#mr pink fanfiction

[imaginesbymk]

RESERVOIR DOGS PREFERENCE

BEING UNCONVENTIONAL LOVERS

Pairing: Reader Insert x Mr. White (Larry), Mr. Orange (Freddy Newandyke), Mr. Blonde (Vic Vega), Mr Pink + “Nice Guy” Eddie 

Tags: crime, mention of cops, violence, weapons (i.e Tarantino film)

Taglist - @locke-writes @aryn-the-bearheart @littlemissvincentvega (for boost <3)

A/N: happy 2025! gifs were selected through the gif search feature, i do not own any of them. i am slowly coming back from hiatus ! this prompt was a bit off and i did the best i could writing for them in this scenario so enjoy and leave a like/reblog/feedback <33 ^.^

MR. PINK x OC FIC | COMMISSION ME

MR. WHITE ( LARRY ) —

You were paired up with Larry for a robbery back in another state. He questioned why he's paired with an "amateur" and gets pissed at his boss for recruiting him with you. But during training, he grew to respect your skills and your wits and soon, it was you two stealing a kiss in the getaway car. But as soon as the cheque came in, you two became strangers. He has only spoken of you once when Joe asked that one time, but he does not speak of you ever again after that. That doesn't mean the attachment is no longer there. He thinks of you every now and then, but he knows that parting ways is the step afterwards. That's just how it is. Your affair with Larry would put you and his job and safety at risk and he has too much blood on his hands dating back to year whatever. This was his life and he knew you were better than him. Larry can't help it. He blindly lets his humanity win. When you two reunite again at a job or a pit stop diner, you two pick up where you left off and get in a stolen car and flee to Vancouver.

MR. ORANGE ( FREDDY NEWANDYKE ) —

It's pretty obvious; he's a cop and you're a robber. You end up getting recruited by an LA crime boss named Joe Cabot and you meet the last man who was handpicked and not from the roster. Freddy is immediately drawn to you but he just acts casual in his "criminal" character. You're so smitten by this guy that you feel like there's something off. He's committed to the assignment given how bold he was to snag the opportunity to work undercover, but once his romantic/sexual attraction to you interferes with his double life, he starts to spiral at the wrong place and the wrong time. He feels guilty for deceiving you like this, and he starts to fear for his own safety. The dynamic between the two of you is similar to his relationship with Mr. White, where Larry grows to be protective over Mr. Orange, letting his emotions and humanity get in the way. With you, his romantic/sexual relationship with you is one-sided because you do not even realize you hooked up with an undercover cop - and he even knows your name.

MR. BLONDE ( VIC VEGA ) —

Unhinged and violent, Vic is what Mr. White described as a "fucking psycho." You know better than to mess with him, but the second he's fresh out of prison and enjoying whiskey at a bar for the first time in years... he sees you dancing by the jukebox and he's already onto you. You wondered why... you only worked a normal job, you weren't a private dancer or a thief. Vic carries himself so well and you loved the rush despite knowing the consequences. You expected movie dates or a trip to Vegas, and he grants them to you, unless he laughs and says no because he doesn't feel like it. Though he showers you with the high life and adores you more than anything, he was given too much privilege and safe passage in his life before and after going criminal to fully understand the damage he causes for sport and power. The lifestyle often blinds you, so you look for a sign that you're not like Vic and that there's a chance to build a normal life with him... but that's extremely unrealistic.

MR. PINK —

Pink can't date someone who is sheltered and naively does not grasp the harsh realities of the world, nor can it be a current career criminal who chooses to leave the life of crime. It doesn't matter how careful you are and the clean slate you earn, you're still leaving breadcrumbs behind. As much as he tries to live a "normal" life with you, he can't stay in one spot for a long time. He has to constantly move to avoid detection and avoid red zones where he risks getting caught by cops or a rival gang. Plus, he's mainly looking out for himself, which deems him selfish in a way. When you won't go away, he blames you for falling in love with him in the first place, while also blaming himself for letting his emotions slip for one person and putting his job and security on the line. When he painfully succumbs to it, he ultimately pays the price.

"NICE GUY" EDDIE CABOT —

You're an overworked nurse and you fall in love with an underboss and co-leader of a crime family in Los Angeles. Eddie represents a shadow and treats the Cabot criminal business as an empire, so of course he is fiercely loyal and assertive to his Dad, especially when they conspire and recruit the men to rob the jewelry store. You already know what would likely happen if he was held at gunpoint and was forced to choose between you and the family business. He's also aware that he's putting you at risk if he is romantically or sexually involved with you. In most cases, he can't help but call you to help treat wounded or injured criminals on-site. Just finding excuse after excuse to bring you along with him because he trusts you and believes in your skills. When you've seen too much, you question how he has become so desensitized and asks if he would ever consider stepping down and settling down with you. You then remind yourself that Eddie is loyal and will never leave his Dad's shadow. He's not going anywhere.

[thegreeks]

A Most Unexpected Surprise

Read Part 2 Here

Warning: pregnancy, children

Synopsis: Telling your husband Mr. Darcy you are to be expecting a second addition to the family

It was a bright morning in March, and the sun streamed through the elegant windows of Pemberley, casting warm patterns on the carpeted floor. The household was abuzz with preparations, for today was a special day—although it was just another ordinary day for Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and you, his devoted wife.

In the master bedroom, you stood before your ornate mirror, admiring the simple lavender dress you had chosen for the day. Your hair was loosely gathered, a few tendrils falling gracefully around your face. You felt a strange mix of excitement and nervousness as you placed a hand delicately over your abdomen. The swell was subtle yet unmistakable, signaling the arrival of your second child.

Ever since the birth of your first daughter, Louisa, your love for Mr. Darcy had only deepened. He had shown unexpected joy in fatherhood—softening the once formidable exterior that captivated your heart. Yet, the news of a second child had taken you by surprise. You had hesitated to tell him, worried how he would react as the weight of his responsibilities as a gentleman weighed heavily on his shoulders.

“Darcy,” you called, your voice echoing softly in the large room. You turned, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your dress as he entered, tall and dignified, with an air of casual elegance about him.

“Good morning, my dear,” he replied, a hint of a smile gracing his lips as he strode toward you. He reached for your hand and gently squeezed it, a touch that sent warmth through you. Every morning, you marveled at how one look from him could envelop you in a sense of completeness.

“Are you ready for our walk today?” he asked, tilting his head as he studied you.

You hesitated and took a deep breath. “Darcy, there is something I wish to discuss.”

His dark brows knitted together slightly, a flicker of concern in his eyes. “What troubles you, my love?”

You felt the gravity of the moment and said, “I have news.” Your heart raced as you continued, “You are to become a father once more.”

His expression shifted instantly from concern to astonishment. “You are… pregnant?” His voice was a mixture of disbelief and joy, his stature seeming to fill the room.

“Yes,” you said softly, feeling a smile bloom on your lips at the sight of his reaction. “I am about three months along.”

Darcy stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a fierce embrace. “Oh, my sweet wife!” he exclaimed, his voice muffled against your hair. “This is wonderful! A second child! I never thought…” He gently pulled back enough to look into your eyes. “You do realize that this means you will be responsible for an increase in my happiness, do you not?”

You giggled at his playful concern, your heart swelling with affection. “And you, Mr. Darcy, are already responsible for far too much of my happiness.”

“As I ought to be,” he replied with a wink, before his gaze shifted to your belly. “I can hardly believe it. A son, perhaps?”

