anger, it doesn’t really care,” he continued, like it was any ordinary day and we were chatting in the living room, our usual teasing banter taking over the conversation, instead of him eating me out on the couch in front of all of our teammates while I was spread out for their eyes to take in.

“You’re always a tease to me, in one way or another.” His huge hands massaged the inside of my thighs as he finally lowered himself to suck on my nub again, making me instinctively buck my hips up in search of his tongue.

“Stay…” he ordered in his Alpha tone, and the whine that broke free from my chest was more animal than human now. The way he used his mouth was nothing short of sinful, licking me from ass to clit with an eagerness I had never expected the former Winter Soldier to have.

But I guess today I was discovering all of my fantasies about Bucky had been a bit misplaced. For one, I never thought he’d be the type of Alpha to take me in such a public environment.

In every dirty dream I’d had, Bucky was far too possessive to allow anyone to explore what was his - even if it was only visually - but what I’d come to learn was that while he was definitely dominating, there was a hint of exhibitionism in his craving.

He liked to have people see him break me into a million pieces only to glue me back together with a lick of his tongue. He liked that they were seeing his talent - and I had to admit, by what I saw in his friend’s stare, that they were also admiring me too.

And he got off on that. I didn’t expect it would make me get off too.

“Delicious,” he hummed when he finally pulled away from my cunt, having brought me to my release and licked it off of me. Still, an overwhelming amount of wetness covered the lower part of his face, prompting me to raise myself to my elbows and lick my own juices off of his lips, the omega in me begging to scent him as mine.

“You’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t you?” He chuckled once the surprise faded away, easily manhandling me onto my stomach, the sound of a zipper being opened denouncing that he had undressed.

“Keep fucking me and you’ll find out.” I heard him spitting behind me, a shiver running up my spine as I realized he was playing with himself while looking at me presenting for him.

“Oh, I’ll do much better than that.” That was all the warning I got before I felt the head of his member poking my entrance, slowly but surely sliding in until he had bottomed out.

My whines became intensified when he pulled me up by my hair, his free hand covering my breast to rub my nipple as he whispered, “I’m gonna claim you, sweetheart. You think you’re ready for that? Think you’ll be able to take it?”

I was quickly realizing I had severely underestimated the man inside of me, even if not to the extent he thought I had. I was not ready for that. I don’t think I ever would be, but fuck if I wasn’t gonna take it anyway.

Because it was so much better than I ever imagined it to be.

“No more playing hard-to-get,” Bucky continued, finally starting to move and immediately settling on a punishing pace. “No more teasing me with your short skirts and tempting scent. You’ll be mine now, ‘mega. Forever. How does that sound?”

God, I wanted him to do it. I wanted him to keep exercising this complete control over my body that he had so easily managed to take. His cock was stretching me in ways I’d never been stretched before, his inflated knot slamming against my opening with each thrust.

“Always mocking me… Am I too old for you now?” I shivered as he licked a stripe up my neck. I knew he wouldn’t actually bite me in front of everyone - a claiming ritual was a sacred ritual, even the most feral of Alphas respected the intimacy of that. But the way he was taunting me was all too arousing, I couldn’t deny it. “Tell me.”

His hand squeezed my hip, looking for an answer. I tried to open my mouth, but nothing came out. His palm slipped further down, finding my clit, and as two fingers rubbed my own juices, around it, I screamed.

“N-No!” Bucky chuckled against my neck, body continuing his onslaught against mine as he nuzzled my scent gland. “Y-you’re not too old for me. Take me, take me please.” His coos were too provoking, making me cry out loud at the mocking sound.

“Aw, kitten…” His warm mouth breathed the next words against my ear, “I already did.” He turned my face towards his with his fingers tangled in my hair, engulfing my mouth with his.

“Alright.” A familiar voice spoke from not too far, startling me for a second as I once again was reminded that we were still very much surrounded by our team. “You two might just be the sexiest mates I’ve ever seen fuck.”

A growl escaped Bucky’s chest at hearing someone refer to us as mates for the first time, and I panted in need, desperate to cum, desperate for him. “Seen a lot of mates fuck, Romanoff?” He nibbled at my ear, hands roaming over my body as if to make it very clear to every person watching that they could look all they wanted, I was still his.

“You have no idea.” Looking over a bit to the side from where she was seated, there rested Sam’s almost limp body, a hand curled over his boner as his eyes never wavered from the place I was connected to the man behind me.

“Well, I know what I’m gonna think about tonight.” Something between a laugh and a moan escaped me, making Bucky growl again, hands pushing me back down onto the couch as his hips picked up the pace with which they’d ruin me.

To say I was soaked was the understatement of the century. I could feel it, running down my thighs, drenching the couch underneath me. I don’t know how we’d be able to use it again, but that was the least of my concerns in the moment.

“I am begging you to let me lick her pussy after you guys are done,” came Tony’s voice, and I knew Bucky would growl in his direction just from the way his fingers pressed tightly on the flesh of my hips. “Not that type of Alpha, sorry, I got it.”

I heard his footsteps retreating quickly, probably scared of what Bucky would do to him once we were done, but in the Alpha’s defense, Tony seemed to disappear from his mind the second he left the room, all of his senses directed to me and his goal of making me cum around his cock.

“C’mon, kitten,” he whispered, fingers easily locating my clit to play with me as he pulled me up to rest against his chest one more. “Come for me, milk me dry.” That was all I needed to give him what he wanted, and although I was anticipating to moan loudly as I creamed his knot, his mouth covered mine to swallow all of my sounds in a deep kiss, hands protectively covering me while pawing at my breasts at the same time.

“Steve,” Bucky called after he managed to catch his breath, having fallen on top of me on the couch once his knot popped open. “I won’t be able to work out with you today.”

I looked up as best as I could to find Steve already staring at us, although red from head to toe. “That’s understandable,” he spoke in a thick, rough voice that I barely recognized as his. “You seem to have worked out enough already.”

Bucky stopped running his nose against my cheek at his friend’s attempt at teasing, a slow smirk taking over his face as he joined me and stared at his friend. “Oh, I’m not nearly done,” he warned. “You’re more than welcome to join us for some cardio, if you want to.”

The soft smile Steve sent our way told us everything we needed to know about his plans for the evening.

#my fics #alpha au #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes reader inserts #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot

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mysticalrambling · 3 years ago

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Ending It All Part 2 (C.E)

A/N: Here you go guys. Much awaited part 2 is here. I am so in love with this particular fan fiction and hope you guys like it. If you want me to write any blurbs related to this series, do let me know.I am open to requests.

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Part 1

Chris Evans Fan fiction (Fan fiction Masterlist)

Summary: Chris regrets divorcing you and he tries to mend the relationship. However, you have already moved on with Tom Hiddleston and are quite happy. He has to just stand back while you and your children become closer to Tom and it is all his fault.

Warnings: Angst all the way.

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“Coming in?” Chris turned his face towards you with a questioning look in his eyes.

“No, I have some work. Just wanted to drop the kids off myself.” Your ex husband’s house was on your way so you just saved him a trip.

“Not even for coffee, darling?”

“Sorry but I will have to say no.” You still got flustered when he called you with nicknames. You had once decided to tell him to stop calling you with all these terms of endearment but you couldn’t build up the courage to do it.

It has been over a year since your divorce and the moment you think you are over him, he is right there to bring those feelings back. You were a mess when he moved out and you had to see him on the weekends for the kids. It looked like you were drowning and you couldn’t come up for fresh air. It was exhausting but after several months, it didn’t hurt that much. It didn’t feel like your heart was tearing into shreds. You felt numb but that was better than feeling like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

“That’s fine. See you Sunday?”

These were the only few sentences that were spoken between the two of you since the divorce. This was your new normal and you were starting to adjust to it. “Yeah, bye.”

“Who wants pancakes?” Sighing, he turned around and asked in a fake, cheerful voice. He didn’t get to be disappointed. These were the the seeds that he sow and he had to reap the results.

“I do.” A collective chorus came from the living room as they had already started to play with Dodger. Dodger was adopted from a shelter home about two weeks into the divorce. Loneliness was a destructive force and Chris hadn’t come to that realization until he was sitting in his home at eight, all alone. No laughter, no mess, no companionship. He went out that day and got a new dog. The apartment was eating him alive because it was a reminder of his ‘new life’. More like his ruined life.

“Daddy, you goin’ to be there for my match?” Jace looked up at his father and hoped that he wasn’t going to say no. There have been too many occasions this past year where he was not there for his children like Easter or Mia’s first day of school. He was either too busy with his career or he couldn’t bear to be with his family knowing that he wouldn’t be going home with them. He wasn’t strong enough to handle that truth.

“I’ll be there but I have work afterwards so I can only be there for half time.” The apologetic tone was all too familiar to the kids now so they just stayed quiet.

Chris noticed their disappointed look and continued, “When I get back, we’ll go to Disneyland for the whole weekend.”

“Mommy and Tommy will be going as well?”

Stopping in between making the pancakes, he asked with a venom laced tone, “Tommy who, Jace?”

“Mommy’s new friend. We like him.” Your son continued petting the dog without realizing the damage he is doing to his father. “New friend” was always a code for boyfriend and Chris didn’t know what to do with that information.

He knew that you had gone on a few dates with Tom Hiddleston because of the paparazzi. But he didn’t know that you both were serious. Your kids knew about him so it was pretty damn serious.

“He won’t be going with us.” Speaking with finality, he resumed cooking. You were his and that was not going to change. He knew he was being unfair but when it came to you, he lost all rationality.

“But he is our new dad.” Mia whined from her place and Chris just looked at her with a wounded look. His babygirl was putting someone else in his place.

His voice boomed throughout the house and both the kids looked at him with tears in their widened eyes, “I’m your only dad. Don’t you ever say that.”

“‘m sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to make you mad.” Her chin wobbled and Chris was quick to realize his mistake. It was not your children’s fault. It was not your fault. It was his fault.

“Not your fault, baby. But you only have one daddy and that’s me.” Kissing her forehead, he wiped the single tear that managed to escape her blue eyes.

“’kay.” The kids got distracted again but Chris did not forget. He was still seething from the inside because Tom may have taken you away from him but he damn well couldn’t take his children.

They all get ice cream afterwards and the kids fall asleep in their rooms that Chris built from scratch. It was a lengthy process because he just kept remembering the times when he decorated their nursery with you. Such a beautiful memory and he was ruining it. The guilt ate him up inside when he realized that he may not get to ever decorate a nursery for your children again. He may not get to expand his family with you again. Again, it was his fault.

“Sorry, ‘m late. Work was hectic today.” Everything was so busy today because your boss signed up a new contract and he has been impossible to work with. You just wanted to go home and sleep for the whole week.

“It’s okay. They’re sleepin’ upstairs. Listen, we need to talk.” He was too consumed by anger and hurt to notice that you were too exhausted for everything.

“Go on.” You urged him, figuring that he might say that he won’t be able to make it to your son’s match. This was what most of your conversations were based on; him saying that he is too busy to be present at occasions related to your children.

“Why are my children referring to your boyfriend as dad?” He nothing but spat that sentence.

“I- I didn’t know about any of this. I’ll talk to them.” Stuttering, you tried to mediate the situation but nothing seemed to get through to him at the moment.

“No need. I already did that but for next time, keep your boyfriends away from my children.”

“Our children and I don’t let anyone near my children. We are serious.” You were offended by his crude tone and you weren’t just going to let him walk all over you.

“You can’t be serious with him. As a matter of fact, you can’t be serious with anyone.” Your ex husband declared it like it was a law. He didn’t know how to react to what you said. All the pain was converted into anger because that was his current form of expression.

“Are you serious?” This was all too much for you to handle. How could he say that?

“Yes. You only belong with me. I regret it so much (Y/N).” Chris’s expressions told you where he was going.

“Oh, stop. You can’t just do that. Can’t come bargin’ in my life and mess it all up again. I am happy.”

Chris reached out his hand but you took a step back. He was not allowed to touch you anymore. “I was mistaken. My career is not above you, darlin’. Never was.”

“You made me feel worthless. You made me feel as if I was the reason our marriage ended. Won’t allow myself to get sucked back into this relationship.”

“I know I broke our family. I tore us apart and didn’t even apologize for it properly. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” There was a stream of tears running down his face and you wanted to wipe them away but you resisted.

There were still times when you wished that you were still happily married to Chris. That you still had your perfect, little family. The divorce made you feel worthless and lonely. There were times when you couldn’t even look at your children because they were the exact replica of your ex husband. You once adored the fact that they were his carbon copy. However, now you couldn’t help but get angry. How could he leave little pieces of himself behind and think that you could move on with your life.

It was all because you were with another man. He never said all these things when you were alone and you suffered from depression. There were days when you couldn’t get out of bed to get your kids ready for school. You knew that Jace had informed him because he was really worried about you and he always shared his troubling thoughts with Chris. But he didn’t do anything about it. He stayed quiet and you had to pull all the pieces back together yourself. It was all tape and glue. Your ex husband didn’t get to come back and dismantle your progress. You wouldn’t let him.

“You can’t do this. Can’t come back. I am with Tom now so stop trying to fix things that you already broke.” Your face was red with anger and all the energy was drained out of your body.

“Please, just give me a chance.”

“No!” You couldn’t choose Chris again. You had to choose yourself. You chose to think about your needs and your feelings for the first time in seven years. That’s why you agreed to go on a date with Tom. He surpassed your expectations the first time and you knew that he could be your partner. No one could compare to Chris but Tom made his own place in your heart and you were glad about it. You continued on, “Tom is good for me so please don’t ruin my happiness again.”

Tom was great. He was good with the kids and he was slowly becoming an integral part of your life. You still missed Chris because that man was the love of your life for seven years and those feelings can’t just disappear with a single piece of paper. You were glad to have Tom in your life and you knew that as time would pass, you will love him with your whole heart. However, a small part of you would never forget Chris and would always wonder about the what ifs. What if you were still together? What if you had more children? What it you got to grow old together? Broken dreams are what hurts the most.

“I don’t want to be a cause of that. Not again. But I want to make things right.” He unintentionally came closer to you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Sorry I wasn’t there for our kids. Sorry that I broke you, baby.”

“A sorry doesn’t fix anything.” His chest was hallowing from inside out but he didn’t want to back down. Not now. Not ever.

“Just answer one question for me. Are you truly happy?” A tremble was prominent in his voice but you tried to ignore it.

“I-I am. For a long time, I wasn’t but I am now.” You spoke with such conviction that he knew you were over him.

You would always love Chris but now it was time for you to move on with your life. It was time to leave the past and delve into the future. Chris would always own a piece of your heart but you are going to allow Tom to have an opportunity as well. You will open your heart again to love. You were sure now.

“Okay. I will get the kids for you.” He backed off like he promised he would. You knew at that moment that it was all over.

Watching you drive away with his kids was heart breaking for him and he just watched helplessly. Chris still wanted to cry, beg and apologize. He wanted you to take him back but it was all his fault. He ruined you once, he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t interrupt your new life. It doesn’t all revolve around him but he was okay to remain on the sidelines while you enjoy your life. He will be there for you if you needed him.

You are happy and that should be enough for him but he wants to be selfish again. He wants to fight for you but it’s all too late. You were with someone else. He lost his chance.

Wednesday rolled in pretty quickly and Chris dreaded going to the match. You were going to be there with your new boyfriend but he didn’t want to miss his son’s game. He could only be there till half time already so it wouldn’t be that awkward.

“I just wanted to be here for Jace. Won’t cause any problems.” Chris took a seat beside Mia when he saw you shifting uncomfortably. The seat that should have belonged to him was currently being occupied by your boyfriend but Chris just bottled up all his feelings. It was not right to still think of you as his wife.

“It’s okay. Let’s just forget about everything.” You wanted to move on and did not want anything to hold you back.

“Okay. Mia, you want Kit Kat?” Offering her a large chocolate bar, he started talking with his daughter so that he could distract himself from you and Tom.

“What is happening, love?” Tom questioned when he saw that his former co-star did not even glance at him properly.

Chris and Tom were not the best of buds but they were still good acquaintances. He thought that dating you wouldn’t be a problem because Scarlett had informed him that Chris was the one who asked for divorce. However, this situation made him realize that Chris was jealous. He still had feelings for you and Tom didn’t know how to react to that.

“Nothing of importance. Let’s just focus on my baby boy.” Saying that, you cheered for Jace as he made his first goal. He was an exceptional player like his father and you knew that he would pursue football as his career. Jace was really passionate about football. If Chris didn’t become an actor then he would have definitely tried out for football.

There were times when he used to take you to the park so you would play with him. It was your thing. Maybe he had replaced you with someone by now as well but what you didn’t know was that Chris had stopped playing football altogether. Like many things in his life, it reminded him of you and it was just too much to bear.

“You are doing great, buddy.”Jace immediately asked Chris to pick him up as you gave him his Captain America water bottle. It was half time and Chris had to leave for shooting. He was getting late but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“Thank you, mommy. Ollie doesn’t listen to me that much so coach is angry at him.” Babbling on, he rested his head on his father’s shoulder.

“Okay, buddy. I have to leave now but I will call you when your game is finished.”

“Won’t be going with us to Chick-fil-A?”

“Uhh-” He cluelessly glanced at you because he didn’t know what his son was talking about.

“I wanted to give him a treat after the match.” Tom butted into the conversation to prove that he was a part of the kid’s lives as well.

Chris could have actually made it to the restaurant because he would be free in an hour tops. However, he decided against it. He had to take a step back for you. Of course, he would be there for his children but Tom should be given a fair chance as well.

“I won’t be able to make it buddy. You enjoy with Mommy and Tom. I’ll take you and Mia to Disneyland this weekend as I promised.”

“Okay, daddy. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” Giving him to you, he turned to leave. It was hard for him to do this but it had to be done. Chris wiped his eyes discreetly as he saw you all laughing together. This was his fault and he would have to bear the consequences.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

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A/N: This story had me in tears from the very start. I cried when I was writing it. Again, I am open to blurbs for this series and other requests. Tell me if you want to be added to my tag list.

Tag list: @peculiarpenman, @kalopsia-flaneur, @justile, @iguessweallcrazyithinktho, @jessyballet, @caanyoonmoon, @coldmuffinpartycloud, @marvelfansworld, @agnesk, @lauracontisstuff, @deepintothenature, @xcaptain-winterx, @nostxlgia18, @sophiaedits , @luckyladycreator2, @mrspeacem1nusone

Like, comment and reblog.

P.S. If you want blurbs and epilogue related to this series, please send in requests. I will need some ideas.

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redpandaramblings · 4 years ago

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A Matter of Admiration Alpha Gang Orca x Omega f!Reader

Hello Hello! Here is my very VERY late submission for the SFW portion of Spudcorner's Valentine Blood and Chocolate Collab. This was meant to be a two page drabble. 13 pages later it's a bit more than that. Regardless, I do hope you enjoy!

Sequel/Epilogue Here

Content Warnings- Omegaverse, SFW, Insecurities, Misunderstandings, Pining, Fluff, Lots of food mentioned, Kugo being very down on himself, very minor mention of blood and stitches needed.

“Really? Again?”

The large alpha seemed to shrink under your judgemental glare.

“I am sorry, Y/N. The fight got intense and it slipped off. Someone must have stepped on it.”

You sighed heavily, your gaze turning to the workbench where the shattered remains of your creation sat. This was your seventh attempt at outfitting Gang Orca with a communicator headset. It was dangerous for him to keep fishing for a handheld during the heat of battle. Unfortunately, his lack of outer ear made keeping a headset on him difficult. Shaking your head, you gave a small smile.

“Not your fault, Sakamata. We knew this was going to be tricky. Though at this rate I’m tempted to just glue a headset on you and call it a day.”

Kugo snorted, his posture relaxing. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I hate to see your hard work go to waste.”

“It’s not a waste if I learn something from it. This one lasted a couple weeks of normal patrol work, so that’s an improvement. We just need to figure out what was different about this fight. So, sit. Talk.”

Kugo shook his head with an amused huff. He admitted he had been slightly dubious when you had first come to his agency. He’d encountered many hero support workers claiming to specialize in mutation quirks that seemed to be looking for lab rats for their creations. However, you always listened to what he said, and made suggestions that would actually make his job easier. You made sure your support items not only were functional, but comfortable at well. If the few years you had worked for him, he was pleased to say you had become good friends.

“I can’t right now, Y/N. I need to get cleaned up, then complete my report before I forget the details. I’ll come back first thing tomorrow.” You frowned, tapping your foot. Kugo fought to keep a neutral expression. You’d never forgive him if you knew how much he enjoyed your expressions when you were annoyed.

