#it's about the high waisted dress pants + thick tank top

[agentmika]

in my mind my outfit today is really giving butch english professor daniel craig photoshoot meets 'you stole fizzy lifting drinks' jeremy allen white

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Smut/nsfw!

Corruption kink with dilf Miguel O'Hara.

Him getting back from HQ one day, tired and stressed, only to find you waiting for him at his place.

You're dressed in a pretty skirt, shoes off, and a white tank top underneath which he can see your hard nipples. And Jesus, you don't even know. You don't realize how it affects him.

When you see his dispair, you're just about bouncing with the need to aid him.

“Are you okay?” you question, walking up to him. Your pretty eyes look up at him, holding his gaze.

He's not sure what overcomes him, a sudden animalistic urge that has his cock hardening. “I'm okay, princesa,” he replies, voice growing thick.

“Are you sure?” you insist, hugging him around the waist. “Maybe I can help you...”

His huge hand cups your cheek, gently caressing your cheekbone before dragging his thumb over your lower lip, appreciating the way the soft, wet flesh gives to the pressure of his thumb.

He tries not to, but you're just such a good girl, so easy to convince...

“Well...there is one thing you could do...”

You jump at the opportunity. “Yeah? Yes? How?”

He kisses your lips tenderly, softly, teasing your tongue with his until your breath is heavy and you're pressing your body against his.

“Come here,” he says softly, grabbing you by the hips and picking you up. With ease, he carries you to the couch, sitting on it and pulling you onto his lap so you're straddling his hips.

You blush, pretty eyes widening at the position. He's never done anything like this. The most you two have done is cuddle and kiss; he's never even touched you.

Your hands hold onto his shoulders, keeping you steady. He squeezes your hips, his eyes dark as he watches your reaction. He loves to see you blush, the look of surprise and spark of arousal in your gaze.

“You okay, princesa?” he asks, feigning innocence.

You nod, swallowing thickly. He can't wait to teach you to swallow his load after you suck him off.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, watching him attently.

He runs his nose across your jaw, nuzzling into your neck. “You wanna help me feel better?”

You shudder as his warm breath blows across your collarbone. “Yes,” you say softly.

He grabs your hips, starting to grind you against his thigh. You gasp, eyes widening, nails digging into his shoulders.

“M-Miguel?” Your voice is shaky, uneasy, a little whine escaping your lips.

“For me, yeah?” he says lowly, moving you against him, aching to eat you out, to slide his fingers into you, to fuck you hard and fast until you're dumb from ecstasy.

You nod. “O-okay,” you say, gasping silently as a shock of pleasure rushes up your spine.

You let him lead you, making you ride his thigh. He revels in the sounds you make, the way your slick drips through your panties and smears onto his pants. He wants to lick you, touch you, fuck you.

He contents himself with making you come on his thigh over and over again until you're shaking, eyes wide with shock and dark from satisfaction.

“Atta girl,” he says, voice deeper, thicker. He holds you as you come down from your high and he kisses your forehead.

“Do you feel better?” you ask breathlessly, body sweaty and eyes fluttering shut.

He grins. “Oh, definitely, princesa. I feel much better. But maybe there's one more favor you could do me...”

He waits for an answer even though the keen look in your eyes says it all.

You nod. “Yes.”

-----

@yagirlheree @sukioyakio @obi-mom-kenobi @celestia80s @manlikemilesmyguy @zaunsin @naniiiii12 @everlastlady @avatar-lover @siidmm @dhollandhs @spikedhe4rt @missing2socks @itzraven101 @miguelspookiebear @mochikomochisoft @sunset-euphoria @kishibeswh0re

*if you want me to add you to my taglist, comment or send me a message <3

-----

Blog masterlist

[slocumjoe]

What do the companions do/wear on their days off?

omg this is such a good prompt...

Companions' off-day

Cait;

What she does; Relax as much as Cait can relax. She might clean her gear, or practice her aim at the shooting range, but Cait takes her quiet moments where she can get them. Though, her idea of quiet isn't actually...quiet. She likes the bar scene, telling stories of her and Sole's exploits. Cuts back on booze after the Vault, but still takes a soda to toast to her own badassery.

What she wears; Tank tops, baggy pants. Soft shorts, sweats, lounge wear. Assuming she feels totally safe, of course. You can tell her comfort level by her pants of choice. Her normal leathers? Uncomfortable. Jeans? Open to relaxing, but unsure. Cotton or fabric? It's lounging time, baby.

Curie;

What she does; All sorts of things. Curie dips her fingers in everything she can. She bakes, she runs tests and experiments, she works at the clinic, she tends to animals, she gardens, she does this and that and that and that and...a very busy bee. Curie is never not doing anything. Berry-picking, trying her hand at weapon crafting, kickball; Curie's days off are full of activities and learning.

What she wears; Colorful clothing, fun patterns. Floral button-up blouses with high-waisted pants and sneakers, flannel overshirts with comic graphic tees, long dresses and skirts. She really likes dresses. So swishy! All her clothes are dirt-stained at the knees.

Danse;

What he does; Train, tuneup his gear, patrol, repeat. Danse doesn't have much outside of his military life. There isn't a buffer for him. He doesn't have an off switch like that. After BB, this worsens. Doesn’t eat, sleep, or stop doing. The other companions intervene and force him to take a break, but it's uncomfortable for him. Eventually they take turns keeping Danse busy for his own wellbeing. Cait spars with him, MacCready takes him shooting at the range, Preston has him gardening, et cetera.

What he wears; Work clothing. Overalls, jeans, tighter shirts that won't snag on little bits of machinery.. His boots are forever caked in mud. Used to like Tacky Old Man Patterns and brighter colors, but After BB, wears dark, form-hiding clothing, like thick sweaters and coats. Gets a lot of body image issues. Starts wearing hats to hide/shadow his face.

Deacon;

What he does; If really relaxing, Deacon is most himself. He reads, tailors his clothing, listens to music and radio shows. When Deacon relaxes, he isn't doing anything but enjoying media. It's not often he gets to relax. He'll also play with makeup and his wigs, trying out new potential looks. It is genuinely fun, even if for work purposes. Likes helping Curie and Piper with their makeup.

What he wears; Hoodie, sweats, crocs. Comfy, nondescript. If he's relaxing, he isn't being Deacon, Railroad Spy for a bit. He's just Deacon. And Deacon wears crocs and a hoodie with a weird graphic on it.

Gage;

What he does; Depends. Is he still a Nuka World raider, or domesticated by a Minuteman Sole? If former, uses the off time to run his own little investigations into everyone else, keep tabs. Works, basically. If domesticated, sits on a porch with a smoke, watches the sheep (settlers) go baa (tend the fields, run their shops, guard the settlement, etc). Whittles as a hobby, makes intricate wooden animals. Teaches Shaun how to do it. Kids take to him, weirdly enough. Also plays harmonica, but only in private.

What he wears; Tank tops, dark jeans, and his usual shit-kicker boots. Raider gear is messy, but its every-day practical. Has a furlined jacket he dons if cold, but he avoids it because something about a furry coat collar makes woman irresistibly attracted to you, and he prefers to lay low.

Hancock;

What he does; practices knife tricks, reads, writes, fiddles with his gun (never happy with the recoil), plays video games on terminals or Sole's pipboy. Babysits Duncan, plays video games with him. MacCready doesn't need to know Uncle John has a higher score in Zeta Invaders than him. Often goes 'campaigning', asks people about their thoughts on leadership and community.

What he wears; Pants, boots, no shirt or a very loose shirt. Has cut the bottom off of dresses to make the top a shirt. Gives the bottom to Curie to make into skirts.

MacCready;

What he does; Shooting practice, video games, comic books, puts models together, and most curiously, draws. Rather good at it. Draws his own comics, but most his impressive work is his diagrams of wasteland critters. He does it to help his head remember weakpoints, point out openings in the middle of chaos. Plays toys with Duncan shamelessly.

What he wears; Warm clothing, mostly, no matter the weather. Thick sweaters, soft slacks, jeans...practical, but comfy. Dislikes silky fabrics, loves thick socks. Wears his hat everywhere.

Nick;

What he does; Loves activity books, especially number-based puzzles. They're kind of hard to come by, and he feels bad filling them out since they're not in production. Piper and Nat make new ones for him. He's also good at the piano, and when he can find a functioning one, likes to just sit and enjoy the music. Tries to teach Danse piano, but good God, that man couldn't carry a tune if he glued it to his hands.

Wears; Nick is an old man. He's always in the slacks, the suspenders, the button-up dress shirt.

Piper;

What she does; Makes Nick's puzzle books, for one. She likes racking her brain to find a challenge, look for little details to catch him up. Enjoys reading, obviously, but writing tends to be a work thing. Piper likes writing, but when you do it for work, doing it to relax feels like making a paradox.

What she wears; Jean shorts, graphic tees, and baggy tank tops. Wears flip flops and crocs. Puts her hair in low pigtails since its a bit too short to go all the back in one tail.

Preston;

What he does; Tries his damndest to relax, but he just can't. He's always all nerves and waiting for the other shoe to drop. He's cooking a new recipe, or patching up his coat, or making maps. Really likes cartography, scary accurate. It takes a lot to really get him to let his guard down. After Blind Betrayal, takes Danse under his wing since they're in similar boats. They talk a lot of history.

What he wears; Sweatpants, soft shirts and flannels, warm clothing. He's easily cold, especially his hands and feet. Wears gloves and thicker socks often.

X6-88;

What he does; Trains. If forced to take up a standard method of 'relaxation', will take up art, weapon crafting, or try his hand at Nick's and Piper's puzzle books. Sometimes he blows through them with a scoff, other times he gives up and asks the solution. Fascinated by those trick, brain teaser puzzle toys.

What he wears; Dark shirts, dark pants, dark boots. He's never not dressed nicely, cleanly, and formally. Even his sleepwear (once Sole demands he treat himself to his very own wardrobe) is elegant in a way. The sunglasses stay on, always.

[chaoscharme]

Corporate Chic

How to dress well for young corporate fashion girlies

Disclaimer, this post is aimed at women and feminine people in the corporate world, but these tips can apply for anybody regardless of gender expression <3

1. Covering up vs stripping down

It can be difficult for young people to find a comfortable balance between their workwear and their personal style. The average young person may struggle to adapt their own oversized, cropped, baggy or revealing clothes to suit the needs of a professional work ensemble. The easiest way to do this is to create boundaries for your work clothes, and stick to them as much as possible.

Personally I like to keep my boundaries at three separate points, sleeves, skirts, stomach. I never wear sleeveless clothing, and my minimum sleeve boundary is a thick tank sleeve. My skirts are generally just above the knee, and never shorter than my fingertips. This makes me feel more comfortable when sitting, bending, or crouching down at work. My torso is covered at all times while at work, and generally this is the norm for office wear. I like to wear clothing that meets or overlaps in the middle to ensure that I feel comfortable and appropriate at all times.

2. Necklines, cuffs and waistbands

When choosing necklines for work clothing, try to limit the amount of skin shown for a more professional look. I recommend trying turtlenecks, round necks, boat necks or a shallow v-neck for best results. When wearing button downs, never unbutton more than three buttons from the top. If you have a v-neck that you would like to wear to work but you feel is too revealing, try layering a camisole top underneath it, or securing the neckline with a safety pin at an appropriate depth.

Cuffs are a really fun way to express some of your personal style, and to help accentuate your proportions. Personally, I love to wear a flared sleeve, or even a bubble sleeve. More exaggerated and interesting sleeves add a unique touch to your standard corporate outfits. Experiment with sleeves and sleeve lengths to find what you’re comfortable with.

Waistbands are often something we don’t consider when choosing office outfits, but they can make a drastic difference when styled intentionally. Personally, i generally opt for a high waist trouser or skirt, as I am rather short, and i find it easier to keep my outfits work appropriate this way. However, a low rise pant or skirt with a long top, or a mid rise trouser with interesting layering, or even different dress waistlines can create unique and more personal silhouettes for your outfits. Playing around with accessories along your waistband such as belts or waist beads can help put a personal stamp on your corporate ensemble.

3. Fabric and textiles

Office and formal setting require that you eliminate some fabrics from your wardrobe, such as denim. Much as a tasteful, tailored denim piece may look more formal or appropriate than a pair of faded, baggy slacks, many corporate dress policies will forbid denim from entering your office. Instead of wallowing in your sorrows, try introducing new fabrics to your workplace wardrobe. Along with your standard cotton blends that everyone has, try wool or wool blends, corduroy, satin, silk, velvet, tulle or mesh. There are a place for most fabrics in the corporate world as long as they are styles appropriately.

Introduce pieces that have multiple fabrics such as tulle sleeves or skirts, wool bands or satin accents to maximise your personal style expression. Also, do not be afraid to lean into an embellished look. Beading, embroidery, lace, sequins and metal hardware are all potential accessories you can introduce to add flair to your outfits.

4. Colours

The most common misconception on the internet about office wear is that you can only wear black, white and grey. I denounce this idea, and instead propose that more colour is injected into your wardrobe in 2024. Just because you are in a professional setting does not mean you cannot dress in vibrant and interesting colours. Mixing and matching different colours into your looks is a great way to put a professional outfit together without feeling drab or dull. This also means that you are more likely to wear the piece outside of work, making it a better investment and a more useful piece of clothing.

5. Accessories

Accessories are one of the easiest ways to spice up a boring and lifeless outfit. Accessories extend past jewellery, into belts, gloves, hats, scarves, umbrellas, coats, bags, nail varnish, makeup and shoes. Mixing and matching a large selection of different accessories will allow you to rewear the same pieces over and over again without getting tired of them. They also are a great way to link your outfits back to your personal style and help you transition between workwear and homewear more easily.

Remember, the most important parts of office outfits are that they are:

Appropriate

Comfortable

Personal

Rewearable

Making sure that your outfits suit you and feel comfortable for you is the key to looking and feeling fabulous at work.

Mwah, chaoscharme

[femmefatalevibe]

hi there. im about to start college and i want to change my closet so i can feel more confident in my body and feel like the woman i want to be

im short (5'2), have an hourglass-shaped body with thick thighs, a big chest and a short torso, so finding clothes that look good on me is hard. what kind of clothes do you recommend to have that femme fatale style? thank you <3

Hi love! Applauding your mindset and the effort you're taking to step into your own as you enter this exciting new chapter of your life.

I would say that tailoring will be your best friend – think structured v-neck/square-neck top (knit polos), button-down shirts, tailored vests, blazers, high-waisted bootcut/flared trousers, A-line skirts/dresses/shorts are all great options.

I recommend the Gap '70s Flare pants/jeans, square-neck/deep scoop-neck tanks & tees, v-neck/polo-style tops, hoodies, & sweaters, casual button-downs (options that hit below your hipline/cover your hips), a longline (vegan) leather blazer (hits below your hips), knit flared pants (they pair well with a v-neck sweater for loungewear, lunch, or going to class) a simple trench coat, pointed or square-toed shoes (consider a short block heel) that matches your pants and has a shaft that doesn't leave an awkward gap of skin between the top of your shoe and hem of your pants.

Some other options include layering a thin deep scoop neck tee under a strapless bustier top with some bootcut or flared jeans/pointed-toe flats or boots, a squareneck/button-up bodice and wide-leg trouser jumpsuit, or a fit & flare style dress with a square-neck or sweetheart neckline.

I would look at COS, Banana Republic, Everlane, Reformation, Madewell, Alo Yoga ($$$ though), The Frankie Shop, DISSH, and Norma Kamali for options under $200.

Hope this helps xx

[styleofdiamandis]

     PHOTOSHOOT: MARINA FOR NYLON MAGAZINE

Marina’s editorial fashion back in 2019 was more than amazing. From wearing some of her favorite labels to emerging designers, she gave us everything and more. Here’s what she wore for her NYLON story.

She was photographed by Sacha Perlstein and styled by Jenna Igneri. Both hair and makeup were done by Stephanie Peterson.

For the first look, Marina  kept it clean in a white cross-over jumpsuit with wide legs by PH5 which she layered on top of the Rachel Comey Spring/Summer 2019 Armplus black floral lace blouse with puff sleeves.

To accessorize her look, Marina chose these Lizzie Fortunato Sun Bleached disc hoops in faux pearl and rose quartz stone tops...

...and a pair of Nicole Saldaña's Alyssa lucite wedge heel square toe sandals with wrap-around strap.

Look n.2 brings some more color with a yellow ribbed cut-out crop top from Aritzia's in-house label Wilfred Free. Marina's black leather pants with split sides are signed by Italian emerging designer label DROMe. The most similar thing I've found were these Fall/Winter 2017 pants.