“Or a daughter,” you teased.

“Either would be a miracle,” he said, a look of admiration crossing his features. “But I confess, a son would be rather preferable—an heir to carry on the Darcy name.” His tone quirked slightly with that familiar touch of pride.

“Well, we shall see,” you replied, placing your hand tenderly on your abdomen. “For now, let’s enjoy this moment. After this child arrives, life will be quite the adventure.”

Darcy chuckled, that warm, rich sound that made your heart flutter. “Ah, and what an adventure it has already been. My wife, my fierce and innovative companion, and now the nurturer of our growing family.” He paused, placing his hand over yours, resting on your belly. “I promise to be the father and husband you deserve.”

With hearts entwined and promises exchanged, the two of you took your first steps toward an unforgettable journey together. Hand in hand, you walked through the breathtaking landscapes of Pemberley, sharing dreams and laughter, envisioning the future that unfurled before you like the blossoming flowers of spring.

As you strolled and chatted, you realized that love, faith, and family are what shape a happy life, and with Mr. Darcy by your side, you were certain you could embrace all the surprises that awaited you. Each day was a story waiting to be written, and together, you would create a beautiful tapestry of moments—both sweet and profound—as your family grew.

Your heart brimmed with love and hope, for in the eyes of Mr. Darcy, you found not only a beloved husband but a partner ready to navigate the joys and challenges of life together, one cherished step at a time.

[radlyradar]

Sharing a moment.

Mr. Pink/Mr. Brown or Mark Nussy/Dennis Koonstock

AO3 LINK

Chapter one: 1021 words, full chapter here and AO3 :D

Fix-it, mild annoyance to lovers

Mark is a clingy person, but does he really want Brown to know that?

Brown stares at his sandwich as he tunes out Brown’s rant. Something about lions or some shit that he had stopped paying attention to when he had started using his ‘fun fact’ voice. They had just finished scouting a path to get away from the bank, and Brown had suggested they go eat before they went home. “Don’t you think it means something?” his question snaps Mark out of it.

"What?” “Lions man, They’re scared of honey badgers when they’re like born. Like instinct or something.” He’s way too excited, but Mark decides to humor him. “How's that?” Brown’s eyes light up, as he starts talking again. Mark stares back down at his sandwich, still following his words. Something about his food looked wrong, he glances over at Mark’s half eaten sandwich. “Yeah, that sounds fake.” Mark drags his eyes up to Brown’s. “It’s not! Swear on my mother!” “Careful, you may be out of a home without her.” This successfully got Brown to chuckle. Something about making him laugh always makes Mark feel accomplished.

“How's your food?” “It’s alright.” A blatant lie, both of them know the sandwich hasn't been touched. Brown picked up a chip and ate it. Then offers one to Mark, “I have my own fucking chips.” “But I want to give you some of mine. You don’t look like you’re enjoying yours.” “It’s the same chips.” Brown only held the chip out further. “Is it really?”

Brown smiles and something about that infuriates Mark. It’s not, they both know it’s not the same.

“You’re a real asshole you know?” Mark mutters as he snatches it away.

===

It’s dark already when Brown drove him home. They stop at a gas station. “Why’d we stop?” “I wanted to get a snack.” Brown gets out of the car, almost skipping away. Mark groans and sinks in his seat watching Brown until he walks out of view. He looks in the backseat to see his sandwich. He’s been like this all his life, he’d rather share something than enjoy it alone. He was always painfully aware of how this contradicted his usual disposition. Still, he couldn’t help it some people just made him- “I couldn’t find those chips you like so I just got these.” Brown tosses him a bag. “What the fuck are these?” Mark picks up the Dorito 3Ds. “Doritos!” Mark stares at him, “These are not Doritos.” “It says Doritos.” “Why are they puffy?” “They’re not puffy, they're 3D!” Brown’s smiling, Mark just rolls his eyes and tossed the chips back. “I’m fine, not hungry anyways.” Mark turns away and stares out the window, onto the sidewalk where the fluorescent lights weaken and the darkness starts to swallow any detail in the cement. “Why are we not moving?” Mark asks as he hears Brown crunching on some chips. “I just wanted to eat first. Do you want any?” Mark just holds his hand out. When he’s given the chip he puts it in his mouth before even looking at it. They follow the same pattern that they’ve seemed to fall into during the time they’ve known each other. Brown ate, then offered him some, Mark took it and Brown ate some more. It’s a system that makes sense. Mark likes that about Brown. He makes sense.

“Alrighty time to go!” The car starts and Brown smiles over at him. Mark turns back. As the car starts moving, Mark looks down at the empty bag of Doritos and turns back to the window.

===

Brown stops at a building a few blocks away from Mark’s apartment. He didn’t want him knowing exactly where he lived. As Mark gets out Brown says something that surprises him. “Hey I know we’re not supposed to be all buddy-buddy, but today was fun.” Brown isn’t sure how to respond, he looks at his friend- his coworker’s face. So he just nods and asks “Can we do this again? Maybe get pizza.” “I don’t know...not really professional is it?” When Mark says this Brown seems to deflate. “Yeah, you’re right, have a good night Pink.” Brown starts the car and drives away. He feels his chest tighten with regret. Regret? Really? Over Brown? The guy who talks about stupid hidden meanings and weird conspiracy theories all day? Mark pushes it away, making it a problem to deal with another time, as he walks in his apartment. Turning on the lights. He’s felt a lot of emotions over his new friend, most being quite disturbing to realize. Like his fondness of him. Mark finds genuine comfort in him, for years he’s felt something like this but now he has and it's him? He loves listening to his stupid rants and getting into pointless arguments with him. What did it mean? Ring ring! Mark walks over to the phone and picks it up, he wasn’t expecting a call. “Hello?” he asks. “Hey. Pink?” Brown’s voice comes from the other end. Mark felt his heart do something funny, though the reason was something that eluded him. “Hey, Brown… What’s up?” He cringes at his own words. “I just wanted to check if you got home safe, I know we’re not supposed to use our numbers for this but-” “Yeah I’m home.” “Yeah, cool, okay. I should go.” Brown says, but he doesn’t, thank god he doesn’t because that gives Mark some time. “Brown, you know what you were talking about yesterday, with the pizza?” “Yeah?” “I changed my mind, I think it’d be fun, and um. Help us with coordinating later.” His words come out fast and he can’t help but feel embarrassed. “Really? Cool, how about Friday, I’ll pick you up at umm.” Mark can hear Brown shuffling through some papers. “six?” “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll make sure to bring a movie.” “Yeah.” Something in Brown’s voice makes Mark’s chest feel light. “I’ll see you then.” Mark hangs up and sits on his bed. Why did he feel like this, excited and nervous? He covered his face as his mind ran rampant with confusion and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

[hotpinkboots]