“Alright. Fine. First thing tomorrow. But make sure you get some rest tonight, you’ve been working too hard lately!”

Sakamata waved a hand in answer as he walked out the workshop door. He’d try to follow your request, but a hero’s work is never done.

~~~~~

Gang Orca shuffled through the door to his agency with an aura of gloom about him. In the past five days, he had broken five more communicators, gotten into several serious fights, and had allowed a villain to escape. And that was just his work life. Some of his friends had set him up for a speed dating session. He didn’t blame them for trying, but it ended exactly how he knew it would. Most of the omegas who had been present were scared of him, and those that weren’t were clearly only interested in his pro hero paycheck. Kugo trudged toward his office, his thoughts gloomy. A man with a quirk like his would never have a normal courtship. It hurt sometimes. How nice it would be to come home to a sweet smelling omega. What wouldn’t he give to home filled with pups, and laughter and love? He sighed softly as he swung his door open. Such a life was not meant for him, so no point in even dreaming. On autopilot, he hung his coat on the coat rack, and turned to set his briefcase on his desk. However, the desk was already occupied. Kugo tilted his head as he stared at the object resting on his desk. It appeared to be a large bento box, wrapped in a rather feminine handkerchief, patterned with some sort of flowers. Kugo set his briefcase down on a chair before coming closer to investigate. Gingerly, he untied the knot, setting the cloth aside as he looked at the contents curiously.

First and most obviously, was the strawberry shaped sticky note attached to the top. “You looked like you had been having a rough week. I hope this can make it better!” The writing was… painstakingly cute. The “i”s were dotted with little hearts. Each letter having just a little bit of flourish, while still being legible.

Kugo hummed quietly to himself. Clearly this had been left on his desk by mistake. A bit awkward, considering his name was on the door, but there was no other explanation. He drummed his fingers on the desk as he considered his options. He could take a guess at who the bento was for. There were several popular alpha heroes working for him that got their share of gifts from admirers. The soft omegan scent coming from the handkerchief that had wrapped the bento was a solid clue the gift was likely meant for one of them. But really, there was no way to tell for sure who it was supposed to end up with, and he really didn’t want the hard work to go to waste. Yes. Best thing would be to eat the bento, and place the box in the break room with a note inside the box apologizing.

His course of action decided, Kugo opened the bento, quietly sucking a breath as he saw what was inside. There were sausages cut to look like little octopi. A large slab of teriyaki salmon. Rice balls shaped like teddy bear heads, complete with little seaweed faces. He tried to tamp down his delight at seeing over half of the bento was dedicated to tamagoyaki. While he lived up to his stereotype of loving fish, the egg dish was a secret favorite of his; something his mother had made for him whenever he had a bad day when he was growing up. The second layer of the bento had even more. Rice, vegetables, and surprisingly a small but adorable piece of cake. Kugo put the bento back together with a small smile on his face. Perhaps it wasn’t meant for him, but it had been a long time since he had been able to enjoy something like this- cute and homemade, clearly filled with a great deal of care. He couldn’t quite feel guilty as he looked forward to lunch. He could pretend, just this once, that a sweet smelling omega had put so much care into something for him.

~~~~~~

Later that day, when most of the day team had left, Kugo made his way to the common break room. He carefully cleaned out the bento box in the sink, setting it to the side to dry. He folded the handkerchief it had came in, and placed it next to the box before sighing. He was in the process of scribbling a brief apology note when he heard a cough. He glanced up to see y/n leaning against the doorway.

“You okay, chief? Thought your shift ended an hour ago.”

Kugo nodded as he placed his note on top of the handkerchief. “Yes, just had a few things I needed to wrap up. What about you? I know you were supposed to be done several hours ago now.”

You fidgeted, embarrassed, shrugging your shoulders as you glanced away. “Had an idea for how to improve a few items and, well, you know how I get when I have a project. But what have you got there? You never struck me as the homemade lunch type.”

It was Kugo’s turn to look uncomfortable as he shuffled from foot to foot. “It was left on my desk this morning by mistake. I had no way of knowing who it was actually meant for, and I didn’t want it going to waste, so I ate it.”

You frowned as you walked into the room, opening cupboards and starting to retrieve things to make tea. You held a mug up toward Kugo in a silent question, grabbing a second one when he nodded. You were quiet for a few moments, going through the motions. After a while you asked “How are you so sure it wasn’t for you?”

Kugo snorted, leaning back against the counter and gesturing at himself. “Omegas aren’t exactly lined up around the block. I don’t place high on the ‘heroes that look most like villains’ list every year for no reason. Some unfortunate omega got confused about whose office was whose. It’s a shame I couldn’t give it to whoever it was meant for, it was a beautifully crafted bento.” Kugo doesn’t mention the note. Kugo especially doesn’t mention the note had found its way into his desk drawer to save as a memory of how nice it had been to receive the bento, even if it was an accident.

You laughed, passing him a steaming cup of tea, made just how he liked. “Sakamata, don’t talk down about yourself like that. You’re big, strong, and prime alpha material. You’re one of the top heroes! And even more importantly, you’re a gentle kind man that any omega would be lucky to have. I’d bet good money that that bento absolutely was made just for you.”

“A nice thought, but I doubt it. You’ll see. In a few days I bet a bento will make its way to who it was meant for.”

~~~~~~

Kugo stood stock still in the doorway to his office. Sitting on his desk was another cloth wrapped package. Once was a mistake, clearly. But two days in a row? Why on Earth was there another bento on his desk? He approached the desk and slide the bento to him. He untied the scented fabric with care. A cat shaped note greeted him.

“I’m sorry if it wasn’t clear before, Sakamata. I wanted to make this for you because I admire you so much. I’m not always great at saying my feelings, so I hope my cooking says enough.”

This was… for him. The bentos… were for him? He sat in his chair, leaning his head against his hands as he regarded the innocent looking lunch. If it wasn’t a mistake, then what could it be? Probably a fortune hunting omega trying to get in his good graces, if he went off his past experience. Though usually those types of omegas were more likely to offer favors of a different sort. Kugo winced as another thought occurred to him. There was a good chance this omega pitied him. Ugly, intimidating, unmatable. Someone had seen him and decided he needed looking after because clearly he’d never get someone on his own. Yes. That had to be it. He should leave the bento in the break room and end this farce as soon as possible.

His mind made up, Kugo picked up the bundle to do exactly that. The subtle smell of the contents hit his sensitive nose, causing him to salivate. Tempura? Definitely egg. Well, it would be a shame to not even look inside to make sure.

Clearly just as much care had gone into this one as the last one. The rice balls were shaped like little cat heads, to match the note. An assortment of tempura seemed to be the main dish, cute cat shaped food picks stuck in some of them. There were even paw print shaped gummy candies for the dessert. Every inch of the lunch was absolutely adorable. And it was all done for him. There was no way Kugo could let it go to waste. It hurt to know it was a gift given out of pity, but maybe, just for a while, he could pretend there was someone out there who loved him like this. The omega would grow tired of this eventually. Until then, he’d let himself enjoy this.

~~~~~

It was surprising how easily this had become routine. Every day when Kugo walked into his office, there was a new bento waiting for him. And every day he’d unwrap the bento, indulging a brief moment in the cutely patterned handkerchiefs. Every bento was unique and cute. They seemed to show a good understanding of his tastes and preferences. It was a pleasant break on the quiet days and a welcome comfort on the rough days. Each day there was a sweet written note that Kugo gently stored in his desk drawer. It was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

~~~~~~~

Kugo hated attending charity events. It wasn’t the charities, he always supported good causes. It wasn’t the dressing up, or the fancy atmosphere. It was the people. While a few of his friends were around somewhere, there were many many others who didn’t know him well. Others who were intimidated by his appearance. Others who apparently had no idea just how sharp his hearing was.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe Gang Orca is here.”

“I know! Well, I suppose he is a hero. Allegedly, anyway.”

“Did he come with anyone?”

“Of course not. I mean ew. Look at him. Can you imagine cosying up to that at the end of the day?”

“I know! And those teeth! If he tried to bond someone, he’d take their head clean off!”

“As if anyone would want to bond with that.”

“I don’t know. He’s in the top ten pretty often. He has to be loaded, right?”

“Would have to be a lot for me to even consider it.”

“It could be all the money and I still wouldn’t!”

“Oh don’t say that! Poor bastard can’t help he’s unmatable.”

Kugo walked away from the refreshment table as he tried to tune out the unkind comments and mocking laughter. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. He knew full well what he looked like. He had had enough failed courting attempts to know exactly what omegas thought of him. But it still stung. Stung more than usual, actually. The daily bentos with their scented cloths and cute little notes had almost made him forget. The only omegas who were interested either pitied him, or wanted his money. He could never forget that.

~~~~~

What he could forget, apparently, was that the number two pro hero was scheduled to be at his office the morning after the charity gala. Kugo stifled a sigh when he saw the red winged hero waiting outside his agency’s door. Of course he’d have to deal with this on a day when he wasn’t in the best of moods. “Orca! My man, good to see you again!”

Kugo nodded as he held the door open. “Hawks.”

“Didn’t get a chance to talk to you at the party last night. You know how it is. Go to one of those things when you're single, and you get swarmed.”

Kugo gave a non committal grunt. No, he didn’t know. He just wanted this morning to be over with. He perked up slightly as he saw you hurrying down the hallway toward them. Hawks gave a low whistle. “Who's the babe?” Kugo half growled. “That is Miss Y/N. The support item engineer you allegedly came here to see. You will be respectful and refrain from flirting with my staff.”

Keigo held up his hands and laughed. “Hey now big guy, don’t mean any offense. Just saying you’re lucky to get to work with that every day.”

Kugo jerked his head in an abbreviated nod. You slowed down your quick walk as you got closer, not wanting to interrupt the heroes’s conversation. Kugo waved you closer. You smiled at him so brightly as you joined the group. Yes. He was lucky to work with a friend such as you. Kugo’s nerves started to cool a bit as he introduced you and the three of you began to make your way to his office. Hawk’s casual questions were more inquisitive than flirty, and Kugo knew from long experience just how much you enjoyed being able to talk in depth about your work. He was smiling by the time he opened the door to his office, ushering the two or you in. Hawk’s next words hit him like a bucket of cold water to the face.

“Dang! Either you got one hell of a cafeteria service at this agency, or Gang Orca has himself quite an admirer. Delivered right to your desk, pretty bold, man! That’s exactly why I keep my door locked. There’s only so much lunch a man can eat, am I right?”

The bento. He had forgotten about the stupid bento. There it sat, as always. The handkerchief was especially cute today, some sort of pattern with teddy bears hugging and kissing. Any other day, the sight would have calmed him. Any other day he would have sat down and quickly poked through to see what surprises lay inside that day, would have read the note meant just for him with a smile.

But today was different. Others were in his office. The number two hero, handsome and popular. His support engineer, pretty enough to probably have plenty of suitors of her own. And then there was him. Large. Scary. Consistently told he looks like a villain. Has never had a relationship that wasn’t pitying or profiteering. Kugo remembered the whispered remarks from the party. Usually he’d be able to brush off Hawks’s commentary. But today…

Kugo snarled, his scent agitated as he swept his arm across the desk, knocking the bento roughly into the trash. “They are a nuisance that need to cease! I’m so tired of some desperate piting omega shoving their unwanted, unneeded efforts at me! Enough is enough!” At the end his voice was raised to a shout. He was dimly aware of his nails digging deeply into his palms. Kugo leaned on the desk, breathing deeply as he tried to calm himself. He could hear the others shuffling behind him awkwardly.

“Come on,” You murmured and lightly tugged on Keigo’s sleeve. “How about I show you my lab and take some measurements before we get started.”

“Yeah. Um. Yeah.” Keigo allowed you to lead him away. You softly closed the door behind you. Kugo remained, hunched and breathing raggedly. It took him several minutes to calm down. It took him a few minutes beyond that to gather the nerve to make the trek down to the support lab. He slipped into the room as inconspicously as a man with his fram could manage. You were taking measurements off of Keigo and muttering to yourself as you tapped out notes on your tablet. Keigo noticed Kugo’s entrance and greeted him cautiously. “You good?” Kugo nodded. “I… apologize. It’s been a rather trying week, but I should have composed myself better.”

Keigo waved him off. “No worries, man, no worries. Y/n was just telling me she thinks that she’ll be able to rig up something for me that would help slow my fall in situations where my wings get damaged.”

You hummed an affirmative, taking a few more measurements before you started describing your process. Kugo couldn’t help but notice you didn’t look his way. You looked at the ground, at your tablet, at Keigo, but you were clearly avoiding Kugo’s gaze. He mentally winced as he settled onto an out of the way stool. It was rare for him to have that kind of emotional outburst. It probably could be heard even from outside his office. He’d make sure to apologize to you better when he got the chance. But for now, it was looking like it would be a long, awkward day. Goodie.

~~~~~

Kugo growled under his breath the next morning when he saw the cloth wrapped bundle sitting on his desk. Yesterday’s embarrassment was still fresh in his mind as he stalked forward. His thick fingers quickly untied the surprisingly unpatterned piece of fabric. There, under the cloth, on top of the box, was a note as there always was. Kugo’s anger was cooled by confusion when he saw it, however. The paper was a plain yellow post-it note. Instead of the painstakingly cute handwriting with the heart dotted “i’s, there was a clearly hasty scrawl.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to annoy you. This will be the last one.”

Kugo frowned, shifting in his seat. Clearly the bento maker had heard about his outburst from yesterday. That was… unfortunate. But perhaps for the best, since he had no way of directly telling them to cease their nonsense. Unconsciously, his hand balled up the handkerchief and as he had been doing for a while, he scented it.

The cloth had a slight smell of salt to it. Tears, Kugo realized uncomfortably. The smell of tears slightly diluted the normal soothing smell of whoever had carefully packaged these bentos. He had little appetite as he looked over what was there. Tempura. Salmon. Vegetables. A large portion of tamagoyaki. But the part that caused an uncomfortable weight to settle in his chest was the little red box, filled with slightly clumsy, clearly homemade chocolates. Kugo closed his eyes, sighing as he set the box to the side to wait for lunch. This was good. This was what he wanted, to be left alone instead of some kind hearted omega taking pity on him. He had lived a long time without homemade bentos and little notes. He certainly didn’t want the small offering of chocolates. When lunchtime came, he certainly didn’t linger over the food longer than usual, savoring each bite. He tried to tell himself that this was for the best. That this was what he wanted. He refused to think about why he tucked the handkerchief and the box of chocolates into his desk drawer instead of leaving them in the break room as usual.

The next day as Kugo opened his office door, he looked toward his desk out of habit; searching for the lunch that had been left. His chest gave an uncomfortable lurch when he found the desk was bare. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. This was fine. This was what he wanted. The sooner he forgot about all this nonsense, the sooner things would return to normal. He settled into his chair and began sifting through the paperwork he had to deal with. No better way to take his mind off his troubling thoughts and distract the whine of his inner alpha. He was certain. Things would be back to normal soon.

Two weeks later, Kugo listlessly picked at the limp lettuce of the poor excuse of a salad that he had picked up at a convenience store. He sighed, putting the lid back on the barely touched meal resolving to throw it away when he next passed a garbage can. He didn’t like to admit it, but he missed the carefully planned meals. Wondering what cute surprise was going to be next. It was nice that someone thought he might enjoy seeing animal shaped onigiri and cheesecake flavored kit kats. His alpha whimpered when he thought about the contented omega scent that gently perfumed every handkerchief, except the last. But just as the note had said, he had received nothing since that last bento. His thoughts remained gloomy as he entered the agency, quickly making his way into his office, locking the door behind him. He knew better than to hope as he looked towards his desk. Bare, once again. Sighing heavily, he slumped into his chair. He gently pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk. Carefully nestled into it was the cleaned, empty bento box from the last meal, the small box of dwindling homemade chocolates, and that last precious handkerchief.

Kugo carefully removed the handkerchief. He brought the cloth to his nose, inhaling deeply. Stabbing pain shot through him as he realized the scent was barely there anymore. The faint scent of tears almost completely overpowering the last lingering trace of distressed omega. His hands clutched the fabric tightly, squeezing until he realized the stress he was putting on the fabric. He quickly placed it on the desk and tried in vain to smooth out the wrinkles. After a minute of fussing, he gently refolded it and placed it back in the drawer. Kugo stared at the contents, unblinking before slowly sliding the drawer closed. It was almost gone. Everything was almost gone. And he didn’t know how to get it back.

With a low growl, Kugo pushed himself up. Today was a rare day where he hoped for trouble on his patrol. A fight would certainly take his mind off things, and just maybe calm the whining alpha that echoed throughout his entire being.

~~~~

He really needed to be careful what he wished for. Kugo winced as he limped toward the support lab. He had gotten a fight alright. He had gotten three fights, a twisted ankle, and a once again smashed communication headset. It wasn’t his fault that he had gotten thrown backwards into a rather solid concrete wall. Y/N was going to kill him.

Kugo pushed the lab door open, stepping inside. His forehead creased in worry. The lab felt off. Wrong in a way he couldn’t immediately place a finger finger on. Well, he’d have to think about it later, he decided as he made his way to where you were sitting. You were at your workbench, tapping your pen on the table and staring at nothing when he settled down on the stool next to you. You glanced over as Kugo sat down, did a double take and let out a small noise of surprise.

“Sakamata! What happened to you?”

The large man shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “The usual. Villain didn’t behave exactly how I thought, and I paid for not being vigilant enough. Nothing too bad. Twisted ankle and roughed up a little. Unfortunately though…”

Sheepishly as a scolded schoolboy, Kugo pulled the shattered remains of his latest communicator out of his pocket and placed them on the workbench.

“Kugo!”

He couldn’t help but smile. He loved the times when you got worked up enough to call him by his first name. He watched as you gingerly sifted through the sad shattered remains.

“What did you do, hit it with a rock?!”

“Concrete wall, actually.”

You stilled before turning to look at Kugo, sharp and suspicious. “And I assume you were wearing it at the time?”

Kugo had the decency to look embarrassed as he nodded. Suddenly he was being fussed over, gentle hands touching his face and turning his head this way and that. An exclamation and curse left you when you found a large, sluggishly bleeding gash on the back of Kugo’s head.

“You! You Alpha!” You huffed as you started digging through the pockets of your lab coat. Kugo got a brief glimpse of colored fabric before the handkerchief was softly dabbing at his wound. Kugo hissed, only half listening as the scolding continued about how knot headed alphas needed to learn to go to the medical ward first before worrying about stupid replacable tech. He was brought back to the present when a hand, so much smaller than his own, grabbed his hand. You easily maneuvered him so that Kugo was now firmly holding the handkerchief over the cut. You hummed, satisfied for now.

“Now Sakamata, please hold that there until you can get medical to look at it. Doubt a hard headed man like you has a concussion, but might need stitches. I’m not exactly an expert. Don’t worry about the headset. I should be able to get a new one to you before my replacement takes over. And if not, I’ll be leaving some blueprints behind anyway.”

What?

“Replacement?”

You stilled, looking away from him. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I just… I never found the right time to tell you.” You fidgeted, rubbing your thumb over your knuckles. “I’m going to be going to America soon. I’ve gotten a good offer to work with a few heroes over there that need someone specialized in mutation supports. It would do a lot to boost my career…”

Kugo reached out, grabbing your hand, and stopping your nervous motions. He tried to find words in his stalling brain. “This is really sudden, Y/N.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You wouldn’t meet his gaze.

He gently shook his head, giving your hand a squeeze. “Not scolding you. Just, is everything alright? Is something going on?”

You pulled away, digging your hands into your hair with a sigh. “You know me too well.”

Kugo gave half a smile. “I would hope so. I like to think we’re friends. Is there anything I can do? Are you in trouble in some way?”

You shook your head. “No. No, nothing like that. It’s kind of embarrassing. Just… A courtship that really didn’t turn out well. And I just… I could really use some time away to get my head back on straight. Eagle Pride’s office has mentioned wanting me to go over and collaborate with them for a while, and what better time than now?” Your laugh sounded bitter.

Kugo sat silent and stunned. He hadn’t known you were courting. Being courted? Honestly, he wasn’t even sure of your dynamic. If you weren’t beta, then you certainly hid your scent well. He cleared his throat before speaking hesitantly.

“I certainly won’t stop you if you truly wish to go. It is an excellent opportunity. Might be a step in having your own support company if you wish. And if not, you’re always welcome here, Y/n. You must know that.”

You give a small smile, finally looking him in the eye. His chest tightened when he saw tears there. “I know, Kugo. You’ve been nothing but kind to me. You’re a good friend for putting up with me.”

