#like sometimes I lightly trace over the tops of my feet / toes and it’s like

[thebest-medicine]

ugh after a long day at work on my feet I really just want to come home, plop my feet in someone’s lap, and have them tickle my feet softly/lightly for like a(hundred) hour(s) 💓💗💓💗💓

[e-dubbc11]

Scars

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of childhood trauma, attempted kidnapping, fluff, smooches

Word Count: 1.8K-ish

Summary: Billy comes home while you’re taking a nap, he notices a scar on your ankle and wants to know the story of where it came from

A/N: I found this idea online somewhere. I needed a little help with new ideas and this caught my eye. I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The weather outside your window changed quickly from the early afternoon sun immersing the surrounding buildings in its warm light to it disappearing behind the fast moving gray clouds that swallowed up the bright blue sky.

“Where did the sunshine go?” You said out loud to yourself from your penthouse perch, gazing down at the busy city below.

This time of year could be quite unpredictable as far as the weather goes. Late summer was still very hot, sometimes less humid, and could get a little cool at night into the early morning. But also the sun could be blazing in the sky one minute and the next time you looked outside, your once blue sky was now fully covered in dull gray clouds, ready to rain down on top of you.

And then you heard it, the sound of light rain tapping against the window as you gathered everything you needed to give yourself a relaxing home pedicure. You had the bubbling and warming foot spa, the lavender bath salts, moisturizing lotion, and all of the tools you needed.

Soaking your feet after a long day at work felt wonderful. The hot water bubbled under the balls of your feet, massaging away the stress of your day. As you inhaled sharply and let out a forceful exhale, your shoulders relaxed and your eyes closed, tuning everything out except the rhythmic sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

Hopefully, you will be finished before Billy comes home.

**********

Faintly, you could hear the rain drumming against the roof. Earlier, that sound had lulled you to sleep and it was also the first thing you heard as you were starting to stir. After painting your nails, you told yourself you were just going to close your eyes for a minute while they were drying.

An hour later, you didn’t even hear Billy come home.

The strong scent of nail polish hung in the air as he walked through the door. Billy called out to you but you didn’t hear him.

“Baby?” He said softly.

No answer.

Meticulously, Billy put his things away…his keys, jacket, gun. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt sleeves so he could roll them up to his elbows. He followed the scent of nail polish to your shared bedroom and paused in the doorway to briefly watch you while you slept.

Outside, the sky was gloomy and overcast but inside you were his bright spot. You were the warm afternoon sun that danced across his face and made him smile after his dismal ride home.

Billy carefully walked over to the bed, looked at your newly painted toes and smiled because you had painted them black, his favorite. They shined like patent leather even in the dimly lit room. Your hands were resting on your stomach and he watched as your chest rose and fell gently with every breath you took.

He committed to memory the way you looked at that moment, the soft comfortable shorts you were wearing, his hoodie that you constantly stole from him to keep your arms warm, and he loved the peaceful look you had on your face while you slept.

When he looked closely at your ankle, he spotted a triangle shaped scar that he had never noticed before. Billy thought he had memorized every inch of your body but he didn’t remember if you had ever mentioned how you got that one.

Reaching for you with his agile fingers, he lightly and slowly traced the outline of your scar, while desperately trying not to wake you. Billy had a very light touch but between the rain and the slight tickle you felt on your ankle, your eyes gradually fluttered open.

A sly smile stretched across your lips as you looked down and saw him tracing the scar on your ankle.

“Whatcha doin’, handsome?” You asked.

Before turning his head to look at you, Billy smiled and replied, “I was admiring your fresh pedicure when I noticed this scar and I don’t know what it’s from, I thought I knew every mark on your body. Why don’t I know about this one?”

Billy’s tone was somber and his lips pulled back over his teeth like he was upset that he didn’t know all about your scar.

“It’s just an old bicycle injury, Billy. It’s not a big deal.” You replied and shrugged at the same time as you tried to conceal how nervous you were.

Billy brought his gaze up to yours, his endless brown eyes looked like two black ink wells and the muscles in his jaw tensed when he asked about the scar.

“Tell me, my love.” He said with an uncomfortable smile, almost like he knew it wasn’t JUST an old bicycle injury.

“Billy, I don’t know—“ You had started to say before he interrupted you.

“Just tell me what happened, sweet girl.” He said calmly. “It’s ok.”

Trying to smile, you sat upright in bed with your back resting on the headboard. It had been a long time since you had thought about that day.

It was around this time of year, late summer, the sun was high in the sky so it had to have been around lunchtime or a little after when you were outside playing with your brother and your cousin. You were probably around 11 and the three of you were getting ready to ride your bikes back home from the park where you were playing.

You were the oldest, it was your job to watch out for the younger ones, so you let them ride up ahead of you. Once they had turned onto your street, you felt immense relief that you were almost home and that’s when you sensed a car slowly pull up behind you.

And then you heard that voice.

“Hey sweetheart, you lost? Anyone ever tell you how pretty you are?” He had said with an evil smile.

“Pretty…” Billy hated that word. As you looked over at him, he had clenched his fist, his face was flushed with rage, while he gripped the blanket on the bed so tight that you thought he may rip it.

You couldn’t recall what the man looked like when he called out to you but you do remember his voice. It sounded like he did nothing but smoke cigarettes all day, it was deep, scratchy and made your skin crawl, like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Nervously shaking your head, you said, “No, I’m fine.”

Your heart was leaping out of your chest and you felt the sweat on your brow about to trickle down your forehead when you decided to make a run for it. When you forcefully pushed down on the bike pedal, your foot slipped and you ended up slicing your ankle on the jagged teeth of the pedal which is when another man jumped from the car and tried to grab you.

But you managed to pedal as fast as you could to catch up to your brother and your cousin who were waiting for you around the corner from where the man tried to grab you.

They didn’t follow you and you never saw them again but the memory always came back when the scent of clove cigarettes was in the air, or heard a deep raspy male voice, or felt someone walking behind you.

It was something from your childhood that you never spoke of again until now, not even to your brother or your cousin who were with you that day. And you’ve been looking over your shoulder ever since.

Knowing what Billy had been through as a young child, your entire body tensed watching him seethe with anger. His cheeks were flushed and you could hear him grinding his teeth while still tightly gripping the blanket in between his fingers.

“Billy? Say something, please.” You said, breaking the silence.

He gently kissed the scar on your ankle and crawled from the foot of the bed up to you, pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head. His heartbeat pounded against your ear as you melted into his arms and closed your eyes.

“You don’t look over your shoulder when you’re with me, baby.” He said in a slightly confused tone.

You pulled away to snake your arms around his neck and look into his eyes.

With a warm smile, you replied, “Being with you is the ONLY time I don’t look over my shoulder, Billy. Because I know they’d have to get through you to get to me.”

Billy gently pressed his lips to yours which tasted like peppermint. His shoulders relaxed a little as he smiled back and said, “I’ll never let anything happen to you, sweet girl. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

After finally telling someone your secret, the weight of that secret had finally been removed from your chest and you could breathe a little easier now. Your terrifying childhood experience that had been kept inside all of these years was finally out in the open but you were ok with it.

“I love you.” You said in barely more than a whisper as your eyes welled up with tears. “So much, Billy.”

Billy just smiled, lightly brushed his knuckles against your cheek, and kissed you again before saying, “I love you too, sweet girl. And I’ll pay to have that scar removed, just say the word and it will be gone.”

In that moment, you felt so loved, so seen, and understood. All he wanted to do was make sure you were happy, that you were ok, and he would do anything for you to make that happen, even going as far as paying to have your scar removed.

“Oh Billy…that’s so sweet. But my bike probably saved my life, and yes, looking at that scar reminds me of that day but I’m very thankful for that bicycle and the mark it left on me…literally.” You said, trying to smile. “Thank you, my love.”

Although your experience wasn’t the same as Billy’s, he knew it could have been so much worse for you than it was but that didn’t make him any less angry about it. Your only wish was that he had been able to escape his worst nightmare also.

He knew what kind of real life monsters existed in this world and that he may never have had the chance to meet you if they had taken you. You were the person that understood him the most and loved him for exactly who he was. He didn’t even want to think about what his life would be like without you…but he’d never have to.

“Well, if you ever change your mind…” Said Billy, pulling you tight to his chest again.

You would always be there for each other, for love, comfort, or just to listen.

Relaxing into his embrace, you kissed him on the neck, and said with a smile, “I know, baby…I know.”

It felt good to finally let go.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @fakehappy27 @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @celestialend @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @vaguekayla @rosaleenablack @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @aoi-targaryen @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads @ittybxttykxttytxtty

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[miekasa]

1+1 (levi ackerman)

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au, fluff...... again....... is it getting boring and predictable yet lmao, once again the dog’s name is captain and no i do not regret it

↯ word count: 2.5k

↯ summary: levi ackerman is a cuddler, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. (aka me once again pushing my physical affection is levi’s love language agenda because he’s a poor, touch-starved little man).

i. the lap pillow: person A sits upright, while person B rests their head in person A’s lap. head pets and hair playing option, but highly encouraged.

Levi spent an obnoxious amount of time picking out the perfect couch for his apartment. He might have paid a little bit more than what he’d originally budgeted for, but it was worth it; his soft, plush couch and accompanying cushions were equally comfortable and beautiful, matching the interior of his living room, and posing at the perfect nap spot when Levi was too tired to make it to the bed, or wanted to lounge around with Captain for a while.

Or, well, it used to be worth it. Because now, Levi would rather lay his head on your lap than on his stupid, expensive couch and all its cushions.

Sure, the couch still provides comfort or refuge for the rest of his body, a comfy cavern to stretch his limbs or crash on after a long day, but with you there, all the benefits go to his head; literally, because when his head is in your lap, you stroke his face, comb through his hair, pad your thumb against his lips—whatever, Levi doesn’t really fucking care, because all of it is heavenly.

“Do you want to go to bed?” you question softly, hand raking through Levi’s hair. He’s lying on his back, not even pretending to have been watching the TV, as to let you have maximum access to his hair and face.

“No,” he says shortly, shifting his foot around to allow for your yorkie puppy to curl up at the other end of the couch, “Comfortable here.”

You try to hide the chuckle from escaping your lips. Levi certainly wasn’t shy about how much he liked your affections, especially within the closed walls of his apartment; but it always amused you just how simultaneously clipped, yet clingy he could be about it.

“Your neck is going to hurt, love,” you tell him, slowly moving your right hand from his hair to trace along his eyebrow, then down his cheek.

Levi huffs, ever so slightly. Then, gently, turns on his side, rotating his body and head, so that his cheek is now pressed along your thigh, legs curled up to his stomach, allowing Captain more space to curl into a ball at the base of Levi’s feet. He bends his arms, both coming to rest on your thighs as well, just an inch from his face.

“It’s fine like this,” he grumbles, voice thick with sleep—and a bit of frustration, because you’ve ceased playing with his hair at this point, “I’m going to take a nap, don’t move.”

You can help your laughter from escaping, “I don’t really have a choice, now do I?”

He hums in affirmation, shifting around just a bit to his comfort. You smile at the way he wiggles his toes, Captain taking it as an invitation to snuggle closer to Levi. You rest your right hand against Levi’s shoulder, lightly massaging his muscles as to not disturb his drifting to sleep, and resume your focus on the TV ahead of you.

Just when you’d thought Levi was on his way to falling asleep, he lets out a discontented grunt, moving his arm backwards to grab at your wrist, and with gentle, but firm force, moves your hand that was massaging his shoulder to the top of his head. He says nothing, only moves his hand back to its previous position, and once again shifts to readjust his napping position.

You get the message, and with a wide smile, you carefully begin to thread your fingers through his hair again; and with a satisfied purr, Levi snuggles his head into your lap, and finally drifts off to sleep.

ii. the half spoon/chest rest: person A lays flat on their back, while person B curls into their side, laying their head on person A’s chest.

Levi rarely falls asleep before you do, so he’s had quite a bit of time to observe your sleep habits—as non-creepily as possible, of course.

You’re a pretty normal sleeper—again, not that he spends his time watching other people sleep, or anything—but you do have your own quirks; most of which Levi finds endearing on some level or another. Like the way you always have to have a minimum of three pillows on your side of the bed, even if you don’t sleep with all three of them at the same time. And the way your arms subconsciously curl up, usually around a pillow if Levi isn’t there, or even around yourself if there’s no object for you to grasp.

One of your sleeping ticks he isn’t particularly fond of is the way you move around. Not sporadically, and thankfully, not to a point that leaves you sprawled across the mattress at an obscure angle, but just… around. He especially hates when you roll away from him, because you usually roll away and never roll back.

Which is why Levi is generally fond of cuddling positions in which he’s holding you, as to make sure you don’t, quite literally, roll out of his arms. Because nothing pisses Levi off more than waking up and realizing you’ve rolled away and taken to snuggling against your pillow instead of him. He’s much better than a pillow. Warmer, too. Not mention, a real, actual human being.

Right now, you’re tucked almost expertly into Levi’s right side, head laying on his chest, your right arm over his stomach, hand just barely tickling the exposed skin from his shirt riding up. Levi likes the feeling of your shallow exhales rippling against his shirt, and the warmth of your cheek pressed against his chest.

He’s about to fall asleep himself, when he feels you shuffling, and oh no, not on his watch. Before the worst can happen, Levi secures his right arm over your shoulder, as to hold you against him. The urge to roll seems to leave you then, the only movement is of your right arm, which you bend at the elbow, now laying your palm against his pecs.

Levi exhales, content. Now he can sleep peacefully. Well, almost. There’s one more thing he likes about this position, and it’s his ability to use his free hand to reach down, scoop under your knee and drape your leg across his waist—and he does so happily; smiling to himself as you subconsciously burrow yourself further into his side.

Much better, Levi thinks, letting his eyelids flutter shut. It was time for bed, after all, and he had a feeling he’d be waking up warm and cozy in the morning.

iii. full contact cuddle: person A sits or lays on their back, while person B rests almost directly on top of them.

“I don’t get why you like this so much,” you say, words mumble, as you shimmy up Levi’s body to lay your cheek against his chest, “How do you possibly benefit from this?”

If you asked Levi, this was probably his favorite way to cuddle. Something about having almost all of your body weight on top of him, your head against his chest, and his arms wrapped completely around you just made him feel warm, and cozy, and content. Plus, the added bonus of you laying directly on top of his dick.

He could say all of that, but instead he opts for a minimal hum, and, a simple, “It’s warm.”

“Yeah, because you’re warm, Levi,” you point out, but burrow into his skin anyway. You’re not exactly complaining, laying on Levi is nice; especially a shirtless Levi, with how warm his body runs. And, well, for other reasons, too.

Once again, you’re met with a non-committal hum. Levi just holds you for a bit, listening for the way your breathing slows and evens out, feeling for signs of your body slowing down against his.

After a while, he shifts his arms, moving so that they’re no longer stacked atop each other, but with his palms both resting against your back, creeping under your shirt. “It’s the weight,” he replies carefully, moving his right hand to rub against your skin, “It feels nice.”

“The weight?” you question, lifting your head to look at him, your chin poking into his chest. Levi looks down to meet your eyes, a small nod in reassurance.

“I can’t… explain it,” he tells you truthfully, “I just like the feeling of you against me. It’s not symbolic or any shit like that, it just, feels good. Sometimes feels like we’re… I don’t know, connected or some shit. I can feel you breathe when I breathe, and all that.”

It’s a poor explanation, and nothing close to what he wants to be able to convey, but you understand him anyways; you always do. You have to hold back your overgrown smile, just barely letting the corners of your lips turn upwards at Levi’s response. You extend your neck briefly to place a short kiss against his jaw, before turning to head to lay back on his chest.

“No, I get it,” you reassure him, snuggling against him for extra measure, “Feels nice to just know you’re there.”

Levi hums in affirmation, his hand squeezing at your waist affectionately—a silent thank you for being able to read between his lines. You lay like that for a while, your exhales tickling against Levi’s bare chest, while his hands massage at your back.

“Besides,” he says, his hands slowly venturing down past your waist; he squeezes at your hips, adjusting you so that your center is directly on top of his, and encouraging you to lift your upper half, so that you’re looking down at him, a full view of the wicked smile on his face, “I kind of have a thing for you being on top of me.”

iv. the seated snuggle: person A sits upright, maybe slouched a bit, while person B cuddles into their side; a hand wrapped around A’s waist or arm, and B’s head resting against A’s shoulder.

Levi likes his alone time, but even when he’s focusing on himself, he’s acutely in tune with you and your emotions. And to be honest with himself, he spends a lot of his alone time thinking about you—consciously or not, you find a way into his brain, and Levi has long since accepted that you’re a permanent, and very welcome presence in his life, one that can be more powerful and enjoyable that his own solitude.

Even when he’s sitting on the couch, right leg bent and tucked under his left at the knee, a book Hange had recommended in his hand, with a shitty hospital drama playing as background noise on the television; even then, when he’s relaxing and enjoying his novel, he purposefully feels out your presence and gauges your emotions.

Though, if you asked him, it shouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to understand that you were feeling a little out of it today—maybe not quite sad, but moving a bit slower, perhaps tired, or annoyed by your day at work—despite the cheery lilt in your voice. But Levi knew, he could feel it, that something was off; but he could also feel that this something wasn’t getting talked about today, or that, perhaps you just didn’t have the words to express it right now. 

Levi greets you as he would when you come through the door, tilts his head up when you lean down to give him a kiss, and lets you pad into your bedroom to change and shower. You shuffle around after that, making your way to the kitchen to reheat the dinner he’d cooked earlier, and flitter between your bedroom and the living room after that.

And Levi knows; he knows that you want to talk to him, but that you wouldn’t dare to interrupt his alone-time, because you know how important it is to him. What you fail to understand is that you’re just as, if not more, important to him because you give him space.

So, Levi waits until you’re hovering by the doorway of the living room again, and then, without looking up from his book, silently opens and extends his left arm. He counts three seconds before you come shuffling over to him, wasting no time tucking yourself into his side, and resting your head on his shoulder. Levi hums when he feels your cheek press into his neck, and wraps his arm securely around you.

“Long day?” he questions, eyes still on his book, but reading at a marginally slower pace now.

Your eyes flutter shut at the question, working harder to snuggle yourself into Levi, wrapping your arms around his waist, “The longest.”

Levi hums, finishing his page, and tucking the ear to mark his spot before closing his book. He turns his head to press a kiss into your forehead, and pulls you a little closer against him. “It’s over now, I’ve got you.”

v. the times together/pretzel: person A rests with back against a wall/couch/object, and person B mirrors their positions; both A and B’s legs are intertwined, while they look at each other.

Levi will only take a bath after he’s showered, because there’s no appeal in sitting in your own wet dirt. That being said, post-shower baths with you are something he looks forward to, especially after a long, drawn out work week.

You both sit facing each other, legs bent and intertwined, your empty champagne glasses resting on the tiled floor beside the tub. Levi lets you make bubble beards on his face, and smiles as you splash them away and placate it all with a crescendo of kisses.

“I love you,” you smile between presses of your lips, the palms of your hands squishing Levi’s cheeks together—and he just lets you, because he loves you.

Levi thinks it’s his turn now, though he has no interest in bubble beards, or mohawks, simply mirroring your actions to cup your face with his hands, pull you closer, a whisper on your lips.

Wet thumbs pad against your cheeks, and Levi thinks that even like this, with only the flicker of candle flames illuminating your face, that you’re beautiful, and the best thing he’s ever gotten the opportunity to love and care for in his life.

So he lets you know, “And I love you.” And he means it; and you know he does.

[loserholland]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 | 𝐁.𝐁

Pairing ➺ Modern!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warning ➺ Nothing but fluff

Word Count ➺ 2.9k

Summary ➺ In which you discover Bucky’s love language.

A/N ➺ Based off a dream I had a couple nights ago, I’ve been trying to shift for the past ten months but I’m pretty sure that dream could’ve been me lucid dreaming? This is the full version- the previous version I posted was only half because I was afraid it wouldn’t do so well- BUT here we are! Enjoy! Comments and feedback appreciated <3

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou​@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv​ @spider-mendes​ @jessybellsworld​ @quaksonhehe​

☞  Masterlist  ☜

There are five different types of love languages:

Words of affirmation; Encourage, affirm, appreciate, empathize. Listen Actively.

Physical Touch; Non-verbal- use body language and touch to express love.

Receiving Gifts; Thoughtfulness, make your spouse a priority, speak purposefully.

Quality time; Uninterrupted and focused conversations. One-on-one time is critical.

Acts of Service; Use action phrases like “I’ll help..”. They want to know you’re with them, partnered with them.

Bucky’s love language was physical touch. Any chance he got, he’d have his hands on you, tracing random patterns on your arm, his face nuzzled into your neck, tracing the lines on your palm. Dragging you back to bed when you’re about to get your day started peppering kisses all over your face in protest.

Some people may see it as clingy but (Y/N) never saw it as that, she loved when Bucky showered her with love- he didn’t need to say anything when he’d come into her room from a long day at work, his eyes focused on his feet.

The sound of their bedroom door slowly creaking open caught her attention, she knew who it was. Slowly moved over to the other side of the bed, pulling back the duvet covers allowing the man to join her. Once he slipped under the covers he engulfed her into a hug, burying his face in her neck.

She ran her hand up and down his back soothingly the other tangled in his damp hair, he began to relax his shoulders more as she continued to massage his scalp.

They would lay like this till tell fell asleep, the next morning however Bucky wouldn’t want to let her go claiming she was too warm and huggable.

“Bucky honey? Ready to go?”

They were currently in California for her younger brother’s wedding. The last time they were in California it was for Christmas and, that’s when you had first introduced your family to Bucky.