Could you write A fic where reader comforts a sick Mrs Lovett please?☺️

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~Sick!𝓜𝓻𝓼. 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓽𝓽 x Reader Headcanons~

~~~~~~~~~~

MRS. LOVETT MY BELOVED. We really need to fish her out of the furnace. Maybe we can piece her back together...she's probably fine, right

Summary: So, it turns out that being around the deathly smell of corpses all day long isn't good for anyone, no matter how used to the smell they may be.

Note 1: This is 100% safe for people with emetophobia to read.

Note 2: For any violent fics I write (such as this one), I will be using warning tags so you can filter them out if needed.

Warning(s): Sickness, corpses, mentions of cannibalism, blood, mentions of death/murder, mentions of body horror, rotting, gore

~Enjoy~

★★★★

𝓜𝓻𝓼. 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓽𝓽

★★★★

~After getting used to the stomach churning smell of rotting, peeling flesh, lovely Mrs. Lovett had assumed she'd be fine.

~She worked with corpses all day, anyway, and nothing had happened to her. She hadn't fallen ill.

~Heaving the bodies up into the meat grinder. Using sharp knives that easily could bust a blood vessel with one slice to chop off fingers and toes. She was no longer disgusted by the iron scent of blood that occasionally splattered onto her dress when she was careless about work that day.

~But her body certainly didn't agree with it.

~She eventually found herself feeling rather ill and unwell, but of course, she had to keep going. It's not like she could stop now, when the bodies were piling up and people wanted to be fed.

~Her shop was finally doing well, thanks to the "secret ingredient". She was not only feeling ill, but was overworked, as well, people left and right to feed and serve.

~And one day, it eventually caught up with her. Lovett simply couldn't handle it anymore, and found herself sick. This was going terribly. How could she keep up? Sweeney couldn't do all the work himself.

~Ah, but she had one last resort. Her lovely, loyal friend, perhaps the only other person in the world she could trust with with a morbid secret.

~You, of course!

~You've come to help out in the shop when since she's down for the count.

~She appreciates the work you do around the shop for her while she's sick, and offers to pay you for doing it.

~Would like if you read to her for awhile to get her mind off of how ill she feels.

~Always reaches over to give your hand, arm, or knee a thankful little squeeze.

~Mrs. Lovett also insists that you don't spend TOO much time around her, though, worried that she'll get you sick as well.

~She think it to be sweet that you come to check on her every now and then.

~When she's better, she'll look at you fondly and kiss your forehead in thanks while she gives you a brief ruffle to the hair. She wants to make sure that you know she appreciates you taking care of her.

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Request Guidelines!

Join my Discord server! We have movie nights, art prompts, a lot of places to ramble about your hyperfixations, and a ton of cool people to meet and roleplay with!:

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~Love, PinkBoots

Reblogs Appreciated!

[pinguwrites]

In The Light of the Moon | Thomas Shelby

Pairing -> dark!thomas shelby x innocent!reader

Summary -> Having enough of being mistreated by your family, you decide to runaway to the small town of Birmingham. There, you meet the feared gangster, Thomas Shelby, whose intentions with you are less than pure.

Warnings -> smut (minors dni), kinda dark tommy, innocent!reader, mentions of abuse, p in v, anal, oral (both sides), fingering, allusion to stalking, bunny pet name (briefly, as a joke), lingerie, spanking, very light breeding, bleeding, pain, first time for reader

Word count: 5k

Disclaimer: Peaky Blinders characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” Tommy asked, taking a quick drag of his cigarette, the white smoke curling up in the cold, bitter air.

You hugged your body with your arms and averted your eyes. “Sir, I have to go home. It’s almost night.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, amused. “Home? The streets?”

You didn’t have anything to say to that. You were sleeping on the streets, ever since you ran away from your abusive family in London. You had nothing with you but a bag of sandwiches you were carefully portioning, some cash, and the things you were wearing — a light skirt with intricate pink patterns and boots.

“Are you here just to make fun of me?” you said, a little annoyed.

He stepped forward and brushed his fingers against your cheek. You shuddered at the feeling, involuntary leaning into his warm touch, but then you realized what you were doing and backed away.

“Such a pretty girl,” he complimented. When you pulled away, he stopped his caressing, but he didn’t bother to create space between you two. No, he seemed to like the way things were. “Where’s your family?”

“You don’t need to know,” you huffed. You were trying to sound intimidating, but your tone betrayed your emotions. You were vulnerable, without a clue of what to do.

He laughed. “You have some bite, sweetheart. Tell me, what’s your name? I told you mine.”

You hesitated.

“What’s your name?” he repeated, more forceful. “Or do you just want me to call you girl? Perhaps bunny?” He chuckled. “You’re cute like one. Ought to get you some fluffy ears and tail, maybe a collar . . .”

“I’m not a bunny!”

This man was embarrassing you. Why’d he have to say things like that? The idea of you wearing an outfit like that, probably provocative based on the manner he was suggesting, made you feel small and upset. How could he say such things so freely?

“Then what’s your name?”

You grumbled but told him anyway.

“Good girl.”

You ignored the way his words made your body tingle and warm up in all the wrong places.

“Now, did you run away?”

“Why are you so curious?” you questioned, not wanting to tell him. What if he got in contact with your family and found out about the reward they were offering for your return?

“Because you’re a strange girl who shouldn’t be here, on my fuckin’ property, and I like to know who goes on my property and why.”

“Are you a gangster, Mr. Shelby?”

You were starting to think this man wasn’t just some wealthy mayor, but rather a criminal, the kind you were always warned about. He was far too crass to be of a higher class, but he certainly had power, or he wouldn’t be acting this way.

Tommy took another puff of his cigarette. “Ah, so you know a thing or two. Thought you’d be stupid.”

“I’m not—” you cut yourself off, not wanting to engage in such useless conversation. “We’re done here. Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.”

He grabbed your wrist before you could leave. “You think I’m letting you go out there, alone? With no family to keep you safe, no man to protect you? No. You’re coming home with me. I’ll give food, shelter, nice clothes,” he tugged at your dirty dress, “a place to sleep. How does that sound?”

“I don’t even know you!” you sputtered out. “I can’t go to a stranger’s house and live with them.”

His eyes darkened. “And what is the alternative? Lay on concrete? Starve to death? Wait for some bastard to come along and hurt you the way sick men like to hurt little girls?”

You were at a loss. You had nothing to say, no argument to defend yourself. Staying at Tommy’s place sounded comfortable, but you couldn’t.

“I—I can’t.”

Tommy sighed and pulled you closer to him. “I’m just telling ya’, you wouldn’t be a burden on me. I won’t harm you, and I won’t touch you if you don’t want it.”

“You’re touching me right now!”

"There's a difference," he growled, pushing you up against him, his face inches from yours. "I'm protecting you. Do you think I’d hurt you?”

You whimpered, scared. “N-no. I—I don’t know!” you stuttered. “I barely know you, Mr. Shelby.”

You turned your head so you didn’t have to be so close to him, or look him directly in the eyes.

“You’re staying with me,” he said in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“. . . Yes, sir,” you breathed out, flustered at the close proximity.

===

Tommy led you back to his apartment. He got you some food and water, a cozy room to sleep in, and a hot bath. He was so generous with everything, and though you were cautious of him at first, you couldn’t help but let your fantasies run wild.