“There’s no putting up with. I enjoy your company, always.” Kugo reached out slowly, but you turned away and wiped your eyes with your sleeve. He frowned, placing his hand back in his lap. “And you sure you’re alright, Y/N? No one is threatening you, are they? Someone unsafe taken an interest in you?”

You snorted, “Nothing like that. And people think I’m the dramatic one. No. I just got rejected is all. I miscalculated. Thought they were interested, but they made it very clear they aren’t.”

“Then they’re an idiot.” The words escaped Kugo before he even realized what he was going to say. But it was true, he was sure. You were beautiful, kind, smart. Anyone would be beyond lucky to hold your interest. On the rare days he allowed himself to dream, he often thought he’d love to have someone like you as a mate. Someone who knew him well and cared for him as much as he cared for them. He felt pains in his chest and his eyes widened as realization hit him in the face like a wet mackerel. Oh. He was jealous. He was jealous of whoever it was that y/n had tried to court. And he was angry. Furious that some fool had rejected her. Hurt her. But he was glad she was still here. Yet she was going to leave. Going to leave him here alone. His thoughts swirled and tumbled, and he swayed slightly in his seat. And hand on his shoulder stilled him and he looked up into your concerned eyes.

“Hey, you’re not looking too good. You really should get to medical. Do you need me to help you?”

“No. No. I can make it down a few hallways, thank you though.”

Kugo stood, and tried to give back the cloth he had been pressing to his head. You pushed it back, gently scolding him. “I said leave it there until someone can look at it. If you insist on returning a silly old rag, you can wash it and give it back later.”

Kugo nodded and mumbled out a goodbye. He had a lot to think about as he slowly made his way to medical. So. He liked you. The more he thought about it, the clearer it seemed to him. He’d liked you for a while. Things were always easy with you. But now, you’re leaving. He couldn’t stop you, and wouldn’t even if he could. You clearly felt like you needed to go.

He was still ruminating on his thoughts as the doctor ushered him to a bed. He was poked and prodded. Kugo managed to mumble out what must have been coherent answers. In the end, he did end up needing a few stitches. And just like that, he found himself fixed up and back in his office. He snorted a laugh at the absurdity. How can a day like this somehow manage to be just another day? Kugo sat in his chair and twisted the cloth in his hands absently. He brought it to his nose and sniffed out of habit. Oh course, the scent of his own blood was the most dominant. But underneath that was the usual calming scent of omega. His shoulders relaxed as the tension ran out of him. He pulled that cloth away, idly looking at the pattern. It was cute. Floral. Reminded him of the cloth that the first bento had been…

Wait.

He hastily brought the handkerchief to his nose again. There was no mistaking it. He knew that smell. He had missed that smell for weeks. It was faint. But it absolutely was there. Omega, soft and sweet. Not any omega. His omega. His bento maker. His y/n.

Y/n.

Y/n who had seen him toss her courting gift in the trash, who thought he had completely rejected her, and who was moving to America.

Kugo was on his feet in an instant. He’d never made the trip to the support lab that quickly before. You jumped when the door flew open, hitting so harshly that the doorknob dented the wall.

“Sakamata! What?”

He dropped to his knees before you, arms wrapped tight around your waist and his head pressing against your stomach.

“Kugo?” You asked softly, hesitantly stroking along his fin. “Kugo, what’s wrong?”

“You’re the best thing life has ever given me. Please don’t leave. Please.”

You made a soft, wounded sound. You kneeled slowly, and took his face in your hands. Kugo leaned into your touch like a man who had been starved of affection his whole life. You stroked your thumbs over his cheeks.

“Kugo, I’m going to need you to speak plainly, so I’m sure I don’t misunderstand. What’s going on?”

His large hands came up, taking both your hands in his.

“I’m an idiot.”

You snorted and tilted your head, confused. He met your gaze as he continued.

“I’m an idiot and I love you.”

You inhaled sharply, looking at him in disbelief. He pulled the crumpled, bloodstained handkerchief from his pocket.

“I’m an idiot because I love you and yet I never even noticed that you loved me too. You showed me every day. You knew I like eggs just as much as fish. You cared enough to make them cute. You gave me extra sweets on days when I was working a double shift. I loved every bento you made me. I have every note saved. And I might be an idiot, but I’d be an even bigger idiot if I let you go without saying something. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, and I love you and please don’t go.”

“Kugo.” You smiled sadly. “I’m sorry. I already promised I’d go.”

Kugo inhaled a shaky breath, his eyes lowering to the floor.

“But,” you used your hands to lift his chin. His gaze snapped back to yours. “It’s just for six months. Six months, and then I’ll be right back here. With you.”

“With me?”

“Mmhmm.” You gave his nose a quick peck. “Always. You’re the best man I know. I don’t think there’s anyone else in the world for me.”

Kugo groaned and pulled you close, burying his face in your neck. From here, although it was very faint, he could smell your soothing scent. “You can’t say things like that and then tell me I can’t have you here for six months!”

You chuckled as you hugged him close. “Well, we have two weeks before I leave. We have a little time. And once I’m back? We’ll have all the time in the world.”

“Even that won’t be enough time to spend with you.”

“Dork.”

He hummed his agreement. “But it’s true. Eternity would be enough time to spend with you.” Before you could protest, he pulled you in for a gentle, but determined kiss.

#gang orca #gang orca x reader #kugo x reader #kugo sakamata #kugo sakamata x reader #Alpha gang orca #Alpha kugo #omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #reader insert #bnha reader insert #female reader #omega reader #omegaverse reader insert #collab piece

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korasonata · 3 years ago

Text

I had someone last time ask me about time stamps, so all of these from this point out will have the time stamp at the top of each set of quotes. I am currently in the process of retrieving the time stamps for the previous 5 posts, and will link an updated version when I have retrieved them all.

Link to the video is here: https://m.twitch.tv/videos/1149389841

Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo model streams part 6!

(I am very sorry I tried very hard to make this not as long as it is. There will probably be another extended cut post because there was just SO much happening in this stream)

—

00:00:57

Cleo: Welcome to the stream. Mine and/or Joes. Or, both.

Joe: Yay!

Cleo: I suppose that’s what the “and” means. In that statement. That would make sense. Glue pot’s ready—

Joe: It makes sense to me.

Cleo: …that makes me even more nervous that it makes sense to you, Joe. Not gonna lie.

—

00:16:34

Joe: So, anyway, last night at dinner, uh, like I— I had put this interview on while I was cooking and I kinda left it on as my daughter sat down for dinner and I was like “hey, this is an interview with this very famous journalist from about 50 years ago. Uh, he’s got a really interesting voice and a really interesting cadence, and I wanna kind of listen to it so I can— maybe copy it as like a joke in one of my videos.” And my daughter listens to it for about a— a minute—

Cleo: And then says “now that’s— is that you?”

Joe: *laughing* She just turns to me and she’s like “my friend…her parents got her…did you know they make crayon applesauce now? It says crayola. It tastes. Like they’ve blended a brown crayon. And sprinkled it on top.”

Cleo: That sounds grim.

Joe (prideful laughing): And it just kind of matches the cadence while also talking about something terrible to ingest?*laughing* And I just start cracking up because like— *laughing continues* she gets it! And she’s just like “why are you laughing?” Because you just— you nailed it! You nailed the pauses, you— you nailed the subject matter, like this is— this is just great!! And she’s like “no! This is a real thing! This crayon applesauce is terrible!” And I’m just laughing and laughing and she’s like trying to explain why it’s not good, and I’m like “I understand why it’s not good, but—“

Cleo (reading chat): “Joe’s daughter is awesome.” I think you’re probably correct. Joe’s daughter is indeed awesome.

Joe: Yeah, I’m very very happy with my daughter. (Reading chat) What was for dinner? Well not crayola applesauce!

—

Cleo (in response to someone complimenting her 3rd Life videos): Awe! Thank you joytobake, that’s really nice! I am…always pleased when people like my personality. Because I’m never sure that people should, you know?

Joe: Yeah, that’s— that’s what we were talking about— I think before we started streaming, was like, Cleo really gets me, and that’s a huge red flag.

Cleo: That’s a— yeah. As a human being. Understanding Joe - massive red flag. Huge. This is a danger. To everybody. And particularly Joe.

Joe: It’s the terror of being truly known.

—

00:47:08

Joe: Up until this point I didn’t show the instructions, but now I feel like I have to.

Cleo: Because otherwise people are going to judge your competency?

Joe: Yeah! They’re gonna go “ok. Any idiot can figure out how these pieces go together” but if you look at these instructions, that’s not true. I’m a spectacular idiot, and I have no idea what I’m doing with these.

Cleo: I mean. I want— I want to confirm. Yes. Spectacular.

Joe: Yes. Thank you Cleo.

Cleo: *snicker* You’re welcome Joe. I always like to insult the people I care about the most.

Joe (quietly): I know…I appreciate it.

Cleo (Watching chat): I’m waiting for Cam to confirm that.

(Cam in chat: She insults me SO MUCH, she called me a gibbon last night…)

—

00:59:42

Joe: *reading tips*

Cleo (reading chat): “you can’t stop Joe when he’s on a role.” This is true.

Joe (not paying attention): *still reading tips*

Cleo: I mean you can, you just have to go: Joe. Joe. JOE. And then he stops sometimes.

Joe (quietly, but with emphasis): WHAAAAAAAAAAT??!?

Cleo: I’M DOING A THING!

—

01:00:46

Joe (reading tips): “This is an encouragement donation for more of you singing in the future.” Ooo, I think Cleo would like that because the future is not now.

—

01:02:23

Cleo (genuine singing): Ground control to major Tom…

Joe: *listening in awe*

Cleo: …That’s…pretty much all I know…

Joe: Oh, I was gonna let you keep going, I— I wanted to hear more.

Cleo: Oh no. That’s pretty much all I know.

Joe: But yeah. Hypothermic haddoc writes (singing) “tell my wife I love her very much!” …I was waiting for you to jump in with the (singing) “she knoooooows!”

Cleo: Again. Again, I don’t know the song very well.

Joe: Oh. And here I am sitting in my tin can—

—

01:47:54

Cleo: *leaves to get a drink*

Joe: While you’re getting your drink I guess I’ll provide some musical entertainment.

SILENCE

Joe: …I don’t have anything prepared. So, let’s see…do we have any birthdays? *laughing* if it’s anybody’s birthday I’ll sing to you while Cleo’s gone.

Cleo: I’m back.

Joe: Oh ok. Well, sorry birthday boys. And girls.

Cleo: feel free to sing to people. I’m sure people want that.

Joe: no…well, I was gonna do it while you were away cause I need to get up and get my drink as soon as you’re back.

Cleo: Oh, go and get a drink and I will sing happy birthday—

Joe: So I’m gonna go get my drink, I’ll be right back.

Cleo: —to people who have chosen to spend their birthday…here…I’m not judging, uh, but— (upbeat singing) Happy Birthday to you! You smell like a zoo! (Talking) …uh, etcetera etcetera… (Singing) I forgot how this song goes! Nevermind it sucks to be you! *blows a raspberry*

—

01:49:09

Cleo: I mean it’s Cams birthday on Saturday, and I will sing to Cam on his birthday. His birthday is not today. I mean he probably wants me to not sing to him on his birthday, to be fair—

[Cam: Please don’t sing to me]

Cleo: —but you know, I might do it anyway. Cause it’s obnoxious. And I will laugh. (Reading chat) “Happy Birthday! Here’s some genocide! Please don’t sing to me…” *laughing* I won’t sing to you if you don’t want me to, Honey.

[Cam: Not happy birthday at least lol]

Cleo: I might torture you in other ways though.

—

01:50:55

Cleo: Hiiiiii Jooooooe.

Joe: Hello! Joe Hiws hewe! I am back fwom my dwink bweak!

Cleo: …what is that voice?

Joe (in a Kermit the Frog/Swedish Chef/Yoda hybrid of an accent): I feewl wike it’s fwom home star wunner or something, I don’t know! It’s almost Kermit THe Fwog Hewe, but not quITe!

*Cleo laughing*

It’s a little— (Normal voice) I dunno. I still had some of my drink in my throat, so I was like— I didn’t wanna like accidentally cough it out on the microphone as soon as I started talking. So I was just like (weird voice continues) I’ll do thIS vOIce

*Squealing giggling from Cleo*

(Same iteration of previous accent now blended somehow with the voice of Goofy from Micky Mouse) It’ll keep my mOUth in a shape that if I start— me coughing up a dwink it’ll just go into the chEEks on EIther sIde. It’s a natuwal, uh bARRier against, uh, hydration escapism! Uh yuh!!

Cleo: *giggles* Ok Joe. Ok.

Joe: *high pitched laughing* I don’t know Cleo! I’m just gonna keep making noises until people give me money! It’s jus— it’s how I pay rent.

Cleo: *laughing* Making noises until people give you— ahhhh…..

Joe: Yeah

Cleo: — actually…..yeah. Yeah. Yeah…Um (reading chat) “it’s drunk Kermit” *wheezing*

Joe (drunk Kermit The Frog voice): It’s 5:00 somewhere!

Cleo: *laughing* thanks for this. I needed— I needed this moment of— of— whatever this was.

—

01:53:54

Joe: So my daughter said the most Wednesday Adams thing to me the other day—

Cleo: Oh no

Joe: Except she didn’t do the deadpan delivery. She was very upbeat about this. So apparently “UP” has, on Dinsey+ a series of shorts about the old man and the dog. Right? And they’re called something like “a Dougs Life” cause Doug is the name of the dog

Cleo: yeah.

Joe: and she goes “oh! And it’s short! Like a dogs lifespan!”

SILENCE

Cleo: …Your…kid is very much your kid, you know that right?

Joe (proud dad): I know right?!

—

01:58:20

Cleo: I mean…you’d kill it at the Met Galla. Not gonna lie.

Joe (excited): Oh my god— I wanna get one of those Manuel suits that has like all the rhinestones and the flowers on it? Um, but, you know, like, those are very expensive.

Cleo: We live with what we can afford. Maybe someone can make you a Diamond encrusted suit that you can wear on camera. And have all the sparkles as green.

Joe (very excited): Oh my gosh— actually— so—

02:20:45

Joe: Meanwhile in my Discord everyone’s posting what they describe as “eye searingly beautiful” lime green wedding dresses. For my next wedding. Um—

Cleo: *snicker* is that what you’re wearing for your next wedding?

Joe: you know, honestly at this point I don’t wanna make any assumptions about anything.

Cleo: *cackling*

—

02:31:07

(This is context for the next one)

Cleo (reading chat): “some people have too much time on their hands” I mean, I personally would not drive 8 hours to see— um…

Joe: …me?

Cleo: I dunno, I might drive 8 hours to see you.

Joe: I offered to drive 8 hours to see you when you were coming to Disney and you said no, so I’m gonna assume that you would not drive 8 hours to see me.

Cleo: I mean, I— li— the key word there was “might”. I wou— I would have to have my mini frea— well I was freaked out at that point. When you offered, and and I was just like “oh god no.” Because, you know, social anxiety is a thing.

Joe: Mhm. I’ve heard of that.

Cleo: Yeah. And I do not do well particularly meeting people for the first time, even people I’ve known for a while. I go very very quiet and umm…I think it’s worse actually with people that I’ve known for a while? Um, online, um…because— cause my brain goes “well you’re gonna make a s—your, your— your going to do something and say something stupid. You going— they’re gonna hate you in real life” um…so, yeah. My brain absolutely freaked out at that moment.

—

02:34:12

Cleo: But, you know, like I say, I get hate mail on the regular, it’s fine. I mean part of that is daring to be a woman on the Internet, but only part. The other part is the fact that I’m also an awful human being. So, you know.

SILENCE

Cleo: …the silence isn’t doing— the silence doesn’t do you— do me any favours Joe.

Joe: Well, you know, I didn’t wanna talk over you when you’re sharing your insecurities.

Cleo: yeah….

Joe: That seems rude.

Cleo: I mean��

Joe: So I wanted to make sure you were done.

Cleo: no no no no, that’s fine. I’m always done Joe.

Joe: And nOW I can actually tell you how I really feel.

Cleo: No, please don’t. Not onl— no. That will— that will make me even more uncomfortable.

Joe (upbeat singing): The praise train is on its way!! Choo choo!!

Cleo: Noooooooooooooooooo!! Nooo!!

Joe: For Cleo it’s her day!! Choo choo!!

Cleo: *noises of distress*

Joe: Cleo is really great!! Choo choo!! Choo choo!!

Cleo: *distressful crying*

Joe: She’s not merely ok!! She doesn’t have to be the best at talking to people for the first time!! Cause they’ll love her anyway!! And sometimes they’ll even rhyyyme!! Yay for Cleo!!

Cleo: *physically going through a full body cringe* noooo

Joe: See, it would have been rude if I did that in the middle of your thing.

Cleo: *sob laughing*

Joe: That would not have been socially acceptable.

Cleo (through tears): I’m not even sure it was socially acceptable now.

Joe: WHY NOT?!

Cleo: (sobbing and laughing simultaneously) I hate you so much.

—

02:38:05

Cleo (reading chat): “We all need a Joe in our life, who sings a theme song for us when we’re talking ourselves down” I’m not sure you do.

Joe: Yeah, that wasn’t really a theme song? Like, if I was gonna do a theme song for Cleo—

Cleo (with immense dread): Oh no…no…no…

—

02:43:07

Joe: I’d just like to point out (very obnoxiously high pitched voice) That this is Cleo’s average person voice, which means that 50% of people have an even higher pitched voice!

Cleo: …You know, I can’t actually stab Joe through the Internet. And I’ve always been upset about that.

—

02:53:36

Joe (with all the enthusiasm of a 16 year old girl gossiping at a slumber party): Ooo I wanna ask Cleo about giiiiiirls!!!

Cleo: Ask me about girls! I’m— I’m happy for you to ask me about girls.

Joe: Ok, so, do you— do you feel comfortable saying what your specific, uh, type of woman is? I’m— I’m curious about that.

Cleo: Um, it’s— it’s nerdy girls? Specifically. Umm…not too, um…you know, the kind of running, climbing, you know— sort of— person. You know, it’s— it’s the sort of— it’s the sort of— action girl kinda thing. I kinda like that type. That’s sort of my type.

Joe: Mhm. Yeah, like—

Cleo: Why, what’s your type of girl?

Joe: Well, uh, usually it’s somebody that is— very anti authority— un— un— dissatisfied with the status quo. So usually more punk, or that sort of thing.

Cleo: Yeah. That’s— that’s— that sort of plays into the action girl sort of thing as well. Yeah I get that. So yeah.

Joe: yeah, umm, you— yeah so I don’t know. Um— so not necessarily, uh, as focused on the athleticism element there, but I know like—

Cleo: Well it’s not really athleticism, it’s— it’s more— it’s more—

Joe: —in terms of like, um, hiking, cause like, uh, you know in college there’s like a climbing and camping club or whatever—

Cleo: Oh yeah, it’s not that sort of person. It’s— it’s more, um…getting out and having a go at things. Like, you know, not— not being afraid to—

Joe: Adventurous

Cleo: Yeah! Adventurous! That’s the word!

—

Cleo (whispering): I don’t know where this bit goes! *gasp* it goes over there!

Joe (whispering): You can do it!

Cleo: I can do it! I believe in me!

Joe: You’ll find a place to glue it! It doesn’t necessarily have to be the right place!

Cleo: I know!

Joe: You’re equally valid regardless!

Cleo: Thanks Joe!

Joe: You’re welcome!

Cleo: It’s appreciated!

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #zombie cleo #zombiecleo #joehills #joe hills #long post

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years ago

Text

Day 106: Eyes

"Malfoy," a voice called as his hair was pushed out of his face and his chin was tilted slightly. "Malfoy," the voice repeated.

Draco was quite certain he must be hallucinating, there was no way that it was who it sounded like.

"Draco," that voice said again, "Wake up."

His eyes fluttered open and he groaned in pain as the light seared through his retinas and straight into his brain.

"Hey," Harry bloody Potter said.

He opened his mouth and spit out a bit of blood.

"Merlin," Potter said, "Do you think you can stand?"

"Yeah," he grunted. "Yes. I'm fine. Thank you for your assistance, Potter."

The other boy huffed a laugh, "Sure. Come on. Let me help you get to Madam Pomfrey."

He shook his head, "Don't let me keep you from your important life," Draco said as he stood up and reached out to steady himself on the wall.

"Draco," he said.

Looking through his swollen eye, he tried to glare at the other boy. "Harry." he parroted.

"You don't have to be so stubborn," he said with a laugh.

He took a step toward the infirmary and his knees buckled.

Potter caught him and put an arm around his waist. "Come on."

