#it's just so delicious to me you know? as a writer and reader

[zara-renata]

currently vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass bc of your new caleb fic. like oh my god i need to be held so bad bc the YEARNING OH MY GOD. you are so so good at writing the tension (sexual and not) between these two characters. reader’s longing is so clearly an aching wound that’s been festering for far too long and caleb is both treating it and also making it worse. i loved the bits where we got to see in his head especially at the end where u told us that the meeting was no random coincidence but instead a test of the reader’s reaction. that’s so good, reader’s feelings felt so visceral and the way that they pretty much only say caleb’s name as the entirety of their dialogue is the perfect touch. i loved the unveiling of caleb’s mechanical augmentation and how tender it was and the mention of caleb’s blush. it shows how reader’s feelings still have the capacity to surprise him or lay bare his own want for her even as he is carefully trying to control every aspect of their reunion. i’ve never read the little prince but the references were so cool and tbh everything u sprinkled it from their childhood was so well placed. the nightmares that reader has had and how caleb comforted them, how they were both longing for more but never crossed the line. it’s so delicious and if im honest every mention of caleb’s body had me wound up bc his design is so attractive but the way that the reader described him was practically body worship it was so good. thank u for mentioning his happy trail and his hairy arms i needed that 😭 this line was probably my favorite bc the (un)subtle dominance and possessiveness of the first half had me gripped by the neck i swear: “resting your clasped hands on his big thigh as he drives one-handed, relaxed.” it’s so domestic but clashes so hard with the actual context of the scene. i love how they settle into these rhythms with each other bc they know each other so intimately even tho they’ve never crossed that romantic/sexual line. and god when the fic switched to caleb’s perspective at the end and he was ignoring how hard he was i literally shoved my fist in my mouth. the restraint!!! the longing!!! the want!!!! i feel insane. and of course the finger in the mouth made my brain short circuit. it’s so lifestyle dom of caleb, and the mention of choking reader lightly just to bruise her for others to see and for them both to enjoy. i need to be locked up in a cage and released only on january 22nd bc idk how im gonna wait patiently for caleb now. (last thing is that the mention of the choking/hand on her throat really crystallized for me what caleb’s favorite position probably is but let me not say right now or i might blow up) but thank u thank u thank u for this fic. every day i wish infold was on here ready to hire u to write out the lore for sylus and now i have u to thank for wonderful and intriguing caleb characterization

Okay so I've read this comment multiple times, especially now as I'm polishing the second part and am having serious doubts about whether it will ever see the light of day because it's A Lot, and I think will be a turn off for a lot of people because it backtracks in time to their growing up together. So thank you for all the kind things you point out about part 1, it's really encouraging because i have been putting in so much thought into this version of the calebmc character dynamics with what we now know about him. he's clearly manipulative, possessive, two-faced, dangerous, suffered from guilt for so long about how much he wanted her, his feelings for her, which caused him emotional turmoil, shame and self-recrimination before he died, but because he's a main LI and this is a romance game, I firmly believe he genuinely loves and cares for mc. like all the LIs, the writers will play up his possessive, protective, 'villain' quirks in the memories but never have him cross the line into truly toxic territory. More under the cut because this became a novel.

So I want to take these characteristics and really want to explore the relationship dynamics and how deeply these two would have affected each other from the moment they met/were brought under the same roof. I love your description of 'reader’s longing is so clearly an aching wound that’s been festering for far too long and caleb is both treating it and also making it worse.," because that's exactly how I imagine it for her throughout her youth and then during his death. and it's clear from the PVs of Caleb that he has felt the same, lamenting how he had to 'endure, day after day, suffocating." with teenage emotions, that house was probably a powder keg of high-key feelings and they never let themselves act on them. that's amazing to me.

Because he knows MC inside and out, I imagine him being much more assertive in interacting with her (kind of what you described as a lifestyle dom, even though I think BDSM terms can sometimes be so limiting when discussing human relationships). but like, for example, to contrast with sylus (who is embodiment of love, he is not lying when he says that no love is purer than his), he always is so careful to make sure he has mc's consent, that mc is with him of their own free will, that he's not coercing mc, mc is choosing to be with him, actively. he made such a shit first impression with mc, and just wants to love them, to be loved in return, and he is so patient and calculating and plotting to ensure that he does it in a way that mc will respond positively to. he's begging for mc to notice him while being terrified of fucking up again imo. But i imagine that with caleb, caleb already knows mc in this life, he knows what she wants, he likely feels like he already has mc's consent and just acts. he's likely stubborn and obnoxious insisting that he knows best. he's not offering quid pro quo, transactional exchanges like sylus; doesn't feel the need to negotiate, because he's already put in the time, he's always been protecting and loving mc and present in a way that sylus has been unable to be until he kidnaps mc like the heartbroken dragon he is. i think caleb probably draws so much self worth from already knowing, anticipating, and providing for mc, trying to 'create a world where it's just the two of us,' definitely likes being the only one (in his mind) that can give mc what she wants/needs. whereas with sylus it's easy to write him as the green flag he has always been, trying to write caleb's brand of possessive, mask-wearing possibly-brought-up-to-kill mc but fell in love with her instead, in a romantic way, without crossing into abusive, toxic territory, presents an interesting challenge for me right now.

in any case, i'm trying to challenge my anxiety here big time, because caleb is already controversial due to the 'childhood friend/adopted brother' schism in the translations and the fandom, and because it's clear that he's two-faced and manipulative, and you have to consider their childhood when thinking about their current relationship, and with the way online culture is these days it kind of feels like a mine field wanting to dig into their story and give it context that infold will likely not give us because, well, they still haven't done that for mc at all and everything she's been through, and still haven't done it for the first few days with sylus. so I appreciate this message, esp. since people follow me for my sylus stuff and i'm shoveling unreleased obsessive caleb fic at them while letting sylus simmer. i also appreciate the comments/tags people have left on the fic itself. it's reassuring that there are people out there who like complicated, nuanced relationships in their fanfic (which I try to write with varying success), especially with caleb and his divisive place in the fandom. So thank you so much, i'm glad you enjoyed this fic.

and finally: he's not even out yet, my take on him currently could be wildly OOC and people should point and laugh at me and maybe throw things at me too once he's out and he's nothing like i'm predicting lmao. if you're caged till the 22nd, i'm right there with you, 8 days uuuuuuugh

[narcissosbythepool]

Pricegaz Pining Series

Part 7/14

Prev | Next

Prompt: Looking out for you //

Sun has not quite risen yet, stalling under the horizon and reaching its rosy fingertips across the dark blue of the sky. They're waiting, feeling the morning dew seep into their clothes as they sit still in the foliage. It's so quiet, just the rustle of the wind and the song of early birds in their ears.

Gaz puts the binoculars down.

"No movement yet, Cap," he whispers and offers the binoculars back to Price. Price takes them, checks for himself – not that he doubts Gaz's words, but it's always good to make sure.

"Looks like we're in for a long wait," he whispers back.

"You reckon terrorists aren't morning people?" Price can practically hear Gaz smiling.

"Mmh. These sure aren't." He sighs and puts the binoculars down. "I think we can sit back for a while. Be alert."

"Like a hawk, Boss."

Gaz does as told and leans back, rubbing his hands together.

"You cold, Gaz?"

"Just from sitting still. I'll be alright."

Price looks at him for a moment, notes his fingerless gloves. Good for the field, but... "Do you want mittens?"

Gaz blinks at him. "Want what?"

"Mittens. I have an extra pair." It's a lie. He only has the one. But his gloves are warmer.

Gaz considers him for a moment, his brow furrowed. He looks beautiful in the morning light, the hue of the sky painting his skin in beautiful tones. Price doesn't think he could ever get tired of the sight, of Gaz like this. He has a faint stubble now – they woke up so early that neither of them had time to shave. He would probably look good with a full beard. It's thrilling to see him like this, at this early hour. It makes Price long for more mornings.

"Alright," Gaz relents. "If you're sure."

"Positive," Price says and digs into the pockets of his rucksack, where a forgotten pair of mittens resides. He rummages for a short moment, almost dreading that he doesn't have them with him after all, until his fingertips find the familiar texture of wool.

He digs up the grey mittens and hands them over. "Here."

"Thank you." Gaz takes the mittens and puts them over his gloves with some difficulty. Price feels an urge to help but restrains himself – that's one step too far. He would surely linger.

[spocksbedsidemanner]

.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.

[weakformingyu]

Everything has changed | H.J.

Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader

Summary: in a game party you find out that your friend, Jisung, might have a crush on you and after that night you might have developed a crush on him too.

Warnings: Han is a loser, awkwardness, jealousy, pool sex 💅🏻, pussy eating, unprotected piv(don't do this at home), a bit of handjob.

Words count: ±3,400

THIS CONTENT IS FOR +18 PEOPLE ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!!!!!!

A/N: I have some weird ass writers block right now(have been like this for months 😭) but I'm not dead, I'm still alive and thinking about a hundred fics a day, I just don't seem to manage to write them 🤓☝🏻 anyways, this fic was inspired in this post because Han Jisung got some crazy biceps going on here and I'm on my biceps biting era soooo 💅🏻(don't come for me if it's trashy, I haven't written in a hundred years)

If you like my writing don't forget to reblog, comment and like too. xoxo love yall

“What do you think about Jisung?” Was the question Changbin asked when you chose truth in the game of truth or dare you were playing.

You smile sheepishly as all the boys stare at you excitedly and the girls have a little smirk on their lips, as if everyone knows something you don't.

“Hm, he's nice”, you shrug.

“You know that's not what he meant”, Ryujin says, raising a brow.

“Well, then be more specific”, you roll your eyes.

“Would you fuck him?” Karina asks, making the whole group gasp with her bluntness. Your eyes dart to Jisung, who's as red as a tomato, his bottom lips are stuck between his teeth while he stares at you anxiously.

“That's- I never thought about that, so I'm not sure”, you answer nervously. Seeing Jisung’s shoulders go down and a pout form in his lips.

“Then, there's your answer”, Karina shrugs, turning the bottle so someone else can go.

You were being truthful, you never thought about your friend in that way. You know he's handsome but you always avoid having second intentions with someone so close to you because you don't want to lose a friendship.

However, after that day and after seeing Jisung's reaction to your answer, you can't shake the feeling that maybe he's into you. You constantly catch his gaze lingering on you, when you guys are alone he keeps stuttering and even when your other friends are around, he treats you differently from them.

A few weekends after that night, Chan invites everyone to a get together in his house so everyone's going to sleep there after. Karina, Ryujin and Lia stop by your house in the early afternoon to get you so you can all go to Chan's together. When you get there, the guys are in the pool playing some sort of game, Felix and Changbin are on top of two floats, fighting while Minho is attacking Changbin with his water gun and Jisung is in the middle of both.

You stop in your tracks, watching as Jisung holds Changbins thighs, his biceps are deliciously showing and flexing as the older man falls out of the float and the younger one catches him, grabbing his bottom slightly but you can't help but wish you could be the one being grabbed by him like that.

Yes, you weren't lying that night when you said you had never thought about Jisung in that way. The problem is, that after you did, you couldn't stop. Everything he did from that night onwards caught your attention. His eyes on you, his lips, the way he smirks when someone says something dirty and he thinks no one's paying attention. The way every piece of fabric he wears hugs his body like it was made just for him. Your girlfriends are already onto you, they know something is off and they have the feeling that you finally opened your eyes to the puppy in love in your group of friends, but they decided not to say anything for now, afraid that they are going to scare you off and make you bury your new found attraction for Jisung deep in your heart, afraid to ruin your friendship.

You shake your head, listening to what the others are talking while you go inside to put your things in the guestroom Chan has prepared for you.

You spend the afternoon mostly just sunbathing while observing the guys joking around and other people arrive little by little taking your attention away from the pool.

While you eat, you can't help but notice a blonde laughing too loudly, catching your attention. She pushes Jisung playfully, throwing her head back, making you huff annoyed, you're sure what he said isn't even that funny.

“I'm gonna get some more beer, does anyone want something from the kitchen?” Jisung gets up, asking around.

“I'll help”, the blonde smiles, following him after some people ask for their beverage of choice and your eyes linger on his figure, as he walks away with the beautiful girl.

“Oh, y/n, can you get some more napkins for us?” Ryujin asks. You frown, you're sure you just saw a mountain of napkins somewhere but you have no idea where it went as you look around and can't find it.

“Sure”, you nod, getting up to go to the kitchen.

As soon as you enter the house you can hear the giggles coming from the kitchen. You take a deep breath trying to gather the courage to go inside and see something you're not sure you want to.

The girl is close to Jisung, too close for her own good, attached to his arm, practically hanging on to him. You scowl, feeling the blood in your body boiling, if you weren't sure about your feelings for your friend, you are damn sure now seeing as you're basically foaming at the mouth with the view right in front of you.

Jisungs gaze lands on you immediately when you enter the kitchen, his eyes grow wide and he takes a step back, detaching himself from the girl.

“Am I interrupting?” You ask, knowing well that you are and ignoring the glare the blonde gives you.

“Ye-” she tries to say, but is cut off by the man whose gaze hasn't left your figure since the moment you arrived.

“No”, he gulps, “what are you looking for?” Jisung asks.

“Napkins”, you say, tilting your head and leaning over the counter. Your elbows rest on the surface, purposely bringing attention to your chest.

“Just a minute”, Jisung gulps, turning around and opening the fridge. He takes out four cans of beer and gives it to the blonde. “You can go back first, I'll bring the rest in a minute”

She looks at him for a whole 10 seconds, stunned and then huffs, marching out of there.

“Your girlfriend is lovely”, you tease him, walking around the counter to get closer to him.

“She's not my girlfriend”, he laughs sheepishly, “we were just talking”

“I'm sure you were”, you say sarcastically and stare at him for a moment. “So? The napkins?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah! Here”, he says, turning around to open the door to the cabinet on top of the sink.

Jisung’s arms look especially strong when he's flexing like that to pull the packages, it's something so mundane but it makes you blush the same way. He closes the door after and hands the products to you. “I'm going to get the beer for the others and follow you in a moment”

You nod, realizing that everything is different now that you know that you like your friend. You like Han Jisung.

You wake up the next morning feeling like shit, you tossed and turned in your bed until you finally fell asleep. You thought about all the things that could go wrong now that you liked one of your friends. What if things didn't work out between you two, you're sure it would cause a rift on your friend group.

Most people went home after midnight, Chan lets only his close friends crash in his house so you know everyone that stayed the night. Lia is by your side, yapping about what you're planning to do in the afternoon while you bite into your bread and try to not freak out when Jisung shows up in the living room. You keep avoiding his eyes, like you're guilty of something, and you definitely are, guilty of liking one of your friends.

In the afternoon you go out with Ryujin, Felix and Hyunjin, you all wanna walk around in the city and buy some clothes you definitely don't need. In the car you stare outside, your friends notice you're dozing around but prefer to wait for you to tell them if something is wrong.

After buying a new bikini, you just accompany your friends in their shopping spree. When you have no more room in the car for any more bags, you finally sit to get something to eat and while you wait for your order, you seize the opportunity to ask what's been on your mind in the last hour.

“Does Jisung like me?” You ask, you want to be sure that he doesn't want to just sleep with you.

“Where did that come from?” Felix frowns.

“That night I was asked if I would sleep with him”, you blush, “I was just wondering if he likes me or just finds me attractive”

Below the table, your fingers are pressing and scratching one another, you're nervous.

“I thought it was pretty obvious”, Hyunjin says, shrugging and getting elbowed by Felix.

“I don't think we are supposed to talk about that”, the younger one smiles awkwardly.

“Oh, please. It's not like the guy has made any effort to keep it a secret”, Ryujin rolls her eyes. “Clearly y/n likes him, that's why she wants to know”, your friend completes, laughing as your eyes grow wide. “It's not like you are making any effort to hide it either”

“Yes, he likes you”, Hyunjin says, ignoring Felix’s worries, “but he was very disheartened after that night when you said you never thought about him in that way”

‘It's a lie, but you don't need to know that’, he thinks to himself. Hyunjin is much more experienced in the love field, opposite to you and Jisung, so he knows you just need a little push for things to start working out and he doesn't mind being the one shoving you to each other.

“Oh”, that's all you can say.

That means maybe he doesn't like you anymore, right? That girl from the other night was very pretty, maybe she's his new type. She looked very girly and soft, you don't know if you would be considered any of that. Most importantly, she was clearly interested in him, maybe he wants to go after someone who doesn't reject him in front of everyone he knows.

You toss and turn once more in bed, Ryujin is sleeping right next to you and you're afraid of waking her up because you can't sleep. Your mind is so full of thoughts, a million per hour and you just can't stop thinking about how you ruined everything with the guy you like.

Even with the AC turned on, you're still hot and since you don't want to wake up anyone, you silently grab your bikini, putting it on before going to the pool.

You didn't expect to find Jisung there, he's just floating in the water with a pout on his lips and eyes closed, maybe he fell asleep?

You sit comfortably on the edge of the pool, putting only your feet in the water and watching Jisung. After a few minutes of complete stillness, the man opens his eyes, taking a deep breath and sinking into the water.

He comes back a few seconds later, back turned to you and you can't help but watch him. His back is muscular, broad shoulders with a tiny waist. When he turns around, he flinches, seeing you there, staring at him.

“I didn't mean to scare you”, you chuckle.

“It's fine”, he scratches the back of his head, “I thought I was the only one still awake”

“It's really hot, I couldn't sleep”, you say, it's not the whole truth but you're not sure if you want him to know that he's the reason you're still wide awake.

He nods, awkwardly looking around while his hands play with the water. Since that game, you both have been feeling weird near each other, you for discovering these new emotions towards your friend and him for being embarrassed that you knew about his one sided crush.

‘Maybe it's worth it’, you think to yourself. He already risked it all when he let you know about his crush, it's not the end of the world if he doesn't like you anymore, you just have to ask.

“About that night…”, you ask out of nowhere with a courage you have no idea where it came from. “Do you still like me?”

Jisung opens his mouth a few times, closing it right after, not knowing what to say. He takes a deep breath before answering.

“I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything”, he sighs.

“Do you still like me?” You frown, repeating your question.

“Yeah, I do”, he shrugs, embarrassed.

“I never thought about you that way before”, you say, seeing the pout growing in his lips, “but after that night I kinda did”

Jisung stares at you for a minute before speaking again.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I like you back”, you feel your whole face heating while you wait for him to react. You both are still far from each other, Jisung in the middle of the pool while you're at the edge. His eyes grow wide and his lips open like he has something to say but doesn't know how.

He starts coming close to you, your heart beating faster as the distance between you both lessens, until the man stops in front of you, his hands landing on each side of your thighs but still not touching.

“Can you repeat that?” He blushes, “I don't want you to say you like me back just because you pity me”, he bites on his bottom lip and you smile. You cup his face with your hands, bending down so you can kiss him. His lips are soft and he tastes good, sweet, like something you would never get tired of. His hands finally touch your skin, sliding to your thighs and squeezing the plushy flesh.

“If you knew me at all, you'd know I would never lie about liking someone”, you let go of him, smiling and giving him a peck before growing the distance between your faces.

“I just really like you”, he blushes, biting his bottom lip, finally letting his gaze travel down your body, going through your tits pushed up by the bikini top and going down your stomach, until it reaches your bikini bottom, his hands squeezing your thighs even more to the view of your body in front of him.

“Is that so?” You smirk, “show me then”, you smile, bending down to whisper in his ear. “Show me how much you like me”

Jisung doesn't waste any time, grabbing your face with only one hand and squeezing your cheeks, kissing you harshly. His other hand slides up, pulling the strings of your bikini bottom so he can untie the bow. He pulls away from you, leaving kisses down your neck, he has his hand down on your pussy, putting on a finger and watching your reaction to it.

You moan, grinding your hips against his hand so you can feel him deeper. Jisung has his mouth slightly opened, dazed with the little whimpers you let out when he adds another finger inside you. Your hands go instantly to his shoulders, nails burying in his skin while his other hand unties the top of your bikini, freeing your tits. Jisung watches them bounce with his bottom lip stuck between his teeth. He can't help himself, coming closer, his mouth closing on your left breast, his tongue playing with your nipple, making you moan.

His thumb slides to your clit and you bite on your bottom lip, trying not to make too much noise — at least not more than you're already making.

The man smiles, kissing down your stomach, getting closer to your pussy and you can feel his breath hitting the skin, making you tremble.

He licks a stripe between your folds, your hands fly to his hair pulling the locks. Jisung's hands slide to your thighs, pulling you more to the edge of the pool. Putting your legs over his shoulders and grabbing your ass so he can eat you out more intensely.

He looks like a man starved, the way he groans and moans just by feeling your taste. Jisung is so turned on he could come just by feeling your tight pussy in his mouth. The sounds you make are divine, he can't believe he gets to hear you like this, because of him, just for him.

“I- I'm gonna-”, you can't even finish your sentence, moaning the moment you try to say more than three words.

“Come for me, baby”, he stops eating you out just to say it, going back to work as soon as the words leave his mouth, he stares at you intensely from down there, working even harder and making you come undone in his mouth.

You take a few deep breaths, eyes closed. You can't believe how good he's at this and it also makes you a bit jealous, how did he get so good?

You watch as the man cleans around his mouth with his thumb, immediately taking the finger to his mouth to lick it clean and you hold the moan that wants to escape your mouth.

“Do you want to keep going?” He asks, not expecting you to but hoping that you do.

You nod, untying the other side of your bikini bottom, throwing the piece of fabric behind you.

You take Jisung's hands in yours, guiding them to your waist as you push yourself into the water. The man holds you, kissing your lips as soon as you are close enough to him. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your thighs when he pulls you towards him, wanting to feel your body on his and you can feel the heat growing all over your body again.

You slide your hand inside his shorts, grabbing his dick and making him whimper in your mouth. You bite on his bottom lip, your hand makes movements of back and forth, making Jisung bend down and bite your shoulder, trying to suppress his moan. You groan, it feels good having him so close to you, marking you as his.

You pull his shorts down all the way down, pushing yourself up and wrapping your legs around his hips. Jisung grabs his cock, rubbing his tip on your entrance, slightly teasing your clit.

“Are you sure about this?” He groans, trying to control himself, “after this I won't let you go”

You nod, closing your eyes in anticipation.

“Words”, he whispers, barely being able to hold himself back.

“Fuck.me.now”, you say with gritted teeth, opening your eyes to stare at him, holding onto his shoulders when he finally enters you.

You feel like heaven when he's inside you, your velvet walls tightening around him make him groan.

“Shit”, he cusses, biting on his bottom lip. “You're so hot”, he gets closer, kissing you deeply. His lips are so soft, you could never get over it.

Jisung starts thrusting, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you closer, fucking you deeper.

Your hands slide to his hair, pulling the locks while his lips go down your neck. He bites on your skin, sucking the area until it's red and you're sure it's gonna leave a mark. One of his hands goes to your clit, rubbing the bud, making you get closer to your climax.

“I'm close”, he says, his thrusts faster and his fingers working diligently.

“I'm close too”, you say, kissing him, feeling his thrusts getting sloppier. You feel the hot liquid being spilled inside you, but he doesn't stop. Jisung keeps going, putting more pressure into your clit until you're trembling around him. He whimpers in your mouth, his hips faltering and both of your breaths growing tired.

He rests his head on your shoulder for a few seconds, before moving away from you, staring at you like you're going to fight him and run off.

“I guess you like me a lot”, you smirk, watching him blush and smile.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” He asks, biting on his bottom lip.

“I thought you'd never ask”, you smile, giving him a peck on the lips. “I even already have the reason for our first fight”, you raise one brow, laughing as his eyes grow wide.

“What?”

“You are going to have to explain to me how you got so good at eating pussy”, you tease and he smiles.

“I guess I'm just a natural”, he shrugs, making you shake your head in amusement and kiss him.

You could get used to this, you definitely can.

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

I have ~Thoughts~ on the Harry Potter Phenomenon that was

(Courtesy of memories prompted by this Tumblr Poll)

Back when I was a senior in college (back in the mid-to-late 1980s), I actually wrote a fantasy novel for kids aged ~8 - ~11 (in a self-designed course for a single credit, under the guidance of my Literature advisor), inspired by a series of dreams and recurring characters that showed up in them.

My advisor encouraged me to try and get it published. And so, I arranged with teachers from my old school to have a class of 30 or so 10 year-olds beta read it, and give me feedback for revisions. The kids also encouraged me to try and publish it.

So I did.

Now, back then, there was no "Self Publishing." The closest thing was "Vanity Publishing," where you would pay 100% of the publishing cost of your book, which would be printed in hard copy, for the benefit of having 500 -1,000 books shipped to your personal address, which you were then responsible for storing and selling out of the trunk of your car in a parking lot, somewhere. And if word got out that you were trying to claim credit for being a "published author" because of a Vanity Press book, actual publishers wouldn't touch you with a 40-foot pole.

If you wanted to get published, you had to buy that year's copy of Writer's Market: a listing of magazine and book publishers, and agents, with a brief description of what material they published, and what they wouldn't touch.

Guess what genre no agent or publisher was interested in handling?

That's right, Gentle Readers: Fantasy for children aged 8 - 11. I would have happily sent out a dozen queries for each story I wrote, if there were publishers and agents willing to look at them. But for three to four years of trying, in directories of two-columns of tiny print, and several [hundred]* pages long, I'd be lucky to find two or three outlets even willing to look at fantasy for kids.

The general consensus, across the publishing business, was that fantasy was a dead and obsolete genre. If it was for kids old enough to read chapter books and novels, it must also be firmly grounded in realism and actual history, because everyone knows the only people buying books for kids that age were teachers, who wanted stories with practical applications in the classroom.

***

After 3 - 4 years of trying, while I was in grad school, I finally got a rejection from the one agent who agreed to read my novel. A few days later, I received news that my mother had died from the breast cancer she'd been fighting, and my heart just went out of the project altogether.

A few years later, the first Harry Potter book was published. And it became a worldwide phenomenon. And it was the kids, themselves, who were driving the sales.

See, I think the real reason the books were such a success, even though they were never really very well written, was because they were in a genre the audience was hungry for -- a genre they'd been denied access to for all of their young lives.

Someone who is starving will think even moldy bread is delicious.

*Gosh, what a word to leave out via typo; the Writers Market rivaled the Manhattan Yellow Pages in length.

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| Baby Mine ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader || Bucky x y/n

Summary: Bucky comes home from from a mission and finds you sick. You make an appointment at the medical bay expecting a routine visit only to find out some pretty surprising news.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, minor talk of options pertaining to, morning sickness, a disgusting amount of fluff, and a small sprinkle of spice at the end just because I felt like it.

Word Count: 3323

A/Ns: First and foremost, I would like to apologize for my hiatus. It was not intended and I hit a writers block. With that being said, I do have a decent amount in my drafts and have been working on getting some new things out there!

I would like to say a special thank you to @lil-darhk who gave me some encouraging words that I really needed to hear & helped get me back on here. ♥️

This is a ONE SHOT. This is not part of my BBWWS. I am still working on that but this is something I have been thinking of for a while and just felt like writing about. I know that a pregnancy troupe is not for everyone. (Personally, I love it and I'm not sure if I will write it into my other storyline.) SO because of that....I give you this. I hope you all enjoy it because the idea of Daddy Bucky to me is just 🤌🏻💋

Waking up to the smell of fresh ground coffee was always a tall tale sign of Bucky being home. Missions can be unpredictable. He can be gone for a few days, to a few weeks, and sometimes even months at a time. Luckily, this time he had only been gone about a month and a half.