Before you could start daydreaming, Tommy entered the washroom, holding something behind his back.

You shrieked. You had just gotten out of the water and were drying yourself off with the towel, but it was too small to cover your entire body. You squeezed your legs together and covered your chest.

“You can’t be in here!”

Tommy laughed and ignored your words. “Why not? It’s my place.” But he looked away. “You were taking a while, that’s why I came in. I was worried.”

“I’m fine, you can leave now.”

“And what will you wear?”

You didn’t think of that. He hadn’t given you any clothes yet.

He showed you what he was holding, but it didn’t even look like proper clothing, rather undergarments and a skimpy top. You stared at it for a moment, before realizing he was expecting you to take it.

“I can’t wear that,” you protested.

He sighed. “‘I can’t do this’, ‘I can’t do that’, when are you going to learn to do as I tell you? I want to see you wear this, so wear it.”

You didn’t complain after that, though you did hesitate. You made him turn around while you changed, trying to fit the skimpy clothing on your body.

The bra was white and comfortable, but it would easily slip down if someone wanted it to. It accentuated the curve of your tits. It was the sexiest thing you’d ever worn, and you felt horrified at the thought of Tommy seeing you in this thing. It made you feel like a . . . like a prostitute.

The panty barely covered your ass. It was all hanging out for show. What is the point of such outfits? It’s useless! you thought.

“You can turn around now, sir. Just, please don’t stare.”

He did stare, he stared at every part of you like a hungry beast, ready to tear his prey apart. You felt wanted under his gaze, but the whole situation was making you feel a little uncomfortable. You weren’t used to behaving like this, you weren’t used to being around men like Tommy. It was all so new and daunting.

“Walk towards me,” he ordered.

You did so, hugging your body with your arms — a bad habit. Your tits were bouncing slightly with every step, but you made sure it wasn't too obvious. You couldn't help but wonder what your family would think if they saw you like this.

How have you gone from being a rich girl to living on the streets to the arms of a handsome gangster?

“Oh, that’s a nice view, sweetheart.” He licked his lips. “Turn around now.”

You did that as well.

“You see that scrubber on the floor?”

You looked, spotting the thing you used to wash yourself. It must have fallen at some point.

“Yeah, do you want me to pick it up?”

“That’s right.”

You knew your bum would be clear to him if you did, but it was your fault it was on the floor, and you felt bad about it. It was your obligation to pick it up, right? You didn't want to be a poor guest.

"Don't look."

You bent over and picked it up. Mr. Shelby let out a heavy sigh and you immediately felt something poking your behind. He was pressing his body up against you! You tried to get up, but he pushed you back down, holding your waist and shoulder so you didn’t fall over.

“What are you doing?!” You couldn't move with the way he was holding you. It was such a compromising situation, what was he trying to pull?

“You’re so easy,” he groaned. “You don’t question why I want you to wear those things? Or maybe you do know . . . dirty girl.”

He picked and placed you over his shoulders, carrying you through the apartment hallways. He led you over to his room, placing you down on his bed despite you smacking your hands against his back.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me!”

“Only if you didn’t want it. But you want this, don’t you?”

“No!” You tried to get off his bed but he pushed you back down with a thud. “. . . Maybe. I don’t know! I’ve never done this before."

You didn't even know what exactly he wanted to do with you. You were vaguely aware of promiscuous activities ungentlemanly men got up to at night, and that it could sometimes result in babies, but you were uneducated on the details.

His gaze softened. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I know you’re a virgin. I’ll be gentle at first, okay?” He gave you a rough kiss, his tongue flicking against your bottom lip.

"Mmph!"

You tried to push him off you but he wouldn't have any of it. He pinned your arms above your head and continued to ravish you, nipping at your neck with his teeth, running his hands all over your body — your arms, your stomach, your thighs, all the way down to your feet.

His lips finally left yours, but before you could say anything, they were back on.

You couldn't deny, it felt good. This was the best you'd ever felt your entire life, even more so than that one time your desires got the best of you and you tried touching yourself, though that was probably because that time resulted in a swift confession and punishment.

Tommy started grinding his hips between your legs, making you moan against his mouth. He pulled away, still rolling his body. "See? You're enjoying it." He let go of your hands, to which you immediately gripped the back of his shirt. “I know you want this,” he continued. “Say you want this.”

You didn’t say anything, too overwhelmed to respond. You weren’t sure what you wanted.

He stopped and you whined.

“Say you want this,” he said, his nose brushing up against yours. “Say you want me to fuck you.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Shelby. I shouldn’t . . .”

“But you should,” he convinced. “I won’t dump you after I’m done. I’ll take care of you. You’ll live here, with me, okay? You’ll be my sweetheart, my pet.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, but you placed your hands against his chest.

“I don’t know how to have—how to,” you struggled to find the words.

“How to what? Fuck?” He laughed. “I’ll teach ya’. What do you know?”

It felt weird saying it out loud, but you did. “A man and a woman need to be married,” — Tommy huffed at that — “and a man is supposed to take his . . . well, I’m not sure, but he’s supposed to take a part of him and put it inside a woman’s privates.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” he said, but he didn’t look upset at your lack of knowledge. “I’ll show you, but first I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you?”

You nodded your head slowly in anticipation, not ready for how vulgar it was going to be.

“I’m going to split you open on my cock and fuck you till you go dumb,” he said, grabbing his crotch. “This thing here, it’s called a cock, and I’ve got the best one you’ll ever see.” He pulled it out, a hard length, too long and thick to possibly fit in you. It was throbbing, with some type of liquid leaking out the top. “Look at it. This is what I’m going to ram inside your holes — all three of them.”

Your breathing hitched and you gasped. “All of them? I don’t understand—”

He interrupted you by forcing two of his fingers down your throat, making you gag and sputter, tears welling up in your eyes. “My cock will go inside your mouth first. It’ll make me feel good. I’ll teach you how to suck properly, how to lick, how to swallow.”

He removed his now wet fingers, letting you relax for a brief moment, but then he flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled your panties down, giving a nice, hard slap to your ass.

You yelped.

He spread your cheeks apart and pushed his finger in your hole, just a little bit, to give you the idea. You squirmed. It didn’t hurt that much, but you were sure if he went further in it would.

“Then here, sweetheart. We’ll spend a lot of time here. It’s always been my favorite.”

You thought about how his cock was supposed to fit in there. His fingers already felt too big. 

“It won’t fit—”

“—It will. I’ll shove it in until it does.” 

His hand snaked under your stomach and down between your legs. “And here.” He brushed his fingers against your folds and over your entrance. “Your pussy. I’ll fuck it, and you’ll take it, like the good girl I know you are.”

You felt your heart beat against your chest like it was going to jump out. In excitement or fear, you did not know.

“Will it hurt?”

“Yes, and it may even bleed, but only for a while. I promise I’ll make it feel good. Now, flip over and spread your legs.”

You rested on your back and widened your legs, wondering what he was going to do when he placed a pillow under your hips, moved your panty to the side, and kissed your pussy with fervor.

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, the sensation feeling warm and weird.