“Do I look okay?” Bucky asked for what felt like the hundredth time, smoothing his hands over his pants.

(Y/N) cupped his cheeks pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, “You look handsome, as always Bucky. They’re gonna love you as much as I love you.” the door to your childhood home swung open revealing your mother. Bucky’s right hand immediately intwined with your left giving his a small squeeze.

“(Y/N/N)! Come in, come in! And oh! You must be James, she talks nonstop about you!”

“Mom!” (Y/N) whispered causing Bucky to chuckle loudly lifting his left hand for her mother to shake, “All good things I hope.” her mother laughed in return, “Oh none of that let me give you a hug!” You stifled back a laugh at your mother’s sudden action,

Bucky leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom raising his brows slightly, “Doll, I’ve been ready. You’re the one that’s still in the bathroom.” She lifted her gaze to the mirror a playful smirk painting her lips.

“Well, I wanted to get the day started but you pulled me back to bed.” Bucky pushed himself off the doorframe walking over to wrap his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Fine fine, we’re both at fault.” Bucky murmured kissing the base of your neck all the way up to your cheek, he spun you around moving his hands from your waist the the counter top caging you in.

He dipped his head down capturing your cherry stained lips it was easy to get lost in the moment when he had you like this, “Bucky.” he hummed against your lips moving his hands from the counter to cup her cheeks.

(Y/N) placed her hands onto his chest pushing him back slightly “If you keep kissing me-” he hummed again not budging from his spot “we won’t leave this bathroom.” she pulled away admiring his red stained lips.

“C’mon loverboy, I want to beat to the crowd.”

Loverboy

A nickname Sam one of Bucky’s friends from college had given him.

Sam watched as Bucky walked into the kitchen heading straight for the medicine cabinet taking out some painkillers and a warm compress. They were suppose to be heading out for a boys night but your cramps were killing you and even if you assured Bucky you’d be fine he didn’t budge.

He snickered to himself knowing exactly who they were for, he had told Steve many times that you had him wrapped around your finger and that anytime you enter the room he turned into a lovesick puppy.

“What do you have to say Sam?”

His back was still faced away watching as the keurig filled the mug up with hot water, he reached for the tea packets besides the k-pods tearing the packet open.

“Oh loverboy, you’re down bad there’s a word that Peter uses- pimp? No that’s not right, something imp-”

Bucky snorted as he placed the teabag into the mug, “An imp is a mischievous person.” Sam snapped his fingers, “Simp! That’s what they’re using now days.” Bucky glared tossing the teabag that sat in the mug long enough, “I don’t care what vocabulary Peter uses. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to tend to loving girlfriend. See yourself out!”

Sam chuckled loudly before shouting, “Whatever you say loverboy!”

He entered back into your shared bedroom placing all the items onto the night stand, slipping under the covers so he can hold you in his arms. He sat up right against the headboard allowing (Y/N) to rest against his chest, “Bucky, you can go if you want I’ll be fine.” you mumbled a slight pang of guilt filled your chest.

“Doll, I’d rather be here with you. I see them at work everyday- now let me take care of you okay?”

“I love you.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I love you too.”

The two wandered the women’s section dresses catching (Y/N) eyes as she tugged her boyfriend to follow, he didn’t mind shopping with her all too much because he’d encourage her to get literally everything she laid eyes on. She pushed off buying a dress for the wedding and of course waited till the day before.

“What about this one?”

She picked up the beautiful blue midi dress, perfect for the spring weather. She turned around lifting the dress next to Bucky’s cheeks, he raised his brow in confusion “Hm, I’m getting this one- reminds me of your beautiful eyes.” tugging his hands once again she looked for one more dress, Bucky’s cheeks were tinted a bright red.

(Y/N) loved seeing him flustered and left well speechless, “Doll you’re such a tease sometimes.” she stopped in her tracks turning around on her standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“And you love it.”

She was rushing yet again to get ready due to Bucky not wanting her to leave mumbling five more minutes which turned into thirty. When they were in the shower Bucky wouldn’t let her leave, holding the two under the running water ignoring her protest before the sound of her mother knocking on the bathroom door caused them to get out.

“(Y/N)! Where’s James! Oh there he is-” Bucky sat on the bathroom counter top giving her mother a warm smile “(Y/N/N) hurry it up! We need to beat traffic, we need to be there first!”

Bucky chuckled, “It’s also like this in New York, we’re always the last to arrive any gathering.” she glared at her boyfriend playfully setting her curler down to slap his thigh.

“Five minutes!” her mother turned on her heels exiting her daughter’s old bedroom, she stuck her tongue out at her boyfriend “You were suppose to disagree.” he grabbed your forearm tugging you between his legs, “Not when it’s true.” she stuck her tongue out again trying to move away from his legs. Placing both hands on her cheeks he squished it lightly pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” he moved his hands to her waist capturing her lips, she placed her hand on his chest pushing back slightly to break the kiss. She waved her pointer finger from side to side, “Hm, now we both know you’re the reason why we’re always late.” He smirked lightly hoping on the counter slapping her ass with his metal arm playfully, watching as her mouth fell into an “O”.

“C’mon (Y/N/N) we don’t wanna be late.”

On their way to the ceremony (Y/N) and Bucky took the backseat while her mother and father took the front, every so often her mother would look into the review mirror noticing the two were fast asleep. Bucky had reclined the seat a little to allow her to rest her head on his chest, their entwined hands resting on his lap.

She smiled remembering the first time (Y/N) had called and told her about Bucky at first everything she said she thought it was too good to be true. Yet when she finally met him last Christmas, she saw how good he was to her and how much he loved her.

Bucky felt too nervous not wanting to leave your side even though your family welcomed him with open arms- many open arms to the point where you had to pull him away from your aunt Irene.

“I-Okay Aunt Irene, what about me where’s my hug?” you freed Bucky from the hug, awkwardly hugging your aunt who instead wanted to hug your boyfriend “Oh he’s a keeper (Y/N/N), look at that hunk of meat.” you chuckled awkwardly pulling away from the hug to stand next to your “hunk of meat” again.

Bucky slowly began to mingle, talking to your cousins, uncles, your brother and father, and even attempted to play with your niece and nephew. But from time to time he’d go back to your side holding your hand or wrapping his arms around your waist.

That’s when she saw it, usually most of (Y/N)’s cousins husbands/boyfriends would rather talk with the other men about sports and wouldn’t check up on their wives/girlfriends yet- here was Bucky coming back to your side any chance he got.

“Hey sleepyhead, we’re here.”

Your hand reached up to rub your eyes, Bucky caught it before you could ruin your mascara “Your makeup.” he mumbled causing you to blink a few times adjusting to the bright light shining through the window. Bucky opened the car door stepping out first then helping you out allowing you to stretch your muscles.

He lifted his hand to your hair fixing the pieces that looked out of place smoothing it down slightly, it’s the little things like this that made her think you’re for sure gonna marry this man.

“As beautiful as ever.”

(Y/N) smiled tugging at his tie to meet her halfway placing a sweet kiss on his lips, “Thank you, and I must say you look quite handsome as always. I should get you to wear more suits.” intwining your left hand with his right you two walked onto the beach seating next to your parents in the front row on the grooms side.

“Uncle Bucky!”  

The four year old jumped onto Bucky’s lap, “Hey there’s the little princess!” (Y/N) smiled leaning her head onto Bucky’s shoulder, “No hi for your favorite aunt?” the four year old grinned from ear to ear “Hi Aunty (Y/N/N), do you like my dress?” her tiny fingers tugged at the hem of the dress almost the same colors as yours.

“Oh it’s lovely Arya, I must say we have the same taste.” she watched her niece nod moving her attention to play with Bucky, the two whispering and giggling. “He’s gonna be a great dad someday.” your mother whispered loud enough only for you two to hear.

The first time Arya had met Bucky she didn’t want to let you leave with him claiming that Bucky was now her boyfriend, it always made (Y/N) smile anytime Bucky interacted with her niece and nephew. 

Your older brother and his family had recently visited you two last month, an Arya had already planned on spending the day with her Uncle Bucky saying that they had a date but (Y/N) was welcome to join the two. You always knew that Bucky would be a great dad, but that day confirmed you were willing to have a whole football team. 

“Yeah, he’s gonna be the best.”

Arya hopped off his lap moving to go meet her mother so she could toss the flowers down the aisle.

Entwining her left hand with his right she gave it a little squeeze, Bucky lifted their hands kissing the back of her hand “Something wrong?” (Y/N) shook her head placing their hands onto her lap. 

“No-” she brushed her thumb against the back of his hand “I love you.” Bucky leaned forward kissing his beautiful girlfriend.

“I love you too.”

Moments like this.

After the ceremony came the reception, your feet were killing you in these heels Natasha and Wanda basically pressured you into purchasing. You were eager to sit after standing for many photos, you sighed in relief wanting to undo the straps and go barefoot for the rest of the night.

Bucky too his seat next to you moving his chair a few inches away from you, “Why are you so f-” he lifted both your legs placing your feet onto his lap unstrapping the buckle of your heels before slipping it off.

Slumping against the door she let out a loud sigh, dropping her bag and kicking her heels off. It was another long day at work an all she wanted was to be in the arms of her boyfriend. “Hey doll! In the kitchen!” she padded over to the kitchen smiling at the sight in front of her, she sat on one of their bar stools.

“Hm- I can get use to this.” 

Bucky turned around pointing his index finger at the apron, “Kiss the cook.” you snickered you had gotten that for him as a joke at first after he had complained about the oil splashing and staining his shirts.

“My feet are in too much pain to walk.”

He walked over seating in the free seat next to you grabbing your legs to place onto his thighs, you leaned forward kissing his plump pink lips the taste of red wine lingered on his lips causing you to hum. A low groan left your lips the moment he began to massage your feet.

“Oh I love you so much I hope you know that.” he gave her a cheeky smile both his hands massaging your slightly swollen ankles, no more heels for a long while.

Before dinner was served Bucky excused himself to the bathroom, that was nearly fifteen minutes ago. Excusing herself she wandered the halls searching for her boyfriend, “Aunty (Y/N/N)! Can you help me? I think I dropped Shanna!” Shanna was the name of her plush doll Bucky had given her before she had gone back to California, your brother would send pictures of Arya with the doll. She brought it everywhere. 

The sun was beginning to set which would make it quite easy to find her doll, the four year old dragged her aunt towards the exit ushering her to pick up the pace. 

“Arya- bub can we slow down? Let me remo-” 

“I got it!” she waved the plush in the air, dusting the sand off before giving it a big hug. (Y/N) sighed, “That was easier than I thought.” Arya skipped towards her aunt stopping right in front of her “Last one back is a rotten egg.” turning on her heels she nearly ran into Bucky.

“Hi.” 

The golden sun kissed his skin, he truly looked like a god standing there. (Y/N) walked towards him wrapping her arms around his neck, “I’ve been looking for you.” A cool sea breeze kissed their skin, she fluttered her eyes shut enjoying the moment “We need to visit more often.” she looked up at Bucky resting her chin against his chest. They stood there for a few more minutes savoring the moment, the only sound of the waves washing ashore echoing through the quiet beach.

“C’mon lets head in.” 

She pulled away from Bucky tilting her head to the side noticing her family was standing at the entrance, “Oh- they must be wai-” her eyes widened as she watched her boyfriend get down on knee. 

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), it has been an amazing four years knowing you. You’re not only my girlfriend but my best friend. I can’t believe it took me nearly three years to ask you out, three years! I owe thanks to Sam everyday for introducing me to you, don’t let him know I said that-”

(Y/N) giggled ignoring the tears staining her cheeks, she could care less if her makeup was running.

“I’ve been planning this for the last four months, I want to thank your parents for giving me their blessing to do this. Four months into our relationship, I knew I was going to ask you to marry me one day and well now here we are. Also- your brother doesn’t mind that we’re kinda stealing his spotlight.”

“There better be an open bar at the wedding!” your brother shouted lifting his glass of champagne.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you creating beautiful unforgettable memories. With that being said-”

Arya rushed over holding out a red velvet box, “Will you-” before he could even open the box she tackled him into a hug. “Yes! A million times left!” she cupped his cheeks kissing her fiancé. He pulled away briefly opening the box to reveal a beautiful emerald cut ring, slipping it onto her ring finger.

“I love you.” 

She kissed him once more pressing her forehead against his.

“I love you too.”

[waywardimpalawriter]

Hi love! Can I get Smut prompt 126 with Bucky Barnes? I love James 🥵

Well hello doll, wow I’m very honored to have you send in this prompt and a little nervous lol. I agree with ya there James is so yummy and fun to write for to. I hope you like it hun.

Smut prompt #126 “You don’t have to be gentle with me, I don’t break easily.” (In bold)

NSFW +18 no minor’s please

Warnings = smut, unprotected sex (wrap if your gonna tap)

James, “Bucky” Barnes x Plus size reader

Okay so this got a way from me and is longer than I intended it to be lol (sorry, not sorry)

Smut Prompt list here

Three months that’s how long you’ve been dating, you haven’t pushed to much. Knowing this whole relationship thing hasn’t come back to him yet. Uncertain how to brooch the subject without it becoming weird. You didn’t want to scare him off that should’ve already happened given the fact that your not a size two. But Bucky chose you over everyone else he could’ve dated. Treating you like a china doll, gentle, fragile four words that make you growl low. Spitting curses under your breath while heading back to your apartment. Having seen the smirk on Nat’s face knowing better than to have spoken to her about the problem. Only getting a smile ‘Talk to him Y/N’ making you roll your eyes and stock out.

Nearing your door, placing a hand on the cool wood body thumping with need from watching Bucky and Steve work out. The play of muscles on that man’s back, his delicious arm flexing and the veins in his human arm Gods don’t even get you started. Seeing the way his black t-shirt clung to his form, ass hugging sweat pants that had you rolling. You wanted to jump his bones right then but turned and left missing the confused look in the cerulean eyes. Having caught the sight of you entering, he misses the next punch that lands him on his ass with a deep chuckle from Steve.

“Should’ve been paying attention Buck instead of watching Y/N’s ass,” extending his hand to help Bucky up getting a groan vibrating from the other man’s chest.

“Fuck you Punk,” getting to his feet and moving to grab up the towel, wiping the sweat from his brow. His focus being shit for the last few days, his thoughts straying to you.

Shaking his sandy blonde head, “Go, we ain���t gonna get anything else done today with your brain focused on her.”

“Little brain don’t you mean Steve,” gruff laughter echoing through the gym as Sam comes over, mirth dancing in those deep ochre eyes. “What’s the matter Buck you can’t satisfy my girl anymore?”

Fire dancing as his eyes landing on the Falcon who keeps the smirk spread across his lips. Knowing he’s hit or so he thinks, a little to close to home. “She ain’t your girl Wilson leave off,” heading for the door determined to find out just why you’ve been ducking him for the last several days.

Which brings us back to you leaning against your door eyes closed tightly memories cycling through your mind of all the times you and Bucky made love. Soft whimpers leaving your lips chased by a heavy dose of frustration and need. Hand slamming palm flat against the door, you didn’t want to worry Bucky but you needed more, wanted more. You also knew the way you’ve handled the situation isn’t the best especially when you hear a throat clear behind you.

Tensing up, forehead still resting against the door that you turn to see Bucky, tight black t-shirt clinging to that scalped chest. Sweat beading along his forehead to slide down his cheek lower to tip toe the lovely expanse of his neck you want to place your lips against. Swallowing you straighten and turn to face him, “Hey Buck what brings you by?”

“We need to talk,” voice flat, keeping his emotions closed off so he doesn’t show you how worried he truly is.

Nodding, reaching for the door handle as Bucky nears unconsciously pressing his chest against your back. The contact makes you stiffen and try to stifle a moan with having him so close. Hand shaking so that you barely can get it pulled down and pushed open. Knowing you needed a clear head for this talk yet how can you when Bucky is looking like a fucking status come to life. You’re all but drooling when you turn to face him and that lethal stance he’s taken up. Arms crossed over his chest making his muscles look ever bigger, one leg stepped to the side while the other remains straight. He’s such a fucking tease to you but totally unaware of the effects he causes you.  

“Fuck no one should look that sexy,” thinking you’ve said the words to yourself but the rambling groan from the man opposite you tells a different story. Swallowing you eyes raise to catch his, this time you can see the heat and desire coloring those lovely eyes pitch.

Stepping towards you, hands fisting at his side the soft whirl of his vibranium plate’s the only sound besides the deep breathing of you both. “If that’s what you think doll then way have you been ducking me?”

Chewing your bottom lip, arms crossing just under your heavy breasts pushing them up. Gaining his attention and the slow slide of his tongue over his lips. Mesmerized by the sight no words form in your mind till that smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. Snapping you from the stupor you found yourself in for a moment.

“I haven’t been ducking you Buck,” to prove his point you turn to head towards the little kitchenette for a bottle of water. Finding yourself thirsty but for more than water. Parched to the point you maybe ready to beg the man who you turned your back on to just take you right here.

Something you knew better than to do with his light footsteps he’s behind you again, pressing his chest against your back. Hands on either side on the fridge, sandwiching you in with his super solider body. Regretting choosing the thin workout shorts and tank top, feeling the heat radiate from him making you pant with need.

“Don’t believe you baby girl, you did it just now,” voice smooth as silk against your ear. Minty breath fanning over the shell with his cheek pressed lightly against your head. Taking in the soft scent of your hair and skin the scent shooting straight to his harden cock making him throb with need.

Knowing all you have to do is turn and his lips would be on yours in a hot second. You hold out trying to form some kind of coherent thought which is almost fucking impossible with Bucky pressing into you. “I didn’t,” bitting your bottom lip to keep the whine from leaving you lips. Feeling the cool metal of his fingers slide down your bare shoulder to wrap lightly around your wrist. That’s when you snap turning quickly in his embrace, fire snapping in your eyes that makes him pause and take a step back.

“Y/N?” confusion making the pupil retract just as his body does. “Did I do something…”

Growling in frustration to slap at his chest, “Yes you did that’s the problem Barnes, you’ve done it to fucking well in fact.” Watching him recoil a step, makes your eyes close to reign yourself in. “Why do you have to be so damn gentlemanly? Treating me like a fucking piece of glass.”

“Y/N I’m not following you,” even more confused than before yet its mixed with desire. That coats his veins, making his cock twitch at your aggressiveness. Trying to bring. himself under control, not wanting to hurt or scare you.

“Ugh,” tossing your hands up, slapping his chest again. “You don’t have to be gentle with me, I don’t break easily James.” Praying he get’s what your meaning seeing his brow dip makes you angry and you step forward roughly pulling him against you. Crashing your lips into his, nipping at the plush bottom lip demanding entry. When he remains unmovable your heart sinks and you pull back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” words whispered from tingling lips, body stiff against the island, hands balled tight to keep from roughly pulling you back to him.

Rolling your eyes to look up at him, soft gasp parting your lips at the return of those lust blown black eyes. “You won’t James I know you won’t but sometimes…” sighing shaking your head then look away taking a step.  

“Sometimes what?” vibranuim hand shooting out to grab your bicep to keep you from bolting. “What do you need Y/N tell me.” Gods his voice is deep and gravelly, it takes all your power to keep from flinging yourself back into his arms and demand he fuck you now. Thick thighs rubbing together with one simple possessive hold on your body.

Stealing yourself to look up at him, “I need you to fuck me Sergeant, I need no want to feel you tomorrow when I’m working remembering the way you made me feel the way you took me.” Swallowing harshly hoping you’ve gotten through to him.

“Strip,” single word leaves his lips, eyes flashing dangerously as he pulls you back against him. Hands one cool, the other warm grip your shoulders. “If you want those clothes you’ll take them off doll because God knows I won’t be able to keep from ripping them off your fucking body.”

A shutter licks down your spine at his tone, heat pooling in your core, watching for a moment the tick in his jaw. Hypnotized by the slow bob of his Adams apple that you don’t heed his warning till the sound of fabric ripping meets your ears and your chest is partly bare to his gaze.

“James,” soft gasp leaving your lips, eyes darting between him and your own body. Watching as his vibranium fingers trace between your the soft swells of your breasts setting your skin on fire with the simple touch, coming to pause between the generous globes. Catching the edges of your black bra, ripping the fabric pulling it from your body to join your ruined tank top. As another gasp is wrenched from your lips this time with a tiny squawk of anger. “You’ll pay for those Barnes,” finally breaking from the lustful haze. Wanting to be angry but finding it hard to maintain the heat behind your words with how his touch is firing off tingles and shivers up and down your body.

Full blown smirk crosses his lips, “I warned you sweetheart,” glancing down to catch how your body moves, knowing from the subtle rub your needing release. “About those shorts and panties which I’m betting are soaked right now. Am I right doll? You know I can smell you right, know when your aroused,” brow lifting when no words meet his ears. He takes a step forward you take one back body bumping against the cold refrigerator door. Some how his voice drops another octave as he leans forward caging you in, mouth dangerously close to your ear. “You forgot to say please by the way doll, remember your manners.”

Watching him pull back to capture your gaze, teeth making an indentation in your bottom lip. He groans capturing your mouth with no gentleness. Demandingly thrusting his hot tongue into your mouth, licking into the warm cavern, to tango with your tongue in a dance that leaves you both gasping. His forehead resting against yours when he breaks.  Breathlessly, “Please James fuck me, make me feel it tomorrow, please.”