Excitement took over as you forego your usual procrastinating in bed stretch to run out of the bedroom. Opening the door, the aroma was heavenly- as if a coffee shop had replaced your kitchen overnight. But your eyes immediately fixed on Bucky who was wearing a smirk while plating two separate stacks of pancakes.

“Breakfast, doll?” His voice as smooth as the warm syrup flowing down from those pancake stacks.

Running and jumping to wrap your arms around his neck was your response. Bucky chuckled, holding both arms out wider so he didn’t drop the plates. He put them down gently onto the counter so that his arms would now be only consumed with you.

“I missed you too.” You don’t have to look up from being buried in his chest to know that he’s smiling, it’s in the lighthearted tone of his voice.

Leaning back slightly with his arms still holding you, he looks into your eyes and plants a petal soft kiss on your lips.

“How come you didn’t wake me up when you got in?” You frown slightly looking up at him.

He shakes his head slightly and shrugs, “You just looked so… peaceful. I couldn’t bare to wake you up. At least, not without sustenance,” Bucky laughs.

Shifting your eyes from Bucky to the pancakes and back, your lips tug in each corner. “Smart man.”

His cooking always felt like home. It was filling, delicious, and you could almost taste the love it was made it with. “Mm,” the small noise escapes low in your throat as you take the last bite. Looking across the kitchen table, Bucky is slumped in his chair, arms folded with a warm smile as he watches you. “What?” The question comes out as a half joke and half concern.

Shaking his head slightly the smile grew. “Nothing, doll. Just missed you is all.” Leaning forward, Bucky rests his elbows on the table continuing to stare a tad bit more than normal.

“You’re acting weird.” You say, adjusting in your seat feeling slightly awkward.

“So what have you been up to while I was away?” He completely ignored your statement, asking an easy and lighthearted question.

“Um..” you start, breakfast starting to feel suddenly heavy in your stomach. “I uh-“ your teeth start to clench down as you swallow hard at the pooling saliva in your mouth. “I went out with Nat-“ your brows furrowed, starting to have difficulty with getting the words out. Bucky’s face quickly contorts to concern as you continue to fight the inevitable. “and her sister for some…s-some drinks-“ the word makes you gag.

Almost as if you channeled some super soldier serum, you pushed back from the table and ran- praying that the pressure of your hand over your mouth will be enough insurance to get to the toilet. It barely was. Breakfast came back up violently, loudly as you kneeled in front of the porcelain king. Even when you thought there couldn’t possibly be anything else to throw up, your stomach wrung on itself, forcing up every last drop of bile.

Breathing heavily into the bowl, skin now glistening with cooling sweat, you realize that your hair has been pulled out of your face. Your eyesight, now no longer blurry, sees Bucky sitting next to you; his right hand holding your hair back in a make shift ponytail and his left hand on the nape of your neck, the coolness of his metal hand being your favorite thing in the world at the moment.

“I’m sorry…” your sob echoed lightly in the toilet. “I’ve never been hung over like this before,” you sit back on your knees, grabbing some tissues to wipe your mouth. You bring yourself to look up at him through hooded and puffy red eyes, feeling instantly embarrassed. Bucky gives you a small reassuring smile as his hand gently rubs up and down your back.

“I’ve had the Russians drink me under the table a few times too. C’mon…” He helps you off of the floor, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

A warm bath, some fresh comfy clothes and a plain cup of tea seemed to make the nausea subside.

“I knew I shouldn’t have drank last night,” you say, looking into the lightly steaming mug. “My stomach hasn’t felt right in a few weeks. I actually have an appointment this afternoon in the medical bay, but I didn’t know you would be home. I can cancel it-”

“What time is your appointment?” He cuts you off,

“Um,” you look towards the wall and squint at the clock. “Actually in 45 minutes,” you laugh softly at the realization.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He offers.

“And miss your debriefing? Why, Sargent Barnes, that’s highly unlike you.” Even with not feeling great you can’t help but give him shit. This is the normal

Shaking his head softly he lets out a small laugh. “Alright,” he puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture, “but call me if anything comes up, okay? I’m worried about you.” Bucky’s voice is soft and sincere as he leans in and plants a small kiss on your forehead. His eyes hesitate, locking on yours for a moment. Leaning back in, he presses his lips to yours. “I love you. So much,”

“Love you more, Bucky.” You smile back up at him.

Sitting on the exam table in nothing but a medical gown, you swing your legs gently back and forth while gently nibbling the tip of your thumb as you wait for the provider.

You jump at the sudden knock at the door. In walks the new physicians assistant for The Compound, a young and beautiful woman who looked like she was straight out of school.

“Hi! My names Bree and I’ll be working with you today. According to the nurse who did your intake, you’re here for-“ she scrolls through your electronic chart on a tablet, “some abdominal issues. Tell me about that,” she sits down on a stool, listening intently.

“It’s.. really not a big deal,” you start, she keeps quiet waiting for you to explain in more detail. “I don’t know,” you start to fumble with a few loose strands of hair. “I’ve just felt this sort of… heaviness? It hasn’t gone away and is just always sort of there?” Your voice is unsure, feeling self conscious as you describe this silly little symptom that you felt the need to make an appointment for. “This morning I got sick. Well, I went out drinking last night, so I’m assuming I’m a little hung over.” Your words start to sound like your rambling.

“Hmm,” Bree says in response. “When was your last period?”

“Um,” the gears start turning in your head as you try to backdate events, plans that had been interrupted because of aunt flow. “About 4 months ago?” It probably wasn’t on purpose, but you could see the clinicians eyebrow raise a centimeter in question. “It’s not what you think!” You quickly try to defend, “I’m on the pill! My periods have always been irregular which is part of the reason I’m on birth control in the first place.”

“Okay,” she responds, skeptical. “And you take the pill religiously?”

“Yes,”

“Everyday?”

“Yeah…”

“At the same time?” Bree’s eyebrow inclines just a little more.

“Well,” now she has you questioning everything that you’ve said. “I always have an alarm on my phone and try to take it the same time everyday.” That makes you feel better, justified.

“Have you been sick recently? Aside from this morning, any need for any prescriptions, antibiotics?”

“I had bronchitis, but that was… god months ago?”

“Okay,” she says flatly, “so we’ll just go ahead and do a minor work up to see if we can figure out what’s going on. The first thing I want to do though, is a pregnancy test.” Even though you could feel your face change, Bree quickly added, “Routine stuff. It’s one of the bases that we always cover early on.”

You suddenly become hyper focused on the urine sample you left on the counter top, as asked by the nurse. Bree takes out a small, flat test from a nearby drawer and uses a pipette to transfer the fluid.

It could have been 30 seconds or 20 minutes, but the idea that pregnancy was even a remote possibility has your insides feeling like they’re folding in on themselves.

“Okay so,” Bree starts, getting your attention. “The test did in fact, come out positive. Since your cycles have been irregular, I’d like to do an ultrasound to see how far along you are and then we can talk about options. Just go ahead and lay back on the table, feet in the stirrups.”

"Positive?" You repeat. "But... What? How?" It comes out breathless.

"Well, sometimes antibiotics can actually cancel out the effects of birth control. We try to advise women to not be sexually active as the body might seize the opportunity to ovulate and result in an unplanned pregnancy. How about we just take a look and go from there, okay?" Bree says just a little too cheerfully as she pats the stirrups.

Following her directions is the only thing you’re able to focus on. Going through the motions of laying down, putting your feet up and opening your legs. Bree’s voice is a murmur mixed with a high pitch ringing as you look up at the ceiling tiles, counting each spect while she sets up the portable sono machine.

“Just a little pressure,” she says, guiding the wand like probe, looking at the screen. “Okay. So, judging from the size… I’d say you’re close to about 9 weeks, give or take a bit. Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” She asks, sweetly. And it’s the first time you’re able to look at her since lying down. Bree patiently waits for your answer with a warm smile. You reluctantly nod your head.

The room fills with soft, muffled whooshing. “It’s so fast. I-is that okay? Is everything okay?” You’re searching her face for any hint of something being wrong. In return, Bree just nods gently as she keeps her smile, still examining the screen.

“A fetus’ heartbeat is a lot quicker than ours. Everything looks perfect actually. Would you… like to see?”

“Yes, please.” You didn't hesitate with your answer this time.

The screen gets tilted towards you and your eyes start darting all around looking for the baby. Your baby. At first you don't see anything. It doesn't look like photos you've seen on Instagram of pregnancy announcements. But then, in the middle of what looks like a black balloon, is a bean with limbs. In the center of this bean is a lively flicker. Bree uses her index finger to point to the screen.

"There's the fetus' arms and legs," she points to the extremities, "and here," her finger gently taps on the pulsing center, "is the heart."

The whooshing matches the pace of the flicker; lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. Hearing the heartbeat in synch with the pulsing on the screen causes your own heartbeat to match for a moment.

So this is love.

After a moment, Bree removes the probe and rips a paper from the ultrasound machine. "Here's some pictures for you," she hands them to you as you sit up on the bed. "I want to see you back here in three weeks for another check up... unless you want to discuss other options?" You shake your head. "Do you have any questions for me?"

“No, not right now.” You’re solely focused on the pictures now in your hand. Even though the image is burned into your brain, holding a physical copy has some how made it more real.

The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind. There was no possible way that you’re actually pregnant. Even with the new noticeable symptoms and bathroom counter littered in double pink lined tests, it still seemed so unbelievable. That’s not even the hardest part. How am I going to tell Bucky?

Just as the reality starts to set in of having to tell the other adult who is directly involved, the front door to the apartment opens.

"Hey, doll!" Bucky calls loudly from the hallway, the thumping of his boots following his voice. "Sorry that the meeting ran late. I figured we could order in tonight. What about that Thai place you like?" He waits for a response while buzzing around the kitchen, no doubt making himself coffee for the dozenth time today. "Doll?" The question echoes through the quiet apartment.

"I'm in here," you acknowledge softly from the living room couch. Bucky pokes his head out from the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief.

"There you are," he starts walking towards you. "If you tell me what you would like for dinner, I'll call it in and then-" his voice and steps stop abruptly. "Hey... you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." You answer, obviously distracted.

"That doesn't sound too convincing," Bucky hesitated, looking you over and taking a few steps closer.

"I-I have to tell you something." Your tone is soft, scared. You’re fidgeting with the edges of your sweater sleeves.

“Is it something the doctor said?” His voice is softer now, reluctant and afraid. While his piercing, cerulean blue eyes continue to search yours for the answer, wide and terrified.

“I-“

Should I have gotten balloons? Made him open a box with one of the pregnancy tests or a cute onesie inside? Bake a damn cake?

“Y/n?!” Bucky didn’t yell but definitely had to get your attention. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?!” He pleaded. Why were the words so difficult to say? Maybe because it hasn’t been said out loud yet. Or that it’s still so shocking. Or maybe that verbalizing it will just make it that more real. You turn on your heels and run to the bathroom.

“Y/n!!” He calls after you, but you know he’ll be just a few steps behind.

Picking up a handful of the positive tests off of the vanity counter with your heartbeat pounding in your ears in combination with his heavy footsteps getting closer.

“Seriously! What is going on-“ Bucky is flustered as he steps into the entryway and stops abruptly at the sight of you facing him, holding the tests fanned out.

“I’m pregnant.” There it is. You’re holding your breath, waiting to see what he’ll say. Aside from contraceptives, you’ve never had any kind of discussions pertaining to a family.

His face softens as he takes a step forward, his eyes hyper fixated on all the double pink lines. Bucky’s chest rises and falls deeply now. “You’re… pregnant? Not sick?” He asks to clarify, being cautious.

“Morning sickness, apparently”, a small laugh escapes and it surprises you. “But other than that, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

The ‘we’re’ part catches his attention. He’s looking into your eyes once again, searching. But, for what?

“Is this… something you want? With… me?” He suddenly sounds so adolescent and anxious. Who can blame him? This took you both completely by surprise. Knowing Bucky, he would support you in whatever you wanted. Whatever decision you thought was best for you, your body, your health in every aspect, he would respect and advocate for. He is being cautious with his response to the news until he knows what your decision is.

Putting the tests down, you take both of his hands into yours and take a deep breath.

“Bucky, if you had asked me this morning, I wouldn’t have known what our future would hold. But knowing what I know now… I want this baby. I want to be a mom and for us to be a family. That being said, I know that this is something that we never talked about. If this isn’t something you want, I underst-“

You’re suddenly cut off by his lips pressing into yours. It feels like a weight has been lifted as Bucky’s arms gently wrap around you to bring you closer. Kissing becomes increasingly difficult around giggles and the obnoxiously big smiles you’re both wearing.

When your lips finally part, Bucky’s eyebrows are raised in excitement. His eyes are darting around your torso as if the news would suddenly show physical changes on your body.

“I can’t believe it…” he breathes, “I actually get the chance to be a Dad-” The word comes out almost as a choked sob. My heart.

Reaching into your back pocket, you pull out the ultrasound Bree had given to you earlier, holding it up for him to see.

"Look, our baby's first photo!"

Bucky takes the picture as gently as if someone were handing him an actual newborn baby. He just stares, probably confused as to what he was looking at similarly to you just a few hours ago.

"I know it doesn't really look like anything right now- but I go back in a few weeks and-"

"Are you kidding?" He looks up from the black and white photo to meet your eyes, a watery sheen coating his own. "This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life." Bucky says softly, as if to himself, looking back down at the picture. And he's smiling. A genuine, heartfelt smile.

That night was the closest he had ever held you in his arms. The two of you made up for lost conversations and started planning for your future and what it held as you laid in bed. Bucky talked about how he wanted to build a crib instead of buying one and was curious what the appropriate amount of time was to wait until you could both start telling everyone. Excitement was an understatement for this man.

"Can I go with you to your next appointment?" He asked, in a hopeful tone as his fingers traced along smooth, soft circles around your belly button. You giggle, wincing at one specific caress.

"Hey! That tickles! But, of course you can. You can come to all of them. I was... kinda hoping you would?" In return, your tone holds the same anticipation.

"I wouldn't miss it." Bucky's palm flattens against your belly as he places a kiss against your temple.

"Don't get used to that," You say looking down. "We're going to start growing and getting bigger any day now." You fake a frown, although there is a small part of you that isn't necessarily faking.

"Hmm." A low hum vibrates from the back of Bucky's throat as he shifts his body down along yours.

His fingertips skim the hem of your sleep shirt before pulling it up and exposing your stomach. The coolness of the air makes your abdomen tighten, but is soon replaced with petal soft kisses. "When you say 'grow', I hope you mean grow more beautiful by the day." Each firm press of his lips feels like its igniting your skin on fire with the newfound sensitivity. Your toes start to dig down into the mattress.

"Because, y/n..." Bucky repositions himself onto his knees, one now conveniently pressed in-between your legs. The pressure alone makes your heart rate spike and has you borderline panting. He hovers over you, "There isn't anything in this world I find more beautiful or more attractive than my girl carrying my child." He holds your gaze, intense and primal- more than you've ever seen.

"Do you understand?" Bucky asks with a raised brow. You nod hastily and he grins in response. "Good girl. Now, let's see if those rumors about hyper sensitivity are true. Judging by how you're writhing under me and the wet spot on my knee... I'm really going to enjoy the next few months."

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist! Requests are open!

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @skyf-7

[luvergirl21]

detestable...

enemies to lovers dom!hamzah x f!reader

hi everyone! i have had the most absolutely terrible writer's block recently, which is why this fic has taken so long. but i hope you enjoy regardless! please send me reqs if you have them!

summary: y/n absolutely hates hamzah, detests him, actually. until one day, when that undeniable feeling of angers burns into an even hotter flame.

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUTTING SMUT SMOT! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18.

word count: 3066

You loved your life. Your home, your animals, your friends, your youtube channel, everything. There was nothing about your life that irked you. Except for one thing. Him. Hamzah. You had become friends with Mandy over two years ago, over similar interests and styles of youtube channels, and had met Hamzah about six months into your friendship with her. You had never met somebody like him before. You got along with everyone, even if they slightly pissed you off, you were able to stomach their presence and create minimal amounts of respectable small talk. But not with Hamzah. In fact, when you were first invited over to Mandy’s house for a party and heard he was going to be there, you were excited. You had seen his online presence and thought he was funny, charming, and kind, only to find out upon meeting him that the complete opposite was the truth. He was awkward, and weird, and nothing at all like you thought he would be. The two of you were unable to mesh a single comfortable conversation together and, since then, you had effectively avoided him like the plague.

The angry tension between the two of you finally exploded one Friday night. You had been invited to dinner at Mandy’s house, and you were ecstatic. You imagined your night playing out with the two of you cooking and baking delicious food, sharing some with Martin in his man-cave, then diving into the delicacies in front of a cozy fall movie. What you did not expect was Hamzah to be there.

“Hey, y/n!” Mandy said excitedly, as she opened the door and welcomed you into her home. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“Oh my god,” you said, grasping her hands in yours. “You have no idea! I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” You took your shoes off before following the brunette into the kitchen. The two of you were laughing and talking until you stopped dead in the middle of the kitchen, starting out towards the living room. Two male heads were positioned together on the couch, one with straight, almost black, locks and the other with luscious, dark curls. You would recognize those curls anywhere. Shit.

You grabbed Mandy by her forearm and whispered in her ear, “I didn’t know he would be here.”

“Who?” she asked cluelessly, swiveling her head to where your wide-eyed gaze was fixated upon. “Oh, right…Hamzah. Martin and him filmed a video today and he’s not leaving until later. I’m so sorry, y/n. I really tried to get him out of the house, but he insisted on staying for dinner.” You knew that Hamzah liked to rile you up, he made it abundantly clear whenever the two of you would have a conversation.

“He just wants to piss me off,” you responded. “It’s okay. We can just ignore them and have fun.” Mandy smiled at you. The two of you began gathering items and ingredients from around the kitchen to make the dinner. You had decided on making fettuccine alfredo with broccoli and chicken over text with pumpkin cream cheese cupcakes for dessert. The two of you labored over the pasta for almost an hour, laughing and giggling over every single thing. The boys mainly kept to themselves, occasionally laughing softly at the game they were playing on the TV. You paused from stirring the cheesy sauce, simmering softly in the pan.

“You can go ahead and combine this sauce with the pasta, Mandy,” you said, nudging the brunette girl with your elbow. “I’m going to head to the bathroom real quick.” You went to the bathroom down the hall and completed your business, flushing the toilet and washing your hands. As you exited the bathroom, you ran right into a pair of broad, muscular shoulders. You look up, an apology bubbling from your lips, until you meet a pair of wide, dark eyes: Hamzah. His eyes narrow and his brow furrows. Your lips curl into a sneer, the close proximity of him causing hot, red anger to flare in your chest. The two of you attempt to get around each other, moving in sync. This annoying act continued until Hamzah’s large hands grip your waist and practically lifted you up, moving you out of his way. He continued down the hallway to the guest room without looking back, leaving you stunned into silence in the middle of the hallway. Your waist tingled lightly where his hands had touched you. The way his large hands were able to almost completely engulf your waist, followed by how effortlessly he had lifted you, caused inappropriate, unwanted thoughts to flow through your mind. You shook your head, internally scolding yourself for your rash behavior. When you reunited with Mandy in the kitchen, she gave you a confused look.

“You okay?” she asked. No doubt your silent demeanor and red face giving away some of your internal embarrassment.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded, unconvincingly.

“You sure?” she pressed. “I saw Hamzah leave and I just thought–”

“Yes!” you snapped, cutting her off. “I am perfectly fine.” You ran a hand through your hair and Mandy laughed, shaking her head at your idiocy.

“If you say so, girl.” The night continued smoothly once you had calmed yourself down from your strained interaction with Hamzah. The pasta was cheesy and delicious, followed by the brownies which were sweet and rich with chocolate. Mandy shared the brownies with the two boys, Martin full of compliments and praise for the two of you, while Hamzah enjoyed his in silence, glancing at you every so often with a wide-eyed stare that made you feel both uncomfortable and anxious. Throughout the night, Martin and Mandy exchanged coy looks, giggling under their breath at something that seemed to you like an inside joke, but you were unsure. Finally, you reached your breaking point, and blurted out your confusion at the couple’s strange attitude.

“What the hell are you two plotting?” you asked. The couple exchanged a knowing look, smirking at each other.

“Plotting?” Mandy repeated. “We’re not plotting anything.”

“I know you are,” you said. 

To your utter surprise, Hamzah chimed in in agreement. “Yeah,” he said, mouth full of brownie. “You’re both acting so weird. What’s going on?”

Mandy gave Martin another weird look, the two nodding at each other in joint agreement. “Well…” Mandy said. “There’s this movie that Martin and I have been dying to see and it comes out today. We’re going to leave to see it now.”

“And we know that the two of you have some unsettled differences,” Martin chimed in. “So while we go out to see this movie, the two of you are going to stay here and figure them out.”

“Are you serious, Mandy?” you said, exasperation at this situation obvious in your voice. You glanced at Hamzah who had undeniable shock plastered all over his face. “No…” you said, as the couple began to pack up their things and pull their shoes on in quick succession. “No, no, you’re not doing this.”

“We’ll just leave the house, Martin,” Hamzah said.

“We’re locking the two of you in,” the brunette replied. “You’re not getting out this easy. The way you two absolutely despise each other pisses us off. So, you’re both not leaving until you have established some sort of mutual camaraderie or something like it. Understand?” You and Hamzah stood up from the table in protest, but it was too late, Mandy and Martin left the house in sync, locking the door from the outside. The two of you were trapped, together and alone, for an uncomfortable, inestimable amount of hours. You let out a sigh of pure frustration, understanding that the following couple of hours were going to be the most uncomfortable and angry you had felt in a while.

“Well, shit,” Hamzah said, sitting back down and folding his arms across his broad chest.

You rolled your eyes. “This is fucking ridiculous,” you said. “There’s no way I’m doing this.” You get up and pace the wooden floor, head lowered as you think of all the ways you could escape Hamzah and his brown-eyed gaze that you could feel following your every move.

“Oh, come on,” he said, standing up from his seat. He moved in front of you, blocking your path, looking down at you with a facetious smirk that boiled your blood. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said, maneuvering around the larger man. “It can and it is.” Hamzah reached out, fast as lightning, and grabbed your forearm. The slight touch sent undeniable shivers down your spine, which you hated. He turned you around to face him, the two of you inches from one another. You gazed down at his hand, still wrapped around your forearm.

“Am I really that detestable to you, y/n?” he asked, voice at a decibel so low you had to crane your ears to even hear him. The inches between the two of you began closing, his eyes—so brown they looked black—drawing you closer. Dark, seductive images flitted through your mind: Hamzah’s large hands gripping your waist, his lips on your neck, hands fisting your hair, gripping your throat, touching your cunt. Shocked, you wretch your forearm out of his grasp.

“Yes,” you breathed out, chest heaving, mind reeling from your stupid imagination and wandering mind. “You are that detestable.”

“Really?” Hamzah asked, voice no louder than a whisper. You realized as your back hit the wall that he had backed you into a both physical and mental corner. You gulped as he drew closer and closer. “Because—I think—you like to think of me as something more than just detestable.”

“I don’t like to think of you at all, Hamzah,” you said, skin burning as his dark eyes remained locked on yours, unyielding in their direct gaze.

“You don’t?” he said, scoffing. He leaned closer, lips practically brushing yours. His large hands maneuver to grip your waist, and you don’t even try to stop him. “Not at all, huh. Not even at night, when you’re alone in your bed.” His grip on your waist tightened and shockwaves of undeniable pleasure flash through your spine like needles. “Cause I do. All the fucking time.” You look up at him, eyes widened in shock. He curses, the grip on your waist tightening so hard you thought it would bruise. “Don’t,” he said, voice rough and gravely. “Don’t fucking look at me like that…or I’m going to do something we both will regret.”

You had never expected to feel this way about Hamzah. But seeing him—a man so stupid and narcissistic and haughty—reduced to this…reduced to a quivering mess of a man with needy desperation written all over him, you felt that you couldn’t help yourself. You whimpered as your core tightened. Your back brushed the wall and Hamzah leaned impossibly closer, chest brushing against your own.

“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me you don’t want this.” You froze, the repeated words brushing your lips, bubbling up inside you. But you couldn’t lie. You couldn’t say them. For deep down inside you, in a place you had buried since you got to know him, lay the dirty, red-hot truth. You wanted him too, equally as bad. Your shaking hands, puppeteered not by your brain, but by that stupid feeling deep in your heart, reached up to intertwine behind Hamzah’s neck, grasping at the delicate curls at his nape. Hamzah’s eyes widened at the realization that you weren’t backing away.

“I can’t,” you confessed. Hamzah, lips quivering with desire, leaned closer, brushing your soft and plush mouth with his own. Unable to contain your palpitating desire, you tightened your grip on his curls and pulled him into you, pressing your lips violently together. Your lips locked together, a wet mess of tongue and spit as you desperately clung to each other. Hamzah’s hands ran up and down your body, unsure of what part of you he wanted to touch first, desperate for everything, all at once. He separated from your lips, and you let out a needy, unfiltered whine at the lack of contact. Hamzah began kissing down your neck, suckling on that sweet spot behind your ear that made you cry out in pleasure.

“You have no idea,” he whispered, in between open-mouthed kisses planted on your neck. “You have no fucking idea what you do to me.” You whimpered at the blunt confession, hands yanking at his curls. His hands grabbed at your ass, lifting you up effortlessly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Hamzah roughly pushed you up against the wall, lips connecting with your own again. You yanked at his t-shirt and he paused his motions, pulling it over his head and throwing it somewhere in the room. You came face-to-face with his body, ribbed and muscular from his time in the gym, while also maintaining enough tummy to make your thighs squeeze together. You mirror his movements, pulling your tanktop off and shucking your sweats down your legs, leaving you in your bra and underwear. Hamzah looks at you starstruck.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, reaching to grasp at your covered tits. “You’re even prettier than I imagined.” You giggled slightly, a gesture that never occurred to you would happen with Hamzah. Hamzah sunk down to his knees, leaving little kisses along your stomach and the underside of your tits. Kissing and biting your inner thighs, he dragged your underwear down your legs, mouth agape as you came face-to-face with your soaking cunt. He looked up at you with wide eyes, pupils dilated, and you felt your knees weaken. Hamzah grabbed one of your thighs after the other, wrapping your legs around his shoulders practically sitting on him, leaning against the wall. He continued to leave little kisses along your legs, suckling purple bruises onto your inner thighs.

“Hamzah–” you whine, tightening your grip in his curls.

“Use your words, y/n,” he said, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes.

“I need you,” you say, your desperation overwhelming your embarrassment and confusion. Hamzah smirked up at you, before shoving his head deep between your thighs. He licked a long strip up your folds, holding eye contact with you, before circling his tongue around your clit. As his tongue connected with your sensitive bud, you let out a long moan, head tilting back against the wall. Hamzah ate you out like it was his last meal, licking, sucking, and slurping your juices in a constant state of desperation for more. You felt yourself coming closer and closer to your climax, hands tightening his hair as his nose rubbed deep into your clit. You came with a cry, legs shaking around his head as you shuddered and convulsed, white spots bedazzling your vision.