“I need to get you ready, and I want to show you what an orgasm feels like.”

“An orgasm?”

“You’ll see.”

He flicked his tongue over your bud, sucking on it, holding your hips in place. It felt like heaven, enough to make you forget your guilt and focus on the way he was eating you out. 

“Oh,” you moaned softly, looking down at Tommy. He was looking up at you, observing your reactions, trying to see if this made you feel good or that. He was doing it with such precision, too. It felt sloppy and messy, the sounds of his kisses a loud pucker, but it couldn’t have been unthoughtful, because it felt so good.

He kept doing it. Your body was tingling as he started to get more passionate, finally pushing his tongue inside your pussy.

“Huh,” you let out.

“I’m going to put my fingers inside now,” he told you. “Just relax.” He slid his hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “Relax.”

You loosened your tense muscles and rested your head on the pillow. You shut your eyes, trying to let your thoughts go blank, but the sudden intrusion of his finger was too painful for you to ignore.

“It hurts,” you whispered.

“I’ll go slower.”

He pushed in a little further. He wasn’t going slower, or at least, it didn’t feel like he was.

“How much more needs to go in?”

“About three more quarters of what’s already there,” he guessed. “But I’ll need to put two more fingers in after that, and then my cock.”

You looked down at his cock. It was still open, hanging firm out of his trousers. Huge and thick and fat. You were sure he was lying when he said it would fit. You imagined him trying to push it in, but failing, because how could that possibly make its way inside you?

“I wish it didn’t hurt, sweetheart. I wish I could take away your pain.”

Now his finger was halfway through. It was like someone had placed an object where it was not meant to be. How could this be natural if it was so painful?

“Just a little bit more.” He continued running his other hand up and down your thigh. “You’re taking it so well.”

He pushed the rest of it in, letting it stay for a bit.

“Shh,” he soothed. He brushed your hair out of your face, curling his finger inside. “You’re alright, you’ll be alright.”

He pulled his finger out. There was a bit of blood on it, mixing with your clear juices. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, looking away. It was disgusting.

“No, don’t apologize. It’s normal. I won’t have you feeling ashamed of yourself.”

He added another and did the same thing. Eventually, he was pushing in and out at a slow, steady pace. It was horribly painful, but it was starting to feel a little good, especially with the way he started licking your pussy again.

“One more. Just one more.”

You cried out. “Too much!”

He didn’t respond.

Your walls were being stretched, and you felt like you were a stretchy piece of fabric about to get ripped apart. But the pleasure of his tongue managed to counter it a little.

You felt a strange sensation in your belly, coupled with pain.

“I—I,” you tried to say.

“I know. Come for me, sweetheart. Come on my fingers.”

You came — whatever that meant. You felt like you were at some peak, a little dizzy in the head, with some substance leaking out of your body.

You panicked, worried it was something else, but to your shock, it was white, and Tommy was lapping it up.

“W-what’s that?”

“Your cum. It’s what happens when you orgasm.”

You nodded your head in understanding, even though you didn’t fully understand. It was like heaven, pure bliss, and as long as it was happening, you were fine with being ignorant. You just wanted to feel that way again, and you wanted to make Tommy feel that way, too. 

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Tommy took his cock in his hands and gave it a few pumps. You sat up. He pushed the tip to your lips and you gave it a lick. It was an alright taste. 

You looked up at Tommy nervously, running your fingers down his length.

“Just leave some kisses along it,” he instructed. “I’m not expecting your first time to be perfect.”

You did as he said. He didn’t make any noises, but you were observant and could tell his breathing was getting a little uneven. When you put his tip in your mouth, his hand went to the back of your head, guiding and gentle.

You pulled away. “Do I just . . . take it all?”

“Yes, sweetheart. It’s okay if you gag, just push it all the way in. Breathe through your nose.”

Calming your nerves, you slipped about a fourth of his cock into your mouth, wetting it, swirling your tongue around the way you did sweets like ice cream. 

“Use your hands for what can’t fit.”

You started pumping the rest of his length, the way you saw him do.

Tommy finally made a noise, a little groan. It made you feel more confident that what you were doing was right, so you started sucking more passionately, with more enthusiasm, taking in more of his length — enough to make a difference, but not enough to make you gag.

Tommy let out a little choke and started pushing your head down on him. “Think you can take all of it?”

You couldn’t say anything with your mouth filled, but it was a yes. You wanted to push yourself.

“Good.”

He gave a quick, experimental thrust into your mouth, one that made you gag. Tears welled up in your eyes, but it was gone after a few seconds. It was just so unexpected. It didn’t hurt much, it just felt odd and uncomfortable.

He kept thrusting, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside your mouth. Every time you thought it couldn’t go any further, he proved you wrong. Now you really were crying. You thought that maybe he would stop, but all he did was make a shushing sound and wipe away your tears.

You tried to make the experience as pleasurable as possible for him, and it seemed to be satisfying enough because he didn’t ask you to do anything different. He just had that blank stare, grunting, the only sounds in the room ones of him and the slurping noise you were making.

After a few more minutes, he told you he was coming, and forced you to swallow his sticky, white liquid. 

He pulled out and you coughed. 

You went to him for some comfort, but he was already leaving the room.

You were confused, your throat sore, but then he came back with a glass of water and a wet towel. He cleaned off your face and helped you drink. It made you feel much better.

“I’m tired, Mr. Shelby,” you said.

“Such a princess,” he responded. “Have to do some work once and decide you don’t like it? Just want your own pleasure?”

His words made you look down. Now that you knew how it felt to orgasm that was all you wanted to do, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t enjoy your mouth on Tommy’s cock. You were sure that you would get used to it after a few more times, and soon it would stop feeling so uncomfortable. 

“No.”

“It’s okay. All you have to do now is take it.”

You remembered his words. He was going to take your ass next. 

“Can’t we wait a bit—?”

“No,” he growled, pushing you on your hands and knees. “I’ve waited too fuckin’ long.”

Waited too long?

“And besides,” he continued. “Don’t you want this?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “But I just want a little break—”

He slapped your ass hard and you cried out. “What do I have to do to make you listen to me, huh? Is it a good spanking? ‘cause I can do that.”

“No,” you whimpered. “I’ll be good, m’sorry.”

He spanked you again, pulling your underwear all the way down and tossing it to the side of the room. “I think I do want to spank you. Pretty, rich girls like you don’t get much discipline, eh?”

You did, but you didn’t know how to say it.

He pulled your top down a little, to reveal some small scars. You knew he could see them, but you couldn’t see his reaction.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked.

“Yes, yes!”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means doing as you tell me, sir.”

Satisfied with your response, he rubbed your sore ass, trying to make it feel better.

He grabbed a bottle from the nightstand and applied it on his hands. “This is lube, sweetheart. It’ll reduce the friction.”

He slid his lubed-up finger in your ass and you hissed.

It was the same process he did with your pussy. He pushed in and out, stretching out your hole. It hurt, and you were sure it was bleeding a little, but after a while, it began to feel pleasurable.