Deep groan leaves his lip and before you can do anything he’s tossed you over his shoulder, slapping your ass hard enough you know a bruise will be there tomorrow. Only serving to make you squirm in his hold, feeling your clit throb, a moan at being manhandled leaves your lips. Long strides eat up the steps to your shared bed that his tosses you on. Watching you bounce, nipples peaked in the air condition cooled room. Licking his lips, he places one knee on the bed looking the part of a wild man stalking his prey as you move u p the bed to the top. Knowing he has you in his sights, making your body hum with need and reach down to tug your shorts and panties off. Tossing them to the floor, watching his shirt join and shortly after by his tented sweatpants and boxer briefs. Staring for a moment as his thick cock juts from his groin, little pearl drops begging to be licked up sit perfectly on the slit. Til his hand wraps around coating his palm and sliding down the shaft. Desire flaring in his eyes while he watches you watch him. Deep growl rambling from his chest as you tease him.

Spreading your thick thighs for him, fingers tracing your body all sense of modesty nonexistent with the heated look he’s giving you. Plucking your nipples, giving them both a hard pinch that makes your back arch a needy gasp leaving you. Air sucked in through your nose, exiting from your mouth his name riding along on a breathless whimper. “James,” and he’s there slotting between your thighs, one hand wrapped around his shaft stroking twice before running the tip through your folds before slotting at your entrance and start to slide inside you.

Smirking when a huff leaves your lip only to turn into a gasp when he fills you quickly, seating himself deep between your quivering walls. Mouth coming to ghost over your ear, “Hang on doll it’s gonna be a rough hard ride.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

pretty toes ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1741

request?: yes!

@gar-goyle “Can you write a fluffy smut about machine gun Kelly’s foot fetish and the reader?”

description: something as innocent as going barefoot in your house results in sweet words and love making

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

(fair warning, i personally am not a fan of feet, so this imagine isn’t gonna focus too much on feet)

It was a rare event when Colson had more than a day off at a time. After releasing Tickets to my Downfall, Colson decided he wanted to take a lot of time off of work to focus on spending time with you and with Casie. The album had taken up so much of his time and energy that he rarely got to see his two favorite girls, and when he was able to see you two, he was usually drained.

On a night that you two actually had to yourselves, Colson suggested a relaxing night in watching movies. After a long week of work, you couldn’t have agreed more to anything that included the word “relaxing”.

You were both sat on the couch; Colson on one end, you on the other. You had your legs stretched out to be rested on his lap. You were in a pair of pajama pants and one of Colson’s shirts, so you had your socks off, leaving you barefoot.

At some point during the movie you were watching, Colson began running his fingers up and down your leg, spending a little extra time grazing over your feet. Eventually, he gave up pretending and just put both warm hands on your cold feet, beginning to give them a massage as he did so.

“Am I turning you on?” you teased, using the foot he wasn’t massaging to playfully kick him.

You knew all about Colson’s...love for feet, so to speak. You thought it was a joke at first, but soon came to learn that it was anything but. Colson had a thing for feet and, while it was still something you were getting used to, you couldn’t deny that you liked how much attention Colson would give your feet sometimes. Like in that moment, where he continued to massage your feet despite your teasing.

A small smile came across his face. “Of course you are. You and these pretty toes.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “They’re literally just on your lap. We’re just watching a movie. You’re being overdramatic.”

“How am I being overdramatic when you’re sat here looking like a fucking goddess?”

You shook your head at him. “I’m sat here in pajamas with my feet on your lap. I’m hardly a goddess. You’re just looking to get your dick wet so you’re trying to butter me up first.”

He chuckled at this, but your dirty words must’ve gotten to him as you could feel his bulge growing against your feet. He moved your feet so they were resting on the couch and knelt in front of you. You raised an eyebrow at him, feeling excited to see where this would be going.

“You are a goddess, no matter what you’re wearing,” he told you. “But especially when you’re wearing nothing.”

You giggled as his hands started trailing up your legs, stopping at the hem of your pajama pants. He looked up at you, waiting. You raised your hips so he could pull them down your legs and discard them somewhere on the living room floor. He ran his hands up and down your bare legs before lowering himself towards your feet again.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met,” he said. His warm breath brushed against your bare skin, causing you to shiver. “Even when you’re not trying. Especially when you’re not trying. You just radiate this natural beauty.”

He started kissing up your legs, giving both of them the same amount of attention each as he trailed his way up towards where you were starting to want him most. Your body was practically vibrating with anticipation.

As he got higher up, his hands slipped under the shirt you were wearing and lightly traced your bare skin. A moan slipped from your lips as his hands ran over your breasts, pausing for a moment to give your nipples a slight pinch.

He was teasing you. His mouth was kissing around your already soaking panties, but he wasn’t kissing the area you wanted most. You ran your fingers through his hair before trying to place him where you wanted him most. He looked up at you, mischief in his eyes, as he kept resisting and just kissed your thighs and stomach instead.

“You’re mean,” you said with a pout. “I wasn’t intentionally teasing you, you just decided I was.”

“You have a point,” he said. “I was just calling you a goddess, and now I’m teasing you for no reason. What kind of monster am I for doing that?”

Before you could respond, he quickly kissed your clothed clit, causing you to gasp. He smirked at you, and in one quick movement, he had pulled your panties down your legs. You repositioned yourself so he could comfortably lay between your legs.

The feeling of his tongue against you was like heaven. Your eyes immediately rolled into the back of your head in ecstasy. You grabbed at Colson’s hair, taking a handful of it and pushing his head slightly, trying to get him to go deeper.

His strokes were long and slow, sending a shiver up your spine every time his tongue connected with you. He was treating you like the goddess he kept saying you were, and you definitely weren’t complaining.

You whimpered as he pulled away. You tried to pull him back again, but he untangled your hand from his hair and kissed your stomach. Realizing what he was getting at, you pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. You lowered your body to be laying down on the couch as he began to kiss up your stomach. He took your breasts in his mouth one at a time, giving them extra attention. You were starting to become needy and desperate to feel him inside of you, but you were enjoying the praise too.

His lips finally reached yours and he kissed you gently. He rested his body on top of yours and you could feel his bulge pressing against you through his sweatpants. You hands ran down his back and pulled at the hem of his pants. He smiled down at you as he sat up long enough to pull them off. His boner popped free and you felt a growing wetness between your legs.

He pumped himself a few times before he leaned down to kiss you again. You gasped as you felt him push himself into you, slowly filling you up. When he had pushed completely inside of you, he laid down on top of you again, his arms resting on either side of your head so he could keep himself up.

It had been a while since the two of you were able to have slow, passionate sex. With Colson’s busy schedule, or with Casie always looming around the corner, the sex that you had was usually rough and quick. You were always trying to finish fast, and you wouldn’t complain about that, but you did miss being able to just hold Colson close and to be able to take your time.

He lowered his head to yours and kissed you gently. He lightly traced your cheek with one hand as he pushed himself deep inside of you, then pulled out almost all the way and pushed himself back in again. He repeated the pattern over and over, driving you wild with his slow trusts.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed in your ear as he started to kiss down your jawline and neck. “The most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

You tried to say something back, but it was cut off with another moan as Colson’s hips met yours. He chuckled at your attempted response and began to suck on the sweet spot on your neck that he knew all too well on how to find.

His slow thrusts were driving you wild. Your body was beginning to shake as you started to near your climax. Your nails were clawing at Colson’s back, surely leaving marks that you currently didn’t care about.

“Are you close, princess?” he asked. You nodded in response. His teeth nipped at your ear as he told you, “Let me feel you cum around my cock.”

The words alone were enough to drive you over the edge. Your eyes rolled back as you felt your climax hit hard. You called out Colson’s name in pleasure as he pushed himself deep inside of you, wanting to feel you cum on every inch of his hard cock.

When you had finally rode out yours, Colson began to thrust again. This time, they were fast and hard, causing you to let out screams of pleasure that echoed back to you in the empty house. You heard him grunt once before feeling him twitch inside you, followed by him filling you up as he hit his own climax.

You stayed tangled together for some time. Your vision was so clouded with lust that you felt like you could barley see anything. Colson was placing sweet kisses on your neck again as he came down from his own high. When you both felt like you were able to, Colson pushed himself off of you and got up from the couch. He passed you your clothes as you both began to dress again.

“That was...intense,” you commented, finally finding your voice again.

“In a good way?” Colson asked.

You giggled. “Of course in a good way. I don’t think there’s a bad way for sex to be intense.”

Colson chuckled as well. “You have a point. I just wanted you to know how much I love you and that I do think you’re a goddess, in all aspects of the word.”

“You tell me those things all the time,” you reminded him. “Although if your reminders are like that, I will take them whenever.”

He chuckled again before sitting next to you on the couch. You turned off the movie the two of you had completely forgotten about and decided to watch an episode of your favorite show together. You cuddled into Colson’s side and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll also walk around barefoot more often if it gets me those kinds of reminders,” you told him, looking down at your bare feet.

“Definitely won’t complain about seeing those pretty toes more often,” Colson agreed. You smiled up at him before settling into his side again.

I’m sorry it doesn’t actually focus much on his foot fetish at all :/ I hope you still liked it though!

[wastedyouth-wasteddreams]

@crazy105 - Viktor Vektor

She pressed her palm against his wrist and wrapped each finger around the underside of his arm. Sinking her fingertips into him for a reassuring squeeze, and releasing a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She could hear the hissing of the valve tucked under the monitor to her right. She could feel a soft dry breeze, just cooler than the air, that was brushing against her thigh, but she had no idea where it was coming from. She felt so vulnerable in these situations. Lay back, and practically sinking into the wide leather of the chair. It felt like it was trying to hold her, or restrain her, she couldn’t quite tell which it felt like more.

The warm metal smell in the air was one that she had come to associate with comfort when the telltale scent of sandalwood was also lingering. The sandalwood, coming directly from her left where a tall and imposing figure stood over her. From this angle he looked as wide as he was tall, his features completely shadowed by the surgical lights above him, but she could still see the Lense of his heavy glasses reflecting red as he checked over the monitors across her. A couple of satisfied grunts passed his lips as he traced the readings on screen with a gloved knuckle of his left hand.

His right arm had remained completely still since she wrapped herself around him as thoroughly as possible using the only body part she had available. He always had impeccable bedside manor she thought to herself. 

He looked to her as she lay in his chair, body tense, stare firmly fixed on the ceiling, her toes flexing toward the wall, then alternating back to the lights in nervous tension. This was not the girl that Night City knew. In fact, sometimes he got the feeling that he was the only person who got to see this side of her at all.

Her eyelids fell soft as she pursed her bottom lip up and let out another heavy breath. Her grasp on him eased and he could feel a slight tremble. He was relieved that she had loosened her fingers, as he was starting to get a little numb, but he felt an over whelming desire to comfort her when he realized the trembling was coming from her fingertips. That was new. 

“are you gonna need that arm for this?”

she could hear the smile in his voice, even though her closed eyes.

A tickle of rouge spread lightly from her temples across the top of both cheeks as her hand pulled away from him. Her head tipping back with raised eyebrows she opened her eyes, and found her gaze resting on his glasses.  He guessed her eyes had adjusted to the light, as she was fixed directly to his stare , but he hoped she wasn’t able to see the smile that had appeared out of nowhere when she blushed. That was new too. Trembling fingers, red cheeks, it was as if she was flustered.

She could feel the heat burning on her cheek bones, and she realized she had reached a new point of vulnerability in this chair. There was an unspoked rule between them that her vulnerable side never be spoken of, and knowing that she was possibly going to come off as a softie today, she had brought a bottle of his favorite whisky, to bribe him to silence. 

“lights out, kid”

She noticed a calm and softness to his voice as she felt herself drifting away. In the blackened fuzz of coming to, one side of a conversation came into hearing slowly. At first it was just a rumbled murmur, with tone inflections. She drifted again, only when she started to come to this time she caught the end of the conversation.

“well its an explanation at least”

His groaning sigh turned into a slight chuckle.

“Preem. I think she’s waking up anyhow. We’ll see you then” vik talked at the holo, and began to look over to his patient.

He walked over to her holding a chart with numbers rapidly passing back and forth. He sat next to her on his swivel chair, resting his elbows on his knees and adjusted her chair to a more upright position, removing the glare from the lights.

“So misty and Jack are heading to pick up his new chips for poker night. Apparently he bought some kind of collector set, shouldn’t be too late.”

Vik could be heard clearly now at least, even if it sounded like he was talking through a metal box.

“late?” she replied with a perplexed frown.

“ how long was I out for? I thought poker was at 9.30 tonight?”

“yea…we need to have a talk Kid”

he sat up straight and peered over the black frames that were sat a little lower on his face than usual. His eyes were a deep cyan, but with the red lenses from his glasses, they mainly looked a gray purple. It was only like this, with his eyebrows raised, and tilting toward her, that she had ever seen their true colour. Made the bollocking she was aware she was about to receive a little easier.

“firstly all of your monowire should be working smoothly now. And for the record, I was right.”

he nodded at her as if it were some kind of secret sign language for I told you so.

“ You just dislodged the casing from the inner threading, that’s why you thought your radius was twisting out in the first place” he continued.

Then there was a silence. Suddenly the noise of the machines and hum of generators became clear. He paused for a second to think of the best way to approach the subject.

“I had to scan all the way to your elbow for the calibrations you know” the inflections made itr sound more like a question than a statement.

“Vik, come on now. I have to prioritize my upgrades.” She sat up and interjected.

She knew where this was going, and it was about to become a speech. The speech about how she has to listen to her body if she expects it to live in harmony with her tech. He would explain how the extra attention means better usage. The speech would end with a reminder that he will always have an open line of credit when she needs it. To be honest it just wasn’t bad enough to come hassle Vik. Some of her joints were feeling a grind, but that happens, and eventually you just get them replaced. It didn’t seem worth the eddies and time, to spend over 5 hours in a chair just for a little ‘tune up’ that would cost, funnily enough, about the same amount as a retrofit arm and leg. She also hated going under, but didn’t like to discuss that even with herself.

She swung her leg over so her knees were facing him, and tucked them together between her hands as she leaned on the side of the chair.

He knew the speech that he was supposed to say, but he stopped himself, and spoke to her with his own vulnerability on show. He sat up and took his glasses off resting his hands on his knees. She had never seen him without his glasses on, but she realized he was about to say something that demanded she really listen.

“You know, I don’t want you coming in for the extra eddies.”

He pulled himself forward and closed the half metre gap between them. His inner knees just brushed the outside of hers as he jolted to a stop. He looked down to her knees, they looked like two tiny birds nestled together, between his dirty work pants and callused hands.

“I want you coming in because the idea of you being in pain, well. Its one of the few things that keeps me up at nights.”

She felt a sensation on her cheeks again. But instead of it burning, it felt cool. Her eyes were slowly swelling with tears and she felt a hollow lump building in her throat.

He kept his head down as he squeezed her knees inside his for a couple of seconds, he could feel her feet lifting from the ground as he tried to convey his affection using only this one gesture. His legs were so warm, and she could feel the material of her jeans coarsely tracing where their skin could have been touching. 

“Vik?” she started a sentence that she couldn’t carry.

She didn’t know what to say, and he could tell. His name came from her mouth as a whisper of air. Not wanting to be heard, but needing to be felt. 

“This is my job, Kid. And that wasn’t a normal amount of joint grind, I found corrosion in your right elbow and both your Tibia.” He offered,as a closing to her sentance.

He felt her rolling both her ankles as her eyes slowly tried to find somewhere to stare sheepishly.

“you can’t go around so reckless when I care about you….”

He put his glasses back on, and was suddenly the Dr again. He cleared his throat as he took under her chin with his index finger and raised her face until their eyes locked. She was timid looking, and her brows furrowed with a mix of confusion and shock. He gently pushed down her cheek with his thumb, which allowed the small pool of tears to race down the side of her face.

“Well…when people care about you”

He gave a nod of approval after checking her eyes. Her stomach felt like rows of velvet curtains, with a migration of butterflies flowing through. The tear that tucked under jaw was warm as it began to reach her neck, and started to feel unnaturally heavy.

“thanks for fixing me” he heard her whisper, in a slightly broken voice.

She watched her toes as she flexed and rolled her feet smoothly as when her leg implants were new.

He stood up next to her, and the reality hit him so hard, it felt like he had just taken a shot to the chest. He hadn’t allowed himself to realize what was happening, but she was slowly becoming a very important part of his life. He was thankful jackie told him to check her joints when he popped in earlier, because she obviously wasn’t going to tell him about the pain until she had to get them replaced. It actually hurt when he saw the damage, and thought about her coming in for the past month, without even a single mention. Did she think he didn’t have the time for her? Was she embarrassed about it? Maybe the eddies were too tight? It didn’t matter now. She fixed up, and he hoped the honest chat may bring her to her senses.

She jumped onto her feet to test the impact on her ankles, and he saw her lips turn up to a giddy smile.  He tucked her shoulder under his, as reached his hand around past her back to clasp the top of her arm. He pulled her into a side bear hug with a chuckle, and her head rested softly on his chest.  

“now” his voice bellowed with confidence as he pointed toward his desk 

“This whisky is the first installment of your payment Kid. Misty set up your credit earlier, but take your time. I don’t mind how many visits it takes”

[fruitcoops]

Blink In Sight

Part 2 of the Coops smut series, ft some Cap loving as requested! Credit for Coops/ Sweater Weather goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for blowjobs and more mid-sex laughter

Contrary to popular opinion, the kitchen was Remus’ favorite room in the house. It wasn’t even a room, technically—one little island separated it from the adjoining entryway and an empty doorway led to the main hall. The island was the perfect height for him to sit on and drown in kisses from his fiancé, too, which was just an added bonus.

“Are the sandwiches almost ready?” Sirius muttered against his mouth.

Remus leaned to the side to look over his shoulder at the stove and squinted in the light from the hanging bulbs after having his eyes closed for so long. Small wisps of steam curled around the pan’s lid. “Probably. You want to check?”

Sirius heaved a heavy sigh, but released his waist and grabbed the spatula from the countertop. He made a pleased noise when he flipped the sandwiches and Remus smiled to himself; he loved the little moments like this, sitting in a quiet kitchen together. “Ta-da!” Sirius presented the sandwiches with a flourish and nearly tipped them right out of the greased pan. “Oh, shit!”

“Do we need plates?” Remus asked even as he carefully took one out with his bare fingers. The buttered bread was hot, but he was brutally hungry and practically inhaled it. Between winning their game, the accompanying adrenaline rush, and (in James’ eloquent words) getting railed by his fiancé, it was a miracle he had lasted this long without food. “I love you.”

“Because I make grilled cheese?” Sirius asked around half a sandwich. When Remus nodded, he pumped his fist. ”Nailed it.”

“This might be the only thing you can cook, but it’s so fucking good. Can you make another one?”

“We’re out of bread.”

Remus’ shoulders slumped and he hopped down off the counter, wincing slightly at the dull ache in his legs. He had to start doing more squats for a variety of reasons, and tonight had only proved that. The blast of cold air from the fridge made him shiver as he sifted through Tupperware containers from previous dinners. “We’ve got leftover lasagna, some of my mom’s cake, and there might be some canned soup in the cupboards.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, I’m not really in the mood to cook.” Remus grabbed the lasagna pan and stuck it in the microwave while Sirius took two forks out of the drawer. “My lower back is killing me.”

“I must confess, I still believe,” Sirius sang under his breath. “Still buh-lieve.”

He turned to him with a wide smile. “When I’m not with you I lose my mind, give me a sign!”

“Hit me baby one more time!” they both shouted at the top of their lungs. I love you, Remus thought as the microwave pinged and Sirius took the pan out. I love you wildly. Do you know that?

“Sirius?”

“…yes?” Sirius looked mildly concerned at the sound of his actual name. Remus drummed his fingers on his hipbones and pressed him against the kitchen island, kissing him deeply for a few hertbeats. “Is that a request for round two?” He looked a little dazed—Remus kissed him once more, chaste and quick.

“Nope. I just love you a lot.” His mouth tasted like coconut and honey. “Are you wearing chapstick?”

“Uh-huh. Lips were dry from the cold air.” Sirius took another two seconds to collect himself before passing Remus a fork and scooting over to make room for him. “Tonight is supposed to be celebrating you, you know.”

“It is.” Remus knocked their hips together lightly. “Making you feel good makes me feel good, plus there’s the fact that you also scored two goals and led the team to victory, oh great captain of mine.”

The corners of Sirius’ eyes crinkled as he stuck a forkful of lasagna in his mouth. “Playing hockey with you might be my favorite thing ever, but this is a close second.”

“What, eating lasagna straight from the pan like responsible adults?”

“Yup. It’s so normal.”

Remus thought for a moment, tapping the base of his fork against his lips. Sirius was right—they did not lead very normal lives at all, and being able to come home after playing sports in front of thousands of people cheering their names was refreshing to say the least. “Yeah, it is. I like being normal with you.”

“I like being normal with you, too.”

They ate in comfortable silence, bumping elbows, shoulders, or forks every once in a while. It had been over a month since their engagement and Remus still felt his stomach flip every time Sirius’ ring caught the light just so. They had been through hell and back together, and he was looking forward to many, many more years of well-deserved peace. “We should start decorating for the holidays soon,” Remus mused.

“I don’t have any decorations.”

“Really?”

A faint pink flush spread across Sirius’ cheeks, and it wasn’t the sexy kind. “I didn’t really have anyone to put them up with before, so I just…never saw the point.”

Sometimes, Remus made the mistake of forgetting just how alone Sirius had been, and it always hit him like a Mac truck whenever a reminder popped up. “Well,” he said around the tightness in his throat. “We’re changing that. We’ll pick up a tree and I’ll teach you to make Christmas cookies and we’re getting some stockings for the mantle.”

“You want to do that?”

Remus set his fork down and nudged him gently with his shoulder. “As long as you do.”

“Could we invite your parents and Jules over for Christmas?” Sirius asked.