I am frankly OBSESSED with these Alexis Bittar limited edition multicolored lucite and gold metal post earrings on Marina!

Footwear designer Nicole Saldaña makes a return with her Gabi pink leather strappy wedge sandals!

How stunning does Marina look in this 3.1 Phillip Lim look?! She wears his Spring/Summer 2019 sheer white maxi dress with contrasting black cherry appliqués all over which was presented during New York Fashion Week.

Underneath, she rocks a black tank bodysuit by Uniqlo.

A pair of Erickson Beamon’s Temptress hanging crystal statement earrings completed the look.

Time for the last look, which is actually an outtake! Stylist Jenna was sweet enough let me personally know that Marina wore the Rachel Comey Spring/Summer 2019 Agave belted nude leather wrap blazer with large pockets!

The striking red, soft knitted, ribbed crop sweater with round neckline and open back featuring a tie detail, and matching high-waisted briefs are both by Live The Process.

Both her adorable Blanc daisy pearl drop earrings with gold metal...

...and Arc thick domed cuff in marbled "Dune" lucite are signed by Lizzie Fortunato, who we’ve talked about before in this post.

And finally, the Welsh singer sported a pair of these Via Spiga Porter color-block leather mules with block heels!

[fivelakesinwriting]

Treasure Hunt (JJ Maybank)

Author's Notes: JJ gets The Chateau to himself for a night.. I haven't committed to writing a full JJ smut yet. Perhaps one day. The inspiration for this fic came from a line from a Drew story I wrote. Let me know what you think if you have a moment! xoxo

Warnings: Sexual innuendos - sexual references (Little smutty) , Swearing.

Requested? Nope. But requests for OBX are open!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

It wasn't very often that JJ Maybank had any one space to himself. He felt like an unwanted guest in his own home, the place he grew up in. And he knew one day he would overstay his welcome at John B's house. For now, his presence was welcome at the Routledge house so he stayed as much as he could.

Tonight was one of the nights JJ had The Chateau all to himself. He had told himself he would be, a respectful young man and not invite his girlfriend over for full naked reign over the house. He told himself he had enough self control to sit on the couch and watch whatever movies were on television for one night. Or that he could find some old DVDs, or even a VHS kicking around.

"What room do you wanna do it in first?" JJ smirked as he pulled his cutoff tank top over his head and tossed it carelessly across the living room.

Within ten minutes of being alone, JJ wrestled with the idea of a night by himself, then quickly ran down the street to her house and told her come over.

"Couch. We never get to do it on the couch." She smiled as she pressed her hands to his chest then backed him towards the threadbare couch that rested against the back window of the house.

The back of JJ's legs hit the couch and he let his body fall with an umph down. He grabbed her hips and pulled her to straddle his lap, his fingertips brushing over the skin beneath her shirt as he kept her close.

JJ made a show of pulling off her shirt. Slowly, and with great care, he pulled off the loose tank top and tossed it elsewhere in the house. He smiled at the soft lace bralette, jade green, beneath her shirt, a sweet change of pace from the bathing suit tops he usually saw her in. Not that he minded.

"Cute." JJ stated flatly as he tugged at the strap of her bralette with his index finger.

"Thanks. You can borrow it, if you want." She laughed as she threaded her fingers in his messy blonde hair.

"Next kegger, I might." JJ chucked as he laid both his palms flat on her back to pull her flush against him then silenced her with a kiss. He reached behind her to skillfully unhook her bra, pulling the straps down her arms then throwing the soft material somewhere within The Chateau.

She breathed a sigh of relief against his lips as she pulled at his hair, her thighs pressed tightly against his while her hips swiveled down on his lap. JJ grinned into the kiss as he used his body strength to flip her back to the couch and lay between her thighs.

"You have too many buttons on your shorts." JJ grumbled as his thick fingers fumbled with the gold buttons that lined her high-waisted shorts.

She laughed as she reached between them to help him with her shorts. She usually chose fashion over function, but if she was going to be with JJ, she might have to rethink that choice. She thumbed open the delicate buttons of her shorts and lifted her hips to let him know he was able to take the dark blue material off of her.

JJ grinned while he slid her shorts down her legs then tossed them over his shoulder. He knelt between her legs on the couch to pull his own shirt over his shoulders to throw it somewhere else in the living room. He laid back down on top of her, one arm holding his weight on the arm of the couch in front of him while the other kept a firm grip on her thigh.

"JJ.." She groaned as she wriggled beneath him, her hands on his bare shoulders.

"Yeah?" JJ asked as he kissed along her neck towards her shoulder.

"There's a spring from the couch cushion digging into my back. I'm rethinking our decision to have sex here." She replied as she placed her hands on his neck to prompt his head up from the crook of her neck to make him look at her.

"My room?" JJ asked as he looked down at her with swollen lips, his hair even messier from her hands tugging at it.

"Please." She nodded as she began to sit up again, a soft push of his chest.

JJ sat up, climbing off the couch and with a tug of her hand easily pulled her up with him. JJ bent at the waist to put her over his should, a smile on his face as she squealed when he placed a soft smack on her backside.

JJ carried her the few short steps through the house, down the hallway and into the spare room that he called his own. He carefully laid her down on the bed and smiled down at her while she looked up at him with just her jade green thong on. She reached for him, her fingers curling in the air, while her legs fell open to accommodate his frame.

JJ dropped his body down onto the body between her thigh, his weight held on his forearms above her. He smiled as he pressed his forehead to hers then playfully nudged her nose with his.

"Ready for me?" JJ asked as he knelt on the bed and unzipped his shorts.

"Yes, JJ." She smiled as she reached forward to run her fingers along the plains of his abs.

..

Even in the early morning the sun was hot through the spare room that JJ Maybank called home. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, careful not to wake the girl who still slept soundly on his chest.

"What time is it, JJ?" She asked softly against his pecs.

"It's like...9am or something." JJ muttered as he reached for the digital clock on the bedside table and turned it towards him.

"It's 9am? Shit. JJ, my parents have been awake for an hour now. I have to go home." She gasped as she shot up in bed and looked around the room to find her clothes.

JJ reached at the headboard behind him and pulled her jade green thong down to hand them to her.

"Let the treasure hunt begin." He smirked as he climbed out of bed and pulled on his shorts from the day before.

She kicked her legs up, pulled her underwear back on, then rolled out of bed and ran through the halls with JJ to find her clothes that had been carelessly tossed throughout the house.

"Damnit, JJ!" She yelled as she stood in the kitchen topless, hands on her hips.

"It's not my fault." JJ laughed as he looked through the living room. He released a call of triumph as he found her shirt and held it high in the air. He tossed it over his shoulder and continued his hunt for the rest of her clothes.

"Pants, JJ! I need pants." She muttered as she walked quickly into the living room with him.

"Not from where I'm standing." JJ smirked as he tipped his head and watched as she bent over to sort through a mess of blankets and clothes.

"Focus, Maybank!" She replied with a snap of her fingers.

JJ breathed out a laugh then continued his search for her bra and her shorts. He turned around and looked at the other side of the living room and squeezed his fist with pride as he found her shorts as he found her bra slung over the recliner chair.

"Babe! Shirt and bra." JJ called as he tossed her top and bra over to her, a weak tug in his heart as he watched her get dressed again.

"Thank you. Now where are my damn shorts?" She breathed out as she smoothed her shirt over her stomach.

"I didn't think I threw them that far." JJ replied with a scratch of the back of his neck while he tried to avoid looking at her legs.

As the two were about to come with another game plan, the front door of The Chateau opened and John B walked in. He stopped in his tracks, eyebrows raised as he saw his best friend shirtless in the living with a girl in just her underwear.

"Morning, JJ..." John B trailed as he slowly closed the front door and shrugged out of his backpack then placed it on the floor.

"Hey, John B. Morning." JJ replied, a slight panic in his voice as he shuffled slightly to stand in front of his girlfriend to cover her close to naked bottom half.

"There's a pair of shorts over the T.V. Is that what you're looking for?" John B smirked before he made his way towards the kitchen.

JJ turned around and looked down at her with an apologetic look. She gave his chest a playful shove before she made her way to the television and grabbed her shorts then pulled them up.

"Oh, by the way! Her parents are all over the block looking for her. So you might want to wrap this up." John B yelled from the kitchen.

JJ reached for her hand as she looked at him with panicked eyes then pulled her out of The Chateau and down the dirt path for one last kiss goodbye.

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you for your support xoxo

Requests for OBX are open!

[theimpossibleg1rl]

Red Lights

Bucky x Reader

Warnings: public sex, dirty talk, pet names

The club was too loud for Bucky’s liking.

Too smoky, too crowded. Too much. He needed a distraction. So he lit a cigarette and stood back against the wall, surveying the place like there was a nearby threat.

And then he saw you.

Red lights illuminated your body, your features. The curve-hugging black dress you wore. His eyes traveled to your feet. Sky-high stilettos. Toned legs. It was clear you worked out. But he knew that. He woke up at 6 AM every morning, mostly to watch you.

It was like an obsession. Damn close enough. He was entranced by you. The way your body moved to the ridiculously loud beat. The man behind you, hands on your hips. His, he thought to himself. You were his. No...you weren’t. But he’d change that tonight.

He waited.

Just outside the restrooms. Patiently. He knew you’d show soon. And as soon as the door opened, your heart stopped in your chest. “Bucky,” you whispered and he was on you in an instant. Hands traveling up your dress. Back pressed against the wall. Lips on your neck.

“It feel good?,” he asked and you looked at him, confused. He chuckled darkly. “His hands on you, Kitten. It feel good to you? Or do mine feel better?” Hands. One warm, one cool on your thighs. Dangerously close. Your breath hitched. He had you.

And he knew it.

“Needy girl,” he whispered, tongue darting out, licking his lips before pressing them against yours. He tasted like whisky and menthols. It made your knees buckle. “Hmm...don’t need these,” he hummed just as he ripped your panties from you and tucked them into his pocket.

“She wet?,” he teased, hands still on your thighs and you nodded, making him chuckle again. “Bet you are. Did he do that? Or me?” Your knees shook, breath ragged. “You, Bucky. It’s all you.” He smirked, leaning in to nip at your lip. “That’s what I thought. Every morning, huh? Know I can smell you, don’t you?”

“Know it, know I want you. You’ve just been waiting, haven’t you? Waiting for me to fuck your pretty little brains out, aren’t you? Come in, little tank top. Tight leggings showing off that perfect,” Slap. “Ass.” Slap. “So dirty for me, little girl.”

You heard the belt. The zipper. God, you wanted it. Needed it. “On your knees,” he whispered against your lips. “You gotta earn it, sweetheart.” You didn’t argue, didn’t care about getting caught. Your mind was hazy. The ache between your legs was too strong. You needed relief.

So you got on your knees for him.

“Good girl,” he praised, eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your lips around him. Big, thick. Long. Almost too much. But you were desperate to impress him. To earn it from him. He grabbed the back of your head and fucked your mouth. Drawing it out, making you choke. Mascara running. “Sinful,” he breathed, looking down at you.

“On your feet.”

He had your dress up around your waist. Legs around him, back pounding against the wall. Deep, hard. He wasted no time. He wanted a release and he knew you did, too. Loud moans and grunts. His teeth digging into your shoulder. Biting down, marking you up for everyone to see. He didn’t give a damn.

“Perfect. Taking me so well, aren’t you? Hmm? So good for me, aren’t you? Such a good little girl for me.”

He took his time. Slow. Fast. Slow. Fast. Head resting on your shoulder. Moaning, growling. Feral. “Feel good? Hmm? So wet for me. So, so warm and wet. Feels like heaven, baby girl. Gonna make me come so fuckin’ hard, aren’t ya? Gonna make me explode.”

He licked his lips, fingers digging into your ass. “Take you home, yeah? Spread you out. Nice and wide. Fuck you over and over. Make up for lost time. Fuck you all night, baby,” he growled. Deeper. Impossibly deep. Impossibly hard. Making you nearly scream at the sensation. The utter pleasure.

“Gonna bend you over. Have you every way. Pussy, ass. Maybe fuck that mouth again? Use mine, too. Would you like that?,” he asked and you nodded. No words would come anymore. “Yeah? My lips and tongue all over you? Bet you taste so sweet, don’t you? Yeah. Gonna make you come like that, too.”

He was close. He was whimpering. Thrusts unsteady. Stuttering. Even deeper. Even harder. You were so close you could taste it. Clenching. Throbbing. Quivering. Legs shaking. He chuckled deeply, making you shiver. Low in his chest. “Gonna come?,” he asked and you nodded.

“Me, too,” he panted. “Gonna fill you up. Watch my come drip from you. Fuck, baby!” He growled loudly, hips stopping, burying deep as he came. You followed right behind. He moaned your name, holding you still for a few moments. A slight blush appeared on his cheeks and you couldn’t help but laugh.

He sat you down, adjusted your dress, his pants and held out a hand. “Let’s get outta here, sweetheart. We got things to do.”

[def-initely-soul]

Jungkook, 6th bullet from first link plus "we only have to make it till blah blah 7hours away". Preferably enemies to lovers and he is dressed as a vampire 🤤

hmmm... I see how it is... 👀

pairing: jungkook from bts x reader (f.)

prompts:  we’re in costume and I know exactly who you are but pretend I don’t so I have an excuse to make out with you just once & “We only have to make it until sunrise, which is… 7 hours away.” 

genre: e2l au; murder mystery party au; smut; explicit

warnings: mature language; heavy petting; sexual content

words: 2.4k

.

.

You never should have come to Seokjin’s Halloween party.

You should’ve, you should’ve known he was bound to pull something out of his ass. Besides, that’s what he’s best at. Surprising you with elaborate schemes you never claimed you wanted to be a part of and then being a part of nonetheless.

And now you’re stuck with the one person you’d rather jump off to a tank of piranhas instead of being in the same space as him.

Seokjin, as well, went full-on Halloween mood and prepared an elaborate Murder Mystery party that doubled as an escape room theme as well. Basically, you were supposed to escape the room you were in, together with as many people you were inside with and then use the clues you found to track down the killer.

What Seokjin failed to mention, or deliberately concealed, was that at the time of the announcement, wherever you were, immediately became your personal escape room. So once his announcement over the speakers came to an end, the door to the kitchen where you were currently in, was locked shut, leaving you inside to try and figure out a way out.

And now you’re stuck with Jungkook of all people.

Seriously you’d rather eat rat poison instead of being locked up in a room with him. And that’s a painful death.

Strangely enough, he hasn’t attempted to talk to you for the past fifteen minutes you’ve been locked in here. Usually, he’d try to rile you up with backhanded compliments or straight-up mockery but not tonight. Tonight, he sits at the other side of the room, eyes fleeting over the dark walls and fake cobwebs to hunt for some, any clue. But his gaze never falls on you. Like he’s trying to avoid you or something.

That’s a first.

You sigh with a raise of your shoulders. Yeah, it sucks to be stuck here with him but you should make the best out of the situation and work together if you want to get out. “So, got any idea what to do next?”

Once you speak, the vampire-dressed boy turns to look at you with wide, doe-like eyes. Damn him for looking so adorable in a vampire costume.

Well, it’s not exactly a vampire costume, you guess he couldn’t be bothered enough to buy an actual costume. So instead, he’s dressed in black, leather pants that hug his legs tightly, drawing attention to his thick thighs and his tiny, little, huggable waist. On top, he’s wearing a black shirt with white details and the first three buttons undone, revealing the expanse of his silky smooth looking chest. The audacity of this man! As if he’s not hot enough to have girls dying at his feet, he also has to tease them mercilessly with just a sliver of skin too!

To top it all off he’s wearing a black, leather jacket and his hair is styled with some kind of gel that makes it look wet all the time as if he just got out of the shower. He wears red contacts to complete the look with just a few droplets of red syrup running down his chin and neck.

You resist the urge to slap yourself back into focus and instead you mentally berate yourself.

Don’t let his hotness sidetrack you!

“I, uh...Honestly, no clue…” he says sheepishly, chuckling softly as he rubs the nape of his neck awkwardly. Your eyes widen just a tad and you find it hard to swallow, staring at what seems to be a shy Jungkook, something you never had the pleasure of seeing before. Until now.

Wait, why on earth is he acting shy in front of you? Is this a trick?

“So, how do you know Seokjin?” he says, attempting small talk and you have to physically stop yourself from staring at him bewildered.

What does he mean “how do you know Seokjin”? He was there when you first met, what the hell is he-.