Tommy’s fingers started rubbing your clit, distracting you from the pain. He pressed the tip of his fat cock in your ass, shoving it inside it.

“Mr. Shelby, slow down!” you squeaked out.

He didn’t listen. He pushed his cock further in, and it made you feel like your insides were going to snap if he stretched them too much.

“Mmm,” you winced, “is that all?”

“Fuck. That’s only half.”

Tommy held your shoulder with his other hand on your waist. “So tight,” he murmured, pushing further in. “You’re going to make a good pet, I can tell.”

The term was degrading, but you didn’t say anything, not like you had the guts to when he was inside you, not after he warned you that you would get a spanking if you didn’t behave like a good girl.

“Oh, Mr. Shelby.”

He pushed himself all the way in. You felt so full of his cock, and you had half a mind to ask him to stop. He was beginning to move, slowly at first, making sure that you were okay with it.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Tommy asked. The hand on your waist moved to your top, his fingers sliding underneath it.

“Y-yeah.”

“Good.”

He picked up the pace, his balls slapping against your body. Suddenly, the force of his thrusting was pushing you forward, the only thing stopping you from falling over was his grip. You cried out, the pain and pleasure too much for you to handle. 

Your breasts started to bounce, but their movement was being held by the top he gave you, which Tommy slowly pulled up. Tommy pinched your nipples, flicking them, twisting them, pulling on them, whatever he wanted. You whined, half-heartedly trying to shove him away, but while he did stop, he was still cupping your breasts in his hands, continuing to ram your ass. 

‘This is what I want from you,” he grunted, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper inside. “Most days, I’ll want to fuck you like this. I’ll — ah — I’ll expect you to be ready on your hands and knees when I tell you to.”

Occasionally, you could feel the scrape of his pants against your skin, reminding you that his clothes were still on. You moaned when he started rubbing your clit more vigorously.

“Spread your legs further apart,” he ordered.

You did, which only made him gain access to a deeper part inside of you. 

He continued his brutal assault for a couple more minutes until he changed his position. He forced you to lay down on your stomach while he draped his body over your back, thrusting stiff and rough. Now, he could start kissing your shoulders, the back of your neck, any part of your body he couldn’t reach before.

He finally came into your hole, his whiteness spurting out. You could feel it drip out and down your thighs. You tried to wipe it away but he wouldn’t let you.

He flipped you over on your back. He took off your top completely, admiring your naked body. Despite the fact that this man had just taken your virginity, his hungry stare made you cover yourself up. You supposed it was because you weren’t used to it.

“Oi!”

You immediately sprawled your body, fearing a reprimand. 

“There ya’ go.”

He grabbed another wet towel and wiped off your body. He told you it was important, to keep clean and safe.

As you expected, he didn’t give you much of a break. In this hour, you figured that he could only fuck you — or prefer to — when his cock was hard, and within a few moments, it was already starting to rise up.

Once he got his cock inside your pussy, all the way in, despite your squirms, he started fucking — rough, hard, and fast.

“So good,” he praised. “So good for me.”

You whined in response. He was gripping your waist like his life depended on it, making sure you couldn’t squirm or move away. 

“You’re learning so well. Keep still.”

His movements were making the bed and your body shake. You whined, pathetic mewls leaving your mouth. You really weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. Your limbs were starting to feel sore and your mind foggy, like if you didn’t take a break you would pass out from the sheer intensity of the moment alone.

But you didn’t want to. You fought to open your eyes. You didn’t want Tommy to know you couldn’t take it anymore, that would be embarrassing. 

He finally came inside of you, locking your hips together as he murmured something about your breasts getting bigger and swollen, which you didn’t understand, but didn’t ask for clarification regardless.

He pulled out and collapsed beside you, droplets of sweat trickling down his forehead. He was exhausted, and so were you.

After taking a few minutes to yourselves, Tommy said, “I’m never going to let you go, you hear me? Never.”

You didn’t say anything. Somewhere in all that fucking you had accepted your fate. You belonged to Thomas Shelby now, and that was just the way things had to be.

“I ran away,” you finally confessed. “My family . . . they weren’t nice to me. Promise me,” you said seriously, looking into Tommy’s beautiful eyes. “Promise me you won’t send me back. If . . . if you don’t want me anymore, you can just send me on my way, not back to them. Promise?”

Tommy laughed, as if what you had just said was absurd.

“I won’t let you go back to your family. Those oil bastards.”

You paused. How did he know they were in the oil business?

“How did you—?”

“Shhh.” Tommy placed a finger over your lips, silencing your words. “You’re tired. It’s time to sleep.”

“But—”

“Sleep.” He caressed your face, running his fingers through your hair. You couldn’t fight the command, you were truly feeling sleepy, and all you wanted to do was shut your eyes and rest.

But that nagging thought in your head. How did he know?

He didn’t give you any more time to think. He pulled you close to him, close enough so that your head was resting on his shoulder and your legs were draped over his body.

“Sweet dreams. Tomorrow we’ll have a few more rounds. You’ll need your rest.”

And with that, your eyes fluttered shut and you were taken away into the abyss of darkness, into your dreams. 

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@alice-drysdale

[honeylullaby]

“How beautiful you are, my girl.”

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by the lovely @laverna-fanfictions 🩷 / You trust your new boyfriend, Declan, enough to be your first..

18+ FANFIC / SMUT & Daddy Declan always 💋Short work. Reader character aged at 21.

Pulling periwinkle woollen socks over your glacial feet, you watched adoringly as Declan O’Hara kneeled by the fire, throwing jagged lumps of wood into the blazing fireplace. “There we are. That should keep us goin’ for a bit.” He beamed, rising to his feet and clapping his hands together to rid them of ash. The garden of The Priory was enveloped in a beautiful duvet of crisp snow, still falling and settling. Declan quickly snapped emerald curtains shut on the picturesque scene, and reached over the fireplace to turn on the radio. “And now, George Michael.” The tinny voice of the deejay spoke, promptly followed by Careless Whisper. “My favourite song!” You beamed, jumping to your feet and fiddling with the radio, increasingly the volume loud enough to make Declan’s face contort.

“Come here, you.” He sighed, pulling you tight to his chest — one hand wound around your waist, and one hand clamped onto yours. Declan was aware of your affinity to dancing and although not too partial himself, he would degrade himself enough to see the sparkling grin painted across your lips. Resting your rouged cheek against the warmed cotton of his taupe shirt, you pushed out an exhale. “I love you, Mr O’Hara.” You purr, fumbling over a few steps in your jumbled dance routine. “I love you too, girl.” Declan replies without missing a beat. He inched his face towards yours, chocolate moustache bristling against your lips. His sharpened eyes scanned your elegant button nose, your rounded lips, your twinkling eyes.

“Tonight, the music seems so loud.” George Michael warbled through the radio, as Declan crashed his lips against yours in passion, feral hands pulling at the hem of your golden satin dress. “Take it off.” He grunted, and you promptly pulled the dress over your head. Much to his pleasant surprise, the removal of your dress exposed your tremendous naked body — lustrously silky skin, huge breasts with rosy nipples and a neatly trimmed entrance to your soaking cunt. “Lie down.” Declan instructed, and you steadily lay against the shaggy mauve rug, adjacent to the fireplace. The stirring heat of the flames warming your blood, softening your nipples and coaxing you to spread your legs for your lover.