(Read more below the cut)

"What? No one else to save?" Draco asked through clenched teeth as he started to hobble off down the hallway using Potter as little as possible.

"Not at the moment, no," Potter quipped. "You want to tell me who did this to you?"

He let out a humorless chuckle, "It doesn't matter."

Potter hummed and caught Draco when he started to slip a bit. "I've got you," he murmured.

Draco tried not to let the words go to his head.

----------

After they'd reached the infirmary Potter tried again to get Draco to tell him what had happened but there was honestly no point.

Madam Pomfrey had shooed Potter out and then Draco had a few hours of peace and quiet while his wounds were healed. Fortunately he had a good book in his school bag, which Potter had carried up for him.

"Why don't you stay over night, love," Madam Pomfrey said and Draco looked up from his book. "You're not quite ready to go back yet and it's just about bed time anyway."

"Thank you," he replied, giving her a little smile before going back to his book.

Shortly thereafter, the door to the infirmary flew open and Draco's head snapped up. Normally an entry of that magnitude meant that something horrible had happened.

But it was just Potter, looking thunderous as he stormed over to Draco's bed.

"Madam Pomfrey's just gone to bed," he said as he closed his book and set it on his lap. "If you've come here to inflict more damage, perhaps you could wait until the morning for her sake."

That stopped the other man in his tracks. "I'm sorry. What?"

"Just, whatever it is that's made you look murderous, I'm sure it's warranted but I do think that Madam Pomfrey deserves a good rest, don't you?"

"I'm not," he shook his head, "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Oh."

Potter rubbed a hand over his face. "I found Smith."

"Ah," he replied.

"He said that you didn't even raise your wand to cast a shield charm to protect yourself," Potter said as though he was personally offended by this.

Draco shrugged.

"Why?" Potter asked. "Hermione thinks it's because the Ministry has told you what spells you can and can't cast, and if that's the case, I'll write a letter to Kingsley right now-"

"It's not because of the Ministry," he interrupted.

"Then why-" he started before pulling over a chair and plopping down next to Draco's bed, "Why do you keep letting this happen to you?"

"I don't see them," Draco replied, staring at his hands that were twisting together in his lap.

"Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't see them," Potter replied.

He shook his head, "Why does it matter?"

"Draco," he said, "You can tell me-"

"There's nothing to tell," he snapped.

"Look, I know that the war was hard on all of us-"

"You have no idea what the war was like for people like me," he interrupted, trying to keep his breathing under control and his voice low.

"No, I suppose you're right," Potter replied and Draco couldn't help but look over at him. "Would you like to tell me?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "There is nothing to tell! Just like there's no reason for me to tell you who keeps cursing me. And there is no reason for me to tell you that I don't stop them because I deserve it!"

They both sat in stunned silence; Draco breathing heavily, his heart hammering away in his chest and Potter just stared at him.

Potter broke first, "You-"

"Don't," Draco said, shaking his head. "Circe, Potter, don't say it. Don't tell me that I don't deserve it because we both know that isn't true."

"Draco," he breathed and it was like he was shoving a jagged, rusty knife straight through his chest.

"Don't," he repeated, begging this time.

"Draco, listen to me."

He shook his head and to his mounting horror a tear spilled from his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault," Potter said.

"Don't," he begged, wrapping his arms around his stomach as though it could stop the way his entire body felt like it was unraveling. "People died-"

"Yes," Potter agreed. "People died on both sides. From your actions, from death eaters actions, from the Order's actions, from my actions; people died. You never actually killed anyone, though. You don't have it in you."

"Potter, I am culpable for-"

"You never killed anyone." Potter repeated. "You didn't want to hurt people, you didn't want to kill people, you just wanted to protect your mum."

"Don't." He shook his head, "You don't understand."

"I actually killed someone," the other boy replied.

"The Dark Lord doesn't coun-"

"When I was eleven," Potter started and Draco was so shocked by those words that he didn't even interrupt. "You remember all of the commotion at the end of the year or first year?"

He nodded slowly.

"I killed Professor Quirrell," he said. "Long story short, because of the blood magic protecting me, he couldn't touch me and it killed him."

"But that's not-"

"Second year, Tom Riddle was sucking Ginny's life force so that he could come back, I killed him. I stabbed the horocrux with a basilisk fang and I didn't even think about it," he continued.

"But-"

"Last year, Pettigrew died because he owed me a life debt and he tried to kill me."

"But-"

"I not only was responsible for Voldemort's death the first time and the second time, I was responsible for killing seven pieces of his soul."

"But it's not the same!" he finally managed to get in.

"Why?"

"Because you were on the right side of things and I wasn't!"

The other boy shook his head, "Yeah but it's not like you wanted to be on that side."

"When I was young-"

"Oh sure," he agreed, "you were a complete arse. But we wouldn't have won if you had turned me in, if you hadn't given me your wand, if you'd killed Dumbledore. It's not who you are any more."

"Still," Draco whispered. "I fixed that closet."

He nodded, "And I can't count the number of things that I've done to cause deaths. Godric, Draco," he shook his head, "I don't sleep well as it is, but I'd never sleep if I held myself responsible for all of the horrible things that happened because of my actions."

"Potter-"

"Look, it doesn't have to happen in a day, but you can't keep doing this, Draco. You can't keep letting people hurt you to atone for your perceived sins."

He let his head fall back against the pillows. As much as he would love to live in the delusions that Potter was offering he couldn't imagine that world actually existed.

"Be my friend."

"Excuse me?" he asked, looking over at the other boy.

"Be my friend," Potter said. "Please."

"Why?"

He sighed, "Because..." he trailed off.

"I'm not a broken thing for you to fix."

"No," he agreed easily. "I'm the broken thing."

Draco stared at him, "You make no sense to me."

Potter grinned like he'd complimented him.

"Will it shut you up if I say yes?" he grumbled.

"For now," he replied with a nod.

"Fine."

"Alright," Potter said, sitting back and making himself comfortable in the chair.

"What are you doing?"

He gave him a little grin, "Being a friend. You're stuck with me like glue now."

"That's a boyfriend not a friend, you're confused."

Potter shrugged and said through a yawn, "Boyfriend, then. That title is fine with me."

"What-?" he started.

But Potter leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead as though it was the most natural thing in the world and every word that Draco knew evaporated. "Good night, Draco Malfoy. Sleep well."

He was so stunned that he said nothing in reply and by the time he'd gotten his thoughts in any semblance of order Potter was fast asleep; his head resting on his hand as he snored.

Draco shook his head and decided that he would just have to wait until the morning to straighten all of this out.

For now, he decided that it might be alright to spend the next few hours with the tiny, fragile ball of joy unfurling in his chest.

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

Day 105: Cuddle | Day 107: Charge

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #Day 106 #Eyes #hogwarts eighth year #Dealing with Trauma #cw: ptsd #becoming friends #drarry #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlets #This one got a little bit long-sorry!!

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comfortwriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Right One Bonus Chapter - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

This is a smut based bonus chapter/part 2 imagine for my one-shot ‘The Right One’

Warnings: swearing, dirty talk, breeding kink, marking kink, fingering, and unprotected sex.

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.

Feeling his body press against you and his semi brush against your thigh, your cheeks began to heat up and flush into a shade of deep pink.

Lee Jordan stood in the doorway, about to tell Fred about the rumours he heard, walking in at the wrong moment he panicked, swearing beneath his breath he quickly walked backwards and out of the dorm room, telling everyone: “do not go in there until Fred comes out”.

Everyone in the common room went bright red, some left the room whilst other giggles and whispered amongst themselves, and the rest going red in embarrassment.

Fred pulls away from the kiss, looking surprised and confused, he licks his lips, opening his mouth to speak but unable to pluck up the right words.

“Don’t you get it?” you breathed out, staring at him “I don’t want George, I never have, I never will - I want you, you’re the right one for me, Freddie.”

Fred smiled with relief and he felt his heart fix itself, glueing its broken pieces back together. He leans back in towards you and places his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him, his lips land on yours and you’re kissing again.

Deepening the kiss, Fred walks you backwards and pushes you down gently on his bed, his tongue exploring your mouth whilst one of his hand sneaks around your back under your shirt, his fingers unclipping your bra, his other hand runs up your thigh. Hooking his finger on the hem of the waist of your knickers, he pulls them down, sliding them down your thighs, legs and ankles.

Dropping your knickers to the floor Fred works on unbuttoning your shirt, finally pulling away from the kiss and your eagerness to feel Fred inside you, you pull down your skirt quickly and you help Fred unbutton your shirt. Finally naked like Fred, you take his hard cock into your hand and you start pumping gently, he moans out at your touch and precum squirts out from the head of his cock.

You spread his silky pre-cum over the top of his cock head, making him moan out, even more, Fred towers over you and starts to suck on your neck, leaving love bites everywhere he can that’s visible.

“Everyone will know you’re mine now” he growled in your ear, moving over to the other side of your neck, sucking on it.

Your moans only turned him on even more whilst you continued to give him a hand job “I’m all yours, Freddie” you breathed out “you already know that”

Fred pulls away from your neck, now covered in his love bites, he eyes you up hungrily and bites his lip “by the end of today, everyone and I mean everyone, will know who you belong to” spitting on his index and middle finger, Fred spread the spit across your entrance hole, before pushing his fingers deep inside you.

Fred other hand rested against the bed, next to your head to keep himself balanced, he pumped his fingers inside of you faster and faster, your walls starting to tighten around his fingers, your moans falling from your lips.

“Everyone will know just by looking at you that we fucked” Fred smirked “You belong to me”

You scrunched your eyes shut and bit your lip “show me that I belong to you, Freddie” you moaned out “incase people forget when your marks fade away”

Fred felt his cock harden at your words, withdrawing his fingers from your cunt, he sucked your juices off his fingers and grabbed hold of you, turning you, your face down pushing you deeper into the mattress with your arse up in the air.

You let out a shocked scream when his hand collided with your arse cheek, followed by a stinging and heat sensation. Fred applied lube onto his large length and onto his hand, spreading it across your entrance as he did with his spit before fingering you.

“Ready, love?” he asked softly

You nodded your head, biting your lip once more “I’m ready, Freddie”

Fred slowly pushed his cock inside of you, your walls instantly swallowing him whole and tightening around him, one hand grips your waist while the other grabs your hair, pulling so you arch your back, Fred starts to fuck you faster, the sound of your moans and him slamming against you fill the bedroom.

“You feel so fucking good!” you moan, gripping onto the bedsheet.

“Say my name baby, say my name whilst I ravage your cunt” Fred panted, your walls tightening around him even more.

“Fred!” you moan out loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as he delivers another slap to your behind “You feel fucking incredible!”

“That’s my girl” he grunts “I want to cum inside you, fill you up so everyone can’t ignore that I fucked you, that you allowed me to knock you up”

Fred let go of your hair, making you fall forwards and grab onto his pillow, moaning into it loudly “I want everyone to know” you panted “you being responsible” you panted again, moaning out “for getting me pregnant”

Fred could feel his cock twitch inside of you, he quickly pulled out, causing you to whine as he left you empty.

“Lie on your back” he ordered, pumping his cock “I want to see your face when I tie you down to me”

Doing as you were told, you turned over and lay on your back, your neck hurting slightly from the bruises. Fred pulled on your legs and propped them over his shoulders, your entrance on display in front of him perfectly.

“Please Freddie” you breathed “show them who I belong to”

Fred slammed inside of you, fucking you fast, causing the bed to rock and both of your moans to get louder. You could feel his cock repeatedly hit your G-Spot, causing your lower tummy to tense up, the pressure increasing with each thrust.

“I’m getting close!” you panted, biting your lip, watching Fred continue to pound you.

“Cum for me Y/N” he moaned “cum all over my cock, I’m getting close too”

Fred continued to fuck you, each thrust sending you over the edge.

“Fred, I’m cumming!” you screamed, the pressure in your lower tummy built up until it finally dissipated as you came, your cum gushing down Fred’s length.

Your walls tightened around Fred so tight you could feel him throbbing inside of you, “so fucking hot, Y/N” Fred moaned, his head lolling back “I’m going to cum”

Fred spilt himself inside of you, his cum filling you up and planting a seed deep inside of you. He waited for a moment before pulling out, making sure no other cum leaked out of him, and he collapsed next to you, panting and pushing the hair out of his face.

“W-What's in the Zonko’s bag?” he breathed out, pointing to the bag sitting on his bedside table.

You were catching your breath too, you smiled and laughed lightly “a few presents I bought you on the date you never showed up for”

Fred winced and pulled you into him, cuddling you, the two of you laying in completely silent bliss.

“I’m in love with you Fred” you murmured softly “but if you stand me up like that again because of your brother George, and I’ll swear to Merlin I’ll punch you in the cock!”

Fred felt better knowing you had forgiven him and were able to joke about it with him, the two of you smirked and shared a laugh, making a memorable start to the beginning of your relationship.

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

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley one shot #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #ron weasley

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woulddieforperrytheplatypus · 3 years ago

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I've been rewatching all the Loki content to get ready for the new show and I have thought of A Phineas and Ferb AU™ for your viewing pleasure (and if anyone wants to turn any part of this into an actual fanfic I would owe you my life)

this post was brought to you in partnership with @dumbausfromdanville

You know how the first Thor movie ends with Loki yeeting himself off the Bifrost and falling to earth? What if, instead of going after the Tesseract, he falls straight to the Tri-State area?

Jane, Darcy, and Selvig all seemed to be on vacation, right? So Thor presumably took place during the summer — say, perhaps, ending on June 3? So he falls right onto Phineas and Ferb's rollercoaster just before it goes down that ♫ three-mile drop straight down ♪. He has no idea wtf is happening so it's not like he gets the chance to sit down and put on a seatbelt, so he's stuck holding on for dear life for the entire rollercoaster ride which Phineas and Ferb find weird but they're not really concerned bc they're chill lil dudes and tbh this isn't too far off a normal day for them.

Phineas and Loki strike up a none-too-pleasant conversation (not that Phineas notices Loki's bad mood; he's too Him to realize not everyone is rainbows and sunshine all day, every day), and our favorite lil disoriented demigod has to figure out where the fuck he is now ("You there. What realm is this?" "Danville 🙂" "Wut da fuk?") and what the fuck he's supposed to do now that he's here.

Phineas ends up inviting him to hang out for the afternoon, and Loki is about to turn him down but then he smells the pie. He's never had doonkleberry pie before so obviously he has to try it. Then, when Loki's no longer hangry, they can hold an actual conversation. It's lowkey more Loki wallowing in his own self-pity than anything else, but Ferb recognizes Asgard when Loki mentions it so he and Phineas piece together that he's a god pretty quickly.

More importantly, though, they figure out that he's completely alone, and because Loki never mentions trying to, you know, murder his brother and lowkey overthrow the monarchy, they just kinda assume Loki's family sucks (Ferb is completely prepared to start the anti-Thor club but Phineas stops him because he doesn't want his brother to get struck by lightning) and adopt him (without his consent, but it's not like he has anywhere else to be -- and he did like that pie).

Loki has no desire to build anything with the boys He thinks the idea of a backyard beach they make the next morning is stupid — even more stupid than a regular beach, and that's saying something. But over time, he gets more involved -- not just with the boys, but with the entire family. He helps the boys build their inventions. He talks about human history with Lawrence and corrects much of his knowledge on mythology. He lets Linda teach him how to bake seriously, her pies are so good. He even suffers through Candace's mall trips as long as he gets to go to that fro-yo place on the second floor (though he draws the line at any conversation involving romance).

He's still a little skeptical of the platypus (and he feels like the platypus is a little skeptical of him, too) but Phineas insists that he's "just a platypus" and he "doesn't do much." Loki doesn't realize that Perry's keeping an eye on him for OWCA, nor does he know that Monogram has absolutely no idea what to make of the dude so he hasn't actually told any of his superiors about him. As far as the government is concerned, after the fiasco in New Mexico, Loki just disappeared.

This makes it fucking hilarious when the boys accidentally steal the superheroes' powers in Mission: Marvel and the superheroes show up at the Flynn-Fletchers' front door only to see fucking Loki. Loki just shuts the door in their faces without a word because what the fuck?, but eventually Phineas and Ferb go check the door and they agree to help the heroes (much to Loki's chagrin), which, of course, isn't complete with Candace fangirling over them (also much to Loki's chagrin; she never fangirled over him). At first the Avengers are fully convinced that Loki is responsible for stealing their powers, and Loki never actually denies it because he's a little shit but Phineas, Ferb, and their friends are very insistent that Loki didn't do anything (except a little bit of manual labor putting together the satellites because they're 10 and he's a whole-ass demigod).

At some point, Thor and Loki have a very heated discussion about the events of Thor, and it's pretty much all news to the Flynn-Fletchers and their friends. They're not really sure what to make of it so they basically glue their mouths shut and watch it all play out. I'd like to think it goes something like it does in The Avengers and that a) Thor is pissed because what the fuck have you been up to Loki you fucking dumbass, b) Thor has been in mourning since Loki yeeted himself into the abyss and he wants to make sure the guy knows it, and c) Loki does not take it seriously at all he's being antagonistic the entire time because he is so sick of Mr. High-And-Mighty's shit. In the end, Loki storms out of the SHEDquarters and Phineas doesn't even think to try to stop him until he's halfway out the door and it's too late.

He shows up again when Phineas, Ferb, and the Avengers try to fight the bad guys in the mall with the wrong powers and he basically singlehandedly saves their asses until superhero Perry shows up. As everyone's favorite shapeshifter, he has absolutely no problem figuring out that this beaver duck dude is the Flynn-Fletchers' platypus. He has no idea what to do with that information, but it sure is information that he now has apparently. (At this point, poor Loki has a very warped sense of what earth is supposed to be like lmao).

Phineas tries to get Loki to come back with them after superhero Perry grabs them and carries them home. Instead, Loki cuts himself loose and falls like 30 feet straight down (and tbh after falling from the Bifrost, that's nothing to him) and peaces the fuck out.

Loki ends up accidentally bonding with Candace and Isabella over feeling useless and unwanted (and he absolutely gets his own verse in Only Trying to Help because it's what he deserves), but unlike the two girls who are hell-bent on changing that, Loki is content wallowing in his own self-pity. He's tried this whole "being important" thing before and he ended up in self-exile for it. He's not putting himself through it again because he really doesn't expect it to end well. But then the powerless heroes decide to face the villains again, and with Candace and Isabella in space and Perry nowhere to be seen, he realizes it is once again up to him to keep the tri-state area safe (which he knows is a stupid priority but he's gotten kind of attached to these stupid little humans and he wants to keep them safe).

Then the heroes get their powers back and they join Loki (and Perry and the mysterious waffle gun in the sky) and beat the shit out of the villains. Thor and Loki work together in the heat of the battle which serves as a Great Bonding Moment™, and once the villains are gone, they have a nice lil heart-to-heart where they both apologize for their past. Thor remarks that Loki seems to have grown a lot over the last couple of months and tries to bring Loki home with him, but Loki refuses. He'll never be welcome back into Asgard, no matter what Thor may say.

But he is welcome with the Flynn-Fletchers, who are completely over the fact that he tried to ruin Thor's life and take his not-so-rightful place on the throne (except Candace who's very skeptical about having him back but it's not like Linda will believe her if she tries to tell her what Thor and Loki talked about so her opinion is unfortunately as irrelevant as it usually is on the show).

And early the next morning, before anyone else is awake, Perry gets an alert that he's needed in his headquarters (presumably to talk to or about Fury). He quietly sneaks off, only to find Loki waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him. They have a very nice "conversation" (not that Perry speaks) about the superhero Ducky Momo they saw the day before, and Loki assures him that his secret is safe, thus starting a much-needed bromance between Loki and Perry because it's what my babies, goddammit!

Anyways yeah if anyone wants to write a fanfic about Loki hanging out with Phineas and Ferb during his self-exile I would give you a socially distant high-five because I want to read it but I have too many other fanfics on my plate to start this one for at least a few months. It doesn't have to follow this prompt literally at all (I swear I wasn't trying to get this in-depth with it but this is what I do apparently) or it can follow this prompt exactly idc i just want a PnF/Loki fanfic 🥺

#marvel #mcu #loki #phineas and ferb #pnf #fanfic idea?#mission: marvel #mission marvel

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wondernimbus · 4 years ago

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stressful times — fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x female!reader

request #1: Can I request soft Fred Weasley comforting his girlfriend when she’s not feeling well/on her period and falling behind in classes/ homework? Pretty please 🥺

request #2: Can you write a Fred x reader where the reader is on her period while at Hogwarts during a time when a lot of tests are happening and she needs to be studying but isn’t and Fred notices cause usually she’s like Hermione and always does homework/studies and he figures out why she isn’t and helps her feel better?

a/n: THIS IS WAY OVERDUE IM SORRY but i decided to combine these 2 reqs bc they were pretty similar !!

