#like telling me stuff about his husband or how he used to go drinking and stuff and its not like

[capfalcon]

my manager is a gay semi very supportive dude but i still!!!! hate! him lmao

dont rb

[dante-mightdie]

A small req? Wheree we're a milf and our incel son eventually joins the military (you choose if he joins the military or meets at a bar I ain't gaf) and meets Ghost, 141 whatever. He brings Ghost home to his basement room(or the 141 bb do whatever you want) and ghost is surprised n shi that we this incel momma when we com with snacks or something like 'get outta here mom you're embarrassing me Infront of my new friends!" Is our sons reaction or sum. And ghostie pookie excuses himself up to the bathroom to sloppily makeout with us 🥺

nobody look at me i’m foaming at the mouth

c/w: simon is kinda strange but in a weird sexy way, mentions of misogyny, talks of sex must no actual smut, housewife kink kinda

it’s no secret that your son is a nasty little misogynistic shit. everyone on base has had the experience of standing next to him on a night as out when he gets a drink thrown in his face by whatever girl is he was chatting to

they’d been there every time he dogs out in front of everyone when you visit him on base. watching your eyes well up when your son tells you that he doesn’t like your new haircut or dress, that you’re too old to wear stuff like that

simon tried not to judge, appearances can be deceiving. perhaps you’re not all smiles and baked goods, maybe you’re an awful mother behind the scenes. he really tried. until he found out the real reason your son treats you like shit…

“she made my dad leave. he told me after they divorced that she wasn’t giving him what he needed, that’s why he had to go and get it somewhere else.” your son finally admitted one night after going through half case of beer

simon felt his hand tighten around his bottle as your son continued to ramble about how you were always busy with shit jobs. waitressing, cleaning or retail. he spent most of his childhood never getting all the latest toys and clothes because you could never afford it, too busy catching up on late bills to make sure there was a roof over both of your heads

“she’s so selfish.”

‘fuck being non-judgmental’ simon thinks. this kid doesn’t know how lucky he is. having a such a lovely mum like you, never losing your patience with your son even when he treats you like dirt. always trying to greet him with a hug or kiss just for him to push you away. begging him to call when he’s away just so you can know your boy is safe :(

“sounds like your mad at your mum for being the one that stuck around, lad.” price buts in, shaking his head with a small laugh.

you had been a topic of discussion the night after your first visit to the base. the product of a few glasses of bourbon shared between simon and john

“did you see the new recruits mother? fuckin’ hell, if I were 10 years younger I’d be all over that.” price admitted, adjusting his hips as he leaned back in his desk chair. simon let out a small grunt of agreement, having thought about this since he first laid eyes on you

simon had come to the conclusion that you both just needed a good man in your life. your son needed a father figure that would actually stick around, he could tell by the way your son looks up to him and the captain, eager to impress them

and you. oh, you. with your sweet, simple dresses and adoring smile. simon wishes you’d smile at him like that. all that cooking that your son lets go to waste could go to him instead. you could cook his favourite dinners for him and take care of his house whilst he’s away at work, whipping the boy into shape. teaching him every thing that your sack of shit ex-husband clearly didn’t

he’d be so good to you too. he knows it’s been a while since you’ve had a man to take care of your needs. he sees the way you nearly drool as you watch him running laps around the field, tatted arms on display. he’d spit you open so nicely on his cock and he knows you’d take him so well too, your pretty cunt would he creaming all over him

he soon takes advantage of this knowledge, subtly convincing your son to invite him over to your home on leave. dropping some story about how his flat is getting some work done and that he only lives 20 minutes from you both. your son was quick to offer the lieutenant a place to stay, telling him that he could take your room. that you could sleep on the couch for a couple weeks.

‘we’ll share the bed.’ simon thinks, but he doesn’t dare say it to your sons face. can’t have this little brat meddling with his plan

his arrival is clearly a surprise to you from the way you rush about shortly afterwards to start scrubbing the house top to bottom, rattling off apologies about the state of everything. simon quickly shuts down any offer of him taking your bedroom

“keep your bed, love. I’ll take the sofa.” he grumbles, sipping the tea that you made for him whilst your son rolls his eyes from the other side of the kitchen

he can see the way your eyes look at him with this longing. he knows it won’t take much to get you into bed. poor thing that hasn’t had anyone to look after her for years

he spends the next few days proving to you that he can provide. helping you carry anything heavy, drying the dishes after you’ve watched them, fixing the handy jobs around the house

you’re constantly praising him, focusing your love and attention towards him instead of your ungrateful son and the boy hates it. which is just the cherry on top, simon thinks

“your mother is so lucky to have a son like you. you must help her around the house all the time!” you coo, fidgeting with your skirt

“my mum passed away… jus’ me left out of the whole family.” simon admits, solemnly

“you poor thing, I’m so sorry. you’re welcome here anytime…” you gasp softly, placing your delicate hand on his arm and squeezing the muscle of his bicep gently and simon is ashamed to say it made his cock twitch against his thigh

“thank you, sweetheart… such a lovely girl, aren’t you?” he smiles behind his mask, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your waist. he pulls you against him, putting one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he hoists you up onto the kitchen counter

he squeezes his large frame inbetween your spread legs, leaning forward to look into your widened eyes

“been so good to me, love. taking care of me. such a good mum to your son, ya just need a good man to be a wife to, don’t you?” he says, pushing your skirt up your lap and revealing your thighs to him

he feels your thighs squeeze his waist, an aroused reaction from you. your body slumps into his with a natural submission that makes his cock ache. he lowers his hand and hooks his mask over his nose, revealing the scar running over his lip

“s’alright, darling. ‘m here to look after you now. me, you and the boy will be a nice happy family, yeah?” he says with a small smirk. leaning forward to mould his lips against yours before you can answer

he hears the little whimper you let out as you kiss him back, a little sloppy and inexperienced from years of being single, too busy with your son and work to date

but that’s okay because simon’s here now. ready to claim his family.

[kxsalt]

An evening of laughter over dinner. The young lady sits at the table with a couple, sharing wine and stories. Ever since the pair had moved back into the city, she had quickly grown very close to her friend and her new husband. From the first time she saw them together, the single girl thought they were a perfect couple. She watches them share a kiss with a pang of jealousy and another emotion her inexperienced soul can’t quite describe yet.

A week later the girl rides the train home after a terrible date. The woman had no romantic intentions and was only interested in selling health supplements. Already exhausted, she opens her dating app to see a hundred shirtless men holding fish. She closes it again with a frustrated grunt. The girl arrives at her station and starts to make her way through the crowd.

Up ahead, in the throng of people, she spots her newlywed friend. Her heart jumps, and she pushes through the mob to try and get close to her. I can’t wait to tell her about my horrible date. Maybe she’ll want to hear about it over dinner again. That unfamiliar feeling returns. Getting closer, her friend steps out of the human traffic, standing with a man she doesn’t recognize. The girl is only a few metres away, but invisible among the other passengers.

She watches her friend pull the strange man in for a kiss.

Disbelieving her own eyes, the girl freezes. Even as annoyed people bump into her, she watches, mouth agape as the married woman makes out with the stranger.

What am I seeing. I must be crazy. She wouldn’t cheat on him, they’re both perfect… for each other. I must have this person mistaken for my friend.

The kiss breaks and the woman laughs. A laugh as unique as a fingerprint. The girl sees every detail of her smile.

Oh god, it is her. Why me? What am I going to do?

She returns to her empty apartment, feeling strangely heartbroken. Her husband is an amazing man, doesn’t he deserve to know? Is it none of my business? How could she do this? The next few days are torment. Wracked with guilt from her involuntary secret, she decides to take the unenviable step of telling him about his wife’s infidelity. I have to. It would hurt him more if I didn’t tell him. And it would help her in the end. That unfamiliar feeling cracks through her fear.

Arriving at the couple’s home, the girl feels like she’s going to have a heart attack. Welcoming her in, the married man makes her a cup of tea. The girl is obviously distraught, and he tries his best to calm her down so she can talk. A word salad spills from her mouth, and she starts to cry as she explains what she saw. The man’s face falls as the girl becomes more overwrought. She finishes her story, looking at his soft, compassionate expression.

“I am so sorry that you saw that. I can see how upsetting this is to you. We were always worried that something like this would happen. I’m sorry it was you.”

The girl stops crying, disoriented by his response. She expected him to be angry, or sad, or devastated. But his only concern is for her. He doesn’t seem hurt in the slightest. The man brings her some tissues and encourages her to drink her tea. Sitting down beside her on the couch, he gently starts to explain.

“When we first started dating, we were seeing other people, too. It kind of just… never stopped. We felt comfortable with it, and we knew we wanted to be with each other… It’s changed a lot over the years. When we became official, we would give each other passes, for a date or a night of fun. Always equal. We agree on a pass, we each hook up with someone, and then we come back together. I know it’s unusual, but it works for us.”

The girl is bewildered by his explanation. He continues:

“When we got married, we knew it would change again. We both want to settle down, find a different way for us to do stuff like this without chasing random people. Actually, this pass is supposed to be the last time... Like that at least. I’m so sorry that you got so upset by what we’re doing. You’re a good friend, I know you care about both of us so much. I can see how that would terrify you.”

Her head swims, she stares at the wall. The adrenaline of her mission has worn off, replaced by confusion and embarrassment. He calls his wife and asks her to come home early, so they can explain everything together. A half hour later, she rushes through the door and envelops the young girl in a big hug. The couple holds hands while they answer her questions. The girl relaxes. Her heart warms when she sees them kiss, confirmation of their love.

Feeling as if she has intruded enough, she gets ready to leave. Excusing herself to the bathroom before she goes, the girl sits on the toilet pondering the night’s conversation.

Out of all the possible outcomes, this is the best I could have hoped for. She washes her hands. The best I could realistically hope for. The girl is confused by her own line of thinking. Anything better would be impossible. She dries her hands. What else could I wish for? The girl stares at herself in the mirror, that strange new feeling wells up inside of her, stronger than ever before.

Leaving the bathroom, she finds her friend waiting for her.

“Thank you for being so understanding… I know it’s a lot. I know you came here because you wanted what was best for us, even though it was scary. I admire that. He admires that. You’re a good friend.”

“Thanks, I’m sorry I got so far up in your business… Good luck now that you’re through the ‘giving out passes’ phase. I hope whatever you two do together brings you closer together.”

“Oh, well, we’re not quite done with the pass thing yet.” She subtly points into the living room. “He hasn’t used his pass yet.”

“Ah, well, if I see him with a girl I won’t come crying to you. Haha.”

“Haha, yeah. I mean he could use it with whoever he wanted to. That’s how it works.”

“Right, you explained that earlier.”

An awkward pause drags through the conversation.

“Do you want to stay for dinner tonight?”

“I feel like I already overstayed my welcome.”

“You haven’t. I feel like we should make it up to you.”

“Uh, maybe? I don’t know.”

“I want you to fuck my husband.”

The conversation screeches to a halt. The girl stares at her friend, dumbfounded. They start to talk over one another. You don’t think I’ve been trying to sleep with him, do you? No, I just thought you might like to try it. I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble. It’s no trouble. Wouldn’t it be weird? I don’t think so. Does he even want to? He’s brought it up before. Isn’t that weird? I brought it up first. I’m wearing ugly underwear. I could let you borrow something.

“I’m afraid it would feel like cheating.”

“I could watch, to support you. So you know it’s okay.”

The young lady’s heart almost leaps from her chest. Why did that convince me? At a loss for words, she nods her head.

Standing naked in the couple’s bedroom, she paws through her friend’s clothing. A mixture of fear and excitement whirs though her mind. Taking out a tiny pink thong, she slips it on and steps in front of the mirror. Her familiar emotions mix with the unfamiliar ones. Why does it feel so hot, wearing her lingerie?

A knock at the door, her friend enters. “You look beautiful.” The young girl blushes unexpectedly at the compliment. “My husband will love you. Are you ready?” Another emotion, another nod, more confident this time. She summons her husband.

He gives her a kind smile as he walks into the room. A loving peck on his partner’s cheek, and the man steps towards the new girl. His arms wrap around her waist and their lips touch. They surprise each other with a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongues flirt, their noses rub, their hands roam. His kisses work down her cheek, and into her neck. The girl gasps and looks over to his wife. Relief and joy as she sees her gorgeous smile. His wife’s lips move, whispering. Keep going.

Eager to please them, she reaches down to feel his cock bulge in his pants. The man groans and returns the favour, grasping her wet pussy through the skimpy thong. They touch each other, faster and faster, kissing open and free. She unzips his pants and starts to stroke his cock. He lifts up his shirt so she can see him. His body looks better than I ever imagined.

Dropping to her knees, she takes him in her mouth. The faint taste of his precum overpowers her senses. Fingering herself wildly through her friend’s tiny underwear, the girl does everything she can to make him feel good. Glancing over at his wife, she sees her rubbing her bare pussy. She’s lifted up her dress to touch her breasts, too. Her body looks better than I ever imagined.

The trio are thoroughly excited. Nobody can wait for what comes next. He lifts the girl up and tosses her onto the bed. She spreads her legs and pulls the thong to the side. The husband pushes her legs up against her chest. “Oh god, it looks so good.” The wife chimes from her spot in the corner. He rubs his hard cock against her exposed pussy. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

The tip, the head, half way, all the way. There’s no going back now. The married man’s cock stretches out the single girl’s pussy, and they exhale. Enjoying the warmth of his wife’s friend’s body, he starts to stroke his cock in and out of her. The girl trembles, getting used to his size. The wife gasps, rubbing her clit as fast as she can. They fuck each other, making out while the tension releases. The girl is overwhelmed by pleasure and excitement. She starts to encourage her friend.