Stripping the constricting clothes from his person, Declan knelt on the rug to meet you, stroking his gargantuan cock, readying himself for entry. “Declan, wait, wait… I need to tell you something.” You splutter, covering your cunt with a hesitant hand. “What?” He interrogated, shuffling back in shock of your sudden outburst. “I’ve never… I’ve never actually… You know. Done this before.” You mumble.

Declan’s face portrayed quite the picture of bewilderment. You certainly suck my dick like you have, he thought to himself. “You’re joking, aren’t ‘ya?” He most certainly stifled a laugh as he spoke. “Why are you laughing?” You ask, sitting up on your elbows and furrowing your eyebrows in almost-fury. “I’m not, I’m not. Ya’ just…” He paused in disbelief, “Ya’ suck my dick like a fuckin’ porn star.” Chuckling to himself again and pinching the bridge of his nose softly, he was bracing himself for a swift smack on his arm… which you punctually delivered. “Declan! I’m being serious. I’m actually very nervous.” You mutter under your breath. “Well, do ‘ya want to? Do ‘ya t’ink ya’ ready?” Declan questioned, glaring at you expectantly with hazelnut eyes. All you could do was nod, and spit out a small ‘yes’ whilst removing your hand away from your wet spot.

Just the sight of your glistening, pink folds made Declan’s cock jump in excitement. You watched with bated breath as he inched towards you, grabbing a firm hold of your leg and resting it in the muscular crook of his shoulder. “Are ya’ definitely sure?” He asked again, and waited for your peep of a ‘yes’ once more. Lining the pink tip of his penis with your slick entrance, pushing himself into you at a painstaking pace — giving your body time to adjust to his sheer size. “My God, how beautiful you are, my girl.” The Irishman mumbled under his breath, his face twisted in pleasure. “Christ, how are you this fuckin’ wet?” His sultry voice growled, and in response, your muscles tightened around him, causing his eyes to clamp shut momentarily.

As he steadily begun to increase his pace, thunderous whimpers fell loosely from your mouth, toes curling at the newfound pleasure. “Fuck me harder, Declan. I can take it. I promise.” You plead, wisps of golden hair shadowing your leaf-green eyes. Following orders and placing his left hand on the mellow part of your waist, Declan thrusted himself into you with monumental vigour — his balls thumping against you and the delectable wet smack of your skin colliding with his providing the most stunning music to your ears.

Continuing his tempo for a mere matter of moments, Declan spat towards you, “Fuck me, I’m gonna cum already. Tighten it up for me again, girl.” You clenched your soaked cunt again, keeping yourself contracted around him. His resounding thrusts grew sloppy, and a droplet of sweat fell from his forehead, splashing onto the small of your back. Declan quickly pulled his cock out of you, straddling your chest with his fleeced thighs and pawing at his cock over your face. “Where do ya’ want it, love?” He spoke through gritted teeth. Without audibly replying, you open your mouth, waving a yearning pink tongue towards him. Grunting melodically, Declan released his hot load onto your tongue and watched as you swallowed it greedily. “Fuck, you taste so good.” You chime, licking across your lips and savouring the taste in its entirety. “Such a good girl.” He purred, stroking a rugged hand across your cheek.

[softtaemu]

To All the Fics I love(d) Before

Links to fics, blurbs and others for my own (and maybe, others) enjoyment | don't be afraid to message me if you want something taken down or if i typed something wrong !!

i love all the authors here pls make more content especially my dick, jason, poe and pines author pls pls

some of these i don't really remember but i made a rule to myself where if i truely enjoy a fic it goes into my liked folder

so what if they're mostly smut,,,

🍄 for my favs hehe

Poe Dameron

I. Mercy, Sabotage, And Dead Space 🍄

II. Rumors, Freebies, And a Race for Last Place - @no-droids 🍄

Give Me My Sin Again - @brandyllyn

Feels Right - @jake-g-lockley

The Hating Game - @light-yaers 🍄

The Heart of a Ship - @im-poe-dameron

Seeds of Love - @moonlight-prose

Aphelion Duology - @oscarseyebrow

Running to You - @dailyreverie

Deft Hands - @eyelessfaces

Better Safe Than Sorry Series - @eyelessfaces

Favor - @eyelessfaces

Stripper!Poe - @youvebeenlivingfictional

Directions - @zinzinina

Got it Bad - @sinisterexaggerator

The Idea of You - @st4rymoon

Sex pollen - @eyelessfaces

For Your Entertainment - @melodygatesauthor

Miguel O'Hara

Pequeña - @that-sokovian-bastardkovian 🍄

The Ideal Gaze - @bluesidez

Starved - @honestsycrets 🍄

Back Massages - @wyvernest

Love Drunk - @bruisedboys

Baker!reader x miguel fluff - @bruisedboys (untitled)

Love Bite - @madschiavelique

Touch - @loganlermanstanaccount 🍄

College roommated Miguel - @loganlermanstanaccount 🍄 (i'd put all their miguel fics but im too lazy)

Once Upon a December - @mrs-lockley

Churn - @luvrxbunny

Nerds During Exams ?? - @obxsprincess (untitled)

Dad bod!Miguel - @cupcakeinat0r

Miguel going beastmode in bed - @tired-biscuit

Honey-Sweet - @fettuccin-e 🍄

Next Door - @cherryredstars

Insoportable - @ovaryacted

Between Your Thighs - @intoxicated-chan

Miguel Love Strong Women - @sillysillygoofygoose

Take My Breath - @whatthefishh

Shower Sex - @miguel-ohara-lover

Let Me Wrap My Teeth - @psychedelic-ink

Tired Miguel eats you out - @dilfartist

Breeding kink - @buryustogether

Amazing Head - @loganlermanstanaccount 🍄

This Series - @devilfic

Convergence & Webs of Opacity- @runa-falls (to read)

Dick Grayson

Help Me, Help You - @tetzoro

Written All Over Your Face - @roturo

A very freaky blurb - @hanasnx (untitled)

Freaky bfb! grayson - @killakalx (untitled)

Shameless smut grayson - @liciaarchives (untitled)

Squirting (as a friend) bsf!dick - @killakalx (untitled)

Sex Pollen Dick - @uc1wa (untitled)

Sex Pollen Dick again - @martiniluvr (untitled)

Jason Todd

Dick Pic! Jason - @dxckgrxsonx (this isn't finished idk if it'll get continued pls do ella pls pls) 🍄

Big eyes Big dick blurb - @dxckgrxsonx

Jason's in charge - @martiniluvr (untitled)

Restroom Attendant - @sanguineterrain

My Lady, Oh Sorceress - @e-nonsense

Jason overstims himself - @dxckgrxsonx

I'll Prove It - @dxckgrxsonx

Bruce Wayne

Right Place, Right Time Series - @devilfic

Honeymoon Series - @devilfic

Sugar on the Rim - @mostly-imagines

Cape stealer fluff - @devilfic (untitled)

Bruce Being Cockblocked- @c-nstantine

Nocturnal Animal - @devilfic

Joel Miller

You Owe Me Series - @tofics 🍄

Texas Sweet - @coquettepascal (if i had a nickel for every back massage smut i had in this list i'd have two nickels) 🍄

Wild Like the West - @hellishjoel

Heavenly Bound - @ozarkthedog

Head Lightning - @shellshocklove

Honey-Do - @kiwisbell

A Matter of Time - @thriftedtchotchkes

Pretty in Pink - @lincolndjarin

Javier Pena

Whatever My Wife Wants - @javierpena-inatacvest

Not so Secret Santa - @lincolndjarin

Plans - @wayfaringhoax

Have You Ever Seen the Rain - @psychedelic-ink

Tu Sonrisa - @tokkiwrites 🍄

Constructive Critisism - @lincolndjarin

Moonknight Boys

What You Like - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (marc backseating steven so) Hand Covers Mouth - @juneknight

Steven Grant

Dry Humping - @eyelessfaces

Marc Spector (i ong love love me some dorm!marc content)

Precum Dorm! Marc - @juneknight

Dorm!Marc drabble - @juneknight

Obsessed - @juneknight 🍄

Accidental Stimulation - @spicyllewyn

Beneath His Breath - @juneknight

Jake Lockley

Stan Pines

Snapshots Series - @moonieandi 🍄

SPECIAL MENTIONS (RANDOM EDITION)

Mixed p eating (gotham ppl) - @killakalx

I'd watch him lick it off - @killakalx

@Cherryredstars' whole ass masterlist (bookedmarked cause i wanna read more)

The Legend of Mar'sol Series - @sirowsky Mandalorian x reader

Free use Miguel - @runa-falls

The Inn (witcher) - ao3

Sirowsky's masterlist

Siren - @chvoswxtch

[pshstar]

seonghwa library ! ♡⁠.

disclaimer !! the works in this masterlist are NOT mine. it was only compiled to help you (and me myself, lol) find and read fanfictions conveniently, and to show appreciation to the authors. enjoy reading

♡ - FAVEEE! | unmarked - planning to reread

— navigation

note: do inform me if there is an error to the links! just send me an ask or dm me

! the following fics contains smut !

favourites!

mr. popular | @wooyoungiewritings ♡