Hamzah lifted you up, wrapping your legs back around his waist and kissed you, mouth stained with your juices. You tasted yourself on his tongue and moaned at the feel of his tongue poking its way into your mouth.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he whispered. “You have no idea how bad I wanted you.”

“Hamzah—” you panted. “I need you inside of me.” He reached down into his pants, pulling out his hard member, stroking it a few times before rubbing it up and down your wet folds. He slid into you with a gasp, the two of you moaning at the feel of him sheathed inside of you. He began slowly thrusting in and out of you, the stretch of his thick cock inside your cunt drawing whimpers from deep in your throat. While your eyes rolled back into your head from the pleasure, Hamzah never broke eye contact.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” he said. “You hate me, huh?”

You whimper in response.

“Yeah, you hate me…but you’re still here, being fucked by this cock, huh?” You couldn’t respond, the only sound flowing from you being heady whines and high-pitched moans. You felt yourself inching closer towards another release, one of your hands reaching between your legs to rub your clit. One of Hamzah’s hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing slightly, you realized with a jolt that he was holding you up with one hand. The fact that this man could hold you up and fuck you so good with just the strength of one arm made your core tighten.

“I–I’m gonna cum, Hamzah,” you manage to cry out, dangerously tipping on the precipice of release.

“Oh, yeah?” Hamzah responded breathlessly. “You gonna cum, baby? Shit. Cum for me, pretty girl.” You cum with a strangled yelp falling from your lips. 

“Good girl,” Hamzah moaned out, hips beginning to stutter. “Good girl, so pretty, so fucking pretty for me.” Your hands grabbed onto his curls tightly, yanking as you came down from your high. The feel of his dark strands being pulled so tightly sent Hamzah over the edge. Hips stuttering as he came, head buried deep into your neck, he let out a flurry of whimpers and praises. The two of you sat there for a minute, Hamzah breathing heavily into your neck. Just then, you heard the jangle and clank of keys outside of the door. Hamzah’s eyes locked onto yours, wide with shock and fear.

“Shit,” you say. Untangling your limbs, the two of you rushed to dress in five seconds flat. You threw yourselves onto the couch, sitting on opposite ends just as Mandy and Martin opened the door and returned.

“The cinema was closed, guys,” Martin announced as he took off his coat and boots, Mandy close behind him. “Did you at least make up though?”

“Yeah, we did,” Hamzah responded, voice still rough and breathless. The couple finally came into your view, cheeks and ears red from the outside wind. You knew that the two of you were a strange sight: clothes rumpled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and something dirtier. You also knew that, ever the observer, it would be Mandy to notice.

“Oh my god!” she said, covering her shocked face with a hand. “OH MY GOD, MARTIN!” She yanked on his sleeve, jumping up and down.

“What?!” he asked. “I don’t get it.”

“They fucked, holy shit, they fucked,” she laughed and giggled, jumping up and down with glee. “You owe me a hundred dollars, Martin.”

[nouvxllev]

Could you possibly do a story where Tara and Y/N get caught in the middle of fucking by Sam??

(Can be Tara x Fem!Reader, Gp!Tara x Fem!Reader, or Tara x Gp!Reader.)

my sister!?

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x GP!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 4k

Warnings/tags: immediate smut, pretend the carpenters have a house and not a shared apartment in new york, protective sam carpenter!!!!!, no ghostface au

a/n: writers block is KILLING me, feelin like i cant write shit

masterlist.

An innocent study night with Tara was impossible.

"Tara—Tara, oh f-fuck, you're taking me so well..."

The sight of Tara beneath you should be a sin of its own; tears stinging her eyes locked on yours with mascara running down her cheeks, her soft, abused lipstick-stained lips parting for pathetic notes of moans and whimpers. Strands of hair lay in a mess on her mattress you relentlessly ruined her on every night she asked of you to.

Every sound she made drove you to closer to insanity, knowing you could worship her everyday for every sin you committed since meeting her. The way her body responded to the slightest thrust was intoxicating, addicting—so fucking addicting. Her fingers clutched on her sheets as if they could help her, knuckles turning white.

Tara's eyes fluttered open after rolling back in pure ecstasy, letting out soft moans with your cock fitting so right and full inside of her. She was barely holding out on her own, you were just so fucking hot and sexy like this, who could blame her?

"More," she cried, voice trembling while she wrapped her arms around your neck to bring you closer, "Please—Fuck! Y/n, y/n, please I—"

She moaned your name as if it was a prayer, her voice alone making your knees weak. Her body arched into yours, seeking more—always for more. Even with your hands steady on her hips, she moved with a mind of her own in her cock-drunk state.

Your grip on her waist tightened, fingers almost bruising her perfect, soft skin as you buried yourself deeper inside her. Her name fell shamelessly from your lips as you felt an aching knot forming in your stomach.

"Tara—I'm so... fuck, m' so close..." you breathed, pupils blown out as you locked eyes with her. Her eyes, everything about her was desperate, fuck, you both were.

Tara—breathless and spent from being so stretched—nodded frantically, her lips pathetically opening and closing almost immediately as if she could say anything other than your name and soft moans.

"Close.. close, too." She gulped, breath hitching, eyes rolling to the back of her head, feeling every inch of you so deliciously deep inside of her. "Fuck, don't stop!"

You were so close, so close to feeling Tara's walls clenching against you that could make every sense in your body go dumb fucking weak and numb, your name dangerously on the tip of her tongue while she goes onto levels higher than cloud 9 as you help her ride out her orgasm.

Close, Tara's so close, so close, fuck, fuck fuck—

When you came, Tara came down hard. Her figure perfectly arched as you rocked your hips back and forth inside of her, the both of you falling into silent moans and hot breaths.

"Tara... are you alright? Shit, Tara, you feel so goo..."

A door opened.

"What the fuck."

Sam. Carpenter. Standing.

You. Tara. On. Bed.

Sam Carpenter, Tara Carpenter. Carpenters.

You. Not Carpenter. Definitely not after today.

Sisters. Right-

FUCK.

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

How batshit, totally and flat out embarrassing it would be to be caught having rough sex with your girlfriend in the middle of the night at her house when you're supposed to be studying?

No, it would be fine, very fine actually if it was one of the gang. Hell, you'd take Mindy or Chad any day opening the door to see you and Tara fucking around. You'd live with it and wear it like a fucking badge of honor.

If it wasn't her damn sister.

Sam already despised you for being Tara's girlfriend! You couldn't even hold her close for more than thirty seconds without Sam threatening to grab a hammer and bash your skull in.

What's even worse than that is how she led you both down stairs after awkwardly cleaning up and she's now pacing back and forth in front of the couch Sam pushed you on.

"Sam, you're being overdramatic, we're not those sex-obsessed teens that need counseling." Tara, arms crossed with an adorable pout (you'd defend that pout to your last breath), tackled before her sister could even say anything. "I'm 21 for fucks sake!"

"Oh, Tara, don't even get me started—You literally just turned into the legal drinking age two fucking weeks ago!" Sam stopped in her tracks, pointing at Tara with probably the most killer eyes a killer would kill.

"So—!?"

Sam cut her off before Tara could even say anything, her gaze now directed towards you. "And you," oh shit, you were in for it, "My sister!? That's very low of you, Y/n—"

"Oh, y/n was definitely going low on—"

"Yup, okay, no, stop—Tara." You quickly covered Tara's mouth with your hand before she could further damage your already very rocky relationship with Sam. Come on, you still wanted to be invited to Thanksgiving and Christmas!

"Sam." You took a deep breath, "I am truly sorry for… uhm… doing that. I know that you're being protective and I too would hang myself if I ever hurt Tara in anyway—"

"Mostly sexually." Tara chimed in the background, a shit-eating smirk on her face.

Sam tilted her head like some kind of horror movie scare, "Do you wanna explain what the fuck I just heard from my younger sister, y/n?"

"No, no! I haven't hurt Tara in that way, I swear—!"

"Probably because it felt so good."

You turned to Tara, face twisted for dear life, "Tara do you want my ass kicked or not!?"

Sadly for your long-lived lifespan, Sam was already towering over you.

"It was an accident, I promise, and I—!"

"So you just accidentally slipped and magically ended up being inside my sister for hours?"

Okay, maybe suicide really is the better option. How the fuck do you even respond to that!?

"I—" Fuck, shit, fuck, dick, how do you breathe!? "Well, I... I wouldn't phrase it like that—"

"You know the walls are thin?"

"Y..yes, I'm very sure and—"

"The whole damn house was barely holding up, I thought a fucking 9.8 magnitude earthquake started when I opened the door!"

"We... We are so sorry—"

"And you're also sure that I'd eventually slit your throat in half?"

"Sam, please, I really am s—"

"You know I have a fucking taser in my pocket? The only reason that's restraining me from using it because Tara's sees you as someone alright."

"...Uhm, sweet, but Sam—"

You would thank the heavens for such an assertive and a somehow kind of rebellious to her sisters wishes girlfriend by how Tara stood up so abruptly that a very poor and sad excuse of an excuse in your mind went away.

"You want an apology, Sam?" She tilted her head as she stepped forward, "I'll give you a fucking apology." You know, for a 5 foot nothing girl, she can definitely throw hands. Or words.

"We... are sorry. Actually, Y/n's—"

"Oh my god." You whined in the background.

"Y/n's very sorry for fucking—"

"Okay, no, stop." You interrupted immediately. Why the term!? Infront of her sister!?

"Having sex—!"

"No."

"Intercourse—!"

"No."

"Having... Having coitus—!"

"No, why the hell would you use that!?"

"Making love!"

"Best you could do."

"Y/n's very sorry for being so damn good making love to me in bed, making my mattress squeak louder than a fucking banshee with her cock ramming and giving me multiple orgasms that Danny can't even—!"

"Alllright, I'm stopping you before you get legally disowned at the age of 21" You grabbed Tara by her arms and lifted her up before your entire sex life with her comes tumbling down on your girlfriends sister.

The room was silent. Almost too silent, you swear you could go deaf if more than a second even passes by. Not even a rolling surge of tumbleweed could make it seem less awkward than it is. Even your dignity left.

That was until you heard Sam taking a deep breath.

Before you knew it, you were kicked out of the house with Tara's voice behind you literally defending by describing, in horrific detail, how good you were in bed until Sam shut her up.

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

The walk home was and felt downright shameful, even the traffic lights refused to turn green for you. It's like you have a bindle attached to your palms to forever ingrain the memory of Sam's face while you were literally inches deep in Tara.

You crash into your apartment a minute later after fiddling with your keys, not even bothering to take off your coat. You just collapse onto the atleast comfortable carpet floor and let the mites decompose your entire body.

But not even god himself can let you mellow in your own embarrassment, sadness, awkwardness—literally all of the above—without your phone ringing at one of the worst times in your life. Soon you'll hope it'll be seven trumpets.

You blinked from your spot on the floor. It was too good and too much effort to even sit up properly and take the call.

With a soft groan, you roll over like a ragdoll, fumbling for your phone deep in your pockets. You were ready to decline right there and there, or maybe be a dick and answer just to hang up a second later after swearing at them.

Until you saw the name Tara Carpenter with a heart emoji beside it.

Of course, against your better judgment, you answer. How could you not?

"Can you come over?"

Tara's soft voice whispers over the phone, you can almost picture her twisting and turning on her bed, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

You sigh heavily, managing to croak out a response, "Tara... you know I can't—"

"Please?"

You swallow hard, heart pounding in your chest. She's using that voice that you're so sure could lead to you prison. You're just so glad you're not there in person to see her beautiful brown doe eyes.

You stand up abruptly, clearing your throat. "It's only been 30 minutes since Sam caught us and practically banished me from your home. How am I supposed to—"

"It’s like you’ve never snuck out before!"

"This time it’s serious, Tara! Pretty sure Sam literally hates my guts by now."

There's a pause that interrupts your thoughts, the line going completely silent, wondering if Tara got so irritated she actually hung up on you.

"...Tara?"

"I have windows." She responds, as if she's snapping her two fingers together, "You can sneak in through one."

You smiled. Of course she'd think of this now when all the times you've "snuck" in was through their door (surprisingly, it always worked in the middle of the night.)

"Thought Sam nailed them shut after hearing about a loose serial killer?"

"Found out it’s bullshit, just some teenagers having the trip to scare people for fun. Just—Please."

You roll your eyes, "Okay, well, I'm not going to risk my life—"

"You already are, I can hear you over the phone packing your shit."

Oh, how this girl knows you so well.

You zip up your bag while having your phone pinched between your ear and shoulder, "Yeah, see you in a bit."

The brunette chuckles over your words, you could already see her standing up and opening her window from the sounds you hear. Heavenly.

"Damn, you love me."

"Horribly. Say it back?"

"I will when you get here. Hurry, please."

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

It took a long while to reach the Carpenters' house and even longer to actually go up to Tara's window. Climbing a nearby tree and swinging over like Tarzan was a real pain in the ass.

When you finally reach her window, you see Tara lying on her bed, headphones blaring so loudly you can hear the music from outside, plus she's wearing an oversized graphic tee that you're pretty sure is yours.

"Tara!" you call out, knocking on the side of the wall, your shoes gripping the bricks as you wait for her to notice your figure clinging onto a roof for dear life just outside.

Tara doesn't hear you at first, courtesy of the headphones you bought her for her 18th birthday. You knocked a bit louder, but not too loud Sam suspects something.

You have half a mind to just go in unannounced when Tara finally looks up and immediately rushes over your side.

"You know, it's actually harsh to keep a girl wai—"

You were wrapped between her arms before you could even finish.

Tara's lips met yours in a way you melt instantly beneath her breathless, parting her lips and tilting her head to give herself better access inside of you.

She's soft in your arms, yet so eager by how she's gripping the collar of your shirt and pulling you as if you could be any more entwined.

"You kept me waiting." She breaks only to whisper, words coming in a rasp with her breath hot on your lips as she draws you in for more of her.

You're dizzy, hazed, intoxicated, completely fucked by how her tongue presses on yours so painfully heavenly and her teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. You could stumble around your words if she let you to speak. Your hands could go nowhere but on their perfect place on her waist.

Her fingers trail against your skin, tangling within the strands of hair only to pull you more closer to her, forcing your head to tilt at an angle that could make her invade all the right places inside of you.

You sigh in her mouth before regrettably pushing her away, "You wanted to see me?"

Tara's lips curve as she she presses herself against you, her hands traveling from your chest to your face, brushing her fingers gently against your cheek. The mere motion sending cold shivers down your spine that reminds you of your cock slowly growing beneath layers of fabric.

"Fuck that, I needed you." She murmurs, your heart running faster than the way her breathing goes after making out with you. Her hands seemingly wanting nothing more than to roam over your body, tracing all the way down to palm your growing erection underneath your shorts.

A low groan escaped your lips, yours hands finding their way down to softly cup the curve of her ass. "Tara please, don't..."

"Hm," she hums softly, brown eyes filled with nothing but lost gazing directly at your own, "You know I can't resist you, especially when I have you like this," Her voice is teasing. Tantalizing, even, marked with an innocent smile on her face as if she's not an inch away of giving you a handjob.

A chaste peck on your lips was enough for you to spiral and your dick to throb from its clothed prison, her fingers tracing lazy circles around your cock until she stopped at the dip of the waistbands of your shorts.

"You wanna fuck me first, or should I take the lead?"

Your mind raced, cock twitching from her voice alone, words spent while your breathing was anything but calm, pupils blown out and dilated as you looked at the brunette. But there's only one answer that she needed from you.

Without a word, your hands slid under her thighs, effortlessly lifting her up from the floor and straddling her figure down to her ass at your arms, earning a startled hum from the girl.

Her arms went around your neck, one hand trailing from your nape to the strands of your hair, pulling your head closer to her, meeting your lips in an immediate kiss that had Tara moaning and desperately bucking her hips.

You carried her to bed with her legs wrapped tightly around your waist while her hands lingered on your neck, fingers delicately tracing your jawline while she ravished your mouth alone.

Tara was sloppy with you, kisses so wet and desperate, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. She was filthy by how she gazed at you with eyes as if she was innocent, how she let her fingers roam your body in all the right places that had your dick leaking.

With a soft groan, you laid her down on the bed, your hands moving to grip her hips as she continued to explore your mouth, not once did she pull away. Not even to spare a breath.

But, you surrendered to her, pulling her away with a string of saliva connecting your lips together.

Fuck, she looked divine.

A sight you always saw in the middle of the night, yet not even the light could take you away from her. Lips stained with mixed saliva from the both of you. Even with your own inches away, her lips stay parted as she pants for air.

It took you a while before you even noticed Tara and you were completely naked, the small girl revealing to be wearing nothing the whole time you were there.

"Shit, Tara. You were wearing nothing but my shirt?" You rasped, breathing heavily while you placed your arms in between her head to push yourself up.

She smiled, chuckled even as she looked at you, hands traveling from your neck down to your chest, "You know I love putting on a show for you, baby." She winked as her fingers ghosted over your nipples, touch so warm and delicate before sliding lower, tracing the lines of your abs. "Fuck, you're so hot like this."

You shivered underneath her touch, even forgetting you were the one who brought her to such a state, yet you were the one who looked pathetic. Whining and completely whimpering on top of her.

You swallow hard, trying to maintain even the slightest bit of dignity and control. "Tara," you whisper, "You're driving me crazy."

She giggles softly, "Good," she murmurs before grasping your wrist and guiding your hand to the waistband of your shorts. "That's exactly what I want to do. Just fuck me, please."

You couldn't hold back any longer as you pulled down your shorts, boxers sliding down your waist as your aching cock springing out, slapping against your chest while it stood tall and hard for seven inches.

Your hand slipped between your bodies to grasp the throbbing length, tip dripping with pre-cum as your thumb grazed over the slit. "Wanna see how good you take me, Tara." You wrapped your fingers around your cock, stroking it up and down as you guided it along her slick folds. "Fuck, you're soaked."

"Stop… Stop teasing, please, oH GOD!"

Tara's hands frantically had a tight grip on your shoulders as you shoved every inch of you inside of her, breath erratic as she tried to suppress every moan down in her throat, her back arching off the bed as you penetrated her so deep

The intense stretch made her eyes flutter open, rolling into the back of head, letting out tears from the pain as her toes curled in pleasure.

You weren't holding up either, she took you so well, her red velvety and slick walls tightening around your cock drove you into a haze. Her nails leaving red marks in their wake on your back, the atmosphere filled with the sounds of skin against skin, gasps and moans of pleasure from Tara increasingly getting louder.

"F-fuck… Oh, fuck!" She gasped, moving her hips to the rhythm of her trusts as you grabbed both of her legs and pulled her closer to you, "Yeah.. Yeah, right there baby!"

All you could think about were her soft moans, face crying from a mixture of pain and pleasure from being stuffed to the brim, keeping a steady pace that had her a moaning mess on your hands.

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

You know, Sam always had weird dreams. Weirder than the next, gory than anything from the amount of horror movies she watched along with her younger sister, Tara.

Anything you could do to Sam, she would barely give one or two fucks. Scary movie? More of a boring sit-com that tries to give characters motive and plot some development. Jumpscare her? Reality or movies, either way, you're getting a jumpscare yourself by a hospital bill after she's done with you.

She fears nothing. Except when she woke up just now, hearing her younger sisters voice down the hallway from her room.

Oh my fucking, GOD.

She hopes it'll be a dream, she'd take anything but this. Ever since Tara got a girlfriend, you were nothing but a pain in the ass for her. I mean, she trusts you, sure, but not that enough.

The older Carpenter gets up almost immediately, eyebrows furrowed while her heart heaved with anger. And most probably wrath, and an apology to Tara if she ever found out that her girlfriend was bashed on the skull by her sister.

Every walk she made, the noises got louder yet softer. By the time she was at her door, the noises dropped. Was it all a dream? A nightmare maybe? She'd take that any day.

"Tara!" She yelled out as she took notice of the light illuminating on the creaks of her room., softly knocking on her door. Even if you were there, it's still a 50/50 chance that Tara's actually sleeping. Or sleepwalking even.

She waits for a second.

Then two.

Three.

Four—Okay, no, she's opening the damn door.

She turns the doorknob and immediately bursts into the room. Her eyes scanning the space for any signs of you.

There doesn't seem to be anything.

Her eyes immediately spotted Tara. Or maybe half of her peeking out of the soft blanket with a pillow in between her legs. The only thing that seemed out of place was her window open.

She was about to move a lazy strand of hair away from her face, her hand was already hovering over her body. That was until Tara moved on her own. Murmuring something about some TV show. Or a cinema date, whatever it is that involved your godforsaken name.

"Thank God, that scared me." Sam whispered to herself before going over to Tara's bed, eyes still wandering over Tara's sleeping (?) face before standing up and leaving the room.

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

You popped out of the blanket that was covering both you and Tara after giving her one of the best orgasms she's ever had. But the heart attack you both experienced when you heard Sam's footsteps was not fucking it!

A tense breath escapes your lips, relief flooding through you as you look at Tara, post-orgasm. Her eyes are dazed, a silly smile adorning her face.

"Tara, seriously, do you never lock your doors?" you whisper to her, arms sliding on her back to flip the both of you over. Your hands cupping her cheeks, trailing her jawline while you tucked a strand of hair behind her ears.

Tara's laughter rings out softly in the quiet, her cheeks flushed with her chest heaving. There was always something you loved about her smile, her laugh. Sure it was because it was like a taste of heaven as some pathetic human, but… Dimples. Dim-fucking-ples.

She rolls her eyes, letting her head fall on your collarbone. "I have Sam Carpenter in my bloodline, it's pointless."

"Don't be so hard on her." You stroke her hair gently, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "She's just looking out for you," you remind her, tone soft with understanding.

She sighs against your skin. "She's overdoing it. Like, I can throw a punch. Did you not see the fight I pulled with that dick from a party in the middle of nowhere may I remind you? I could've sworn Mindy sent the video to you!"

"Yeah Tara, but you're also an A24 chick who could memorize the full script of The Babadook, I love you for it baby." You laughed. "But Sam is just looking out for you. Especially me, I literally just fucked her sister in her house."

Tara looks up at you. Batting her eyelashes and smirking while she tilted her head, planting a chaste kiss near your lips, but not near enough you could taste her. "And you fucked her so well."

"We are not having another round, Tara."

"You know me so well it's fucking irritating. Can you just not?" She scoffs, but only playfully.

"But you actually should lock them, it's a safety hazard."

"Mhm, and you should let me ride you." She turns to the side, falling over your body, her hands tracing the soft dips and your toned abs.

"After that heart attack? No, Tara."

"Yeah?" She cocked her head, "Then why not give me more reasons why you're still hard."

"Oh..." You looked down. Fuck, you are. "Oh, fuck you."

"I'm hoping you will."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head before turning to her side, "By the way, you never said the thing."

She wrapped her arms around your body as you faced her. "Oh, what thing this time, baby?"

You sigh.

"I love you."

Tara laughs. She knew what you wanted.

"I love you too."

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

a/n: im back!

[quimichi]

₊❏❜ ⋮ MEETING THEIR FAMILIES -HEARTSLABYUL VER.

warnings: bad treatment towards reader (Riddles part), bad writing :3

summary: You meet their families

characters: Heartslabyul x F!Reader

word count:

a/n: I originally planned to do all in one part but I decided not to since it's so so much and I'm currently having a writers block but I wanna make you guys happy so-its in parts :(

Riddle

Riddle's mother is a strict woman, and she does not hide her dislike for you. She frowns the moment she sees you and crosses her arms. The situation is tense as she watches you, her gaze sharp and unblinking. She seems to be considering your motives with her son, but it is clear that she has a low opinion of you for some reason.

Riddle is nothing compared to her; he has no power, he's weak standing beside you. Yet, he stands proud, he loves you and no matter what his mother will say, his mind won't change. "Mother," he begins. She shoots a hard look at him. With that stare, she seems to say 'do. not. talk."

Riddle goes silent. He knows that if he does talk, it might ruin her approval...if that will ever happen. But you decided to speak up, nervously, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you! Riddle has told me so many lovely things of you!" you bow down, showcasing your respect. His mother's expression does not change. She seems to consider you for a while before speaking:

"Do you think yourself worthy of my son? Do you think you are a good match for him?"

It's clear that she is sizing you up, and her gaze is piercing.

"Yes." Riddle grabs your hand and gives it a tight squeeze. Showing you his support, no matter what he won't back out either, cause he knows whats coming. Your words only draw a frown from his mother. Her expression turns sour.

"I do not think you can give my son the life he deserves. You are too low class for a nobleman. It is clear why you would date him, but what do you have to offer us? It would disgrace his name and our family to wed a commoner. A magicless commoner!" She continues to size you up. She is relentless. Her frown only hardens with every passing moment.

"My son is a nobleman. He deserves a woman of nobility. Riddle dear, I know the perfect girl for you she-" "No!" His voice rings through the halls with booming thunder.

"How dare you," he shouts, his eyes like daggers. He looks as though every muscle is about to tense up so hard it'll burst. "She is good enough. She is worthy of my love. There is no one in this world who I will ever love and admire more! If you don't agree with this relationship then-!...Then I might just leave.

Riddle is standing protectively in front of you now. His heart is thrumming so hard he can feel each pulse. His last words were spoken unsure, timidly, but it's the truth.

"...Then do."

Trey

Trey's parents are thrilled to meet you. The moment they saw you at their doorstep, they took you into their family. They are gracious hosts, offering you food and drinks as soon as you step into the house. Everything is warm and welcoming. Not to mention the cake they baked for you!

The afternoon tea goes smoothly, with conversation flowing as easily as a river. "Again, thank you so much for the tea and cake! It was absolutely delicious!" "It was nothing," Trey's mother says as she refills your mug. She smiles warmly, keeping herself composed with effort. She has heard a lot about you, after all, and the impression she has received so far has been wonderful. Its hard for her to contain her pure excitement, she might explode. All her husband can do is calm her down with a hand on her shoulder, smiling both at you and his wife.

Trey doesn't dare say anything, his lips pressed shut in a smile as he watches from his place. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself, content to watch you and his parents interact.

"BROTHER!" You hear two voices yell from the hallway...seems his siblings arrived from school. Trey's young siblings finally make their grand entrance, their voices filling the room with an unexpected cacophony of excitement and joy. The scene is a chaotic one, but in a good way.

His younger brother runs up to you immediately, "Oh-Oh-! You're the pretty girl-!" Before you can question anything his sister also tunes in, "Ohhh-! She really does look as sweet as gum drops-!" "You two, shush immediately-! I'm so sorry-!" Trey's mother apologizes for the behavior of her youngest children, but you shake it off. How could you ever be upset about the honesty of those sweethearts. You definitely will have a word with Trey once you get back...

Cater

Cater never kept it a secret, how much he despises his sisters and mother sometimes. More than once he told you stories. But he has also told you that slowly, the relationship gets better...slowly.

Cater's mother is especially overbearing. She tries her best, but she seems almost incapable of not adding only their favorite sweets to the tablem. She is a bundle of nerves, and she often dotes on Cater. It's as if she finds comfort in treating him like a child, because he is so quiet and calm. Yeah, quite and calm, if only they knew who he truly was.

"Thank you so much for having me." a genuine smile sets on your lips as she pours tea into your cup. "We are so glad to have you," Cater's mother says with genuine warmth.