“Your husband’s cock is so big! Ah~! It’s so good! Ah~! So big… Ah~! Your husband is fucking me so… Ah~! Good!”

“You like that, you dirty little slut?”

“Yes, I love it.”

The couple on the bed roll over. The girl takes his hands and puts them on her ass. A firm grip, and he pulls on her bumcheeks. So he can get deeper. So she can see every inch enter her. She bounces on his dick, thrilled at the thought of how little her friend’s thong is hiding. She feels her orgasm build inside of her. Quickening her pace, the girl will finish soon.

The sounds of a woman cumming fill the room. The couple look over at the wife, helplessly masturbating as she fingers herself to completion. They look back to each other, grinning. “Now it’s my turn…” The girl giggles, playing with her clit while his strong hands pull her up and down on his cock. They kiss passionately again. The girl cums on his married dick, picking up where his wife left off. Pushed over the edge by their chorus, he fills her sweet pussy.

They lie there for what could be an hour, could be a few minutes. The girl slowly climbs off of him, and walks past his wife, also basking in the glow of her orgasm. She heads down the hall, back to the bathroom, to wash up after their encounter. Looking at herself in the mirror again, her unfamiliar feelings beat in her chest. An epiphany strikes her. Like a ray of light through the clouds, she understands herself.

Stepping back into the hallway, his wife is waiting for her again.

“I really, really, enjoyed that… I hope you did, too.”

“It was almost perfect.”

The girl walks up to her. She wraps her hands around her waist. Their lips meet, they kiss. They push back into each other, letting the taste of their first embrace waft through them.

Their fingers touch. Holding hands, tugging lightly, they walk each other back to the bedroom.

[yourplasticlittlespastic]

Ooof, Benedict with a breeding kink? Bestie, thats SO TRUE! If you have more on this, please please please share

Bestie this goes for you nasty <3 - Part of the E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ Series

To be Here

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader

Warnings: +18 topics, very explicit imagery stuff

Notes: More of married life! Solid storyline but with nasty stuff too. I am already making a general Maserlist and this story's ML. Thank you for reading! Who is ready to see Benny baby heartbroken bc of Tilly Arnold? Don't worry, Sophie is coming!!

WC: 5.7K

Taglist: @fallout-girl219 @ravenwtfbro @thorins-queen-of-erebor @dollarstore-lydia-deetz @mmmunson

Benedict often thought about how he reached this point in his life. It seemed only yesterday he was a rebel of society's rules, a hedonistic gentleman between the crowd, the funny joke amongst the Bridgertons and the forever seeker of what his siblings were finding.

But now as he took one teaspoon of sugar and dropped it into a tea cup and avoided the milk at all costs he wondered how he got so smitten. He made sure to twirl the spoon with all his energy, he wanted you to drink it and beam at the flavour and as he looked through the window he spotted your curious stroll outside.

Your hair was loose, beautifully curved by the ends and your blue dress with its straight skirt and your short sleeves with a squared neckline made you look so tranquil as he always knew you needed to feel. He snorted however at your insistence; you walked again to the rose bushes and started picking some flowers that fell into a basket by your arm.

He silently stared at your figure as you took more flowers from a corner and then you laid by a blanket spread by the grass and laid the roses over them. You were creating something. The wind was playing with your hair as you moved, Benedict knew that even without a paintbrush he could spend an eternity looking at you.

He saw the way you took the flowers and split the petals, you organized them -by size, he learned- and then you took a small mortar and pestle and started crushing them. His mind went immediately to a few weeks ago, the day when he was painting in his studio and you entered with your smile and giggles telling him you might have dropped some of your pigmented materials in your dress and oh my when he turned... your complete chest was damped in whatever mixture you concocted and the violet water was spreading through your skirt.

He solved it by taking your dress off. It was the most beneficial mistake he could ever think of.

He looked down and "Damn it" the tea grew cold so he took it for himself and made sure to make another one only for you

When he stepped outside he breathed the humid air of Wiltshire and squinted at the sunlight.

“That dim studio of yours is damaging your eyesight” you mumbled not even staring up at him

Benedict smirked and sat in front of you, laying the new tea cup beside you. You were still focused on your flowers but the smell of the chamomile reached your nose.

You looked up and met the clear eyes of the loveliest man on Earth “Hi”

“Hello. Drink now before it gets cold again”

“Again?”

“Never you mind” he gave you the tea cup and waited until you sipped the warm liquid and he felt proud of doing it good for you as you smiled “Good?”

“Yes, thank you”

“What do you get here?”

“Nothing special”

“Tell me”

You shrugged “I never got my hands on any type of cosmetics, and now I want to see if I can do my own”

“Cosmetics?” He smiled seeing your dedication to your cause “You can get cosmetics rather than produce them”

You gave him a stoic face “By now you should know I enjoy mixing things… husband”

Benedict chortled “Forgive me I do know, my alchemist”

“And more with the fact that when I used to go to the Cowpers, me and Cressida took Mrs Cowper’s cosmetics and something smelled bad”

“You mean…?”

“Whatever is in there smelled like lead”

“Oh”

“Or ammonia” you nodded “Should I put it in my face? I believe not”

“I believe not too” he took the mortar and saw the crushed petals “My herbologist wife”

“Shush it” you took it from his hands “How is your paint going?”

“It is” he hummed next and looked at the sky “I wonder who wants a painting of a pond when you have the sky looking like such” Then he turned to see your hair falling to your face and you staring intently at the mixture of petals “or this view as well”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. Sir Richard will come tomorrow to take a view at the painting”

“Sir Richard is the one whose daughter is getting married to the man with the weird moustache right?”

Benedict nodded “And I have heard something about that weird moustache man”

"Oh please do tell"

Sipping the tea and enchanting words of upper-class London Benedict you could quite put Lady Whistledown out of business. It was after dinner when you two parted ways for the late night. Benedict often despised the new routine he had after getting married. He felt the pressure of working most of the time with airs of copying Anthony's lifestyle. Oh he knew his brother would love the new him of glorious morning and tedious late-night work.

"At least I am not the first-born" he mumbled as he passed the brush over a missed spot by the corner

Yet, he might not be the firstborn but he sure still holds the Bridgerton name. Why on earth does he feel he must work and work? He does have a fair good amount of money to last through his lifetime and his future children's as well.

"Pffff" he groaned and let his hand drop the brush into the easel he looked around his studio and then up to the clock, 10 pm.

Wherever those nights go when he just stood still by the loveseat in front of the vanity and he watched as you performed such a delicate night routine? Wherever those moments of you naturally letting your gown fall over your naked body?

And now as he stepped surely but slowly inside the room, he now was greeted with your sleeping figure wrapped under the blankets but not his arms. He pouted and walked towards the bed, sitting by the edge and seeing the moonlight falling on your hair. He brushed your locks behind your ear and you shifted a little.

He stared for a while and answered his own question. People request painting of ponds and dogs and wars because they haven't met you yet.

By morning you let your open-mouthed of a husband sleep until he could wake on his own terms and you managed to arrange all the necessary things to host dinner for Sir Richard. You scratched your temple for the thousandth time as Mrs Crabtree explained the dinner service and how a proper nibble can be served during the painting exhibition.

The millionth time you have hosted these events and you still do not like them. You smiled however at the help brought by the Crabtrees and took a glance at the painting Benedict left almost done during the night.

And when noon came and you already taken your usual spot by the garden and started writing in your journal while stealing the newspaper that was laid for Benedict’s eyes.

“Please tell me I didn’t miss breakfast again”

You turned to the side and saw Benedict walking out with only a robe and his hair completely dishevelled.

“If I say no would that help?” You smiled and held a glass of fresh juice for him to drink. He gladly took it and drank until the last drop as he sank to the blanket on the grass.

“I just loathe this. I feel like I am waking up after a party”

You shrugged not knowing the feeling he expressed “How was that?”

“Full of unprocessed Brandy through my veins” he mumbled and saw the tea set by your side. A slight pinch in his chest made him feel so bad “Anyhow” he took your hands and kissed them smelling the rose water from your pores “How are you this morning?”

“Tired”

“Then you should have been with me in bed”

“And leave Mrs Crabtree alone for tonight?”

“I forgot how proper you are” Benedict rolled his eyes and rested his head on your lap and you automatically caressed his scalp. You were reading the paper once again and he tried to read it at your pace but somehow you have started the day with loads of energy compared to him.

“Love,” he said out of nowhere

You removed the newspaper from your sight and looked down “Yes?”

“…Nothing… I’m restless”

“I’m sorry to hear that” you replied and your hands trapped his face and you went down to place a kiss on his forehead

“Keep on”

You chuckled at his response and continued to kiss him all over his face. You loved how he would sigh at each kiss, it was a silent praise.

It was when you reached his lips that any tiredness he was preaching to have disappeared.

He sat down and turned your body towards his. You kept on kissing until he pushed you to the ground and the newspaper was completely forgotten.

“I thought it was me trying to comfort you,” you said

Benedict arched a brow. He might not be tired anymore, he could -oh he could- keep it up until he has you underneath him with your breasts exposed and the tea cup freezing cold by the corner and yet the beautiful smirk you have with your teeth biting your lower lip and the natural beauty of your face made him understand you really wanted to comfort him.

“Forgive me” he smiled and pulled apart “Please carry on”

You saw how he laid on his back and you followed him, your lips met his and a small giggle came from him. He was the most endearing man on Earth as he waited with his blue eyes widely opened.

You kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose and you bit his jawline making him hum.

Then your lips found his once again and this time he deepened the kiss, his tongue met yours and he could have sworn his soul left his body for a moment. Biscuits, tea, and juice. The flavour of this day.

Your “comfort” reached his neck while you kissed his skin, your hands played with the robe and the knots tied together. Whatever you want to do he is yours.

But then he opened his eyes at the absence of your touch and then you were swiftly tugging your dress. Your arms contorted as you expertly removed the buttons from the back and then let your dress fall to your hips.

Benedict was in a trance as his eyes roamed your form. He wondered if he did anything to deserve your touch or your presence at all.

You just smiled, sweetly yet provocatively when you showed your bare chest. No more petty coats, no more rib-breakers, only freedom in this Wiltshire cottage.

“My God” he licked his lips wanting to taste your skin

But you went to the knot and untied it, his robe fell apart and your hands went to his chest, pushing him down and you climbed him.

Your kisses trailed over his torso and he felt himself growing harder.

His eyes went to the heavens above, a sky full of white clouds... No. He can't just stay, he needs to do something. He sat down and his hands travelled down to your hips, his lips went to your breasts and your head went backwards as he sucked on your nipples and he grunted when he was pushed from the latch he had on you.

He gave you a stern look that faded with the force of your own eyes. You silently told him to stay on his back.

“Fine” he murmured to you

Your fingers found the hem of his night breeches, the ones he never wears. You found the thin cotton fabric easy to remove from his lower part and you were greeted quite happily with his arousal.

Benedict was watching attentively your actions and he gulped as you bent down and kissed the tip of his member.

A hiss came from his mouth as you wrapped your lips around him and started moving slowly. The once-dried skin slowly turned into a glistening shade of pink with your spit.

Once, twice, that head of yours bobbed to a perfect lazy rhythm and he was fighting the urge to thrust into your mouth. His hands found the back of your head and tangled themselves in your soft hair.

His grunts filled the air along with the sounds of you sucking him and the wind rustling the leaves and branches of the trees.

"You are so good to me," he said as he moved the stray hair from your face

Your mouth moved up and down and up again and you moaned in response making Benedict sigh in turn. He closed his eyes and you increased the speed. His member touched your palate and went further to the back of your mouth and as you pulled back your tongue tried to lick it further.

Benedict looked down and he had the most beautiful view. His cock disappeared in between your lips and you were so dedicated, the sounds were so wet and the feeling was so hot. He could explode just by looking at it but he couldn't.

How many times you have swallowed his seed? He couldn't count them anymore but he was sure to enjoy every single time too. He relishes the moment his cock pumps inside your mouth and you, loyal to the moment, keep taking his member while your tastebuds tingle at the warm bitter fluid. He loves and admires the movement of your throat when you swallow him and your lips stay most of the time clean.

Today? No, he doesn't need that view. He needs the one that makes him go to heaven and come back. He needs, he craves to see your core contracting with the remains of your orgasm while his seed flows out of you. He requires to see it again and again.

However, while he was picturing such a carnal moment in his mind, your mouth -full of energy- had the upper hand. Your breasts bounced with your fast movements and your mouth kept giving too much spit for you to glide up and down.

Lo-" he grunted as he felt the tensed muscles by his stomach "Y/N-"

You didn't stop and Benedict was quite undone by the blanket that made you feel such pride. You went again and again until it seemed his hands tried to stop you.

It was too late.

Benedict saw how you drank him fully, a small drop landed by your upper lip but apart from that, you did so well and still Benedict after the shock of his release, was not satisfied. Not because of you but because of his lost fantasy of coming inside of you. This day was not starting as he expected and he predicted it would be long before he could change it.

Hours after what happened you two prepared for the arrival of another client. The Crabtress returned from town with a special order; a cake Sir Richard enjoys (according to Violet Bridgerton) and you took your precious jewels and gave a final touch to your appearance. Not having a lady has made things far better in your opinion although your mama still finds it quite "offensive".