Oh. He can’t recognize you.

It’s probably the mask.

You came into this party dressed as a fallen angel. Wearing a black, thin-strapped, mini dress, a slightly lighter corset on top, paired with black wings, lace gloves, a black halo and also black mask that covers your eyes. You weren’t really in the mood for putting too much makeup on and the mask was the perfect solution to that.

Hm. That could explain why he’s suddenly acting all shy towards you.

So he doesn’t know who you are? This could be interesting.

“Uh, I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you…” you reply teasingly, a thought popping into your mind and you indulge yourself no matter how ridiculous the idea is.

Your reply has the handsome man across from you do a double-take before a smile takes over his lips. It’s sincere, nor teasing or patronizing, and you admit that when he looks like that he’s completely irresistible.

“Ah, then I suppose same goes with your name…” is his witty remark and it’s your turn to smile.

“I’d like to maintain an aura of mystery around me…” you respond, not capable of hiding the loop-sided smile on your lips, as he smiles back.

“Ah, the epitome of a perfect guest.”

“I only try my best.”

A comfortable silence stretches between the two of you as you stare at each other with curious eyes. Jungkook bites his lip in thought and your eyes follow the movement to rest on his soft-looking lips. God, you swear you’d almost-.

“What about your name?” you say instead, trying to chase away any indecent thought.

Jungkook’s smile turns into a smirk as a teasing glint takes over his eyes. “Ah, allow me to maintain an aura of mystery around me as well as you so well put it,” he responds, resting his torso on the wall behind him and crossing his hands over his chest. The muscles ripple with the movement, arms and biceps bulging against the fabric and his chest puffs up to reveal more skin behind his shirt.

You lick your lips unconsciously, not realizing you’re doing it until Jungkook’s smirk turns deadly and you turn your gaze elsewhere to regain somewhat of your bearings.

“So…” Jungkook tries to get your attention again and once your eyes are back at him, he looks satisfied. “Do you have any clue what to do next?”

You laugh out loud at that. “Sorry, all my brain cells have been effectively fried off by the entirety of Seokjin’s dad jokes,” you joke and roaring laughter comes out of Jungkook as he throws his head back, revealing the expanse of his neck in all his glory.

Shit, is he doing this on purpose? Is he deliberately torturing you with peaks of his skin and muscles?

“What do you propose we do now? We only have to make it until sunrise, which is… 7 hours away,” he comments, recalling the rules of the game. The only way to get out is to find the missing clues. Otherwise, the doors unlock once the game has ended or until sunrise as Jungkook said.

A wild, incredible idea makes itself known and you bite your lip guiltily.

Should you? You shouldn’t.

But Jungkook’s looking at you like you’re dessert. Like he wants to strip you off your clothes and devour you whole. Normally you’d never get such a reaction no matter how hard you try.

And the truth is yes. You did try.

When are you gonna have this chance again?

So you push yourself off the wall. “I have an idea…” you whisper slowly, letting your hair fall on top of your naked collarbones as you take a step forward. Jungkook’s eyes widen for just a millisecond but nothing else betrays his thoughts at the moment. Except maybe his tight grip on his chest as he struggles to not make a move yet. You watch with interest as his muscles strain beneath his clothes as he keeps himself back. His eyes though remain glued on you, following your every move, every swing of your hips as they trail down your body in appreciation.

You find a certain level of confidence as you near him.

“...And what is that…?” he replies, almost breathless and finally you realize how fast he’s breathing, chest rising and falling with every breath. His nostrils flare up, taking in your sweet perfume and he almost leans in. Almost.

You resist the urge to tease him. Instead, an innocent look takes over your eyes as you finally stand in front of him. The heat of his body engulfs you, standing so close to you and yet you don’t dare to touch him yet. But with one swipe of your hand, you could feel his biceps, you could trace the muscles of his abdomen, the expanse of his chest, let your nails graze his neck or scratch his thighs.

Instead, with his eyes glued to you, you do something.

You gather the red syrup trickling down his neck on your finger. You let it trickle down your digit as you feel Jungkook’s erratic pulse beneath your skin and as you look at him through your eyelashes, you push your finger in your mouth to lick the red liquid.

Not once taking your eyes away from his.

Jungkook stares at you with heavy exhales, heart beating almost out of his chest as he curses softly under his breath.

Then his palms press against your hips to push you closer. Your body collides with his own, hard muscles meeting supple skin and his lips fall on yours.

A moan breaks free from your mouth, lips moving immediately against him, trying to get a taste of him. He lingers on your tongue, sucking your bottom lip between his own with a roughness you’ve never experienced before. It almost crosses to neediness and the thought has wetness pooling in your underwear.

Your hands fly to grasp at his hair, grabbing at his locks roughly and a high-pitched moan escapes his lips.

You can’t help but curse at the sound, feeling like music in your ears, diving immediately back into his lips as you press him hard against the wall. His palms land on your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh and you roll your hips against him in appreciation.

“Fuck, you’ll be the death of me…” he whispers mysteriously before he dives into the skin of your neck. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on your collarbones alternating between bites and suckling bruises into your skin and another moan rolls of your tongue as you press him more and more against you. As if you want him to mold into you, to fill every empty space and press against your skin until there’s an imprint of him there.

His leg wedges between your own to press his thigh against your mound and you cry out loud once his movements bring delicate friction to your clit.

“Shit, don’t stop…” you mutter softly, grasping tightly at his hair to press him more into your skin.

His big palms knead the flesh of your ass, driving your hips to move more against his thigh, sending electrifying pleasure to your clit, feeling as if your knees are about to give out.

“Fuck, fuck, flex your thigh…” you order him and he’s quick to oblige, flexing his muscles and pressing his thigh more against you. Quickly he turns you around, pressing you against the wall, trapping you between the cold concrete and his warm body.

Your hips begin moving on their own, soft rushed breaths escaping you as you chase your pleasure. Making Jungkook picture how you’d ride his cock, the filthy notion filling every crevice of his mind, his grip tightening on your ass and with another curse, showing how affected he is, his lips return to devour your own.

You moan out loud, hands falling on his shoulders to steady yourself, to get better leverage to move more confidently against him. But then one hand begins moving down, pressing roughly against his neck, dragging your nails down his chest and abdomen. Before your fingers dive into his pants to wrap roughly around his clothed cock.

He cries out loud, head falling on your shoulder as he struggles to breathe, hips moving immediately against your palm as both of you move to reach after your high.

You move your fingers slowly against his length at first, dragging the fabric across his velvety skin. A wet spot forms on the fabric near his tip and you press your thumb on it, a hiss tumbling from his tongue in response.

“Fuck, Y/N, do it again, fuck!”

And you almost do, as the sound of your name falling from his lips arouses you more.

But then your eyes fly open as you realize he’s not supposed to know that.

“What?” you say immediately, hand leaving his cock to push him back to stare into his widened eyes. Still, you don’t push him completely off of you so Jungkook takes this as a good sign.

Though his mouth opens and closes with no words coming out as he realizes he fucked up.

“I, uh…” he stutters, trying to find something to say with not very much success.

“You knew who I was?” you demand with wide eyes and stern voice and Jungkook would be lying if he said that didn’t make him a little bit harder.

Damn it, he needs to focus for a second and stop thinking with his dick.

“I…” he takes a breath before a heavy sigh escapes him, deciding to come clean. “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but if I said anything you would’ve fought with me instead…” he says guiltily and you almost go into panic mode thinking what he must’ve thought when he realised you were also into him.

But then you collect yourself. You’re both fully-functioning adults (although the “fully” part is debatable), now knowing that both of you are into each other. There’s no need for acting humiliated and panicked.

You both know what you want.

You huff a stray hair out of your face. “And you think I won’t fight with you now?” you say sternly and Jungkook swallows nervously, but judging by the tent in his pants that thing swirling in his eyes isn’t only fear.

You push him down to his knees as you rest one leg over his shoulder with a heavy, domineering gaze and Jungkook’s eyes widen as he licks his lips in anticipation.

A wicked smirk takes over your lips and your eyes gleam with lust.

“Get your mouth ready, baby boy. It’s time for your punishment.”

[colormeyondublue]

Chapter 4: First Date

Chapter 3 Here - Chapter 5 Here

The next morning came and you went about your business as usual, making sure everything was in top shape in your office. If your work was coming in slow without much needing done, you often just checked to see if anyone needed help with anything, played games, or jammed out to whatever music was on. This time, you found yourself getting lost in your thoughts. It had been a long time since you were home. You found yourself not thinking much about your family or old friends recently. But somehow, it didn’t bother you. You felt like you were home. You couldn’t tell if you should feel guilty for feeling that way…but it was the truth. Although you definitely missed your family at times, this whole journey seemed to change who you were as a person.

Meanwhile, Yondu was pacing in his cabin. He asked you on a date, and he had no idea what to do. He hasn’t really dated, or courted, in years. Besides that, he’s never taken a terran out before! He decided to call someone for help. The last thing he wanted to do was get anyone else involved, but Tullk was someone he could trust. He picked up his communicator and pressed a few buttons. The comm beeped and he heard Tullk’s voice. “Yeah, Cap’n? What canneh dae fer ya?” “Uhh, this might sound strange, but could ya come to ma quarters? I need your help with somethin’.” He could hear Tullk hesitate. But then he said, “Ya, sure boss. I’ll be up in just a bit.” The comm clicked off, and Yondu walked to his desk chair and sat down with a huff. He was asking for help. This was unbelievable. “I can’t believe this girl has gotten into my head already.” He muttered to himself. A little while later, there was a loud knock at his door. “Get in here Tullk!” Tullk walked in the room and closed the door behind him. “What did ya need, sir?” He asked nonchalantly. “Well, this ain't easy to ask but, ya got any datin’ advice?” “Datin’ advice? Ya got a lass yer interested in?” “Well, yeah! Otherwise, I wouldn’t have asked!” “Well…its been quite a while since I took a nice lass out. She’s nice is she?” Tulk asked. “Of course she’s nice! She’s damn near perfect. She’s sweet and funny…and smart, and I just wanna show her a good time.” Tullk was surprised to hear his Captain use words like that. He was typically crass, rude, and a straight forward kind of guy. But everyone deserves to be loved, or at least have a chance at love, right? “So you wanna know what to do? On this date? Well…I only know about terran dates. I’m not sure what other races might do fer that kinda’ thing.” The Captain glared at him. “She IS terran ya idiot. That’s why I asked for yer help!” “Yer goin out with a terran lass? But, how? Where did ya meet a -… OH!” A devious grin appeared on Tullk’s face at the realization. “Choose yer next words carefully.” Yondu growled. Tullk let out a boisterous laugh. “You’re takin y/n out on a date? I can’t believe it!” Yondu began to grow an odd mixture of embarrassed and angry. “Yeah! I’m takin y/n out. Ya got a problem with that?!” “No, no, sir. I just honestly didn’t think she’d go for any of us. I’m not laughin’ atcha. I’m just…surprised – is all.” Tullk said with a shrug. “Well, believe it. So shut up and tell me what I need to do fer this to go right.” “Well, it’s pretty simple really. What I always keep in mind, as a Terran man, is to just be maself. Don’t try to be something you’re not, because them Terran lasses will see right through it. Trust me. Terran girls like to go out and just have a nice time. Food, drink, and good company. Don’t be lookin’ or flirtin’ with other women, or she’ll walk right outta there. Think ya can handle that?” He asked with one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, yeah, I figured that much. Is that all?” “That’s about all the advice I have. Just relax and have a nice time.” Tullk stands upright from where he was leaning on the wall by the door. “Need anything else Cap’n? He asks. “Nah, just don’t say a word to the crew!”

"Ah never do!" Tullk shouted back toward the door as he walked away.

___ The ship begins to near it’s destination, Johpar. Yondu is dressed in relaxed black leather pants, with his usual maroon long coat. The handkerchief tucked in his collar is a dark black, to match his matte black boots. The boots are adorned with a narrow gold metal strip at the edge of his toe. The gold matches his belt buckle and ravager badge. He made sure to trim and shape his beard nicely before heading down to the docking bay to meet you. As he comes in, he looks around to see if you had arrived yet. To his surprise, you weren’t there. “She’s probably just gettin’ dolled up is all.” He mutters to himself. The thought of you getting all dressed up for him makes his heart do a little backflip. “The hell?” He whispers as he lifts a hand to his chest. “That’s new.” Just as the words left his lips, he sees you. You cautiously walk into the docking bay. You were wearing a casual tan and black patterned dress, quarter sleeves, that tapers at your waist, and comes down mid thigh. You’re also wearing knee high lace up high heel boots with some black laced stockings just barely visible between the bottom of your dress and the tops of your boots. Your hair is done in a half updo. You’re holding a black leather jacket over your shoulder and glance around the room. The last thing you want is a bunch of grimy ravagers sneering at you. To your relief, there was no one around – but Yondu. You lock eyes with him and your step falters.  Wow, as if I wasn’t nervous before. You try to keep your composure as you approach him. He looks you up and down and visibly swallows. “Ya look real nice.” He said. “Thank you.” You answered with a slight blush. “You clean up pretty nice yourself.” “Well thanks, sweetheart. If yer ready, we’ll head out.” and jabs a thumb toward the bay door. The two of you walk together off the ship and quietly chit chat until you reach the rows of shops and bars. You both walk into the bar and notice it isn’t particularly busy. Yondu offers to get you a drink. “What’ll ya have darlin’”? You think about it for a moment, and realize you have no idea. Last time you ordered a drink was back on Earth. Sure, there was always beer and whiskey on the ship, but that was getting old. You decide to play it safe with a glass of wine. “Any kind of sweet wine. I’m not picky.” You smile up at him and he gives you a polite nod. “Go have a seat there in that booth, and I’ll meet you over there.”

“Okay!” You respond with a sweet smile.

He watches you make your way to the booth, noting the way your hips move as you walk. His mind goes blank for a few seconds, your legs and ass are hypnotizing. You turn to seat yourself in the booth and notice that he’s staring. You blush and smile at him. With a small wave of your hand, he snaps out his trance, and heads to the bar. His cheeks are flushed.

Upon getting drinks for the two of you, Yondu plops down in the booth across the table from you. He slides your wine to you, and you take it from him with a gentle, “Thank you.”

“So,” Yondu begins. “You been on my ship for a couple a month’s now, how’s Ravager life treatin’ ya? Better than you thought I hope?”