His sisters continue to prod you in both questions and comments, being too forceful and tactless at times. They think they're being endearing and curious, but don't quite realize that they're over stepping. Cater sits beside you, his eyes darting back and forth as the questions keep flowing. Hes annoyed, of course they will ask inappropriate questions and take the attention.

"Where was the first kiss?" "Ohhh my god did he use his tounge?" "Cater, your hair today looks frizzy." "You look cute but...that top with those jeans...i don't know. Cater you should really watch what your girlfriend wears!" "Yeah! Spend some money on her, damn." "Bad boyfriend."

The constant barrage of questions and comments from his sisters would make even the most stoic people wither. You are not one of those people - you are more patient than you ever realized. You smile through the barrage of words, answering most that you can, ignoring the rest. It hurts, some hurt. You get Cater now to 100%. Your calm demeanor and soft eyes would calm anyone's heart, but his sisters are a bit too persistent, their endless questioning seeming to have no end.

This goes on for some time, until Cater is visibly agitated. "Stop," he says under his breath. He is usually calm and collected, so it draws everyone's attention, even his mother's. "What?" One of his sisters finally asks, feigning innocence.

"Enough," he says simply, but his tone is enough to get them to back off.

He takes a few breaths before giving his mother and sisters a smile. The situation diffuses, but you can sense that he is annoyed. "I just wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend, we didnt came here for an interview. Her outfit is perfect, and I'm NOT a bad boyfriend! I know I'm not..."

Ace

Ace's older brother is charming, witty, and well-liked by everyone. He teases his little brother without any cruelty, making lighthearted jokes at his expense. He is very protective of Ace, he just wants his little brother to be happy. And obviously he wants him to behave in this relationship too.

"He has spoken of you a lot," the older brother comments, his tone teasing. His brother wiggles his eyebrows towards him,  "A bit too much, it seems," Ace says, keeping his voice low, but you hear the annoyance.

"I can't help but hear all about you whenever he's calling me... how much he cares for you, how he's so lucky to have you..." his brother's tone is good-natured. He's just having fun, and hes so glad his brother found true happiness. "Ohh, what else did you say?" Ace can hear the teasing in your voice, no way you're going into this too. "Shut up-!" "Oh, you know," the older brother laughs. "He says you are the sweetest, most beautiful being in the whole wide world. You're an angle with the patience you have for him. He would do anything for you without a second thought. He swears he has never loved another as he has you."

"What a mushy little guy my brother can be," his older brother says, sounding amused.

Ace is turning red. His voice comes out slightly strained, cracking. "I-! I NEVER-! Shut up I never said anything like that, that's way to sappy!" "Mhmmmm, sure bro, sure" His older brother smiles, genuinely.

"I've never seen him so happy," he says, "He's truly a good guy, he just has some rough edges. I'm glad someone like you took their time to get to know him...Take care of him for me."

Deuce

His mother beams. "Oh! This is the one you've been telling me about? You've done well. She is a beauty!"

Deuce's face is tomato red. He is the picture of nervousness, his eyes darting about the room with his mouth clamped shut for fear that he will say too much or too little. His mother's enthusiastic and effusive approach is overwhelming him. He wants to sink into the floor, damning himself for telling his mother and grandmother about you so much. "We are so delighted to have you here. Please," his mother continues, offering you her seat. "Sit, sit! No need to stand around!"

She smiles widely at you as she gestures to a plush chair across from them. A low table separates you, and the three of you are arranged across from one another. Deuce's grandmother walks slowly behind his mother, bearing a tray of tea and pastries in her hands. Without a word, she sits down and quietly offers one of the small cakes to you.

She doesn't take her eyes away from you, smiling wide. You can't help but smile back at her, but before you can thank her she leans closer to Deuce mother. "Perfect aren't they? I knew someone wil eventually see that our Deuce is a catch." She wasn't as discreet as she thought she was, but you can only agree with her, Deuce is a catch.

"Thank you so much-!" "It's nothing, dear," she says, her voice soft as velvet. His mother breaks the silence, leaning forward in her seat. "Now then, tell us all about yourselves. We have heard plenty from our son, but we want to hear from you."

Deuce is paralyzed. He has nothing ready to say. His mouth is dry and his heart is pounding in his chest. Although he is more than happy both his most loved family members love you, he is still nervous. It's embarrassing! "Wait-!" His grandmother immediately stands up from her seat. She disappears and reappears with a thick photo album. She settles back down and opens it.

"Now, let me show you my handsome boy when he was young. I think this is a much better idea!"

Deuce's head falls back, someone kill him. His heart stops at the pictures of himself....fuck...he's naked....

[latenightdaydreams]

Can I request something? So I pitched this idea to someone else but honestly you're one of my favorite könig writers and would love to see your take on this.

So könig and his team are sitting around drinking on their off time and they start sharing pictures and videos of their girlfriends and wives or just women they've been with, and they eventually all look to their colonel like "we know you have a wife/gf/whatever, show us your girl!!" he says no first but these guys are drunk and annoying so eventually he gives in and is like. "Fine. One. And then shut up." And he shows them this absolutely *mean* video of cute little petite reader who can barely take his cock without breaking inhalf, his hand around their throat and slapping their faceand the guys are just like 👁👁💦 while könig is low key like "liebling, shatzi, Sonnenschein" heart eyes at the video. Just... könig who is an absolute bully in bed but so sweet and in love otherwise and the way that intersects is so delicious to me

Yes🩷🩷 I think his team would be absolutely speechless 🤭

Show and Tell (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, showing off, p in v, hitting, choking

📱

.

.

König was in the common area, drinking with the men in his squad. A beer in one hand as he sits quietly, observing everyone around him. Once the liquor flowed, the conversation turned sexual. Just a group of men that haven’t seen their partners in months, everyone is pent up.

Being the private person he is, this isn’t exactly his favorite topic of conversation. He looks back and forth as each man speaks, not really paying attention to any of the photos or videos as he begins to zone out. The sound of his name being called snaps him out of it, his eyes looking over to the man.

“Colonel, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Show us your girlfriend.”

“Fiancé.” He corrects him as he takes a swig and sits up.

“Okay, fiancé, my bad.” The man says sarcastically. “Show us.”

König waves him off with his hand, but soon the group all chimes in and pesters him. It’s one voice talking over the other, only getting louder. He lets out a deep sigh and finishes the bottle in his hand before setting it down.

“Fine. One. Then I want everyone to shut up.”

The group begins to cheer as König shakes his head, laughing under his breath at their drunken stupidness. He reaches into his pocket to pull out his cellphone. As he scrolls, the men impatiently pester him to hurry up. That’s when he decides on the most recent video the two of you made together.

When König turns his phone to them, they were all expecting to see a tall woman who was probably insanely buff like he is. What they see instead causes their jaws to drop. You’re tiny. König’s cock looks to be the length of your abdomen, yet it disappears into your small cunt; painfully stretching you out.

König’s massive hand wraps around your neck like a necklace, your moans coming out strained from how tight he’s squeezing. His hips slam into your body at a merciless pace as he verbally degrades you in German. Once he releases your neck to give you a moment to breathe, he slaps you harshly across the face, grabbing your jaw right after.

“What are you?” König growls.

“I’m your slut.” Your voice is raspy from being choked.

The moans leaving your lips are more like screams as he continues to bully himself deep inside of you. He focuses the camera on your pretty pussy, pulling out to slap your swollen, sensitive clit. Your body tenses and jerks forward as you plead with König for him to give you his cock again. He continues to make you beg as he slaps your pussy sore before finally shoving his cock back inside of you.

Your gummy walls squeezing around König’s massive cock pulling a deep groan to drip from his lips. He sits the camera down on the nightstand, making the massive size difference between the two of you even more obvious. As if you weigh nothing, König lifts you off the bed and holds you in his arms, bouncing you up and down on his cock as if you were nothing more than a sex toy.

The room is completely quiet, no one even taking drinks as they focus on the video. Seeing the brutality with which König uses your petite body is absolutely insane. Each man rocking an insane hard on, as König basically shows them hardcore porn. A few of the men are even slightly worried about you. When they look at König, they can see the sides of his eyes crinkled up as he smiles, a look of tender love in his eyes.

“Th- that’s your fiancé?” One man finally speaks up.

“Hm?” König snaps out of it and looks at him. “Ja, that’s mein Schatz.” His voice sounding oddly soft.

“She’s so small though.”

“Mhm, she’s precious, isn’t she? My whole world.”

The men look at each other slightly confused with his tender tone. That all goes away when their eyes drift back to the video, wanting to see more. König pulls his cock out, showing how gapped your little pussy is after taking him. Thick globs of his cum dripping from you as you hold your legs up. Your body is visibly trembling from the extreme sex you just had with König.

König takes a while to let his eyes linger on the beautiful sight of your spent body on his phone screen before putting his phone away. He lets out a little sigh as he looks at everyone. It was clear they were still in shock after seeing what he does to you and how you just take it. A few men have to adjust themselves as they replay what they just saw in their minds.

“Damn, Colonel…”

“I know, I’m a lucky man.”

[greenorangevioletgrass]

give me a minute (2/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: established former relationship, discussions of separation and divorce, discussions of moving on, luca and reader has a son, brief mention of blood and minor injury, smut 18+ (fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, size kink? idk luca's big, dirty talk, creampie) notes: it's finally here! thank you everyone for your patience, i am a slow writer by nature and life gets in the way, but i finally got around to finish it! happy reading, and do comment, reblog, and send me asks to tell me what you think <;3 ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted for my latest fics ✨

<<< read part 1 here >>>

06.13 PM

Your apartment has never felt so claustrophobic after that little moment you shared with Luca. You try to stay busy in the next hour —tidying up Alfie’s room even after he made it up, checking your email four times, even doing the laundry, for fuck’s sake— as Luca keeps to himself in the kitchen area. Whether Alfie is obliviously enjoying his screen time or purposely ignoring the weird tension between his parents, you’re not entirely sure. Right now, you’re just grateful that he’s not saying anything at the moment.

The boy simply creeps up to the kitchen counter with a shy eagerness about him. “How long ‘til dinner, Dad?”

“3 more minutes, Chef,” Luca answers, focused on the task at hand, so poker-faced that it makes his son giggle.

“I’m not a chef, you’re a chef!”

“Well, where I work, we call everyone in the kitchen ‘chef.’ Out of respect.”

Alfie climbs onto the dining bench in interest, peering up to watch his father set the dish on the plates meticulously. Luca doesn’t miss how the boy deeply inhales the delicious smell in the air.

“Smells yummy.”

“Thank you,” Luca replies, his excitement seems muted although his heart is soaring. He looks up to find Alfie staring at the plate, chin propped up on his little fist. You’ve always said that he looks just like his dad, but in that moment, Luca only sees you. Alfie has the way your mouth tugs ever so slightly into a smile, the way your eyes shine in childlike wonder. In quiet thoughtfulness.

No Michelin star, earned or retained, would ever amount to this.

“Can you go get your mum and tell her dinner’s ready, please?” He softly asks Alfie, as if not wanting to disrupt this peaceful silence. “Thank you, Chef.”

“Yes, chef.” The six-year-old salutes him and pads over to your home office, which doubles as the guest bedroom. The door is open, and he sees you reorganizing the linen closet with your back to him. He hugs you from behind, startling you.

“Oh!” You put your hand on his head, stroking him lightly. “Hey, bub.”

“Daddy told me to come get you and say dinner’s ready.”

“Gotcha. Thank you.” You half-expect him to run off like he usually does, but he lingers, his arms still wrapped around you. “What’s up, bubbie?”

“Nothing.” He buries his face against your side. “Love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, bubbie.” This makes you smile, pleasantly surprised at this seemingly random admission.

“Love Daddy too, but don’t tell him that,” he whispers as he looks up at you, putting his forefinger in front of his mouth.

“Why not?”

“Sometimes he gets sad when I say that,” he murmurs. “He doesn’t tell me, but I know it.”

Oh. His playful exterior sometimes makes you forget just how emotionally sensitive he is. And it breaks your heart that he can see through the complicated adult emotions with his childlike eyes. 

“Alfie…” you level with him and pull him closer, “Your dad loves you very very much, and I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that. He’s just sad because… he’s been away, and he misses you a lot.”

“He should come home, then.”

It’s so simple, the way Alfie puts it. His Dad comes home and reunites with him and you, and his puzzle would piece together perfectly again. And you all live happily ever after. The end.

The truth, of course, is not so simple. But maybe, just for tonight… Maybe you and Luca can sacrifice a few of your own puzzle pieces. For your baby boy.

So you get back on your feet and guide your son out of the room. “Come on, bub. Let’s see what Daddy cooked for us, hm?”

When you and Alfie turn the corner into the kitchen-living area, Luca is wiping the side of the plate neatly. He smiles at you somewhat nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, so you throw him the figurative olive branch.

“Smells amazing,” you compliment him as you and Alfie take your seats. “What are we having, Chef?”

Luca’s eyes light up and your heart stops. You stopped calling him ‘Chef’ long ago, when the moniker became synonymous with workaholism and neglect. But there’s no venom in the way you say it tonight. Call him sentimental, but it reminds him of the early summer days in the tiny apartment you first shared in Chicago.

Of blueberry pies and barely there bumps.

He has to remind himself that this whole ‘happy family’ shtick is just a charade now, it’s all for Alfie, it doesn’t mean anything for the two of us, but he can’t help but miss this.

And little does he know, so do you.

“Well, buckle up, you guys, because we are having…” He carries the plates over and serves it to you and Alfie with a flourish, “Baked sweet potato wedges with Mediterranean dip, and our pièce-de-résistance… Alfie’s Nuggies.”

It looks nothing short of beautiful, with the wedges fanned out like autumn leaves underneath a colorful burst of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, and feta cheese. The chicken nuggets are rich golden brown against the brilliant white plate. The splatters of sauce (is that Tahini?) is a hint of thoughtful chaos on the dish.

Your six-year-old let out a little noise of awe and amazement next to you, but no sound escapes you—not for the longest time.

“This is…” you look up at Luca as if he would have the word you’re looking for.

But his blue eyes just look a lot like I love you.

“Thank you,” you ultimately say, with absolutely no pretense whatsoever.

And if he does hear an ‘I love you’ hidden somewhere in there… he hopes he’s not imagining things.

*** 

08:37 PM

If you could travel just a few hours back in time and tell yourself that you would spend the whole day stuck at home in a nasty storm with your son and his father that you’re divorcing—and that you’d be okay with it, you would’ve probably scheduled yourself an MRI scan because clearly something is wrong.

But the night is winding down. Luca is tucking Alfie into bed for the first time in months. You are washing dishes in the quiet accompaniment of steady rain and running water, and everything feels just right.

“He’s out like a light,” Luca informs you quietly as he reemerges from Alfie’s bedroom and stops right by the kitchen counter. “Need a hand?”

“Nah, I’m just about done,” you casually wave him off. “You want anything to drink?”

“Uh… what do you got?”

“Scotch, gin…” you pause, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. The sink tap squeaks a little as you shut it off. “...wine.”

His heart skips. Don’t overthink it, he reminds himself. “Red or white?”

“Take your pick,” you shrug nonchalantly. 

Luca reaches up to see the bottles of wine you have in store, and you try not to pay too much attention as his shirt rides up around the waist—or the sleeve, showing off the remnants of Alfie’s crayon work over his inks… you’re just two co-parents hanging out. It’s normal, right?

“What about the Malbec?” he eventually chooses, taking out the bottle.

He’s always loved Malbec—this particular brand of Malbec you brought him when he first invited you for dinner on your third date.

Don’t overthink it, you remind yourself. “Yeah, sure.”

You pick up two wine glasses and set them down on the dining table, shuffling into the corner bench. Luca settles into the other bench, directly against the kitchen counter, pouring the wine onto both glasses.

“How many bedtime stories did Alfie manage to get out of you?” you pipe up, swirling the purplish liquid around.

“Just one…” he sips on his wine thoughtfully. “Although he made me read it three times.”

You smile, bemused. “Which one was it?”

“‘The Bear Who Did.’”

“Ah, yeah. He’s been into that one lately,” you muse. “But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you to tuck him in tonight.”

The two of you exchange a soft look. A ceasefire. A truce, at least when it comes to your son. Because you really do want Luca to have a good relationship with Alfie.

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry you had to… make do with spending the day with Alfie here.”

He shakes his head softly. “Nah, don’t be. I had a good time. It’s nice to just hang out… at home.”

At home, the words echo in your head.

With you, they echo in his, loud and unsaid.

“So, uh… how have you been?”

“Ah, you know how it is. Work is kicking my ass—my current client’s only two blocks away, but the house is a total fixer-upper, and Alfie’s… Alfie.” You don’t want to backtalk your own son, although you both know how trying he can be sometimes. “But it’s all good. My mom helps out with Alfie, and Jess insists that I go out and live a little every now and again.”

“And do you? Live a little?”

“I mean, within reason. I can’t go clubbing ‘til 4am anymore. I think I’m getting old…” you stretch your arms, feeling that soreness just from your daily activities.

Luca grins, raising his glass. “I hear you. I don’t even really go out anymore.”

“Seriously?” 

“Mm-hm.”

You make an incredulous face. It would make sense for you not to go out much, with Alfie and everything. But he was alone, abroad… “Why, though?”

He just shrugs lightly. “I’m working. Whenever I’m off, I mostly just… eat or sleep.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” You take a dubious sip. You both know how much Luca enjoys grabbing a cheeky pint. He’s British; it’s in his blood, goddammit.

“Oh come on…”

“You don’t even go out drinking or whatever? Meet people?”

His gaze flashes towards you almost playfully. “Do you?”

Your face falls, not expecting to be caught so off-guard with such an innocent question. And upon seeing that, his face falls. Shit. And with that, the air between you shifts so dramatically.

Stupidly, you still try to save the conversation. “Of course my friends and I go out—”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice darkens, his blue eyes piercing through you. 

This conversation is a long time coming. It’s a natural progression of your relationship—or the lack thereof. You separate, you get divorced, and eventually you move on. Two years is a more than acceptable time to start dating again. And still, you phrase out your next words very carefully.

“I’ve been on dates here and there…”

Luca sucks in a slow, calculated breath. “Does Alfie know?”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious so far.”

He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that it’s nothing serious, or that you’re holding out for something serious in the future.

“Look, we both know this is happening sooner or later…”

“I know,” he quickly recovers—or as much as he can recover. He just stares down the stem of his glass.  “It just… It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”

“I understand.” The wine feels like gravel down your throat, and the words coming out of your mouth feel like throwing up a boulder.

“Because I do miss you.”

Your eyes immediately dart over to his, as if you’re not sure you heard it right. “Luca…”

“I miss you everyday. I miss us. I miss everything we used to have.”

Your heart catches—no, stops altogether at his admission. “Luca, we can’t do this anymo—”

He swallows thickly, his jaw setting as he braces himself. “I’ve been thinking about it everyday—the whole time I���m away, and frankly, I’m kicking myself over not telling you this sooner.”

“That’s probably just the homesickness talking.” You turn away. This can’t be possible. This can’t be happening. What the fuck?! “It got you reminiscing about the good old days. Give it time, you’ll come around.” You try to maintain a neutral, distant, cold approach to this, although the crack in your voice betrays you.

“No. That’s not it.”

“Then what the fuck is it?”

Your words cut through the quiet apartment like a flash bang. Luca stops dead in his tracks in his shock, and honestly, so do you. Awful silence hushes over the room, and both of you are almost too afraid to break it. Neither of you even dare to move.

After what seems like forever, Luca moves first. A tear escapes his eye, and he wipes it away with his knuckle hurriedly. “Noma should’ve been a dream. And it is, in a way. I guess.” He stares blankly ahead, his life in Copenhagen replaying in his head like it’s on fast-forward, and the playback seems to just highlight how lonely he is there. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly miserable there. I get up and go to work and I just feel empty. Because what’s the point? You and Alfie are way over here, being a family while I’m… doing what?” He wants to tear his hair out, because this is everything he’s dreamed of, and yet he is living the stuff of nightmares. “It makes no fucking sense.”

It makes even less sense to you. You can’t even begin to process this tangled mess in your head. “Luca… we are almost officially divorced. You’re telling me this now? When everything is—”

“I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I should just… let you cut your losses and—”

“The best for me? How the fuck did you think giving up was the best way forward for me?” The thought of it burns your eyes with angry tears. They melt, and you don’t do a thing to stop it from running down your face. “You didn’t think to fight for us while you still could?”

Luca’s heart aches to see that. He is dying to reach out and wipe them away, but he can’t. His voice is quiet and small and almost childlike. “I tried. You were just so… sure about the divorce. You had it all figured out. And I… I thought you had no room for me anymore.”

“I had to keep it together. I had to figure it out—for Alfie’s sake. For mine.” You stare at your little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “I don’t see the point in being vulnerable with you anymore when you’re already set on leaving.”

The words have run out. The whirlwind of emotions has passed. What he feels and what he wants is now very clear.

“I shouldn’t have left.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” You wished he didn’t. Everyday for the last two years. And everyday you set yourself up for disappointment because, the truth of the matter is, he did leave. So you stop wishing. “Because I don’t know how to come back from this. I really don’t.”

Nothing that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. But it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it from the horse’s mouth. “It’s just… seeing you guys today… We were a family again. And I would do anything for us to be a family again. Please.”

You sigh heavily. “What else is there to do, Luca…?”

“We can, I don’t know, figure something out, go to couples counseling—”

You groan in frustration, Jesus Christ not this again, wanting to tear your hair out when— CRASH! You accidentally knock over your wine glass and it shatters as it hits the floor. “Shit…”

“Mommy?” Alfie calls you from inside his room, sleepy but alert.

The two of you freeze just before you can move out of your seat. Afraid the slightest of noises would rattle your son.

“Yes, bubbie?” you try to sound bright and normal. Maybe if you can convince him that everything’s fine, he won’t come running in panic. 

“What was that?”

“I just knocked over a glass, kiddo, everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

You and Luca wait a few seconds with bated breath. One, two, three… ten seconds go by, and there’s no movement in the bedroom.

The coast is clear.

You scramble down to pick up the shards of glass. The spilled wine looks like blood in the dim light of the room. It’s a painful reminder of the broken pieces of your former life, the casualties. He quickly follows suit, as if struggling to put it all back together. The irony is not lost on either of you, you’re sure of that.

“It’s fine, Luca. I got it, I—” a sharp piece of glass accidentally cuts your palm as you pick it up in hurry. “Fuck!”

“You okay?” He takes your hand as quick as lightning, wanting to inspect the wound, but you snatch it away.

“I’m fine.” You get up on your feet, teetering over to the sink, away from the crime scene, careful not to step on any piece of glass.

Yet he still follows you, walking over to where you’re standing now. “Come on. Let me just take a look.” He reaches out to your wrist, running little circles with his thumb to ease your grasp.

“It’s not a big deal…” you let him look anyway, you figure it’s easier to just let him do his thing than to argue your way out of it. 

His calluses are brittle against your palm, but he handles you with the gentlest touch. The wound is not too big or too deep, but the sight of blood marring your palm makes his heart drop. There’s no visible piece stuck to it, that’s a good sign, he thinks. He rips off some paper towel and wets it on the sink, and softly dab at the gash, cleaning the wound and wiping the blood off.

You grit your teeth, not wanting to show any sign of pain although it stings. “It’s just a little cut…” your tone bears less and less conviction, as if you have no energy left to argue with him on such a small matter.

There’s a very particular way his eyebrows arch when he’s deep in thought. The left one always sits slightly higher than the right. Blue eyes fixed on the object of his focus. A minute gesture behind the chaos in his head. “You need a Band-Aid,” he points out. 

“It’s in the—”

Luca is already opening the drawer next to the stove, taking out a packet of a Star Wars-themed Band-Aid. He still remembers where everything is, and you can’t tell whether the ache in your chest is a good or bad thing.

He puts the Band-Aid on your cut, then takes your hand close to kiss it better, like he used to do.

“Um.” You freeze in your tracks, taken aback. And it seems he’s just as equally as taken aback by his own action. He is flushed with embarrassment, and you feel your face growing hot as well.

He’s the first to break the awkward silence, quiet and tentative. “I’ll clean up the mess. You just hang tight.”

It seems so mundane, sweeping broken glass and cleaning the floor. His body registers it as a simple muscle memory—he must’ve cleaned up messes on this very spot a million times. But his heart is heavy with the burden of your history, and all the pain that comes with your separation. He might not be able to put the pieces back together, but maybe he can clean up the mess and make it nice again for you.

And all the while, you’re stuck to the kitchen counter, watching him so effortlessly reacquainted with his former home. It’s as if he never left. For a confusing moment, it feels like home again. How did you manage without this view, this presence for so long?

Luca puts away the debris in the trash, hidden away in another kitchen drawer next to you, and hovers in front of you, as if wanting to reach out and touch you… but too afraid you’ll push him away.

“Does it still hurt?”

You can’t tear your eyes off of his. The little cut on your hand is but a dull ache now, but the insides of your chest feels like it’s been mangled beyond repair. You burst into tears, sobs ripping through the seams.

His arms wrap around you, keeping your tattered pieces together. Your face is buried in his chest, surrounded by soft cotton and earthy perfume, and your first thought is you can’t remember the last time you were in his arms like this. You rake your mind through all the memories, all the times you hugged each other hello and goodbye and all the times in between, and you can’t remember the last time you stopped, why would you stop—

“My love…” Luca’s voice soothes you, so quietly murmured against your forehead with a soft kiss, yet rings so clear in your ears. He cups your face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay... I got you.”

The palm of his hand grazes your lips, and you kiss it the way he kisses your Band-Aid earlier. You have no energy left to fight whatever is going on inside you. You don’t understand the nagging urge to be away from him, when being close to him feels this good. You miss his touch and his voice and his face, and you’re so overwhelmed with longing that you close the distance between your lips and his.

Luca gasps when you kiss him—and it feels like the first breath he’s drawn in two years. Your lips are just as he remembers, just as warm and inviting and familiar, and he relishes coming home to them tonight. He didn’t think he would be so lucky ever again, but now you’re here, kissing life back into him again.

Against your better judgment, you stumble into the bedroom, careful to make as little sound as possible as you tread down the hallway. Still tangled in each other. Refusing to let go even for a second. His five o’clock shadow scratches your skin, following the trail of his lips down your neck.

You push him into bed and climb on top of him without a single thought. You need him close, closer than the past two years, closer than now, and your clothes feel like they’re in the way. Of his hands, of his mouth, of his warmth…

You tear your dress off and throw it away, and he stops in his tracks. He has every part of you memorized, every curve and every ridge, every notch of your stretch marks, every inch of your C-section scar from Alfie’s birth… and yet he’s looking at you for the first time all over again.

“Beautiful…” it escapes his mouth just like that, and you kiss him senseless in return. You worry that if you stop, the moment will pass and this whole thing turns out to be just an illusion.

Or worse, a mistake.

You tug his t-shirt over his head, trying not to linger on his broad chest too long. He gets the idea—he is dying to say something, but doesn’t—and just unclasps your bra in response. He keeps his mouth busy by kissing and licking and sucking your newly exposed breasts.

It’s not that you haven’t been touched like this in a while; it’s just that you haven’t been touched by him like this for so long.. “Luca…”

He never thought he’d hear that again. His name in a wanton sigh, uttered by the lost love of his life. He’s not one to waste his chance. “It’s okay. I got you, my love. I got you.”