“I bet they’d love that.” Something caught his eye and he craned his neck to see further around the corner. “Is that…my shirt? Over there by the front door.”

“What?” Sirius’ deeply thoughtful look vanished and he followed Remus’ sightline, letting out a delighted laugh. “It is! Merde, that means mine is definitely still on the stairs.”

“Do we clean now or later?” Remus looked down at the empty lasagna pan and frowned. “I don’t really want to do the dishes.”

“Well…”

“Wait until tomorrow?”

“Wait until tomorrow.”

“Living room?”

“Living room!” Sirius grinned and Remus backed him down the hall, both of them stumbling a little over their own feet in the darkness. They had had the foresight to put away all the clean laundry, so there was plenty of free space for Remus to push him down into the couch and slide his fingers beneath the band of his sweatpants as he straddled him. When he leaned back to catch his breath, Sirius’ smile turned devious.

“What?”

“How’re your thighs doing?”

“My wh—Sirius.” Remus smacked him on the arm.

“Should we switch?”

“Oh, my god!”

“Can you stand up?”

“One time. One time and you’re giving me grief for it.”

“Are you sure you’re—” Sirius broke off into giggles as Remus began tickling his sides mercilessly. “I’m sorry!” he gasped. “I’m sorry, I take it back!”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

Remus crossed his arms and looked down at Sirius. “Hmm.”

Hope lit up his face. “Round two?”

“The puppy eyes are impossible to deny,” Remus said wryly as he made his way down Sirius’ body and plucked at his sweatpants.

“Re—”

“Do you want me to?” Remus asked.

“Well, yeah, but this is Loops appreciation night.”

He licked his lips and began pulling Sirius’ sweatpants down his thighs. “I promise I feel very appreciated. Can I please blow you now?”

“Absolutely, but it’s your turn after…” Sirius’ sentence trailed off as Remus pressed a series of openmouthed kisses down his half-hard shaft. “After, uh, this.”

He hummed his agreement and goosebumps broke out along Sirius’ thighs, spreading all the way up his chest and arms as well. Remus took his time; there was no rush, no competition, just pouring out his love for his fiancé in a way that happened to include taking his dick further and further into his mouth.

Strong, calloused dingers threaded into his hair as he sank down and short whimpers spurred him on. Remus swallowed and the hands tightened, which sent a wave of tingling warmth all the way to his toes. “Is that good?” Sirius panted above him. Judging from the fast-twitching muscles in his thigh and the slight strain in his voice, he was doing everything in his power to keep his legs steady for Remus.

“Very good,” Remus said, leaning his cheek against Sirius’ inner thigh and grinning. He rubbed the heels of his hands down Sirius’ legs and traced small circles in the dips of his ankles just the way he liked it, and Sirius arched his back. “Can I try that thing I did the other day?”

“Fuck yes.” Sirius’ answer was carried on the tail end of an incredulous huff and Remus placed a line of quick kisses up his inner thigh before sliding his mouth down over the tip and going until his eyes stung. God, he’s so hard, he thought as Sirius keened and pulled lightly on his hair again. He pressed the back of his tongue underneath the head of Sirius’ dick, making him shudder. “Re—sweetheart, I’m so close, move if you don’t want—”

Remus hollowed his cheeks abruptly and the salty liquid that had been leaking into his mouth was suddenly replaced by thick ropes of come; he swallowed as much as he could and carefully pulled off, stroking Sirius through the aftershocks before pulling his sweatpants up and straddling him once more.

“How are you real?” Sirius wondered aloud as he automatically reached out to smooth his hands from Remus’ hips to his knees. He looked like he had had an epiphany, like an angel had appeared and whispered some long-awaited secret to him. “We were talking about having your parents over for Christmas and then you just fucking…” he trailed off and shook his head as Remus wiped away some spit that had gathered on his lips. “You and your magic mouth.”

“It’s a talent that I can’t put on my resume,” Remus teased as Sirius flipped their positions. “I have to do something with it. Plus, you sound good.”

Vibrant red—the sexy kind, this time—highlighted Sirius’ cheeks and he rested his forehead on Remus’ stomach to hide his smile. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Not yet. Maybe later, if you’re good.”

Sirius looked up and quirked an eyebrow. “Who’s the one with a praise kink, here?”

“You tell me,” Remus shot back playfully. His back muscles relaxed as Sirius ran a firm hand over the bulge in his sweats and he settled one arm over his head to make a little more room for his shoulders. Their couch was fantastic for cozy cuddles, but just slightly too narrow for them to comfortably lay flat without hanging over the edge a little.

His head tilted instinctively as Sirius pressed his mouth to his dick through the fabric, surrounding him in sticky heat that sent zaps of electricity up his spine. “You really are a Lion, aren’t you?” Sirius laughed when he traced Remus’ ribs.

“Hmm?”

“You purr.” Sirius propped himself on his elbows and tapped his sternum. “Right here, when you really get going, you start to hum a little bit. It’s cute.”

“Really?” In the midst of his internal crisis about just how long he had been doing that, Remus’ brain suddenly snapped back to the present as Sirius pressed his tongue to his slit and closed his mouth around the head. “Oh, fuck.”

His calves were settled over Sirius’ shoulders—when did they get there again?—and his eyes fell shut in pleasure before he could get a proper look at Sirius’ face. Unrelenting pressure enveloped his dick on all sides and a clever tongue flickered along the shaft as Sirius sucked him off in sure strokes. Most of his muscles were still sore from the game, but the extra burn was a welcome distraction that kept him from coming the second Sirius’ hand cupped his balls.

“You—you—unh.” Remus’ brain went foggy and he pressed his heels down on Sirius’ shoulder blades, urging him deeper. “Please.”

Sirius moved to hold his thighs down, which was probably for the best considering Remus wasn’t sure he was entirely in control of his limbs at the moment, and pulled off, moving to map out the veins on Remus’ dick with his lips and tongue. He shushed him softly at one point and Remus clenched his jaw around the whines that came out on nearly every breath.

He teetered on the edge for long enough that he only had a half-second of clarity to tap Sirius on the shoulder before he was dissolving into bliss. The sensation around his dick did not diminish until he jolted with sensitivity, and only then did he realize Sirius was peppering his face with small kisses. “Welcome back,” Sirius said, just smug enough that a thrill raced through Remus’ belly. “That was for your first goal.”

“I’ve still got one more to cash in, right?” He kissed him lightly and the salt on both their lips made his heart pound.

“Mhmm. Water first, then bedroom?”

Remus had no idea how he was going to manage another orgasm tonight, but the look in Sirius’ eye as he pulled him off the couch by his hands was plenty of incentive to at least give it a try.

[pinkesthoney]

pink

relationship: Sub!Aaron Hotchner x 1stPOV!Reader

Rating/warnings: NSFW, nudity, masturbation

A/N: not beta’d/edited, so errors are probable : )

Summary: I thought Aar would be home for three days. I thought I’d have plenty on time to pamper him before he was called into a case. I should have known better. I’m sure Aaron will laugh about this….eventually.

So it was Friday and Aaron had just stumbled through the door after a long case that had ended so badly Aaron didn’t want to even talk about it. Jack was asleep, but that wouldn’t stop Aar from giving his boy a kiss on the forehead and sitting with him for a bit. In the meantime, I was getting a bath ready, knowing Aaron needed some extra pampering after this last case. Our relationship was a constant back and forth. Sometimes Aar was my sweet (or not so sweet) daddy, taking care of me in all the right ways. Other times he was my  sweet boy, letting me take care of him. It was unusual but it always balanced out. I could tell tonight was one of the night Aaron needed to give up control and let someone take care of him. Just as the bath was filled and I’d put in some lavender and rosemary, Hotch appeared, leaning against the doorway. I saw him visibly relax inhaling the calming steam. I took a moment to survey him. His shirt was wrinkled, and he’d either slept in it or hadn’t slept at all. His eyes had dark circles under them, leading me to believe it was the latter. His hair was more disheveled than usual, falling into his eyes. I stood from the edge of the tub and went to pull him into a gentle hug. He slumped into me and I braced myself so he could put more of his weight on me. We stood there fro a bit, just enjoying this first moment of connection together. It was what made our time apart bearable. “c’mon pretty boy, let’s get these clothes off you” I murmur into his hair, pulling a little at the hair at the nape of his neck. He grumbled a bit about how he was too tired to move. “I know honey, but you can’t get in the bath with your work clothes on. c’mon” I said, pulling him over to sit on the edge of the bed. The poor baby was so tired he almost fell asleep in the short time it took me to undress him.

When I was finally done and he was naked I handed him his clothes asking him to go put them in the laundry basket. Sleepily he did, meanwhile I striped down too, coming up behind him to drop my clothes in the basket with his. I took the opportunity to loop my arms around his waist and kiss along his shoulders and the top of his spine, loving the soft noises he made as he melted back into me. “c’mon sweet boy, let’s get you in the bath, I purred, slipping his soft velvet collar around his neck, locking it with its little gold-heart lock, and using it to pull him to the bathroom. I sat down in the tub first and pulled him in to sit with his back against my chest. Aar’s eyes slipped shut as I started running the loofah across his skin and working soap into his muscles. His breathing was staring to slow down and he seemed to be drifting in and out of a doze. While I washed him, I nuzzled into his hair and told him everything about what Jack and I had been up to since the last time we were here. Aaron loved hearing about all the boring details; how the grocery store was out of Jack and my favorite flavor of ice cream, the nice older woman and her dog that we met in the park, everything. So I told him everything I could remember as I worked the soap into his back, taking care to work out all the knots I felt there. Aaron’s favorite part was being rinsed off when I would pour water with the cup that was always by the tub. I think it made him feel properly little, like back when he was a child getting baths. With each round of rinsing I could see his shoulders relax further and further. Washing his hair was the hardest from this position. I had him tip his head back and used a washcloth to help keep his eyes dry as I soaked his hair and soaped it up. I spent a while just massaging his scalp and pulling lightly at his hair. The whole time I was telling him how pretty he was, how good he was for me, what a sweet boy he was. I loved seeing the blush creeping up his cheeks and turning his ears pink. As much as I enjoyed when Aaron was my big strong alpha, I wouldn’t trade this for the world. Getting to be the one Aaron was soft and gentle with. It was precious. Eventually, I rinsed out his hair and climbed out of the tub. I pulled on my fluffy robe and grabbed Aaron’s for him, pulling him up out of the tub and wrapping him up in it. Gosh he was so cute like this, cuddled into the fluffy collar of his robe, hair falling in his eyes, cheeks pink. “Ok cutie, go sit on the bed, I’ll pick you out some pajamas.” I say over my shoulder, heading to the closet.

I stopped at his soft voice “can––“ he pauses when I glance at him. Somehow his cheeks got even more pink. “Go ahead, bub” I encouraged him “can I wear some panties, please? and maybe one of your shirts..” his voice was so soft and my heart ached at how sweet he is. “yeah bub, I think we can do that.” I promise him with a smile. I returned dressed in a thin, loose sweatshirt and underwear with his clothes in hand. I had his stand for me so I could dress him, carefully pulling the lace panties up his legs, making sure he was carefully arranged in it so nothing was pinching him or falling out. He looked so pretty like this with his cock covered in pale pink lace. I ran a finger over him, tracing the bulge against the lace and loved the soft whines he made and loved watching him grow, pressing against the lace. He whined a little when I pulled my hand away, so I gave him a little peck on his lips. “arms up please” he raises his hands immediately and I stood on my tip-toes to pull the sleeves over his arms, laughing a little when his head finally popped through the neck hole. His hair was so cute like this, perfectly messy and soft. Aaron loved wearing my shirts–he claimed they were softer, which was probably true. Aside from his work and sport clothes, all the clothes in the closet were “mine.” I sent him to go lay down with a slap on his butt, which had him blushing a dark red. I grabbed a couple things from the bathroom before sitting down at his feet. Aaron might like to pretend he’s all tough and burly, but one of his secret pleasures was mani-pedis.

I took my time massaging his feet before getting to work filing his toenails into a soft curve and painting them a glittery pink. I blew on his toes to dry them, loving how it would pull a giggle out of him. By this point, I knew Aaron wouldn’t be able to stay awake for much longer. That didn’t stop me from teasing him a bit. wanting to give him a manicure, I just had to straddle his hips to be able to reach both hands. It was the most logical option, really. At first, Aar was too sleepy to realize what I was doing. I felt him notice just as I was finishing massaging his left hand. I could feel him growing harder beneath me, whimpering a little as he tried to stop himself from rutting his hips up into my heat. “It’s ok baby, you can move if you want, that’s a good boy.” I cooed, encouraging him by grinding my hips down a bit. That was all he needed to start rutting up into he in earnest. His whimpers grew needier and needier, throwing his head back against the pillows. I continued taking care of his nails, cleaning up his cuticles, shaping his nails, and painting them the same glittery pink. When I’d finished with the first hand I could see Aaron was getting more desperate, hair falling across his furrowed brow. “you think you can hold on until I’m done baby?” he pouted a little but nodded. “good boy” I purred, which made him whine more. I took my time massaging his right hand and doing his nails just as carefully as his left hand. When I was done I held his hips down as I moved further back to sit on his thighs away from his desperately rutting hips. He couldn’t even control his needy whimpers. I would feel bad if he didn’t look so pretty like that. I checked to make sure his nail polish was dry first before telling him what I wanted. “Now pretty boy, touch yourself for me. I want to see you cum all over those pretty pink nails.” The words were barely out of my mouth before he was desperately pawing at his lace panties, pulling himself out and fucking up into his own hand. He was such a beautiful sight like this, desperate and hungry for release. His eyes were screwed shut and that just wouldn’t do, so I grabbed his chin. “I want you to watch yourself bub. I want you to watch your pretty little cock cum all over those glittery nails.” He let out a desperate cry and only lasted a few more pumps before he came in pretty white spurts. I was mesmerized with the way it dripped down his fingers, loving the way his sparkly nails looked covered in his own cum. Goodness, he was pretty. I looked up and him, finding him slumped back against the pillows his a lazy smile on his lips. He was so close to falling asleep, it was precious.

Quietly I got up for a wet washcloth, cleaned him off, and tucked him back into his panties with a soft kiss to his bulge. He whined weakly, but I knew he loved be over-sensitized. I turned our lamps off and pulled his back against me, loving falling asleep with my soft boy. I should have known the quiet wouldn’t last. Far too early, Aaron’s emergency cell rang. (house rules were the work cell is off the whole time he’s home, and if any one calls the emergency cell there better be a damned good reason.) There was a child missing, they had to go now. Aar grumbled an apology and promised he would be home soon. I just nodded and shooed him into the closet to get dressed, clarifying that the panties stayed on. He blushed but didn’t argue. He got dressed quickly, gave me a kiss, and swung by Jack’s room before he was out the door. I sighed, missing him already. I didn’t complain though, I knew that saving people is what made Aaron Aaron. 

I woke up to possibly the funniest series of texts I have ever received in my entire life and a heavy Jack on my ribs.

[Crap.]

[You didn’t take it off. My collar, you didn’t take my collar off, I forgot to ask you..]

[and my nails, holy hell]

[MY NAILS ARE GLITTERY PINK]

[NO ONE HAS NAIL POLISH REMOVER AND MY NAILS ARE GLITTERY PINK AND I CAN’T TAKE OFF MY TIE BECAUSE I’M WEARING A PINK VELVET COLLAR]

[oh no.]

[I’m gonna get fired aren’t I?]

[no one besides the team has noticed yet..I’ve just been hiding my hands behind case files. Morgan is laughing at me and I can’t even intimidate him properly because I’m wearing GLITTERY PINK NAIL POLISH]

[how am I supposed to arrest our unsub with glittery pink nails???]

[also this collar is torture. Every time I think of it I almost get hard.]

[this is so embarrassing.]

[oh no..]

[am I into embarrassment??]

[alexa google humiliation kink]

[we’re talking when I get home.]

“Why are you smiling?” Jack asked sleepily

“nothing cutie, go back to sleep. How do pancakes sound?”

“pancakes!!!!” was Jack’s muffled reply with his face buried in pillows.

I chuckled, dialing Aaron on my way to the kitchen.

[magalidragon]

15, please

Ooooh this one I was really thinking about do we go full fluff or angst or what? Sooooo let us return to a universe that may have been forgotten....Princess Daenerys and her bodyguard Jon (spoiler alert) from my weird mysterious angsty fic bird on a wire. Well in that one he is FORMER and in this one it is set a bit before. Forbidden Love! 💗

Moodboard to come! Enjoy and thank you for the prompt!!

Romantic One Liner Prompts

15. “I’ve missed you so much.”

"Daenerys you look a bit peaky, are you feeling well?"

"I'm fine, mother."  She really needed a drink.  And not the ancient Dornish red they were currently drinking with their meal.  It was the weekly family dinner, something her brother instituted the second he became King, in effort to "foster better familial relationships."  It was basically his way of trying to turn them into as normal a family as possible, when they were anything but that.

She lightly touched her fingertips to her temple, a dull ache forming.  It would rage later, she had no doubt, but for now she could only ignore it and listen to Rhaegar wax on about a dull meeting he had with the Minister of Finance, Willas Tyrell, who was near her age but a bit of a wunderkind in finance and politics.

The empty seat across from her was ignored by Rhaegar, and her mother, and it irked Dany.  Viserys was back in the hospital, not that they would acknowledge it beyond simply saying his doctors thought they had his medications worked out and he would be home soon.  She took a deep breath, crumpling her napkin in her lap.  "You know Muna, I am a bit under the weather, I think I will retire early."

Rhaella glanced away from Rhaegar, who was annoyed she'd interrupted him.  Her mother furrowed her brow, concerned.  "Of course darling, I'll send something to your room later..."

"No thank you, I'm not hungry."  She tossed the napkin onto the chair as she stood, shooting a dark look at Rhaegar, who ignored her and sipped his wine.  "Perhaps it's the weather....or the company."

"Daenerys," Rhaella began, sighing.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes.  "Forget it Muna.  Rhae, always a displeasure."

"Daenerys," he began, but it was their mother who cut him off.

"Rhaegar, please.  I'll not have to fight right now."  It was the Queen Dowager who now looked exhausted and peaky, touching her fingertips to her head.  She waved her hand.  "I will see you later Daenerys, I'll check in on you."

I'm not a child, she wanted to say, but bit her tongue, nodding curtly.  She left the dining room, one of the smaller ones they used solely for family functions-- not that there were any of those beyond weekly dinner-- entering the corridor.

Maegor's Holdfast, where the official family residence happened to be, was free of security during non-working hours, to give the resemblance that they lived in a normal home.  If your home happened to be multiple levels of an ancient castle built by dragonriders.  It was a joke to her, an illusion, something out of a movie.  This is not the home you're looking for, type of thing.

Her heels clicked on the stone floors, barely covered with carpets, chilly in the late evening.  She shivered, an impressive feat given her dragonblood that normally kept her hot, and wondered where her security detail happened to be lurking that evening.  She could call them, if she wanted to go out, but this late they might say no, they couldn't guarantee anything.

Trapped would be a word for it.  Caged, another.  They meant the same thing, but that wasn't it at all.  Daenerys felt like her wings were clipped.  She could flit about and pretend she could fly, but she really couldn't.  Not unless she escaped from under their noses.

She went to her room and picked up one of her dump phones, texting missandei.  A moment later she had the address for a party, should she want to go out.  But she didn't.  She sighed, walking through the big open doors onto her terrace.  Her suite was in a tower, because that's what she wanted as a girl, and overlooked the Blackwater Bay, in the direction of Essos.

Wishing she was at Dragonstone, she closed her eyes, allowing the cool night breeze, salty from the sea, to brush through her hair and across her skin, like a lover's caress, gentle and soft.  On Dragonstone the air might have a burnt, ashy tinge to it, curling your nose, but she loved it.  She missed it.

Her eyelids flickered up, spotting the ships in the harbor, scanning the horizon, to the Dragonpit ruins and then to the Sept of baelor.  She could slip out easily.  Ser Gerold, their Chief of Security, was probably asleep in his bed in the Lord Commander's tower.  Arthur would likely be on duty for Rhaegar well into the night, Barristan was her mother's keeper and then there was Jamie Lannister floating about somewhere.

She named off the Kingsguard in her head, the ones that all had their assignments, some off duty that night, some no doubt in a control room, buzzing in anticipation there might be a plot afoot to kidnap the Princess or assassinate the King.  It had happened once.  Actually, twice, if she included that time Rhaegar's car had flipped on the way to Summerhall.  They said it was an accident, but she knew better.  It was Baratheon supporters.

Her nails dug into the stone, her heart empty, achy.  "Brienne might let me leave," she murmured.  Brienne was their newest guard, she was eager to please.

At her feet, her massive leopard-sized cat Drogon fussed, emerging from wherever he'd been hiding.  He yowled, clawing her feet.  "Is this how you greet me?" she teased, leaning down to lift him up.  She hefted him up and down a couple times, chuckling.  "I think you need a diet, young man."

Drogon yowled, protesting.  She knew he was just saying he was big-boned.  She kissed the top of his head, scratching under his chin.  He clawed into her arm, demanding he be put down, and she obliged lest her arm become a new scratching post for him.  He sauntered his fat butt back into her room and over to the tapestry of the three Targaryens and their dragons, pawing at the edge.

Her lips twitched, heart leaping hopefully, and soon her relief washed over her, the tapestry pushing aside and the secret passageway opening to reveal him.

"Oh," she exclaimed, pushing away from the stone wall, hurrying towards him.  Her arms flung around his neck, embracing him tight, her face buried in his dark curls, inhaling the scent that had been fading from her sheets and the oversized sweatshirt she'd stolen from his apartment, with each passing day.