You take a sip of your wine and shrug timidly, “It’s definitely better than where I came from. But, my story is pretty much the same as any terran or human that ends up way out here.” “Traffickers?” Yondu says with what looks like a little sadness in his eyes. “Yeah, traffickers.” “How old were ya?” He asks. “Honestly, it wasn’t too long ago. Few years maybe? I was on a camping trip with my family. We were way out in the Ozarks when they took me. We were camped in the mountains, a fairly thick wooded place surrounded by rivers and glens. My family used to camp there every summer and I always got up with the sun when we would camp. I’ll never forget it…I got up that morning, put on a tank top, shorts, and my hiking boots and went down to the river just to breathe in the morning. I thought I was completely alone until I heard some gravel on the bank crunch behind me. I turned and expected to see a deer or another hiker or something. But I saw a strange figure. Next thing I know, everything is black. I woke up on a strange ship hearing voices that didn’t make sense. Eventually I put two and two together.” “I’m sorry.” Is all Yondu could say. He understood how horrible that might have been. He recalls his years aboard slave ships. “It’s okay. I think I was on that ship for about 6 months before they sold me to someone else. The ones who gave me a translator implant had green skin and pointed ears. Skrull maybe? I don’t know. Then they stopped on Krylor one day. I saw it as a window of opportunity, so I took it. The Skrull were a bit more flexible or lenient than the ones who took me, so I had a chance to run. I hid for 3 days before coming across that pawn shop. Worked there as cheap labor for a few years. Then I met you.” You smile at the memory of first seeing Yondu at your old job. “And then you met me.” Yondu returned your smile. Although he hasn’t mentioned it, he thinks you have the most adorable smile. The way it makes your eyes sparkle and come to life is something he’s never seen in any other woman. He continued, “Well, I’m sure glad yer here…despite what ya been through.” “Honestly, me too. I mean sure, I miss my family. I hate to think that they’re heartbroken over me. I’m sure they are. Especially my mom and sister. I don’t even want to imagine how they felt when I disappeared.” Your face turned solemn. “What about yer daddy?” Yondy asked quietly. "Oh, he died. He passed away about a year before I was taken. It makes me sick to think to think about how much my family has lost. Dad…then me. Problem is, they know what happened to dad. He got cancer...but I just vanished.” You dropped your gaze to the table. The date started to take a really depressing turn. Yondu thought quickly to change the subject. He wanted you to have a good time, after all. Yondu reached out across the table and gently placed a couple fingers under your chin. He lifts your gaze to meet his and said, “You ain’t alone. Most of us on this crew have a similar story. We been stolen, sold, lost people, seen death…we got each other though. You’re in good company.” His gentle and genuine smile spreads to your face and you simply nod without another word. “You hungry? We could get somethin’ here or we could swing by another place.” “Honestly, unless you are….I’m really not that hungry. But I would like to take a walk and look around this place a little bit?” “Sure thing darlin’. Anything you want.” As you get up and leave the bar, Yondu leaves a stack of units at the table. You walk out of the bar with your Captain in toe behind you. “Besides, I can’t really eat much when I’m nervous anyway.” Nervous?  Yondu thought. Why is she nervous? She ain’t scared of me is she? “Nervous?” He asked warily. “Well, not like a bad nervous. Like a good nervous.” You assure him. “There such a thing as ‘good nervous’”? He laughs. “Well, yeah.” You said shyly. “There’s good nervous and bad nervous. Bad nervous is self-explanatory. But good nervous is…well…” You trailed off as you walked through the brightly lit streets with Yondu. There were colorful shops everywhere. Stores were selling various items like clothing, food, jewelry and gifts from various planets. “Oh, I got it! Okay, there is a creature on my planet called a butterfly. They’re hard to describe unless I could draw you a picture of one, but they have wings. They’re very gentle and delicate. Good nervous feels like having butterflies in your stomach. It’s like a fluttery feeling. It’s a good thing!” You smile at him. Yondu just smiles to himself and looks down toward his boots while shaking his head. This girl is somethin’ else. The rest of your evening is spent wandering around the shops looking at interesting items and relishing in sights you’ve never seen before. Eventually, you end up in a part of the district that is pretty quiet. You find a bench near a fountain and sit together looking out at Krylor. “It’s so beautiful. I’ve never been on a moon before…this really is amazing. I never thought all this could be on a moon. Our moon back home is small and desolate. My people have visited it a few times, but there’s nothing up there.” “Ya know, yer really pretty when yer face lights up like that. I been a lotta places and met a lotta different people, and nobody cares about stuff like you do. I hafta say, I really like that about ya.” He says quietly. You smile, and blush lightly at his comment. You both continue talking about nothing in particular for a while. Yondu loves listening to you talk about your home, or anything you find interesting. You’re so bright and happy when you speak. You carry a light with you wherever you go. A light that, he now realizes, he would follow anywhere. As you arrive back to the ship later that night, Yondu walks you back to your cabin with your jacket slung over his shoulder. As you tell him goodnight and thank him for a wonderful evening, he says he had a great time too. He takes your hand and leans in to gently kiss the top of it. “Goodnight, y/n.” He hands you your jacket, smiles at you one last time, and casually swaggers toward his quarters.

You’ve kept your composure until now. You scurry into your cabin, slam the door shut behind you and lean up against it – breathing heavily. “Ohh my gosh. Ohh my gosh okay. OOHkay. Wow…that just happened.” You can’t stop smiling and get ready for bed. Finally, you throw yourself into your bed with a long sigh. You fall asleep almost immediately, only to find your Captain in your dreams. Yondu enters his quarters and just stands there, staring off into space. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, his breathing is heavy. After what feels like ages, he finally begins to undress himself for bed. He can’t get you off his mind. Your smile, that dress, your voice, your eyes…all flicker through his mind. “So, this is love. Huh. Ain’t so bad.” He smiles and snuggles down into his furs and blankets and drifts into a peaceful sleep.

[ricksbowen]

one more time | pt. 1

IN WHICH: y/n realizes she had a one night stand with the one person she didn’t expect.

INSPIRATION: feel good inc. — gorillaz, babylon — 5 seconds of summer

WARNING: this whole series is gonna be pretty sexual. i’m making ricky and everyone in the crew a year up, so everyone’s in their senior year and 18+. there’s also implications of sex so read with caution. there’s also underage drinking

A/N: since simply utterly is coming to an end, i’m posting a friends with benefits au cause everyone who reads my stuff probably noticed how much i love clichés

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6

You had been best friends with Ricky Bowen since the 3rd grade.

It was unconventional, the way you both met each other. Ricky had accidentally tossed a football right into your eye, and to make it up to you, he let you give him one back by punching him in the eye. You both had to see the principal that day, with your matching black eyes as the principal threatened to call your parents.

Since then, you had been inseparable. You stuck with Ricky through thick and thin; from when his parents started having problems to when Nini Salazar-Roberts broke up with him right before junior year, you were there. You were there to read lines out for High School Musical: the Musical with him. You were always there, with your window wide open and the rope ladder already hanging out for him to climb up to your room.

In the same way, he was there for you. From when the boy you had a crush on for years rejected you to when you got asked out on your first date and needed outfit advice, he was there. When your boyfriend broke up with you in the middle of junior year, he was there with movies and blankets. He had pictures of you hung up in his room, his favorite being the one from third grade. You, with the glasses that were a side too big for your face and him, with his two front teeth missing, smiling at the camera with matching black eyes.

You both knew each other’s secrets. The fears of love you both attained in your lives, the overwhelming dislike of growing up— you looked to each other for a way to escape.

Your friendship has always been that way: strong, unbreakable.

You rubbed your eyes groggily, forcing yourself up off the bed. Immediately, you noticed the lack of clothes you had and the body next to yours. Letting out a small groan, you cursed yourself for yet another guy you had to let down with a note.

That fear of love always stayed.

You shut your eyes, rubbing your temples to try and remember what had happened last night.

Ej’s college acception party. Winning beer pong with Ricky against Seb and Carlos. Drinking an alarming amount of alcohol and skinny dipping in the pool. Kissing someone hard while you pushed them up against the door.

What a party.

You stood up, making sure whoever was next to you in bed was fast asleep. His head was hidden under the blankets, and soft snores escaped his huddled form. You let out a small sigh, reaching down for the haphazardly thrown clothes around the room.

You passed an absurdly patterned red blue and white shirt as you reached for your bra, eyes lingering on the item of clothing for just a second too long.

You’ve seen that shirt before.

You shook your head to rid of your thought, ignoring the striking pain that followed from your hangover. You trudged around the room, picking up the dress you wore that night. You then found your underwear, and as you walked closer to it to reach it, your eyes landed on another piece of clothing.

A white inside shirt. To anyone else, that would’ve meant nothing. But to you, it meant something that made your heart drop.

“What are you wearing?” you laughed out the minute Ricky opened his door.

“I think it’s pretty snazzy for a college acceptance party,” Ricky grinned, giving you a twirl and letting oddly patterned shirt lift up as he did. He wore an oddly patterned button-up that was unbuttoned with a white tank top underneath and black pants.

You could hear Big Red snort next to you, and you rolled your eyes with a grin, crossing your arms over your chest.

“C’mon, lover boy, Ej’s been spamming me with texts since we’re five minutes late.”

Ricky walked up to the both of you, slinging his arms over both of your shoulders lazily. “Are we planning on getting shitfaced while we’re there?”

“What else are we supposed to do?” Big Red grinned, and you all cheered in response as you made your way to your car.

“Y/N?”

You whipped around, letting out a scream and immediately covering yourself up. Ricky slapped a hand over his eyes, yelling ‘Oh my God!’ over and over while you covered yourself with the clothes you had in your hands.

“What the fuck, Ricky?” you yelled, Ricky shaking his head rapidly and pointing blindly towards you with his free hand.

“Don’t you ‘what the fuck me!’” he fired back, his voice two octaves higher. “I don’t know what happened either!”

“You— We—“ you groaned, slipping on your underwear and looking between your underwear and Ricky’s patterned shirt. You put your bra on and slipped his shirt over your shoulders, blaming your choice on the fact that your dress would’ve taken more time.

“We fucked!” Ricky sputtered, removing his eyes and looking at you. His face bloomed red at the sight of you in nothing but his shirt and undergarments, but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

“Shut up!” you hissed, pressing a finger to your lips and looking around at the room you both were in.

This wasn’t your house or Ricky’s.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair and making your way to the door. You opened it slowly, peeking out in the hall while Ricky climbed out of bed and pulled his boxers and pants on. The smell of breakfast wafted down the hall, and you cursed under your breath as you shut the door slowly. “We never left Ej’s house.”

“Are we just ignoring the fact that we most likely had sex?” Ricky asked, head pounding with confusion as he walked over to you.

“We’re just gonna skip over that part,” you stated, glaring at him. You leaned back against the closed door, closing your eyes and trying to let the memories come back to you.

“Holy shit!”

You cheered as you made the last cup in, Seb and Carlos groaning in defeat and the crowd of people you barely knew yelling in victory around you. You pulled Ricky into a hug, his arms around your waist as he lifted you up and spun you around drunkenly.

“We are gods!” Ricky hollered, making you laugh as your arms went around his neck. His eyes lingered on you for just a second too long before he put you back down, swaying slightly as he did.

You looked at him, an unspoken agreement between both of you as the sounds of the party became white noise. Your hand reached for his, intertwining with his fingers as you pulled him away from everyone else.

You led him down the hall, ignoring the other people talking and making out as you opened a random door and pulled him inside with a laugh.

You shut the door and pressed him up against it, his hands reached down to your cheeks and bringing your lips to his. The kiss was fast, needy, and you found yourself wanting more as you tugged his button-up shirt off and he started undoing your dress.

“We can’t tell anyone about this,” you stated, opening your eyes to look at him. He was biting his lip, eyebrows furrowed as he nodded in instant agreement.

“You’re right. Besides, it meant nothing, right?” Ricky asked as if he was reassuring himself more than you.

You nodded your head rapidly, letting out a breath. “You’re right! It was just..”

“Sex,” Ricky finished, and you sighed, buttoning the middle button on his shirt as a way to cover yourself up just a bit more.

You opened the door, peeking your head out and stepping out of the room. You heard voices from the kitchen, and your heartbeat sped up when you realized you had to explain your situation to the people there. Your fingers started nervously tapping on the door, the habit immediately catching Ricky’s eye.

“Chill out— you’re tapping your fingers again,” Ricky murmured behind you, and you sent him a look before you started walking down the hall to the kitchen.

“Ah, look who’s awake!” Big Red grinned teasingly, leaning against the countertop as he ate his pancakes. Carlos was seated on the counter, his smile almost as big as Big Red’s as he ate his own pile of pancakes. There were two other plates on the countertop, ready for you and Ricky.

“Don’t,” you grumbled, sitting next to Carlos and cutting a piece of the pancake you had.

“Where’s Ej? And why are you two still here?” Ricky asked, trying to ignore Big Red’s eyes on him as he started eating his pancakes nonchalantly.

“Work or something. Honestly, I have no idea— he just had to leave in a hurry,” Big Red explained with a growing smile. “We both passed out from last night so we just slept on the couches.”

“Seb was here too. He had to leave since his mom called,” Carlos added. “Ej and Seb don’t know that you two fucked, so you’re in the clear,” Carlos spoke indifferently, as if he was talking about the weather.

“Carlos—“ you glared, making him shrug nonchalantly and shove another piece of pancake into his mouth.

“Now, don’t ignore our questions because we do deserve an explanation,” Carlos stated, pointing his fork between you and Ricky. You were staying on opposite sides of the kitchen, Ricky with Big Red and You with Carlos.

“We may have been passed out drunk last night, but you two were loud enough that we heard,” Big Red snickered, grabbing his glass of orange juice as he started making sounds that sounded similar to a bed creaking. Ricky slapped the side of his bicep, making Big Red snigger again.

“I wish we know how it happened,” you said with a slight frown.

“So, you aren’t even together?” Big Red asked.

“Nope,” Ricky replied, popping the ‘p’ as he finished his pancakes.

“That’s some cliche shit right there,” Carlos commented, making you roll your eyes. “What? I’m just saying you,” he pointed his fork to Ricky, “and you,” he pointed his fork to you, “have been best friends for how long now? And you had sex on a drunken night?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Talk about a WattPad fanfic coming to life.”

“How do you even know about what that WattPad stuff?” Big Red asked with a raised brow, Carlos hiding his smile behind his glass of water.

“Harry Styles is a beaut,” Carlos stated, making you chuckle while Big Red shook his head. “But back to the point. What’re you two gonna do now?”

Ricky shrugged, looking down at the mess of syrup on his plate as he thought. “It was just one time. It won’t happen again.”

“Yep,” you added. “We promised that it was just meaningless sex.”

“Mhm,” Carlos hummed, sharing a look with Big Red as he listened. “Are you sure?”

“A hundred percent,” you replied with a reassuring smile.

—

Ricky grabbed your thighs, wrapping it around his waist as he kissed down your neck. He pressed you up against the wall, his lips descending down your neck and leaving marks in its wake.

You let out a breathy moan, feeling him nip playfully before he pulled your shirt off and threw it somewhere in his room.

It was supposed to be a study date. You were paired up on a project, and you both only lasted an hour before you got to where you were now; making out and stripping each other against the wall.

You tugged his hair roughly, the low groan he let out hitting you in more ways that one as you pulled his shirt off and throw it behind him. You pulled him back to your lips with need, lips locking with urgency as everything went into overdrive.

“You gotta be quiet, hun,” he breathed against your neck, trying to pull his pants down while you nodded frantically. You threw your head back against the door, letting out a whimper when you felt him grind against you hard. He moaned into your neck, breath hot against your skin while you managed a smirk.

“You too, lover boy,” you groaned when you felt him buck up against you, hands gripping him as if your life depended on it. “We — shit — promised it wouldn’t happen again,” you managed between moans, feeling him move. Each thrust sent up up the wall and back down, and your legs wrapped harder around him.

“I know, but,” he bit his lip, trying to keep in the sounds that threatened to come out “Just one more time,” Ricky murmured breathlessly, kissing under your ear while you nodded.

“Yeah. One more time.”

—

TAGS: @tomshufflepuff, @myrandom-fandomlife, @softpeteparker, @sarcarstic-space-weirdo

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Untitled

Inspiration struck last night 👀 - putting this here so you can let me know if it's worth continuing/if you would want to read more of it. Super AU!

Jane cut the engine of her Ford Ranger just outside the tiny strip mall off of Sixth Street. It had been a splurge just after she got brought on as the head baseball coach of Empire High School, a treat for herself for finally getting a big-person job and generating some regular income. Her mother had convinced her to do it, actually, because Jane had been on the fence for months, waffling so many times that Angela piled her in the family Buick and dropped her off at the dealership. Find your own way home, Angela had said, and it better be in that brand new truck.

Now, Jane was thankful for the push, because southern California summers in her old Civic with the busted A/C were no fucking joke. They were still no joke now, but at least she could blast cold air on her face when needed. Like now: even at six thirty in the morning, temperatures climbed above eighty in early August, and she settled into the discomfort of an already damp back. At least her front still looked fresh. She glanced in the rearview mirror one last time before she got out, taking off her adjustable black cap with her school’s insignia and smoothing the tied-back black hair on top of her head. Presentable and believable: a baseball coach with a ponytail and a Nike dri-fit short sleeve windbreaker over her t-shirt.

She hopped out, satisfied enough to not be looking like a hooligan, and when she planted her turf shoes, she could tell the asphalt was already on fire. The boys were gonna be whiny as hell this afternoon. That made her grin just a little bit. She ambled up to the donut shop-slash-panaderia on the corner, straightening her posture when the door jingled and signalled her entry.

The short, middle-aged woman with her graying hair in a bun and an apron around her waist brightened when Jane approached the counter. “Buenos días, Coach Rizzoli,” she greeted with a smile and voice so cheery, she’d obviously been up for hours already. Probably baking as Jane finished weight-lifting in her backyard before the sun came up.

Jane smiled softly in return. “Buenos días, señora Gutierrez,” Jane said, deferential even though at nearly 5’11”, she must have been almost a foot taller than Mrs. Gutierrez. “Como está?” Short Spanish phrases sounded pretty darn good in her mouth, she had to admit, for all the Sicilian she heard growing up, and for being a product of Santa Ana. Spanish was more common than English in a lot of her friends’ homes growing up, so she caught on quick. At least enough to carry on a polite conversation, if needed.

“Bien, gracias. Tengo sus conchas aquí,” Mrs. Gutierrez asked as disappeared behind the counter to find what she was looking for, Jane’s order, reappearing with six pink donut boxes.