Because for the first time in a long time, it’s true. He’s got you. He’s got your body underneath him, your nipple in his mouth, your sweet sex in his hand.

God.

You’re so soft, so warm, so wet against his fingers. The little stuttered moan you let out sounds absolutely heavenly. He remembers exactly the last time he was here.

Christmas Eve, two years ago. 

Things had been tense long before that, but Luca was home and able to spend some time with his wife and kid at last. You didn’t seem all that chuffed having him around—whether he was here or not brought out that “neutral look of displeasure” from you these days— but at least you didn’t pull away when he rested his head on your shoulder as the three of you watched Jurassic Park (Alfie’s all-time favorite). Didn’t roll your eyes and turn away when he kissed you and wished you happy Christmas before bed.

And he wanted so desperately for you to openly want him again.

So he tentatively deepened the kiss and reiterated his love for you in every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. Trying to convince you that he was still here. Trying to convince himself that with every orgasm he pried out of you, that you still wanted him there.

But you just… laid there and watched. Hands locked in on the sheets, not even touching him. Motionless as he went through the motions of his thrusts. Numb as he touched and kissed and fucked you the way you used to like. He was fighting a losing battle. He might as well have been making love to a ghost. 

“Luca…” Your breathless voice snaps him out of his own intrusive thoughts, more clear and alive and real than any memory of you posing no desire for him.

“I— yeah, sorry. I just…” he shakes off his own thoughts.

“Hurry up, come on…” you needily thrust yourself into his hand.

“You sure?”

No, and neither does he. But at this point, you’re much too stubborn about your decision in the divorce and much too prideful to admit that you want him back and maybe just a tad too eager to make a mistake with him.

So you nod your head yes, and with a searing kiss, he fingerfucks you the way you needed him to. 

“Oh, God… fuck…” you sigh under the undoing of his fingers. It’s like he never forgot how to work your body. His fingers play a pattern on your clit that makes you sing. And when one slides into you, crooking and curling against your silky heat…

“Luca, I— now.”

He unlatches his mouth from your nipple almost begrudgingly, as if too sweet to part with you. “Not yet, baby. We can’t…”

“What, why?”

“Because…” he nips at the smooth flesh of your chest thoughtfully. How can he explain it to you in a way that makes sense? “I want…” to take as much time with you as possible, he adds another finger inside you deliciously slow. “I need…” to feel you in every way first, he chants in his head as he kisses you through your orgasm.

Your resolve is slipping, but the craving is as ravenous as ever. You try to squirm in protest anyway. “But…”

“Please.” His lips press against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “I got you, okay?”

His blue eyes meet yours, as familiar as the sky you’ve walked under your whole life. As sure as day. And before you realize it, you find yourself nodding along.

Watching him slither further down your body. Mouth paving the way between the valleys of your breasts, up the diamond-hard tops of your nipples.

Down your torso.

Between your nether lips.

You don’t remember the last time you did this either. Memories of attempts to rekindle the romance flash before your eyes. The nights that he climbed into bed late at night after work, still smelling like chocolate or mint or whatever ingredient he was working with that day. Waking you up with the parting of your legs and hushed kisses saying, “Missed you so much, baby…”

“Right there. Yes…” you pant as he laps you up where you’re dripping, catching every drop and coaxing more at the same time.

His eyes close, and he swallows back a needy groan. “Come for me, baby.”

The words shoot right into your core, and you’re suddenly overcome with the waves of pleasure running through you, grinding your hips into his mouth shamelessly. Has he always been so greedy in the way he ate you out?

Your head is spinning with need and you hope the broken words you string up are comprehensible enough for him. “Luca, come on, I can’t—”

“No, please—” he seems to understand just fine, but still he shakes his head and buries his face deeper into you.

“Luca…”

“Wait, just let me—”

So insistent. So stubborn. So… needy. You grasp a fistful of hair on the back of his head. Both heaving, you breathe out,

“Please.” 

The word stops him in his tracks. But it’s not so much the word as it is the gravity that comes with it. Whatever the two of you are doing, whatever you’re feeling is beyond words at this point.

It’s just you and him and this need.

And as much as he wants—needs— to satisfy his hunger, there’s just no way of stopping you anymore. Truth be told, he’s not even sure why he’s been stalling you in the first place. Not when you’re so eager to tug his clothes off and touch him absolutely everywhere. To stroke him, and taste him…

“No, baby.” He stops you just before you slither down his body, settling you back on the bed and caging you underneath him.

You throw him a look, indignant. If he’s gonna hold it off some more, you swear to God—

“No, I…” he kisses you hard, hoping you’ll get that he wants you too. More than anything. And that he’ll give you what you want. Hell, he would give you anything if he could come back to this again for the rest of his life. “Just trust me, okay?”

You marvel at the sight before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With dark blond locks tousled in passion and eyes lidded from lust and longing, and it makes your heart stop because… there it is.

Love.

As much as you shut it out and as much as you avoid it, love is permanently etched to his actions. Tattooed onto the smallest of things. In the way he kisses your temple softly, and the way he caresses your skin as he aligns himself against you, and the way he holds you as he pushes in…

“Luca…” you gasp sharply.

He stops halfway into you, his eyes searching your face with compassion. “You okay?”

You’re aching and craving the stretch of him all at once, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, so you ultimately nod your head. I’m okay. 

And he knows that deep down. He feels the same. Soothed and tormented by your very presence, although he can’t help but ask, “Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t ask me to stop…

You shake your head quickly. Neither of you would ever dream of it. You would take everything—the weight and the sting of it all— and he would leave everything behind just to have this again.

Your hips colliding again in a frenzy of a rhythm you haven’t played in so long—still remembering every beat like it’s your own pulse. Your walls gripping him like you wouldn’t let him go.

He shudders a little. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that…”

“I don’t care,” you murmur into his neck with a kiss, “Come.”

“What…?” He can’t have heard that right… right?

“I want you to.”

“Jesus…” he breathes out. “I wanna make this last, baby—”

You shake your head again and wrap your legs around him almost demandingly. “I want you to come inside me and fill me the fuck up… want you dripping down my legs… please…”

“Fuck!” The images flash before his eyes faster than he can stop his hands from grabbing you by the hips, slamming himself into you. 

Nor can he stop himself from coming deep inside you.

There’s no way to describe the way he feels at that moment. The way tension peaks and snaps into release. How it brings you into your climax as well. Your lips must be swollen from the assault of your own teeth as you hold back the filthy noises coming out of you. You don’t mind the building ache in your thigh muscles, because as soon as that warmth fills you up, your body is overcome by waves of bliss.

“Fuck…” he flops back onto his side of the bed—the right side—and quickly gathers you in his chest. It’s an effortless little maneuver, making sense at last as you lay half on top of him.

Your hand finds his—more puzzle pieces coming together as he fills the spaces between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Surprised to find the gold wedding band still adorning his ring finger.

***

9:56 PM

“Was that really your first time since we… you know?” Your murmured question rings loud in the absence of the rain. The storm has finally passed, but neither of you move—neither even dare to bring it up— afraid to ruin the moment. 

“It was.”

“Not even in a casual, ‘no strings attached’ kind of situation?”

“No.” He looks almost embarrassed to admit it, but there is no hesitation in his answer.

“Wow…” your heart sinks. Is it possible to feel good and bad at the same time?

Luca pauses for a moment. You can see the conflict brewing in his head. “Did you?”

You don’t have to answer. The sheer silence you take is an answer enough.

The confirmation feels like shit, but he tries to stay neutral. His thumb stills on the back of your hand. “Can I ask how many?”

“Gosh, does that even matter?” You sigh. There’s another argument coming—you can feel it.

“No, I just… I wanna know.”

“You don’t really wanna know.”

“Is it a lot?”

“I mean…”

“How many?” 

You take in a sharp breath. There’s no way out of this now. If the truth is what he wants, then the truth is what he shall get. “Twelve.”

He tenses up next to you. The whole world stops, and you can’t help but think, it’s over. There is no way this marriage is salvageable now. “What…?”

“I know that it’s a big number, and I know you might be upset—”

“That is a big number.” He doesn’t say anything about the latter part of her sentence, but it’s obvious that he’s upset, too. “I just… why?”

“I was trying to get over you.” It’s a pathetic answer, but that’s all it is to it. “I couldn’t sleep in this bed for months. I just couldn’t. Slept on the guest bed instead,” you motion at the next room, “and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like a switch flipped inside my brain, and I needed to—”

“What?”

“I needed to… overwrite the memories of you,” you admit feebly. “On this bed. On my body.”

Knife, meet heart. He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but whatever it was, this hurts so much more. “And did it work?”

“Up to a point…” you pause, a sad smile in realization. “It’s funny. I keep getting bits and pieces of you somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

You close your eyes, your memories flashing, reminding you that every single time reminds you of Luca one way or another. “It’s… somebody’s perfume, or the timbre of their voice, or the way they hold my hand…”

“And you see me in them?” 

“Every single one.”

“Jesus…” Luca finds himself relieved and choked up at the same time. He doesn’t want you to ever get rid of your memories of him, but at the same time, it’s painful to hear that you tried anyway.

And you tried very hard.

“I’m sorry.”

He hums, and you realize… he hasn’t let go of your hand. Not once. Not even after your little confession. It makes the argument easier, knowing he’s there. It’ll be easier to part with him again after tonight, you hope, knowing you both did your best to understand. Why you needed to be apart. Why you did the things you did.

The armor has been shed, and the two of you are now naked, in every sense of the word.

Luca turns to look at you, studying your profile. He remembers the last time he was here.

He had just told you about Denmark. Stupid of him to feel excited, to tell you he’d just been offered his dream job, to ask you and Alfie to move someplace new with him, because it turned into a fight.

Worse than a fight; it was a death sentence.

You turned away and stared at the ceiling, and told him you couldn’t do this anymore.

And in some fucked up way, Luca feels as if he’d been brought back in time, and this is his one chance to make it right. So he asks you,

“Do you still love me?” 

You breathe out, heart clenching because in spite of yourself, “I do.”

“Do you want us to try again?”

“Luca…” you sigh heavily, “How would that even work? Alfie and I are here, and you have Noma–”

“No more Noma. I’m giving that up.” The answer is straightforward, and he surprises himself over how easily it rolls off of his tongue. How right.

“What? You wouldn’t…” Your face falls as you turn to him.

“I would. And I am,” he says firmly. “Look, I’ve thought about this for months now. I can’t do Noma anymore, I need to be home.” His gaze softens, and you feel the pattern running on the back of your hand again.

Slow and steady and certain.

The tear rolls off the corner of your eye and onto the pillow with the tiniest drop. “I wanted you to come home…”

“Then let me come home. Please?”

“I want to. I just…” you reach out and cup his face tentatively. “I just want to make sure that we’re not doing anything rash.”

His eyes light up. The only thing that matters is that you want him home, too. It takes him everything to let his logical part of the brain take control. “How about this, then?” Luca pauses thoughtfully. “We’ll take a minute. For me to sort out everything at Noma, find a replacement… and for us to figure out if this is really what we wanna do.

“If it starts to feel like a bad idea, maybe we should rethink it. But if it feels good… maybe we can give it another shot.

“And in the meantime, we’ll talk. We’ll FaceTime and… figure out what the hell to say to our lawyers.”

That makes you grimace. You were supposed to have another meeting with your divorce lawyers. Tomorrow is going to be awkward. But awkward beats saying goodbye to the man you’ve always loved, right? It’s a small price to pay.

“What do you say, baby?” He looks at you with all the hope that he has. “Just give me a minute to get everything sorted and then I’ll come home.”

You smile tearfully. “A minute is not enough… how about a month, hm?”

“Yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” He chuckles sheepishly. “A month. I can do that.”

“Good.” You sidle up to him and kiss him where his heart is. You’re willing to settle for having him just for the night, but you can’t wait until he comes home to you for good.

You hope he will.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Drunk N Nasty PT. II 🥂🩷✨ (poly!Pro!Bakusquad x Black!Fem!Reader NYE 18+ One Shot)

✨Pairing: poly!Bakusquad x Black!Fem!Reader

✨Synopsis: In which you and Mina didn’t learn your lesson the first time about pushing your boyfriends’ buttons, so you decide to once again do something you’re not supposed to at a boring NYE party when their attention is adverted somewhere else instead of on their pretty girlfriends. But they’re on the exact same type of time you and Mina are, so why not celebrate the new year in a way only they know how AND teach you a lesson about being good girls too?

✨Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Aged-Up!Bakusquad (Late 20s-Early 30s); Black-Coded!Reader (but anyone can still read this); Polyamorous; Established Relationship; Alcohol Consumption; Drunk Sex; Dubcon; Groping; Thigh Grinding; Dry Humping; Spit Play; Edge Play; Girl on Girl; Mutual Oral; Bondage/Tape Play; Shock/Electro Play; Daddy Kink; some DDLG; Spanking; Choking; Hair-Pulling; Facefucking; Spitroast; Degradation/Praise; Multiple Creampies/Throatpies; Facials; Some Aftercare

✨Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

✨Writer’s Note: Happy New Year & (almost) 2025, sweeties!!!! Sooooo I remember how much fun I had writing "Drunk N Nasty" so I decided to do one for NYE. I hope y'all enjoy it! Idk if I did as good of a job, but I still hope it's enough to scratch the deviant itch that y'all have like me lol. This one is still very NASTY tho -Jazz 💋💋💋

Read PT. I HERE!

************

“Baby?” Bakugou asks in that raspy, gruff voice that never fails to send tingles up your spine. “Yeah, babe?” “If you don’t want me to lift up that dress and embarrass you in front of all these people, I suggest you take your hand off my knee.”

The blonde, looking so scrumptious in his burgundy suit and undercut, is serious about his threat and you know it. He truly doesn’t give a fuck.

His lewd threat sends shockwaves throughout your body and makes the most forbidden part of you, the part of your body you should NOT be focused on at the moment, throb. Slowly, you slide your hand off of your boyfriend’s knee despite wanting so desperately to run it up his muscular thigh and grip his— 

“That too, Pinkie,” Bakugou growls, not even looking up from his menu for the party. “Hands off. Now.” Your perfect, pretty, pink pro hero girlfriend, who currently looks delicious in her backless mint green gown, begrudgingly takes her hand off Sero’s thigh. He, too, looks delicious in his suit just like the rest of your boyfriends sitting at your assigned table. 

“So bossy,” she pouts, her glossy lips puckered. Sero shrugs, grinning wolfishly at Bakugou. “I dunno…I kinda liked it. A lot, actually.” The platinum blonde glares at him over his reading glasses which only makes you hornier. Bakugou looks so goddamn good in glasses. “You’re a perv just like her,” he grunts. “Usually, I don’t give a fuck who sees us, but I’ll be damned if All Might looks over here and sees a hand on my cock.” 

He gives you a side-eye that makes you flush hot despite the gorgeous strapless red gown you’re wearing as part of tonight’s festivities. “So lewd,” you tut. “And you complain about us.” 

Suddenly, you smell familiar Gucci cologne and your stomach flips. “He’s not the one gropin’ you though, is he, naughty girl?” Denki asks, his lips suddenly at your ear. “Mmm-hmm. I saw that aaaall the way at the punch bowl.” The honey-haired blonde, along with Kirishima’s sexy, redheaded ass, sit on your left while Bakugou occupies your right. 

Sero sits across from you with Mina who is about to drop her head into her shrimp salad. “Spiked, I hope,” she mutters. “This party is soooo boring!” 

You silently concur. As a fellow pro hero, you were invited to attend the Heroes’ Annual Christmas Party along with your partners to celebrate all heroes and the holiday season. Though you feel extremely glamorous in your dress with the thigh slit and your gold Jimmy Choo heels with your face beat for days and your skin smelling intoxicatingly sweet, this party is anything short of “glamorous”. 

Despite all the famous pros and important folks being here, and the ballroom being swaddled in gorgeous Christmas trees, centerpieces, and expensive o'devours, you have never been so fucking bored in your life. Hence why you’ve been teasing your boyfriends for the past hour since you’ve been here. 

“What the hell did you expect, mamì?” Sero asks, nudging Mina with his elbow. “It’s a NYE party where very important people, like us, are in attendance, including city officials.” He pops a shrimp into his mouth and you zero in on his lip piercing. And the rings adorning his fingers that you’d love to feel wrapped around your neck right now. 

Curse your boyfriends for being pierced up, tatted up, and hella sexy! Why the fuck would they choose tonight of all nights to look so damn good? Why couldn’t you go to the club, get drunk, sloppily make out on the dance floor, and then go back to the crib to “celebrate in private”?

Or stay home and spend NYE fucking until the sun came up? 

Or fuck in general?

You wrinkle your brows at your advanced horniness. You can’t remember the last time you were this aroused and in need of your boyfriends’ attention. Perhaps it’s because the busy holiday season has brought too much work and not enough play that now you and Mina both are feening for some dick that your men aren’t free to give at the moment. 

The rush of the holidays and working overtime for more money to buy gifts and still pay rent has affected all of you to the point where you and Mina are teeming with arousal and desperation, and your boyfriends are overcome with exhaustion. Too exhausted to dom their pretty babies and give them the attention they so desperately need.

“But no alcohol though?” Denki scoffs, his tiny hoop earrings glistening in the soft glow of the lights above. His honey-blonde hair, streaked with one single black strand in the shape of a lightning bolt, is styled back in a man bun for the special occasion tonight. “C’mon, they’ve gotta be kiddin’ with that one! Do the party planners know a single pro hero?” 

“You don’t have to drink to have fun, Denks,” Kiri criticizes, mouth full of steak. He looks absolutely mouthwatering in his tailored suit, his long red locks cascading down his broad shoulders. “You’ve just got a problem.” You tut, rolling your eyes at the redhead. "Says the one who can chug five beers in one sitting,” you giggle. “And then pass out.” 

Mina, Denki, and Sero laugh at your little quip while Kiri gets a playful fire in his crimson eyes. “Don’t try me, baby. I’ll show you your man can do six.” Unlike Bakugou, he doesn’t ignore the flirty energy that is emanating from your smile or eyes rimmed in mascara. You reach across the table to take his big hand in his, an electric shock coursing through you at his touch. 

He must feel it too because his body visibly tenses and his pierced tongue juts out to lick his lips. “Fuck, you look good,” he sighs. “Both of you do.” He turns to Mina and her hooded, inkwell eyes, the sexual tension becoming more obvious with the unwavering look she gives you and Kiri.

“Mmm, agreed,” Denki sighs, swallowing so hard that his Adam’s Apple bobs. “It’s taking everything in me to not pull you both out of here and tear these dresses off of you.” 

Boldly, Mina takes her glass of punch and slowly drinks from it, making it a point to play with the straw with her tongue. “What’s stoppin’ you?” she purrs. Your cunt throbs impatiently under your dress, needing so desperately to feel her tongue in other places. You want to be between all of them, feeling each ridge of their muscles and caressing their warm skin.

“Stop flirting,” Bakugou grunts, his eyes flaring at the pink-haired pro. “You can do that at home.” He puts his menu down and turns to you, making your blood run hot with the seething intensity and lust in them. “And when we’re there, you know you two are gonna get it, right?” 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, hoping that he promises. And you hope that you all can go home ASAP to make up for the weeks of constant missions, patrols, and paperwork that kept your Daddies away from you and Mina. You girls can only get so much satisfaction out of each other and while sex with Mina is always great, you miss Bakugou’s hand gripping your throat while he’s fucking you into the bed or Kiri’s touch as he litters your body in kisses where he left bruises. 

Sero obviously sees the molten lust in your eyes and smirks. “Seems like that’s the plan,” he chuckles. “You know how these two operate, Kats. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” The look he gives you and Mina is enough to make you explode. 

“Can’t we just go home now?” you tiredly suggest, pouting. “No offense to All Might and the others here, but this party is damn near putting me to sleep!” Kiri chuckles, aiming those damn crimson eyes your way. “Or maybe you’re just desperate to get home so we can put your fine ass to bed. Is that it, little lady?” 

You suddenly feel his hand ghosting over your knee and do your best to hide your gasp. Every slight touch is like kryptonite to you. Bakugou is gripping his glass so tight that you’re afraid he’ll break the thing. “I said cut it out!” he growls at the redhead. “I can see your boner from here!” 

Kiri blushes as red as his hair and places a tablecloth on his lap to cover himself. You wither at the loss of contact and sexual chemistry, needing so much to feel both.

“This is probably the only time I’ve ever sided with Bakugou,” Denki huffs. “As much as I love the sexy game-playing, ladies, I really don’t wanna be walkin’ around with a stiff one if you catch my drift.” 

Kiri sighs, staring down at his lap. “Same here. With my quirk, it’s much worse.” Now your mind has drifted to think about their boners. Could you dare to take a peek under the table and see for yourself? Are you bold enough to reach over, grab their hard cocks, and stroke them through their pants until— 

“Well, can’t we hit a club around here and then come back before the midnight toast?” Mina suggests, snapping you out of your nasty, depraved thoughts. “I mean, it’s New Year’s Eve! We’re supposed to turn up!” 

“After the party,” Bakugou firmly says, rubbing his undercut in obvious frustration. “It’s a charity event and we’re doin’ charity. Now both of you brats pipe the fuck down before I really give you somethin’ to complain about.” Anyone else would be damn near pissing themselves at the hot-blooded look Bakugou is giving, but you and Mina know better. He is just as worked up as you are. 

You both turn to each other, sharing a playful smile with one another. Kiri, Denki, and Sero watch on, all equally turned on by the bratty energy emanating from you and Mina…especially Mina. That girl isn’t afraid of anything and won’t stop until she’s a writhing mess after too many orgasms and spankings. “Like what, Kats?” she quips. “Are we gettin’ you hot and bothered too?” 

Feeling your girlfriend rub off on you, you take a hand and slyly squeeze Bakugou’s thigh, making his knee hit the bottom of the table. He turns to you, cheeks flushed and bottom lip pierced with snake bites caught between his teeth. “You little fuckin’—“ 

“Ohhh, look at this!” a sudden voice interrupts. You jump in surprise and turn to the balding city official standing by the snake table nearest to you. “It’s my favorite hero couple all here together! You must come and meet the other officials! They’re big fans of Dynamight and Red Riot, apparently, so I said I’d bring you guys over.” 

Kiri, for one, is happy for the distraction before Bakugou possibly tackled you to the ground, ripped off your dress, and fucked you dumb in front of all of these poor people. “Sure! That’s what we’re here for!” 

Bakugou stiffly gets up and walks over to the city official, obviously hard, while Denki and Sero trail behind him. You and Mina share a look, neither one of you wanting to socialize and pretend to be interested in anything other than sex with your boyfriends. “We’ll stay back and finish eating,” she tells Mina with a smile. “Don’t worry, babe, we’ll keep your seats warm.” 

Kiri fixes you both with a “you’d better behave” look before he walks off to be the buffer for his boyfriends. You sigh, placing your nails, glossy, red, and almond-shaped, under your chin. Mina does the same, running a hand through her pink curls. “Are you as bored and as horny as I am?” she deadpans. 

“Hell yes,” you reply with a scoff, “but as much as I wanna leave, I don’t wanna ditch the guys or make them angry.” You already know that this is what Mina is going to allude to, just like the last time you two didn’t get enough attention. “Oh, who cares about that?” she scoffs, waving a hand at the idea of your boyfriends being pissed at your decisions. “They’re bored and horny too, but just don’t wanna give us what we want. I don’t appreciate being denied.” She gives you a devious smirk that will only lead to trouble. 

As much as you enjoy the idea of teasing your dudes for the night, you also know that ditching them just to entrap them wouldn’t be the best idea on NYE. “Well, we only have an hour until midnight,” you say, checking your phone. “We can just get some dessert, gossip with Uraruka and the girls, and—“ 

“Oh, you two are still her!” Kiri says, pleasantly surprised. You turn to see him back now, holding a new glass of punch in his hand. “I was sure you ditched us.” You grin up at him, hope blooming in your chest. “Never, baby. How was the meet n’ greet?” 

The usual chipper and bright redhead rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Fuckin’ annoying and my social battery has just about reached its limit. How about we leave in say…” He pauses, checking his Rolex. “Twenty minutes?” 

Mina groans in happiness, dramatic as usual. “Oh, yes!” you reply, grinning happily. You could kiss your Red Riot because you’re so damn happy to finally be rid of this party and get dicked down before midnight…and after. Kiri laughs at you and Mina’s cute antics as he pulls out his phone. “I’ll tell the guys in the group chat and—“ 

“Oh, Kirishima!” Fat Gum hollers from across the room, waving a pudgy hand. “Come over here! These girls wanna meet you!” He points at the girls in question—three very pretty, modelesque, and expensive-looking ladies who look very interested in meeting your man. 

Kiri looks wearily at you and Mina before sighing, apologizing with his eyes. “Twenty,” he mouths to you and Mina, but you both know that this won’t be twenty minutes at all. When he leaves, you huff in frustration and turn to Mina who suddenly produces a tiny vodka bottle out of her purse. “Good thing I bought this,” she giggles with a mischievous wink. “Don’t tell the guys, okay?” 

You smirk at her, passing your cranberry juice over to her for some of that liquid confidence. “Only if you pour me a shot.” Your girlfriend is happy to oblige and discreetly pours you a glass under the table, spiking your drink. When you take a sip, you feel your bones melt and your face flush from the strong vodka mixed with the sweet, tangy cranberry juice. 

After thirty or so minutes of drinking, you and Mina are good and tipsy. You can tell from the way she keeps giggling at nothing and your erogenous zones are more sensitive than usual. Your nipples feel puckered, tight, and flushed while your pussy throbs insistently for attention. You desperately turn to search for your boyfriends and find them still chatting with the three girls. 

Only this time, there are more than three. More women have seemed to gravitate over to your Dynamight, Red Riot, Chargebolt, and Cellophane, gushing over their hair and their quirks. One of them blushes as she asks Sero for an autograph on her napkin, placing a hand on his arm in gratitude when he takes out a pen. 

You also know that you’re tipsy when you begin to feel quickly irritated at seeing another hand that isn’t yours or Mina’s on your man’s arm. Your jealousy and illogical anger only intensify when you see a blonde with long legs standing between Denki and Kiri for a photo.

The blonde’s hands are placed dangerously low on your boyfriends’ backs…any lower and she’d be cupping their asses. “Are you seein’ what I’m seein’?” Mina whispers, irritation in her voice. You slowly nod, barely even looking at her. You’re too focused on the bitches all over your men. “Yeah, and I don’t like it.” 

Another fan, a ginger with a curvaceous body and a beautiful gold gown, is chatting Bakugou up, her hand placed on his shoulder as she laughs. Why is she touching him like that? Why is he allowing that? You know that your boyfriends are quite popular among the female population, but shit, don’t they know that these four sexy men are off-limits? 

Flushing with envy that would make anyone green in the face, you begin to search for something. A distraction. A diversion. Something to catch your boyfriends’ attention. You find it in the emerald eyes that are currently staring you down from across the room at another table. The eyes belong to a handsome lizard hybrid with scaly skin, claws, a tail, and a tongue that you’ve heard can do wonders. 

Next to him sits another pro adorned in piercings with spiked, black locks and eyes the color of molten silver. He waggles his ringed fingers at you though his eyes are pinned on Mina. There is no doubt in your mind that the two haven’t been watching you and your girlfriend all night despite you clearly having dates. Then you get a very bad, very stupid idea. “I’ve got an idea,” you mischievously giggle. “Follow my lead.” 