"You look splendid" Benedict said as you reached the end of the staircase

"And you look quite handsome" You gave an unconscious brush to his tailcoat and waited for the carriage to arrive

Sir Richard, with unwashed blonde hair and a subtle beard, made himself present in My Cottage. His beige tailcoat made him look so monochromatic and his pale complexion so bland but you have met him a few times to say that he was far better than other clients Benedict has invited for dinner.

"Mr Bridgerton" he happily said and shook hands with Benedict "Good to see you well"

"Sir Richard" Benedict smiled and nodded "It is a pleasure to have you"

"Thank you" his eyes drifted to your side and smiled "Mrs Bridgerton, radiant as always"

"Thank you, Sir Richard. I hope you will enjoy the dinner we have planned"

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it between his own "Just Richard, my Lady. Formalities" he sighed looking at Benedict "Are well forgotten back in London, no?"

With his laughter, the evening began. Still, the image of Benedict as someone who throws a dinner for a client and you by his side seemed out of your mind as if this was too much of a tryout for you both and still, protocols and politeness were still very present.

"Tell me" Sir Richard started "Is it true?"

"I'm afraid not to know what is true, Richard"

"That my future son-in-law has been seen roaming at night through the streets of London?"

Your wine got stuck in your throat, this is what you and Benedict were gossiping about yesterday so you locked eyes with your husband who blinked away with aim of diverting the talk.

"Oh, I wouldn't know Si- Richard"

He turned around and looked at you as he passed the tray of vegetables "What say you, Mrs Bridgerton?"

"Well" you tried to remember what else Benedict had told you "I haven't heard of that"

"Please, it is all over that dubious pamphlet... Mr Alvey spotted lurking around London" he shrugged "I told my daughter about it but she is, well, adamant"

"If I may," you said leaving the tray away "I have seen that pamphlet and is not like Lady Whistledown"

"No, it is not"

"Perhaps we can take whatever source and words are inked there with a grain of salt, can we not? Lady Whistledown has written things that by the end of the week can be verified but this pamphlet I believe has failed to do so"

Sir Richard nodded and brought a string bean to his mouth "Mr. Bridgerton, you got a gem"

"Oh, I know"

"Tell me, do you write?"

Your fork was forgotten on top of your plate as you blinked at the man “I-“

“Forgive me for the questioning. I recently talk with your father and he told me you wrote constantly. Now, I just wonder if you recall your days or you write about different things?”

“I do have many opinions” you admitted and gave a quick glance at Benedict

"And do you have a lot of time to write them down? I Believe so, this house is not yet filled with children, which don’t get me wrong they are lovely but free time can be used otherwise to spread solid sentences. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You tried to smile as your cheek grew hotter with each second that passed and the food was turning colder.

"Indeed" Benedict replied "And what are you trying to suggest, Richard?"

"You could give her a chance, write under the pen name Mrs Bridgerton and we could all know the wife of the second son; the painter. After all, my newspaper is known not for being traditional and I have employed plenty of women and not for cleaning the presses may I add”

"It would be an honour but I do not have the knowledge"

Benedict was first to give a smack with his lips at the absurdity of your comment “Nonsense”

“I mean” you smiled at him “knowledge of writing professionally. Although Eloise once blamed me for being Whistledown and that was a high yet ridiculous compliment, in reality I know nothing of publishing my thoughts”

“you always publish them with me” Benedict smiled lost in how the conversation was directed “and you do it superbly”

Sir Richard -sorry, Richard- laughed loud and strong “There you are. What do you think, Mrs Bridgerton?”

“And write about?”

Richard took his glass of wine and drank, his throat was dry after such a laugh, his cheeks flushed red and he took a minute to reply as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Write about the things no one wants to discuss" he leaned closer to the table, the candles illuminating his face and his green eyes were now focused on you "Facts, stories, good knowledge but also centred in your own opinion and tied to the readers”

You chuckled at the blurriness of his motive “Care to give me an example?”

"There were some household machines people around in London were patenting. Write about it, give your opinion, and ask the readers whether they like it. Would they use them?”

You fastly blinked at the proposition “S-Richard, that is quite an offer. I wonder if you got the right au-“

“I don’t mean to intrude in what seems to be a fruitful talk” Benedict said “But before you downgrade your knowledge which I know surpasses mine. I would say you could start small, no? Just write something simple, no need to be a machine or a new invention. What would you love to write about, darling?"

You sighed and took a sip of wine, thinking for a moment. Then an idea was formed in your mind.

"The importance of a full education for women… I might ask the readers” You looked at Sir Richard “ what do they think about it” you puffed "I'm sorry you said simple" You referred to Benedict "I ju-"

"That word doesn't fit into your vocabulary" your husband smirked

“I enjoy it now. We must talk about logistics. My press is in London and Wiltshire is not Surrey if you know what I mean”

Benedict saw your barely touched dinner and smiled at the man “We ought to but please let us eat something before I faint"

Dinner was a success, the cake was served and a new friend was made. When it was time to leave the men alone inside the art studio you waited by the tea room with your journal on the table. The inked words kept piling up forgotten in each page. If Sir Richard is right, you could be the next Lady Whistledown but then the consequences would be different.

"No such thing" you whispered to yourself

Employment. You laughed. What is this about? A pound per column published? Is it truly worth it when your name is known because you so desperately tried to make your opinion known?

The day already proved to be long and heavy. You waited for the men to finish without any activity to occupy yourself. It would have been different if the guest brought his wife, just like previous meeting you would offer her to talk or play cards if she looked high-spirited.

When you heard the doors creaking open you stood up and put your journal away to join the men. Pleased faces both of them as Benedict took the man's tailcoat by the entrance.

"Ah Mrs Bridgerton. It's been a while since I don't have such a nice evening"

"Thank you, Richard"

"We should have done it before" he looked at Benedict "I should have done this with your father, but oh well. Benedict, we must stay communicated this month and you Mrs Bridgerton I will send you some information this week that will make you change that puzzled look in you"

"I'll receive it gladly"

"Very well. Full stomach, good hosts I will sleep well tonight. Mr Bridgerton, I will see you later"

"You will. Have a good trip back home"

You followed him to the door and bid farewell to the man, his carriage was already outside and he was ready to depart and when he did you sighed long and steady until you saw Benedict's face.

"So?"

He shrugged "He needs a second one, just smaller but he loved it. Quite the mood he was seeking for his office he said"

You smiled and your cheek fell to his warm arm "There you go then"

"Thank you for today, for last night, for everything," he said in a soft voice and placed a kiss on your head

"What a day"

"You go upstairs I will thank the Crabtrees for preparing dinner"

"Uhum" you said mostly dazed and tired, you followed the stairs and turned to walk to the main chamber.

The candles were lit and the bed was made and ready for you to lay down and what a fall you had against the duvet. You exhaled and closed your eyes, feeling the soft fabric caressing your skin. Minutes later your ears took the noise of the door as Benedict's presence. You rolled and saw how fast he took his clothes and landed by your side.

His hand took your hair and caressed it, his blue eyes were fixed on yours.

"I must confess something" he whispered

"What?"

"I am... not content"

You frown and try to prop your head up with your hand "You're unhappy?"

"No, it's not unhappy just not content"

"Isn't that the same?"

"No" He sighed and turned his face to look at the ceiling "I am quite happy with you, with my family, with this place... with you and with you"

"Alright"

"But I..." he scratched his brow "I don't enjoy whatever I built of myself as an adult in terms of my profession" he saw your listening face and continued "It is a good living, it is a good business I can't complain about that. However, I feel off. Not here, not there but most of all not here"

"Not here?"

"Not with you. Fully and I know it's not as if you need my constant presence by your side-"

"Who said that?"

Benedict gently smirked "What I mean is that I must pause this work. We have enough money to last our lifetime..." he paused, his eyes dancing "And... perhaps one kid's lifetime"

"And if we have two?"

"Alright, two kids' lifetime but not for our grandkids"

"Hmmm. Then our kids will have to work" you laughed while Benedict joined you seconds later "I understand what you mean"

"I do will leave money. I will work at some point" he justified

"I don't mind that" you confessed "I know you don't enjoy rushing things and clearly you feel you rushed into this work-for-commission task when you feel you should be here with me"

Benedict's chest tickled in warmness as he heard his thoughts coming from your mouth "My dear, you just get me don't you?"

"You were never difficult to read for me"

He grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, his lips kissing yours softly, his nose brushing your cheek, his heart racing. He was not sure what he would do if you were not by his side.

"You know," he said "If you are truly tired I will understand but" his hand pressed your arm and traced down at your waist "I want to be here tonight with you"

"Depends on how you want to be here" you murmured

"Let me tell you" he kissed your hand and then hovered on top of you "Let me show you" he kissed your lips, sweetly and locked eyes with you "I want to find my way in you, in your open hands," he said merging your fingers with his, tightly "and that you feel like a woman only with me" his free hand caressed your breast through the fabric and then his lips took yours "Today and tomorrow and the days after I want to be here. Today I want you" his hand reached for the bottom of your dress and he slowly pushed it upwards, the skin of his legs brushing yours as his knee opened your thighs.

"I want to be here with you," you said between a murmur and a kiss, his weight was on top of you and his eyes were bright in the light, the shadow of the candles making his face look sharper and the blue of his eyes deeper and darker.

Benedict licked his lips and pulled apart only to hastily remove your stockings. He put his arms behind your back as you arched it, his fingers undid the buttons and pushed the sleeves down. He did not wait and grabbed the dress and threw it to the side.

Your breasts tempted to move out of the corset and Benedict exhaled as he removed it and it reminded him again how unnerving these pieces were and how good is to have you not wearing one daily.

"I want to be here, now" he repeated with each kiss he gave you, his tongue tasted you and his hands touched your thighs "I want to quench this thirst" he moved down to your nipples and licked once, licked twice "This thirst of my soul on your lips or-" he gulped seeing the absence of your pantalettes and the readiness of your core

His tongue attacked your folds and licked in slow, steady motions that had you trembling. Your head was buried on the duvet and your fingers tangled in his hair.

"Oh my-Benedict" you moaned as his tongue flicked

Benedict sucked and slurped as he pushed a finger inside and turned up to see your wanton eyes and parted lips "Oh my Y/N" he mimicked and resumed his movements

A second finger joined while the pace was increasing; he sucked your nub and pushed his fingers up. His tongue played with his fingers as they slid in and out and he moaned against you with the real juices only you can produce but he knew he was owing you so many orgasms already. He has not let you set free in his face for almost a week and knowing you, you are counting.

He pulled apart and removed his fingers, his thumb rubbed the sensitive spot while his mouth kissed his way up to your neck.

"Benedict"

He moaned and bit your earlobe "Y/N"

"More"

"I will give it all," he said "I promise"

Swiftly, his wet fingers grabbed his member and he stroked himself before pushing it into your folds.

"I love you" he kissed your lips

"I love you more"

"You're all mine" he thrusted only once "And I am so yours" he pulled back and slammed until you were only one

Your hands were holding his sides as he pounced into you, his hot breath heated your cheek as he groaned and growled with each push. He was so strong and so hard and yet so soft. Your lips brushed and kissed as your walls tightened.

"Oh, dear god" he moaned as his pace slowed down "Are you close?"

"I..." you softly snorted "Is too much" You felt your navel tensing "Almost"

"So fast" he whispered and kissed your bottom lip "I am praised for that" Benedict groaned and pushed in and out, in and out. He could feel the build-up inside his navel and the pressure was too much already.

Wait. He thought. Just make it last a bit more. Be here. Be here.

And he saw you underneath against the olive duvet and how glorified you looked with your pink cheeks and parted lips. With your breasts bouncing with his pace and your nipples getting hard then turning soft. And as he caressed your stomach while slowing the thrusts he knew that to be here meant something else.

Six months after you got married he has wasted time trying to find where he fits but he now sees he has always fit with you -no jest intended- six months and he hasn't had it right until now. He wants to be here and give you his kids. He needs to see you swollen with his child, your breasts filled with milk and oh dear get you aroused looking like that.

Yet first things first. He needs to have what he got denied this morning.

"Benedict"

He groaned with your moans and his thrusts sped up only to become more erratic, his hand went down and massaged your nub and you were doing so good trying not to come fast and that only gave him time to organize his lewd thoughts.

His eyes went to your wrapping folds around him and he imagined the moment his cock will spur his warm white seed inside of you. How good will you take him? Will your contracting walls push his essence deep within you?

He licked his lips and his groans grew louder as the tension was too much and the feeling was almost unbearable.

"I can't" he grunted "Oh no, I can't."

He fell forwards as he hovered and his hips thrust faster making you arch your back at the intense fight between you. He felt how you were welcoming your orgasms and he kept focusing on your open mouth and tensed jaw muscles. He pushed his cock inside. All the way inside, he ordered himself.

He moaned and softly exhaled your name as his stomach became hard with his release. He felt his seed being milked out of him and he stayed there acting as the barrier for his seed not to flow out of you.

His hand dried the sweat around your forehead and his body felt heavy but he couldn't move. Not when he had such a beautiful view. He saw how your breathing started to regulate and your legs stopped shaking. He moved out of you and somehow his eyes took a long glance at your core and how beautifully marked it was with his thick seed coming out of you.

He smiled and looked up at your pretty face "Let us rest" you responded n a soft hum and Benedict enjoyed as you moved inside the linens and how his fluids were still dropping across your inner thighs "Sleep, my love" he whispered

Benedict often thought about how he reached this point in his life. From the boy who was so desperate for freedom to the man who found a purpose. And he has found the explanation. He has reached here thanks to you and how good it feels. How full he feels when he has you near and when he reflects that he is loved by you. To be here, he thinks.