Jane opened her nostrils wide to take in the smell of flour, sugar, and a hint of cinnamon for the white conchas, her favorite. It was enough to feed a small army, which felt just about right for the staff meeting she had been tasked with supplying breakfast for. The first of the new school year. “Qué bueno,” she replied, not sure if she was referring to Mrs. Gutierrez’s overall well-being or the pan in the boxes. She pulled out her cash to pay, slipping her wallet in her back pocket, and in the seconds that it took her to do that, a single, piping-hot styrofoam cup of coffee appeared on the counter in front of her.

“Y un cafecito come le gusta,” said Mrs. Gutierrez with a wink and a smile. Occasionally, she did this, and it was her way of taking care of Jane, one of their family’s best customers.

Jane had learned not to refuse it. She just blushed and bowed her head a little bit, her lips pursed in a bashful smile. “Muchisimas gracias,” she said, taking a sip. Mrs. Gutierrez always left the cinnamon stick in it and added minimal creamer, just how Jane liked. Jane held back a moan. She decided she’d partake of the rest in the car, and then pocketed her change.  She picked the boxes up by the string tied to them and huffed, ready to begin the day. “Y el Jonny?” she asked, and Mrs. Gutierrez nodded her head towards the back of the bakery.

Jane nodded and made her way toward the door so she could pop around. “Qué tenga un buen día, Coach,” Mrs. Gutierrez called after her.

“Igualmente!” Jane replied, already on her way. She deposited her haul on her front passenger seat, keeping her coffee in hand, and then walked over to the alley between the Gutierrez bakery and the block wall separating it from the Cardenas market just across the way. She put her hat back on, threading her ponytail through its opening, and adjusted her Oakley sunglasses as she stood by the dumpster that Jonathan Gutierrez currently filled with broken-down cardboard boxes.

He heard her shoes scuffling his way, so he turned. “Coach Rizzoli! It’s early as hell,” he said, “what’re you doing here?” He sweated through the ribbed tank on his torso and the black basketball shorts on his hips. Jane commiserated, having helped her dad out on many a plumbing job in the summer when she was in high school.

“Well, first day for teachers is today,” she said, sipping her drink. “And I had to get some of your mom’s pan for the meeting. They’d expect nothing less. I’m here lookin’ at you because she exhausted all my Spanish skills, and I needed to remind you that practice starts at one today.”

Jonny, as tall as her, lanky too, smirked. “I’m sure you could’ve found a way to say that to her,” he teased, knowing that she couldn’t have, not well.

“You’re a riot. One o’clock, and not a minute later, a’right? I will not hesitate to bench our centerfielder for opening day if he’s late,” she warned. Then she started to turn.

“That’s like seven months from now!” Jonny whined, setting his box cutter down and running a hand through his thick black hair. “I got work today! Last day before school starts next week!”

Jane rolled her eyes. “The perfect hair thing may work on the girls at school, kid, but it won’t work on me. Find a way to make it happen - if you get into Fullerton, it won’t be because I sent you, but because you did it on your own. Part of that means showing up to practice on time. Even in August.”

Jonny sighed. His mom would understand, but his wallet would be crying. “I’m tryna save up for a pickup like yours, though, Coach,” he tried, batting his eyes for extra sympathy.

Jane laughed, and then he did. “Listen. You show up for practice on time every day this year, and you and me’ll have a talk about replacing today’s wages for that new Ranger, a’right?”

“Ok,” Jonny said quietly. He knew that Jane knew they didn’t have much money. And he knew that she knew most everything about him - she meant what she said. She’d taken him under her wing when she’d noticed his boundless talent and his faltering attendance. When she found out it was to make enough money to keep him and his brother on the team, she’d covered the cost in full. That was two years ago, and now that Jonny was an incoming senior, they’d righted the ship together. There was only a little more to go until he applied to the school of his dreams, the one with the killer baseball program and just miles from home.

It didn’t hurt that Jane was the first woman to play ball there as a range-y second baseman, was eventually drafted from Fullerton. He wanted to follow in her footsteps as best he could. “Good. See you then, kid,” she said. He knew that she knew the best way for him to do that was to grind. To eat, sleep, drink, and shit baseball.

“Hey Coach!” He called after her as she made her way back into the alley.

She turned around. “What’s up?”

“I wanna focus on my forearms this year. Should I go the Altuve way?” he asked, smiling.

The Jose Altuve way: banging sledgehammers into tractor trailer tires. Jane guffawed. “I’m not saying do it, but I mean hey, guy’s 5’5” and hitting thirty dingers a year in The Show, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jonny said. “I’ll take it under advisement. Thanks,” and with that, he waved Jane off. She spent the rest of the ride to school thinking about how to safely incorporate forearm work into the team’s regimen in a way that didn’t involve sledgehammers.

The bread had made her truck smell like heaven, and it was the perfect olfactory accompaniment through the working class neighborhoods of Coronita Heights - the part that she felt more comfortable in. She’d grown up down the 91 in Santa Ana, one of Orange County’s most vibrant cities, and her street looked a lot more like these than the ones that Empire High School sat on.

But Empire was one of the top 15 baseball programs in the state, and she had jumped at the opportunity to coach when she’d been approached about it. She packed the few boxes from her parents’ house, used the rest of her signing bonus to put a nice down payment on a house in Coronita Heights, and hadn’t looked back. It had been good for her - she kept in shape, used that teaching credential she’d worked on at Fullerton to teach PE, and led the Knights to a CIF championship in the five years she had been there. She hunted another.

Soon, the burger joints, smoke shops, and insurance spots gave way to expensive houses and palm trees, and she saw the massive campus come into view. She hopped out of the truck once she parked near the office toward the front, downing her coffee and tossing it in the trash. She tugged her belt, looped through her white baseball pants, making sure the fit was good, and then she took the breakfast out.

Another school year was about to begin, and she was determined to make it a victorious one.

___

Maura smoothed her dress in the full-length mirror of her bedroom for what must have been the hundredth time. It was tasteful: sleeveless, dark blue, with a thin black patent-leather belt around its waist. She paired it with black heels, and she looked good. She knew, intellectually, that she did, but this happened every time she started something new: the nerves kicked in and she doubted herself. She curled her impeccably styled hair behind her right ear out of habit, and then made her way downstairs for breakfast.

Her palatial home in Anaheim Hills sat overlooking the city below, still sleepy at six-thirty in the morning. She was anything but, having already completed her run and entire grooming routine. She perused the options within her double door refrigerator, still quite imposing even under the expansive wooden beams on the ceiling that ran from wall to wall. She thought about eggs, protein always a good start to the day, but then remembered the expected temperature and decided a cold breakfast of yogurt and berries would be best.

Again, it was too hot for warm coffee, but the massive cold brew dispenser she had readied just a few days prior called her name and she filled a tumbler with it and her favorite almond milk creamer. She’d have one cup with breakfast and a refill for the road, as she always did from May to October. She reveled in routine; it was what helped her not to shake as she brought a spoonful of honey, dairy, and strawberry up to her lips.

Today, despite her several years of doctoring, would be her first job with the living since residency. In fact, it would be her first non-clinical job, well, ever. Even when she had volunteered for research, it had been in pathology labs, or oncology centers, or Alzheimer’s wards. Now, she would head the pilot program for a pre-med track at Empire High School. Well, pre-pre-med, she corrected herself. The point of the program was to prepare students from non-private and non-charter school backgrounds for the rigor of medical school. And, as a graduate of the Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA, as well as Boston Cambridge University for undergraduate work, Coronita Heights Unified thought her very qualified to head its inception.

Maura was humble, so she did not consider that they also factored in her copious research articles within the field of pathology, nor her several awards from the Medical Board of California. But they did, and so today she started her teaching/counseling position that included Advanced Placement Anatomy and Physiology, as well as Advanced Placement Biology and an elective of honors molecular pathology to boot. She had negotiated that last one to retain a taste of her passion outside of teaching.

Satisfied both with her breakfast and her mulling, Maura rose from her stool at the kitchen island, its white marble counter still gleaming from its recent clean this weekend, and made her way to the sink. She rinsed her bowl, placed it in the dishwasher on the top rack with the others, and then washed her hands for twenty seconds. Soap on, palm scrub, back-of-the-hand scrub, webspace scrub, for as long as it took to hum happy birthday to herself, twice.

She reveled in routine.

She unscrewed the lid of her tumbler and placed it under the dispenser in the refrigerator again, watching dark coffee wash over ice cubes with pleasure. The properties of matter, their predictability and regularity, calmed Maura. She could predict where each rivulet would go with accuracy, and then watch the change of color with no surprise when she poured in her creamer. She could control how light or dark it became, and thus control its flavor. She savored that one last ounce of control before she screwed her lid back on and walked over to where her purse and rolling cart awaited her at the front door.

She took one last look behind her, at the open concept living room so large it needed a sectional couch that no one used because people hardly ever dropped by, at the kitchen with state-of-the-art, industrial appliances that often cooked meals for one. It was her home, even if all of that were true, and the way that the southern California sun poured in through her floor-to-ceiling windows thrilled her. It thrilled her the way it had the first time she set foot in LA, for her first day of classes. She let that embolden her as she locked the door and stepped into her S-Class.

Navigation popped up as soon the engine roared to life, already pre-programmed with the route to Empire High School. She saw the calculation of a twenty minute drive, rearranged a few numbers in her head as she thought about the day of the week, the time of the morning, and the unpredictability of the 91, and decided twenty minutes was probably just about right. She’d given herself a cushion for twenty-five, and with a glance to the men’s style cartier on her wrist, she smiled and pulled out of the garage towards the main drag that would lead her to the freeway.

She jumped out of nerves and surprise when the system notified her of a call coming in. She smirked when she saw the caller ID: Dr. Nina Holiday, Hoag Hospital. Maura pressed the call accept button. “Need a consult already, Doctor?” she teased, her own voice always just a bit foreign in the morning after not having heard it for hours.

Doctor Holiday scoffed on the line. “You wish,” she replied, and then there were beats of silence. “I just wanted to call to wish you good luck on your first day. And to see if you’d reconsider.”

“If this is Hoag’s way of trying to lure me back, by making their premier neurologist do all the dirty work, I think I’m going to have to pass,” Maura said, and Nina laughed.

“No, this is just a friend saying you’re gonna be missed is all,” said Nina. “But I respect what you’re doing.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” Maura demured. “Pathology is in... very capable hands with Doctor Pike,” she said, and then immediately the two women guffawed.

“You couldn’t even get it out before you started laughing!” Nina asserted, “see? We’re up a creek with no paddle!”

“Whom the department decided to hire in my stead is not my business,” Maura replied professionally, “especially if they do not take my recommendations into account,” and then with more spice.

“You right, you right. And I know I said it before, but I respect you for this. I think my road to medicine might have been a lot easier if I had someone like you at my high school to guide me through,” Nina said seriously. “Just answer me something: you didn’t leave because of Ian, did you?”

Maura stiffened. She hadn’t wanted to think about that on her first day, but here Nina was, dredging it up. Maura wrung her hands on her steering wheel. “No. Not really,” she answered, and that was the truth. The timing of it all had just been awful.

“Ok. I just… with him being gone, I didn’t know if that would be better, or if you’d be haunted by ghosts, you know? If you stayed.”

“I think I needed a fresh start either way, Nina. I really do,” Maura said.

Nina took the hint that they were done talking about it. Her voice turned chipper again. “I’ve got a call at seven, so I have to go, but I’ll talk to you soon, ok? You can tell me all about your first week. Maybe over bottomless mimosas.”

Maura sighed with relief. She would need that. “Sounds great. Nina?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for calling. I’m… I’m going to miss you, too,” Maura confessed.

“Aw, Doctor Isles, don’t get all mushy on me,” gushed Nina. “Bye. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye,” Maura said after the line had gone dead.

Nina’s call had lasted most of the ride. Maura was grateful. Nina had been one of the few people to get to know her at Hoag. The hospital itself had a very competent staff. Excellent, really. And Maura was one of the best, so this led to a never-spoken, always-felt air of competition. It didn’t really lend itself to friendship. But Nina had consulted with Maura so often, that a comfortable working relationship eventually morphed into a casual friendship. That turned into drinks on the rare weeknights they had off and brunch on Sundays at some of the best spots in Orange County.

They promised to continue, and they would of course, but for the first time in their friendship, they didn’t work a floor away from each other, and Maura resolved that while she would do everything to keep it alive, she had to acknowledge the change. Fittingly, as soon as she did so, she drove into the staff parking lot at Empire High. Her new beginning.

Her welcome e-mail mentioned a staff meeting today, Friday, in the lecture hall at the front of the school, refreshments provided. So, she pulled next to the gunmetal gray Ford Ranger to her right, and gathered her things. Her cart could wait until they were dismissed to ready their classrooms, so she deposited her fob into her purse and sipped on her coffee for fortitude as she followed the sidewalk pathway past the front office to the lecture hall. She had mapped out the route when she had found out about the meeting, deciding that touring campus on her own before she began would reduce her anxieties, as well as the possibility of unknown factors. It was also why she had arrived right on time: early meant possible one-on-one conversations with strangers, and late meant all eyes on her as she hustled in.

She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head when she reached the glass double doors of the hall, and breathed in one last time. It was a big, 360 degree breath: it engaged her pelvic floor and spread her ribs equally. It lowered her pulse and calmed her nerves, and then she was ready.

When she entered, she heard chatter. Lots of it. When she turned the corner and yanked open the wooden door of the room itself, she was shocked to see what looked like most of the staff already deep in conversation in their seats. Some stood, others stretched their legs over a couple of seats at once, some laughed and some nodded seriously. For a moment, Maura panicked, then checked her watch again. She felt her heartbeat fall a little bit when she looked up to the front and realized that no-one had started the meeting. In fact, there was a small line at the sign-in sheet, so she decided that rather than have a breakdown in the walkway, she should join the line.

She mustered as much courage as she could and stood behind the last woman, who smiled at her politely. Maura smiled back and thanked whatever powers that be that the woman didn’t try to engage. The line moved quickly, and staff members grabbed what looked like sweet bread just off to the side of the table as they signed in. She forewent the sugar and decided just to take the requisite printouts instead. By then, things started to feel a little more like a normal job orientation, so she turned on her heels to make her way back to the crowd.

The confident turn ended up being another mistake, however, because as she started to walk, she saw no openings. It was like the middle of a very bad dream, in which she needed so desperately to blend in, but all she could do was stand out. She felt eyes on her as she passed tables full of other adults, she heard conversations quiet and alter when she walked by.

However, just as she was about to give up and stand all the way in the back, someone called out. “Hey,” the voice was firm, raspy, and kind. She turned instantly and it kept talking. “You need a spot? I was savin’ this one for my brother, but, big shocker, he’s late.” Seated at a table in the middle of the hall with an all-white backpack on the empty chair next to her, two aluminum bat handles sticking out on either side of it, was… “Oh, and I’m Jane. Rizzoli. By the way.”

Jane Rizzoli. Maura thought the name fitting. Jane was so tall and so dark-featured and so handsome that she needed an Italian surname. And by god, she had one. One with a trilled-r and a plural i and everything: it was perfect for her in the way that all its sounds signified abundance. Maura’s mind rambled and she caught it; she wasn’t even sure how the phonotactic rules of Italian applied to Jane’s physicality, but they did, and Maura sat next to her without hesitation. She chanced one glance to the length of Jane’s torso as she curled to put her elbows on the table, and then she met Jane’s dark brown eyes.

It was then that she realized that Jane probably awaited some kind of response. “Maura Isles,” said Maura, holding her hand out. Jane shook it and Maura was not at all surprised by the firmness of the shake.

“Hey Maura. I’m uh, I’m the head baseball coach here. I also teach PE,” Jane explained. Then she looked down at herself, her uniform and the bats in the backpack now on the floor. “But you probably guessed that.”

Maura smirked, and laughed softly. “I don’t like to guess. It puts people in awkward positions. But I would say there’s lots of evidence to that fact, yes.”

Jane laughed openly and then took her hat off. “Well, I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess you’re the hotshot doctor that they hired for our new pre-med pipeline.”

Maura raised a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow. “And why would you assume that?”

“You talk like a doctor. And you dress better than everyone else in this room. Real doctor-y,” Jane wagged her own eyebrows up and down.

Maura watched Jane’s crooked grin, rapt. “One…” she began slowly, “doctor-y is not a word. Two, what if I were independently wealthy and taught, oh say, English?”

Jane shrugged. “Words are made up. And are you? Independently wealthy?”

Maura’s mouth twitched in humor. “Yes,” she answered. Jane threw her head back in defeat. “But, I am also the doctor piloting the pre-med program here.”