[Y/N] is stressed.

School has never been a piece of cake for anyone—not even for Hermione Granger, who is one of the brightest people at Hogwarts, and certainly not for her, one of the Gryffindor Quidditch team's Chasers, and on top of that, a prefect currently studying for her N.E.W.Ts.

Wood expects her to practice out by the Quidditch pitch every free period in preparation for the upcoming match against Hufflepuff. This goes for every member of the team—even the ones who, like [Y/N], are studying for the so-called "big exams". And despite [Y/N] wanting to do well in her tests, she also doesn't want to lose her position in the Quidditch team—so she goes to the practice sessions, anyway, even if it's at the cost of her sleep.

That—coupled with her prefect duties and schoolwork��is wearing her out. So far she has managed to miraculously plow through, but when that time of the month comes and she can barely even bring herself to get out of bed, [Y/N] begins to wonder whether giving up would be a better option.

She could do it. Drop everything and lay in bed all day for the next week or so with a bag of chocolates at her side and pillows cushioning her entire body.

She could—technically, anything in the world is possible—but she shouldn’t, because she has obligations. Prefect tasks; patrolling the corridors and making sure no first-years go astray in the Forbidden Forest (it already happened once—she's not going to let it happen again), N.E.W.T. revisions, homework, Quidditch practice, homework, and then even more homework—

The very moment she wakes up and feels the pain in her lower abdomen, she knows she is done for. She only barely drags herself out of bed and trudges to her classes the entire day feeling like pure and utter dung. Her entire body is sore and her entire mood cranky, but that hardly matters because she has homework to do. And classes to go to. And Quidditch practice and patrolling and studying and Merlin-knows-what-else.

The sourness of her mood doesn't go amiss by any of her friends, and certainly not by her boyfriend, Fred Weasley, who automatically just knows when something is out of the ordinary with her. And while her friends decide to leave her alone after noting her less than pleasant mood, Fred does quite the opposite.

Which is, of course, no different from what he does everyday: stick by her side like glue. And while they'd been best friends for a while, it's only been a few months since Fred finally sucked up the courage to ask her out. So naturally Fred has very little experience with, ah, women’s dilemmas.

To put it simply, he doesn't know how to deal with a girl on her bloody (no pun intended) period. For the love of Merlin, he can't even tell.

So he's a little surprised and his feelings are a teeny bit hurt when he nudges her in the middle of Charms class and whispers, "Was that an earthquake? Or did you just rock my world?" only for her to shake her head without even as much as looking at him.

And so Fred's thought process goes like this: he's done something terribly wrong. He doesn't know what, but he must have, and now he has to make up for it—whatever it is.

First, though, he has to figure out what.

—

It's midnight. [Y/N] doesn't know how on earth she managed to get through the entire day without passing out, but she did and now here she is in the nearly empty common room, sitting on the carpet in front of the fireplace with several sheets of parchment and open textbooks splayed out before her.

Jotting down History of Magic notes, her face is scrunched up in the utmost concentration. Fred watches her from where he's sitting on the couch, pouting a little.

"Don't you think you should be resting by now?" tries Fred, the concern in his voice audible as his gaze darts from her to her homework.

She doesn't respond. Fred sighs and gets up off the couch to sit down next to her on the ground. But even then, she doesn't look up from her homework, so Fred takes matters into his own hands and reaches out with his hand to gently cup her cheek, trying to tilt her head towards him.

"Not now, Fred.." she mutters, leaning away from him a little to keep writing. His hand hovers in mid-air, fingers now just barely brushing her face as she's moved away. "I have to.. finish this.."

Her tongue is poking out in concentration as she almost feverishly moves her quill over paper. Fred tries not to feel too dejected and lets her be, waiting until she's broken out of her trance enough to grab her attention again. In the meantime, he props his elbows on his knees, the pout on his lips very much evident as he watches her work. He still doesn't know why she's been acting so distant, and no matter how much he tries to mull things over in his brain, he still doesn't know why exactly she's angry at him. Or if she even is angry.

Was his pick-up line really that bad? Could it maybe be because he'd kept trying to play with her hair in potions class the other day? Or is it because of what he did last week, when he’d talked McGonagall’s ear off about how wonderful a girlfriend he had? Maybe Fred should've been a bit more considerate—[Y/N] has always been a teacher's pet, after all, and he knows that the teachers themselves were surprised when they found out that she was dating him, one-half of the devious Weasley twins who had six O.W.L.s combined..

[Y/N]'s hand stills, and for a moment Fred thinks she's finally finished her homework, but her shoulders have bowed a little and her eyes have closed. The effect this image has on Fred is instantaneous: the pout on his lips is replaced quickly by a fond smile as he lets out a quick breath of slightly dubious laughter and moves to gently tap her on the shoulder.

Slowly, slowly, her eyes blink open.

Another tiny laugh. "You fell asleep for a second there, love," says Fred softly, hand moving to touch her hair, and he's so bloody endeared by her it hurts. Voice a mere mumble like he’s afraid of speaking too loud, he says, "Reckon we should turn in for the night, yeah? You and me both."

There's silence as she exhales, leaning into his touch almost unconsciously as her eyes close and her shoulders slump. "I'm really tired," she tells him quietly, nose wrinkling a little as her mouth stretches open in a yawn. (Good grief, Fred's heart aches.) He scoots forward a little into her, gathering her into his lap where she almost automatically curls up, head on his shoulder and her lips just barely grazing the side of his neck.

Fred can't even remember what he'd been agonizing over just moments before. All his fluttering heart cares about at the moment is his sleepy girlfriend, who's shifting a little in his lap to get herself more comfortable, mumbling something inaudible in her half-asleep state. He has to physically suppress himself from throwing his head back and laughing out loud, because something about the situation he's in is making him feel oddly euphoric. He only has to think about if for a few moments before he realizes why: it's because of how adorable she's being. And Fred’s heart might be melting in his chest—should he be concerned?

"I'm gonna carry you up to your dorm, okay?" says Fred, tone just loud enough to make himself heard but quiet and soft enough so as to not jar her awake. He feels her nod a little against his shoulder. Carefully, he gets to his feet, one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back the way a groom would carry his bride. (The thought crosses Fred's head very briefly and just like that he's smiling goofily to himself.)

And the moment is romantic and intimate in a quiet, calming way, until Fred makes the big mistake of murmuring, "I'll fix up your homework and bring it to you so you can work on it tomorrow" and [Y/N] quite literally freezes in his arms. Her entire body goes rigid.

"Homework. Oh, crap." Fully awake now, she lifts her head off of his shoulder, looks back at her pile of homework still on the ground, and then, her panicked eyes meeting his, she says, "Oh, no. No. I can't—I've got to get it done now, Fred."

An incredulous sound tumbles past his lips. "I could've sworn you were asleep two seconds ago.”

She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut for a few seconds before peeling them open again. Fred notes that the bags under them look even more pronounced up close; something that has him frowning at her. “Put me down, please? I really have to get that essay done."

He huffs, shakes his head, and starts walking towards the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory. "What—" [Y/N] yelps, looking up at him with an expression that suggests he’s admitted to strangling a rabbit. "Fred, I said put me down—"

"And let you work yourself to death? No can do, love." Fred looks down at her, lips pressed together in a sorry smile as he shakes his head. He lifts his gaze back away from her as he begins climbing up the steps, trying not to jostle [Y/N] too much in his arms. His tone sing-song, he says, “You need to rest. The essay can wait."

[Y/N] opens her mouth to predictably retaliate, but Fred stops halfway up the staircase and presses a kiss to her lips, effectively cutting her off. At first she’s stiff, but it only takes her a few seconds to relax and melt into him.

When Fred pulls away with one last peck to the lips, he smiles down at her, eyes twinkling. “Have I changed your mind with my superior snogging skills?”

Unable to help herself, she lets out an exasperated laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. But even then her gaze lingers on her homework, still on the floor in front of the fireplace—totally not yet finished—

“But I’ve only got a few pages left to go,” she says in one last stroke of adamancy.

”And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you stay up all night without getting enough sleep?” They’ve reached the top of the staircase now, and Fred is fumbling with the doorknob of her dorm room, trying to open it with one hand without having to set her down.

“But Freddy.”

Fred pauses trying to open the door, lips unconsciously twitching up into an incredulous grin as he raises his eyebrows at her. Of course she had to use his one big weakness against him—he loves when she calls him Freddy. Or perhaps love is a severe understatement, because he always goes all putty in her hands whenever she sings it into his ear or shouts it at him from all the way across the hallways.

But Fred isn’t having it, not this time. “But [Y/N],” he mimics her tone, still grinning, and the voice in his heart tells him to peck her lips again, so he does. “I'm telling you, love, you need sleep. And besides, we’re already here—once I get this door open—aha!”

The door clicks open and reveals behind it the dark seventh year girls’ dorm room. Fred peers inside, unsure as he steps a single hesitant foot through the door, and then he withdraws back into the landing. “Suppose I'll have to drop you off here,” tuts Fred. “Can’t really barge into an all-girls dorm room in the middle of the night—even when I’m with you. Mum would have my head.” Gingerly, he sets her down on the ground, making sure she’s standing up completely before he takes his hands away. Grinning, he holds his palm out towards her and says, “That’ll be twenty galleons.”

”I didn’t even ask for—“

“A kiss, then.”

And her incomplete homework is still lingering in her head, bothering her—she really does need to have that done at least before breakfast tomorrow—but Fred is standing in front of her with the same playful smile that [Y/N] has never learned to resist so she sighs and stands on her tip-toes, places her hand on the back of his neck, and pulls him in for a kiss.

Fred is smiling—she can feel it against her lips. Eventually she starts smiling too, unable to help herself. When she pulls away, Fred cups her cheeks in his hand and pecks her forehead—and then her nose, and her cheeks, and her eyelids, and then she’s laughing, saying, “What are you doing?”

Fred lands another kiss to the tip of her nose, then drops his hands back to his sides. “You look far too lovely for someone in dire need of sleep.”

At the mention of sleep, a yawn tears its way out of her throat. Fred has to restrain himself from doubling over and sobbing because Merlin’s beard was that adorable.

”Fine,” [Y/N] says through yet another yawn, hand coming up to rub at her eyes. “Fine. Maybe I am tired.”

Fred gasps far too dramatically. “Who ever could have guessed?”

[Y/N] may be sleepy, but she still has enough strength within her to reach out and shove him lightly by the shoulder. Fred is as theatrical as always; he clutches the spot where she’d touched him as though he’s been fatally wounded.

She rolls her eyes, smiling. Another yawn. Fred drops his act and shoves his hands into his pockets, expression somber as he looks at her, eyes dancing over her own tired ones. “Go get some sleep, alright?”

She purses her lips, shoulders slumping in defeat as she nods. “Okay. Suppose I’ll just try to finish it as fast as I can tomorrow.” And then, voice going soft, she says, “Thanks, Fred.”

Fred is so goddamned endeared.

“And. Um.”

”Yes?”

“Sorry about being so bloody cranky. I'm—“ she pauses, eyes darting away for a moment as she gestures wildly to nothing in particular.

Fred raises his eyebrows.

“On my period,” she mutters. “Have I made it awkward? I'm sorry. I just didn’t want you to think you’d done something wrong for me to be acting.. you know.”

Fred’s brows have risen so far up his forehead he’s surprised they haven’t disappeared into his hair. His mouth has fallen open a little in surprise; whatever he’d been expecting her to say, it certainly hadn’t been that. But part of him is relieved at the knowledge that he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting like someone pissed in your tea,” says Fred teasingly. She rolls her eyes again—another yawn; the largest one so far, actually. He can’t help the fond laugh that tears its way out of his heart and past his lips. Reaching out, he places a hand on the back of her head and kisses her forehead. “Sweet dreams, love.”

She wraps her arms around his middle and nods into his chest, and Fred’s heart melts. “You too, Freddy.”

—

The next morning, [Y/N] wakes up to a mysteriously completed set of History of Magic homework and a bag of Honeydukes' chocolates on her bedside table.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter oneshots #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #fred weasley #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley oneshots #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #weasley twins

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unbridgeabledistances · 4 years ago

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ok i have an inbox full of prompts, but i was making valentine’s day plans & all of a sudden felt very inspired to write some valentine’s day gallavich! featuring uncle mickey, homemade cards and a lot of domestic fluff- i’ll probs have a part two up sometime this week!<3

It was a lazy, slow-paced Sunday afternoon at the Gallagher house. Mickey had been lying on the couch passively watching trashy reality TV for god knows how long—and apparently at some point he’d fallen asleep, because now the TV volume was just a low hum, and he was being woken up to the startling crash of the kitchen back door slamming shut, and the rustling of shoes and coats being taken off and discarded by the front door.

“Alright Franny, let’s set this stuff up on the kitchen table.” Mickey heard Ian’s voice sail across the room, his eyes still closed to block out the cheery sunshine teeming in the living room.

Mickey tried to doze off again, attempting to block out the bright light infiltrating his eyelids, but it was no use— whatever Ian and Franny were doing, murmuring and clanging in the kitchen, there was no way for Mickey to escape the sound now and drift back into his sunwarmed sleep. He begrudgingly shoved the scratchy crocheted blanket off of his lap, stretching as he rose and stumbled into the kitchen.

He wasn’t expecting the carnage that he saw when he turned the corner; the kitchen table was covered in an explosion of sheets of multicolored construction paper, all reds and pinks and whites, with tiny multicolored stickers and tubes of glitter and shiny ribbons arranged and spread wide across the countertop, scattered with glue sticks and pairs of scissors and an exploded box of crayons. There was a small mountain of cut-out hearts piled high on the table, smattered with glitter-glue and blocky handwriting.

Mickey rubbed his eyes, taking in the scene. “What’re you two Picassos up to?” he asked drowsily.

Ian looked up, his eyes light. “Look who’s awake!” He gestured at the table emphatically, like it was Christmas morning. “Isn’t it great? Me and Franny grabbed all this stuff at the dollar store for less than ten bucks. The glue sticks definitely kind of suck, but I think it’ll get the job done.”

Mickeys eyes scanned to Franny, who was hard at work trying to cut a shape out of a piece of red construction paper, her brows furrowed in concentration. Ian kept chattering on as he unwrapped another sheath of the paper.

“Debbie left Franny with me since some rich lady called her with a weekend handywoman emergency that popped up at the last minute, so now I’m helping Franny make her valentines for school.”

Mickey scoffed. “Fucking valentines?”

Ian rolled his eyes as he contentedly started to glue together two pieces of paper. “Yes, Mickey, valentines. You know, those nice things that normal people give to each other on Valentine’s Day, along with a box of chocolates or some shit and a note about how much they love each other—”

“Yes, I know what they are, smartass. Don’t know why you didn’t just buy the little cardboard ones at the store though.”

Ian smirked, his eyes still focused on the paper beneath him that he was smudging glitter on. “Yeah, well. Franny wanted to make them, and I thought it’d be kind of fun.”

Just then Franny gasped triumphantly, raising a lopsided and crumpled paper heart up for Mickey to see. “Look, Uncle Mickey! I cut a heart! Uncle Ian showed me how!”

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, who had a sheepish look on his face. “Didn’t know you had so many hidden talents, Gallagher.”

Ian flashed a grin. “I used to be really into art class in elementary school, what can I say.”

Franny looked up at Mickey with wide eyes. “Do you want to make valentines with us? We have to make twenty-seven, because that’s the number of people in my class.”

Mickey faltered. Sitting here gluing fucking glitter to pieces of paper was not exactly what he’d had in mind as his plans for the weekend…

“Uh. That’s okay kiddo. I think you two’ve got it covered.”

Franny seemed to readily accept Mickey’s answer, instantly looking downward again and grabbing a fistful of crayons from the table to continue enhancing her masterpiece. Ian, on the other hand, tore his gaze from his own valentine.

“Oh c’mon Mick, you don’t wanna help?” Ian asked, his voice goading and his eyebrows raised.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks but no thanks.” He turned, walking over to open the fridge and grabbing a beer from the top shelf.

“C’mon, just one valentine. Franny can show you how to cut out a heart shape, right Fran?”

Franny nodded vigorously. “Yes, I know how!”

Mickey took a swig of his beer and sighed. “Jesus, fine.” He pulled a chair between Ian and Franny, slowly scraping it on the linoleum, and then perched on the edge uncomfortably. “Alright Franny, show me what you’ve got.”

“Okay, so the first thing that you have to do is pick which color is your favorite. What’s your favorite color?”

Mickey had taken another sip of his beer, and now he sputtered slightly. “I don’t know Franny, you pick for me.”

Franny’s face melted into a pout. “But you have to pick, Uncle Mickey, it’s your favorite color!”

Ian bit back a laugh, his eyes still bright and cheerful. “Yeah, Mick, c’mon. What is your favorite color? We’ve never gotten this deep in our relationship before.”

Mickey gulped again from his beer can and flipped Ian off in the process. “I don’t fucking know. Never thought about it before.”

Franny held the stack of construction paper up to Mickey. “Look! There’s red, and yellow, and blue, and purple, and green—”

Mickey cut her off. “Uh, give me a green one.”

Ian smirked. “Green?”

“Fuck you, it was the first color I thought of.” Of course, that wasn’t really true—if Mickey needed to have a favorite fucking color, it was obviously going to be green, like the green eyes that met his gaze every morning and were the last thing he saw before he went to sleep at night— even if he would never be caught dead admitting that sappy bullshit to Ian.

Ian looked like he was holding back a smile. “Right,” he mused. “Hey, Franny, pass me a blue paper? Cause y’know, that’s my favorite color.”

Mickey gently shoved Ian in the square of his chest. “You’re being fucking soft.”

Ian let a crooked smile burst onto his face. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Mickey leaned back in his chair, holding the piece of thick green paper in front of him appraisingly. “Okay Franny, what’s step two?”

Franny stretched her body across the table to reach for one of the strewn pairs of scissors. “Now, you fold the paper in half, and then you cut out the shape of half of a heart, like this.” She drew an example of the curved pattern on the backside of Mickey’s paper with the tip of her finger. “And then you unfold it and it’ll be a perfect shape!”

“Sounds easy enough.”

Mickey took the scissors from Franny’s grasp, and held them up to the paper. It was just a fucking half circle with a little indent at the top— this wasn’t going to be too difficult. Ian and Franny went back to being absorbed in crafting their valentines, while Mickey started to botch and slash at his piece of construction paper.

When he was finally satisfied he unfolded the shape, the outer shell of the paper falling away. It was… well, it was kind of a heart, with two slanted sides and a wonky top half. It looked more like a blob attached to an angle than anything else.

Ian looked up from where he was doodling on a glittery heart and snickered.

“That’s uh… that’s a good first try, Mick.”

Mickey slammed the piece of paper down onto the table. Fucking arts and crafts, he was never good at this shit even when he was little—he fingers were always too fumbling, too clumsy for him to make anything delicate and pristine. Ian’s hands should have been as ungainly as his, but instead they were quick and nimble, smoothly cutting perfectly-rounded circles and gluing neat lines of glitter.

Franny noticed that Mickey was done cutting his shape. “Good job Uncle Mickey! Now you just have to draw on it, and put on stickers and glitter.”

“Yeah Mickey, let’s see those artistic skills.”

Mickey aggressively flicked some flecks of glitter from the table in Ian’s direction, then picked up a crayon and gripped it with an iron fist. What the fuck was he supposed to draw? This was a valentine for kids at Franny’s school, the fuck did kids like anyways? He started to draw some sort of stick figure, but the arms were too long and the head was too small, so he tried to color over it and make some sort of tree or some shit…

As Mickey scratched at the paper, he looked over at noticed suddenly how content Ian looked—how blissed out and settled he was, just running a crayon over the colorful paper and shaking bits of glitter onto pools of glue. If Mickey was being honest, he hadn’t seen Ian this light and happy in a while; he’d had a hunch in his shoulders for months after the wedding and the pandemic and all the minimum-wage job bullshit, the shadows of expectation hanging over him and causing a deflated weariness in his gaze that was impossible to ignore. But right now, Ian looked like he was having as much fun as Franny was, practically vibrating with satisfaction as he put the finishing touches on his drawing and reaching to place his completed valentine in the growing pile.

Mickey snatched the paper out of Ian’s hand, slightly crumpling it around the edges. “Wait a second. How the fuck did you do that?”