No onelse, nowhere else.

To be here.

[chikaras-garden]

Aftercare

Sometimes, when smut gets intense, we need a reminder that we’re still safe and loved. Read this if you need a safe space after heavy smut with your F/O.

Pairing: your fave x fem!reader

Words: 1.1k

Contains: unnamed male!F/O, implied sub!reader, mentions of overstim and rough sex, aftercare, cuddles, sweet nothings, praise, doting, mushy relationship stuff, F/O calls R “sweetheart,” “honey,” “baby girl,” and “good girl,” your F/O is called “partner” so you can decide if it’s husband/boyfriend/etc.

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked. Feel free to tell me who you imagine while you’re reading ❤️

You’re sticky, hot with sweat, and your lungs struggle to fill with air. Your eyes squeeze shut as you wriggle against the bedsheets, trying to find comfort through the thick of your own overstimulated arousal. Though your body feels numb, you’re aware of a dull ache in the back of your mind, but you can’t tell if it’s mental, physical, or both. All you know is that you just spent what felt like hours at his mercy, and that turned you into a weeping mess with a throbbing core and limbs too heavy to move.

There’s a soft sound that echoes around the room, circling you; it’s a shush, a hum, a coo that sounds an awful lot like your name said in your favorite person’s voice. You sense him before you really feel him; it takes your brain a few seconds to realize that he’s leaning over you, hands caressing up and down your sides, and speaking to you in a soft voice, using words you can’t understand.

He takes your hands with the gentlest of fingers, nuzzles each of your palms, and presses a tender kiss to each wrist. The feeling lingers like a slow-moving cloud on a summer’s day, and the tightness in your chest loosens at the sensation. You take deep breaths in—one, two, three—and fill your lungs with warm, light air.

When you open your eyes, he’s smiling at you. “Hi, sweetheart. Feelin’ okay?”

“Mn,” you half-moan, half-grunt. Though your bones ache and your skin is sore, you gather all of your remaining strength to reach for his shoulders, to hoist yourself up to latch onto him and never let go. All you can think about is how you need him, the touch of his skin, the whisper of his praise. But, he sways out of your grasp.

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, grinning. “Water first.”

Biting your lip to hold back your pout, you think of phrases spoken in his domineering timbre: ‘be good for me,’ ‘tell me—tell me what you want,’ ‘good girls do as they’re told.’

Looking away, you mumble. “I need you.”

He cups your face with one hand, tilting your chin so he can see you. You can’t—don’t want to—resist, so you feel the weight of his eyes locked on yours while he reaches behind him, toward the bedside table. “You’ve got me, honey; I’m not going anywhere. ‘M right here. We’re all done. You’re safe.”

The cool glass of your water bottle meets your palms. It’s uncapped already, and you feel his hand resting on the small of your back. His fingers work into each muscle, and you only now realize how tense your posture is. 

“Need my help?” His doting eyes watching you with a worry that’s so ‘him,’ your heart flutters back to life. You shake your head, and he acquiesces; instead, he occupies himself with pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses to your bare shoulders.

It takes a moment for you to raise the bottle and drink. You close your eyes while a slow stream of water flows down your throat. Like the leaves of a dormant plant, you unfurl as water reaches through you. Life returns to your arms, your legs, your fingers, your toes. Even in your mind, the fog of your just-finished session begins to part, and the afterglow of your partner’s love for you is what shines through.

You take another deep breath while you lower the water bottle to your lap. Weighing the half-full container between your hands, you notice the tremble in your lip and a persistent ache in your wrists and shoulders, a chill in your bones that just now registers.

There’s a blanket waiting for you, warm from his body and smelling like his shampoo. Strong arms reach behind you, wrapping it around your shoulders like a cape. He joins its ends under your chin, smooths his fingers over the marks a different version of himself left behind on your neck.

Compared to you, he has a significant lack of coverage. Bare-chested and wearing only a pair of quickly-donned boxers, you realize he must be cold, too. “You—”

He cuts you off with an over-pronounced smooch to your cheek. “Don’t worry about me for now, ‘kay? I wanna get you cozy first.”

You give him an uncertain look, to which he just chuckles. It’s a quiet noise, like the purr of a cat; then, he leans close, resting his forehead lightly against yours. “Taking care of you makes me feel better.”

“Love you,” you murmur in response.

A sound that lives at the intersection of a shuddering breath and a delighted laugh leaves his mouth while he wraps his arms around your waist. He leans, shifting onto his hip, and tugs you effortlessly into his lap. “You did so good for me, honey. You’re the best girl, my perfect sweetheart, doing everything I asked and more. Where’d I find someone like you?”

You muster the energy for a dreamy half-smile. “I found you, remember?”

His next words flow out of his mouth without hesitation, as if he isn’t in control of them at all. “You saved me, baby girl.”

“From yourself?” You grin. “I think I’ve heard this one.”

Then, you wind your blanket-wrapped arms around his chest and nuzzle into his shoulder. It’s his turn to let out a dreamy sigh; leaning back against the headboard, he plucks your water bottle from you and takes a sip, beginning the ritual of taking care of himself, now that he’s certain you’re safe, drifting peacefully through the warmth of your bond.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “Such a beautiful, perfect thing.”

“‘M yours,” you counter amidst peppering baby kisses along his jaw. 

He swallows under your lips, and his hand finds your hip to squeeze. “No, sweetheart; you’re your own. You’re just sharing yourself with me, trusting me, and I…” He gives you a serious look. “Thank you, for that.”

So gently that you barely feel him, he taps the underside of your chin, guiding you upward to kiss him. His mouth is open, but not wanting; with how slowly his lips move, it’s almost like he’s baring his belly to you, showing you where he’s most vulnerable as his way of reciprocating what you just did for him.

“Love you,” you repeat in a whisper.

“Love you,” comes his echo.

Somewhere outside of this room, in a bathroom that’s just a few steps and too far away all at once, there’s a scented bath and silky lotion waiting for you—both of you. But that’s just the thing; it’s waiting, and it can wait a little longer, because all you need for now is to remain here, at peace and entangled with the man who loves you like no one else can.

[petew21-blog]

Workout routine

My best friend from school, Emily, married last summer while still being at university with me. She is still young, but claimed that her boyfriend truly loves her. Bullshit if you ask me, he never respected here and treated here like a trophy wife since the beginning. Yeah I hated him. He was a homophobic asshole and acting like some fuckin' alpha male. Why Emily dated him I never understood

One day we were on their garden studying for an upcoming exam. I was nervous most of the time cause James was working outside fixing stuff and eyed me like a prey. Emily went to get us some snacks and drinks.

He came up to me and started some homophobic talk how I could choose this path of sin and so on. I couldn't look up at him. Cause he was very close to me, very shritless and VERY sexy. Way too much. If I looked up even for a second, I would immediately get hard.

"You gays are the worst thing about this generation. You can't even work, y'all do your artsy useless shit and nothing usefull"

"Can you just let me live and go on about your life? I don't want to listen to this."

"Well you're on my property so you'll listen to whatever I have to tell you"

A call from inside the house. Emilly called him

"You're lucky. If it weren't for her you'd be already on the ground biting dust"

What an idiot. I was raging. I think I'll just leave and go home. I can't calm myself down and I don't want to cause any drama with Emily. Even if I think her husband is horrible, I don't want ot loose her a s a friend"

Emily came out of the house, smiling. She brought the snacks and water. She looked at me "Sorry for... taking so long. I had to sort something that couldn't wait. Now drink up, you haven't drank for hours. I should have brought drinks sooner."

I took the glass and took a sip. But then I felt really nauseaous. My vision was blurry now and I felt like vomiting. All I could make out of Emily's face was that she was smiling.

Then my vision started getting clearer again. But it was strange, I wasn't outside anymore. I was in their kitchen, holding a glass. "How did I get here?" went through in my head. As I looked for the nearest surface to put down the glass I noticed that I was shirtless.

Wait, what?!? This isn't my body!!!

I let go off the glass destroying it. But nothing could have prepared me for being this ripped in the matter of seconds. This is something I always wished for, but never thought I would get. I was always the skinny twink trying to build more muscles, but couldn't. And now, I have massive muscles.

I found a mirror in the hall. No, this can't be happening. I am James. I can't be him. He is an asshole. A homophobic asshole.

But his body thought otherwise. His dick got hard. And it isn't small. Which might be cool to play with, but now I was still angry everytime I looked at the mirror.

"Enjoying yourself?" Emily asked as she entered the house

"What have you done, Ems?"

"I gave you a new body. The one you have been lusting for. And as a side effect I got myself an improvement for a boyfriend. I loved him before, but I was blind and deaf to all the things he said on your account and to all the things he commented about me. Never appreciated me. But you are the best man I ever knew. And I wanted to be with you even if I wasn't your type. But now, I think I might be" she said as she placed her hand on my new crotch.

I thought I wouldn't like this, cause I was gay for my entire life, but James's body is still straight. But in my mind I could even picture myself with a dude and not be disgusted

"Ems, I think you didn't turn me straight as you wished for. I think I'm bi, actually"

"Whatever is best for both of us. I got a cute gay friend who you might like and who would love to explore your body, with me. But I think there might be some emotions involved, you know. Cause of the previous ownership and so on." she said and laughed out loud.

I took her up and put her on the kitchen table. Embracing her and going for a kiss.

"Ems, you are the best friend I could have ever wanted. I love you and I will love you now as your husband"

We could hear a scream outside coming from the garden. We could only smile at each other as we knew what was coming

Two months later:

"Hey, my name is James and this is my colleague Robert. Robert is a small gay dude friend from my wife. We are going on a road trip to get to know each other better with the permission from my wife. So we would like a room"

"Oh, there's only double bed? That's absolutely fine with us, right Robert? Bro's will be bro's and NO HOMO. Hahaha"

A story request from Inbox: Could you do a swap with a Twink and his best friend’s bodybuilder husband?

[sant-riley]

Domestic Simon Riley? 👀 -🪴

[With you] [Simon 'Ghost' Riley domestic headcanons]

(Romantic Ghost x Reader)

Summary: Simon is your disconcerning boyfriend, to most people it seems as if he'd be incapable of gentle touches and affection, you know better though.

More info: You're apart of 141, no one knows you two are dating, you are younger than him and are shorter than him in this.

Warnings: usage of the word Girl once but it is more geared towards fem! (This is so fucking self indulgent im sorry) possibly ooc for Ghost (idc tbh) , do these even count as domestic? Idk ive never dated someone, nothing else that I know of but do let me know if there is anything that needs to be tagged!

Ghost is so painfully subtle in public with the way he treats you, he'll never outwardly do anything romantic but his actions and how he looks at you while he does it makes people pause.

In your own quarters or homes though, its different.

He's extremely attentive to you, your wants, your needs, your dislikes, he knows it all, he classifies it as important as missions. Simon didn't have a good father growing up, he didn't get to see what a good husband was supposed to be like, he's learning from the bottom up and he takes it seriously.

You'll never have to ask him to make breakfast, he's always up before you and has it cooked on the table with your drink.

Knows exactly when it's the time you wake up, and if he's able he'll go wake you up personally, brushing your hair out of your face and gently running his fingers through to detangle it from your sleeping.

Despite how cute you are sleeping in just his large hoodie, he won't let you sleep in, y'all got stuff to do.

He'll pick you up and bring you down to the table, pressing a kiss to your temple, if that doesn't wake you up (you usually will look up for a real kiss), he isn't afraid to grab your face in one hand and just, smoosh your face, he knows you hate it but it's gonna wake you up bc you're trying to slap his hand away.

He sits across from you, but reaches out one arm across the table with his palm facing up so you can grab it whenever, he likes it when you play with his hands.

Don't get me started on Simon and washing dishes, he always takes over washing duty and let's you dry ‘em. But every other time, he's gonna let his hands stay wet and will tell you to “think fast” and flick water over you (if you truly hate it, he'll stop though)

you know that saying of peeling oranges? He's the biggest proof that there is somewhere out there that will do it for you without question. Doesn't matter what it is, if you don't prefer driving, he has no complaints about driving you everywhere, if you don't like washing your hair? Just tell him what products and what order you use them in, just sit there and relax.

If you wear makeup and you're too tired to take it off yourself, he'll do it for you and it makes me emotional.

In your shared bathroom, he sets you on top the counter and uses one hand to gently grab your chin, taking the remover and firmly rubbing off your eyeshadow/eyeliner/blush/etc, afterwards he'll murmer a “that's my girl.” (He loves you with or without makeup, but he loves you for you, doesn't matter which you choose to do that day or any day)

He covers the corners of the meeting tables when you bend down to grab at the pen you dropped, it's just second nature for him to protect you from hurting yourself. He's yanked you from the street, picked you up just with one arm to make sure you don't walk into something gross on the street, gotten in front of strangers who try and get in your face for something. His body completely covers your own, and he always has weapons on his person, he isn't afraid to resort to maiming someone for you, you're his number one priority.

Simon loves having you sleep on top of him, he finds the weight a good reminder that you're there, you're not going anywhere if you do, he'll notice right away. If you get up to go to the kitchen, he'll sleepily follow you and just stare at you for an uncomfortable amount of time til you realize he's there. He'll make fun of you too “You should know ‘m right here, what kind of soldier isn't aware-” “Simon, I'm literally in just a bra and boxers right now.”