Just like that, the slender column of Jane’s neck brought her head forward again. “Thought so!” she said. Just as she did, The man who Maura knew from his photo online as the school principal walked in. People started to hush as he made his way to the front podium. Even she turned her attention, until there was the distinct warmth of whispering by her ear that dismantled all other thoughts. Jane was speaking. “Well, Dr. Isles,” she responded, “welcome to Empire High, then.”

[sacklerscumrag]

Part III of III: Stay With Me Series

Clyde Logan X Female Reader

Summary: A Halloween party at Duck Tape and meeting Clyde’s family? This was going to be one hell of a night.

Warnings: fluff, smut, PIV sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex

Word Count: 2.2K

Part I Part II ao3

      Halloween was tomorrow and Boone County certainly seemed to look the part. The streets were decorated with dense foliage in stunning colors of crimson red and burnt orange with pumpkins on every corner. Your mind was still buzzing with memories from your date with Clyde the other night when all of a sudden, your phone buzzed, snapping you out of it. It was him.

     “Hey Clyde” your stomach jumped when you answered the phone.

     “Hey Darlin, how’s yer day goin?” the sounds of glasses being set down could be heard on the other side of the phone.

     “Not so bad, bookstores been busy with Halloween being so close”

     “That’s actually what I was callin bout. Wanna come to a Halloween party were throwin here at the bar tomorrow? We do it every year, it’s a lotta fun and everybody gets real dressed up n all” you could hear him clear his throat, it warmed your heart knowing he still got himself worked up over you.

     “That sounds fun, what time?”

     “Well I gotta be there earlier to set up n all that but ya can come around 10 if ya want. Is that alright?”

     “Of course, I’ll see you tomorrow then” you smirked while fiddling with the pages in your book.

     “See ya tomorrow beautiful” you hung up the phone when it hit you. You had less than one day to put together a costume. Shit.

                                Clydes POV

     Clyde let out a deep breath as he hung up the phone and continued drying empty whiskey glasses. No matter how many times he spoke to you, it never failed to make him nervous. He continued wiping down the bar, losing himself in his thoughts about you. He was sure you had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen and the way you crinkled your nose when you laughed just a little too hard, well that just about made him melt on the spot. And you smelled so good, god how did you smell so fucking delicious all the time, that was beyond him. His thoughts lingered before memories of the other night flooded his mind. The way it felt to have your body enveloped in his, the warmth of your skin under his palm, having you squirm in his lap while making those beautiful sounds was enough to make him cum in his pants.

     Clyde could feel himself getting hard in his jeans, quickly reaching down to adjust himself, thinking to himself dammit Clyde ya gotta get yer head on straight before Earl comes back in here n sees you. Quickly he grabbed a crate of decorations and headed to the entrance, a smile playing on his face at the thought of seeing you again tomorrow. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

                                    Readers POV

     Scrambling around your house, you finally figured out your costume for tonight. Putting together a red halter top, red shorts, some fishnet stockings, your favorite heel ankle boots along with some horns for your Devil costume. You grabbed your phone, laid out your outfit on your bed, and snapped a picture to send to Clyde.

Decided on a Devil for tomorrow night, too much?

Yer gonna be wearin that tomorrow? Jesus Darlin, ya tryin to give me a heart attack

Just wanted to make sure you liked it, but I guess I got my answer haha

Can’t wait to see it on ya. I’m gonna have to try to keep ma hands to myself, won’t make any promises though ;)

I hope you don’t :) see you tomorrow, goodnight Clyde

Goodnight beautiful ------------------------------------------------------------

     It seemed like everyone in Boone County was at Duck Tape tonight. As you walked into the bar, your eyes immediately found Clyde’s. He ducked under the side of the bar and walked over to you, cupping your face with both hands and bringing you into a searing kiss. He tasted like bourbon and burnt bacon, your favorite. “Hey baby, you look amazin” he said as he kept his forehead pressed against yours, your noses brushing against each other. You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked up at him.

“Hey, handsome”

          Clyde quickly released you as he saw more patrons making their way inside. He kissed your forehead before stepping away and into the bar. You sat on one end, watching as he moved so flawlessly along the bar, making everyone’s drink, greeting all the regulars, never missing a beat.

          “Well well well ya must be Clyde’s new little lady” startling you, a man sat down next to you.

          “Now Jimmy don’t go scarin the poor girl. Hi sweetie, I’m Mellie, Clyde’s sister and this here’s my idiot brother Jimmy” she reached out her hand to shake yours. Clyde being as busy as he was made his way to your corner of the bar.

          “There he is the man of the hour. When were ya gonna introduce us to yer new girl here?” Jimmy gestured to you with his beer bottle, teasing Clyde. You looked over at Clyde who was giving Jimmy a death stare if there ever was one. Placing your hand over his, you brought his attention back to you.

          “Can I get a drink baby?” you said trying to diffuse the situation. Clyde let out a breath, smiled, and nodded before walking over to where the bottles were sitting to make you your drink. You could hear Mellie and Jimmy giggling behind you, it was going to be a long night.

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

          You spent hours sitting with Mellie and Jimmy, laughing at all of their nonsense, hearing stories about Clyde when they were younger, the Logan siblings making you feel right at home. After all those stories and one too many beers, they decided to call it a night and head out. Even the regulars started to make their way home as the night dwindled. You and Clyde had been making eyes at each other all night, spacing out while Mellie told you her wild stories to look at Clyde. Watching him bartend was getting you more worked up than you cared to admit. Having to adjust yourself in your seat every so often, you could feel your arousal forming. Clyde thanked Earl for the help, and he waved to you as he left. Clyde put the last of the glasses away in the storage closet and made his way back out to you. You were standing facing the bar when you felt Clyde’s hands wrap around your waist.

          “Hey Darlin, you ready to head out?” he whispered in your ear as you turned in his arms and placed your hands on his chest. He looked down at you, eyes scanning your face with a smile.      “Not quite” you said as you cupped his face in your hands and brought your lips to his.

          “Darlin, are ya sure? Now?” you nodded, biting your lower lip, tiptoeing to bring your face closer to his.

          “I want you, Clyde Logan. Right here. Right now.” You whispered to him. That was all the encouragement he needed before his lips were on yours again. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him and you could already feel his erection pressing up against your thigh. He moved to take off your tank top disposing of it on the floor. The kiss grew hungrier as he walked you back towards the bar. Clyde cupped your ass, moving his hands under your thighs to hoist you up onto the bar top.

          Wrapping your legs around his waist, you moved to undo the buttons on his shirt, tearing it open, wanting to feel as much of him as possible. You were glad he decided not to wear an undershirt tonight as you ran your hands all over his sculpted chest down to the waistband of his jeans, working to undo his belt. Clyde placed hot, wet kisses on your neck, working his way to your shoulder. He hooked his thumbs on your shorts, sliding them down along with your fishnets. Reaching your hand around, you unclasped your bra, throwing it to the side while he continued his kisses.

          “Ya looked so fuckin hot tonight. I had to stop looking at ya to stop ma self from getting hard at the bar. Fuck you’re so beautiful” he said in between placing kisses on each breast, pinching one nipple between his fingers while taking his time nipping and biting the other one. His hand made its way down ghosting over your panties, feeling the wet spot that had already formed.

  “Mmm you’re dripping all over my bar baby” you moaned as he removed your underwear. Clyde swiped two fingers along your folds, collecting your slick, teasing you. The sensation making you shiver, your aching clit begging for attention.

     “Ya like that don’t you Darlin? Had ya cumin all over em the other night” you nod, trying your best to hold back your moans.

          “Please Clyde”

          “Tell me what ya need baby girl, ya gotta use yer words” continuing to run his fingers along your cunt, not quite touching where you needed it most.

     “Please Clyde I-I need you” you whimpered as he pushed two thick fingers inside, before pulling them back out.

“Gotta taste ya first baby” he motioned you to lay back, keeping one hand flat on your stomach and throwing your legs over his shoulder before burying his face in between your thighs.

You ran your hands through his hair, guiding him further into your core until you felt his nose press deliciously on your clit. The pressure making you buck your hips towards him. Clyde’s movements started to speed up as he focused on that sensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue working, teasing you while keeping his steady rhythm. Making you moan louder than you have before.

“Ya taste so good. So fuckin good baby girl”

          Your grip on his hair tightened when your orgasm crashed over you. Clyde lapped up all of your juices, taking his time until you came down from your high. You felt him pull away and step back to slide his jeans and briefs off in one move. His lips and beard glistening with your slick.

     “I have a condom in ma pocket”

     “Don’t bother. I’m on the pill” he smiled, kicking his pants and briefs to the side.

          His throbbing cock sprang free from the confines of his briefs, the tip slick with pre-cum. The size alone had you drooling at the sight. You immediately felt your cunt clench on nothing from just looking at him as Clyde made his way back to you. Placing your hand on his chest, you stopped him.

          “Lay down on the bar” you whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down Clyde’s spine, all the way to his cock. He looked at you, before climbing on the bar and laying down. You followed and straddled Clyde, your heated cunt grazing over his cock making it twitch. His eyes darkened, full of lust as he watched you coat him in your wetness before sinking on him slowly.

          Clyde’s mechanical hand rested on one of your thighs while his other hand cupped your ass as he watched you take all of him. The feeling of him filling you up, stretching you like never before almost being enough to bring you to your second orgasm of the night. You started to gyrate your hips, finding your rhythm, his cock hitting all sorts of new angles making you both cry out. His hands held on tight to your hips, guiding you as you rode him on the bar.

     “Clyde I’m so close. Fuck, you feel so good” you moaned when you felt him slide his thumb between both of your bodies to rub your throbbing clit.

          “C’mon baby. Gotta cum one more time fer me” he applied more pressure as you picked your pace. Both sensations sending you over the edge as you came hard on Clyde’s cock. Your cunt fluttering and pulsating squeezing him around him, squeezing him so tight. Panting your body fell flush on Clyde’s chest. He placed his hands under your thighs, pushing you slightly forward just enough for him to plant his feet on the bar top before he started pounding into you. The sounds of skin slapping filling the bar as he mercilessly fucked you at an agonizing pace. Clyde couldn’t take his eyes off of you, the way you were writhing in pleasure as your breasts bouncing with every thrust. He plunged into you one last time as far as he could go before reaching his own orgasm and filling you to the brim with his cum. He held you close, panting until he came down from his orgasm.

     Clyde caressed your hair, his chest rising and falling, covered in sweat while you both laid there, bodies satisfied and spent. You put your chin on Clyde’s chest looking up at him, his eyes dazed with pleasure and a goofy grin across his face as he looked back at you.

     “I love you Clyde, and I know it may be too early for that and now might not be the best time. And it’s okay if you don’t feel it too, I just had to say it before it drove me crazy”

     “I love you too Darlin. Have fer a while now, just didn’t want to scare ya off and say it too soon. But I do, I love you” you didn’t think twice before pushing yourself up to kiss him. Leaning your elbows on either side of his head, letting your fingers run through his hair as you kissed him deeply. You wanted to stay in this moment forever.

[harrysweasleys]

Saint-Like

Summary: Can you make one where the reader and Fred have been together since their 6th year (goblet of fire era) and now it's time to bring Harry to the Burrow and she goes with them although his protests, and she gets hit and loses something too like also an ear or so and she feels insecure especially at the wedding and when everything is safe she finally explains she is insecure and he comforts her?

Warnings: Blood, death, violence, anxiety, language

Word Count: 5k

A/N: This took me six hours, oh my goodness, So, incase you guys didn’t see my last post, I have a new account called @malfoyswheezes! Also, this isn’t my gif! I got it off of google. :)

ONE WEEK AGO 

“You know we’re gonna have to go see Harry, right?” Y/N asked Fred as the two of them helped Molly out in the garden, picking out the gnomes and plants that were unwanted, “We have to bring him here.”

Now that Voldemort was out for revenge, everyone knew Harry wasn’t exactly safe anywhere he decided to go. Arthur and Remus Lupin had decided that bringing Harry to the Weasley home was the safest bet, and so after Harry persuaded his aunt, uncle and cousin to move to safety, the Order would swoop in and safely bring him over.

“I know,” Fred nodded, wiping soot off of his forehead, “You can stay here and prepare for Harry’s arrival with mum and Ginny. Help out for the wedding and whatnot. It won’t be long.”

Y/N shook her head, “Like hell. I’m coming with you.”

She knew Fred was a strong enough wizard to handle any situation thrown his way, she didn’t doubt him in the slightest, but Harry was her friend too and she was dead set on guiding him to safety.

“No, you’re not,” Fred crossed his arms, looking down at her, “I get why you want to, but no.”

“You’re not my parent, Fred Weasley,” Y/N scoffed, “If I want to go, I’ll go. You’re not going to lock me in my room and tell me to sit still while you’re all out there risking your lives for someone I also happen to care a great deal about.”

Fred dropped his head, knowing that Y/N’s stubbornness was going to get the best of her. He had always wanted to make sure she was safe and out of harm’s way, but she constantly persuaded him to let her go straight into the line of fire. It had gotten worse since Voldemort’s return. Y/N only wanted to look after her friends, and the people she had grown to call her family.

“C’mon, Freddie,” she pouted her lip, knowing she’d crack him, “Let me come help.”

“Fine,” Fred sighed, “But at least stick by my side, yeah?”

“Promise.”

---

PRESENT

The Order stood around what used to be the Dursley’s living room, each about to drink some of the Polyjuice Potion that would turn them into Harry while Harry himself stood watching them all, nervous as hell about his friends turning into him. He was the one the Dark Lord wanted, after all.

“I can smell it from here,” Y/N gagged, tying her hair back in preparation for her transformation. After Fred and George took their sips, they passed it to her. She hesitated before taking a sip of the foul potion, already feeling her insides churning and twisting. She grimaced, clenching her fists as she felt herself transforming into an unfamiliar body, her hair shortening and her face becoming wider. 

She suddenly felt as if her tank top was too tight, and as she opened her eyes, noticed that she had indeed turned into the one and only Harry Potter.

“Wow! We’re identical!” Fred and George looked at each other, both looking like Harry as well.

“Not yet, you’re not,” Moody pointed to their clothing before tossing over a large garbage bag full of multiple items of clothing, all the same. They all walked over, picking up a shirt, sweater, and pair of pants. 

“Oh, Y/N, I’ve never been more attracted to you,” Fred — as Harry — smirked in her direction. She shook her head, a smile on her lips.

“Guess you better date Harry then,” she retaliated, crossing her arms over her now-flat chest. 

“By the looks of it, I already am,” Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She laughed, shrugging it off, not used to the image of Harry being so close to her. She knew it was Fred, but it was still weird. 

“Haven’t got anything more sporting, do you?” George eyed the brown pair of pants.

“Yeah, I don’t really fancy this colour,” Fred picked out a shirt and shook it off before putting it on.

Moody glared at the two, looking away as everyone started to change. Y/N took off her clothing, feeling awfully uncomfortable at the fact that she was no longer in her own body. It was her first, and hopefully last time, drinking Polyjuice. She changed into the shirt, sweater and pants before looking around and realizing she had no idea who was who. Everyone was just Harry. 

“Right then, we’re pairing off, each Potter will have their own protector,” Moody turned around once more to face the group, looking around and prepared to pair everyone off. 

Y/N, unsure of who she was next to at this point, grabbed a hand of one of the Harrys and decided he was going to be the one she’d take off with.

“My own brother,” Fred’s voice came from the other side of the room, eyes on Y/N’s hand intertwined with the Harry next to her.

“Whose hand am I holding?” she asked, looking at the person next to her.

“George, of course,” he grinned, “The better looking twin, if you ask me.”

“Well, right now you look like Harry so I wouldn’t be so sure,” she joked, taking her hand away from him.

“Thanks,” the real Harry’s voice came from somewhere amongst the group. You smiled at him, apologizing, and then turned to Fred, also apologizing for picking the wrong person.  

“Right. George and Y/N, Mundungus, you stick to me,” Moody glared around the room, “As for Harry—”

“Yes?” the entire room asked, each stopping their movements to look at Moody.

“The real Harry,” he rolled his eyes, but the real Harry came forward, “You’ll ride with Hagrid.”

As the chaos of getting dressed died down, Y/N walked over to Fred, “Sorry, Freddie. I know I promised I’d stick by your side, but we’ll be alright, right?”

Fred sighed, placing his hand on her shoulder, “Yeah, we’ll be alright. I’ve got dad, he knows what he’s doing. Wouldn’t be so sure about Georgie.”

“Hey,” George piped up, offence in his voice. 