The valentine was immaculate, the heart symmetrical and traced in a thin outline of glitter. In the center of the paper there was a perfect little cartoon of a dog in a top hat, with an air bubble that read “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Ian shrugged. “Watched a lot of cartoons when I was little. And I’ve always kind of liked to draw.”

Mickey shoved the valentine back in front of Ian. Goddamn perfect fucking husband who’s good at fucking everything. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, suddenly losing all motivation to play along.

Ian smirked, then reached to rest a hand on the back of Mickey’s neck. “Giving up already?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, Gallagher.”

Ian’s smile just widened. “Here, how about I cut the fucking shapes and you glue stuff onto them. That’d still help me and Franny a lot, right?”

Franny nodded. “It’s okay Uncle Mickey, I was bad at cutting the shapes too at first.”

Mickey huffed. Okay, so maybe he was horrible at this shit, but the least he could do was suck it up for Franny’s sake. “Fine,” he muttered, and grabbed a glue stick and a bottle of glitter.

A few minutes passed and they settled into a comfortable silence, enveloped in the sound of the scissors gliding and Franny scribbling on paper.

Suddenly, Franny looked up as Mickey reached across the table to grab a pad of stickers.

“Hey Uncle Mickey, what do you and Uncle Ian do for Valentine’s Day?”

Mickey didn’t really know how to answer that question— he darted a glance over at Ian, trying to signal as much. Could you ruin the spirit of Valentine’s Day for kids in the same way you could fuck up Christmas? “Uh, nothing really.”

Ian chimed in. “We used to like Valentine’s Day when we were little like you Franny, but now that we’re big we don’t really celebrate it. Right Mick?”

“Yup.”

Franny’s brows were furrowed again, this time in contemplation. “But. You love each other, right?”

“Sure, Franny. But we don’t need a special day for us to remember that,” Ian explained.

Franny seemed appeased enough by that answer to resume her drawing. “You don’t give each other valentines or candy or anything?”

Mickey almost laughed. Of course he and Ian had never celebrated fucking Valentine’s Day; if he was being honest, he didn’t remember even really thinking about Valentine’s Day before now, other than it being a day when Mandy came home crying in middle school because the boy she liked didn’t ask her out, or buying all the half-priced chocolates in red and pink wrappers at the drugstore a week later with his brothers. With all the shit in his life the past few years, frilly fucking holidays like Valentine’s Day were just… not on Mickey’s radar.

But maybe— maybe this year was different. This year, for maybe the first time in his life, Mickey felt secure and steady in a way that he never had before, like the ground was solid beneath him and wasn’t going to cave in at any minute. He had a fucking husband that he loved—why couldn’t they celebrate Valentine’s Day like a normal goddamn couple? Ian didn’t seem to be too bothered that they both didn’t give a fuck about the holiday, which was all the more reason to catch him off guard. He kept pressing stickers down onto the construction paper, his mind starting to churn.

By the time they’d made the twenty-seven fucking valentines, Mickey had made up his mind; this year, he and Ian were going to celebrate Valentine’s Day.

part two here!

#my bbys definitely do not seem the type to celebrate valentines day #but i had to make them try lol #lmk if u are interested in a part two!#gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #ian and mickey

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factual-fantasy · 4 years ago

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Got 20 more asks, with some art this time! :}

Thank you! I’m very glad you like the way I draw them!

As to how I draw their glasses or any tips I have.. I just draw them exactly the way the show draws them, except they’re more square than rectangle.

Some tips?

Eyebrows go over the glasses, always. The little line coming down in the center of the glasses touches where the eyes connect. The bottom of the lenses go right about to the middle of the nose. Don’t make them too big, leave room for the eyebrows and the forehead. Make sure the glasses peek over the edge of the face, but don’t make them too wide, leave room for the sideburns and skin by the glasses arms. The glasses arms go right above where the ear connects to the head.

I would suggest looking up some references, from both the show and from other artists. My way of drawing glasses aren't perfect, but clearly they’re decent because you wanted to know how I draw them XD

Just do some research, look up some screen shots and try to redraw them. Heck, even trace them. Eventually you’ll find a way of drawing them that you like, like I did. :}

Oh! Thank you!.. But uh.. polite pass. I don’t drink coffee.. ●﹏●;

Thank you, for everything you’ve said.

I don’t think I’m okay anymore. I’ve been trying so hard to get my old self back, but its just not working. My energy, my motivation, my smile, everything, its just all gone. I’m so overwhelmed with all this doubt and uncertainty that I just don’t now how to function anymore.

Drawing is the only thing in my life I work towards and care about, and I am not exaggerating. But I’m loosing it. I don’t know how to do it anymore. I feel like pieces of my brain are slowly rotting away or something. I just fell awful and escaping to my little imaginary world isn’t working anymore.

Its like all the life is just getting sucked out of me. Although my new job is helping, I don't know if that’s going to be the cure. Peoples opinion of me weighs down so heavily on my shoulders that I hide my true self away in shame. I’m so afraid of being hated or upsetting anyone that you don't even know my real name.

I don't know what to do anymore. My memory is certainly getting worse and I have absolutely no drive to do anything other than drawing what so ever, and even THAT is starting to fail. I must be broken, like a shattered mirror, but I’m missing some pieces and don't even have a way to glue them back together if I somehow find them again anyway, so why even bother looking for them?

I just don’t know what to do anymore. Getting this job better fix it.

Of course! ♡ඩᴗඩ♡

Except for Big Blue. He’s “that guy is huge and can literally kick me to the moon” sized.

My Decepticons? In my brain soup currently. I haven’t found the energy or the motivation to draw them yet.

In the story? They’re all aboard the nemesis as far as I have decided.

I actually don’t drink any hot beverages.. I don’t drink coffee, I’ve never had tea and hot chocolate makes my stomach queasy. I don’t even really drink milk. or sodas or anything else. I just drink water, only water. That’s enough for me.

As for the characters though? Well let me think... let me split it onto categories.

Tea drinkers:

Brown Suburban

Ranger

Coffee drinkers:

Honda

A.T.Dragster

Hot chocolate drinkers:

Jeepy

White Truck

Miata

Beluga

U.M.Dragster

Both tea and coffee drinkers:

Escort

Suburban

Vega

Volvo

Green Truck

All of the above:

Beluga

None of the above:

Red Van

Hot Apple cider vinegar:

Bash Buggy

The primary reason why Bash Buggy was freaking out is because he was just scooped up off the ground out of no where.

He’s basically legally blind, so he didn’t instantly go, “Oh this is fine its just Brown Suburban.” He just went

Not that I can remember.. But I have made some AUs and I made a little brown puppy a part of one of them, does that count?

I have never played any of them myself.. but I have watched others play them and I have always liked watching them freak out over FNAF 2.

I also like FNAF 2 because it has almost all of my favorite characters in it. :}

I believe Ratchet would’ve had to inject the Synthetic Energon into himself when Volvo wasn’t around, because Volvo certainly would’ve stopped him if he was there. Even if it meant wrestling Ratchet to the ground to get that stuff out of his hand.

But sadly, Ratchet would have been completely infected by the time Volvo would have been around. He would’ve probably found Ratchet on the floor when Raf was trying to wake him up.

At first he’d think that he was hurt, or had that same “heart attack” thing like Escort did. He would panic and try to wake him. Ratchet would stir and groan about them being so noisy or something. When Ratchet sits up and looks Volvo in the eyes is when he’d see it.

Volvo’s entire demeanor would change, and he’d just look devastated.

“Ratchet... y.. you didn’t...“ Raf would look up and ask, “Didn’t.. what?”

Volvo would be so overwhelmed with the realization of what Ratchet had done, that he couldn’t even really respond to Raf.

I cant remember the episode very well.. but I believe as the episode progressed, Volvo would be constantly following Ratchet around. He knows that this stuff very dangerous because its incomplete, but he doesn’t know what its going to do to Ratchet.

He would try to get Ratchet to chill out when ever he’s about to do something stupid, and would’ve been there to try and reason with him when he wanted to fight Bulkhead.

He would’ve been there when Optimus and the gang confronted them. Ratchet might’ve shot some nasty comment Volvo’s way and Volvo would’ve been hurt, but he also would’ve gotten a lot more worried about Ratchet too. Getting that nasty comment really just confirmed to Volvo that Ratchet’s lost it. The Synthetic Energon has taken over and he worries about what might happen next.

When he heard about Ratchet getting hurt and bleeding out, he freaked out of course. Him and the other medics would’ve patched him up and Volvo would watch over him. He’d hover around nearby and check his vitals more often than is necessary.

After Ratchet woke up and had that chat with Optimus that I think I remember him having.. I feel like he would make a point to find Volvo and talk to him about it.

Volvo may be a younger medic, but he’s still tough. Thing’s don’t get to him as easily.. well, not normally.

But when Ratchet first woke up? The look on Volvo’s face spoke volumes. The way Volvo acted out of character and practically became glued to Ratchet was concerning. He wasn't reacting to the situation in the way Ratchet believed he would.

When he asked, Volvo would respond with something along the lines of,

“When I saw the color of your optics, I knew exactly what you had done. And it.. it frightened me.“ Volvo would begin to look saddened.

“I didn’t know what was going to happen and I.. I just.. I didn’t know how to help you..“ Volvo would look hurt, and like a child honestly. This tough little medic was genuinely struggling to cope with the situation.

“I now realize that.. I didn’t truly understand just how dire our situation is.. “

Volvo would fiddle with his hands nervously for a second.

“I understand why you took that risk, but still it hurts to know that you felt the need to walk into something that dangerous for the slight chance it might make things a little better..“

Essentially, Volvo didn't really fully know just how bad their situation is. And seeing his friend risk his life like that really got the point across like a kick to the gut.

They’d talk it over and get through it at the end of the day, but now Volvo has a new perspective of this situation, and of Ratchet.

Glad to hear I’m not alone in this! :}

Despite its controversy and my personal saltiness towards certain aspects of this series, I overall genuinely really did enjoy watching the Bayverse movies. All of them.

The Bumblebee movie was fantastic, and I like Transformers: Prime. But that’s it, just those three. :/

Thank you for all the compliments!! :> I will do my best to keep these things up!.. Even though its becoming rather difficult..

Thank you! I worked very hard on it! ♡(இ﹏இ`｡)♡.

SPEAKING OF VEGAS DESIGN!!--

As I am writing this, all 16 transformer ocs are getting a make over. (mostly Jeepy) So keep and eye on this post! Because if someone wants to use them for references, the post could suddenly change and the old designs will be outdated!

Don’t be so shy! XD These asks are fun! :}

Now Bash Buggy.. he wouldn’t actually register what you just did if you kissed him on the cheek.

The protective plating on his face has been peeled back so if you kissed him on the cheek, you would sting him a little and you would get a little bit of Energon on your lips.

He’d wince and look at you like?? What was that?? He cant see the Energon on your lips so he wouldn’t put 2 and 2 together.

But if you told him that you just kissed him on the cheek, he’d then get so confused and flustered. Like, “I?? Wh-.. but-.. thanks?? Uh??”

#my response #transformers #transformers prime #transformer ocs

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mellifluoushood · 5 years ago

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Today, I Saw The Whole World, And It Was Right In Front Of Me - C.H.

Inspired by @ammwritings custom moodboard

A/N: So, I was inspired by Anne’s moodboard that she made for me about getting stoned with Calum and listening to records, so I thought I would write a fic about it. As always, let me know what you think and send requests if you have any! I’ll be finishing ships tonight. xx Genre: angst / fluff / smut Type: blurb / imagine / series Warning: heavy mentions of drug use (smoking weed), some sexual content (not sex, but very close) Word Count: 6k (I got so unbelievably carried away. I wish I could say I was sorry. But I’m not.) Taglist: @gigglyirwin @loveroflrh @ammwritings @calumscalm Playlist: Weed Music

Red eyes watch as she throws her head back, laughing at some meaningless joke thrown around the room. Her laugh echoes with others, bouncing off the painted white walls surrounding them. Her head swims back around when someone elbows her gently and hands her the joint. She smiles, bringing it to her lips and inhaling hard. She feels the toke sit in her mouth before filling her lungs with another breath. She holds it, gently opening her mouth and allowing the smoke to spill out of her mouth. She sits, shivering slightly, focusing on the joint and sparing a glance around the room.

Her friends sit, smiling amongst their newly formed conversations. She watches languidly, lazily repeating her motions a few more times before passing it to the person on her right. She feels her body begin to melt into the sofa underneath her, slowly relaxing. She can feel the way her muscles welcome the plush couch, the black, soft fabric brushing against her bare thighs and warming up her body even farther. Her mind eases into its far corner, letting the high slowly crawl its way into her system.

She hears the end of a conversation before starting a new one with Crystal, sitting to her left. She smiles and asks about her day, listening to the accent drip around her slowly. She watches as her friend talks with her hands, her thick American accent capturing her attention. She listens to the pronunciations and lilts in her tone. She sits and listens and listens.

The anxiety that had made a home in her shoulders slowly rests, her neck tilting to the right and letting out a satisfying crack. She repeats thoughtlessly with the other side, feeling the way that her body is responding to her high. Her toes begin to tingle lightly whilst the warmth bubbling in her chest spreads through her bloodstream, occupying the tips of her fingers and her lower tummy. She still concentrates on her friend, responding only when needed.

She hears the start of a song, another one of her friends, Ashton, connecting his phone to her Bluetooth speaker that had fallen silent a few moments before, letting the song play out. Her focus turns to the music when her friend receives another joint and stops talking. She can feel her head tilting back against the cushion behind her head, resting as her blood pumps at its own pace. She soaks it in.

Her eyes switch between the people in front of her, observing mannerisms in the way they sit and express themselves that she was always aware of when sober, but particularly aware of as she sits high.

“You okay over there?” Ashton asks her and she chuckles at his question.

“I’m fine,” her voice is smooth, low and raspy from the smoke that had been brushing her airways a few moments before then. The friend on her left passes her the joint and she smiles at her with thanks, “Do you guys know how much I smoke?”

Ashton shakes his head and she looks over at Calum, “Have you not told them?”

“No,” Calum shrugs from her right side, “Didn’t want to air your dirty laundry.”

“Dirty laundry, my arse,” she chuckles again. Her motions are languid as she brings the roach to her mouth, over and over, sucking down the smoke with ease, “I’m not ashamed. I mean, c’mon, I wear marijuana socks and post pictures and videos to my private story.”

“Guess we’re not on your private story then,” Michael jokes and she rolls her eyes at him.

“Didn’t think you wanted to see what a pothead I am,” she comments before passing her joint to Calum. She slowly stands up from her spot on the couch, stretching slightly, her long sleeve shirt riding up, exposing her belly button piercing and tattoo on her left hip. She leisures over to her purse sitting on the dining room table in the other room, rustling through to find her bag, tobacco, grinder and papers. She returns to her spot on the couch, opening her bag and lifting it to her nose. She inhales, noting the strong hints of pineapple and she smiles,

“God, I love my dealer,” she shakes her head, taking another puff before picking out a few nuggets and placing them in the grinder. The boys and their girlfriends watch with intrigue, surprised at her mannerisms.

“I feel like I’m really getting to know you right now,” Ashton mutters, looking at a girl he didn’t expect to be such an avid smoker, rolling a joint like a professional. She looks up at him and shakes her head with a small smile, grinding the weed down to small pieces. She puts the grinder on the living room table before taking a paper out of its packet and a piece of cardboard from the same packet, rolling the cardboard to form a roach. She places it in the paper on the far left side. She opens the pack of tobacco sitting in her lap and begins to sprinkle strands along the paper.

“You use tobacco?” Luke asks.

“Yeah. It helps it burn better and slower. It also makes the high go straight to your brain. You Americans don’t know how to smoke,” she chuckles, “Blunts without tobacco or a roach. A disgrace,” she criticises and Ashton’s eyebrows raise, realising that she’s much more experienced than any of them would have guessed. Calum sits to her right, watching her hands move for the grinder and fill the paper with the weed. She sprinkles a fair amount before beginning to smooth it down by rubbing the ends of the paper together. He watches as she tucks the edge into the joint, rolling the paper over itself until it formed a cylindrical cone. He swallows slightly, the own high seeping through every centimetre of his brain when her tongue pokes past her lips licking the adhesive of the paper and secures the glue against the joint. She smooths it out, running her fingers up and down, making Calum look away before a tent formed in his sweats at the thought of her fingers elsewhere.

She taps the bottom of the joint against the hardwood surface of the table before taking the base of a pen and packing the weed firmly. She sticks the joint in her mouth and lights it up when she’s finished. She sparks the paper and it burns quickly, the emptiness allowing the flame to consume it before it hits the packed weed and tobacco. She inhales then, taking three tokes straight off the bat. She lets the smoke linger out of her mouth before she sucks it in through her nose, exhaling again after.

“Also, you don’t puff-puff pass. You take your time, you enjoy yourself. You end up with the same amount of weed in your system, but you’re not in a rush and you enjoy smoking,” she comments, smiling around the roach in her mouth, pinching the spliff in between her thumb and forefinger. She takes a strong toke, letting it sit her lungs for a few moments, taking the joint from her lips and admiring her handiwork, “God, this is some good green. Pineapple express. It tastes so good,” she brings the joint back to her lips.

“How often do you smoke?” Luke asks the question on everyone’s mind. She thinks to herself, sitting back against the couch again after grabbing the ashtray off the table and resting it on her knees that she’s resting against her chest.

“I smoke every day. I have at least one joint... bare minimum. But, usually, I smoke about 2 or 3... if I meet up with my other group of friends,” she inhales again, “I can smoke upwards of 5 or 6.”

“Jesus Christ,” Michael mutters as she takes her last toke and hands it over to Calum.

“Don’t rush, enjoy it. Feel the music, feel the buzz,” she comments. Calum takes her advice, reclining just like she was and balances the joint in between his forefinger and middle finger like a cigarette. He inhales, admiring the taste of the green she had gotten from her dealer. He exhales, tasting the fruity, light aftertaste that lingers along his tongue and on his inner cheeks. He likes the heaviness of tobacco in the joint.

He throws his free arm around the girl to his left, pulling her to him. She rolls her eyes playfully, the high staining the whites of her eyes a deep red, her irises glassy. Calum’s own reflect similarly. When he looks down at her, she notices he’s a bit more stoned than her, his tolerance not quite as high. His pupils have dilated slightly and his body feels especially warm. She tucks her shoulder underneath his and leans her head on his chest. The people around the circle watch with a knowing smile at their affections. Not quite a couple, but not quite just good friends.

“Where’d you get this stuff?” Calum asks, exhaling the second toke he had taken. She shrugs,

“My dealer usually has a couple of different strains to choose from. If I bat my eyelashes at him, he usually will give me the best of the three and for less than what he charges other people.” Calum chuckles at her antics, ignoring the small twinge of jealousy that bubbles in the bottom of his stomach. He doesn’t want to picture the girl cuddled up to his chest fluttering her eyelashes at another man, a coy smile playing on her lips as she charms her way into good quality weed. He reasons with himself that he’d probably do the same if he was a girl.

“How often do you pick up?” Luke asks, watching Calum take his slow drags before passing it to him. Luke nods in gratitude before taking a drag himself and rolls the smoke around in his mouth before inhaling further and holding it. He exhales out of his nose, jutting out his bottom lip and raising his eyebrows, looking at the joint in his fingers, “This is some good shit.”

“Right?” She chuckles before paying attention to the question he had asked before, “Once or twice a week. Depends who I’m with that week and how much I charm him when I pick up.” Her eyes are hazy, looking around the circle at the boys and their girlfriends. Sierra’s legs are resting over Luke’s lap as she sits in between him and Ashton, Ashton’s back is pressed against the television stand and Michael and Crystal are cuddled up to his left. She notes Ashton didn’t bring his girl around and she makes a mental note to ask him about it later. He doesn’t seem to mind the couples around him, as the conversations tend to be open to everyone.

The joint gets passed around to everyone, reaching the owner. She takes another few drags before putting it out and rolling another one with the green left in the grinder. Conversations around her have bubbled up, gently humming over the distant lull of music in the background. She feels how relaxed the muscles in her cheeks are and the heaviness of her eyelids, but she basks in the relaxation and sensation the THC gives her.

Calum watches every single move she makes with hazy eyes and a small smirk on his face. His arm rests on the back of the sofa as he reclines into the cushions, spreading his legs covered in grey sweatpants. He kicks his feet up onto the living room table, his black socks matching the black tabletop. He pulls his hood up, over his platinum blond hair, the black hoodie blending in with the black cushions of the sofa. His eyes linger along the smooth skin of her bare arms, her breasts peeking out from the top of her tank top. Her legs are covered at the very top with shorts, black with white lining. Her socks have marijuana leaves on them as the hems tickle her upper calves. She looks relaxed. Her hair is down, cascading along her back and over her left shoulder.