He demands your attention, this is one he'll do on bass in front of others bc technically he can get a with it. You're next to a recruit he doesn't like? Suddenly there's papers on a recent mission he needs your signature on, or he needs you for special 141 training reasons (he wants you to come with him to the dining hall, he's hungry and he doesn't want to go alone)

Dude stands right up against your back, in every scenario. His chest is probably an inch away from your back. He's playfully called your shadow by Price and the rest of the guys.

He grabs your hips alot, usually just to rest his hands there, occasionally rubbing small circles into the flesh, humming.

Simon will try and subtly leave as well if you leave the room, he gives it 10 minutes before he makes his way out to find wherever you wandered off too 

Price finds it fucking hilarious, he'll look down at his watch and mentally countdown to when Simon makes his escape. Simon can fool most people but not John, the way Ghost will tap his foot and roll his shoulders are tell tale signs that he's had enough of being there.

He'll dance if you want him to, though he simply sways with you in his arms, if you're of a specific culture, he'll try his best to learn it but no promises, while he is fast learner and perfects everything he does, he's a big man, he's not that graceful.

Without thinking if he sees you're cold, he's stripping off his jacket to give it to you, he doesn't ask, he just moves behind you to drape it over your shoulders.

He'll take off his mask with you, and let you trace the scars that litter his face, let you trace his features too, he's fallen asleep to you doing it and he doesn't know how much you cried silently when he did.

Simon practices new jokes on you, to get your opinion of them until he can tell the others, the louder you groan the better the joke is in his eyes.

Soap asks why you don't even react anymore and you just sigh. You are tired.

When he's especially annoyed and done with the day, he just shoves his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you in a death grip while he takes deep breaths, in the least weird possible, your scent and body so close to him helps him destress.

One thing he makes a huge point to do is to clean your guns for you, yes you should do it yourself but ever since y'all have gotten together, he's taken it upon himself.

He's scared, more scared than anything that something will go wrong when you're both not on the same mission, this is just a way he can ensure your gun will fire correctly and efficiently, that you can defend yourself when he isn't there.

Speaking of weapons, he gives you one of his personal knives for you to keep, he'll ask for it back only to sharpen it, everything has to stay in its best shape.

Likes when you drape yourself over him when he's sitting, alas he is just a man so he likes to feel your chest against his back.

Pulls you into his lap if you walk by, he'll let you get up if you truly want to but he'll position you to sit sideways and will rub your legs as he watches whatever is on the TV.

For anyone who has arthritis, Ghost will take the time to rub your ointments into your hands, he knows what weather makes then worse and keeps his own tube of it onhand so he's prepared.

He's always buying you things, he knows that it's not necessary but for him, it sees it as ‘if for some reason I fail at something else, at least I can provide this’ someone hug him he's fighting for his life.

Stocks up on every single essential you can ever need, your comfort food and snacks? Always on base and always at your flat, if you two are walking around the shoppes and he sees you eyeball anything, bet your ass he's going online to order it for you immediately, and when it shows up, he just shrugs. He doesn't see it as a big deal, it's just money. Which is very cute but also a ps5 is NOT cheap sir, you can't just-

[my313]

whipped bf!soobin headcanons 🐰

pairing: soobin x gn!reader

tags/warnings: fluff, non-idol au, established relationship, stuff alluding to marriage

a/n: i was listening to pasilyo - sunkissed lola and was like . soobin would be such a good long term bf slash fiance slash husband 😭 help .. insane ass thought... so now we have long term bf soob :3 enjoy!

bf!soobin thinks you look bewitching everyday, but these days, and especially tonight, you have a flush on your face that makes him want to say all the pretty things you read in romance novels and love songs just for your blushing cheeks to grace his sights once again

bf!soobin, who even after all the years you've been together, still asks bashfully, "will you go on a date with me?" each time he wants to spend time with you outside the comfort of your little apartment

bf!soobin lets you sit in the cushioned booth seat always, without any arguments. though, if it was truly all up to him, he wouldn't have you on the other side of the table because he loves being able to sit beside you; feel the skin of your arm against his as a reminder that you're real, you're here, and importantly, you're his

bf!soobin, who looks at you in a lovestruck gaze as you talk and talk about what happened at the office the other day, or how the commute back home was lonely without him on friday; how you missed having your very own personal pole to hold onto when the metro came to an abrupt stop. anyone can always tell when something concerns you, or relates to you in even the most minuscule of ways, because soobin's eyes soften on default.

bf!soobin can't stop looking at your hands as you sit across from him at a fancy restaurant; the one you wouldn't stop seeing videos about on instagram; the one he called every week since your last anniversary to find a slot to reserve

bf!soobin, who makes do with having to be across from you, by taking out his phone and snapping pictures of you each time the warmly-lit candle on your table hits your face at a different angle; or another snap when you take a sip of water; always reasoning with your protests by saying something silly - something about "what if i get memory loss and forget about us? and then i see this fine ass picture of you drinking water and then boom! i remember- why are you laughing? i'm dead serious, babe."

bf!soobin, still sparing a glance at your hands every now and then, while you twirl pasta around a fork or reach out to hold his hand, thinks of how bare your fingers are. he can't stop thinking about how your ring finger would look absolutely beautiful wrapped by a silver band worth thousands; any gem or stone you want; whatever words engraved - they all allude to something he continues to dream about; to celebrate all the sides of your relationship, himself, and you, for the rest of your lives.

[ariisheresstuff]

Gon request a Javier Peña x reader where they’re like married and Javi had a late day and got home late n stuff and reader is all tucked into bed and he just gets real domestic n shit and he tried really hard not to wake her up but she’s already awake and she asks about his day and as he’s telling her he sees that she’s fallen back to sleep

Thx :)

Dozing Off

Pairings: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

MasterList

A/N: Ty for the request! Enjoy! <3

It was around two in the morning when Javi got home from work. Today was draining for him. Him and Steve had a new case coming up and the paperwork and investigations were just exhausting. Javi yawned as he entered the apartment you and him shared. You and him have been married for almost two years but dating for about three years. He took out the key to the front door and quietly opened the door and entered in. He threw his stuff on the floor before going into the kitchen to get a drink. He paused when he say a note on the counter. He took the note that read:

I made your favorite for dinner, it’s in the fridge. Heat it up. I love you mi amor. ~Y\N

Javi smiled at the note but frowned a bit, he felt like a bad husband for always leaving you at home to cook and clean while he’s out busting his ass. You two haven’t really had a proper moment with each other. Javi quickly took a shot of liquor before deciding that he should eat the food you made for him. His heart felt light at the fact that you made food for him even though he’s never properly home with you.

Once Javi finished eating, he entered the bedroom. He stepped in quietly as he admired your sleeping form on his side of the bed. He chuckled through his nose before walking up to you. He kneeled down as he rubbed your back softly before kissing your forehead gently. “I’m home cari��o,” he said softly, he stood back up and quickly changed into his sleep wear. As Javi turns to face the drawers, his arm hit a candle that was sitting on the nightstand. The impact caused the candle to fall making a big thud. Javi gritted his teeth as he catched the candle. “Javi?” He heard your groggy voice call his name as he turned to see you lift your head with your eyes squinting at him. “Shit, I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean to wake you, go back to sleep.” Javi went over to you as he repeatedly kissed your head as he rubbed your back to get you to sleep. “It’s okay, I was trying to stay awake for you but clearly that didn’t work.” You chuckled making Javi sigh “Baby, I told you to not wait up for me. You need sleep.” Javi cupped your face as he rubbed a thumb over the apple of your cheek. You took his hand and kissed his palm. “You need sleep too.” Javi sighed knowing that you were right, he let go of your cheek as he went to put on his sleepwear. You watched him as you did, “How was your day?” You asked him through a yawn making him chuckle, “Same old shit. Steve being a pain in the ass like always.” You rolled your eyes before laughing at him, Javi got into bed with you as he pulled you into his chest. “Anything exciting happening?” You asked him once more as you drew shapes on his bare chest, Javi sighed as he also drew shapes on your arm. “Starting a new case. Not that much detail yet, but I’m pretty sure it will be more of a shit show than Escobar. Motherfucker was not giving us a break. I’m pretty sure that this case will— Javi stopped his sentence as he heard you start to snore. He looked down at you in his arms to see you passed out. Javi couldn’t help but laugh, and he shook his head. “Guess I bored you with my job cariño,” He joked before kissing your head a few times, “Sleep tight, mi amor.”

Tag-List: @otomefan @slasherstories123 @amis-love-bugs @avengersfan25

[runnning-outof-time]

Hiii K, congrats on your 3.5k! That’s such an amazing milestone 🥳🤩 I’d like to send in the following prompt for John. 17. “How do babies get made.” I felt like this would go very well with John 🤭 Can’t wait to see with what you’ll come up with!

Hi Daisy @peakyltd !! Thanks so much for sending this in!! I was hoping that someone would choose John for this prompt because you’re sooo right - it fits him perfectly!!! I hope you like what I did with this! Also a special thanks to @raincoffeeandfandoms for letting me use the ‘little chimney man’ who brings babies…you’ve helped (Y/N) immensely here! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find more stories here!

That’s Not What Dad Said

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: awkward talk about babies being born, a playful smack with a newspaper

Word Count: 677

Summary: (Y/N) gets a surprise when she and John’s oldest child asks a rather interesting question out of the blue.

The question that six year old James Shelby asked just about made (Y/N) spit the tea she was drinking right back into its cup. “Can you repeat that again, dear?” she prompted the child, silently hoping that she didn’t hear him correctly.

“How do babies get made?” the boy repeated his question. It was the exact question (Y/N) had heard. Word for word.

“Umm, well…” she trailed off, taking a few moments to try and think of how she’d tackle this. The boy was six…he didn’t need to know about the actual process that occurred. “So when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much, they have a talk, and in that talk, they decide that they want to have a baby. Then, there’s a man who comes down the chimney after hearing the talk and puts the baby in the mummy’s tummy. In nine months, the baby is born, and that’s how babies are made,” she finished her extravagent story with the exhale of a breath and an unsteady smile, hoping that it worked.

James looked at his mother, not saying anything for a few moments. “That’s not what dad said,” was what he finally said in response.

His statement immediately confused (Y/N). “Wha—what do you mean?” she rushed to ask, her eyes shifting between her son and her husband, who was still reading the newspaper and drinking tea; completely unbothered.

“Dad and uncle Arthur were talking yesterday and uncle Arthur was telling him about a lady he was with and I asked dad what he meant and he said that it’s how babies get ma…”

“Alright, I’ve heard enough. Why don’t you go and get ready for school, hmm?” (Y/N) cut the boy off, already having an idea of where the rest of his statement was going. Her insides were doing flips just thinking about her husband and his brother talking about stuff like that in James’ presence.

“Ok,” James nodded, hopping off of the chair without a second thought. (Y/N) was thankful he didn’t question it and did what she asked. He ran off then, leaving (Y/N) and John alone in the kitchen.

(Y/N) looked over at John, seeing him glance over at her while holding the cup up to his lips. He tried to be nonchalant and revert his eyes to the newspaper, but (Y/N) caught his gaze. “Would you like to tell me why you and Arthur were talking about those types of things with your boy in the room?” she asked him, her eyebrows raising as she spoke.

“We didn’t think he was listenin’ to us,” John tried to defend himself, setting the cup down so that he could look at her.

“He’s six, John. He listens to everything…and then he only remembers the things he isn’t supposed to,” she countered, her frustration shining through her words.

“It was a mistake, love. It won’t happen again,” he assured her, surrendering the argument because it was one he knew he couldn’t win.

“It better not,” (Y/N) emphasized, standing up from her chair to collect the empty dishes from the table. She walked them over to the sink, sitting them in it so that she could do the washing. Before getting to it, she walked back to where John was sitting with the newspaper in his hands. “Let me see that,” she said to him as she stopped at his side, motioning to the paper he was holding.

“Here,” he said, handing the paper over without second thought.

(Y/N) didn’t waste any time. She rolled the paper up and used it to lightly smack John on the back of the head, the sound of the whack from it filling the room.

“Oww!” he exclaimed, turning to look at her with wide eyes as he rubbed the back of his head.

A grin spread across (Y/N)’s face as she locked eyes with her husband. “I meant what I said,” she said then, seriousness present in her voice.

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @kissforvoid @raincoffeeandfandoms @peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @wildheartsalwaysburn @dragons-are-my-favorite @jessimay89 @slaymybreathaway

MASTERLIST

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Can I Request an Old Era One Piece, the Old Era is when Gol. D. Roger and Whitebeard and Big Mom and Monkey. D. Garp where in their prime, and let's have a Mitsuri Reader. Like you know how Gol. D. Roger and Whitebeard Clashed? And their crews and them fought each other for 3 days and 3 nights and then traded stuff and drank and had fun on the fourth day. Let's have the Mitsuri!Reader on Whitebeard's Crew, one of the few women on his crew. And you can decide whatever next! Have a good day! Sorry if this is long-

-You were one of the only women that Whitebeard allowed in his crew, you had proven yourself early on by easily defeating most of his crew without even drawing your sword! You didn’t have a Devil Fruit ability, but your immense strength and combat skills made you a very dangerous opponent.

-It was just rather funny that your power and skills didn’t match your vibe. You were a ditz, always crying or gushing about boys, stuffing your face with Sakura mochi, and being physically affectionate with the other members of the crew.

-You were comfortable in your body, as in you weren’t overly shy with showing off certain parts of your body, something the rest of the crew had to get used to, especially when you would hug them, greeting others so warmly when they arrived back on the ship.

-They had all quickly adopted you, turning you into their sister, one that they were ready to throw hands for and protect, as they were worried that men from other crews were going to try to trick you and take you away from them.