You rise from your seat and Mina follows, the both of you slowly strutting across the room over to the two pros. They drink you in with every step, their lips curling up into pleased smiles at the sight of you and the pink-haired pro. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. The alcohol has made you too reckless…but it also feels kinda good, like being on a rollercoaster and waiting at the top just before the drop. 

“Well, it’s nice to see some familiar faces here,” you say, making your voice as flirtatious as possible. The lizard hybrid smiles up at you, drinking a glass of punch. “H/N and Pinkie,” he greets in his raspy voice, on the same exact time as you. “I almost didn’t recognize you without your boyfriends.” 

“Lizard and Slipknot,” Mina giggles, nodding at the grey-eyed pro. “What are pros #12 and #15 doing here at a party like this? I figured you two would be out hunting for some pretty girls to celebrate NYE with.” 

Lizard and Slipknot are known for their monthly (if not weekly) girlfriends and hookups, having been trending on social media many times for being snapped coming out of hotels. “You make us sound so predatory, Pinkie,” Slipknot scoffs, pressing a hand to his heart. “I’m a little hurt…unless those pretty girls happen to be you and your girl.” 

He gives you each a flirty, almost lecherous smile that Lizard wipes off with a punch in the arm. “Dude, don’t push it. Don’t you know who they’re with?” 

You look across the room at your boyfriends who are still annoyingly occupied. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about them,” Mina replies. “They’re busy.” Slipknot quirks a brow in interest. “And left you two alone?” he huffs. “Lucky for us, I guess.” 

He and Lizard share a secretive smile with each other that you’re too drunk to question. “That being said, you guys wanna have a drink with us?” you suggest. “And maybe…talk?” It’s the most you can come up with. The vodka has started to make your head throb and your mind sluggish. But the duo are more than happy to agree to your suggestion of shots and chatting. 

Somehow that “talk” leads to you, Mina, and the two hot guys who aren’t either one of your boyfriends leaving the party early to go to a club two blocks down. If your boyfriends notice then you don’t realize it. 

The cold air is thick with anticipation and excitement for the new year as the men lead you and Mina down the street, stumbling around and loudly laughing from the alcohol. As soon as you’re in the popular, crowded, and sweltering nightclub, more alcohol starts to flow, shot after shot coming thanks to Lizard and Slipknot’s wallets. 

It’s only a matter of time until all of the flavored vodka shots—birthday cake, caramel, and sour green apple—start to collide and work their effect on you. The world comes softer and fuzzier as your vision starts to blur, but the music blasting from the speakers overhead sounds sharper. You can feel the bass pumping and throbbing in your head as you stand on the dance floor with Mina. 

Speaking of which, your girlfriend has never looked prettier. She danced to the music in her gown, hiking up the skirt over her toned thighs as she winds her perfect ass. She turns to you, eyes aglow and slightly hooded from the vodka. “Now this is a party!” she laughs. You giggle with her, agreeing. The loud music, crowded dance floor, flashing strobe lights, and endless alcohol are exactly what you need. 

You slip your phone out of your clutch and hold it up to get you and Mina in view. “Let’s take a photo!” you shout at Lizard and Slipknot who have been surrounding you two like vultures since you came to the club. 

Slipknot tosses up a middle finger and makes a show of leaning in towards Mina’s shoulder while Lizard hugs in close on your left, one hand on the small of your back. He lets it linger there even as you snap the photo, the white flash capturing your big smile and the drunk look in your eyes. 

Quickly, you post the photo on your private IG, smirking to yourself. Maybe that will make your boys pay some attention to their pretty girls and make them remember what the fuck they have. 

Mina’s eyes grow soft in the glow of the colorful lights as she gazes at you. Nobody but you despite the two hot pros you came here with. “Come here. Dance with me, Y/N.” 

In one hand, she holds a cup of drank while she takes your hand with a free one. Interlacing your fingers, she invites herself into your space and presses her back flush against your front. Her ass presses against your crotch, grinding back into you as the music glows to a chopped and screwed R&B classic that would definitely get the whole floor pregnant. 

Lizard has long since taken his hand off of your back, but he still lingers behind you, watching you and Mina dance with a predatory look in his reptilian eyes. You can’t pay close attention to him because Mina is tossing a sultry look at you from over her shoulder, swishing the alcohol in her cup around. “Want a taste?” she whispers, her tone soft and low. 

It makes your pussy throb something awful. All self-control and the ability to make good decisions gone, you nod and allow her to carefully tilt the cup into your mouth, giggling apologies when some of it spills onto your bosom. You’re surprised to find that it’s fizzy champagne that makes you feel bubbly the moment it goes down your throat. 

“Lemme get that up for you, darling,” Mina purrs before turning around to slowly lick each droplet of champagne off of your chest. Her glossy lips stick to your skin, leaving stains of Fenty Gloss on your throat and chest. You softly moan at the contact, so drunk off of her and the alcohol that you can barely comprehend that you’re doing this in public. 

And with an audience. Lizard groans at the sight. “Fuck, you two are too hot,” he groans. Mina giggles, giving you a mischievous wink. “We know.” 

Slipknot corners her front, the lights flashing against his glassy, drunk eyes and sloppy smile. “What I wouldn’t give to take you both home with me.” His hands graze Mina’s waist, trying his luck, but the pink-haired pro steps out of the way to press closer to you. “Uh-uh, Slip, watch it. Our boys could be lurking in any dark corner right now!” 

Your stomach drops and reality barely breaks through the comfortable, glittery wall that the alcohol built for you tonight. Any one of your boyfriends could be in this club, couldn’t they? They could’ve arrived at any point and are watching this.

Suddenly, you have the urge to call either one of your men. They must have that urge too because when your phone buzzes, it’s Bakugou calling, his fine ass popping up on your caller ID. You begin to nervously sweat, unsure of whether you should answer or not. 

Lizard bumps into you by accident, inching a little closer to you to stand behind you. You notice that he has gotten closer. Extremely close. He’s so close that if you were to lean back, you’d be right against him. You turn to face him, your throat clogged. “That your man?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. 

You should say yes. You should stop this recklessness and answer your boyfriend like a good girlfriend should. But the alcohol and the urge to be a brat win. “No,” you reply, ignoring Bakugou’s call, but you keep the phone in your hand. 

Lizard smiles, pleased. “Good. You’re here with me right now.” He inches closer to you and begins to sway to the music that has picked up to a song you’ve heard a thousand times on TikTok. “So what’s up for the night after this?” he whispers.

Under the lights, you see the seductive look in his slits of eyes. You can’t find the words to speak. You don’t want to say yes because hello?! You’re dating people! Four very hot, very famous people who will most definitely kill you tonight. 

The urge to call one of your boyfriends and apologize for your behavior returns, sobering you up. Luckily, your phone buzzes again and it’s Kiri. You give Lizard an apologetic smile and put up a finger for a minute. As you strut off of the floor, Mina calls you, mindlessly dancing by herself while Slipknot watches her. “Y/N, get off the phone!” she hollers above the music. “This is our song!” 

“Hang on!” you reply, raising your voice enough to be heard. You stand against a nearby wall away from the writhing bodies on the floor and press a hand to your other ear to hear your boyfriend better. “Yeah?” you shout into the phone. 

”You two are in big fuckin’ trouble,” Kiri growls. Your stomach flips at the irked, seething tone of his voice that dips into a low rasp that usually occurs when Kiri is very pissed off. “Where the fuck are you?” 

You smirk to yourself, glad to have riled him up. “Oh, you’re startin’ this by arguing with me?” you scoff. “Now I’m glad we left.” Kiri scoffs to himself, obviously done with your ass and your brattiness. “You’re lucky it’s me callin’ you and not Bakugou. He just about blew a hole in the wall at the party.” 

You stifle a laugh, picturing your hot-headed blonde shooting a hole into one of the ballroom walls after finding you and Mina gone. You picture all of them losing their shit, sweating over the whereabouts of their girlfriends, and then growing angered at the photo on your IG. 

“Good! Maybe then you’ll start listening and attending to your girls instead of entertaining your big fans.” You can’t keep the venom from leaking out of your voice. Kiri pauses, assessing the damage and the sound of your voice. “Y/N, you been drinkin’?” he asks, slight worry in his tone. “I can hear it all in your voice.” 

He should be worried. Leaving his poor, horny girlfriend to search for excitement on her own is not the kind of treatment you deserve. “Yes,” you pointedly answer. “And I plan on going back to doin’ just that with my pretty girlfriend. We’ll explain everything when we get back.” 

Kiri makes a sound between a laugh and a sigh, making your smile slip from your face. “Oh, you can explain everything to me now, baby girl,” he says. “‘Cause I’m right here.” 

Confused, you begin to look around the room, squinting into the flashing blue and purple lights that illuminate strangers’ faces, clothes, and bodies. Finally, your eyes land on a pair of big dress shoes standing inches away from the club entrance. Your eyes trail up their thick, muscular legs and broad, tall build to their red locks and handsome face frozen in a steely expression. 

Shit.

Kiri stands there with his arms crossed over his beefy chest, his lips pursed in a thin line…which means he isn’t happy. Fear and anxiety sober you, plunging you back into reality like Superman crashing headfirst into Earth as your six-foot-something boyfriend begins to walk toward you. People ogle in shock at him, snapping photos of Red Riot in the club for NYE. But Kiri keeps his eyes locked on you, the hot red of his irises stirring something inside of you. You already know what is in store for you tonight…or do you? 

Finally, he stops in front of you, inches away from you. You drop your phone from your ear, stunned. You can’t speak. Words evade you. The corner of Kiri’s mouth turns up into a knowing smirk. “What’s the matter, mama?” he asks, condescending and smug. “Ya look like you just see a ghost.” 

“Y-You’re here,” you squeak. 

“And you’re in very deep shit,” he replies without missing a beat. “You and that other brat. Where is she, anyway?” Before you can even utter a breath, Mina is dancing up to you with her curls sweated out and her cheeks flushed from dancing. “Y/N!” she laughs, waving her phone at you. ”Slipknot just gave me his number! I can’t wait to see the looks on the boys’ faces when I—“ 

Her smile instantly fades when she sees Kiri standing there glaring at her. The situation only goes from worse to worser when suddenly, your phones are snatched from your hands as if out of thin air….but not thin air. From two translucent shots of tape that can stick to anything it wants because of how strong the user is.

“Busted!” Sero cackles, snatching your phones away and pocketing them in his suit. He, too, looks very irritated, but also more excited for tonight’s plans than Kiri does. “Now let’s get you two sluts home where you belong.” 

You can see flashes of cell phones snapping pics and videos of your private situation, making embarrassment flood inside of you. Mina stands next to you, her head bowed and her lips wobbling nervously. “Boys,” you begin. Like a flash of light, Kiri and Sero’s expressions grow darker and firmer, their eyes flashing with a hot wildfire. “Who?” they question. 

You swallow hard and look around, noticing the eyes and the whispers. You know that people can barely hear over you the music, but God, if this isn’t humiliating! “Daddies,” you whimper, gripping your clutch so hard that your nails dig into it. “We’re sorry.” 

But your boys aren’t swayed. In the blink of an eye, Kiri is hiking you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Save it for the bedroom, mamas,” he sighs. “Now let’s go before Bakugou gets in here.”

Sero does the same to Mina, making her squeal once and then twice when his hand slaps her hard on the ass. “Wait!” she shouts. “Where’s Lizard and Slipknot?” You look around for the two pros too, now realizing that they are nowhere to be found. 

“Nowhere you need to worry your pretty head about,” Sero replies, walking in stride with Kiri through the club. “Only thing you need to worry ‘bout is us.” But as you pick your head up from Kiri’s shoulder, you see them: Lizard and Slipknot tied up in Sero’s tape in the corner of the club, sitting back to back.

You have no time to feel anything but humiliated as Kiri and Sero carry you and Mina through the throng of clubgoers who stare like you’re some exotic animals being hauled off to the zoo. You suppose that this is what you deserve. Pissing your boyfriends just for good sex? Only the brattiest bitch alive does that! 

Finally, outside in the bitter winter cold, Kiri and Sero lower you and Mina onto your feet and hand you the fur coats that you left at the party. Bakugou’s sleek, black Range Rover sits in front of you along with your two other boyfriends in the front seat. The passenger window rolls down and your heart jumps at the sight of your other two partners.

“Got ‘em!” Denki joyfully hollers, smirking wickedly at you. Bakugou twists his head to glower at you and Mina, his look dripping with promises of endless torture. “Get your asses in the car now,” he demands, his tone not up for discussion. 

With your heads hung low, you and Mina crawl into the backseat of the Range Rover only for Kiri and Sero to crawl in behind you and force you both onto their laps just as the door closes and locks. You are trapped. Denki turns the volume to the music up just as Bakugou hits the gas, and the car zooms down the street away from the club. 

You have to grip the car door and Kiri’s thigh to keep from falling forward due to the speed. It feels like Bakugou is going about ninety, especially without a seatbelt. Kiri tuts as he squeezes you in his lap, your ass sitting perfectly on his cock. “You two just won’t learn. What are we gonna do with you?”  

The bass to the music pumps through your ears and shakes the windows just as Kiri snakes a hand down between your legs, hiking up the skirts of your gown. He begins to palm at your thighs, his calloused fingers snaking across your skin. You do your very best to keep your thighs closed, not wanting him to expose your secret. 

You turn to look at Mina who is sitting in Sero’s lap, biting her bottom lip as he presses sloppy kisses to her neck and plays with her tits outside of her dress. “You wanna explain yourselves?” he asks, sneaking a glance at you.

Before you can open your mouth, Bakugou hits the gas harder and the car accelerates down the highway, now going about one hundred. You would lurch forward and probably end up in the front seats if Kiri didn’t tighten his hold around your arm.

“Bakugou!” you shriek. “Please slow down!” The platinum blonde’s crimson eyes shift to yours in the rearview mirror, silencing you with the level of irritation in them. “Don’t tell me what the fuck to do in my car,” he growls. 

Kiri’s knee has begun to slide between your thighs, unfortunately rubbing against your pussy. The speed of Bakugou’s driving and the slight bumpiness of the street help to stimulate you against your boyfriend’s knee, no doubt staining it in your juices. Denki tosses an arm over the passenger’s seat to look back at you and gasps, a wicked smirk curling onto his lips. “Ohhh, I know why she wants you to slow down,” he giggles. “Just look down.” 

Kiri and Sero look down at you where, sure enough, a slight peek between the slit of your dress gives you away. “Jesus Christ,” Kiri hisses, ogling at your bare cunt rubbing against his knee. “No wonder your ass looked different from the back!” 

He turns to Mina who is now sitting with her legs forced open by Denki, her bare, pink pussy, freshly shaved and pierced with a tiny hoop, is on display. “No panties, babies?” Sero mockingly gasps. “Shiiiit, you two were askin’ to get fucked tonight by anyone, weren’t you?” He snakes a hand down to toy with Mina’s pussy, earning a soft moan in response. 

Kiri does the same, two of his digits slowly sliding along your slit and up to circle your clit. Your body tenses at the slight yet torturously pleasurable touch, all of your senses coming to life once you finally, finally, get your man’s hands on you. “N-No,” you whimper. “Never.”

Mina whines in agreement as Sero begins rubbing her clit, playing with the cute little clit piercing she has. Denki watches like the pervert he is, damn near having a nosebleed. 

“Then why the fuck were you in the club with those two extras like you were plannin’ on fuckin’ em, huh?” Bakugou snarls, gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turn white. “You tryna get a rise out of us? Because you’ve got it.” 

Kiri has begun to kiss your neck while he toys with your clit, so words evade you. It’s up to Mina to save your asses. Sero nibbles on her earlobe, continuing to play with her exposed cunt on his knee. “Open that mouth up, slut,” he growls. “Answer the question.”

Then one finger sinks inside, making her choke on a moan. “W-We just wanted to have some fun!” she whines. “W-We—oh, fuck!—we weren’t gonna fuck those guys, ‘Suki, we promise! We love you!” 

“So much,” you add, pathetically moaning as Kiri bounces his knee up against your cunt as Bakugou stops at the red light. “Well, you can show us how much when we get home,” the redhead hums, smiling almost wickedly at you and Mina. “You can prove it to us like we know you can.” 

He uses his other hand to pry your thighs apart, keeping one leg firmly spread away from your cunt as his fingers play away like one would with piano keys. You moan, your voice drowned out by the music and have the urge to grind your hips in Kiri’s lap. Your pussy is throbbing and gushing around nothing, desperate for more. 

But a sharp smack on the thigh stops you. “Ah-ah, puta,” Sero hisses at you, still fingering Mina. “No grinding. You just sit tight and don’t you dare try to touch that pussy either. This is what you fuckin’ get for your choices.” You whimper pathetically, doing your very best to keep your body still despite the rippling pleasure inside of you. 

“And if you two whores even think 'bout cumming now, you won't get to later,” Bakugou growls, glaring at you and Mina in the mirror. “Trust me: I’m not playing.”

You know he isn’t and that scares you…scares you because there is no telling what kind of torture he and the boys have in store for you until they finally make you cum. That could be all night or not at all. 

As soon as you get home to your beautiful and expensive penthouse, luckily not getting pulled over because of Bakugou’s reckless speeding and swerving, Sero and Kiri are carrying you and Mina across the threshold of your bedroom like brides. Once you’re there, the duo toss you and Mina onto the bed in your gowns, making you squeal as you soar through the air before landing on the soft, king-sized mattress underneath you. 

And there you and your girlfriend are, trapped in your own bedroom because of the four big, tall, and sexy pros that stand before you, surrounding you like predators. Their gazes are hot and lustful yet intimidating, promising you a night of endless punishment and possibly orgasms until you cry and beg them to stop. 

“Now don’t you two look adorable,” Denki coos and then taps his finger against his chin. “But somethin’ is missin’…” Bakugou snorts, crudely cupping his crotch where his cock has begun to harden and chub against his slacks. “It’s those damn dresses. Sluts don’t wear clothes, especially expensive ones.” 

The look in their eyes is damn near evil as they pounce on you and Mina, yanking down the zippers to your dresses and nearly breaking them just to get your dresses off as quickly as possible. You gasp as Bakugou yanks the gorgeous red number off of your body, leaving you in just your heels, the same as Mina. “Leave the heels on,” Sero hums, staring hungrily at your and Mina’s slender feet. “I like ‘em on.” 

“Mmm, me too,” Kiri hums, kneeling before Mina’s pretty feet in her strappy Louis Vuitton heels. 

A hiss whistles through the pink-haired pro’s teeth as Kiri begins kissing over her stomach and down her thighs, his big hands grasping her ass to hike her legs up. He tosses them over his broad shoulders as his pink lips cascade over her inner thighs, earning soft moans in response. He lifts his gaze to her, locking eyes. “You like my kisses here, Mina, baby?” he murmurs. 

Mina slowly nods, lips parted and panting, just as Denki kneels by her head on the bed. “Y-Yes, Daddy,” she whimpers. The honey-blonde is now shirtless and just in his briefs, his hard cock chubbing against his Calvin Kleins. He produces a bottle of champagne from behind his back, grinning down at Mina. “You’ll like this too.” 

Pop! The cork of the champagne bottle pops off and Denki successfully catches the champagne fizz into his mouth before leaning down to transfer into into Mina’s mouth. You watch the two messily makeout as Kiri begins to dive into her pussy, gently nibbling on her pink pussy lips before his tongue drags across her clit.

Your watching is interrupted when you suddenly feel Sero’s mouth on your pussy, the cold metal of his piercing melting against your hot pussy lips. “Hope I ain’t interruptin’ you,” he teasingly murmurs against your mound. “You just looked too good, mamì.” 

You moan and writhe against the bed as your boyfriend lashes your pussy with his tongue, caressing your clit and your lips, sucking on each one before dragging his nose up to lightly brush against the needy button of your clit.

Beside you, Mina is caught in the rapture of pleasure as Kiri dribbles champagne onto her pussy and greedily sucks it up. Sero catches on and takes the bottle from him, pouring the fizzy alcohol onto your soft, wet cunt. You jump at the cold sensations of the liquid hitting your hot, sensitive skin, wetting you up. 

“Goddamn,” Sero sighs, his eyes hooded and dazed as he stares at your cunt dripping in champagne. “I swear this pussy was made for me.” He goes back to greedily sucking and lapping at the alcohol as he drinks in your pussy, making you nearly arch off of the bed.

Bakugou hovers over you now, his vermillion eyes drilling holes into yours. He is semi-naked, the same as Denki, each muscle rippling with veins and power. Your eyes indulge in his tattoos–one on his right pec, one on the left side of his neck, and the others trailing across each toned arm in sleeves. 

He smirks down at you, so close that you can feel the heat radiating from the tent in his Armani briefs. “Ya like whatcha see, baby?” he murmurs. You nod, answering with a sweet moan as well when Sero swirls his tongue over your entrance, messily eating your pussy. “S’good,” he moans into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me.” Bakugou places a hand on your throat, forcing you to pay attention to him. “Tilt your head back for me.” 

You do as you’re told and he snatches the champagne bottle from Sero before taking a swig from it. He then places the bottle aside on the nightstand and leans down to press his lips to yours. The cold liquid pours out of his mouth and into yours, forcing you to swallow all that he gives you before his tongue caresses yours, swirling and dancing in the middle of a very messy, very sloppy kiss. 

When you suddenly feel Sero’s finger prying your asscheeks apart and the familiar, bulbous tip of a butt plug, you hurriedly pull away from Bakugou. The metal tip is cold against your asshole and though isn’t inside of you, your body reacts as if it is. “A-Ah!” you gasp. “Wait, don’t—“ 

“‘Wait, don’t’ nothing,” Bakugou growls, gripping your throat and briefly restricting your airwaves. “Whores like you don’t get a choice in this. Are you dumb?” He squints down at you like this is the first time he is realizing it.

Denki laughs, pinching Mina’s nipples while Kiri is still lapping, sucking, and slurping away, her heels pressed against his back muscles. “Obviously if she thought she was gonna get away with tonight.” Denki glances at Bakugou, mirth in his eyes. “They complained all night about the party, fellas. I think we should give ‘em somethin’ to really complain about.” 

The excited and greedy glow in your boyfriends’ eyes is the stuff of nightmares as you share a withered look with Mina. 

You can only wonder what the four pros have in store for you and your girlfriend for the rest of the night until the dawn of 2025 hits the skyline.

Will they bend you over and take turns filling you up with their cum until you’re begging them through tears to let you cum? Will they not fuck you at all and instead spend time between your thighs, eating your pussy until it’s falling off the bone and overly sensitive? Will they spank your ass until it’s coated in their handprints and force you to deepthroat them until you choke? 

None of these thoughts even come close to what they do to punish you and celebrate the coming of the new year. You come to know what true pain and suffering are when you and Mina are forced onto your hands and knees with your wrists and ankles tied in the sticky tape that Sero’s quirk produced for the occasion. “Now don’t move too much, mamìs,” he chuckled as he wrapped your ankles up. “This won’t come off even if ya squirm. Don’t want you hurtin’ yourselves before we have any fun.” 

But that isn’t even the worst of it. All four of your boyfriends make it a point to strip buck naked in front of you and Mina’s excited eyes, each article of clothing falling to the floor making arousal stir inside of you. Your wide pupils glide over each vein in a hand or forearm; each muscle jumping under a thick thigh or a bicep; each patch of hair on their chests or on their toned lower bellies that are in need of some licking. 

Your eyes lower down, down, down to their bulges, each one different in size or shape but still the very things that you breathe for at this moment. Kiri notices your pitiful expression and coos at you, his hair tickling your face as he leans down to peck your lips.

“Is my baby feenin’ for somethin’?” he asks, his tone saccharine and almost mocking. You nod, leaning your cheek into his hand as he presses it against your face. “Well, that’s too bad,” he chuckles. “You’re gonna have to wait a little longer to get what you want, baby girl.” 

Somehow, Denki finds it funny to give both of your pretty, plump asses spanks that are sparked with electricity, causing painful sparks to pop against your skin with each fall of his merciless hand.

Spank! Spank! Spank!

He cackles like a madman while Bakugou and Kiri kneel behind you and Mina, both of them fucking your pussies with their tongues while rimming you with matching butt plugs, all slick with cherry-flavored warming lube. 

You feel tears cling to your lashes at the mixture of pain and pleasure, your hands writhing in the binds that Sero created for you, your ass shamelessly tossing back to fuck Bakugou’s face. “F-Fuck, ‘Suki, please!” you cry out, desperate to be released from the hold he has on you. 

“S-Shit, Kiri!” Mina whines beside you, only growing louder when Denki yanks her up by her hair. “Please, please go faster! Please–”

Her pleas are silenced when Denki pulls his briefs down with one hand and shoves his throbbing cock, flushed with arousal, into her unprepared mouth. He hisses at the contact, strands of his hair falling into his face. “Goddamn, Mina,” he groans. “You talk too fuckin’ much. Had to give your pretty mouth somethin’ else to do.” 

Sero hums in agreement, his own cock now throbbing and pulsing in front of your eyes. The sight of it makes you wetter, much to Bakugou’s enjoyment. “Want me to fuck your throat too, babes?” Sero asks, tilting your head up with two fingers under your chin. You silently nod, your mind too blank to reply with coherent words. 

With a moan, Sero slides his cock into your mouth just as Bakugou’s tongue rolls around your clit while your asshole clenches around the buttplug. All of your holes are played with as you sit on all fours between Sero’s body, hardened by years of training and hero work, and Bakugou’s wicked, pierced lips and tongue. “Fuck, mama, yes,” Sero hisses, his fingers digging into your hair, wrapping your braids around his fist. “Wanted to do this to you all night.” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Kiri moans into Mina’s pussy, pulling away with a wet, smacking sound. “Me too. I would’ve done it at the party though that wouldn’t have been too manly.”

His cute little response probes some giggles out of you and Mina, causing Sero and Denki to shudder at the vibrations that travel up the bases of their shafts. “Even your laughs are hot!” Denki groans, in full goon territory for his girls. “How the fuck are you both this fuckin’ sexy?” 

He and Sero each pull their cocks out of their mouths and hold them together, side by side, slick with your and Mina’s saliva and their balls heavy with unreleased cum. “Go on,” Denki sniggers. “Give us a kiss.”

You and Mina each lean over to press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to your boys’ cocks, moaning like you’re straight out of a porno…but that comes naturally since Bakugou and Kiri won’t let up behind you, tonguefucking your pussies until the both of your moans reach a crescendo. 

Mina pulls away from the sloppy makeout session and Denki’s cock to cry out in desperation, her pink curls bouncing around her face. “O-Oh, my God!” she whimpers. “I-I think I’m gonna–” 

“No, the fuck you’re not,” Bakugou growls, tearing himself away from your pussy to glare at the pink-haired girl. “You’re gonna wait ‘cause you didn’t get permission yet.” He swats you across the ass, sending sparks of pleasure throughout your core. “That goes for you too, slut. What, you think I can’t feel that pussy tightenin’ up?” 

You whimper pathetically as Sero taps his cockhead against your soft, wet lips, applying his own kind of stickier lipgloss to them, moaning at the feeling on his sensitive head. “I-I can’t—h-ha—help it, ‘Suki,” you stammer. “I-I….oh! I need to–”

Abruptly, you stop when you feel Bakugou’s cock slap against your wet pussy, making your jaw drop at the immense pleasure that the slight little thwack gives you. 