He gripped her close, his exhale hard enough to knock her earrings aside.  He swayed, with her in his arms, her toes touching the tops of his feet, lifting her slightly off the floor.  "I've missed you so much," he mumbled, voice raspy.

"I've missed you too."

Falling back to her feet, she pushed his hair aside, tucking it behind his ear, fingertips stroking down his recently cropped beard.  Regulations being what they were, he had to make sure it wasn't unkempt, which he sometimes preferred it to be, especially when he was gone for a long time, like he had been.  His eyes crinkled with his warm smile, his own hands mapping her face, both reacquainting with the other, until she could take no more.

She cried out, muffled, kissing him before she could stop herself, fingers digging into the back of his neck, her mouth opening easily under his, desperate.  He held her tight, hands branding her hips, pushing her towards the nearest surface, which happened to be a chaise lounge near the door.

The chaise’s soft silk fabric brushed over the back of her legs when she reclined onto it, pulling him over her, kissing hard and demanding, pouring her happiness at seeing him after so long into the kiss.  He broke it, when the need for air forced them apart, and touched his forehead to hers, whispering.  "I was worried about you, that security breach last week."

It was just a drunk, the Aegon's Hill Academy frat boys daring each other to try to jump the fence, but of course he would see it as a legitimate problem.  "I wasn't even here, I was with Missandei," she murmured.

He frowned, tracing his finger down her nose, thumb skimming her swollen bottom lip.  "I wish you wouldn't do that without me."

"Because you want to party too?" she teased, but she knew what he meant.  He was her protector, her shadow, and she was never fully usafe unless he was near her.

He smirked.  "No, because it's been six months."

"Six months," she sobbed.  She had barely spoken to him, sneaking messages when she could.  She laughed again, rolling her eyes.  "Remind me to tell Lord Commander Hightower to never approve your military leave again."

"Better tell your Minister of War to stop fighting with the Free Folk at the Wall."

Her nose wrinkled; she detested Rhaegar's pick for Minister of War, Lord Tywin Lannister, and only knew he gave ihm that position because it meant he could keep an eye on him.  Better to have him near than across the continent, her brother said.  Dany would prefer he be in jail.

She nuzzled into his chest, needing to hold him, listen to his heart, and reassure herself he was there with her and not traipsing about in the snow thousands and thousands of miles away.  "Will you be back on my detail?" she breathed, her heart stilling as she awaited his reply.

He moved so she could stretch over him, so he could play with her hair, and he nodded. "Aye, I believe so.  Last I heard."

"We have to be more careful, I think Viserys knows."

He stilled his movements.  "He...is he good?"

She shrugged.  "Who knows...they keep medicating him.  Regardless, if he says something...I don't know."

"We'll be more careful."

They couldn't be any more careful at this point.  They hardly looked at each other, every interaction strictly professional.  He was her bodyguard, nothing more, nothing less.  She treated him like she did everyone else.  Little did they know that five years ago, since Captain Jon Snow, reserve Night's Watch, walked into the solar and Ser Arthur introduced him to her as her newest lead bodyguard, she had been hopelessly in love with him.

Well, not exactly five months.  It took some time.  He was annoying the first six months.  Then she started to become friends with him.  They grew close.  Closer.  Until about a year in she'd kissed him, when he'd found her after she'd given him the slip, at a warehouse party in Vaes Dothrak, while they'd been over in Essos for a 'goodwill tour.'

It was wrong.  They both knew it.  They both couldn't stop it.  He'd get reassigned at the least, fired at the most, and she didn't want anything to happen to him.

It was a matter of time.

Someone would find out.

She was sure that this latest assignment of him from reserves to active duty for the last six months might have been a sign.  Except he was a drug, she couldn't stop it.  She loved him and he loved her.  "Jon," she murmured, pressing her nose into the shadow dent between his shoulder and collarbone, idly pressing a kiss against his steady pulse.

"Hmm?"  He pulled lazily at her hair, twisting braids around his fingers.  She could die and be the happiest she'd ever been.

Lifting her face to his, she whispered.  "Make love to me."

He smiled slowly and leaned down, kissing her so tenderly, she thought she might break.  Except she wouldn't, because she was a dragon.  She relaxed against him and he lifted her up, carrying her across the sitting area into her bedroom suite.

Some time later, she lay against him as he slept, and stared out the open doors to the balcony and beyond, the moon full and as silver as her hair, glowing into the darkness over them.  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, ignoring the sound of reality beating at the door, and returned to sleep, where in dreams she could be Daenerys and he could be Jon.

And not the princess and her bodyguard.

[knchins]

In Their Arms - Shinsou & Kirishima

Summary: Shinsou and Kirishima decide to try something new with you in the bedroom.

Pairing: Shinsou x Fem!Reader x Kirishima

Rating: E+

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: pwp, threes*me, p*lyamory, begging, light d*gradation/praise, oral/an*l/v*ginal s*x, ass play, dp, spreader bar, rope b*ndage, light impact play, d*m/sub themes.

Notes: Requested by @/arrestingaphine (I’ll tag you in the reblog)! I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for being patient with me! Characters are aged up.

 When your partners asked you if they could try something new, this wasn't exactly what you had been imagining. While the three of you did sometimes indulge in light BDSM, this was a bit...heavier than normal.

 Your wrists were tied together and suspended above your head by rope that was tied to a hook in the ceiling. Your feet were still on the ground however to prevent any injury or excessive strain to your shoulders, though Kirishimia had bought a new toy for them to play with: a metal spreader bar that was now fastened to your ankles, keeping them shoulder width apart.

 On top of this exposing position, Shinsou had suggested that you be blindfolded too. While you didn’t object, the sensory deprivation definitely had you a little on edge. “That feel okay, princess?” Eijirou asked as he ran a hand over your ass, enjoying the soft flesh against his rough hand. “Not too tight?”

 “No,” You said with a small smile. While of course there were times when they did want to hurt you, they typically didn’t force you into a position that was too uncomfortable.

 “Good,” Shinsou said plainly as you felt something smooth and cool trace around the underside of your breasts. The tickling sensation made your squirm, earning you a light pop from the material. The sting was enough to tell you that it was his favorite riding crop. “Stop squirming.”

 He went back to tracing over your breast tissue, circling around your areolas and then your nipples, causing them to harden. A soft sigh left you lips at not only the touch of the leather crop but also Kirishima’s kneading of your ass. He always had to have his hands on it at all times, whether it was giving you a playful smack or pinch, or just rubbing it. It always made him feel at home and you were used to his constant obsession by now.

 Shin traced the crop down around your belly button and to your mons pubis, giving it a gentle tap before pressing it against your clit. You attempted to grind down onto it, wanting to feel some sort of stimulation, but he promptly pulled it away and popped your thigh. “I didn’t tell you to move.” He said, his voice stern as he rubbed the reddened patch of skin where the crop had made contact. “You’re not being a very good listener today, baby girl.”

 “I-I’m sorry," You muttered, wishing you could pull your thighs together to help give you some relief, but the metal bar between your ankles made it impossible.

 At some point Kiri’s hands had left you and you heard the squelching sound of a bottle of liquid being squeezed. It wasn’t too hard to figure out that he was squirting lube onto his fingers. Two cold fingers pushed past the cheeks of your ass, making you shiver at the sensation. They probed at the tight ring of muscle, earning a whimper from you that translated into a beg.

 Kiri inserted his index and middle finger into your ass as Shinsou returned the crop to your clit, pressing on it to help distract you from the minute pain of being stretched. You relaxed the best to your ability, a moan slipping out of your mouth as you tilted your head back. Shinsou was now rubbing your clit in small circles with the leather tip of the crop as Kiri was knuckle deep in your ass, scissoring his fingers to get you ready for his massive cock. He was definitely the biggest of the two men and taking him was always difficult no matter how much foreplay there was.

 “She’s really into this.” Shinsou commented smugly. “You were right, Kirishima.” This had mostly been the redhead’s idea, though Shinsou had added the spreader bar to the original plan which is what prompted Kiri to go out and buy one. Shinsou was a bit more on the sadistic side, compared to the other pro-hero who tended to only get rough every once in a blue moon. That was mostly because Kiri knew how much damage his cock alone could do if he wasn’t careful, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause you any unnecessary pain.

 Kiri pulled his fingers out slowly before thrusting them back in, the toe curling sensation caused you to arch your back and rock your hips back. For a moment you tensed, expecting a swat from Shinsou for moving but this time he simply let you revel in the pleasure of having your ass played with. Your walls clenched around nothing, the neediness to be impaled by one of their dicks was almost painful. A helpless cry left your throat as Kiri added a third finger.

 “Have I told you lately how much I love your tight ass?” Kiri asked, his voice oddly cheerful as he began to palm his clothed cock with his free hand. “You just suck in my fingers so easily. My little whore loves to get her ass fucked, huh?” He planted a kiss on your shoulder blade. ‘Pretty baby, we’re going to fill your holes with so much cum.”

 You nearly jumped out of your skin when you suddenly felt a tongue swipe against your clit. Shinsou had abandoned the crop for now, opting to take a taste of your arousal while Kiri continued to thrust his fingers into your back hole. Another moan ripped out of you as he latched on and began to suck, his tongue drawing shapes around the bud and making it become engorged.

 Now you were stuck between your two boyfriends, trying to grind down onto one’s tongue while the other was stretching you out. Even if you didn’t have the blindfold on, your eyes would still be shut as you were overcome with warmth and pleasure, an orgasm beginning to wind and build in the pit of your stomach. More moans and whimpers came out of you, sometimes their names garbled in between. You grabbed onto the rope tightly, knuckles turning lighter as squeezed to try and keep yourself grounded.

 You came with ease, they always knew how to do it and sometimes had contests on who could do it faster. Though truth be told it always came the fastest when they were working together. Kirishima pulled his fingers from you as Shinsou lapped at your wetness with clean up licks, placing a kiss onto your thigh before standing back up.

 “Such a good girl.” Shinsou muttered as he cupped the side of your face, “is that enough or do you want more?”

 “M-more,” You whined at him, legs quaking. “I need more, please? I don’t care what hole you put it in, just please let me cum again.”

 Both men were chuckling lightly as the desperation in your tone. “Well, Kiri did say we’d fill you with cum.” Shinsou mused. He had planned on it anyway, but felt the need to check in just in case the new position was too much for you. He was very pleased to hear that you were still the needy slut that you usually were.

 “Okay, princess, you know the word if you need to stop.” You nodded your head enthusiastically, letting out a small whine when you felt Shinsou’s dick press against your stomach. He rutted against you playfully as Kiri lathered more lube onto his penis so that it wouldn’t hurt you too much going in.

 “Y-yes, sir.” Your mumble was almost unintelligible. Your arms were starting to get a little tired but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.

 Kirishima grabbed one hip while Shinsou grabbed the other, they held you in place as Kiri pressed his tip past your cheeks and to your anus. “Deep breath,” He ordered and you sucked in air to inflate your lungs and as you slowly exhaled he pushed in. The stretch burned slightly but not in a painful way as he moved into you inch by inch. Shinsou was stroking himself lazily as he watched the expression on your face change from discomfort to satisfaction. Your mouth hung open as you let out another small moan and him finally being inside you.

 Kiri was grunting out praises behind you, letting you know how good of a job you were doing for taking all of him like this. He stopped moving only when his hips hit the supple flesh of your ass.

 Shinsou reached down and unhooked the spreader bar. Kirishima took hold of your waist to keep you from putting too much strain on your shoulders while his partner wrapped your legs around him. Kiri quickly adjusted so that he was pushed all the way back inside you, having slipped out a bit during the move.

 You linked our legs around Shinsou’s slender waist. After he aligned himself up with your entrance he grabbed onto your hips before thrusting in at a gentle pace so as to not overwhelm you. You couldn’t help but clench around both of them, breath short as you begged them for more.

 They both pulled out before pushing back in simultaneously, finding the perfect rhythm almost instantly due to just how many times they’d practiced. Despite both being busy pro-heroes, they always made time for you.

 “Fuck, you’re just pulling me back in. You really like being stuffed both ways, don’t you?” Shinsou asked and you whined an affirmative. “Dirty little slut.” He replied, giving your hips a gentle reassuring squeeze as he increased his pace. Kirishima matched him perfectly, picking up to a speed that had your thoughts messy and disjointed. The only thing you could focus on was the building of a second orgasm. Even the strain on your shoulders seemed to be a distant memory as your entire body was devoid of anything but pleasure.

 Kirishima gave your ass a playful smack, making you clench around them both once more which caused them both to moan. “Fuck, do that again,” Shinsou said, his voice wavering with what sounded like an impending orgasm. Kiri hit you again, spurring on your orgasm that had you crying for them.

 Shinsou came soon after, shooting semen into your womb as Kiri continued to wreck your ass. He increased his pace, his grip on your waist bruising as he chased his high. A few more pumps was all it took for him to release inside of you, coating  your insides with white.

 As he slowly pulled out, Shinsou reached above you to untie your wrists. Once free both men caught you to keep you from falling to the hard floor. They helped you to the nearby bed so you could lay down and catch your breath, mind now whirling at just how empty you were feeling without him.

 You tiredly pulled off the blindfold to lazily watch them clean themselves up. Once done they tended to you, Shinsou wiping up cum with a warm damp rag before drying you off thoroughly while Kiri pepped your face with sweet kisses. You couldn’t help but giggle at him, kissing him back the few times he landed on your lips.

 He moved to lay beside you, Shinsou coming to lay down on the opposite side. Their limbs wrapped around you, Shinsou’s face in your hair and Kiri’s in the crook of your neck. You let out a sigh of content. There was no safer place in the world for you than there was here in their arms.

Tag lists are now on reblogs! You can join my tag list by filling out the form linked in the pinned navigation post! You can also vote in my poll for my 1k celebration also linked in navigation! Ko-fi is now available for tips and coffees, link is in bio. Thank you!

[sunnysidevans]

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 - 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫

Summary: everyone copes with a bad day differently, after a particularly bad day andy finds a new way to cope, with some help of course. 

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW THEMES , drug mentions , alcohol mentions , oral (m/r) , daddy kink , semi public pda , unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap kids)

Authors Note : hi! heres the long awaited andy fic i promised, I do also want to point out i did base this after the show and that andy and laruie are not together bc I just dont condone cheating one bit. okay enjoy! 

NSFW THEMES UNDER THE CUT

READERS POINT OF VIEW:

Everyone copes with bad days in different ways, some people turn to alcohol, some people turn to drugs, some turn to good ways such as meditation, but not Andrew Barber, he turned to Burlesque clubs. The club was slow as it finally hit eleven pm, many men finally went home to their spouses as once it passed ten, you can't pull the “work” excuse. You sat in your chair in the small dressing room as you touched up your makeup lightly from the last set as your manager slipped in, “(Y/N), there’s a few more regulars left, would you mind taking the stage for a bit?” she asked as you smiled at her in the mirror “of course! What number are you thinking?” you asked as she smiled “you pick! Let me know and we’ll get the curtain up for you!” she smiled walking away as you heard a faint “Thank you!” in the distance. 

As the curtain rose and you and a few other dancers stood on stage, the music had not even started yet as you made eye contact with the blue eyed man in the corner of the stage, he looked like he had a bad day, as many do when they come into the club, it was common for them to cope with watching women dance and put on shows, better than being at a strip club sometimes. You started to lip sync to “I put a spell on you” in the black leather two piece you smiled and winked to him and received a smirk back.

You made it off the stage after the number smiling as Mandy smiled at you, handing you a water bottle, “You know I didn’t hire you to flirt with our guests” ending it with a wink you laugh “he looked like he needed a smile” you shrugged smiling widely at her as she laughed in response “okay sure” she rolled her eyes as she walked away, turning as she was a few feet away “oh! Would you mind staying a bit extra to pick up a bit? Mark is a bit understaffed on servers tonight” she smiled as you groaned with a smile “I guess” you drew out the s with a laugh and nodded quickly “yes” you smile as she yelled “your the best!”. You made your way back to the dressing room to change to a small napkin on your station “Great show beautiful AB” you furrowed your eyebrows looking over the note shrugging it off as someone was sending you a little fan mail. You tossed the note aside and quickly changed your clothes to head out and clean up some tables. 

The clock had finally hit midnight and most regulars and shifted out the door and there were two customers left, Mr.blue eyes included. You cleaned a few tables in front of blue eyes watching his eyes watch your every move. You stood and took care of the few glasses you picked up and made your way back to him leaning your hand and hip against the table you watched him, he looked at you like the most prized possession, it was actually really sweet. “So, blue eyes, can I get you anything else?” you asked softly smiling looking down at him as you made eye contact again as he smirked slightly “uh” he swirled the brown bourbon in his glass around “no not yet, unless your kicking me out” he looked back up at you again as you shook your head “I’m here till 1 so, enjoy your stay” you winked walking back to the counter to continue to pick up after the regulars who had finally went home. 

One am approached fast and the only one left was you and blue eyes, you’ve come to quite like calling him that, as you hadn’t fully introduced yourselves to one another. Mandy trusted you to lock up so it was just the two of you, he also seemed harmless. “Am I the only one left?” he asked as you dried a few glasses, he stood approaching the bar “Yes you are” you smiled at him tilting head setting the glass down smiling at him, biting your lip again. “So, what's your name?” you asked him watching as he leaned against the bar, “Andy” he smiled looking at you smiling “and you?” he replied again as you nodded “(Y/N)” you replied to him biting your lip, watching as his eyes followed every move of your lips. “(Y/N)” his voice rasped, dropping a few octaves deeper. “I like it” he nodded, smirking at you, looking you up and down watching your face as you walked around the bar to him. “So, Andy..” you whispered walking closer to him as you two stood face to face watching his face as you looked up at him “what brought you in tonight?” you ask, slightly messing with his tie, that had been loosened from the moment you two had made eye contact a few hours ago. He sighed heavily watching your fingers play with his tie “a long, long day” he bit his lip watching your lips as you stuck your tongue out to wet your lips. 

You stood on your tippy toes to finally kiss Andy holding onto his suit jacket to pull him closer as he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he leaned you against the bar counter, sitting you down and standing between your legs. Parting was for a short time he began to kiss down your neck as you let out a sigh of delight “A long day huh?” you moaned softly tangling your fingers in his hair as he found your sweet spot. He mumbled something along a “mhm” against your neck as you pulled him up to kiss his lips again passionately, they were soft and you for sure couldn’t stop kissing them. You pulled him closer by your thighs as you locked your ankles around him, pulling his suit jacket off and tossing it aside. Pulling away to catch your breath you wiped the small bit of chapstick you smeared on his chin biting your lip grinning looking at him raising your eyebrows “I only live down the road… would you want to come along?” you asked as he smirked, kissing you again passionately. 

You barely made it to unlock your front door before your back was against it and Andy’s lips were against yours. You once again pushed his jacket off his shoulders, tossing it behind you as he held your hips in his hand messing with the button on your jeans. You pulled away for air, panting softly, feeling his breath fanning your face as you watched his eyes darken. He undid the button of your jeans,grinning as he felt your breath speed up in anticipation. Andy kissed along your collarbone again as he slid his hand into your jeans, running his finger between your folds over your panties, if you knew you would get laid tonight you would’ve picked better attire. You gasped as his knuckle brushed your clit as he bit down on your shoulder. “Oh sweetheart is that the jackpot?” he asked softly as you nodded quickly in response as you pulled him in to kiss you again. As you tangled your fingers into his hair Andy slid his hand into your panties finally, He finally brushed his fingers through your folds, causing you to gasp and him taking the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. You whimpered as he ran his knuckle over your clit whispering in your ear “is that the spot baby?” he asked as you nodded quickly “please” you whispered “please what?” he asked as he slowly gripped your hips, his finger circling your clit gently “please touch me” you finally desperately whispered. 

Andy finally nudged you to the bedroom where you finally got the chance to admire him, as you slowly unbuttoned his shirt and was met with a beautiful tattooed chest. You shoved his shirt off as he slid his hands up your side to pull your top off along with the straps of your bra. You traced your finger over the tattoos slowly biting your lip as you kissed along his collarbone tattoo looking up at him as you kissed down his chest. Finally meeting your carpet you undid his belt slowly setting the belt aside along with his pants as you palmed him through his boxers. He growled as you finally tugged his boxers down and the cold air met his leaking tip. You looked up at him as you took his length in your hands, causing him to shiver “god damn your hands are cold” he groaned as you giggled and whispered “sorry daddy” before licking a strip up his length, watching his face you took him into your mouth,circling the tip with your tongue collecting the precum at the tip. “Oh fuck” he moaned leaning his head back as his hands tangled in your hair,gripping tightly. You continued to bob your head, pumping the remaining that you couldn’t fit into your mouth, as you bobbed your head you watched his face as he bit his lip tightly, gripping your hair. Andy held your head still as he thrusted his hips slowly into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag slightly, drooling down the side of your mouth and falling to your chest. “Fuck fuck fuck” he chanted pulling you from his length panting as you coughed wiping your chin “I’m not cumming down your throat” he panted as he helped you from the floor, picking you up and tossing you on the bed.