-When you heard that your crew would by fighting against Roger’s crew, you were excited, hoping for some strong opponents to challenge yourself against, as there weren’t many that could handle your strength, without Devil Fruit abilities at least.

-You had so much fun, charging in with the others, seeing so many strong and good-looking men, perhaps you would find a husband amongst them!!

-Roger’s crew was quick to underestimate you, some of them catcalling you, trying their luck with you. They weren’t expecting your ribbon-like sword paired with powerful kicks and punches, easily handling large groups on your own.

-Roger figured out that you were a weak spot, as he clashed with Whitebeard, “That Y/N of yours is pretty cute- I’ll make her join my crew when I win!” Whitebeard responded with a furious face, charging in, “DAMN YOU ROGER!!”

-By the end of three days and nights of constant fighting, you were glad to see the two crews laughing, having fun as a huge party with lots of food and drinking.

-Roger’s men were all glaring over at you, as you had Buggy in your arms, hugging him close, finding him adorable, “You’re so brave to be fighting with everyone else!” while Buggy was trying to get free, “Let me go!!” embarrassed about being so close to the bare flesh of your chest while Shanks was being a gremlin, grinning while teasing Buggy for being so shy, which only caused more yelling.

-The rest of your crew were around you, creating a protective barrier, glaring daggers at the grown men of Roger’s crew, silently threatening them, telling them to stay away.

-It wasn’t fair that the two youngest were allowed to be near you! Roger was already planning on the next fight, as he wanted to take you away so you could dote on all of them too!!

[vividachromatic]

Meant To Stay The Worst

Pt. 1

Alastor x Reader

(friendship, slowbuild romance)

Pt. 2 ->

Note: This is gonna be a series. Reader and Alastor will be friends and fall in love and marry and meet each other again in hell and rule there as overlords...

Sounds nice and simple. And although all that is true, there will be a lot of emotional drama still. First, because of Alastor's trust issues, but also because they don't have a 'lovey-dovey' nice relationship. There will be fluff, and they'll love each other, yes. But the concept of their relationship is basically supporting each other in making each other worse. Like, they're in hell for a reason and want to stay there... They do morally corrupt things and even when they don't agree with each other they support each other.

I don't think this is dark enough to be considered a dark fic at all, it's more canon typically dark. But just to say this isn't meant to portray a healthy relationship or morals.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, use of Y/N (kill me for it) , Alastor AND reader are on the ace spectrum but don't know , alcohol use, idk tell me if there's smth else

---

There was cake and tea, lovely flowers and lovely dresses. If you'd have been alone this may have been relaxing. But every time you tried to let your mind drift off to something nice - like a scenario of a book you read, the obnoxious voice of your cousin snapped you back to reality.

"Then he told me our offspring would be genetically superior!" She giggled.

"How romantic." You sighed in boredom and tried focusing on something else. Being forced to drink tea with your lovely cousin who tormented you ever since childhood, just so she could please her own sadistic desires was something you had to do as a representing lady of your house.

God being a woman in the 1930s was exhausting.

Your cousin Maria rolled her eyes at you. "Does it make you happy to be so negative all the time? You know you're gonna die alone if you don't fix this attitude of yours, right? You act like you're better than me, but at least men like me." She gave you a smug grin.

"Yeah, congratulations. I'm actually not really interested in the constant humiliation of being treated like a lesser human being, nor the year-long physical abuse I'd have to endure until I'd finally finish slowly poisoning my husband's tea."

Maria narrowed her eyes at your audacity to speak your opinion. Then she cleared her throat and smirked at you again - this was the look she always had as a child when she was about to torture you. "Speaking of which... I actually have someone you may be interested in meeting this time."

You just stared at her blankly without a response. You were forced to go on dates with different men all the time.

You were 21 and still not married, which was just a scandal for your family. But, you always managed to successfully scare these men away on your dates. Because you're a woman, your opinion of whether or not they'd be a good spouse obviously didn't matter, so you had to think of creative ways to make them not want to choose you.

After noticing your lack of response to her statement, Maria simply continued, "See there is this radio broadcast I've been listening to and this broadcaster... he just had such a hot voice! And he talked about some stuff... I don't know what, I didn't really listen, but he seemed proper, so I asked my dad to use his power to arrange a date for me! But, when I researched him further... I think he's a little poor actually, he wore this fake brand... also he doesn't really look like how I expected him to look, so... since you're all for this equality stuff I thought it'd be perfect. My dad is mad at me since he already paid for the date, so you're perfect!" She finished, giving you a fake smile.

"Hmm... this actually sounds like your problem, not mine." You gave her a fake smile back.

The girl just gave you an angry look and finished drinking her tea in silence.

Oh, you were so sure she was going to try to find a way to punish you for this.

And right you were. Your dad informed you the same day that you were going to go on that date. And you should definitely look out to not fuck this one up again.

Your father even acted like he cared about you for a second, explaining how this is what you must do in this world. Even if it's not perfect. You just went to your room in silence, trying not to cry in front of him.

This world was cruel. Your brother followed society's expectations and was fine. Your cousin followed society's expectations and was fine. You didn't and were unhappy. So was this truly the answer?

The next day you made yourself ready - skipping breakfast.

You'd just scare off this man like the others. Maybe you'd have to marry someone mediocre one day. Or maybe you were gonna run away someday. You weren't sure yet.

Arriving at the restaurant you recognized the cheesy interior suiting the style of your cousin and her father immediately.

The polite waiter recognized your face and showed you your table.

This supposed date of yours already sat there. When he saw you walking towards him, he immediately stood up and politely extended his hand to you. You took it and he planted a short kiss on your knuckles. The waiter handed you the menus and excused himself.

The man had a polite and big smile on his face and pulled your seat back, waiting for you to sit down until he sat down himself giving you a small bow. "My name is Alastor! It's a pleasure to be meeting you my dear, quite a pleasure."

He was definitely polite. But you did see what your cousin meant by saying he was probably not from a rich family. His moves seemed too much like he memorized them from a book only a short while ago, and not from real experience. His clothes seemed expensive for someone from a lower class but not higher. He also looked more dark-skinned than people in your family would probably find great.

"My name is Y/N. It's a pleasure to be meeting you, too." You tried giving him an honest smile back. He was probably gonna turn out to be an asshole, too, like all the guys, but for now, he hasn't done anything wrong.

The two of you exchanged light small talk before ordering your meals. You were surprised to see him ordering a heavy meal with a lot of meat and strongly seasoned. You of course didn't care what he was gonna eat and ordered your favorite meal, too, whatever his opinion may be, but you were used to everyone ordering the same boring and light stuff to seem healthy and well-mannered.

The conversation seemed superficial and boring but not too bad. He had at least not shown any extremely radical opinions or behavior yet.

His smile remained on his face throughout the whole conversation and after a while, he cleared his throat and explained kindly to you: "Look, you seem like a really beautiful and lovely woman, any man would be lucky to have you. This is why I have to be honest with you and tell you: I'm actually not interested in any romantic relationship or anything similar. But I am flattered by the letter you sent me and I do enjoy your company..." his smile didn't falter as he tried to politely let you down. It did though, when he saw your unusual reaction to his rejection.

Your always neutral-looking face until now, was slowly forming a smile and your eyes lit up. You were offended he actually thought your cousin's (probably vile) letter was written by you, but all in all you were glad, because this man didn't actually expect to sleep with you or even continue meeting.

You let out a relieved laugh. After seeing his confused face you quickly apologized, "I'm sorry, I just- my father forces me to go on these dates when I'm not actually looking for a relationship. I was already prepared to try to make up some story to scare you off, too, like I always do. But it seems like I may actually be able to enjoy a dinner for once without pretensions or expectations."

Though scaring men away can be entertaining in itself, too.

Your truly relieved smile, while picking up your food made Alastor smile again, too.

"Well if that's the case, I am happy we're on the same page, then. Though I am surprised about this... letter of yours then." He smiled gently, though his eyebrows scrunched a little in irritation when he said the word letter.

You then explained the existence of your cousin with a roll of your eyes and an embarrassed smile.

From that point on your conversation was much lighter and actually enjoyable. You both shared your annoyance at everyone's expectation to have to marry to have a life worth living. You then shared your struggle specifically as a woman. Marrying a man basically meant selling yourself to another man after you belonged to your father. It's like being an object.

Surprisingly, he actually agreed and talked about feminism and how much he appreciated women, especially his mother who solely cared for him since he was little.

He then explained how he definitely didn't want to meet the person who wrote that letter and expected an awful evening, but his mother encouraged him to at least try to meet a girl for once. This then ended in you talking shit about your cousin and him laughing about it.

It's the first time you talked to someone who actually shared your opinion. Of course, you knew those people existed, there was a wave of feminist women nowadays, calling themselves 'flappers' and even some men supported it. But you were never able to meet any of them, the only people you met were the same old, sheltered relatives of yours or their acquaintances.

You did have a thirst for knowledge though, which was the reason you knew about all of this in the first place, even when you were supposed to only associate yourself with a certain circle of people.

But you loved to read books you weren't supposed to and you loved to express yourself through art, when you weren't supposed to.

You tried learning basic self-defense too, but it wasn't easy through words alone and nobody wanted to teach you, because it was 'unlady-like'.

Alastor listened to you talking with a smile and nodded. He then explained how he hung around Jazz bars pretty often and got to know many beautiful feminist women there. You listened attentively. You heard about these places and wanted to go there for some time... Alastor noticed your interest and invited you to show you around one of these bars sometime.

You agreed with a genuine happy smile. This meeting was so unexpectedly nice. And you probably even made an actual friend for once.

"I do have to ask... you said you scare men away usually?" He asked and you nodded with a grin.

"So, how do you do that exactly?" He asked with a smirk while eating his steak.

"I usually just pretend to be a witch, a cannibal or a serial killer. Always works." You shrugged. Convincing men of these things over one date was actually easier than you'd think. And it did make sure they would never want to contact you again.

"Oh? But you're not, right?" He asked, his smile not wavering.

"Hmmm..." You obviously assumed his question to be a joke or rhetorical and answered, "No, I'm sadly not that interesting." You grinned and he gave you a weird grin back.

After the date, he walked you back to your house like a proper gentleman and kissed the back of your hand again when saying goodbye. He was a proper gentleman, not condescending or expectant of anything. This was definitely nice.

When you arrived back home you seemed surprisingly happier than your father or your brother expected you to be. They asked you how it went and you just said it went well and returned to your room.

...

One week later you met Alastor again in front of a local Jazz Bar. He politely offered to intertwine his arm with yours before entering the place.

Inside you were immediately greeted with...

"Alastor!!!" A small blonde girl hugged him with huge enthusiasm. He awkwardly patted her back.

"Aww!! Who is this sweet doll you brought with you?" The girl grinned at you.

"This is Y/N. A new friend of mine." Alastor introduced you to the short, chubby girl. You gave her a shy wave with your hand.

She immediately took your hand and dragged you into the club. "Well, Alastor's friends are my friends! You're pretty! Can you do the Charleston?" You blinked at her in confusion, looking around you, trying to find Alastor. You weren't used to people touching you or dragging you around this much... was this gonna go bad?

"Mimzy! How about you leave this lovely, little fellow to me, hm? She's still quite new to the scene." Alastor grinned at the girl and took your hand to guide you to him again. You sighed in relief. This girl seemed nice, but you didn't know her.

"Hmmm..." The girl glanced between you and Alastor with a thoughtful expression. "Alright! Does the new girl at least want some alc?" She grinned.

You politely told her the drink you wanted and Alastor just said 'the usual' with a dismissive wave of his hand and a smile. Mimzy nodded and left the two of you.

Alastor now led you to a private boot. You felt awkward. You were usually not too shy, but this situation was so unfamiliar.

"Hey..." You felt a hand on top of yours. "Relax." Alastor smiled at you. You nodded with a sigh.

Later Mimzy came back with a glass of your drink and a bottle of whiskey for her and Alastor. They ended up sharing the bottle with you after.

Mimzy smoked a cigar and encouraged you to try it, too - you did and though it was nice, you had to cough a lot.

Mimzy just giggled, calling you cute. Later she and Alastor showed you how to dance the Charleston. At first, you were embarrassed to try it, but after a couple of drinks, you were convinced.

After dancing for a while you sat back in the corner of the booth, Alastor smiling at you and pouring you another drink. "I'm grateful, but I think this is gonna be the last one." You tried not to slur your words too much and smiled at him, still out of breath and blushing from the dancing and the alcohol.

He nodded. "I'll walk you back home, of course." You smiled at him in gratitude.

This was probably one of the most enjoyable night you've had in a while. Though it probably was just a regular one for Alastor and his friend. You wondered if she was his girlfriend, she was pretty and he said he wasn't interested in romancing you.

Later when Alastor walked you home he gave you a small kiss on the cheek, despite this not being labeled as an actual date.

Alastor grinned at your face flushing in embarrassment and he asked you if you'd want to repeat the night. You enthusiastically agreed.

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

This fic is my offering to the Helluva/Hazbin God to finally grace us with Helluva Boss s2 ep8 🙏🙏🙏 (I know I'm pushing my luck here, but also please let Blitzo and Stolas fix their relationship- okay now I'm getting delusional)

If you want to know how girlie scared off men, I just had 'Red Flags' by Tom Cardy in mind lmao.

Anyway, I've planned way more parts for this one, including when they are both married and in hell, so stay tuned!