“Nah,” Bakugou huffs as Sero moans, still sliding his cock against Denki’s and your lips for some relief. “What you’re gonna do is cum all over my dick when I tell you to. You know why?”

He circles a hand around your throat, squeezing harder than he did before, as his lips ghost over your ear. “Because you’re mine,” he whispers. As soon as the last word is uttered, he is sliding that gorgeous cock inside of your soft, wet, velvety pussy, stretching you out in just the way you’ve been craving. 

From beside you, Mina lets out a high-pitched moan that is almost worthy of a Grammy when Kiri slides inside of her. You turn to watch him grasp her hips with his big hands, digging them so deep into her ass that he is surely leaving bruises, as his own hips begin to rock against her.

His cock plunges in and out of her cunt, his balls swinging between his muscular thighs, just as Denki inserts his cock back into her mouth. Mina looks so small between them, each of your boyfriends towering over her as they fuck each of her holes with a plug still plunged snuggly between her asscheeks. 

And then it’s your turn. Sero finally slides his cock into your mouth just as Bakugou begins to fuck you from behind, slamming his hips into your ass that bounces with each mind-blowing thrust. “Fuck, baby,” he grunts, using one hand to massage one of your drooping, gorgeous tits while the other toys with your ass, spanking it as much as he sees fit. “You fit me so perfectly. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” 

Kiri laughs, the sound like an aphrodisiac to your ears. “This one is too.” He nods down at Mina who is bouncing against his thick cock like a remote-controlled bunny, split between the buff redhead and Denki as he ruts into her mouth, cackling when her body thrashes at the feeling of his electric fingers tweaking her nipples and sending shockwaves throughout her body. “Think you good girls can cum for us soon?” Kiri pants, his handsome face flushed as red as his hair. 

You frantically nod while Mina whines in response, each of you unable to speak ‘the English’ right now. “Bakugou, quit hoggin’ her,” Sero angrily grunts, his hand laced in your scalp. “You’re not the only one who’s fuckin’ her. The hotheaded blonde looks at the black-haired pro like he just insulted him. “You’re lucky I’m even lettin’ you fuck her, dickhead,” he growls. “Just try to keep up.” 

Unfortunately for you, Sero can and he does. He and Bakugou fuck you between them like your body is going out of style, using your pussy and your mouth as much as they want and need. It doesn’t take long for Bakugou’s cock to stroke your insides and massage your G-spot so fucking well that you reach your first peak of the night. Bakugou feels you squeeze around his dick and grips your throat, massaging Sero’s cock down your throat in the process. 

“Give it to me, babe,” he demands, using his other hand to twist the plug inside of your asshole. “Cum for me. Show these extras how good of a girl you can be.” 

“You too, cutie pie,” Kiri coos, petting Mina’s ass the way she likes as he continues to rail her from behind. “Cum on that dick and be my good lil’ slut, hm? Don’t disappoint us now.”

Mina whines around Denki’s cock, spit dripping from her lips and all over the bedspread. You can’t help but stare at her as you feel pleasure ripple through you the more Bakugou fucks your cunt, making you see dozens of stars with your eyes wide open. 

When your orgasm hits, it hits you hard like a freight train or a villain’s punch. ​​Your eyes close and you see the entire galaxy, planets and all, as the first wave of total bliss hits you and submerges you in pleasure. Your pussy grips Bakugou tighter than a vice as you gush all over his cock, stroking and milking him of all that he is worth. Your voice is loud enough to worry the neighbors as you moan and cry around Sero’s cock, the sounds of your release as muffled as they can be during such an intense orgasm. 

Mina cums in unison with you, the both of you coming undone on your boyfriends’ cocks just as the clock hits midnight. As your sweet moans echo throughout the bedroom, filling the walls with the echoes of your pleasure, the sounds of distant cheering from the penthouses next door and fireworks popping somewhere in the distance explode from all around you. In your delirious mind, you think that these people are cheering because you were finally allowed to cum. 

“A-Ah, fuck!” Denki gasps, gripping Mina’s hair as Kiri grips her ass, pressing himself flush against her. “She just latched onto me tighter!” Sero breathlessly laughs, pressing his cock deeper down your throat as your lips tighten around the base, his balls flush against your chin. “So did this one. I bet they needed that.” 

“And I fuckin’ need it too.” Bakugou grips you tighter as he begins to slam his cock into you again and again, turning your cunt into silly putty around his throbbing length. Your mouth falls open at the sensations, the pleasure almost agonizing. Your pussy is so sensitive from the orgasm that it quivers and clenches around Bakugou who fucks you like he’s trying to fill you with his kids. 

“Not done,” he grunts, groping your tits and tweaking the sensitive peaks of your nipples. “Gotta fill you up first. Teach you a fuckin’ lesson about fuckin’ with me.”

Kiri begins to fuck Mina at the same breakneck pace, his big body mounting her tinier frame as he pistons his cock into her again and again. “Oh, fuck, this is gonna make me cum!” he warns, making Mina bounce on him like she’s on hydraulics. “You gonna take it, Mina, hm? Like a good lil’ slut?” 

“Yes!” Mina gasps, her moans and sobs of pleasure broken because of the speed Kiri is fucking her. “Yes, Daddy, I promise!” Denki quiets her down by slipping his cock back into her mouth, making sure he is nice and snug in her throat before thrusting in her face. “Don’t leave me out,” he groans. “I’m about to bust too.” 

“M-Me too.” Sero slips his big dick in your mouth, collecting saliva from your bottom lip before swishing it around the inside of your mouth with his cock. “‘Bout to fill this pretty neck up,” he pants, fucking your face like he would a toy. “You’re gonna be feelin’ all of this shit for days, mamìs.” 

You know that, and you couldn’t be more prepared to feel the rawness in your throat and the soreness in your muscles after this. You let your boyfriends use your body, see-sawing you between their cocks as they use and abuse your holes like they were made for them and them alone. Their rough fucking causes the bedsprings to bounce and creak below your bodies, no doubt signaling the neighbors below that you are, indeed, fucking. 

When your boyfriends’ moans begin to grow louder and more intense, you know that they are right at their peak. And so are you. Because your wrists are still tied, Bakugou has to reach down to rub your clit with his calloused fingers, quick and precise. “Cum with me,” he demands, his voice all in your ear. “Cum with me right fuckin’ now. Gimme another one, baby.” 

With a muffled whine, your second orgasm roils through you just as Bakugou’s body tenses and he stills. With a guttural moan of pleasure, he fills you up with his cum, flooding your insides with a week’s worth of nut. Sero cums too, spilling curses in Spanish as he slams into your throat with one final thrust. His spunk coats your tongue and spills down your throat, forcing you to take every ounce of it down your throat to your tummy. 

Beside you, Kiri and Denki’s moans are loud, unabashed, and extremely verbal as they get closer to their end. Chants of “M’gonna cum, m’gonna cum” and “Take it, baby” escape them as they finally fill Mina to the brim with their streams of spunk.

The pretty, pink pro takes it all as she shudders between them and thrashes against Kiri’s hips, her own orgasm taking control. Her eyes roll to the back of her head at the intensity of the orgasm, her long, doll-like lashes fanning across her cheeks as she closes her eyes at the bliss. 

“Oh, my God,” she sighs, her tone breathless and soft. “That was amazing.” 

“And you’re not done yet.” Bakugou slows his fast, rough thrusts down to a slow, gentler yet deeper pace, stroking your sensitive pussy walls. You feel like running from him at this point. “We’re not finished here yet, little girl,” he whispers, his voice low and raspier than usual. It makes your cunt throb around his pulsing cock, making the pleasure almost agonizing. “We’ve still got plenty of tonight to punish you little whores.” 

“And celebrate 2025,” Kiri chuckles, stroking Mina’s ass before giving it a firm, open-palmed smack. “I can’t think of a better way to ring in the new year than makin’ these cuties cum over and over again.” 

Bakugou presses his hand against your cheek, making you turn to look at him over your shoulder. With his hips still rolling sweetly against your ass, plunging his cock into the wet depths of your pussy over and over again, his hooded vermillion eyes lock with yours, daring you to not look away.

“You can handle that, can’t you, sweetness?” he asks, cheeks flushed and muscles clenched from the force it takes him to not cum. “You can go all night and take what we give you without question, right?” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Sero hums in agreement, sliding his cock out to wetly tap against your tongue. “After all, you and Pinkie still got some apologizing to do for earlier.”

He reaches over to give Mina a smack on her ass, making her moan against Denki’s balls that he’s got in her mouth. You stare up into Sero and Bakugou’s eyes, melting under their hot gazes. “Yes, Daddies,” you answer for both you and Mina. “We promise.” 

Mina tears her lips away from Denki’s balls as he strokes his cock in her face, ogling at the way her ass looks squished against Kiri’s toned lower abdomen. “Just please fuck us!” she whines, tears glittering across her thick, black lashes. “We promise we’ll be good girls for you, Daddies! Just don’t tease us!” 

The four pros smirk at each other, each one planning their own bullshit for their pretty little brats. Anything to force their babies to understand the error of their ways and take responsibility for their actions. Anything to make very sure that you understand that if you even look at another guy, you won’t be able to walk for days afterward. 

Fortunately for you and Mina, your private NYE celebration lasts for several hours where your boyfriends and Daddies put you in every position possible to fuck more of their cum into your holes.

After Bakugou’s cock, you get Sero’s and then Denki’s and then Kiri’s, each of them spreading you out and dicking you down the way they see fit. And then each one of them fills you up with their spunk or coats you in it, decorating your ass, tits, and face in their cream the same way they do their kisses and bruises. 

Finally, after what feels like all night, you and Mina lay on the bed, naked, exhausted, and covered in cum. You heavily pant next to each other, exhaustion taking over. Your makeup is destroyed, running mascara coating your cheeks, and your hair is a sexed-out mess. Both of your tinier frames twitch from your orgasms, your pussies leaking with spunk and your assholes clenched around the butt plugs still nestled in your asses. 

Your boyfriends kneel over you with their sweat-soaked muscles and flaccid cocks, watching their girlfriends tap out for the rest of the night. Supremely satisfied but absolutely winded and sore. Bakugou reaches down to grab both your and Mina’s chins in his rough hands, his crimson eyes intense and stern.

“So,” he rasps, “you two lil' bimbos gonna fuck around and act up like that again?” 

You and Mina share a soft-eyed, dazed, and cum-drunk look before you look back up into your man’s eyes. “No, Daddy,” you answer in unison. “We promise.” 

Until next New Year’s, at least. 

THE END.

[illbegottenfaith]

maybe stay here forever (inspired by packing it up by gracie abrams)

the holidays have you feeling sentimental over yours and theo's relationship (theo nott x reader)

a/n - 100 followers in a little over a month is very much insane for me, and like any other writer I rlly appreciate every interaction with my fics <3 also im trying to work on making mutuals (esp with other writers!) but man it does NOT help that im so incurably shy, anyways enjoy!!

tropes/warnings - tw descriptions of grief and anxiety, established relationship, domestic bliss, more angst than I anticipated, an outtake ft. petty!theo throwing down with a 13-year-old

word count - 2.6k

"Y/N! PHONE!”

You placed your butterbeer down with a thunk, weaving your way from your table to the telephone at the counter. Your friend Ivy handed it to you before disappearing into the crowd. You knew who it was even before pressing your ear to the receiver.

“This is highly illegal, as you very well know,” you said breathlessly. "Randy hates anyone using his phone."

“Relax. Ivy said he's gone into the back.”

Even through a telephone line, your boyfriend's voice gave you a giddy sort of thrill. Still, you glanced at the back door anxiously. “For now. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wanted to hear you sound deliciously panicky.”

“Unbelievable. I’m risking being banned from Hogsmeade’s only pub for nothing?”

“What’s the point of having a girlfriend,” Theo wanted to know, “if she won’t enable your illegal endeavours?”

You rolled your eyes. “So, did you manage a game between the four of you?”

“Eh. It was…something. I’m not sure if anyone would call it Quidditch, though.”

“Oh?”

“You should join us next time. The flying, screaming - you’d love it.”

"Rude." The one time Theo had managed to wheedle you into at least trying to play Quidditch with him and some of your friends had not ended very well for you. In your defense, heading straight for the ground sounded like a much safer option than waiting around to be hit by a Bludger.

“You’re still watching the back door, aren’t you?”

You stiffened, eyes sweeping across the crowded pub. He wasn’t here, was he? He did love messing with you. You shook yourself. Of course not, you were using the only telephone in the vicinity. “Am not,” you sniffed injuredly. "Anyway, what are you up to now?"

"I'm about to go down to the shops to run your errands. What did you need, again?"

"Butterbeer fla - are you writing this down?"

"No need, I'll remember."

You frowned. "Teddy, you always say that, and you always forget something."

"Not this time. Shoot."

You huffed. With how aggravating Theo could be, he was lucky he had such a pretty face. "Butterbeer flavoured popcorn, for the popcorn garlands. If they only have regular, don't bother, I have bags and bags of those. New Christmas lights, because one of the bulbs blew out. Wrapping paper, someone's bound to need it. Hm, what else...that disgusting peppermint tea you love - "

"I don't love peppermint tea. It's...it's not bad, that's all."

"Fibber. You cleaned us out last year."

"And I'll do it again if you keep throwing around these unlawful accusations."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, listen - bring Mattheo along with you, will you?"

Having just broken up with his girlfriend, Matteo's Christmas plans fell through at the last minute. You couldn't help it was in your nature to worry. You heard the distant rustle of parchment crackle over the phone. Ah - ha, fibber indeed. "Alright, but for the last time, he's doing perfectly fine on his own." You heard him folding the list up. "He's a grown man, Y/N."

Your tone turned reproachful. "It's the holidays. No one should have to spend the holidays alone, remember?"

"Don't you have your own friends to fret over?"

"They're all going home. You only have yourself to blame for being within arm's reach, you know."

"If I'd known you were going to be this meddlesome I'd have stayed far, far away."

"Please. Like you could have resisted my charms."

You could imagine the teasing look he'd be giving you.

"Speaking of charms, how does a charm bracelet sound? Would you like that?"

You sighed. For some reason, you were having a particularly difficult time thinking of something to ask for this Christmas. You kept putting it off, and now it was less than two weeks away. Theo was doing his best to help, though it did get a bit grating when he'd point out every item in a shop one by one.

"I still don't know," you said helplessly. "Rain-check? Again?"

"Fine. But you don't have much time left." You heard him unfolding the list. "So, for today, butterbeer flavoured popcorn, Christmas lights, wrapping paper and peppermint tea?"

"Yep. Thanks, Teddy."

"Anything for you, doll." Theo cleared his throat and dropped his voice a couple of pitches.

"So what are the odds I can convince you to wear that green little number to tonight's party?"

You grinned at the pub counter flirtatiously. "I don't know. How badly do you want to see me in it?"

Theo groaned. "Going to make me beg for it, baby?"

"In a manner of speaking." You glanced back at the back door, just in case. "Haven't you learned? Sweet-talking will get you everywhere with me." Your eyes drifted to your table, where Ivy was impatiently waving you over. "Damn. I have to go. Ivy looks like she's about to have a coronary."

"Wearthedre-"

You wore the dress. You could be cruel, but not that cruel. It was a cosy sort of party, with friends and friends of friends milling around. You were sitting in Theo's lap on one of the couches, the two of you trying to talk over the music.

" - and so I said to Ivy, if he can't be bothered to even say hi when there's other people around, then that shows how little respect he has for you, and he'll only get worse the more you let him get away with it, and - and I'm rambling."

Theo's mouth quirked into that special smile he reserved just for you. "Only a little. It's very becoming, if that's what you're worried about."

"Yeah, right."

"It is, but only because it's coming from you."

You fiddled with Theo's hair, trying to fix a cowlick of his. "So what did you do today?"

"We got the popcorn, the tea, the wrapping paper. Matteo got a little too excited with the lights."

You raised your eyebrows. "Do tell."

"Mind you, he's never shopped for anything in his life. He has house elves for that."

"Kind of like you when we first met," you teased lightly.

"I don't think he was expecting so many options. He kept winding each type around his limbs to compare. I think the insulation was faulty on one of them so he got a mild electrical shock."

You gasped. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, as far as I could tell. I think he kind of liked it, to be honest."

"Of course he did." You wrinkled your nose. "Then what did you do?"

"Freed him, obviously."

"And then?"

"Then we got the same lights we always do."

"And then?"

Theo shook his head, bemused, and tugged at a lock of your hair. "And then nothing. And then we left. And then I changed and came straight up to the party to find my nuisance of a girlfriend."

You laughed. Theo wasn't being particularly funny, but it was hot and your hair was sticking to the back of your neck and you were high off the thrill that came with being perfectly in sync with your favourite person. In short, you were too buzzed to care. You were flushed, either from the alcohol or the feel of Theo's hand steadily creeping up your thigh.

"I have some bad news, though."

You sat up and scowled. "What?"

"I couldn't get us out of my family's Christmas dinner."

You groaned. You had half a mind to drown Theo in what was left of your drink.

"C'mon, Y/N," he cajoled, "iwe'll only be there a couple of days. Tis the season of giving."

"Sure, I'll give them a push down the stairs."

Theo stifled a snort and plucked the drink out of your hand. "Okay, that's enough punch for you. Speaking of..." He glanced somewhere behind you, sitting up a little and, frustratingly, pulled his hand off your thigh. "The punch bowl might need refilling."

"Don't," you whined, dragging his hand back to where it was a moment ago. "Let Enzo do it. We don't get to see enough of each other as it is."

Theo sighed. "So you're just never going to let me leave?"

"I can't help it," you said, "I like the way you speak. I love hearing you talk." You rested your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering close. "Promise you'll never quit talking to me."

"Done," he murmured against your lips, a hand sliding to the small of your back.

Hours later, you felt yourself stirring. It was the middle of the night, long after the two of you had gone to bed. You regretfully peeled your eyes open, trying to figure out what had woken you up.

Theo was lying next to you. It took a few more blinks to see that he was breathing harder than normal, the moonlight filtering through the window casting a sickly pallor on his face. His breathing quickened till it bordered on hyperventilating, a restlessness spreading through his body as he uselessly clenched at the sheets.

The first night you had witnessed this, you had gone absolutely ballistic. You thought he was having a seizure. After an awkward conversation between a highly uncomfortable Theo and a panic-stricken you, you learned that it wasn't its first, or last, occurrence.

They weren't nightmares, exactly. If they were, Theo would forget them by the time he was shaken awake, and only the residual tremour in his limbs would be left. They were more akin to bouts of subconscious panic and despair surfacing from the recesses of his mind. Some nights, he recovered quickly, falling back to sleep in under an hour. Other nights, you'd hear him creep out of the room so as not to wake you while he whiled away the hours to dawn.

As hard as Theo tried, bless him, he struggled to put an explanation for these attacks into words. You guessed that it might have something to do with the sudden, unexpected departure of certain loved ones from his life after one mildly confusing fight. You had slipped out of bed early one morning, while Theo was still asleep, to get a headstart on your work for the day. A couple of hours later, when he found you in the Slytherin common room and immediately started going off on you, still in his pajamas, you found out how much waking up in an empty bed freaked Theo out.

Now, you shoved Theo hard on the shoulder. His eyes flew open, anxiously twitchy, as his breathing started slowing down. Still half-asleep, you snuggled up to him, pressing an ear to his chest. You could hear his heart pounding under his T-shirt. After a moment or so, once he'd recovered from the shock, he tentatively wrapped his arms around you.

You squeezed an arm around him as well. "'M here," you mumbled into his shirt. You could feel him taking deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down as he distractedly stroked your hair. Slowly, bit by bit, you felt him relax around you as you started to doze off. There the both of you stayed, a tangle of limbs, till the morning.

one year ago

You were sitting in the Astronomy Tower one chilly autumn night, having escaped from the party your friends had dragged you to. The holidays had just begun, and in the coming days, most people would be going home or carrying out their respective plans. Most people didn't include you. This year, more than anything, you wanted to be alone. Your friends assumed you were going home for the holidays, and your family assumed you were spending them with your friends at Hogwarts, and to be completely honest, you didn’t see the need to correct either of them.

You looked up, straining your ears as you heard disembodied footsteps approaching you. A minute later, Theodore Nott emerged from the shadows.

“Mind if I join you?”

You shook your head as Theo settled with his back against a pillar, stretching one overly-long leg towards you while bending the other. You had seen him at the party for the first fifteen minutes you were there. He looked delightfully comfortable in a loose, casual denim button-down. It felt a little odd to think of him as an acquaintance when you saw him nearly weekly while your other friends caught up. But at the same time, there was a tinge of awkwardness in the silence stretching out between the two of you. You weren’t even sure if he knew your name. Now, he was pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his jean pocket.

“Is it okay if I -?”

You shrugged wordlessly, still in a bit of a daze. As far as you could remember, you had never been in a one-on-one setting with Theo. It wasn’t that you avoided each other; it just never came to it. You had plenty of mutual friends acting as a buffer between you two.

All you knew about him was that your families’ tax brackets were far apart enough to mean you’d likely never see him again after Hogwarts. And after getting bruised and beaten by one too many failed relationships, you were kind of over trying to reach out or connect with new people.

And so Theodore's familial prestige was all you took note of. That, you thought as you watched him sigh in relief after the first drag of his cigarette, and his mildly concerning nicotine addiction.

You risked a sidelong glance at him to find him unabashedly looking right at you. But with him sitting perpendicular to you, you were in his direct eye line. Where else was he supposed to look? Literally anywhere else, you wished, as you returned his gaze with an awkward half-smile.

“So, Y/N,” Theo was saying, tapping ash off his cigarette. So he did know your name. You decided then that you were right - you had never been in such an intimate capacity with him before. After all, you weren’t one to forget someone saying your name like…like that. Like he harboured some secret fascination with it, from the way he let it linger on his tongue. “Any special holiday plans?”

You shook your head wordlessly. Theo gave a slight frown.

“You do speak, don’t you?”

You scoffed. “…yes. Obviously.” He’d seen you talk in front of him. Maybe not to him, but he knew you could speak perfectly fine. Your tongue currently feeling like cardboard was an entirely separate mystery.

“Going home?”

You hesitated. Theo was neither friend nor family, but for some inexplicable reason, that made it all the more difficult to lie to him. You blamed it on the smoke, it must have been making you nauseous. That, or his relentlessly demanding stare.

“I only ask because Ivy mentioned you were.”

You gave him a look, mildly peeved. If he already knew, what was he prodding around for? The cooler, more rational part of your mind pointed out that he might just have been trying to make polite conversation, and that a normal person who didn’t keep secrets like you wouldn’t be having this kind of a reaction.

“Yeah. I leave…soon.” Not for the holidays, though.

“That’s funny,” Theo continued pleasantly, “because I heard you mention to Matteo that you were staying here with the girls.”

You froze. Crap. How were you going to explain your way out of this one?

“So?” You couldn’t keep the defensive edge out of your voice. Maybe if you acted confident enough, he wouldn’t realise anything was amiss.

“So…you’re lying to someone.” He tapped his cigarette again, irritatingly casual, as if you were only discussing the weather.

“Why are you so interested in my holiday plans anyway?” you asked crossly, pulling your cardigan tighter around you as a chilly breeze started picking up.

Theo raised his eyebrows. He had the gall to look thrown off, as if he wasn’t the one pursuing the topic.

“People don’t normally lie about their holiday plans. You do realise that, right?”

Oddly enough, something in his tone made you feel embarrassed over being caught in a lie. Scratch that, it was embarrassing to have Theodore Nott catch you in a lie. What for, anyway? He was hardly the most honest person himself. Probably. You felt the back of your neck heat up. You desperately wished he would look away.

“What’s it to you?”

Theo opened his mouth before closing it again. He stewed in his thoughts for a minute while his jaw worked, as if he were trying to find the right words.

“You shouldn’t be alone on the holidays.”

You worried your bottom lip. Was this…concern?

“Maybe I want to be alone.”

“Do you?”

His otherwise dead eyes looked so inquisitive - so piercing yet unnervingly honest for someone as prone to manipulation as him. You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to those eyes. You dropped your gaze to where your fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.

“It’s complicated.”

“So explain.”

You laughed humourlessly. “They wouldn’t understand.”

You watched the shadows on the tower’s floor shift. You looked up to see Theo finishing off his cigarette as he moved to join you, looking out at the same Hogwarts grounds you were facing. It seemed to make it easier, this pseudo-confession, without the brunt of his needling stare.

Here was someone you didn’t feel the urge to explain yourself to. You felt…less alone. Like you finally had someone unequivocally on your side. It had been a long time since you felt that way.

Even with the slight distance between you, you could feel the body heat he radiated. You leaned towards him slightly, but you told yourself it was only because he was blocking the wind and you were sick of shivering. Perhaps you weren’t as subtle as you would have liked, because he stretched an arm around you, running his hand up and down your arm to warm you up as you sank into his heat gratefully. You didn’t have the heart to pull away. You didn’t want to pull away.

“You could explain it to me, you know.” Theo glanced down to where you were resting your head on his shoulder. “If you wanted.”

You toyed with the idea. So, basically, I’m sick of every relationship I’ve been in falling flat, and lately I’ve been feeling like even my friends don’t understand me, so you’ve caught me just as I’m giving up on it - love, that is, romantic or otherwise. You pulled a face. It sounded far too melodramatic even in your own head. Still, you tried.

“Have you ever felt like…giving up?” Theo’s brow furrowed even more. “No, not - I’m not suicidal. Just…when everything gets too exhausting, and reaching out just feels so…”

“Once.”

You hesitated. You weren’t expecting him to agree. Sympathise, maybe.

“After my mother died.”

“…oh.”

Could you sound any more stupid? But you couldn’t help it - in a group of friends who regularly made cracks at each other’s Death Eater fathers, Theo’s mother was a strictly off-limits topic.

"It was a couple of years back." Theo's voice sounded different now; blithe and almost aggressively neutral. "In front of me. I didn't realise until it was too late, but she was my best friend." He paused, idly tracing the lines on his palm, but you got the distinct impression that he was trying very hard to discuss something that was very difficult to talk about.

“I was -“ he broke off with a sharp bark of laughter that sounded as painful as it was unexpected. “I was angry, actually. Fucking livid. Angry at my dad, for being such a piece of shit. Angry at myself, for every time I thought I was too cool to spend time with her. Angry at her because…because it was too soon, and she was all I had. And she knew that.”

Theo had a white knuckle grip on the edge of the tower’s floor, looking dangerously close to trembling. Every ridge in his face stood taut with the ache of poorly healed emotional wounds. “She knew it. She fucking knew it.”

You placed a hand over his. He drummed his fingers restlessly against the floor, and you could feel the agitation seeping out of him as his breathing evened out.

“How did you get over it? The anger?”

Theo gave you a strange, almost pitying look.

“I’m angry nearly every day of my life, Y/N.”

He sighed and dropped his head, finally leaning into you as well, his hand drifting innocently along your arm as he talked, as if you were old friends. “But if Matteo and the others have drilled anything in my head over the years, it’s that isolating yourself is the real killer.”