As you bounced on the bed you quickly shed yourself of your jeans and panties biting your lip as you watched Andy stand at the end of your bed. He was a beautiful man, nothing of what you were expecting in the best way possible. “Do you have a condom or are you on the pill?” he asked, climbing up the bed between your legs as you ran your hands up his arms, shaking your head quickly, pulling him down to kiss you before quickly mumbling “pill”. As you spread your legs for him he slowly adjusted himself to fit between your legs, looking up to your face for permission and being met with a nod he slid into you slowly. You moaned as he had bottomed out laying your head back “oh my god” you moaned as he watched your face, thrusting slowly to start. “Fuck” he groaned watching your face in pleasure, picking up his pace and thrusting faster and harder to hit your g-spot. You wrapped your legs around his waist tightly pulling him closer to pull him deeper as his thrusts got faster and consistent. “Oh Andy” you moaned, holding onto his shoulders,digging your nails into his arms as his thrusts began to get sloppy and more irregular. “Are you gonna cum for daddy huh?” he groaned as he managed to thrust harder and faster but still sloppy. As his final thrusts hit your g spot you gripped his back tightly moaning loudly arching your back “I’m cumming oh my fucking god” you moaned loudly as he smirked whispering in your ear biting his lip “cum for daddy baby you can do it” he reached down rubbing your clit to help push you to the edge in which he did and you arched your back,cumming all over his length. You arched your hips to meet his thrusts whispering in his ear “cum for me daddy” you whispered in his ear, to help encourage him as he groaned in your ear cumming inside of you and falling to lay on top of you, panting. 

A few minutes passed and Andy had climbed out of bed and managed to find his way to your bathroom across the hall. You heard the faucet running along with the toilet flushing before he strolled back into the bedroom. “Hey” he whispered sitting beside you, moving your hair out of your face smiling “here’s this, don’t forget to pee, i’ll go grab you a water” he whispered, handing you a towel and walking out the room, in which you got a good view of what he was packing in the back. After you used the restroom and cleaned yourself up you climbed back into bed and shortly were met with arms around you. Before you fell asleep you rested your hand on his arm as you felt him snoring behind you, you don't know what it was about him but you were more than willing to help him with his long days. 

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #22: Water Damage: Mirio Togata

You get home from a particularly icy commute. But Mirio’s got a surprise for you. 

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged up characters, winter weather, bubble baths, reverse cowgirl (sort of?) vaginal fingering, fluff

Notes: This is not proofread at all, sorry guys! I fell behind a little on my writing so I finished this exactly 30 seconds ago. Going to try and get ahead over the weekend so I can give you some edited stuff to finish up! 💖 Today’s prompt was “in the shower/tub,” and I cannot imagine anyone better suited to bathtub sex than Mirio. 

Kinktober Masterlist

The city is a flurry of wind and damp snow and you’re stuck in the middle.

After standing shoulder-to-shoulder on the rush-hour train as it crawled through the blinding winter evening, you’re more than ready to be home. Of course, it’s a ten-minute walk from the train station to your apartment building- fifteen, since you’ve got to shuffle your way home with your nose tucked in against the wind.

By the time the elevator doors open on your floor, you’re frigid. There’s no jacket that could have prepared you for that wind. It was one of those unfortunate days, too, where the weather was mild all afternoon before taking a gloomy turn around rush hour. Your heart sank as you packed up your desk for the weekend at the mere thought of stepping out in the cold.

And the weather did not disappoint.

“Baby?” You call as you disrobe in the entryway, knocking the snow off your boots before toeing them off. It takes you a good two minutes to get all your layers peeled off, but for once, you’re still chilled by the time you get down to your clothes.

And Mirio still hasn’t shown up to greet you.

If he’s home when you get home- which he usually is- he comes around the corner before you can even get your boots off. But hos coat is still hanging by the door- and he’s nowhere to be found.

“Mirio?” You pad into the living room from the hallway. He’s not in the kitchen, either, but as you shift to look for him, you catch the barest hint of a delicate, soapy scent as it drifts from the bathroom.

“In here, princess,” he calls. Suddenly, you clue in.

Your apartment is neither extravagantly luxurious nor spacious, but the bathtub was something that Mirio didn’t budge on. He’d insisted, when you looked for a place together, that you had a tub. You promised him you’d be fine with just a shower, but… he knew you liked to soak away your particularly long days.

You’d convinced him to enjoy a bath bomb or two, in the months since you’d moved here. It’s been pretty cute, teaching him how to relax.

“Hi, baby.”

When you poke your head into the bright bathroom, Mirio’s already facing you. He’s crouching next to the bathtub with a near-sheepish grin on his face. You might think that bath prepared behind him was for himself, if he wasn’t still fully clothed.

The tub is filled to the brim with water and bubbles, lightly scented by the bubble bath you bought ages ago- but haven’t used yet. As the water sways gently you can see that it’s been tinted a pale bluish colour- so he used a bath bomb, too.

Mirio really knows how to spoil you sometimes.

“Hey,” he greets, getting to his feet. He’s got a scented candle in his hand, and he lights it quickly before setting it down on the vanity and opening his arms to you.

“C’mere.” He pulls you close, gasping a little as your cold palms plant themselves on his arms. “Man, you’re freezing. Is it still snowing out there?”

“Yeah,” you groan. He’s so warm that it aches to hug him, and you slide your hands under the back of his shirt, making him tense and gasp. But he lets you warm your hands against him, kissing the top of your hear and then resting his chin there.

“I figured you’d be chilly, walkin’ home in that,” he mumbles against you. You lift your chin, eyes wide.

“Is that for me?”

“Of course,” Mirio laughs, stroking a hand over your hair. “You can feel for yourself, I’m plenty warm enough already.”

You kiss his warm cheek and pull back to look at him. You can feel the smile pulling at your cheeks.

“Thank you.”

Pulling your hands from his back, you wrap one fist in the front of his shirt and tug him down for a short kiss. He leans into it eagerly, smoothing a palm in and out of the small of your back.

“Alright,” he chides. “Get in, before the water cools down. I’m gonna go fix us some dinner, alright?”

“Wait.” You grab his hand, nibbling on your lower lip. “Stay.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but you keep going.

“Stay with me,” you prompt, “and we’ll cook together afterward. Please? This is why you wanted the big bathtub, isn’t it?”

“You’re shameless, princess,” Mirio croons playfully. He kisses you again. “Absolutely shameless.”

You don’t waste time stripping down, peeling your snow-soaked clothes away from your freezing skin. Once everything has been discarded in a damp heap, Mirio climbs in first. He’s already half-excited at the sight of you bare, his slowly stiffening cock bobbing between his legs as he lowers himself into the warm, soapy water.

You resist the temptation to lick your lips and lower yourself in after him, settling in between his thighs and laying back against his chest. As soon as you sink into the water you’re letting out a little groan of sensation as the heat penetrates your chilled muscles.

“God,” he sighs, slipping an arm around you. “Y’can’t just make noises like that, Princess.”

He kisses your temple, feigning chastity, but you can feel his excitement, hard and twitching against the base of your spine.

“It feels kind of nice,” you purr, sliding your hands up and down his powerful thighs. “You’re all slippery like this.”

“So’re you,” he hums. His hands are starting to wander- he slips calloused fingertips over your chest, up the column of your sternum and over the swell of one breast.

“Baby,” you croon, and let your head fall back against his chest. Your body opens up to him and you can hear the way he grins above you.

“Yeah?”

You’re miles away from the icy chill outside. Red flutters behind your closed eyelids. You smile big. Real big.

“Hmm, touch me.”

Mirio doesn’t need to be told twice.

He slips two fingers between your legs, stroking deftly up and down your warming slit. His palm is weightless in the water and you let out a slow breath, arching your hips lazily against his touch.

He ruts his hips gently against your back with a bare little grunt, then slips his finger into your tight depths. Your toes curl carefully against the porcelain beneath you, but you want more.

“Wow,” he growls. His voice buzzes in your skull as he pumps one finger slowly in and out of you. His other arm is wrapped securely around your breasts, squishing them gently. He nuzzles the side of your neck, making you shiver and slip against his chest.

“You’re so tight for me already, Princess.” His dick twitches hard behind you and you know what he wants, but he’s going to wait until you ask for it. He’s always been the patient one.

“Fuck,” you sigh.

“Yeah?” He pants. “You like that? You feelin’ good, baby?”

“More.”

He slips another finger against your entrance, but you grab his wrist and squeeze hard. He stalls.

“W-what…” He stammers.

“I need your cock,” you mumble. You don’t need to turn around to know that his ears are turning red. He always gets a little flustered when you say something dirty. Before he’s ready for it, at least.

“In… in here? A-are you…” He looks over the edge of the tub. It’s already pretty full, with both of you in it.

“Don’t care,” you mumble, drawing your hips up and reaching between your legs. You wrap your hand around his thick shaft and squeeze. He grunts hard.

“Clean up after,” you sigh, stroking him up and down as you tease your pussy against his sensitive tip. He squirms underneath you and lets out an overstimulated little chuckle, grabbing for your hips.

“Alright,” he groans. “Whatever you want.”

He leans in to kiss your shoulder as you sink down on him. You’re barely prepared and it’s a stretch, but you don’t care. The water sloshes tantalizingly over your bodies as you seat yourself against him, and just like that he’s bottomed out inside you.

“Oh man.” He runs his hand over the slick curve of your ass. “This feels so much better than I thought it would. You’re so warm, princess.”

You grip the edges of the tub. He locks one arm around your waist and holds, tightly. You begin to move, rolling your hips smoothly over his lap and letting his thick length pump in and out of you.

Neither of you are going to last long, but it’s probably for the best. You’ve barely started to move, and already the water is beginning to slop and slosh over the side of the tub. You don’t hold back, starting to bounce with the current of the water and ride him in earnest.

Beneath you, his body spasms.

“God,” he gasps. “Baby, I-I’m not gonna… shit, honey, you gotta…”

One of his hands scrambles over your thigh, finding its apex and searching for your clit. He finds it and circles it deftly, jerking his hips against your downward thrusts and forcing you furiously toward your climax.

It spirals spectacularly out of you as you cry sharply into the humidity of the bathroom. Your fingers tighten hard against the edges of the tub and you slam your hips down hard, holding them there while your pussy clenches around him.

He follows closely behind you, forcing tight spurts of cum into your belly and letting you milk him dry.

When it’s over for both of you, you sit for a moment, basking in the heady glow of your pleasure and catching your breath. His chest is damp, but solid and broad behind you, and he traces his fingers idly over your side as he goes soft inside you.

“Well,” he murmurs, stirring quietly beneath you. He reaches for a bar of soap and lathers it between his hands, starting to gently glide the suds across your chest and stomach. “You’re definitely not cold anymore.”

You can’t help the giggles that bubble forward. Carefully, you ease off him and turn slowly to face him. Kneeling between his thighs, you lean forward and kiss both of his cheeks. His forehead. His laughing mouth.

“Thank you,” you murmur against his lips. He reaches up to catch your chin and brushes his nose against yours. Dips his chin and flutters his eyelashes against your cheek.

“You’re welcome, princess,” he hums. He leans back against the edge of the tub and shoots you his best rendition of a lazy smile.

“I’m gonna have to help you clean up now, aren’t I?”

[friggsdc]

Title: little delinquent pt iv

part iii | part iv

Warnings: Female!reader (bat!sis), mostly plot with family fluff, AU, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4600~

Synop: It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment before the latter spoke up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” he tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.

“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.

---

 A/N: ee;;;; enjoy me not knowing what this plot is, idk tbh, but it’s fun to write. It’s more plot than fluff, which wasn’t what i meant to write sighs. I’ll probably write companion pieces to this that’s zero plot all fluff. The plot wasn’t meant to be so deep, but I mean, uhm… enjoy papa Bruce and mama Alfred~ 

---

[bigR] Dad’s upset.

[bigR] He’s talking less than usual, not even grunts.

[bigR] I think he’s ignoring me?

[you] crap

[bigR] Worse, there’s no news.

No news? True, you hadn’t seen the info feeds light up, the networks had been offline all day, but nothing from Tim’s side? If you didn’t hate Luthor before, well…

[you] this is giving me a headache ::dizzy_emoji::

[bigR] No kidding, I think he’s figuring a few things out.

[bigR] Patrol with B, everything’s unlocked, bb @ late.

[you] is typing…

             “You sure it’s okay?”

The taller male gave quite the toothy grin, a large hand coming up to pull the awkwardly fitted shirt collar back to center, admiring your new outfit. “You can just bring it back later, besides, I think it’s cuter this way.” After a few hours and an incredibly long phone call between Jason, Tim and yourself, the three of you combined were able to get the suit to come off. 

Tim said he still had a lot to go over, but that the laptop was actually incredibly useful. Much of what Tim had been talking (and geeking) about had been lost on Jason and you, too focused on Terry and wrangling the alien suit off.

Jason said he’d be jealous of the strange futuristic-like material if it weren’t for the second skin-like fit, happily poking fun at Nightwing’s taste in suits.

Most of the work was done on Tim’s side since he apparently already had the ability to take control of the suit. It was something you were rather… anxious about, but unlike the manor, Jason’s place had the advantage of no Bruce and no cameras.

So now you sat in the same pair of pants you’d come over in, the only pair of flip-flops he had. They were far too large for you, but your toes would have to hang on till home, and a large t-shirt that fit well enough. 

“Muscle up, Buttercup” was written on the front, Superman’s flexed arm between the words.

“Your taste in clothes is…”

“Cheap. Like second-hand cheap.”

“But… why…”

“To spite Bruce? I pay more for job-related injuries than money I actually have, it’s been tempting me to go back to crime, honestly.”

“…you sure that’s not to spite Bruce as well?”

“I mean,” he shrugged, an impish grin on his face as he lightly ruffled the top of your hair, causing you to childishly swat his hand away, “isn’t that what everyone else does? It’s fun, you should try it sometime.”

“Uh-huh…” you were honestly too much of a—

“Daddy’s girl,” he snorted lightly, unimpressed.

Before slipping one of Jason’s unused backpacks on, you stuffed the batsuit in the bottom, and the jacket you arrived in on top. Turning just in time to see him picking up Terrence’s sleeping form with incredible gentleness, you cooed lightly.

“You know, you’re not bad at that,” he looked at you, frowning, ears flushing before his attention went back to the bundle in his arms.

“Not even…” instead of moving to take the child from him, you opted to stand still and just watch the interaction instead, as if a point were being made.

Big boy looked like he was terrified of breaking the child in his arms, like an heirloom British teacup, “You look cute like that, a giant teddy bear and a tiny uh... new bat?” Walking over, he turned his eyes to the side, not a single trace of anger towards the situation in his voice anymore, “don’t get used to it,” he muttered, unsure of himself. “But you could get used to it,” you smiled, taking the giant marshmallow from him, “he’ll be around from now on, you know. You’ll have uncle duties~” Your teasing only increased his rising timidness, “right…”

“Well,” he began, heading to the door once you had everything, “I’m already late for patrol, let’s get you home.”

-

Alfred had greeted you at the door and mentioned putting on some tea, and you gladly accepted, though not before you went up and changed. With the promise to be back downstairs in a few minutes, he took Terrence from you to ready him for bed. Adorable child was actually quite active, having tired himself out at Jason’s temporary housing.

Quickly, you’d headed to Tim’s room to empty the contents of your bag in his faraday cage, hoping that it was secure enough being in his room. Once you’d locked the safe’s door, you headed out of his room and down the hall to your own. Sorry Jay, but the shoes were uncomfortable, and the shirt kept trying to strangle you more than the shirt of a giant should. Pajamas sounded wonderful right now.

The now empty backpack was tossed to the side near where Duke had left the your clothes from earlier in the day, and a few immediate items for Terrence. You figured everything else was probably in the nursery now, hoping it was all waiting for you in the next few days. The awkward clothes you’d worn over the suit had been tossed on your day clothes, and then Jason’s shirt and shoes were dropped on top.

The shower was quick, and having changed into a fresh pair of pajamas, you suddenly felt sluggish, your shoulders now heavy with tightness. Come to think of it, your thighs also felt rather wobbly, like jelly… but the only strenuous activity you can remember doing in all honesty was… base jumping… was it the wings? It’s all you could honestly come up with. Maybe you weren’t used to such a thing yet, and as you rubbed your shoulders, you headed back downstairs to the sitting room. “Nn…”

“Sore?”

It was still too early for anyone scary to be home right now, so…

You nodded, collapsing on the small sitting couch, Alfred going to stand from his seat to fix you a cup of tea from the tray on the table. “I did a dumb thing today. I’m not certain if I regret it or not.” He handed you the tea plate and cup before returning to his original position on a rather regal looking chair, “I’ve already put the Little Master to bed for the evening. The Young Masters went to bed awhile ago, though I suspect, they are not, actually sleeping.” He gave an amused hum at the thought of Damian and Jon and what they were totally not doing. 

He definitely hadn’t noticed when they’d snuck out earlier. Nope, not at all.

It was a long day filled with heightened emotions, anxiety, stress, confusion, and at the end of it, you were just so tired, and Alfred had always been your confidant next to Tim, and—

You tried to keep quiet as you spoke.

“I jumped out of a really tall building. Like… ninety feet up? I’m not certain, I was watching my life flash before my eyes.” He sighed and frowned into his own tea, “Master Bruce has already left for the night, Master Tim is accompanying him, as the boys are… supposed to be here for a night off. I really had hoped you’d grown up to be more intelligent and not as reckless as your brothers.” Or your father, Alfred mused, sipping at his tea, pinky out, the proper macaroni gentlebutler he was.

“I mean, I panicked, I was in a batsuit, I had a lot of intel on me, like, literally stole a laptop and backed up something called Project B (whatever that meant, though you had your suspicions having met Conner), there was a ton of guards outside going from door to door… I don’t have the same muscle mass to fight like my militant brothers, I was scared of what would happen if they caught me, like dad’s reputation?, I may have been overwhelmed by the—”

“—batsuit?” Ah, you looked up from your tea with wide eyes to see him staring, uncertain if the twinkle in his eye was worry or mischief. “Yeah, that. Uhm… Please don’t tell dad,” you sat up straight, gave him your biggest crocodile tears, and were about to clasp your hands together like a beggar before he waved your antics off. “I would not, not unless it endangers your life, Young Miss, you know that. Including young Master Terrence, of course.”

“This afternoon I must ponder over, What you did was, how shall I say, not okay,” he spoke, stern.

He stood to walk over, seating himself next to you while smiling gently, “though I must admit, I am quite curious as to the story behind all of this.” You gave your own small smile as you stared at your tea, “Yeah. I still don’t know all of it yet, myself, but… it’s actually really cool…” The two of you spoke in hushed tones.

Bruce may have been your father, but much like him, you were raised by Alfred, and seeing as you usually weren’t allowed out on the field like the others, your disposition was as Alfred’s was; support. It was something your brothers and father relished in when they had any extra time over the years. You loved to spoil them, and they were readily eager for it. 

It was also thanks to Alfred that you’d learned you had a unique knack for espionage.

Your brothers were raised to protect themselves and others, getting to go out nightly on risky (and deadly) vigilantism escapades. More than that, they not only got to be of use to your father, but they were able to grow up around him, their lives dedicated to the same purpose.

To say you were jealous was an understatement, often worrying Dick and Jay at times.

To say you were your father’s daughter and just as like-minded as him was also an understatement. This was something Tim and Damian understood better than your two eldest siblings.

You were determined as heck.

You graduated from avoiding Alfred’s detection to stalking your father and brothers, skills honed even further as you learned how to use their toys and listen in on their coms system. It was your father’s own fault, leaving you alone all the time.

You would never be useless again.

You would never be left behind again.

“So, your brothers are helping you, then? I am glad of that, it means I need not worry as much,” even though Jason and Damian only knew half the truth, it was Tim who knew everything you did. Duke didn’t want to know and apparently Jon’s dad had warned him not to get involved with “bat business,” and Alfred… “If… If Terry’s parents…” how were you supposed to frame this part, exactly? You ere bothered by the truth of it, so... maybe making it sound worse than it was? If that was even possible... “if they were bad people, like really bad people,” as if suddenly remembering the walls had ears, you lowered your head and voice, barely audible for him to hear, “do you think dad would let me keep him?”

The both of you knew that wasn’t the issue, Bruce had no problem with the child staying, but…

There was something about the boy that seemed to be worrying you…

“If there is one thing I take great pleasure and joy in,” Alfred beamed like the proud father he was, “it’s that at least one of you children turned out more like myself than Master Bruce.” No, honestly, he was so glad you weren’t gloom and doom like your father and siblings, “I’m certain you could tame the wildest of beasts.”

His parentage held no ground here, the two of you understood the meaning behind the words, memories of when Damian met you for the first time after arriving at the manor surfacing, “I think you’ll do just fine with the child. I have all the confidence in the world.”

Maybe you were being overly paranoid about the whole situation.

The evening was finished in comfortable companionship between the two of you, and he’d shoo you away to bed long before it was time for the boys to come home.

After cleaning up and assuring himself that at least someone in the manor went to bed properly, he busied himself with the surveillance of the manor.

He made certain you wouldn’t be caught just because of his curiosities.

-

Through part of the night, you’d begun doing as much research into the relationship between Luthor and CADMUS as you had time for, the past few days having been spent going over only CADMUS information. That was until you got a ping on Luthor’s name written on several specific checks, and gathering as much information available. You looked for key phrases in the news cycle over the past day’s incident, as well as dating back several months. You’d even taken the chip out of your work phone and popped it into the laptop sitting on the bed in front of you, allowing network protocols to take over.

There was only so much the news would give you, so you checked in on security feeds from the area, keywords during phone calls used to see if anyone noticed, satellite intel snapshots, everything. Anything.

The time-sensitive channels still hadn’t opened, no information from other informants was anywhere in the Societies channel logs, not even the time-delayed backlogs.

Someone else was cleaning up.

-

Early morning, the best time to avoid anyone in the manor who had a night life, also just in time to get breakfast as Alfred made the first batch of the day. Though mostly for himself, he’d generally make extras as you’d often join. Heading down the foyer stairs, Terry’s barely conscious form bundled in your arms, you beelined to the kitchen, the smell your guide. “Ah, good morning Young Miss! I even made some for the Little Master, just in case,” Alfred smiled down at the boy in your arms, holding up a small bowl of minced and steamed veggies.