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Caught

Gibbs x Reader One Shot

Prompt: You’re Gibbs’ wife and an NCIS agent and see your underage son at a bar while out on a sting operation.

Mentions of drinking.

You fixed your earrings in the car mirror and made sure your ear piece was secured.

“Testing audio. Y/L/N, you look absolutely ravishing in that dress. You should wear it more often,” Tony flirted.

“Jethro. Smack him for me please.”

All you heard was the familiar sound of hand meeting head and smiled.

“Alright so we need to make sure he either provides us with the name of his boss or the address where they’re hiding him. Remember, he only agreed to this meeting because he thinks you’re a double agent. Don’t leave the bar with him and if he gets spooked, we’ve got Torres inside already at the bar,” your husband lectured.

“Yes honey. I got it.”

You walked across the parking lot and into the semi crowded club, looking for your mark without seeming obvious. You spotted Nick first, pretending to nurse a drink at the bar and then saw your mark, sitting not far away at a high top table.

You walked over and took a seat across from him.

“Powell?” you asked.

“Yeah. You must be Agent Stanton,” he confirmed.

“So how do you want to do this? You gonna give me the name of your employer? Or I’ll settle for an address of where he’ll be.”

“Slow your role Agent. We’ll get there. First I wanna know a little bit about you. How is it that an NCIS agent with an outstanding background turns on her own?”

Remembering the backstory Abby created for you, you rolled your eyes and recited your lines. “It was a good run for a while. But doesn’t pay nearly as much as gun running.”

He nodded and sat back in his chair, thinking.

“Listen. If you’re not the guy to come to for stuff like this, I can find someone else. You just seemed like someone in charge.”

He scoffed, clearly offended, “Oh I am, and if anyone says anything different they find out the truth real quick.”

“Did Agent Carter find out the truth?”

He squinted his eyes at you in suspicion just as a familiar laugh broke through the silence.

Turning your head, you look over towards the VIP section of the club and can’t believe what you see. Your 17 year old son laughing and drinking with a bunch of older men and women. Had you not been on an important op, you would’ve walked over and dragged him out of there by his ear.

“Before we continue, I need a drink. Would you like one?” You ask, grabbing your purse and trying to contain your anger.

“Another Jack and Coke.”

You nodded and turned to walk toward the bar.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked through the ear piece.

“Jethro. I just spotted our son laughing and drinking with a bunch of people in the VIP section. Do something now before I march over there and blow this whole operation.”

“Torres. Get over there and bring him out here to us. Quietly,” Jethro ordered.

As you reached the bar, Torres left and you ordered 2 whiskey and cokes, genuinely now needing a drink. While walking back over to your table, you saw Torres pulling your son aside out of the corner of your eye.

“Here you go. Now. Where were we?”

————

You stomped over to the surveillance van and threw open the doors, meeting the eyes of your son who already looked like he had been thoroughly chastised.

“Tell me why on God’s green earth were you in that club with a group of people twice your age!”

Tim and Tony were both quiet as your husband stood in the back with his arms crossed. “I wasn’t even drinking mom. My friend invited me and knew the bouncer. I was just having fun.”

“Having fun? You do know that is a place where very dangerous individuals like to hang out don’t you? You could’ve “had fun” in so many different ways than what you did. You put yourself at risk for all different types of dangers, not to mention arrest, had anyone knew you were underage!”

He stayed quiet, not looking you in the eyes and took a deep breath. “Out. Now. You’re riding with me and your father.”

“But Tony said I could-

“Hey now, I didn’t exactly promise anything,” Tony defended himself with his hands up.

“Get. Out. Now.”

Both him and Jethro exited the van and you all walked over to the secondary car with Jethro driving. For about half the ride, it was completely silent until you broke it.

“You are grounded for a month. No games, no computer, and you get the emergency phone only. We expect you home every night at exactly 6pm, any later without a solid excuse and your grounding sentence gets added to. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t yeah your mother. Does she make herself clear?” Jethro said sternly, backing you up.

“Yes, sir.”

You closed your eyes and tried not thinking about all the ways the night could’ve gone wrong. Jethro must of sensed your anxiety because you felt his hand rest on your thigh and give it a reassuring squeeze.

“We’re not trying to be mean S/N. We just want you to really understand the dangers in what you did and that it can’t go unpunished. We love you.”

“I know. Love you guys too,” he answered, softly, making you tear up.

“Now we’re gonna go home, you’re going to give us all your electronics and then help your father down in the basement.”

There was an obvious groan from him and you both smiled. Putting your hand on top of Jethros, you lock eyes with him and he gives you his famous smirk.

[plussizefantasia]

It's Always the Wife

Bucky Barnes x BlackCat!Reader

Chapter 4/6

<Prev / Next>

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: It's the danger part of the story so we've got guns and threats, talks of murder, alcohol, and language.

A/N Not a huge fan of this part but I got to the point where if I kept tweaking it I would go insane so.... here ya go. Part 5 coming this week!

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

How the hell had you missed this? How had you not realized that the lynchpin behind all of this was the wife? It’s always the wife, how could you miss that? 

Fuck Bucky Barnes. You’d bet your whole life savings on this somehow being his fault. If he hadn’t made you go to bed early you could’ve done some more digging and you probably wouldn’t have missed it. It was his fault. It was his stupid worrying and caring about your well-being that got you into this mess. 

“Ms. Longborne, I have to admit, you’re not exactly the first person that comes to mind when I think of a potential investor in our little… business. Didn’t you say that money should be used to help others, why are you interested in making more if you have all you need?” Mrs. Bowman looks you up and down, far more critically than she had when you two had first met when Bucky was at your side. He’s not here now, you’ll have to cover your own ass. 

“Mrs. Bowman I’m sure you’re well aware of the more theatrical part of society, playing the role of the wholesome heiress is good for business that's all.” 

“Dear, I’ve been playing my part for longer than you have and I never once had to lie to people to boost myself up in the world.” She takes a sip from her glass and sends you an all too condescending smile.

Thats bullshit shes not a natural blonde first of all you can see her roots growing out, and secondly, your pretty sure backroom and under-the-table dealing while keeping the facade of a happy and wholesome nuclear family to the American people counts as lying.

“Mrs. Bowman, lying is a bit of a harsh word I don’t think I ever lied to you. I find that when my money goes to charities and the like it makes people less likely to look into the way that I make that money. A small contribution to the commissioner’s wife’s favorite cause and suddenly he’s all the more willing to loom the other way. It's strategic, that’s all.”

“So, that’s what the sizable donation to my charity was, a red herring?” 

“Yes and no,” You take a sip of the whiskey in your glass, and resist the urge to make a face, you have no idea how Bucky drinks this stuff it tastes like disinfectant. “I needed to make sure that I got an invitation and I knew that such a large sum would draw some eyes, it cost a pretty penny but it got me this far didn’t it.”

“That it did, but I have to ask, why did you want to meet my husband so bad?” Mrs. Bowman placed her drink on the table next to her and began sauntering towards me. “I wouldn’t normally feel the need to step in when it comes to deals like this, I prefer to stay in the background I’m sure you understand. But you… Your very presence sends off alarm bells so tell me. Deborah, why shouldn’t I just kill you now and be done with this.”

The gun cocking behind you makes the hair on your neck stand up, you slowly turn and make eye contact with Hunter, a Smith, and Wesson leveled at you. He doesn’t make eye contact.

If you get out of this you’re going to slap the shit out of that metal-armed bastard. Didn’t he say he’d be right behind you?

You take a deep breath, if you show any weakness any hesitence you’ll get a bullet between the eyes. And you aren’t planning on dying today.

“Other than the fact that if I just suddenly go missing it’ll only raise questions? I think you’re bluffing. If you didn’t trust me even if a little bit you wouldn’t have brought me back here and you definitely wouldn’t have let me get a glimpse behind the curtain. If I didn’t know any better I’d say this was a test. And judging by the smirk spreading across Mr. Bowman’s face I think I just passed.” You cock your hip out to the side and rest the arm holding your glass on it. “Am I right? Or can Hunter get on with it and pull the damn trigger already.” 

“I wasn’t sure about you Ms. Longborne but anyone who can look a pistol in the eye and come out on top is someone I want on my side. So… let’s talk business.”

Holy Shit, that was too close, for a moment there you had a glimpse into an entirely different end, one where Bucky hears a gunshot and runs into the room only to see you bleeding out on the carpet, unable to do anything but hold you as life slips between your fingers. You can’t die, not until you tell a lot of people a lot of things. 

You shake your head to pull yourself back into the moment. 

“That’s the thing, Mrs. Bowman-”

“Julie, if we’re going to be partners we have to do away with the formalities now, I don’t deal with kiss-asses.”

“Alright, Julie, I need to know more about this business before I decide on anything. I may not have the most strict of morals but there are some things that even I won’t be involved in.” 

“Smart girl, alright what do you want to know.”

“Hunter let me in on a little bit of the financial aspect, said that you were looking for investors. Is that as far as I’ll go, I give you money and you give me back my returns or will this partnership be a more… involved one.” 

“Investor is a fun word, it implies that you have power. That won’t be the case. See unlike the shareholders of the corporate world I won’t be bowing to your whims, trying to satisfy whatever hold you think you have over me. I’ve worked far too hard to have someone think they can wave a couple thousand dollars around and control me.”

“I'm not in the controlling business Julie, I just want to be sure that my money isn’t going to be going to waste.” 

“So you want to know what’ll happen with your buy-in is that it?”

“Precisely, I don’t need to know all the gory details after all, I’ll need some plausible deniability if this whole thing falls apart after all.”

“Dear, why don’t I explain this part after all, it was my idea.” The governor cuts in, and you almost jump. You had forgotten he was even there, to be honest. 

“Sure, dear.” Julie pats her husband on the arm, her tone that of a mother speaking to a child. 

“Did you know that 8.8% of people in Alabama didn’t have health care as of two years ago? When I was elected I quickly and quietly ran a bill through the Senate and the House that mandated health insurance coverage. It’s now illegal to not have coverage which made a lot of people mad but created a big opening for opportunity. So I came up with an idea, and the best part is that It’s just on the right side of legal, legal enough that is. NexCare LLC; an insurance company entirely on paper, runs through several shell companies, and all the profits are shuffled into offshore accounts but it's mostly legit. And it insures over 25% of Alamaba’s citizens. They pay 24 Dollars a month for ‘complete coverage’,” he puts air quotes around the words and you start to feel the urge to punch his teeth out, “The coverage is just enough to make sure that people are following the law, but just convoluted enough that we don’t actually have to pay out for anything. We have the right to deny all claims yada yada. Essentially, we’ve created a way for the fine people of Alabama to essentially deposit their money right into our pockets.” 

Now you really want to knock this guy the fuck out. If he’s right and this is all on the right side of legal then there really is fuck all that you can do. You can’t arrest the man for owning an insurance company and if he’s crafted the contracts just right so that he doesn’t actually have to shell out for anything then there really isn’t anything you can do.

“Well Mr. Governor, that really is a spark of genius. And it’s all legal?” 

“It’s legal enough, we paid a lot of lawyers a lot of money to make sure of that.” Julie pipes in.

“And nobody knows that you own NexCare? How’d you work that out?” You bat your eyelashes at the man, hoping, praying for him to spill anything that you can use. 

“More legal mambo jumbo, I’m not too sure. Like you said, plausible deniability.”

“So why do you need my money, seems like you're pretty set up?”

“Expansion is expensive and the lawyers are demanding a higher cut in order to keep their mouths shut, this way everyone stays quiet and happy and we get to get more money from more people.”

“I don’t know, if you’ve already got people on the verge of spilling the beans then why would I want to be anywhere near that.” 

“Trust me Ms. Longborne we have ways of keeping people quiet.” 

“I’m going to need a little bit more than that Mr. Governor, I’m too pretty for prison.”

“God, Charles stop beating around the bush, Debrah here can handle some dirty work, can’t you darling?” Julie stepped in. “Being in power has its privilege and with an extra 3,000 a month into the hands of some police captains, we ensure that specific deaths don’t get investigated. That’s all, it’s a small percentage that reaches that point but it has happened.”

You can sure as shit arrest them for that though, bribery and accessory to murder at the very least. With enough digging, you could probably get the captains being bribed too. That wasn’t your job though, leave the digging to the team at Shield and they could do their arrest too for all you care. You just want to get the hell out of here as soon as possible.

“Let me get all this straight, you have a little arrangement with some shady as hell lawyers who are constantly on the verge of turning you in or extorting you and you need my money to keep them quiet so we can all keep charging the good people of Alabama for insurance that they’re legally required to have but will never see a single dime from?” 

Hunter sorts from his position lounging on the old couch behind you, “Pretty much nailed it, I told you guys she was smart.” He nods to his parents.

Julie purses her lips and looks back at you, “She may be smart but she still hasn’t given us an answer.”

“No, I haven’t, and I don’t plan to. At least not tonight. I’ve got some thinking to do but you’ve certainly piqued my interest.”

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what might happen should I hear that you’ve been a little loose-lipped about what we’ve told you.” Julie raises her eyebrows at you. God, you really hate these people.

“No, you don’t. I can assure you word getting out that I was even meeting with you about this would ruin my reputation as much as yours, my lips are sealed.” You sink back the rest of your drink. “But if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been away from my date for a little too long and I’m sure he’s wondering where I am. He’s a worrywart.”

“Well, I look forward to hearing from you.” The governor grabs your hand and shakes it, his grip just a tad too tight to be comfortable.

You don’t say anything after that, just push your way through the doors and sag against the wall once they’re closed. 