He wants to push the admiration out of his mind, afraid of the rejection he was sure he would receive. He had heard her complain about a boy earlier to Sierra when she and Luke had arrived. He had peered around the corner of the kitchen entryway, her elbow against the kitchen counter and her face buried in her palm as she complained at his mixed signals and inability to not flirt with her, even after being rejected. He remembers the words she ended the conversation with: If only he would actually do something. He assumes there was a second guy involved, as she had explained to Sierra that she didn’t want to be with the mixed-signals guy. Sierra just chuckled and ran her hands through her hair to comfort her, who just sighed, I’m sure he’ll figure it out soon. He watched as she rolled her eyes, shaking her head, As fucking if. He remembers the feeling of his chest burning at her admission of having her eyes on a guy that wasn’t him. But, he pushed it away, focusing on the fact her right thigh was pressed tightly against his left.

When she finishes rolling her joint, she returns to her spot underneath Calum’s arm, relaxing against the couch and sparking the other joint. She bobs her head to the music in the background, closing her eyes and inhaling again and again and again. He’s addicted to watching her. He doesn’t try and hide the fact that he’s admiring every piece of her and every way she moves. When he looks away, he makes eye contact with Sierra, who had been watching the scene in front of her. Sierra sends him a nod, encouraging him. He shakes his head before turning his attention back to the woman underneath his arm.

Crystal and Michael strike up a conversation with Ashton when he sees Sierra lean over to whisper in Luke’s ear out of the corner of his eye. She says something to him and nods over to her. Luke’s eyes seem to make a connection with what she was talking about before he stands up and grabs his girlfriend’s hand,

“I think Sierra and I are gonna head up to bed,” he motions to the stairs that lead up to the guest rooms upstairs.

“Alright,” she smiles, “Night, babes,” she calls Sierra, her nickname for Sierra and her only. Sierra manoeuvres around the table to hug the girl on the couch. When Sierra leans down for a hug, admiring the blissed expression on her friend’s face, Calum watches as her lips move against her ear, unable to hear what she was saying to the woman under his arm. Calum turns his attention to Luke, who has a smirk resting on his lips as he quirks his eyebrows at him. Luke’s eyes are hazy, blurred with glassiness from the several joints passed around by numerous people. Calum slowly rolls his eyes and turns back to look at the woman next to him. Her attention is already on him as she hands him the second joint she had rolled, her own eyes complete glazed over as she looks at him. He smiles down at her, shaking his head and blowing air out of his nose as his way of laughing.

He listens as Sierra and Luke’s feet pad up the stairs and into the guest room they frequently stay in. Crystal follows Sierra’s actions from earlier, whispering something to both Ashton and Michael who don’t even question her. They repeat Luke and Sierra’s motions, sending Calum a look suggesting that he really should just make a fucking move. He has to resist the temptation of audibly telling them to ‘fuck off’, but he knows it would attract unnecessary attention from the girl next to him.

Once they’re alone after the last three have said their goodnights, Calum passes the joint back to the woman next to him. She hasn’t moved from her spot underneath his arm and he enjoys her proximity. He can smell the weed on her lips and the mix of her lavender shampoo. Her skin is tinted with a woodsy, pine smile, a musky perfume lingering on her pulse points as she rests her head even more on his chest. He smiles to himself, leaning his head against the back of the sofa and listening to the music on the speaker before Ashton cuts it off.

“Ah, fuck,” she mutters, sitting up, removing the warmth of her skin from his. Part of her is relieved she’s no longer touching Calum, but she feels the way his thigh burns against hers. Her heart feels like it’s about to beat out her chest, the small tingles he shoots up her spine sending her chest into an electric shock. She bites at her lip, her eyesight slightly blurry as she fumbles for her phone on the table. She switches on her own, smooth playlist and leaves the volume low enough that they can talk, but loud enough for it to not be awkward if they don’t.

She leans back again, not as close to Calum, afraid her heart might burst at the same proximity again, but Calum doesn’t seem to appreciate it. He pulls her to him again, murmuring, “Trying to run away from me, honey?”

Her breath wants to hitch, but she doesn’t let it. She simply rolls her neck from side to side, letting out a satisfying crack and settling into his frame. She inhales from her joint, just so she can exhale the nerves crawling up her neck and into her dry mouth, “No, just trying to be comfortable,” she hums. He can hear the teasing in her voice and he bites the inside of his lip, trying to keep himself in check because he’s not sure he can handle not saying anything or the rejection he’s positive will come after.

“Oh, am I not comfortable?” He teases in return and she turns her head up to look at him. Her lips are parted as she takes drag after drag from her joint, absentmindedly letting the smoke spill from the gap. He watches the trail of smoke fall from her cheeks and the way her eyes scan his face. She mentally memorises the place of his three birthmarks on his cheeks. She traces the five o’clock shadow along his jaw with her eyes and admires the slope of his nose. She notices the way his skin glows in the low light of the living room lamp. His platinum hair peeks out from underneath the hood of his jumper and her eyes trail down to his neck.

“You’re too comfortable,” she admits breathlessly, trying to hide the desperation in her voice. She quickly takes another drag off her joint, trying to cover up the tone of her voice. Calum doesn’t miss it, but he wonders if he imagines it when she passes the joint to him to finish. He takes it from her,

“Thank you, gorgeous.” He swallows once he finishes his sentence, bringing the joint to his lips, annoyed his filter failed him. He knows his guard falls when he’s stoned, but he didn’t expect it to fall around her. He hopes silently she won’t bring it up. But, he wasn’t that lucky,

“Gorgeous, huh?” She chuckles, looking up at him. He looks down at her, the plumpness of her cheeks and the glaze in her eyes. He traces the slope of her nose and curvature of her lips thoughtlessly, his pupils dilating at what they’re admiring. The weed lowers his inhibitions and he decides to just bite the bullet. If it goes badly, he can blame it on the green.

“You heard me,” he raises his eyebrows.

“I did?” She smiles lazily, sitting up a bit, turning to look at him. She’s scanning his body language, a languid movement of her eyes to see if she’s reading him right. If he wants what she wants. If he wants to pull her into his lap and have his way with her. He nods, taking the few last tokes in one go before leaning forward and putting the joint out in the ashtray. He surprises himself by grabbing the curves of her hips and pulling her into his lap. She rests her ass against his thighs, hers capturing his sides in between them. She bites at her lip and quirks her eyebrows,

“Whatcha doing there?” She teases, moving her hands up his chest and to the back of his neck, using the back of her hands to push the hood off his head. She exposes his platinum, glistening blond hair to the glow of the living room lamp. Her eyes admire the sides of his hair growing out, his roots a deep brown colour, contrasting against the bleached tips.

“Getting a better look,” he says thoughtlessly. Any inhibitions he had disappeared, the weed burying them deep in a part of his brain he can’t access in his high. He’s admiring the way she fits against his body. He runs his hands up and down the dip of her waist and the plumpness of her thighs.

“Didn’t think it was as good as a view as mine,” she responds, leaning forward slightly. Her hands began to brush along the back of his neck, her bare skin against his making Calum shiver.

“Oh, honey,” he chuckles, “Today, I saw the whole world. And it was right in front of me.”

She bites at her bottom lip to keep from her smile widening, but he watches as the corner of her lips. It causes Calum’s lips to quirk into a smile as well. Her eyes are stained red, just like his. She uses the tip of her fingers to run up and down his spine before he sits up a little more. His hands find themselves resting on her upper thighs, his fingertips digging just slightly into the flesh.

She has no response and he knows she wants him to make the first move. He removes one hand from her thighs, using it to brush her hair behind her ear,

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, licking his bottom lip and looking down at her lips. She repeats his actions before he hears a small, breathless, ‘Yes’ escape her lips. He leans forward, his lips just brushing hers, barely pressed. She pushes hers against him, harder. His lips are hot against hers and her mouth tastes like weed and tobacco to him. There’s an underlying sweetness to her skin and he loves it. He uses his hand to grip the side of her face, pulling her even closer to him. He runs the hand on her thigh up to her lower back, pushing her even further into his chest.

Their lips pull apart for a moment before slotting against each other again, her hands running from his neck to his hair, threading their way through his strands. Her heart is pounding out of her chest and her limbs feel like they’re vibrating. Calum’s heart is soaring as high as he is, his hands desperate to hold her as close to him as possible, not willing to ever let her go. She leans further into him, pressing her lips against his over and over, her movements becoming more forceful as he exhales every piece of his consciousness into her. Her chest burns with happiness and Calum’s lips can’t help but smile against hers.

With their heads swimming, they press closer and closer, lips slotting over and over, Calum’s grip on her never letting up. He’s the first to lick his tongue along her bottom lip. She parts them, welcoming the heat of his tongue into her mouth. She presses her tongue along his, their lips meeting time and time again. Their breathing starts to become laboured, desperate for the air the other is releasing, their bodies pressed together. They feel so warm against the other, their feelings bubbling to the surface at finally having their release of emotion.

Her hands move from his hair to the bottom of his jumper, tugging at the hem. His hands move to hold hers for a moment before breaking apart, just a second, to tug the jumper over his head and throw it onto the couch next to them. They’re panting and she grabs his face in between her hands, desperate to have her lips touch his again. They slot their lips over and over, tongues lingering within each kiss, familiarising with the taste of the other. Calum uses his hands to run up the soft skin of her stomach underneath her shirt. She shivers at the gentleness of his touch, memorising the way her ribs heave with each desperate breath she takes against her lips. He grabs at the hem of her shirt, tugging the way she had. She breaks apart from him, allowing him to pull the tank top over her shoulders. When the shirt is discarded, Calum leans back slightly, admiring the way her breasts are pushed up by her royal blue bra.

His lips meet hers, once, and then twice, before moving down to her jaw, running his lips along the bone. She tilts her head back, feeling the way his hands have imprinted themselves into her lower back, her hair tickling the back of his hands. His large hands take up so much surface on her back, feeling his warm skin against hers. Her hands grip at Calum’s neck, her nails dig into his shoulders as his lips move lower and lower, along the expanse of her goosebump ridden neck. She sighs, his plush, swollen lips leaving small wet, open-mouthed kisses. She rolls her lips between her teeth, moving her head to the side, her red eyes opening to look at the man who’s gently kissing down her neck.

“Cal,” she sighs and she feels the way his lips curl up into a cheshire grin. At the base of her throat, he wraps his lips around her skin, gently pulling and sucking, licking over the area. She rolls her hips against his without thinking and a deep groan rumbles underneath his chest. She rolls her hips again, satisfying the burning erupting between her legs as she feels how firm he is. He groans again, sucking harder against her neck and her throat rasps out a whimper. Every single movement is heightened, intensified as her high lingers in her veins, alighting her nerves, allowing Calum’s touch to cause explosions in her blood.

His hands run up from their space along her back, over her ribs and to cup her breasts through her bra. She lets out a small moan as he gently applies pressure, testing just how far she wants him to go. After suckling against her neck, he removes his lips, moves them a little higher along her neck and suckling, nipping and licking again. He wants to see the way the blood raises to the surface, bruising and marking up her pretty neck. He’s never seen that before and god, he thinks she’ll look beautiful with his marks all over her. Calum’s heart and stomach flutter at her touch, her fingertips pressing into him, the way that her body responds to his touches. He’s doing this to her. He’s pleasing her.

“Oh,” she moans quietly when he suckles particularly hardly and Calum applies more pressure to her chest. His hands move from the cups of her bra to just underneath the band of it, to ask if he can.

“Please take it off, Calum,” she asks breathlessly. He complies, hands wandering to her back to unclasp the bra. The straps loosen on her shoulders and shrugs it off. Calum removes his lips from her neck and leans back, staring at the perkiness of her breasts. He runs his hands along the underside, watching the way they move with the movement of his hands.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, admiring their shape. Her nipples are hard, poking against his palms as he runs the full expanse of his hand over her breasts. She takes his distraction as a chance to plant her lips to his neck. He sighs through his nose as she traces her tongue, gently, from the base of his neck to the space where his jaw and neck meet. She traces his pulse point with the tip of her tongue before sinking her teeth gently into the flesh. A groan rumbles from between his lips and he can’t help but knead the tender flesh with his hands, trying to focus on the way her body reacts to his touch. She suckles along his pulse point, feeling the way his body radiates heat against her face. She leaves mark after mark, scattering them along the expanse of her neck as Calum leans back and lets her have her way with him.

When she pulls away, their chests are heaving, bare and glowing in the light of the living room. The music in the background switches and Calum’s lips find hers again. Their lips are tender, swollen and red with friction, slotting over and over again. Calum uses his hands to press her to him as close as possible, their bare chests touching. Her hands wander along his shoulders, up to his neck and his hair, down again and repeating her motions, slowly as their tongues brush again and again.

Their highs are pushed to the back of their minds as they bask in the feeling of their kisses, their touches, their movements. She rolls her hips against his again, his cock straining against his grey sweatpants. The firmness sends tingles up her spine as she rolls her hips over and over again. Calum’s hands move from her back and to her lips, guiding her against him as his eyebrows furrow together. Warmth spreads in his stomach at the friction and she breaks away from him, letting out sigh after sigh with each roll of her hips against him.

“Cal-” she whines quietly, pressing her forehead against his, bare chest heaving with each laboured breath, her eyes pressed shut. He watches her with butterflies in his stomach, violently fluttering and fanning the flames in his lower tummy. She looks so beautiful, her eyebrows furrowed as her mouth drops open, feeling the way the friction of their hips moving both satisfying and aggravating the bubbling of lust in her belly. She opens her eyes, meeting Calum’s, who’s focused eyes and parted lips are hung on his face. He looks incredible with his glazed brown irises, plush limps plumped even more, red with blood linger at the surface. She leans forward and captures his bottom lip between her teeth without breaking eye contact and he lets out a small moan.

“I’m going to,” he sighs, guiding her hips faster and harder against his. She encourages him, smiling down with hooded eyes and her lips parted,

“C’mon, baby,” she sighs. Calum’s eyebrows furrow as the heat in his stomach intensifies tenfold, the friction sending sparks and fireworks off in his lower tummy. Her words, her voice, her sighs send him over the edge, his toes curling and throwing his head back. His orgasm is prolonged by the weed in his system, his brain swimming with nothing and everything. His limbs vibrate, tingles rolling up his spine as he releases in his briefs. He’s clutching her hips so hard as she continues to move with purpose. His eyes flutter open, the aftershocks of her movements tweaking every nerve in his body.

Her lips are rolled between her teeth as she bites down. She looks down at him with determination and he starts moving his hands again, guiding her over and over against his still hard cock.

“You going to come for me, doll?” Her eyebrows furrow as she nods, resting her chin against her chest as she feels the beginning of her climax rolling in waves between her legs. He presses a kiss to her lips, gently coaxing the orgasm that was so obviously ready to tip her over the edge, “I know you want to, doll. Cum for me the way I came for you.”

His words make her insides twist and release, dropping her orgasm on her like a bomb, “Oh, shit, Calum.”

Her jaw drops as he gently rocks her against himself, letting her bask in every single electric spark in her nerves like he did. Her shoulders tense and relax, her stomach muscles flexing against his torso as she finishes, her body spasming with each movement of her hips.

She presses her hands to Calum’s chest when she’s finished, feeling his pounding heartbeat under her palm. She looks at him in the eyes, blurry from her high and her orgasm. Adoration is woven in her pupils as they adjust to the light of him in front of her.

“Hi,” he sighs and she lets out a blissed-out giggle.

“Hi,” she repeats, resting her head on his bare shoulder. She curls up against his chest. Calum’s hands find their way up to her back, stroking the skin and rubbing her back as she evens out her breathing. He’s sitting there, in disbelief of what happened, with no complaints at all.

“I enjoyed that,” she mutters, sitting upright again, looking Calum in the eyes.

“I too enjoyed that,” his voice is raspy and he grasps her face in his hands, “I want that again. And again, and again, and again...” he trails off and she smiles down at him.

“How about a date first?”

“Deal.”

#5sos #5sos blurb #5sos fic #5sos fluff #5sos imagine #5sos smut #CH #calum hood #calum hood blurb #calum hood fic #calum hood fluff #calum hood imagine #calum hood smut #smutified #imagined #isabella writes

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jj-lynn21 · 5 years ago

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HOLLYWOOD MOBSTERS Starring Bill Skarsgard and his family ch 6

ch 1 ch 2 ch 3 ch 4 ch 5 ch 7

Warnings: violence discussed, cussing, angst, smut, fluff

Bunny’s bedroom dance: Love Me Like You Do

Photos from esquire Singapore September 2019, Calvin Klein, IMDB and Ejalo’s Instagram

Bunny shimmies out of Bill’s arms in the morning. She is getting her outfit back on when Bill wakes.

“You ok?” He asked as he sat up body drizzled with sweat from sleeping so close to her.

She tied the outfit around her neck looking at him acting all nonchalant, “Yeah, I’m cool. No big deal.”

Bill whines, “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I just meant to make you feel good. But if you want to leave, I won’t stop you or anything. Just…” He laid back down pulling the sheet over his head turning away. “Don’t tell Alex I fucked up again. He will kill me for hurting you. I can’t believe this wasn’t fucking real.”

“What?” bunny looks over at him. When she sees Bill has buried himself, she goes to sit on the side of the bed. “Bill you made me feel things I never thought I would or could with a man but I thought you were just looking for a one night stand to make you feel better, feel something good.”

“I’m not fucking like that at all Bunny,” He cried under the sheet that shielded him. “But get the fuck out of here. I will get my own place soon enough. You do not ever have to see me again. Before Genna there were other women who I thought cared but fucked me and left. You are not the first and you probably will not be the last. You were fucking leaving so get the fuck out already.”

“Bill,” She rubbed his back though the sheet. “I haven’t even slept with anyone in ten years. I’m sorry, I didn’t believe you could possibly care for me. Look at me baby boy, please.”

Bill throws the sheet off and sits up to look at Bunny. His eyes red. “Don’t hurt me Mommy.” He touched her cheek.

She leans into his touch. “That’s a good boy. Mommy’s going to dance for you, okay?”

“I’d like that,” Bill smiled innocently. “Mommy can I kiss you before you dance for me.”

She nods. He moves in slowly as they close their eyes. His lips lightly brush over hers before staying for a long deep kiss. He pulls away. “I’m ready to watch you now Mommy.”

She gets up to go to the pole by the windows. Alex has a stripper pole in just about every room of the place. Girls, other than Bunny, have taken special clients to the bedrooms. It is an extra two-thousand-dollar fee but all have said they got their money’s worth and tipped the girls extra well for the evening. Bunny flips through the music on the phone and plays Love Me Like You Do for her special routine for bill’s eyes only. Bill gets out of bed completely naked to walk over to her when she is done. His arousal on display.

“Mommy can you help me now?” Bill looked shyly at her. He had a way of acting so innocent when he was looking less than innocent.”

“Oh, baby boy of course Mommy will always take good care of you when you are such a good boy.” She untied her outfit to let it fall off of her. “Just no more pouting or whiling or Mommy will have to discipline you.”

Bill nodding. He would pick another time to test what she would do to him. Bunny pushed him back towards the bed. He went willingly falling back when he felt it behind his legs. He watched with wide curious eyes as she straddled him. Bunny put his hands on her hip. She gasped lowering herself to take in his manhood. Whimpering softly her hips rolled to find that spot he hit before. Bill bit his lip watching her as his thrusts pushed in deep.

“Can I touch you more Mommy,” Bill groaned.

“Yes,” Bunny whined.

Bill reached down to work her clit as she road him.

“Fuck, more.” She begged as she road him harder.

When they came together it was like a blessing. Bill held her close. They rested awhile, before Bill ordered Pizza and cloths for her. They showered together making love again before actually getting cleaned up. She threw on a robe. Bill put jeans on to go get the things that should be at the back door. He comes back. Hands her a bag with a new dress and under garments.

Bill stripped his jeans off and got back in bed with a piece of pizza, “You can leave the cloth in the bag. I think its Naked Sunday.” He chuckles.

Bunny giggle as she slides off the robe. She crawls over to him going to take a bite of his pizza. He pulls it away. They are laughing when Alex is walking past the door. He smiles at the match even though it means he can no longer tell her everything that has been on his mind this past week. He knocks.

“How’s everything going?” Alex teases as he listens to them scurry.

Bunny puts her robe back on. Bill slides on some boxers before answering the door.

“We’re fine Alex,” Bill leans on the open door. “What’s up?”

“Can we talk in my office,” He smiles at Bunny. “I will just still him away few moments baby girl.”