She wanted to kiss him, but as he was Harry, she didn’t feel like she could, so she pulled him into a hug — ignoring Moody’s comment about ‘stupid sentiment’ — and told him she’d see him when they arrived at the Burrow.

The group made their way outside, careful not to be spotted by the neighbours as a large group of people who all looked identical — on broomsticks, at that — might raise suspicion. 

“This way, your highness,” George grabbed Y/N’s forearm and dragged her over to their brooms, trying to keep her from running off to Fred like she wanted to. She was worried that something might go wrong and she wouldn’t be with him when it did. She hated being apart from him. 

“Thanks, your majesty,” she laughed, mounting her broom next to George. He rolled his eyes at her and got on his. Y/N looked over to Fred once more, giving him a nod and a smile, which he retaliated, before looking forwards again and ready to take off.

Moody counted down from three, and the group took off. Despite the intensity in the air, Y/N smiled at the wind blowing into her face, not used to the fact that her long hair wasn’t whisking into her vision as she took off into the night sky. 

The beginning of the journey was uneventful, they had passed over London — Y/N pointed out all the buildings and landmarks to George — and the burrow was only getting closer and closer. 

“Blimey, what is that?” George’s voice caught her attention and she looked forwards, noticing that through the clouds, flashes of lightning seemed to be moving closer and closer to them. Rumbles of thunder shook her broom, causing her heart to catch in her throat. She took her want out of her waistband, gripping onto it tightly and preparing for the fight that was bound to happen.

As Y/N and George made their way into the clearing, wizards and witches on brooms were flying around all over the place, green and red blasts coming out of wands left and right. 

Death Eaters. 

Y/N tried looking around to see if any other Harrys were in the area, but the constant ‘whoosh’ of a passing broom made her lose her focus. Bodies were flying and falling everywhere, it was nearly impossible to make out anyone’s faces. She stuck by George, the two of them trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do.

“Avada Kedavra!” she turned to her left, spotting a grubby looking wizard pointing their wand to Moody, who caught the full blast, falling off of his broom, lifeless.

“NO!” Y/N wanted to go catch him, but she knew he was gone. His coat flailed as he continued falling, disappearing into the thick cloud below him. 

“Come on, Y/N,” George waved his hand, signalling her to follow him. She did as she was told, ducking down as spells passed over her head. George swerved around the Death Eaters, Y/N in tow and trying her best to keep an eye out for the others. 

“Stupefy!”

A flash of light came barrelling into her vision, and within a second, she found herself falling. She was no longer on her broom, the lights of the city below seemingly getting closer and closer. She was falling at a much quicker pace then it seemed. She could feel the wet clouds surrounding her as she continued on to her eventual death. 

This wasn’t how she wanted to go. 

She closed her eyes, the brisk wind numbing her fingers and nose.

“Y/N!” George swooped down below her, catching her hand and pulling her aboard his broom. She wasn’t even thinking, it had all happened so quickly. She wasn’t dying anymore, she was safe. George had saved her. 

She wrapped her arms around his waist, but kept her wand ready to use. 

“Thanks, Georgie,” Y/N shouted to him, keeping her eyes focused on her surroundings, grateful beyond words that George caught her before she could plummet to her death. 

"Stupefy!” she pointed her wand at a passing Death Eater, knocking him off his broom and instead, sending him plummeting down to the solid ground below. 

“Expelliarmus!” she pointed her wand once more, missing completely as she was then blocked by a large cloud which cut off her view from the Death Eater she had her eye on. 

It felt as if they were out of harm’s way. No one was around them, and the clouds were too thick to be spotted. She wanted to go back and personally attack each and every single one of Voldemort’s goons, but she knew that their mission was to get Harry safely to the burrow. She didn’t even know where Harry and Hagrid were. 

As the cloud cleared and a few more Death Eaters came into view, that’s when she knew it was too late. A blinding flash of light hit her and George from the left, whizzing right past both of their heads, and pain flooded throughout her entire body. 

“Ah, shit,” she groaned, noticing that George had been hit with the same curse. He was bleeding profusely from the left side of his head, his eyes screwed shut as he gripped the broom with white knuckles.

“Get to the burrow,” Y/N winced, placing her left hand over the bleeding ear, the pain becoming worse by the passing second. The grey sweater was starting to become stained red, and she could feel it matting her hair down to her skin. 

George nodded, and Y/N tried her best to remove her sweater and place it against his head, helping him out as he was too busy flying to stop the blood flow. He couldn’t lose too much blood or he’d be in danger. 

She managed to do so, and she ripped it in half using one hand and her teeth, holding one half to George’s head and the others to hers, leaning it against her shoulder and tilting her head to the side, putting as much pressure as she could.

She could see her vision becoming fuzzier, so much that she didn’t even notice the Polyjuice potion wearing off. Her hair became longer, she could feel it getting caught in the blood, and she could see her fingers become thinner, still covered in blood. 

As George lowered the broom, the burrow came into sight. The two of them were too focused on the pain to notice if anyone else had arrived. 

Fred was going to freak out when he found out both his twin and girlfriend had been attacked. 

George landed the broom and the two of them stumbled off, Molly noticing them immediately and rushing over.

Y/N could swear she saw Harry and Hagrid, but her vision felt too blurry for her to be sure. Molly and Ginny grabbed Y/N and George, ushering them inside to tend to their matched wounds. 

“How are you feeling? How many fingers am I holding?” Molly asked as she placed Y/N down on the dingy couch next to George, the two of them in the same state. 

“Like my brain is oozing out my ear,” Y/N’s grin turning into a wince as Molly placed a wet towel to the side of her head, “Where’s Fred?”

“He’s not back yet,” Ginny said from over on your right where she was tending to George’s ear. 

A loud bang sounded from outside, and within seconds, Lupin came rushing in the front door to check on who was already here. He noticed Y/N and George on the couch, bloodied, but turned his attention to Harry real quick. 

Harry got the wind knocked out of him as Lupin pushed him up against the fireplace, asking him personal questions to see if it was the real him. Y/N couldn’t hear the questions really well, her mind too focused on the pain and whether Fred was alright. 

“You good, Georgie?” she mumbled turning to face him, trying her best to smile.

“Yeah, you?” his eyes looked heavy, but he seemed in a good mood despite the pain he was also in. 

Y/N was about to answer but Lupin’s words caught her off guard, “We’ve been betrayed. Voldemort knew we were being moved tonight. I had to make sure you weren’t an imposter.”

Y/N shared a look with Molly, everyone in the house looking more worried than before, guessing who the imposter might have been. Another whooshing sound was heard from outside, and Lupin rushed out to check whoever had arrived. 

As Lupin rushed out, Y/N tried to squint and see through the window, noticing that Shacklebolt and Lupin were now pointing wands at one another, quizzing the other to make sure they were both legit. But there was still no Fred in sight. 

More whooshing sounds signalled that more and more groups were arriving.

Please be okay, Fred, please be okay.

Y/N felt George tap her on the wrist, “It’s Fred, he’s fine. You think he’d go off and die when he’s still got you? Nah.”

Y/N giggled slightly, letting her head fall back on the couch, “Sorry ‘bout the couch, Mrs Weasley.” The tattered orange couch was getting stained with both their bloods, and that was hard to wash out. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it dear,” she smiled at you before walking over to check on George. 

“Where are George and Y/N?” Y/N’s eyes widened as she heard Arthur’s faint voice outside, but there was no response to his question. Footsteps got louder outside the door, and within a moment, Fred appeared in the entrance. 

His heart stopped at the sight of the two of them injured on the couch. Y/N had to strongly resist the urge to jump into his arms and never let go, but her body felt weaker than it had ever felt before. 

His face paled and he rushed over to the two of them, placing a hand on both of their knees. 

“Y/N — Georgie, how are you two feeling? What happened?” he asked, his voice shaky. 

“Reckon it was Sectumsempra,” Y/N spoke up, lifting her head off the couch and smiling down at him, “I feel like a milllion Galleons.”

Fred smiled at her, relief on his face, “What about you, Georgie?”

“Saint-like,” George muttered. 

Fred furrowed hie eyebrows, “Come again?”

“Saint-like. Get it? I’m holy, Fred,” George pointed to his missing ear, “So is she. We now have a combined two ears.”

Y/N laughed, leaning her head back on the couch. Whatever Molly had pressed up against her ear had helped with the pain, and made her incredibly drowsy. 

“A whole wide world of ear related humour and you go for ‘I’m holy’ — that’s pathetic,” Fred chuckled, leaning his head against Y/N’s knee. She lifted her hand and ran it through Fred’s hair, letting him know she was okay. 

“Reckon I’m still better looking than you,” George joked, letting his eyes close. 

Y/N giggled once more, turning her attention to Bill, who walked into the room with a gloomy expression.

“Mad-Eye’s dead,” he said slowly, looking at Lupin. Y/N thought back to watching Moody fall off of his broom and her heart sunk even further.

The room fell silent. Harry clenched his jaw, and Lupin sat down, his head in his hands, tugging at his hair in frustration. Y/N knew him and Moody had grown to become good friends, she couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling. 

Bill continued on, talking about how Mundungus had taken off after seeing Voldemort, and Y/N’s heart sank even further. The situation had somehow felt so much more real than it did an hour ago. She could see the guilt on Harry’s face. Of course he was blaming himself, he always did. 

“Well,” Arthur spoke up, startling Y/N, “we should all get cleaned up and go to bed. Best not to dwell.”

The group murmured in agreement, everyone going their separate ways without talking to each other. Fred picked his head up and looked at the two of them on the couch. 

“Do you guys need anything?” he asked, eyes darting over to the kitchen, “Water? Tea? Food?”

“I’d like my ear back,” Y/N smirked, making Fred shake his head. 

“I second that,” George responded, laughter in his voice. 

“You guys really are something,” Fred muttered, sitting up and walking over to get them both some water. 

Y/N turned to face him, “Learned from you, my love.”

Fred felt his cheeks flush at the name, walking back over to them with two full glasses of cold water. George downed his instantly, but Y/N didn’t touch hers. She could feel the pain creeping up her neck, she didn’t feel like drinking and making it worse. She noticed Fred’s eyes scanning the gash on her head, and insecurity suddenly flowed over her body. 

She hadn’t thought about the long term effects. She’d probably have damage to her hearing, and the left side of her head would never really look normal again. She lifted the face cloth and held it against the side of her head, preventing Fred from looking at it. The last thing she wanted was for him to think of her as weak, that she couldn’t handle a small battle wound. 

Molly finished wrapping up George’s head with a bandage, making sure it was on tight so he would be able to sleep without worrying about bleeding everywhere. He bid the two goodnight and took off to his room, a stumble in his step.

Molly started working on bandaging up Y/N, being careful not to cause too much pain. Fred held her hand, letting her squeeze it when the pain became too much. Nearly ten minutes later, Y/N’s head was securely wrapped and the pain had slowly start to become a dull throb. 

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley,” Y/N gave a tired smile, and Molly placed a hand gently on her shoulder, saying goodnight and taking off to bed. 

Fred finally got up off the floor and sat on her right, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him, placing kisses all over the non-bloody side of her face. 

“You scared the bloody hell out of me,” he said between kisses, causing her to giggle at the ticklish feeling. 

Y/N leaned into his touch, “Sorry, Freddie. George did save my life though.”

“And that’s why I was worried about you coming on this mission,” he stopped kissing her face and looked at her seriously. It was rare he showed his serious side around her, the two were usually joking around, so she knew he wasn’t in the joking mood right now. 

“I can handle myself,” she said, suddenly feeling defensive. She didn’t want to be belittled, especially not by Fred. 

“I know you can, love, but I can’t always look after you when we’re doing things like this and I hate it,” he said softly, running his fingers through her hair. 

She wanted to pull away and continue to argue, but she couldn’t find the energy, “Fred, I went through the same schooling as you. We’re the same age. I’m a good witch, I can’t just sit back quietly and never use my abilities.”

“I’m not saying you should, I just get so worried when you willingly go out there and risk your life,” he tried reasoning with her, but she took it personally. She knew he worried, so did she, but worry wasn’t a reason to sit back and live life in hiding.

“What? And I don’t get worried when you do the same?” she pressed on, ignoring how heavy her eyelids were feeling. 

“Love, just go to sleep,” he pressed another gentle kiss on her jaw, resting his head against the back of the couch. Sudden exhaustion wiped over her and she felt herself dozing off.

She didn’t remember if she had continued to speak — all she knew was that she dreamt of green flashes and distant screams. 

---

The next few days before the wedding, Y/N’s insecurities about her ear got bigger and bigger. While George made jokes and stuck things in the new hole on the side of his head, Y/N covered it with bandages and her hair every chance she could get. She was growing sick of people asking her how she was feeling, and was starting to get fed up of Fred doing everything for her. She appreciated his help — she really lacked energy — but she didn’t want to feel useless. She didn’t want people to see her as weaker because she had been hit with a curse. 

She had spent the last few days helping Molly with gardening, preparing flowers and food for Bill and Fleur’s wedding that was happening tomorrow. Cooking had helped take Y/N’s mind off her injury as Molly was too stressed about making everything perfect to pester her about how she was feeling every second of the day. 

The boys were outside, constructing the gigantic white tent that would be covering nearly a hundred people at this time tomorrow. Ginny and Hermione were out finding dresses — Y/N passed up on going to avoid people staring at her — but they promised they’d pick up one for her as well. 

As dark clouds swarmed in and rain drops began falling, the men came indoors to warm up and take a break, crashing on the couch and armchairs in the living room.

Y/N pulled the pies out of the oven and placed them next to the open window to cool down, jumping out of her skin when Fred’s arms wrapped around her waist. 

“Fred! I was carrying hot stuff,” Y/N whacked his arm, squealing once he picked her up off the ground.

“Now I’m carrying hot stuff,” he smirked, placing her back down and kissing her forehead. Y/N was lucky that the dark clouds took away some of the light in the room as her cheeks flushed red at his compliment.

“How’s the ear?” he asked, looking over the bandage quickly.

“Still gone,” she muttered, turning away from him. He seemed to sense she didn’t want to talk about it so he dropped the subject, complimenting how wonderful it smelled in the house. 

He had been worried about her lately, he knew that it bothered her more than she let on. 

On the other hand, Y/N was thankful for the change in topic as everyone barrelled into the kitchen to see what was smelling so nice. She had to keep swatting at Ron’s hand so he wouldn’t eat everything. 

“I’m starving, making a massive tent is hard work,” he’d repeat to her each time she scolded him. 

The wedding preparations seemed to all be right on schedule, and Bill and Fleur were ecstatic. 

---

The day of the wedding rolled around and the dim sunlight had been just the weather Fleur wanted. There was a warm summer breeze that flowed through the air as the guys were back outside, lifting the tent and doing last minute preparations. 

Y/N fell in love with the yellow dress Hermione and Ginny had picked out. It was flowy and light, perfect for the warmth outside. She had gotten dressed rather quickly, but her main struggle was her hair. She wanted to have it up and out of the way incase she did some dancing, but as soon as it was tied, her bandaged ear was on full display. 

She stared at herself in the mirror, her face showing no signs of excitement. She let her hair fall loose, the messy curls having no sort of rhythm. The yellow dress, despite being gorgeous, felt far too cheerful for how she was really feeling.

A knock at the door made her jump out of her skin, “Come in!”

She adjusted her hair, covering up her ear and turning to face the person who walked in. Fred, donned in a waistcoat that matched her dress, wore a gentle smile on his face as he walked over to her.

“Hi, love,” he wrapped his arms around her waist, “You look amazing. Like a Filibuster Firework.”

“Is that the best compliment you got?” she giggled, poking him in the side. 

“You know I love Filibuster Fireworks,” he said, a small smirk on his lips, “But I thought you were tying your hair up, no?”

She reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her right ear, “Oh — yeah, I changed my mind.”

“Why?” he asked, twirling a strand around his finger, “Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

She shrugged, feeling awkward, “Dunno, just through it suited the dress better, I guess.”

Fred could tell she wasn’t being entirely truthful, so he dropped his hand from her hair and placed it on the left side of her face, “Are you hiding your ear?”

Y/N’s head snapped up to look at him, her mouth hanging open slightly. Yes, she had been hoping to hide it, but she thought she was being a little more sly about it.

“You’re a terrible liar, love,” Fred’s other hand rubbed up and down her arm, goosebumps rising under his touch. 

She knew he’d catch on. She had always told him about her insecurities and he always made her feel better. Something felt different this time, it felt more permanent, so she figured telling him wouldn’t really have helped her. But as he stood there, gazing into her eyes with concern and love, she felt like an idiot for not telling him. 