“Bucky? Can you still hear me?” 

“Loud and clear Kitty.”

The nickname makes you smile, leave it to Barnes to lift the mood after one of the most tense moments of your life.

“Did we get enough?” 

“The comms recorded the confession and the fact that all three of them are in on it, yeah we got plenty. You did good work.” You nod your head.

“James?”

He just hums.

“I’m ready to go home.”

“Two steps ahead of you.” The voice is all of a sudden much closer, you look up and see him standing over you, holding your coat in one arm and offering the other to help you off the floor. You don’t even remember getting down there.

He pulls you up effortlessly and you stop yourself from crashing into his chest by putting your hand out, it lands on his chest.

He practically pushes you off of him and shoves your coat into your arms. 

“Let’s go.” He doesn’t look to see if you’re following him, he just begins to stride away. 

What the fuck is wrong with him? One moment he’s complimenting you on a job well done and helping you off the floor and the next he’s acting like being too close to you will set him on fire or some shit.

You follow after him nevertheless, you weren’t lying when you said you wanted to go home, and you aren’t going to let Barne’s shitty attitude keep you from doing just that.

Bucky is handing some bills to the valet when you finally catch up to him, the car that the two of you drove here pulls up to the curb you’re standing at. You move to open the door to the passenger side, but before you can get there Bucky already has the handle in his hand and he swings it open for you. He gestures for you to go ahead and you don’t even try to stop the scoff that bubbles up your throat.

You get comfortable in your seat as Bucky walks around the trunk of the car and gets in on his own. He doesn’t buckle just pulls away from the curb quickly.

You don’t like this sense of deja vu, being trapped in a car with James Barnes, neither one of you speaking it’s all too familiar. Except this time, you aren’t uncomfortable, you’re angry, more than angry actually you kinda want to rip off this asshole's metal arm and beat him with it for being a dick. 

Minutes tick by. You don’t speak but you silently fume from the passenger seat. You look over at him a couple of times, you can’t read him. You’ve never really been able to read him and this time is no different. What you wouldn’t get for a glimpse inside his head though.

The car pulls up to a red light, the two of you are bathed in the deep color.

“What the fuck is your problem this time Barnes?”

“I don’t have a problem.” He shrugs.

“Obviously you do or you wouldn’t have acted like my very presence is annoying to you and you wouldn’t be giving me the silent treatment right now.”

“I don’t have a problem.” He insists again.

“Fine. Whatever, when you’re ready to talk to me like a goddamn adult then I’ll be here to listen but if all you’re going to do is ignore me then you can let me out of the car right the fuck now.”

“What?” 

“You heard me, let me out of the goddamn car.”

“I’m not letting you out of the car Y/N! You’re insane.”

“Let me out of the car, or tell me what’s wrong.”

He doesn’t speak, he looks into your eyes and all across your face but he doesn’t say a word.

You nod a solitary nod and reach for the door handle.

“I love you.”

 That stops you cold in your tracks.

[littleboyblue1]

I Do

Had the idea of Jake being the greatest guy ever. Decided to write that out, kind of. Anyways.

warnings: p in v, oral (f receiving), talks of marriage, no y/n, but 'Mrs. Lockley' is said, nothing else I can think of

Jake Lockley was a lot different than most guys you'd dated. He was, as your friends often said, 'husband material'. He certainly would've been if it weren't for the frequent days of no contact, and the fact that he was very secretive. But then he explained it, and he was perfect again. Suddenly, it was nonstop texting, and not a single secret.

Marc and Steven were amazing, but there was always something more with Jake. You liked him most. He was your first of the three after all. And, even though you'd never say it out loud, he provided a much more normal life than the others. He liked domesticity, and it made it feel like a marriage between you two, and just dating Marc and Steven. Which was just fine, it didn't change anything.

But because of that difference, Jake was the guy your friends, coworkers, and family knew. You told your family after a while, but it was still mostly Jake they saw. The others, well, you'd explain it if you had to.

Jake also thoroughly enjoys being your 'arm candy'. Your boss had called him that when they'd first met at a dinner, and Jake would not let it go. No matter how much you and the others teased him, he liked it. So much so that he would beg the other guys to let him be the one that goes to your work events. They always said yes.

Tonight, he seemed extra eager. He showered and dressed, then you'd told him he was three hours early. "That's okay. I'll just watch you get ready then," he'd replied. You wondered if he'd done it on purpose.

He isn't a 'take showers together' guy, but he does enjoy sitting on the counter talking to you. Not every time you shower, just when he feels particularly talkative. So, he sat on the counter, talking about his day.

"I don't mind it really. I just hate working with people," he explained. He'd often go to work for Steven, purely because he preferred to front for long periods of time these days.

You laughed. "You could always just let Steven go in, baby." Jake huffed loudly. "I know. But it would relieve the stress."

He handed you your towel as you stepped out. His head rested agains the mirror. "Yeah. But no." You laughed again. "Want your hair thing?" You nodded, and he dug around for your hair towel while continuing. "Sometimes I think we should just tell them. Maybe they'd let us skip, and I could do something I like."

"I don't think - thanks - think it's a bad idea. It might make things easier on all of you."

He followed you into your room. You talked the idea over while you finished getting ready. When you finished, he went to the closet and picked out shoes for you, then delicately put them on. You wondered if he even realized he did stuff like that. It was like second nature to him.

Jake left for a second to get drinks, and your friend Alexa leaned in. "Seriously, where did you buy that man!? she asked. You laughed.

"Got lucky."

"You may be the luckiest woman on Earth."

"Tell me about it." You turned to see him. He was chatting some guy up at the bar. Even from a distance, he was hot. He saw you and waved. You returned the favor, then turned back to Alexa. "I worry I'll wake up, and he'll just be a dream."

She sighed dreamily. "If he is, mind telling me your night routine?" The two of you laughed until Jake got back.

He placed the drinks down for all three of you, then held a hand out. "Come on," he nodded towards the dance floor, "This is our song." You couldn't help but giggle as you stood. It certainly wasn't 'your' song, but it was a nice song, and Jake liked dancing.

He was a good dancer too. You could stand there stiff as a board, and he'd wheel you around perfectly. No one would even notice if he was the only one dancing. But you'd learned for him anyways, and the two of you were a well-oiled dancing machine.

"You've got a very nice dress, miss," he whispered in your ear. As he leaned back up, you caught him staring straight down the front.

"Charming as always."

He cracked a smile at you. "Can't help it. I see a pretty lady, I have to look."

"Is that so?" You weren't upset, but you tried to force your voice to sound like you were.

He nodded. "Just seems like there's a lot less pretty women these days. About 4 years ago, there was only one pretty woman left on earth. Confused the hell out of me." He was smiling a big, cheesy smile. You couldn't help but laugh at him.

"You're a dork."

When the song ended, he led you back to the table. He casually draped an arm over your shoulders. You were warm, but you didn't mind.

The rest of the night went by quickly with dances, drinks, and boring work conversations. When you got home, you were both a little tipsy, and Jake was spinning and dipping you all the way back to the flat.

Your old neighbor smiled and waved at the two of you. You giggled and waved back. "You've got a very pretty wife," she said to Jake. You waved her off, smiling wide.

Jake smiled even wider. "Yes, I do." You liked the title 'wife', even if he was only agreeing because it was easier to just agree.

Jake let you in, spinning you onto the couch. He dropped his jacket on the floor, then fell to his knees at your feet. As he undid your shoes, he placed kisses all over your calves. He was mostly kissing - you could feel his fingers fumbling with the straps.

When he finally got them off, you pulled him to you by his cheeks. "You looked so handsome tonight, baby," you whispered. His cheeks got a little pinker.

"So did you."

You giggled, pulling him in for a kiss. When he pulled away, he stroked a thumb on your bottom lip. "My wife. Could you imagine?" He stared into your eyes with an intensity that could melt you.

A smile tugged at your lips. "Mrs. Lockley. How's-"

He cut you off. "Fuck, say that again."

"Mrs. Lockley." You could've sworn his eyes became just pupil. He pulled you in hard enough your teeth knocked together lightly. It would've been off putting if it weren't for the fact that he was leaning back down to sit on his feet.

He pulled away breathless. "Take it off." You obeyed, discarding the dress quickly. You hadn't worn anything special, just the underwear on the top of the pile and a clean bra, but he sighed anyway. "God, how did I ever get so lucky?"

Jake took your undergarments off, tossing them somewhere behind you. He dropped his head against your breasts, kissing the tops before moving down to your nipples. He worshiped them for a moment, then started moving down again.

He left a trail of kisses down until he was where you needed him. "One more time, baby. Say it again."

"Mrs. Lockley?" You assumed that's what he wanted to hear.

You must've been right, because he pulled your legs so he could be in a better position, then began nearly devouring you. The moans that escaped you were beyond pornographic. You dropped a hand to his curls, changing between pushing him into yourself more and pulling his hair.

Each tug pulled a groan from him, sending vibrations through you. Suddenly, he lifted his head and started using his fingers. You had to force yourself to keep your eyes open.

His stubble glistened, and he truly had very little brown left in his eyes. "I like that name, baby. Mrs. Lockley."

"You don't say?" He did something that made you gasp loudly. "Fuck, Jake, that feels so good." He dropped his head back down and used his tongue and fingers to bring you to your climax.

He licked and kissed until you had to push him off to escape the overstimulation. He moved slowly back up you, dropping a wet kiss on your lips. "Come on." He lifted you, bringing you to your bed.

Jake undressed himself quickly. You gave him a look over. His chest was beautiful, sculpted by the gods themselves - almost literally. His abs were toned in a way that could drive a woman feral. The happy trail they'd been growing was enough to make you get off the bed and fall to your knees.

"No, baby. Just want you." He looked down with pleading eyes. How could you be so cruel as to deny him? You got back on the bed, and he pushed you to lie down. "I love you."

"I lo- holy fuck." You moaned out as he pushed into you. He gave no time for adjustments, beginning his pace immediately. Not fast, but not slow either. "I love you too, baby."

You brushed a curl from his face, then pulled him down for a kiss. He sped up, and you arched up into him. Jake groaned into the kiss, then dropped his head down to the crook of your neck.

As he continued speeding up, you held onto his back for dear life. He didn't like when you scratched him, so you had to settle for squeezing his muscles for support. He moved down to kiss your chest. His lips wrapping around your nipple made another loud moan leave you.

"You can scratch, it's okay," he muttered out. It was a sweet gesture, but you knew he didn't like it.

You dropped a hand into his hair, tugging at the strands instead. You began moaning together, and as his thrusts became quicker, you could feel the coil in your stomach tighten. "What'd you say? Wanna be Mrs. Lockley?" he asked suddenly, pulling away from your tits to smile down at you.

"Yeah, I'll be Mrs. Lockley."

The look on his face was enough to bring you to your climax. He came at the same time, and you rode out your highs together. After a few slow movements, he laid you on top of him, still inside of you. A soft smile brightened his features. "Really mean it?"

"I do."

[whateversawesome]

The First (Dumb) Twiyor Fight Chapter by ao3 writers...l mean, by Endo 🤣

First, don't worry Yor, most of us have made a fool of ourselves in front of our crush 🤭 Nice to see she remembers 👍

Right: Asking your wife if she slept well.

Wrong: She didn't drink heavily. She just has very low tolerance (opposite of Twilight who has plenty of alcohol tolerance).

Wrong: Loid doesn't have a gripe about you oversleeping. And the girls are not right.

Wrong!: You don't need to have a mandatory gripe just because someone has a gripe.

Wrong (Overthinking alert!): Yor is not drowning away her sorrows in alcohol 🤣

Yor: Loid is upset at me because I'm not upset about anything 😱!

No, Yor. Men are uncomplicated creatures. The less amount of complaints, the happier they are.

Remember this big monologue about how good Twilight is at reading his wife?:

How did we go from that to this:

Twilight's face is priceless 🤣🤣🤣

Twilight: What do you mean l don't make you happy 😱😢?

Wow, it really looks like a legit fight from here...

By the way, this is how Twilight sees his wife: 🙂 little ball of sunshine 🌞

Thought like a true (married) man: apologize first, find out what happened second 🤣🤣🤣

The poor man doesn't even know what his wife is talking about but there he is apologizing...

Okay, this is important. I think this panel is foreshadowing!! When everything is discovered, Yor will probably be very upset at him for lying to her and there's a chance Twilight is going to say this to Yor. Meaning: He's going to show her how much she loves her with his actions and dedicate his life to making her happy 💖

Help me out: Did Twilight told Yuri to shut up or was it Yor? I don't see her saying that to her little brother, so it must have been him 🤔🤣

Well, look who's having some nice character development 😏 lt's great seeing Yor set some boundaries with her brother. Our girl is becoming an assertive woman 😌 Well done,Yor!

No, Twilight, you don't get it. Yor is not going to slip and say her marriage is fake because for her it's not fake anymore. This whole dumb fight is about one very important thing: Yor wants her marriage to be normal. That's why she tells Yuri to butt out and calls herself Mrs. Forger. (Even Yuri notices it).

Replace "patients" for "spy work" and Yor has a point. And after hearing this, Twilight will do his best to spend more time with his family 😁 That's how the ball will start rolling 😏

And look who watches cartoons with Anya 😏 He's more like an older sibling than an uncle 🤭

Yor isn't fake married anymore. That's why she's relieved her husband is not cheating on her. And yes, not having gripes is a good thing! (Alcohol is bad for relationships 🤔)

There's more serious stuff to talk about in this chapter but I'll do a separate thread for that with a couple of fun theories 😉