Your fists were clenched tightly in your lap. It was almost comforting, seeing how your body language mirrored each other's. You didn't think you would ever feel ready to do it once more, letting yourself be susceptible to heartbreak or loss, in this lifetime or the next, but perhaps...perhaps you could manage. For him. You turned slightly, burying your face into his neck and closing your eyes.

“I suppose…I could try," you started in a small voice, partially muffled by Theo's shirt. You took a deep breath in. God, his neck smelled so good. "One last time."

“Of course you can,” Theo murmured, sounding unreasonably patient. “You’re stronger than this.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

You let him keep holding you for a little while longer, just until you warmed up to the idea The quiet felt nice. Theo felt nice, in every sense of the phrase.

“I’m starting to think you didn’t come here for just a smoke break.”

"Ivy might have mentioned something," he confessed. You bit back a smile. You should have guessed. "Your friends really care about you, you know. And you've really worried them."

The bitter taste of guilt hit your jaw. You idly traced the stitching of Theo's jean's pockets. Someone else also seemed rather worried, though you weren't about to point that out.

"Have I?"

"Afraid so. You're lucky you're so precious."

Theo tapped your nose, and for the first time that evening, you grinned. After weeks of wandering in a cloud of grief, the motion felt achingly familiar. Theo returned the smile, as if you couldn't help but amuse him.

“There it is.”

“There what is?”

He looked momentarily speechless again. You frowned. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you made him as nervous as he made you.

“Nothing,” he mumbled hastily. “Can we go back down? It’s freezing up here.”

present day

"Morning."

With some difficulty, you extracted yourself from Theo's embrace. You cleared your raspy throat as you stretched out your stiff limbs.

"H'llo."

Theo leaned down to give you a peck on the lips and you wrapped your arms around his neck. As he pulled back, your hands slid to his face, then down to his shoulders. You weren't entirely sure what you were looking for. "Better?"

"Yes." You saw the sleepy bliss fading from his face. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"You didn't," you lied. "I was up anyway."

Theo quirked an eyebrow interestedly. "What could a respectable girl like you be doing at three in the morning?"

You giggled softly and pulled him on top of you, and you thought he gave a rather appealing demonstration on what you might have been doing. A while later, you glanced at the clock, and saw that it was getting dangerously close to afternoon.

"We should probably get up."

"Mhm. You still need to decide what you want for Christmas, by the way."

Cold air rushed in as Theo rolled off of you, pulling his clothes on. You dragged yourself to the bathroom, still trying to figure out what to ask for. When you stepped out, feeling much more human, Theo was missing. You wandered into the empty common room where he had already set out two steaming mugs of that disgusting peppermint tea on one of the tables, complete with candy canes.

His eyebags are terrible as ever, and he's yawning, but he looks happy. Content. As content as you feel. And you think, this is all you want. For Theo to always get the cold side of his pillow, all the peppermint tea he could want, pleasant Hogsmeade trips...a real break, for once. For him to get everything that he asks for, and more.

bonus outtake

"Let's talk about something else. Anything else." Theo pulled you into his lap. "Like what an adorable elf you make."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I'm not sneaking you into this year's gift donation drive."

"Why not?"

You should have known this was coming. "Listen, you got yourself banned last year."

"It wasn't even my fault. You didn't even hear how snarky that guy was being. 'Oh, where's your present?' Jackass."

"The jackass was 13, Theo."

He sniffed with an injured air. "It's not like I lied to him or something, you know."

"Again, for the last time, I cannot impress enough how incredibly inappropriate it is to point out one of the helper elves as your 'present' to a 13-year-old boy."

"But you were my present. I got to unwrap you and everything afterwards."

[cosmictheo]

𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

(gif credits to @jdmorganz)

— summary: during a stormy night at bill and frank's house, joel teaches you how to hold your gun, and this opens up the perfect opportunity for the two of you to finally release all the feelings of longing and lust you've been repressed for each other over the past few weeks. —pairing: joel miller x female!reader —word count: 3.8k —warnings: just the reader and joel being horny and a complete slut for each other, some implied sexual scenes, age gap (reader is in her 20s), horny teaching on how to wield a gun, bill being the grumpy dad, frank being the nice dad<3

joel's playlist i made for inspo

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

He came walking into your life as if he already owned it. With that dark flannel, tight jeans around his thick thighs and a face as grumpy as Bill's, and that was saying too much. He looked like a fucking Greek god with his tanned face fucking glowing in the sunlight. It was his fifth visit in your shared house with Bill and Frank, and you wanted him just as much as the first time.

Frank had noticed how you had watched him the first time you had welcomed him into your home, eyes lingering long seconds to analyze his strong jaw, brown eyes, he was sure you would be taking him to your room at any moment, if the man would let you, something that was obviously effective, as he looked at you with the same goofy expression on his face, eyes glowing curious with desire. He shared a knowing look with his partner sitting next to him as they both analyzed the way you were taking longer than expected to pour more wine into Joel's already empty glass, his eyes watching you intently.

“Thank you, darlin'.” The pet name rolling throguh his tongue, in that tone of voice so low and husky that made you crack a smile, caramel eyes tracing a discreet path across the wide cleavage of your summer dress, trailing up your collarbones and neck, until they met yours, already set upon him, of course.

That interaction had been in your wettest dreams. You rarely dreamed, but Joel of course had to be the one to change that habit of yours.

And you could have sworn the reaction hadn't been much different for Joel's side, for you doubted he was dumb enough not to fall for the little games you'd been playing the last few weeks. No. He was a smart man. And he knew exactly what he was doing when he looked at you with that dark, longing gaze and brushed his fingers against yours 'accidentally'.

You were helpless, spinning around him― and he was ruthless, giving you just the right reasons to feel that way.

You pushed any over-lustful and delusional thoughts from your mind, taking a long sip of your wine, savoring the delicious bittersweet taste on your tongue and with it, trying to refocus again on the conversation taking place at the table.

Dinner had been indoors this time, as dark, angry clouds carpeted the usually bluish sky, their presence threatening to unleash a great storm at any moment now. And because of this, Frank was beginning to notice himself getting more worried by the hour.

“You really should stay in tonight, at least until the storm passes.” He proposed, setting his fork down beside his empty plate, friendly and sweet look traveling to the two guests you had at home.

Bill, sitting next to him, grunted, totally objecting against his partner's proposition, of course. “Frank.”

Joel finished drinking his own wine and then shared a glance with Tess sitting next to him, conversing telepathically, you guessed. Sometimes you were genuinely curious about the kind of relationship the two of them had, though you weren't sure if it could even be considered as such, since they only treated each other as friends, very close friends. Maybe they fucked on occasionally. Only they knew that, but the mere thought made your stomach twist.

Tess shook her head, offering you all one of her swift smiles. “We wouldn't want to intrude—”

You were quick to interrupt her, eyes wandering from Joel to her, fingers fiddling with the wine glass between them. Your face lit up as you offered her a reassuring smile.

“Bullshit. We won't sleep today knowing you guys are out there with that storm raging overhead.” Frank nodded, agreeing with you, giving a discreet nudge to Bill's side, who had just grumbled when he heard you were on Frank's side, obviously. “'Mid the rain it's hard to hear much more than your own footsteps.”

“She's right.” Joel muttered, looking at you for a few long seconds before turning to his companion, long, dark lashes smoothing his cheekbones as he blinked.

You drank the last sip of wine contained in the wine glass in your hand as you watched him intently, trying to decipher what was going through his head, analyzing the expression on his handsome face.

“Plus, it's going to get dark soon and that doesn't make the situation any better.” Frank added, trying to persuade them, always proving to have that huge heart he had. His eyebrows raised slightly as he noticed the defeated expression on Bill, him knowing too that he was right, as much as they didn't like the guests, they were Frank's friends, or the closest thing to it.

“Alright.” Tess finally replied, smiling sheepishly. “Thanks, guys.”

“No problem, honey.” Frank shook his hand gently, giving no further interest to the subject. And then he stood up, smiling sweetly at both guests. “I'll show you the guest rooms. You can choose the one you like the most, we have plenty of space.”

Tess followed him down the hall, thanking him again for allowing them to stay, making Frank laugh.

Bill stood up as well, grabbing his plate and Joel was quick to copy his action, but he dismissed him. “Leave it to me. (Y/N) will show you the way to your room.”

He gave you a knowing, warning look before turning his back on you and heading for the kitchen, you rolled your eyes at that.

Joel nodded his head softly, standing awkwardly as he watched Bill make his way towards the kitchen with a couple of dirty dishes in his hands. No more seconds had to pass before his eyes returned to you, still sitting in your seat, and already looking up at him. His gaze softened against yours and you felt the honey color of his orbs draw you to them like a never-ending pool, a caramel sea.

“I suppose you'll want to take a bath first, right?” You questioned looking up at him, batting your eyelashes, you noticed how the curve of his lips curved into a small smile, noticing your pretty big eyes focusing only on him. “I don't even want to think about since when you haven't washed your old ass.”

Joel let out a chuckle now, chest expanding against the fabric of his flannel and eyes softening so beautifully that you had the sudden urge to kiss every single mark on his skin. “Honestly, I don't want to think about that either.”

You offered him a sweet smile. “I can lend you some clothes if you want.”

“That would be great.” He nodded his head, returning the smile this time, a real smile. “Thank you, darlin'.”

And there was the pet name again. Goddamn.

His hands were hiding in the pockets of his jeans, a hint that let you knew that he was either nervous or uncomfortable, you weren't quite sure what it was, but your presence definitely caused a reaction in him.

“Follow me, cowboy.” You motioned with your head as you passed him, heading towards the stairs.

He heeded you instantly, steps hurrying to keep up with you, eyes scanning your body from behind, pausing for a few moments at the way your tight pants molded to the curve of your hips and ass, moving up your waist. He had never been jealous of an article of clothing until that moment.

He even imagined his hands running over your body, molding your waist the way your pants did throughout the shower he took, once you handed him a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt you wore to bed from time to time. The thoughts and fantasies of all the positions he wanted you in his mind made his shower go fast, too fast. He couldn't get you out of his head, Joel felt like he would go crazy at any moment.

And when he finally turned off the hot water and dried off, and got dressed in the clothes you had lent him, he had to close his eyes for a few moments, letting himself fall into the exquisite sweet scent that they were impregnated with. Your scent.

And the fact that he would be sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall had his head spinning.

Before passing in front of your room, he took a sigh, shaking his head lightly, in an attempt to push all the filthy thoughts away. He felt like a fucking pervert.

A smile rose to his lips as he peeked through the open door of your room, leaning against the threshold.

“Ain't that a pretty sight.” He grumbled in an amused tone, his forearm rising against the wood, eyes analyzing you as you fiddled with your small pistol, baggy polo shirt brushing a little lower than your bare thighs, loose hair falling down your shoulders.

A feeling of shame rose in his chest, feeling that he had intruded too much, for this was your territory, your personal space and he had simply barged in against the boundaries, a girl who was at least 20 years younger than him, but, it was also true that really, at that point, he wasn't thinking straight, he didn't see clearly anymore, he only saw you, the prettiest girl he had seen in decades, maybe in his whole life.

Your eyes fell on him on your door, allowing you a couple of seconds to admire how good he looked in the gray sweatpants, of course you had passed them to him on purpose and dear God, what a good view. His dark hair was still damp and a couple of gray locks were falling down his forehead, and due to the width of the shirt, you could see a tantalizing glimpse of his chest.

“My pajamas look better on you than on me, damn. That Strokes shirt? It totally fits you.” You commented in a joking tone, now taking the gun in your right hand and lowering it.

Joel rolled his eyes at your playful voice, already used to your jokes, which were usually directed at him in the last few weeks, having left your former spotlight on Bill behind, fortunately for him.

“Have you ever shot that thing in your life, kid?” A single eyebrow rose on his brow, him taking on that playful tone now, full of pure shared complicity, just the two of you.

“Not really.” You replied simply, eyeing the gun in your hand still and maintaining an innocent voice.

Joel hesitated for a few moments, but asked the question anyway. “Then how come you were out there all those months by yourself?”

His gaze was filled with curiosity and confusion, crossing his arms now. You thought he had done it completely on purpose and also that he had caught you ogling his flexing biceps, but he remained silent, waiting for your answer.

You just smiled. “I have my ways.”

And he knew what that meant, for any fool would give his life protecting you and defending you from any goddamned thing that threatened your well being if you claimed to stay by their side. And fools, there were many, as many as there used to be. He considered himself a fool too, in that case.

“Hm…” he hummed, not wanting to push you any further with questions about the past, "let me see your shooting stance then, smartass."

Curiosity rose on your pretty face at his words, but you heeded his command, grabbing the gun with both of your hands now and positioning your feet and legs as you assumed was a shooting stance, of course purposely misplacing it.

“You plan to shoot somethin' standin' up like that?” Joel questioned, analyzing you disapprovingly, but, his brown eyes sparkled with amusement. “Bill would really dislike to see you right now.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Bill dislikes looking at me at any time.”

“What are you talkin' about? The man adores you.” And who wouldn't? He wanted to have added. Joel sighed. “Stay right there.” Uncrossing his arms and making his way over to you, he finally entered your room, once and for all.

Your breath hitched as he positioned himself behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the beating of his heart in his chest and his warm, minty breath against your neck.

His hands went around your body while with one leg he gently spread yours as far apart as necessary. His fingers brushed against the skin of your arms as they lengthened, hands covering yours completely around the weapon now.

“Left squeezes down on the right, like this.” He guided you as he gave your hands a gentle squeeze under his, positioning them correctly. His breath brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke in a low tone so thick you felt it's vibrations throughout your body, your heart beginning to pound. “Take your finger off the trigger or you may cause a problem. You only put it on the trigger when you go to shoot, okay?”

“Okay.” Your lips quivered as did your voice, speaking almost as faintly as a tiny mouse.

“You need to bend over a little for me now, sweetheart.” He whispered against your ear, his southern accent making your heart skip a beat. “Arms outstretched, hands straight— that's it.” You remained silent, completely speechless, for the only thing that could ever come out of your throat would be a fucking whimper. Your body would melt at any moment against his.

Seeing that you maintained the correct position of your hands and arms, his hands now moved down to your waist, positioning your hips as they were meant to be.

“Your hips have to hold your whole body, keep them steady— firm, your feet too.” His little finger lightly brushed against the bare skin of your thigh as he moved your hips, making you exhale air through your teeth. “That's it, good girl.”

Under his palms he could feel the straps of your panties through the thin fabric of your shirt and the and the thrill and heat of it all rushed through his body, right down towards his crotch.

“Mhm… you're not half bad.” He opined taking in your entire posture now, lifting his head slightly over your shoulder, his hands venturing slowly up your waist, uncovering and molding every curve they traversed. His breath collided against your neck, giving you goosebumps. “You're not bad at all, kid.”

You swallowed saliva and dared to finally turn your head, meeting his face inches from yours. His nose had always struck you as one of the most attractive things about him, and seeing it from that angle it really was something else. You wondered what it would feel like to sit on it. Fucking hell.

Your eyes moved from his down his face, until they stopped on his lips, the mere image made you lick yours, half-opening them, almost able to taste them on your own.

He half-opened his mouth and you didn't have to look at his eyes to know he was hesitant, unsure, but, despite all the thousand emotions he felt, he stayed right there, hands clasping your waist, pulling you as close to his body as possible. Waiting for your next move. Probably thinking you'd slap him right there for being an old fucking creep, maybe you'd shoot him too.

But, what you actually did was lean closer to him, twisting your head in a not so comfortable and natural way, but which was certainly worth it once you joined your lips with his.

And it didn't take Joel more than a second to fall into what was really going on and adapt to it with pleasure, following your lips and closing his eyes with delight. His hands tightened around your waist, turning you in his arms so he could kiss you better, twisting his head slightly, nose brushing against yours in the movement.

Without even opening your eyes, you dropped the gun ;―completely empty, by the way― and your hands went up his chest, wrapping around his neck as you made him walk backwards, his back meeting the door, which at the force, closed until his back was pressed against it, with you secured firmly between his arms.

A breathy little moan climbed up your throat as Joel nibbled on your lower lip gently, breaking the kiss and allowing you both to catch your breaths. And he can swear that that little sound he got out of your mouth is how they receive him in heaven.

His eyes remained closed for a few more moments, still savoring your exquisite taste in his mouth.

One of his hands rested on your face, cradling your cheek, thumb gently caressing your cheekbone. His eyes, though dilated, were as soft as ever once he opened them again.

Joel sighed against your mouth, trying to catch his breath, calming all the lust that threatened to take over his whole body. “We really shouldn't.”

But the truth was that he did want to, he did want you, with all his body and soul, every part of him was screaming out pleas to just let himself be carried away by you, to let himself fall into your hands.

You looked up at him with big eyes, confused by his words and totally astonished by what had just happened, but shook your head lightly, your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling it still wet.

“You…” your voice sounded hesitant, face falling with sadness, perhaps disappointment well, “you don't want me?”

Joel felt his chest tighten as he saw fear peek through the beautiful look in your eyes and quickly rushed to reassure you. He would have laughed at how truly silly your words were, given the situation and how you practically had him melted between your hands, by just one damn kiss and your closeness.

“No, baby— of course I want you.” His fingers soothingly caressed your face, so delicately over your soft skin as if you were a doll, made of porcelain. You twisted your head, still confused by his sudden rejection, prompting him to explain further. “Of course I want you, you're the prettiest thing my eyes have ever seen, for God's sake. But we shouldn't… I couldn't do this to you.”

“Joel,” his name came so deliciously out of your mouth that he closed his eyes to hear it echo inside his head, trying to hold himself back, “I've waited so fucking long for this moment and now that I have it, I won't waste it just because of your old man antics.”

“It's not about antics,” he explained after twisting his head, raising his eyebrows at your words and usual sassy behavior, brown eyes opening, threatening to bathe you in their glistening caramel color. “I'm trying to make things right here.”

“If you're worried about the age difference, you're wrong, Joel.” Your fingers sank into his hair as you spoke to him in a soft tone, noting how his gaze had fallen back to your lips for a few moments. “There is no right and wrong in this world anymore, so... why should we held back?”

“You want this too?” He had the nerve to ask, voice low and raspy, tilting his head slightly so he could look at you. “You want me?”

If there was one thing Joel disliked and well, hated, it was intimacy, sharing his vulnerable side, letting his weaknesses show. He'd barely been lucky to do that with Tess, because they'd known each other for years. But with you… everything was different. He couldn't just fuck you and never talk to you again, he couldn't do that, because you simply weren't that to him. You were so much more than that.

“I'd let you fuck me all goddamn night, Joel Miller.” You answered him instantly and a hint of a smile rose at the corner of his lips at your words and the assurance you put into them. “So yeah, I've never in my damn life wanted anything so badly as I want you.”

“All night, huh?” He questioned in an amused tone, eyes analyzing every detail of your face, both hands were now on your face, fingers tracing nonexistent lines and patterns on your skin. “I don't know if my body can take that much back pain. My young days are far behind me now.”

“Then just lie back and let me ride you.”

Those were the words he just needed to hear before fucking avalanching against you, joining his lips with yours in a now, more passionate and exciting kiss. His hands cradled your jaw, keeping you close to him, right where he wanted to have you.

Your hands moved down from his neck to the edges of your shirt and Joel helped you pull it off your body, lustful eyes, eager to see your body without fabrics getting in the way.

“What about Bill and Frank? Tomorrow I want to leave this house without a bullet fired between my eyes.”

You smiled teasingly against his lips. “Relax, they already know. Smart-asses, remember?”

He was aware of the relationship you had with Bill and Frank, especially the former, for he had been the one who had found you in the first place, merciful enough to let you live and let you into his home. And well, who could say no to those big eyes and innocent, pretty face? Even Bill hadn't been able to fight against it.

“Right.” He answered breathlessly, not really having the slightest idea of what you had just said, as he was so intently concentrated on contemplating the magnificence of your body, completely enthralled, blurred mind and all. Suddenly, the sweatpants were too tight in his crotch area.

He was just taking the time he deserved to observe you in front of him, leaning up to leave kisses on your jaw, down your neck, past your shoulders. His hands moved up your waist, stopping under your breasts, his gaze moving up from them to you again, eyes as sweet as honey, but so dilated, darkened by lust and desire, eager for more of you.

In an instant you deduced what he was trying to say from his gaze and before he could even formulate any words, you stroked his cheek, thumb tracing his lower lip affectionately. “Just touch me Joel, please. I'm all yours.”

“Goddamn it.”

― — ―

Morning had arrived and the sun was shining high in the sky as if one of the most chaotic storms of the last few months had not passed just the night before.

“Good morning.” You greeted Bill, Frank and Tess sitting at the table, your hand clutching your coffee cup.

Joel was already seated as well and under Bill's frowning gaze, he gave you a short look, barely smiling in your direction as he took a sip of his own coffee, black and bitter of course.

“Mornin'.” You were greeted back by him, perching the cup on the side of his toast and giving you an affectionate look. You smiled back at him.

Tess looked at her partner with a raised eyebrow, noting the shared complicity in your interaction, as did Bill and Frank, of course, who shared a single knowing glance, Frank smiling and Bill with his lips as pursed as his brow.

You cleared your throat, taking in your hand one of the cookies you had baked with Bill the day before, trying to ignore the awkward silence that had suddenly formed.

“So…” Frank began to speak, tone playful, but face with feigned concern, “it really was rowdy last night, a lot of noise out there.”

Your eyes widened at his words, second meaning all too obvious to everyone. Joel took a long sip of his coffee once more, lowering his eyes to the surface of the table after running into Bill's watchful, almost killing gaze.

“Really loud storm.” Tess agreed with him, nodding her head slowly and bringing her cup to her mouth. Of course she would never stop teasing Joel about this.

“I hate the storm.” Bill mumbled with a displeased face.

[afsalovescats]

Hiya! How are you doing? I hope you're doing well! Anyways, I have a tgcf request.

So I'm a huge simp for Xie Lia, don't really see many x readers of him that's only with him and the reader, especially female reader. So I was wondering if you could make a Xie Lian x female reader smut? If not, it's okay, at least I tried asking😅 Have a great day/night!👋🏻

sooo before hand, it seems the dynasty tgcf was inspired by was the shang, xia or zhou dynstay, so honestly I'm not good at writing stuff like this but please please I hope this turned out well! wish me luck! ahhh tgcf writers send me those fancy words to use in fics plzzzzz! but anywho I think this might be my fav fic hehehe!

short writing n grammer mistakes( • ᴖ • ｡)

warning : smut n also in one line its described reader has breasts but that's I think the only time its mentioned

The sun shining so brightly, it was affecting you so much, unlike Xie Lian who despite sweating as much as you, was gleaming as an angel, his skin glowing and shining. You on the other hand, looked so disheveled with messy hair sprawling everywhere and your mind hazy due to the very hot summer heat.

You let out a deep sigh as the sweet essence of the liquid enters you mouth. the sweet nectar dribbling down the sides of your mouth as you continue greedily sucking it as you. Luckily it was the season for peaches! After a hard day of work, you indulged yourself without a second thought.

Xie Lian was also indulging himself, except, only in the sight of you and not the said fruit that was in his hands. "A-lian, this is so refreshing. You take a bite too!" you exclaim happily as you urge him to take a bite out of the unbitten peach.

After a moment he stutters, slightly suprised as his cheeks flush and he zones back in. He then complies and takes a small bite. The flavor gracing his tongue as he swallows. A smile then graces his lips as he nods and replies, "It is delicious."

A simple reply as he licks his lips at the sight of you and also the freshness of the peach. He felt so shameful from these sinful thoughts about you. But he paid no mind since they were just thoughts...at the moment!

You take another big bite of the juicy peach, sinking your teeth into the tender layer. The sweet juices burst in your mouth and dribble down your chin once again. You let out a soft moan of pleasure, eyes fluttering closed as you savor the delectable flavor. It was so refreshing and delicious, plus well deserved after a hard day's work!

Xie Lian unable to resist the urge, holds his own peach in one hand as he uses the other one to move your chin to his direction. You open your eyes confused as he then wipes the sticky substance of the juice off your chin, where it was sliding slowly down your neck. "Such a sweet, messy thing..." he murmurs, eyes lidded slightly, as he then licks each finger coated in the sticky sweetness to remove the juice coating his long delicate fingers displaying off the sight of him looking....

Gosh, now you were in his position. The sight flusters you deeply. A blush coating your cheeks, not from the heat but from another primal feeling. Xie Lian turns his attention back to you as he sees you staring at him so tentatively. In the moment all you can murmur is "A-lian..." as you know what's coming next.

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

"A- lian!" you practically yell, moaning and writhing under said man. He continues burying his head into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as his thick rod is also entering your heat. Gosh the summer heat in the night was making it unbearable as both bodies, covered in sweat, glistened in the moonlight. Yet also stuck to the thin fabric underneath you both.

You hated summer the most, nights like these made you require another shared bath. Summers also made both you and Xie Lian face sticky problems while having moments like these during the night.

He was too far gone and so were you, yet you enjoyed nights like these in your own quiet domestic lives. You adored him so greatly. "Ah..." Xie Lian lets out a soft groan as he intertwines one of your hands together as he now sweetly also intertwines your lips together.

It fit so perfectly. Soon enough, once again, tongues intertwined as spit and saliva combined from both shared mouths as you both hum and make small noises while also kissing a little sloppy since the pleasure was making every sense of your's very hazy.

His delicate slender hands trail down towards your breasts as he cups them in his hands, giving them a good squeeze as he then pinches them. You, closing your eyes since it felt so good. You immediately gasp again as the pace picks up as both the pleasure from his hands and member make you feel drowsy in the best way possible.

The continued sloppy movements continued as you continue holding onto anything you could. You also switch between sucking and biting the soft perfect lips on yours. Everything about this moment was so perfect. Xie Lian above you was heavenly. As his heavenly pillar filled you up whole. (svsss reference hehehehe)

"You were so tempting today," he speaks up, his voice not staggering at all as his typical smile appears once again. But his actions said otherwise, he wouldn't stop not yet. "hah..." he lets out as his eyes close in bliss with furrowed brows that made your stomach have another wave of heat as the feeling of warmth takes over your body.

Apparently Xie Lians too. Not long after, your legs are hiked over his hips and your pulled impossibly closer, then next thing you know it. Pleasure overwhelms you both as he fills you up, and you, meeting the same fate as Xie Lian. throw your head back as you both bask in the moment.

For a moment Xie Lian lets all of his senses override anything for a little. As he lays gently on top of your body, the pair both spent as you turn his head a little to the side so you can lay kisses on the nape, or whatever part of his neck you could reach. Little bites mixed in as the quietness and both of your pants fill up the room.

"Tempting how?" you ask after a while, your brain slightly going back in order as you recall the words he mentioned.

"Tempting as in you teasing me earlier." he murmurs as he picks at imaginary lint at your shoulder, his beautiful long hair also sprawled, except as expected, the man above from you looked better. What could you be expecting?

"Earlier?" you ask thinking back to any events that had happened, yet none had grazed your mind by the slightest so then you meet his eyes confused.

"The peaches were delightful, weren't they?" he hints as he chuckles.

Oh. Oh.

"Shameless, aren't we, A-lian?" you say with a teasing smile as you hint at Xie Lian for being so perverted.

Suddenly then you feel something inside you get hard again as his beautiful pale skin flushes like a porcelain doll as he stutters. Oh Xie Lian. The things you make me think

You sigh knowingly, Xie Lian will be the death of you, not like you minded.