The kitchen was large for an older-modeled mansion, constantly rebuilt with minimal changes, but still cozy and incredibly sustainable. Between the door to the foyer and the opposite wall, where the door to the dining room was, there was a large table. Several shopping lists, foodstuffs, and cookware took up a good portion, but there as still enough room for a small few people to sit comfortably at once.

You smiled, sitting down in the chair the older male pulled out for you, then pushing you in, food for the child set on the table. You situated Terry in your arms, finding a nice spot to rest his bottom without worry of him slipping off, and reached over to spoon some of his meal to him.

Strangely, he didn’t resist much, yawning in between bites as you had to scoop up what tried to spill out of his mouth, “so, how old might you say he is? I’ve been thinking about it, perhaps about a year?” you nodded as you looked up, agreeing with Alfred as he sat down, food cooking behind him in the meantime. “I think… if not that, maybe a few months younger… he can stand, and seems okay with soft solids… I think you’re right, maybe a year?” his clothing size certainly seemed to think the same, Duke having gone to extreme lengths to get a perfectly fitted wardrobe for the boy. He even included a few different larger sizes for the coming year as well.

“Hm…” Alfred leaned on his crossed arms, rested on the table as he eyed the boy, “I suppose we could begin early development lessons with him, signing especially, but I think he can do more, words, possibly.” In response, Terry sneezed, food spraying all over the spoon and bowl in front of the two of you, his eyes still groggy as he slumped in your hold. “Oh dear,” Alfred hummed in amusement, standing to bring you a small terrycloth towel to clean up.

Terry gave a small grunt as he pushed at the cloth now cleaning his face.

“Gonna… Gonna have to get used to that…” the suddenness surprised you, you knew it was a normal human function, but you just hadn’t… expected it.

“I think there will be a great many things for you to get used to from now on, even I will have to relearn a few things. It’s been… a very long time since an infant was in this home.” He went back to finishing his and your meal, a nostalgic and wistful look masking his face. Bruce had no idea what to do with you when you were an infant handed over to him, and it amused Alfred to this day.

Thinking about it, you looked down at Terry, your chin coming to hover over his head, almost as if you were trying to nuzzle him, loud enough for only him to hear, “…mama. S… Say mama.” The child just tilted his head and cooed at you instead, reaching up to pull at your hair again ohdeargodpleasestop.

Releasing your hair from the child’s grasp and holding both of his hands in yours this time, you tried once more, “mama.”

“Mmba,” he blew a raspberry at you as he slurred his speech, becoming more fascinated with the bubbles he blew than your inquiries. “Mm… bah.” He let out a giggle, popped his lips at you and then smiled, trying, and failing thanks to your hold, to reach for your hair again. After several attempts, he settled for turning slightly, resting his head on your chest as he watched Alfred and all of the very shiny cookware.

You flushed, wanting to beam but also feeling incredibly self-conscious about the situation still, it was honestly a lot to get used to. Frowning in determination at the snuggly bug of a child, you tried a different tactic this time, “ma.” He was still more interested in the food being cooked, however, and you heaved a sigh into his head of hair. “Mma,” well, it was a start, and you repeated your previous chant of mama to him, your own eyes wide with what felt like pride.

Was this how Alfred felt?

“Mmba.” Well, as you said, it was a start. With a sigh, you went back to shoving food in his mouth, though quickly you had to wrangle the spoon from his mouth each time. “Stop… biting it, Terry…” you wondered how Conner had gotten so smart in such a short amount of time, wondering if Terry had still been too young when you took him from the bio labs at CADMUS.

“Ah, good morning Sir,” Alfred greeted, and your head shot up to see your father standing in the doorway, bags under his eyes and a yawn hidden behind the back of his hand. “Good morning, Alfred,” he stared at the older man with a frown, obviously trying not to say something. Instead, he looked at you and the child for a long moment, giving both of you a morning greeting. And even though Terry couldn’t properly respond, he did give Bruce the same challenging look as the last time.

He was looking for something out of the ordinary, however, the only thing in the room that was new was Terry, nothing else seemed to be amiss. But you could tell, looking up at him from the corner of your eyes, head still downturned, he was searching.

“Morning dad…” you tried to be light as you smiled at him, nothing is wrong.

“Daah,” Terry tried imitating, but it was lost in the rest of his babbling as he grabbed the food from the spoon. He was making another mess as he shoved it in his mouth, fingers fiddling around tongue and mushy carrots. Thankfully you still had the terrycloth to wipe at his chubby cheeks.

Bruce’s footsteps were as silent as his entrance, stopping next to you and squatting down, large hand, warm and gentle, landing on Terry’s head as he ruffled his hair, “I’d like to talk to you downstairs soon, okay?” He studied Terry for a moment, eyes as brilliant as his own, though it seemed like Bruce almost enjoyed the small head of hair in his palm. You couldn’t tell beyond the awkward chill in the air, but the two of them were giving each other knowing looks, both challenging, though Bruce couldn’t understand why Terry looked at him that way.

He made to stand up, pulling his hand away before Terry could do any damage, cheeks puffing out in a pout. “There’s something I’d like you to look into,” he spoke as he headed back towards the door, a morning coffee handed to him by Alfred, “oh, and you’re not allowed to leave the grounds for the time being. The tracker seems to be faulty.”

Considering you broke them often over the years, well, yeah, of course it was faulty.

Again.

The smile he gave you before he left was smug and you weren’t completely certain as to why, and it was making you really really nervous, “the League computers picked up something quite interesting yesterday.”

“Uh…” Ah yeah. Well heck.

Yeah, metropolis was both a huge risk AND your last outing, you were glad you took the chance though, even if your stunt escalated the situation. You were now officially on house arrest by the most observant secret-wannabe cop in the world.

Then again, there was no telling exactly what he knew.

He might be bluffing.

“Maaam… ah…” Huh? Did he just… Quickly as if borrowed from the speed force, your thoughts of Bruce and the problems at hand seemed to flee as you beamed at Terry. “Mama?”

“Mamhh.”

-

[bigR] Was able to give the drive a quick look.

[bigR] I don’t understand villains. I just don’t.

The hell did that mean?

[steph] c u soon <33

Ah, crap.

-

The table before Bruce had only a few pieces of paper and only two photos. You’d come home nearly a week ago with a new addition to the family, from where he still wasn’t certain. He’d checked and there’d been no missing infant reports that matched up with him, both in looks and location. Tim seemed to be in on it, hiding secrets along with you, and holding back when Bruce would inquire about anything even remotely familiar to the situation. Tim had also been keeping busy with something the past few days, and ever since you’d come home from shopping, he seemed unable to stay still, constantly fidgeting.

Then there was yesterday, when Duke took you out shopping with the boys while Batman had been at the Womb at the League’s watchtower, digging up as much as he could. Which, unfortunately, was just the few scraps of confusing ledes in front of him. The annoying part is how well you avoided the cameras, there were only a few times where he had been able to make you out, the rest he had to guess based on your profile that day.

The subsequent events had started stacking up in a rather annoying fashion. Your tracker’d been broken since you gave everyone a scare a week ago, returning with a child in your arms and something akin to paranoia. Even Tim had been clueless (until he wasn’t), and now even his attitude was giving Bruce pause. It felt more unnerving than bad, something making Bruce’s own stomach knot when he kept coming up with dead ends.

The day you’d gone shopping, the Womb had picked up something the news hadn’t, as the news was calling it nothing more than an accident, and it was that that gave Bruce even more pause. The worst part is that he couldn’t just take a deep dive into the LexCorp building’s system, knowing that much was out of their (or his) hands.

If Cyborg found out that Batman was secretly looking into a non-incident on the League system for family-related business, then he’d never hear the end of it from Superman and the others. He’d have to go out of his way to get into the building, and right now wasn’t the best time to do so, security was increased ten-fold. He’d have to wait it out.

LexCorp wasn’t even reporting it as an incident themselves, but the fact that they were being very stringent about the details, the increase in surveillance, Bruce felt it in his gut; an obvious coverup. The problem was why, there was no way what had happened had been anything short of problematic for Lex, and yet they weren’t filing any kind of paperwork.

They did their best to act as if they didn’t care, but Batman saw all the extra measures, and he also saw the information black hole happening.

LexCorp, no doubt, was scrubbing.

What he had been able to do, however, was gather two snapshots of a black blur that sped out of the building before disappearing into the thick of the city below.

About the same area where Damian’s own tracker took a detour.

“I preferred it when you used to use electrical tape to tape a transceiver blocker to your arm to hide the trackers,” Bruce hadn’t looked up as you approached (and you were dang silent too, even Terry was being chill), “It was much less of a headache.”

“Yeah, but that was when I was a kid. Nothing I do now can hide me from you anymore, the technology is different from back then.”

“Except breaking it.”

“Except that.”

He snorted as you stopped at the table, situating Terry on your hip, and looked down at the photograph that Bruce pushed over to you. It took every bit of training not to give anything away as you picked the photo up and gave it a once-over.

“This is…?” you turned your head to see him with that smug smile from before, tapping the image in your hand with his finger, “this is what I want you to look into.” You would have bristled if you hadn’t known your father better, this was some kind of trap.

“The same day you headed off to Metropolis, intriguingly enough, the LexCorp building had a break-in,” he paused to gather more words, rolling them around on his tongue before swallowing them, I’m worried, and you’re the reason.

“A break-in? I hadn’t heard—”

“No, you wouldn’t have. LexCorp seems to be keeping it from the public knowledge.”

“Then the League computers?”

“Was able to take a few photos from another satellite, these two were the best ones I could find. One of whatever broke in as it took off flying, and another of the same building a few minutes after. No police, no fire crews, nothing.” He was watching your reactions like a hawk, unfortunately you’d played this game so often growing up (learning to lie and stay out of trouble was a skill your brothers and you freaking perfected, even if they got into trouble on purpose), that it was really very easy to just—

“Uhm, but… dad, how? You grounded me, remember? That makes gathering any kind of intel like, y’know, hard.”

The smug smile was back as he pointed at the rather established medical area, the two of you heading over together, “you’re the information broker, I’m sure you can find something useful. It’s not the first time you’ve had to gather information from behind bars, after all,” you really hated how he still felt compelled to remind you of that.

It was once, in a country where no one knew you and where records were shoddy at best.

And on purpose, dangit.

You still weren’t certain how he even found out, besides, he and your brothers had done worse by comparison.

As he began removing the old tracker, you ignored the pain, the lack of anesthetic nothing new to you, too used to it at this point. Not that it was terribly painful. He was precise in skill, second to Alfred, you were too preoccupied with keeping the child still in your lap to notice what he’d been doing prior to your arrival.

All jokes aside, he’d finally gotten ahold of something that could yield actual results.

He looked to the boy again, staring at his familiar features, at his hair, like midnight, “striking how much he looks like us.” You frowned at him.

It was a statement.

The joke wasn’t lost on him.

Or on you.

[itsnsfwalways]

Canyon Moon

A/N: WELCOME TO THE CANYON MOON FIC ! The chapters have to be split up and cut a lot shorter bc of sizing limits but I’m hoping you guys will still like it.

FIC MASTERLIST

WARNINGS FOR CHP. 1: swearing, mild drug use (weed)

CHAPTER ONE: the world’s happy waiting

The ocean has always been a calming place for you. Any body of water, really. The lapping of thewaves, the smell of salt, the course feeling of sand between your toes. It felt like home. So when you moved to Malibu, you found yourself lying on the beach until 4 am most nights, sometimes sleeping, but more often than not listening to music and writing.

Working as a songwriter for mostly just your friends, or as a fill in whenever someone wasn’t there, you were constantly writing. It was a lot easier to get deeper that way for you, not having to worry about sharing your secrets, and being able to mask it in other people’s voices. That being said, you had journals upon journals of your own songs. They were just for you, and occasionally your best friends, but it was something you were really proud of. After writing for the past 6 years, you’d like to think they were pretty good.

You’d gotten to your little spot around an hour ago, parking your pride and joy, an orange and yellow remodeled VW bus, which also functioned as your room most nights when you wanted to be out here, next to the sand.

The vibrant sunset had since dulled into a deep purple color, but it was still fairly light out. A small bonfire was lit in front of your blanket, keeping you a little extra warm even though it was still 70°.

Strumming your guitar, you moved away from the rock you were leaning against, a car’s headlights snapping you out of the haze you always got when you were out here. And also those two joints you had smoked already.

You raise your eyebrows at the fucking bright yellow Ferrari, hoping they were just stopping for a second.

Your prayers were ignored as a guy stepped out, a hoodie pulled over his head.

Shrugging your shoulders, you continue to play mindlessly, making up different melodies before creating a new one on top it.

Mr. Ferrari starts making his way over to you, which sends a flutter through your chest.

“Hey, just so you know, if you’re going to kill me, I’ve always wanted to die listening to Landslide by Fleetwood Mac,” you yell, grabbing your phone from your bag just in case.

The guy stops for a second and lets out a laugh.

“Definitely not trying to kill you,” he chuckles, and, oh, he’s British.

He comes closer and you come face to face with one of the prettiest people you’ve ever seen. Wearing a black hoodie with the words “Treat People With Kindness” embroidered on it, that’s cute, a pair of grey slacks, which you wouldn’t necessarily think of for beach attire, but he makes up for it by completing the look with no shoes.

“Do y’have a lighter I could borrow? Damn thing ran out and the gas station is just far away enough for it to be annoying.”

You laugh at that and nod, tossing him a random one from your bag.

“I feel that. I’m Y/N. Where you from?” You bluntly ask, because hey, he’s cute.

“Manchester, originally. Live near here now. You mind?” He asks, and you nod, scooting over to let him sit.

You’re hit with the smell of vanilla, leather, and just rich as he plops himself down, leaning against a rock a few feet away from you.

He points to your guitar, lips curled around the joint for a second before he inhales and asks,

“How long you been playing? Liked what you were doing earlier.”

You blush at this, barely remembering what you were doing.

“I have no fuckin clue. 14 years? Got my first guitar at 8 and fell in love.” You over exaggerated hugging your guitar, getting another laugh out of him, before you spit out,

“Oh, and thank you! I don’t really remember what I was doing to be honest. Just get in the zone sometimes. Do you play?”

He looks surprised at this, looking at you closely for a second.

“Uh, yeah, little bit. Been trying to learn more recently and kind of get my skills up.”

“Good for you! If you ever wanna play together, I’m literally always here. You sharing?” You smile, looking at his face in the orange light. His cheekbones are illuminated perfectly and you feel your throat go dry.

He nods and hands it to you, watching as you press the filter to your lips.

“What did you say your name was again?” You rack your brain and cannot remember him introducing himself.

“Didn’t. Harry, sorry that was a bit rude,” He mumbles, and you look at him funny.

“Are you like an FBI agent, Harry? Why so secret? And harassing young girls on the beach at night? With a fucking Ferrari? Come on, man, what’s your secret?” You tease, bumping your elbow into his side.

He laughs, shoving you with his shoulder lightly.

“Only harassing that’s going on is you interrogating me. But if I’m making you uncomfortable, I’ll leave right now. I should probably go, actually.” He rants, suddenly moving to get up. You turn your body quickly and lay your legs in his lap so he can’t move.

“You’re dumb. Secret, please?” You smile, blinking up at him.

He scoffs, shaking his head with a small smile, and pauses to run a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath in before saying,

“I’m a musician, so that’s where the car and secret beach trips come in. I’m actually just starting to write for my next album, and I’m hitting a rut.”

“Oh shit, that’s what’s up! You’ll have to show me your stuff sometime. Sorry that I don’t know you, I’ve been living on the road for awhile so I listen to a lot of oldies. Plus, with hippie parents you don’t hear a lot of new music,” You explain, gesturing to your van.

He looks at you for a second before shaking his head, smiling to himself.

“What?” You grin, shoving his knee with your foot.

“You’re something else, s’all.”

“So I’ve been told.” A giggle falls from your lips as you lay down on the blanket, legs still in his lap, guitar now discarded to the side.

Looking up at the stars starting to form, you feel his gaze on you. Trying to figure out who this chick was, what stories she had, what witty remark was just past her lips.

“Question.” You say, propping your head up. Your hand finds it’s way on the back of your skull and you feel the blanket shift slightly underneath your elbow.

“Answer,” He responds with the same tone, tapping your knees with his fingertips.

“Would you wanna come with me so I can get a tattoo?”

He stops for a second and stares at you.

“Like, right now? You got an appointment?”

You grin and move off of him, ruffling his hair.

“Even better. I got cool friends.”

He takes his time packing up all your stuff, being as cautious enough to remind you not to cover the fire with sand in case someone stepped on it.

“This is my beach, Ferrari. No one comes here. Except handsome British guys, apparently.”

He looks up from the ground, where he’s stuffing your towel into your bag, and throws you a smirk.

“Thanks, baby. You’re gorgeous as well,”

“Blegh. Let me come introduce you to Sunflower,” you fake shudder at the pet name and he grins, pinching your side so he can laugh at your little jump.

You lead him over to your van, opening up the side door to show off your renovated home.

The entire thing was orange with white trim, big yellow sunflowers painted on the sides. The ceiling inside was painted a dark blue, the walls painted yellow.

A meditation rug was lying on the floor, a light brown wood flooring that matched the cabinets attached to the ceiling.

Your bed was all the way in the back, a simple white comforter on it. A mirror hung next to it, attached to the bathroom door. There was a small kitchen counter complete with a sink and a stovetop next to it. A small table folded out behind the drivers seat where a lounge area was located, orange cushions and fairy lights decorating the little couch.

All in all, it was a tiny fucking house in a car and you treated it like your baby.

“This is fucking sick,” he says, looking at the different artwork, posters, and decorations hanging all over the walls and cabinets.

“Thanks! Did it myself. Spent all summer working on it a few years back, I’m damn proud of it.”

There’s a pause for a second, trying to figure out how to best work this out.

“I’m cool to just leave my car here if you’re down to drive me. We’re going to one of my guy friends’ studio about thirty minutes from here,” you suggest, having a feeling Harry wouldn’t be down to leave his car here, no matter how secluded it was.

“Uh, okay. Should I be worried? Who knows what scoundrels you hang out with?” He teases, watching you go into the van to grab some things.

You glance back at him, laughing, before your breath catches in your throat. He’s since removed his hoodie and is left in a white tank top with small black print on the rib cage. Making a mental note to figure out what it says later, your eyes can’t help but drift to his arms. Illuminated in the car light, his biceps bulge as he rests his hands on the roof, leaning forward slightly into the car.

His tongue traces along his teeth, landing itself in his cheek as he watches you check him out.

“See something you like?” He asks, raising his eyebrows like he’s genuinely curious.

Your eyes flick back to his smirking face and you blink for a second, before responding with,

“Yeah, was trying to figure out what asshole uses a word like ‘scoundrel’ in 2018, what the fuck, Harry?”

He barks out a laugh and brings his fist up to his mouth to cover it, the other one coming down to hold his stomach.

“When you are done appreciating my humor, I need to change real quick. Spin around, please,” You come up from your squat and pull off your sweatshirt, not waiting for him to do that.

“Jesus, Y/N,” He exhales, spinning around and looking up at the sky.

“What? I gave you a warning,” you giggle, sliding your sweatpants down to slip into a pair of black volleyball shorts.

“By about half a second!” Harry exclaims. “You’re killing me.”

“Sorry, superstar, nobody is exempt from special treatment here.” You roll your eyes at yourself, what the fuck are you even saying.

“Mkay, you’re good.”

Harry spins around, eyes taking in your new outfit.

On top of your shorts was a giant Stevie Nicks shirt, one from her White Winged Dove tour.

“Shit, you might be a bigger Stevie fan than I am, and that’s saying a lot.”

“Fuck, you have no idea. My dad went to the fucking final show of this tour and met my mom in the crowd during Dreams. My mom made him play it when I was born because she swore Stevie brought me to them.”

You catch him staring at you and turn your head away, cheeks burning because you’re rambling and need to shut the fuck up.

He clears his throat and takes a breath before starting.

“Promise not to kill me when I tell you this?”

Holding your hand to your burning cheeks, you murmur,

“No.”

“Y/N!” Harry exclaims, finally coming in the van to tickle you.

“Okay, okay, I promise not to kill you,” You mock, waving your hands around.

“I was lucky enough to sing one of my songs with her along with Landslide and Leather and Lace.”

You drop your bag onto the ground as your jaw drops.

“Shut up. I don’t believe you.” You cross your arms over chest. “I don’t know if I’d be angrier if you’re lying or if it actually happened. Holy shit am I jealous.”

“Oh, I was crying onstage, losing my shit. She is, everything. Dreams was the first song I learned the words to, yknow? She truly is a magical being.”

“God. I’m definitely looking you up later because who the fuck sings one of THEIR songs with Stevie Nicks.” You sigh, leaning over to grab your bag and Doc Martens.

“Oh god.” Harry laughs, running a hand through his hair again, looking at you really intensely for a second.

“Not to sound like a dick, but do you really not know who I am?”

“I mean if you need your ego boosted I can lie?” You offer, before dropping the witty responses.

“But no, sorry. Like I said, I just.... don’t really listen to new music, and if I do it’s always my friends or some indie shit with an overused beat.” Harry laughs at that and you smile, yes, he’s not weirded out.

“Don’t apologize, please. I just, can’t be too sure, yknow? People like to use you, especially here. And you’re just a little too perfect to be true,” he sighs, pulling you closer to him by your waist.

Placing you hands on his chest, you look at him for a second before leaning forward and whisper in his ear,

“My tattoo awaits me, baby. Let’s go.”

He groans and leans his head on your shoulder, before letting you go and grabbing your bag for you.