“Yeah,” she whispered, looking back down to her feet. 

Fred placed his hand under her chin and lifted her head to look at him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were glossy. 

“There’s no reason to be insecure about it,” he told her, “First of all, no one is judging you. Secondly, it’s cool as hell that you have a battle scar. I didn’t get any, I’m the lame one.” Y/N giggled, letting a tear streak down her cheek before she wiped it away quickly. 

“I’m serious,” his voice was soft, “Don’t hide it. I think it’s awesome. Sure, I’d have preferred it didn’t happen, but it’s still cool. Besides, you can always make up some epic story about how you got it.”

“I think the real story is epic enough,” Y/N chuckled, leaning her head against Fred’s chest. 

He nodded, “Yeah, that’s true. Look, please don’t spend the rest of the evening trying to hide it. I get to show off that my girlfriend’s a badass.”

He pressed another gentle kiss to her temple and pulled away, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking her up and down, “Now, shall we get downstairs, my lady?”

“Let’s,” Y/N grinned, locking her arm with his. The two made their way downstairs, Y/N feeling much better about her appearance thanks to Fred. She got to the bottom, smiling kindly at Arthur and George who were talking in the kitchen.

“Hey, my other half,” George winked at her, causing her to chuckle and toss her hair over her shoulder, pointing to her ear and nodding.

“Hey, she’s my other half,” Fred pouted, gripping her shoulder and pulling her closer to him. George laughed, noticing that everyone was starting to sit down outside. 

“We should get out there,” he nodded towards the door and the four of them made their way outside. Y/N linked her hand in Fred’s and the pair took their seats next to the rest of his family. 

Every now and then, Fred would lean over and whisper in her ear, telling her how gorgeous she was. She’d blush every time, hiding her face in her hair and nudging him. 

Although it would take some time getting used to, she knew that with Fred by her side, she’d be able to get through it. After all, he knew how to cheer her up no matter what the situation. And she was the luckiest woman alive. 

[amitieos]

appearance headcanons

bold where applicable; italicize where situationally relevant. add as needed.

body.

long legs. short legs. average legs. slender thighs. thick thighs. muscular thighs. skinny arms. soft arms. muscular arms*. toned stomach. flat stomach. flabby stomach. soft stomach. six pack. beer belly. lean frame. slender frame. muscular frame. voluptuous frame. petite frame. lanky frame. short nails. long nails. manicured nails. dirty nails. flat butt. toned butt. bubble butt. thick butt. small waist. thick waist. narrow hips. average hips. wide hips. big feet. average feet. small feet. slender feet. calloused feet. calloused hands. soft hands. big hands. average hands. small hands. long fingers. short fingers. average fingers. broad shoulders. underweight. average weight. overweight.**

height.

shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm to 150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. taller than 2 m.

skin.

pale. fair. rosy. olive. dark. tanned. blotchy. smooth. acne. dry. greasy. freckled. scarred.

eyes.

small. large. average. grey. brown. black. blue. red. pink. green. gold. hazel. doe-eyed. almond. round. close-set. wide-set. deep-set. squinty. monolid. heavy eyelids. upturned. downturned.

hair.

thin. thick. fine. normal. greasy. dry. soft. shiny. curly. frizzy. wild. unruly. straight. smooth. wavy. floppy. cropped. pixie cut. afro. short. shoulder length. back length. waist length. floor length. buzz cut. bald. jaw length. mohawk. undercut. white. platinum blonde. golden blonde. dirty blonde. ombre. light brown. mouse brown. chestnut brown.*** golden brown. chocolate brown. dark brown. slate. jet black. ginger. auburn. unnatural colour (green). streaked. thin eyebrows. average eyebrows. thick eyebrows. no eyebrows.

tattoos / piercings.

full sleeve. thigh tattoo****. shin tattoo. wrist tattoo****. lower back tattoo. hip tattoo. hand / finger tattoo. foot tattoo. neck tattoo. face tattoo. chest tattoo. one tattoo. a few here and there****. multiple. no tattoo. monroe piercing. nose piercing****. septum. nipple piercing. genital piercing. industrial piercings. earlobe piercing(s). prince albert piercing. eyebrow piercing. tongue piercing. lip piercing. tragus piercing. angel bites. labret. gauges. navel piercing. inverse navel piercing. cheek piercing. smiley. nape piercings. no piercings.

cosmetics.

light eyeliner. heavy eyeliner. cat eyes. mascara. fake eyelashes. matte lipstick. regular lipstick. lip gloss. chapstick. red lips. pink lips. dark lips. bronzer. highlighter. eyeshadow. neutral eyeshadow. smokey eyes. colourful eyeshadow. blush. lip liner. light contouring. heavy contouring. powder. matte foundation. shiny foundation. concealer. wears makeup regularly.***** wears it from time to time. never wears makeup.

scent.

floral. fruity. perfumes. aftershave. cocoa. moisturizer. natural soap. shampoo. cigarettes. leather. sweat. food. incense. marijuana. cologne. whiskey. wine. fried food. blood. fire. metal. rain. grass. raw wood. ocean. autumn leaves. baked bread. smoke. campfire. lavender. trees. musk. rose. gingerbread. peppermint. oak. honey. lemon. vanilla. coffee. cake. hyde.

clothes/aesthetic. (includes modern au) ******

masculine. feminine. androgynous. jeans. tight pants. cargo pants. overknee socks. tights. leggings. yoga pants. miniskirt. loose skirt. form fitting dress. cardigans. blouse. long-sleeved shirt. button up shirt. graphic shirt. T-shirt. sports shirt. sweatpants. tank top. cut off shirt. designer. high street. online stores. thrift. lingerie. maxi dress. sundress. suit and tie. cocktail dress. high slit dress. scarves. loose clothing. tight clothing. jean shorts. sweater. sweater vest. khaki pants. hoodie. harem pants. kimono. basketball shorts. boxers. briefs. thong. hotpants. hipster panties. bra. sports bra. crop top. corset. leotard. polka dots. stripes. glitter. cotton. silk. lace. leather. velvet. chemise. patterns. florals. neon colours. pastels. neutral colours. black. dark colours. warm colours. faux fur.

shoes.

sneakers. slip-ons. flats. slippers. sandals. high heels. kitten heels. ankle boots. combat boots. boots. knee-high boots. platforms. stripper heels. bare feet. loafers *elincia’s arms are more toned than outright muscular. she took up horse and pegasus riding from a young age, but sword play was much later and more a passing hobby, until it became a necessity. her arms were soft but hover inbetween that and muscular these days. **lies somewhere between the two - a little closer to the latter except in times of war, were rationing and training take precedent. overweight sounds negative by nature but elincia is rounder and heavier than average in peace time and completely unashamed, so as her people also have plenty, she will never feel guilty for indulging in the prosperity said peace brings. 

*** about the same shade. but obviously... green.

**** only relevant to more modern aus, however, if crimea has tattooing available, she celebrates her 20th birthday by getting a pegasus tattoo under her left shoulder

***** tends to only ever wear light makeup on occasion in her youth. following her ascention to the throne she wears make up regularly but typically only wears heavier make up for balls and other formal events.

****** tends to only wear things like cocktail dresses/shorts in a modern au. prefers loose clothing either way but her fashion sense will change a little depending on setting

[mrs-takami-keigo]

Get on you knees and Beg

Pairing: SUB!Bakugou/ Villain!Reader

Warnings: Explict, 18+

Word Count: 2k (I honestly tried to not make it this long)

Note: Bakugou is aged up to his 20’s for this

‘I’m on my way, be ready for me.’ It’s been five minuets since Bakugou got that text. He just got back from the gym and when you said you were on your way that meant he had only ten minutes to get ready. Cussing under his breath, the young man pulled his white tank top over his head as he made his way to the bathroom for a quick shower. Sliding his shorts and underwear off Bakugou jumped into the hot shower. He knew he needed to move fast; he grabbed the shower gel you bought him because you said the smell of his regular one was off putting. He didn’t care for the scent, but he also didn’t want to make you angry. It frustrated the hero, he was Ground fucking Zero, but there was something about you. The way you had his body ache for even just the slightest touch or even for your attention. He was never allowed to text you first, he had to wait for you. There were times when he would go weeks without hearing from you. The only reason he knew you weren’t dead or captured was by reading the reports all the heroes who encountered you made.  

Finishing washing his body, Bakugou stepped out of the shower wrapping a towel around his waist. Once he got in his room, he looked at the time on his phone. ‘Shit, it’s been almost fifteen minuets already.’ Quickly grabbing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white V-neck shirt he got dressed as fast as he could. It was a good sign you hadn’t texted him yet, he knew you wouldn’t wait more than two minuets for him to open the door.

Once he was finally done getting dressed, he made his way to the living room only to see his front door wide open. Slowly walking to the door, he grabbed the handle shutting it. He doesn’t know how he knew but he knew it was you that opened his locked door. Turning around the young hero stalked to the kitchen where he saw one black thigh high boot crossed over the other. Following those legs, he was met with you sitting at his kitchen table. Your red leather jacket hung over the back of the wooden chair, your pointer finger playing with the rim of the glass you used to pour yourself a glass of wine.

“Katsuki~,” You said his name in a sing song voice. “What is my rule number five?” You looked away from the glass to look at Bakugo. He had a look of horror on his face, you watched as his Adams apple moved when he took a gulp.

“When you say be ready, I should be ready.” His voice was soft but still had his gruffness to it. Nodding your head, you uncrossed your legs standing up walking towards the man.

“And were you ready Katsuki?” You were so close to him now, the smell of the shower gel you got him hit your nose. Placing a hand on his chiseled chest you looked up at him, watching as he shook his head. “No you weren’t. That’s not like you, so I’ll let it pass this one time.” Turning your back to him, you walked towards the table, heels clicking against the tiled floor.

The breath Bakugou was holding escaped his lips. “I just came back from the gym when you texted me so- “

Snapping your neck to look at him you said, “Don’t make excuses, just don’t let it happen again.” Leaning against the table you crossed your arms across your white button-down clad chest. “Come over here.”

Walking towards you, your eyes never left his crimson colored ones. You couldn’t lie this man was beyond sexy, his body was fit and muscular but not too much. The aura around him when he entered a room is what caught your attention. His eyes would send chills down your body, but you would never tell him that. If it weren’t for that faithful robbery you would have never met the beautiful man before you. When he was finally close enough you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, “Kiss me.”

Without any hesitation he did, pushing his body flesh against yours forcing you to lean back. You felt his strong arms wrap around your waist as you opened your mouth to let his tongue in. His kisses were always full of passion and want, it always made you think what he was capable of if you let him have control. Taking your hands you ran them up his shoulders and around his neck, playing with the hair that was at the nape of it. His hands traveled down, grabbing a hold of your ass making sure you could feel his erection through your jeans. You moaned into the kiss as acknowledgement to his friend but tonight was about your release.

Pulling away from him you opened your eyes, Bakugou tried to lean back in to resume kissing you but you put your hand up making him kiss that instead of those lips like he wanted to. Sliding past him you took a seat on the chair you had originally sat in. Leaning back, you raised your right leg in the air letting the bottom of your shoe rest on his stomach.

“Take my boots off.” You could see him hesitate for a second. “Are you disobeying me Katsuki?” You dug your heel a little into his stomach making him growl. A smile grazed your lips when he started to unzip the boot before pulling it off your leg, Bakugou did the same with the other foot.

“See that wasn’t so bad now was it?” Standing back up you stood in front of him. Slowly you grabbed him by the waist bringing him closer to you. His was relatively small making it easy from you to wrap an arm around it. Bakugou was only a little bit taller than you making it easy for you to reach his neck. Giving his thick neck feather light touches you felt his body shiver with each kiss. As you went to kiss the corner of his mouth, he let out a small whine.

“Take off my pants Katsuki I want to give you a reward for being so good.” He looked down at you as you took a slight step back so he could unbutton your jeans. His thick fingers soon made work of your button and zipper before sliding his thumb in the hem of your jeans and panties. With a little bit of force, he helped the garments over your hips sliding them down your legs. Using his shoulders to keep you steady, you picked one leg up at a time to get them off your body. Standing there with nothing on your lower half it took everything in Bakugou to not slam you on the table to have his way with you.

“Get on your knees.” Taken out of his thoughts Bakugou looked up at you.

“Wha-“ He was about to stand up but you hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“On your knees now Katsuki, you know I hate to repeat myself.” You watched as the reluctant hero got on his knees for you. Just the sight of him on his knee for you made your pussy throb. Sitting in the chair like you had before you spread you legs open allowing him full view of your wet pussy.

Licking his lips Bakugou looked up at you as if to ask for permission. Nodding your head, You felt the chair move towards him in rapid speed. Grabbing your legs Bakugou threw them over his shoulders before giving you wet cavern a long ick of his hot tongue.

“Fuck Kastuki do it again.”

Diving back in Bakugou let his tongue run over your hardened clit making you arch your back. He would go from long languid strokes to flicks to sucking, never in the same order making you moan out his name every time he would give you clit a hard lick or a hard suck. Going even further down you felt Bakugou poke his stiff tongue inside of you making your toes curl.

“Keep that up and your gonna make me cum baby boy.” And that was all the praise he needed to hear from you.

He knew it was wrong to feel this way about you, but he couldn't help it. You were like a cold glass of fine wine, sweet and bitter at the same time. His throat would go dry just by the sound of his name rolling off your lips as he gripped those thighs that he loved so much. He groaned when you gripped his hair, forcing his face deeper into your wet pussy.  

Your face was engraved in his mind as he watched you cum in his mouth. Eyes rolling in the back of your head, mouth wide open with those sweet sweet moans he loved hearing come from you. Bakugou could feel the thighs that were wrapped around his shoulders as they began to shake when your orgasm hit you. He whimpered as the hand in his hair gripped harder, pulling out some strands he was sure of it. Bakugou made sure to lick up every drop of you knowing how much you hate when he leaves messes behind. The circumstances of this whole situation was so wrong but felt so right. You pushed him from you with your foot, leaving him to fall on his backside in the middle of his kitchen.

“Thanks hero, you always were my favorite pet.” Reaching a hand out you ruffled your hand through Bakugou’s blond hair. Bending down you went to the discarded panties and jeans off the floor. Sliding them back on as he watched you from the floor. Crimson eyes followed your every move, as you jumped to get those tight jeans over your ass. Straightening up your white shirt you looked at the man on the floor. Bakugou’s face was flushed, sweat forming right above his brow and you could see some the glint of your cum on his chin. Walking over to him you squatted down in front of him.

“Looks like you got something to take care of no?” He felt your hand grab his hard on through his sweats. Bakugou threw his head back and moaned as he felt your nimble finger add pressure to is aching erection. With a firm grasp you grabbed his jaw, making him look you in the eyes. His eyes mirrored yours, dark and full of lust. Bringing his lips close to your own you watched as his chest started to move faster, looking back at his face Bakugou’s lips were parted shaky breaths fell from them. You took a deep inhale and exhaled letting your breath ghost over his lips, the young hero whimpered, he wanted to lean in and kiss those plump lips he loved but knew not to.

“You're always such a good boy.” Finally leaning you pressed your lips against his, Bakugou opened his mouth letting you run your tongue in his, dominating him. You even had to admit your favorite thing about him was that skillful mouth, whether it be when he threw smart remarks at you or when he had you cumming in minutes. Pulling away you caught your breath, he always somehow did that to you.

Standing up you walked back to the chair you had been sitting on before, grabbing your red leather jacket. “I’m leaving, I've already been here longer than I should have.” Without a second glance you walked over to his front door, leaving him still on the floor watching your retreating back. He didn't get up until he heard the door shut behind you. Slowly rising to his feet, Bakugou, walked to his living room where he plopped down on the couch. He laid back and let his right arm cross in front of his face covering his eyes while his left hung off the furniture.

“What is wrong with you?!” He hissed in a low whisper hoping to not wake up Kirishima in the next room, thankfully he was a hard sleeper. He knew he shouldn't be doing this with you. He knew he shouldn't be sleeping with a Villain, but he couldn't help it. He wanted you, he wanted ever single bit of you. At this point he didn’t care about you being a villain, some thing about you made him crazy.

 “Fuck!” He hit the back of the couch in frustartion. He set himself up for this and he knew it.

=========================================================

Tag list: @lady-bakuhoe, @heyybrittannia, @yaoyorozuwrites, @redbeanteax, @dee-madwriter, @lildreamer93 @kittygonyan, @marilla-eldriana​