“Its fine Daddy,” She giggles. “It will give me a chance to put some clean linens on the bed.”

Alex nods with a grin. Him and Bill walk down the hall.

“Its good to see you, happy brother,” Alex opens the door for Bill to step into the office before him. “But business does have to continue.”

“What do you need me to do Alex?” Bill crosses his arms over his bare chest.

“Gustaf is going to have to heal before working again.” Alex poured a scotch on the rocks. He raised it to Bill, “Drink?”

“No thank you,” Bill waves the offer off. “Do you need me to take his place?”

“Yes,” Alex takes a sip of his drink and walks to his desk to sit. “I know you haven’t worked for the family full time since you were fifteen, but we really need you now. Truth be told you were always a bit better at picking things up and dropping them off then Gustaf. He always wants to try to talk to are friends. You intimidate people more. Especially now. It’s a good trait little brother. I don’t even remember why you stopped helping.”

“Because it fucking sucks,” Bill mumbles. “I had other options Alex. I never thought I’d be back in this whole thing. I’m here now. I will help with what ever you need. Do I have to keep secrets from Bunny?”

Alex chuckles, “She knows everything. She’s good to talk to when things go sideways, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Bill blushes.

“Go on and get back to her,” Alex makes a shoo shoo motion with his hand. “Just don’t do anything that makes her want to go against the family. I don’t want to deal with that sort of problem again.”

“What do you mean again?” Bill looked at his brother curiously.

“Nothing,” Alex put his feet up on his desk. “I’m interviewing a possible new girl in a few minutes, Go have your fun with Bunny. Tuesday night you have a job to do.”

Bill nods and heads out. He crosses paths with small nervous looking blonde. He smiles, “break a leg.”

She smiles, “Thanks.”

Bunny and Bill spend the day in bed talking, eating, and having minding blowing sex in her opinion. It is extremely good in his mind. He teaches her some diffident positions that she never thought she would enjoy. He has her toes curling time and time again until he needs to carry her to the bathroom to clean up.

“I better be able to work by Wednesday night,” She laughs.

“We can take a break on Tuesday,” Bill grins.

On Tuesday after he is off work, they decide Bill will move into her loft apartment. They had already been caught naked running after each other in the club by Alex when they thought no one was there. He just suggested they be at least partially dressed when out of the bedroom.

Alex starts sending Bill on runs since Gustaf cannot do it. Everything goes smoother than his first time. Word got around Bill killed all the guys at his first run, so they feared him. The Thomas Family representative just dropped the cash in front of Bill and backed away slowly. Bill grabbed the cash and dropped the products at their bar. Same as he did with Gustaf. He kept the money and cleaned it at his bank the next morning. Bill had gone from not wanting to be apart of the family business at all to doing a shit load of dirty work out of guilt mostly.

Valter’s graduation party was held at the main family home. Angel was by his side stuck to him like glue until Alex needed a private word with him. By that time, she felt comfortable sitting with Eija, Bunny, and Bill. She really wanted to get to know Bunny so maybe she could be a dancer at the club when She moved to Hollywood for Valter. It was perfect timing since two dancers had decided to move on when they were married and only one new dancer was hired. Valter and her were planning to move into Bill’s old place.

Valter grabs a note pad and pen from Alex’s desk as Alex starts to speak.

“We are all so proud you little brother,” Alex gushed

Valter wrote on the paper BUG ON MY CHEST, “Thanks Alex. I worked hard. I’m ready to help the family out how every you need me.”

Alex nods, “I would still like you to work the bar if you would like that. It would entail you balancing the books for that part of the club. You would distribute the tips from the bar tip jar to the girls at the end of the night also. Do you think you could handle that?”

“I could do that. Angel still wants to be a dancer.” Valter writes THEY TOLD ME TO ASK YOU THIS NEXT THIS, “Is there anything more you would like me to do involving other business?” “Angel can try out as soon as the two of you get settled,” Alex nodded his understanding. “Bill is going to be our delivery man of coca cola to the other bars. As long as the other bars don’t try to bully our family to join them in less legal activities. The Malforals are not happy we refused to do all the things they want our club to be involved in. They pretty much admitted to your brother what happened to his girl was their doing. To tell you the truth I would rather not do business them, but I fear we have to so no one else is hurt.”

Alex was willing to sell out the Malforals. Maybe get rid of them for good if the F.B.I. busted into their club and killed or arrested all of them. He knew they would not get taken in without a fight. It would be good enough pay back for trying to kill Bill and Gustaf.

“Probably a smart idea,” Valter said uncomfortably.

“I have some paperwork for you and I to go over since you will be taken over as head bar tender,” Alex takes the paperwork out of the desk for Valter to sign.

Gustaf and Stellan come in from a walk.

Bill stand with Bunny to introduce her. “Papa this is Bunny Nisson.”

“Nice to meet you Mr. Skarsgard,” She smiles politely.

Stellan looks a little caught off guard for a moment. Then smiles, “Well isn’t this kismet. I knew your Father Miss Bunny. You and Bill use to play in one of those tot cages your mom liked to use while the adults had tea.” He chuckles. “You’re a very lovely woman. Are you Keeping Bill out of trouble?”

“I’m trying,” She giggled

Alex and Valter walked out of the office.

“Excuse me kids,” Stellan nodded. “I need to speak with Alex. He motioned for Alex to follow him outside.

Bill teases Bunny, “I knew you looked farmilar when I saw you.”

“Yeah,” Bunny giggled, “you seriously remember playing in a playpen with me when we were babies.”

to be continued...

#mobsters #bill skarsgard smut #bill and bunny #bill skarsgard #alex skarsgard #valter skarsgård #Valter Skarsgard and angel #gustaf skarsgard #stellan skarsgard #fiction #fantasy #original story #love #smut #angst

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secondhand-trash · 5 years ago

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Dick Grayson(Nightwing)- In The Rain

A/N: I just love the batboys so much ok, let me have this self-indulgence little moment here thanks. (Sidenote, I struggled to choose between writing about Officer Grayson in Bludhaven or Nightwing in Gotham but ended up going with the latter because my complicated feelings towards the police force made me uneased.)

Description: It seemed to be raining everytime you meet Dick Grayson.

Wordcount: 2072

Playlist:

Colouring Book//The Regrettes

Old Fashioned//Bruno Major

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy//Queen

(I stg I did not plan for this to happen it just so happens that these two songs have such similar titles)

The first time you met Dick Grayson, it was raining and you didn’t even know his name.

Ever since you received the notice of your relocation to the Gotham branch from your company, you had dreadfully count downed to the day when you had to make the move. Your boss must have hated your guts to move you to one of the most notoriously dangerous areas of the country, you should have known better when you decided that you would not suck up to him like your colleagues when everyone told you that he was infamous for playing favourites.

Way to go standing firm on your moral grounds, now you’re carrying a huge suitcase in the city with the highest crime rate. At night, all alone, and it’s raining.

You tried to walk as quickly as you could, all while pulling the heavy suitcase with the worn out wheels close to you. Your other hand was sore from holding up the umbrella that barely shields you from the rain and your feet was numb with soaked socks stealing all of their warmth.

You were already miserable and when you caught what seems like the shadow of a man from the corner of your eye, the pounding in your chest sped up from panic and the worst possible scenario flashed before your eyes. That’s it, you’re gonna die. Should have expected it right when the first raindrop hit your chin on the dim street that was honestly no more than a path lit by scarce streetlamps on the side.

“Miss?”

Your heart skipped a bit upon hearing the voice from behind your back and you let out a repressed, instinctive squeak. It took a while for you to calm down from the fright and register the figure that was standing a short distance away from you or come to your logic that what you heard was not the most aggressive of words.

“Hey hey, it’s ok. I just want to see if you need help.”

The figure walked closer to you and stood under the streetlight. You took your first proper look and recognized him as one of those vigilantes that your friend who lived in town told you about. It seemed like a lot to take in at that time, there weren’t masked heroes jumping from roof to roof back in where you came from, but you didn’t expect to run into one of them on your first day in the city. You did have faint memory of the symbol on the man’s chest but you couldn’t quite connect it to the names your friends rambled on about. (There’s just too many names and they all sounds oddly familiar ok?)

You’re so doing your research if you could make it to your apartment in one piece.

“Oh, I’m alright. You probably have more important things to take care of.” You gave the man a faint smile and attempted pulled your suitcase closer to your body, “But thanks for asking.”

The man slightly tilted his head and you could see his eyebrow quirking up from above his mask. While you thought that you very well pretended to have yourself together, your damped sleeves and tired out voice gave the stranger a very different impression.

“It’s too late for you to be out here alone and remain safe,” the man said, “you aren’t exactly in the safer parts of the city and you’re carrying a suitcase more than half your size under the rain. Will you at least let me walk you somewhere with cover?”

"Alright then.” You said and you winced at how rude, almost pathetic, that came out. You appreciated his offer but you were too exhausted to keep your composure. “Thank you.”

He looked almost relieved upon hearing your reply and walked closer to your side. Despite your protest, he immediately took the umbrella from your hand and held it above your head. It was then that you noticed his hair was dripping wet yet he did not try to shield himself from the rain and you felt an unexplained sense of guilt building at the pit of your stomach. How long had he been under the rain?

You two walked in silence with only the loud crackling of rain surrounding you. There were several moments when you almost brought out the courage to start a conversation but the part of you that was afraid to sound embarrassed ended up winning every time. There were a few split seconds when he turned to check up on you and you were certain that he was gonna say something. But seeing how you would quickly turn your gaze back to the road, he decided that silence would be more comfortable for the both of you.

At heart, you appreciated it. Truth be told, you were slightly intimidated by the masked man. You tried to steal subtle glances at his direction when you thought he wasn’t looking at you just to have a better view of his appearance. You found your eyes following the water droplets the dripped from his fringe and slide down his sharp jaw. The blue strip that extended from his finger went all the way across his chest and you forced yourself to focus on the road instead of staring at this toned stranger for a duration that was far too inappropriate. If anything, that just made you even more glad that neither of you tried to strike up a conversation.

“This is my stop,” You stopped in front of what would be your new apartment complex and the corner of your lips lifted up to form your first genuine smile after arriving at the city, “thank you, uh...”

“Nightwing.” The stranger flashed you a grin and you felt your smile growing wider.

“Thank you, Nightwing.” You said softly, opening the door of the building. You were about to step in when you felt a sudden rush of courage and turned back to the vigilante who had yet to leave. He was standing steps away from you and you wondered how he could be so unbothered by the rain.

“Be safe, the rain will probably go on until next morning.”

Nightwing seemed to be a bit taken aback and the white lens of his masked widen just a bit but he quickly regained his previous composure. “You too, especially around here.” He hesitated before adding with a smile, “Most people who hide in corners of the street probably aren’t planning to offer help to a lovely newcomer who is alone in the rain.”

The second time you met Dick Grayson, it was raining and to you, he was just a ridiculously attractive man who happened to share your table at a cafe because it was the only seat left.

You discovered this cozy cafe near your apartment after moving to Gotham for a few days and you quickly became a regular after a few weeks, sitting at the table next to the large window every weekend with a book in hand. You were sipping your coffee at your usual spot when you heard the faint rattling at the window and people started rushing in to hide from the sudden rain.

“I’m sorry, do you mind if I seat here?”

You looked up from the rim of your cup to see a man that was soaked from head to bottom. You quickly put down your drink and nodded, earning a mumble of thanks from him.

Attractive strangers were the worst because you only get to ogle at them (discretely) for a short amount of them before you two never crossed paths again. But as the raven-haired man placed his wet coat on the arm of the chair and sunk down to the seat opposite to you, you thought that maybe Gotham wasn’t all that bad for the first time since you moved here last month.

You started scrolling through your phone mindlessly to conceal your urge to glace at the man seating near you. You silently cursed at yourself for getting to the point where you had to glue your eyes to a screen to stop looking at random people. After seeing the same Twitter thread on Instagram twice, you put your phone down in frustration and was surprised to find the man looking at you with an amused expression.

“Do you always stare at strangers like that?” you jokingly asked, trying to pass your nerves off.

“Only the cute ones.”

“You think you’re so smooth.” you raised your cup to take a sip, hiding the clear evidence of heat spreading on your cheeks.

The man only chuckled your expression and you wondered what he found so interesting about you being flustered. “You’re new in the city?”

“Moved here last month,” you let out a satisfied sigh after having the taste of coffee on your tongue, “is it that obvious?”

“You don’t look beaten up by this place just yet.”

You laughed and felt way more at ease, “Just yet?”

“Not exactly the most forgiving place.” He said but the twinkle in his eyes told you that Gotham had quite a place in his heart. “I’m Dick.”

“(y/n).”

The third time you met Dick Grayson, it was more of a light drizzle than rain. You smiled as he still sat down at your table with half of the seats in the shop being empty and you found the confidence to flirt back at him. He asked you out by the time the rain stopped.

The fifth time you met Dick Grayson, you weren’t even sure if ‘met’ was still an accurate term to use since you two see each other regularly now. He stayed the night at your place because it was thundering and he ‘forgot to bring an umbrella’. Was it an excuse? Maybe. It was only a pure coincidence that you happened to lose your extra umbrella a while back.”

The eighth time you met Dick Grayson, it started to rain when he was about to leave after dropping you off at your apartment. As he pulled away from a kiss, he whispered in your ear saying he was the one who walked you back that night you arrived at the city. You were so distracted by his hot breath at your ear that it wasn’t until you were alone that the big secret he so nonchalantly revealed to you finally settled in your head.

You stopped counting after you two became official. Now, with the sound of Friends’ laugh track and Dick’s arm draping over your waist, you found the sound of rain hitting the windows to be oddly comforting. Your back was pressed up against his chest as you two casually lounged on the couch. You could feel the vibration from his chest when he laughed at the show and you wondered how you got so lucky.

You shifted your position to lean against him on your side and wrapped your arms at his torso. He smiled and looked down at you, kissing your forehead before pulling you closer to him.

“Sometimes I’ll remember that my first image of you was that you looked like a Greek god even with damped hair and your first impression of me was when I looked like a wet chicken in the middle of the night, talking about imbalance.”

He laughed at your remark, “You made quite the impression.”

“Enough for you to pretend to run into me again and again.”

“But do you want to know what made you stood out?” he asked with a gentle smile, softly scratching the back of your head.

“What? Because I pretended that I wasn’t checking you out?”

“Is that so? To be honest, babe, you were so obvious.” he laughed as you playfully hit his arm but his expression remained genuine. “The thing with growing up doing what we do, you got so used to people not caring that you would be surprised when someone do so little as reminding you to be safe.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you reached up for his chin and kissed him on the lips. You could felt him smiling into it before kissing back. As you closed the gap between you and him once again, you secretly decided that rainy days weren’t so bad after all.

#dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #nightwing imagine #nightwing x reader #dick grayson #nightwing #batfam imagine #batfam #dc imagine #batfamily #batboys #dc comics #dc characters #richard grayson

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 5 years ago

Text

Two Can Play At This Game

Characters: Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Word Count: 1,172

Warnings: fluff, minor smut, breast action and a bit of nipple

Summary: Matthew comes up with a new way for you to study for your finals.

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me.

This is the December 2nd fic for my 25 days of RPF Christmas with the prompt: Imagine your OTP studying together, and for every question answered right, somebody has to take off a piece of clothing.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

The most stressful thing about the Christmas holiday isn’t the shopping, planning, buying a tree, or inviting over your in-laws. No, it is finals week… and they suck. The degree you’re going for is in astronomy since stars, planets, galaxies, and space overall is something you’re really passionate about. Matthew loves that side of you since you often went star hunting in unbelievable places where there aren’t pollution and lights to fuck up the search.

You’re so passionate about the subject that you took Matthew to a planetarium for your first date since you asked him out first. He had been fascinated by the whole thing and impressed by your knowledge of the constellations and stars. Having him explore that side of you has been a surreal experience, but if you can get a degree without all these tests, that would be great. Some of them are easy, but there are others like the one you’re doing now which is so hard.

Testing already makes you nervous, you can’t focus on anything but how you’re freaking out. Matthew so graciously let you study in his trailer while on set for Dollface, a new series exclusively on Hulu. He’s busy with Kat and the rest of the cast, and you’re stuck inside studying. It wouldn’t be so bad, but it’s also winter which means the cold is biting at your skin in all the ways it knows how. If you hate anything more than finals week, it’s the cold.

If Matthew were to come in here right now, he would be so disappointed. Instead of studying, you’ve been on your phone watching hilarious videos that people without your humor wouldn’t find funny. You’re scrolling aimlessly when you hear his trailer door open and his infectious laughter.

“I’ll talk to you later. I want to see how Y/N is doing,” he says as he enters. You’re slow to react because you don’t move your eyes from your phone until you hear his throat clear. You look into his eyes and give him a nervous chuckle.

“I was taking a break?” you pose it as a question.

“Have you been on that thing the entire time? You know you have to study if you want to pass!”

“I know but it’s so hard,” you whine.

“Not good enough,” he shakes his head and snatches your phone from your hands. You whimper and whine, but he doesn’t break under your weak manipulation.

“Study!”

“I don’t want to. I’ll just wing it,” you nod.

“How about we make this into a game? It seems like you won’t otherwise, and if we do this my way, you’ll learn a thing or two extra,” he chuckles as he sets your phone on the counter.

“I’m interested,” you trail off and sit up.

“I’ll give you thirty minutes to study with no distractions. I’ll ask you questions from the sections you read, and for every question you get right, I’ll take off an article of clothing of your choice. For every question you get wrong, you have to.”

“But it’s cold in here!” you gasp.

“I know. It’s punishment for not studying,” he chuckles.

“You bitch,” you grumble.

“Do we have a deal?” he grins.

“Fine, but just know you’re getting naked before I do.”

“We’ll see,” he smirks and lets you get to work. He sets a timer for thirty minutes, and as soon as it starts counting down, you begin studying. It’s easier said than done with Matthew in the room since he can be very distracting even if he’s just sitting there. You have your back facing toward him so you’re not tempted to just watch him scroll aimlessly on his phone. Within thirty minutes, you’ve gotten through a good chunk of knowledge. As soon as the timer beeps, Matthew turns it off and takes your textbook from you. After showing him the sections you’ve read, he begins flipping through the pages.

“What is dark energy, in simple terms?” he finally asks.

“Well, it’s not something the scientific community has a whole lot of knowledge on. However, it is thought that an energy field of some sort pushes things apart, causing the universe to expand faster than it would have otherwise.”

“Correct.”

“Shirt off, Gubler,” you grin.

This is so going to be easy.

This is so not easy.

Currently, you’re down to your bra, sweats, and mismatched socks (thanks, Matthew) while Matthew’s down just to his sweats. You’re freezing at this point since Matthew made it his personal mission to get his trailer to reach freezing temperatures--or, it feels like it. He’s continuing with the questions as if you in your bra doesn’t affect him, and you pray to get this right. Matthew doesn’t like wearing underwear, so if you can get his sweats off, then it’s game over for the both of you. If you get it wrong, then the questions will still continue. He’s looking through your textbook for the hardest question he can find until his eyes light up when he finds it.

“Can any new interstellar matter be developed from quasars after they die?” he asks.

Oh shit. Oh shit. You learned about this a few weeks ago, but for the life of you, you can’t remember it now. Shit, that means you’re going to have to take off an article of clothing and continue the game. It was fun at first, but now you’re getting annoyed. Not with Matthew or his question, but just because you’re watching the bulge in his pants swell, and you’d rather do something else than this.

“Yes! No, wait no!” you gasp.

“Why? You have to give an answer.”

“Shit, um, because they’re dead?”

“Wrong. Take off your bra,” he chuckles.

He doesn’t realize the mistake of his decision until it’s too late. As soon as he sees your breasts bounce free, he’s a goner.

“I think we’re done studying. You’ll get an A,” he mutters as he tosses the book to the side. You don’t say anything as he crawls over to you, and you can’t help but tease him just a little.

“No, we have to study. You’re the one that told me to in the first place,” you giggle when his lips ghost over the skin on your neck.

“Now you’re being cruel, woman.”

“Your rules,” you sing.

“Yeah, and I change them. New game now. Try not to make too much noise, okay? Kat’s trailer is very close to ours,” he chuckles. He moves down south and peppers kisses all around your breasts without touching the one place you want him to touch. You fist your fingers in his hair and start to guide him when he latches onto one nipple and lightly bites it. Your back arches as pleasure shoot down from the source to your core. Keeping Matthew’s rules in mind, you hold in the moan that’s desperate to leave your throat.

Oh, so this is how he wants to play? Well, two can play at this game.

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