Such a gentleman, you think to yourself, locking up Sunflower.

“Does your car have a cool name?” You ask, after buckling you, fingertips appreciating the rich black leather seat.

“Nope, but I’m good at nicknames. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say normal terms of endearment aren’t your thing?” He asks, making eye contact with you for a quick second as he puts his arm behind your seat before stretching slightly to look behind him as he pulls puts the car in reverse.

Looking up for a quick second, you remind yourself to breathe.

“You would be correct. Gotta use your brain if you wanna get me all jittery,” you tease, fanning yourself over exaggeratedly.

He gives you a side eye and smirks at you, popping a piece of gum in his mouth and raising his eyebrows, as if to say, game on.

“So where am I going?” He asks, starting to drive away from your special spot.

“Let us ask the oracle!” You hold out your phone like a trophy, before laughing to yourself and bringing up Google Maps.

Propping your phone up in the cupholder, you sit cross legged in just your socks in his seat, fidgeting with your hands for a second.

“I’m kind of intrigued on who you are now. What’s your story?” You ask, turning your head to look at him.

Harry glances over at you, eyes drifting to your bare legs for a second.

“Well, the short version, I guess, is I grew up in a little town in England with my mum and my sister, applied to X-Factor when I was 16, got put into a band called One Direction with four other lads, released couple albums with them until end of 2015. Then did a movie called Dunkirk, wrote and released my first solo album, and toured it. Just got back from tour about a month ago, actually.”

You look at him blankly for a second, and he shifts in his seat, removing one of his hands from the wheel to place it on the armrest.

“Holy SHIT am I unaccomplished,” you exclaim, hitting him in the chest.

“Hey!” he yells, but you cut him off.

“How many fucking albums is a couple? And how old are you, my god. That is impressive.”

“I’m 24, that probably should’ve been said before we’re alone in a car together. And 5 albums, in 5 years. Nearly killed us.”

“I’m 22. Damn, dude, that’s insane. It sounds like they horribly overworked you and I am hoping you were generously compensated and had a bit of musical freedom. I know how the music industry can be with boy bands.”

He nods for a second, licking his lips slightly, trying to figure out how to phrase his response.

“I’m not going to lie, there are some definite perks and I am so incredibly lucky to just be able to do what I love as my job.” His fingers find their way to his bottom lip, pinching it slightly. “It was fun, I mean, you throw a bunch of teenagers together and give them celebrity status? We were insane, and I enjoyed it. But.... it felt like I wasn’t a person anymore. I was just ‘Harry Styles from the boyband One Direction’.”

“I don’t necessarily understand but I think the fact that you came out this respectful and real says something. You seem to have your shit properly together, and, even if you don’t, you got back from tour two months ago! You deserve some relaxation. The world’s happy to wait for you to find yourself a little.”

Pausing for a second, you place your hand on his arm, squeezing it lightly before swearing,

“I hope you know I’m being genuine about not knowing you and latching on for fame. I’ll let your parents know my intentions with their son are all very pure.”

He laughs at that, glancing at you again,

“I appreciate you saying that. This life is wonderful, like I said, but it’s very stressful and puts pressure on every relationship. There’s always going to be stories or photos and rumors spread like wildfire.”

You shift in your seat, understanding that this was a very serious issue for him.

“Listen, I’ll let you know up front that that doesn’t bother me. I’ve dated musicians and know the life, I get it. I think you’re cool and that we could have a fun time experiencing real life together. But before we do that, you need to have fun and let everything the fuck GO. I’ll promise you right now, if you let me stick around, you’ll experience what life is. No fame or pining for success bullshit, no offense, but there’s no need for it. If you’re happy doing what you’re doing, no one can tell you you’re not successful.” Harry stops the car at a red light and fully turns to look at you.

He exhales harshly before grinning. “You are a breath of fresh fucking air, Y/N. I think you’re going to change my life, if I’m being honest here.”

“Here’s hoping,” you grin.

A/N: THE OFFICIAL FIRST CHAPTER IS UP !!! I’m hoping you guys will come to love this fic as much as I do. I’ll try to find a writing schedule that works with you guys and my work schedule, so sorry if chapters take a little bit to come up. This is going to be a looooong fic, so buckle up, turn that old lover’s hippie music on, and enjoy !!

- lana <3

[peantbutter-honeycombs]

The Hollowing Series: Part II

Title: The Boy and His Companion

Word count: 3,339

Characters: The 11th Doctor, Amy Pond, ocs

Warnings: Platonic fic not romantic.

Notes: Originally the story was going to be completely told from the point of Sophia but after a few drafts I decided it should follow Oliver. My college friend who sometimes beta reads my work used to hate the boy but now she likes him. He used to be mean and dismissive toward Sophia but clearly I changed things. Even I quite like his character now.

Speacial Thanks to @underskaro for beta reading this chapter. I know your busy and this really meant a lot to me. So thank so much.

Figured I tag @mirkwoodshewolf because they kindly edited the first chapter and I want them to know I finally got around to the second.

———

The rain had ceased, leaving a heavy blanket of grey white on the hills. It hugged the rain-soaked ground, dancing around each of the kid’s heels. The late day fog controlled the landscape, making it blur in the same way as the opening credits of Mary Poppins.

The entire walk home, the two walked in silence. Oliver, in one hand, held the middle bar of the bright green trike. The metal was ice in his palm. He gripped the bar so tight his knuckles were turning a ghostly shade of white. He held Sophia’s hand in the other, though not nearly as tight. However, still tight enough to make the little girl uneasy.

Sophia would have “said” something if it wasn’t so woefully clear Oliver was cross. His soulful hickory eyes were hard as stone. Instead of their usual boyish spark, there lingered a disdainful flicker. She could swear he was muttering something bitter. Now and then she’d fear a foul word, he’d probably later scold himself for saying.

Whoooooooooo.

He stopped, eyes narrowing. He took a deep, rather stiff breath and sharply exhaled through his nostrils. Adrenaline surged through his system so fast he felt it burn a path through his veins. He spun around, pulling Sophia behind him. Oliver had a glacially callous glare on his face, eyes fixed on the horizon.

The wind tore at the collar of his slicker, and his damp mess of blonde curls. Their surroundings were clouded, hidden, shrouded by the thick veil of fog. Oliver stood silently, the only sound coming from the ferocious flapping of his jacket. He scanned the stretch with the careful eye of a concerned mother.

The fog is not the mist. The fog is not the mist.

The second they arrived home, Oliver condemned Sophia to the time-out chair. She quietly settled in on the stool, positioned in the far corner of the dead end down stairs corridor, without protest. It was an older item. The hand carved mahogany always felt stiff on her bum. But she thought it better not to whine.

Oliver, he sat alone in the living room. A damp, worn out mess of a human being. He tiredly sunk into the couch. He ignored the clammy feeling of his rain-soaked clothes. He completely collapsed across the cushions. Every muscle in his body just surrendered to gravity. He could feel the tiredness pressing on his chest, weighing him down, draining his energy, exhausting his patience.

Why would she think?… Especially now. He rolled off his side onto his back and focused his eyes on the ceiling. She can’t just… Ugh!

He brought a pillow to his face and screamed.

The seconds ticked away into minutes; in the isolation of the sitting room, Oliver let the world around him fade into silence. The minutes ticked into half an hour; Sophia absentmindedly twiddled her thumbs, humming a familiar song in the back of her head; Oliver had been awake for sixteen hours. His consciousness was grasping at straws.

One sniff and Oliver’s eyes are open. He rolled on to his side. Immediately his face fell into irritation. Oliver locked eyes with a familiar pair mere inches from his face.

“I’m not done with timeout. Go back.”

Sophia blinked, processing the instructions she’d just been given. Her eyes darted around, searching his face for any traces of sarcasm or falsehood. Nothing.

Sophia lightly pecks his cheek in the sloppy little kid way. It left a little wet mark, one he’d wipe away once she’d left the room. Oliver chuckles softly, carefully bumping his forehead against Sophia’s. The little ginge giggled, stumbling back, whilst raising a palm to where her temple had been nudged.

“Ten minutes?”

Sophia nods and politely shuffles off.

The landscape blurred, clouded, the fog lingered hovering above the cool streams and the crowned hills. The brilliant greens and vibrant patches of rich wildflower were poking through the fleeting fog. Soon the sun would begin its descent. Lowering, lowering until it was nothing more than a single sliver of gold vanishing on the horizon.

Eyes closed, arms folded over his chest, which rhythmically rose and fell with each dozy intake of breath, Oliver laid quietly on the couch. The father clock at the top of the stairs ticked, the pendulum swung from side to side. Quarter till four, it read.

Sophia sat in her timeout chair, continuing to hum her melodic tune. In these moments of boredom with no toys to play, no stuffy to “talk” to and no Ollie to cling to, all Sophia could do was wait. She sighed, blowing up a long strand of hair that kept dipping, falling between her eyes.

Oliver stuck his head through the white Tudor arch way that separated the sitting room and entryway corridor. Sophia, having somehow positioned herself upside down on the small stool, gave the boy a dopey smile.

Oliver rolled his eyes, pulling at the fabric of his shirt.

“Hey Soph a loaf,” Oliver softly sing-songed, sitting against the wall directly beside the timeout spot. Being upside down, her auburn hair fell in waves suspended centimetres above the rough and stained planks. She was holding her shirt down, preventing it from exposing her stomach.

“You… Wanna make a pillow fort?”

The quiet of the house is shattered by Sophia, letting out a blaring squeal. In moments she somersaults off the bench, landing clumsily on the floor. She’s up on her feet in a heartbeat, bouncing, squealing, stomping.

Oliver chuckles lightly. “Sophia, Sophia, Sophia.”

Sophia poked her head through the arch at the call of her name.

Sophia whined, tilting her head as if to ask ‘what?’

“Nothing. Just… love you Soph a loaf. Lots and lots.”

The pillow fort took longer than expected, given that they both took the construction of fort building oh so seriously. They rushed through putting on their pjs, then moved on to making dinner. No one could tell them not to eat under the bedclothes.

“You can’t put peanut butter on grilled cheese!”

Just as it did every day, the sun set. The shadows of the trees and the aging building stretched up the hills, as the golden ball of orangish yellow began its descent.

Beneath navy blue blankets, patterned with rocket ships and sea creature stickers, sat the two children. Oliver had built much of the fort; Borrowing cushions, towels and blankets from around the house. While Sophia had eagerly decorated their cloth kingdom; twinkle lights, stickers, and scribbled drawings decorated the walls and ceilings.

“So her dad was killed-- Ow. By the same agent trying to recruit her?"

Cuddled firmly against his side was Sophia, her body glued against his similar to Double Pops. Every time she moved, her knees or feet would buck, nailing Oliver in the ribs or hip. He had an arm wrapped around her neck, functioning as both a pillow for her head, and one support for the tablet he was holding.

“That’s quite coinc-- Ow! Sophia!”

Sophia bit the edge of her lip, trying to contain her giggles. Her giggle was a violin playing the open string G (Sol), alluring and dulcet. Considering she burst into a mini giggle fit with each jab, Oliver’s face crumpled like a discarded wad of paper.

He could feel Sophia wiggling against him. Her legs squirmed in a boyishly wild fashion. Her knees curved, beating him in the ribs.

“Ow!" Oliver sat up.

“Okay.” He inhaled sharply. His body was stiff from high levels of irritation. Sophia calmed herself, gently curling her toes. Her brown eyes followed Oliver’s movements, becoming larger, curious.

“Sophia, do you have to use the toilet?”

Sophia drew in her lip. She bent her knees, so she grabbed her toes. She stared, thinking hard. He watched as her face became still, eyes blinking frenziedly. Within fifteen seconds, she nodded.

“Let’s go then.” He stood, helping Sophia up.

He crawled out of the fort’s entry tunnel, it was barely big enough for him to squeeze through. They’d run low on pillows, while building some part of the structure had to be sacrificed.

He heard the soft scuffling of sock padded feet against the old wooden floor. “Sophia?” He looked back over his shoulder, realising Sophia was making more noise than necessary.

“No! Soph, you’re not bringing a blanket to the loo.”

“We lay my love and I…” Oliver sang.

Oliver sat on the third step of the stairs. Beating his hands against his thighs. He was a child. His rigid posture had been replaced by a chill slouch. Sophia had taken her time correcting the blanket as she shifted. She was just now clambering out of the blanket fort.

“Beneath the weeping willow…”

Sophia shuffled past him into the next room, across the corridor from the sitting room. As she passed, Oliver gently took hold of the back of her shirt. Sophia backtracked, then turned on her heels to face him. Oliver had a focused look, his eyes fixated on the ginger like a surgeon during brain surgery.

“Sophia. Where are you going?” He asked.

Sophia wrinkled her nose, pointing in every direction. Oliver simply rolled his eyes.

“Then go find your sweater.” He instructed. Sophia points to the room she was headed toward. “No. It’s not in the drawing room. You left it in my room. Upstairs.”

Sophia let out a pout huff, making Oliver chuckle. She looked past him at the stairs, eyes narrowing to a thin line. Nonetheless, she began her slow ascent upwards. A downside of wooden stairs. If you’re not wearing shoes, instead socks, it's easy to slip. Her sock covered feet slipped and slid, making her ascent up the stairs look clumsy.

“One foot in front of the other.” Oliver teased. Sophia, her face only inches from his ear, blew a spitty raspberry. With the satisfying feeling of retaliation, Sophia pressed on.

“Remember to use the toilet.” Oliver reminded, wiping the flecks of spit from the side of his face.

Oliver patted his thighs and then stood. Standing rather motionless, in his sharp black and orange KTM Factory pyjamas, he distinguished himself amongst the rustic clutter of the foyer. After a moment of stillness, he leapt from the third step, landing on the floor with a hard thud. He resets himself, brushing a hand through his mop top of dirty honey blonde hair.

He wanders around the corridor, gently running his fingers across the wall, over the knickknacks and along the edges of the chair rail.

"But now alone I lie..." he quietly sang, “...And weep beside the tree...”

The house was old. Ancient. It looked like it had been plucked from an autumn-aphile's Pinterest board. Time had been kind to the country home. While the creepers crept along the worn grey cobbles, the inside was a monument to times long gone by.

Thump, thump, thump.

Sophia. She was moving around upstairs.

His mother was a collector. Her husband called her a hoarder. She called herself a dreamer. She was a traveller. When she had been young, before the children, she'd seen the world collecting baubles and knickknacks that now cluttered the home.

Thump, thu, thu, thum.

"Your feet aren't drums!"

A single overhanging lamp dimly illuminated the foyer, mirroring the glow of candle light. Their neighbour had once asked why they didn’t store all their tchotchkes away in the shed. Stacks of completed books left careless about rough wood carvings from around, antique finds nestled beneath blankets of dust, dried flowers, and colourful drawings from Oliver’s younger days.

Thump, thu, thu, thum.

The house, so full of things. Some would shudder at the chaos of it all, others would be queasy because of claustrophobia, and rest would be quietly fascinated.

Oliver stood himself in front of Credenza, pushed up against the left wall. He eyed the reflection staring at him through the distressed mirror mounted about mahogany sideboard.

He’d forgotten a lot rather recently. Thirteen. He’s thirteen. His eyes are a weak shade of brown, not like Sophia’s, the colour of almond coffee. His dirty blonde hair softly curled and tucked, just barely overhanging his sunken eyes.

Thump, thu, thu, thum.

“Singing ‘Oh willow waly’…” he sang, “… by the tree that weeps with me.”

Oliver retreated, leaning against the sloping stair posts. He checked the clock hanging above the front door. Four minutes had passed since Sophia had gone upstairs. Standing there with nothing to do but listen to the creaky footsteps from above.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

“Singing—”

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

His nerves abandon him quickly. His breathing becomes shallow and erratic. He couldn’t hear his rapid breathing, the chaotic beat of his heart dominated. His fingers curl into a fist, nails piercing the tender skin of his palm.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

His eyes dart to the clock. 6:11.

It’s as if his hidden sixth or seventh sense activates. Every tick of the clock is a threat, every creak of a floorboard is a risk. His fingers twitched as he defensively moved toward the door. His body stiffens, trying to shut him down before he can reach the front door. He keeps moving.

His hands tremble and his skin becomes rough with goosebumps as he reaches towards the door handle grip.

No one knocks. No one could would.

He grips the handle tightly thumb pressed on the thumb-place, the metal would surely leave a mark on his palm. He finds it hard to swallow, lungs betraying him. Slowly he presses down on the thumb-place, pulling on the handle.

“Hello!”

Oliver’s blood ran cold. He tightened his jaw.

“You followed us?” Oliver murmured. His grip on the door handle tightened, to where he could feel the cool metal dig into his palm. Standing square, shoulders defensively strained back, he felt a knot forming in the back of his throat. Fear sat quietly, waiting like a vulture, ready to claim him.

“You followed us home?” His eyes darted to the Moors, where a small cloud of mist was slowly forming. He wasn’t quite scared. His eyes showed more of a wary concern. After all, he was all that stood between two mysterious strangers and his world.

“Yes. We did.” As he spoke, Oliver observed the Doctor with slight aversion. When he spoke, he’d move his hands about. A little unnerving. Still Oliver held his ground, preventing the Doctor, still a stranger, from entering his home. “We have some questions…”

“Questions?”

Thump, thump, thump.

That’s when Oliver jumps. A pump of adrenaline surged through his system almost triggering his flight or fight instinct. Without his support “system”, it would have been flight. Oliver shook his head, pushing down his panic.

Thump, thump, thump.

He was the barrier between his world and trespassers. A wave of boldness washed through him, demanding he be bold and shielding. However, a light gust of embarrassment from his jump made his cheeks glow.

“You-- you have questions?” he stammered.

The Doctor seemed to take this as an invitation. He moved to enter the cobblestone house. Oliver slammed a hand across to the other side of the door frame, so he couldn’t enter.

The Doctor’s brows pressed together, his shoulders slumped, and his mouth hung slightly open and loose. His expression gave way to his confusion. A hard stone glare carved into Oliver’s tired eyes. A warning. The doctor took heed and took a careful step back.

His lighthearted manner returned within seconds.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m the Doctor, this is my friend Amy. What’s your name?” He asked as he extended a hand out for Oliver.

Oliver shook his head, smiling a little, as he gently pushed the Doctor’s hand down and said.

“Can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

Just because someone introduces themselves, they aren’t any less of a stranger. Though most of what he observed of the Doctor seemed safe, suspicion and caution still governed his mind. He’d be more trusting in different circumstances. But there weren’t many people worth trusting, at least not anymore.

“You’re still a stranger.”

The Doctor nods, scratching at his chin. “Fair enough.” Something about the grown man’s cluelessness. The right corner of Oliver’s lip twitched, threatening to curve upward. He started gesticulating again, moving his hands about as he spoke. “Answer me this then where is everyone else?”

His brain stuttered for a moment, his face fell, and the blood drained from his face, leaving him as pale as a sheet. He recomposed himself, adopting a more stoic expression.

“Home,” his tone was cold, cold as ice.

“Home?”

The Doctor observes Oliver’s shift in manner with calculative eyes. He leans back, arching a brow. Oliver only nods in response. However, he could see it. The Doctor could see it, the fear trying to hide in the corners of the blonde child’s eyes.

He’d figure that out later, for now…

“Tell me, why should we be wary of the mist?”

Oliver scratched the back of his head. His eyes struggled to focus on one point. Again, they settled on the Moors. His stomach twisted and sunk with his nerves, as he gripped the fabric of his shirt tightly, wrapping it around his hand.

“Hard to see, you could get lost.”

The Doctor squatted, so that his eyes were level with Oliver’s. He carefully studied Oliver’s face as he lowered his mouth. He went to speak, but Amy, she spoke first.

“Have people gotten lost?”

Thud.

This time his muscles become tense. “I-- I better get inside,” he stammered, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder. His unsettled eyes shift down to the ground, avoiding the watchful looks of the Doctor and his companion. Oliver cleared his throat and then croaked out.

“You should get back home, before it’s too late.”

Without another word, he shut the door, leaving the Doctor and Amy in the chill of dusk.

Oliver was silent as he fell back against the front door. The tick of the grandfather clock at the top of the stairs felt louder than before. As the full realisation of his conversation sank in, he ran his hands down his face. A loud groan of frustration flowed past his lips.

It’s foolish to trust, he reminded himself, for no one knows what the mist does hide.

A small whine snapped him out of his stupor. He immediately stood. Sophia stood one step from the top of the stairs. She wore a puzzled expression. Oliver rolled his eyes, his brows creased, and he put on a fake smile.

“It was no one,” he lied, dismissively waving a hand in the air. Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “It was no one Sophia, leave it alone.” He insisted, trying to laugh the matter off.

“Now, I have some work to finish.” He said as he moved toward the drawing room. As far as he was concerned, the matter of who was at the door was finished. His mouth twitched into a genuine smile, and his tone softened. “If you’d like, you can color at the desk while I work.”

Sophia shook her head, gesturing with an arm toward the entire upstairs. “No? Just going to play in the upstairs?” He asked. She nodded, making her ginger tresses bounce. “By yourself? Are you sure?” The way her one dimple crinkled, the shifting of her freckles, gave him his answer.

“Fine, have fun, bed in an hour.” Oliver brushed his fingers through his hair, strolling into the drawing room.

Sophia brought a hand to her mouth, then blew him a sloppy kiss. Hearing the noise of the peck from the other side of the archway, Oliver bent an arm back through the doorway to catch it. He cast his head back through the opening, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“Love you too Soph a loaf. Lots and lots.” he gently laughed. “You be good,” he reminded moving into the drawing room.

“And Sophia,” His tone became serious, and resigned. “Let's stay out of the master room.”