read for me, cry for me, moan for me | @pirateprincessblog ♡

teacher's pet, the heart wants what it wants | @hyuckilstan ♡

@tenelkadjowrites m.list (i love all of her hwa fics)

fucking ra | @songmingisthighs

late night activities | @kitten4sannie

dom estique | @hwanchaesong

unexpected company 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | @mia-tiny

bluff | @sm-entertain-me

better check twice | @essenteez

the thing about pretty boys | @wonusite

roommates | @auroumi

cheating | @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

rebound | @minkisluver

mine | @sluttyhwaa

fire and water | @wooyoungiewritings

bonnie on the side | @hwaightme

take me back | @hwaightme

bang bang | @hwaightme

seeking trouble | @hongcherry

hiding a vampire | @jonghoslvt

dancing with the devil | @bro-atz

after hours | @desirehorizon

pleasure of punishing | @songmingisthighs

warning signs | @mphountitled

home | @hwalloween

one last time , 2 | @bambikisss

daydreaming , 2 , 3 | @sluttywoozi

our secret | @hyungwonmyheart

his for the night | @honeyhotteoks

always and forever | @halotopicecream

migraine | hate | @kileaderie

all mine | @deadxxaccount

bloodsucker | @agustdiv1ne

pink rover | @1-800-shedevil

sleep talker | @mingigoo

slow it down, make it bouncy | @ryuyejiho

pink flags | @justaaveragereader

4:57 KST: Before the Boom! | @stardragongalaxy

rewards | @obligatoryidolblog

the hanged man | @starlitmark

aphrodite | @shinestarhwaa

impregnation | @hongism

cliché? cut! | @hwanchaesong

what's a soulmate? |@pocketjoong

[jillsandwhichs]

Midnight (Part Two)

Chapter 10 to Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist ★ Midnight (Part One)

Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: It has been a week since you made love with Joel. Ever since then, he's been on your mind. It's late at night and you need him; You crave him. Giving him a late night call can't be so bad, right?

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Slight friends/Hookup

WC: 3.1k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Smut — Making out, Dirty talk, Mutual masterbation, Protected P in V/Unprotected P in V, Missionary, Riding, Clit rubbing, You both finish, Breast play, Spanking, Aftercare

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

You glanced over at the clock. 8:45 PM. It feels like no time has passed, and not in a good way. You've been reading and studying for the past hour. You tend to overwork yourself so there's no surprise there. Still, you shouldn't. Before studying, you made yourself some dinner. It was some frozen, prepackaged dinner bowl with mashed potatoes, chicken and corn. Life has been rather uneventful.

Since exams are over with now, you haven't had much to focus on. Your mind has been all over the place but you realize it's been going somewhere rather particular repeatedly - Mr. Miller - Joel.

You haven't seen him since you stayed over at Sarah's but you've sure as hell thought about him. How could you not? The man had you ride him then he practically blew you off... Sort of... At least he gave you his number, which you did in fact hold onto. You put his digits in your phone and you two have texted but hardly. He's either working so he can't text or he's home, where he's very cautious about messaging you.

Unlocking your phone, you opened up his messages and began to re-read a few of them.

Wednesday:

"You there?"

"I'm here. What's up?"

"Just checkin' on you. Sarah showed me a photo of the two of you grabbing lunch earlier, you looked pretty."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

That was one thread from the other day. You two messaged a bit more as of yesterday.

Thursday:

"Joel."

"Yep?"

"I'm so horny right now."

"That so? Sorry darlin', can't do much for you, takin' Sarah out to dinner tonight. Surely you can alleviate yourself."

You remember reading that message and literally groaning to yourself.

"Seriously? Okay. Whatever."

"Don't get upset with me. Listen, stay up late enough and we can call, yeah?"

"Okay."

"Good girl."

You blushed when re-reading that specific text.

Shutting your phone off, you got up from your desk and walked over to your closet. You're still in your clothes from earlier today, the ones you wore to class. You sighed deeply as you skimmed through your closet before finally deciding on a sleepwear outfit. You chose a nightgown, but not any ordinary one. It has pink lace trim on the V neck area and on the bottom. The rest of it however is a white silky material.

It's cute. It's comfy. You removed your sweater and tossed it on your already cluttered floor. Admittedly, you haven't cleaned in awhile. You then unclasped your bra and tossed that onto the ground too, then dropped your jeans, but kept your panties on. The nightgown had a cold feel to it but you're sure your body will heat it up. You feel pretty wearing attire such as this.

You went to exit your room to begin your nighttime routine before you then stopped in your tracks, hands on the left and right edges of the door frames. What a great fucking idea. You giggled to yourself before turning around and picking up your phone, quickly unlocking it and making your way to the camera app. Joel better hope he isn't busy nor around Sarah right now, because you're about to send him a body pic.

You held the phone a bit away from your body before snapping the picture. It was sexy but not as seductive as you wished. You hummed to yourself before coming up with another idea. This one entailed you to lift your dress up, which you did with ease. You lifted the silky night down up to reveal your bottom, which your panties fit perfectly. You bit your lower lip and took the photo. Your ass looks great in it.

The ass photo paired with the body shot will be great. Hopefully it's enough to turn him on. You opened up the messaging app and sent this text along with both images, and a selfie you quickly took.

Friday:

"Missing you."

*Three attachments*

Now all you have to do is wait!

-

Not even a full ten minutes passed by before Joel texted you. It took you by surprise, truly.

"Where are you?"

Was his message. You cackled and kicked your feet back and fourth as you laid down on your stomach, messaging him back.

"Home. My apartment. Why?"

"You know why. What's your address?"

You giggled even more. Mission: Successful. You knew you'd be enticing enough. Quickly, you sent him your address and apartment number.

"Be there in a bit. Make sure you're ready."

You reacted to his message with a heart before getting out of bed. You spraying on some perfume, the one you know will get him going. The scent is Vanilla but it has a sweetness to it that's impossible to resist. You also gave your hair a quick brush, just to make it feel softer and appear healthier. It's hard to pin point what else you have to get done.

It is both a pro and a con that you live so close to the Miller's. Its nice because he'll be here quickly and as for Sarah, you can walk to her house and chill with her. It is a con because now you're feeling rushed and panicky. You need to just calm down. How can you though? Joel is coming over for the first time and presumably so you two can fuck. That's kind of a big deal.

Ambling out to the living room/kitchen area, you analyzed both rooms. They're decently clean and besides, you don't care either way. Your arousal is really blinding you. You wanted to get some wine out for the two of you but 1. You're sure he's a hardcore kind of guy and 2. He's definitely not planning to stay long. You're pretty much aware he's only in contact with you for sex but you don't care. It's best you'll get around these parts.

Until he gets here, you plan to relax. Lord knows you need to.

-

Knock, knock, knock.

He is here. You let out a deep breath before you then opened your front door. Right in front of you was Joel Miller. He smelt of leather, wood and a musky cologne. Gosh, it got you on your high horse. "Hello." "Hello?" He mocked you before chuckling and stepping into your apartment. You closed the door behind you and looked over at him. His eyes gandered your apartment with a nod.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" "Nah," he glanced over at you. "I want you." Joel stepped over and grasped your hips in his hands before he then pressed a longing and very much needed kiss to your lips. Fuck, you missed this. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his burly arms were quick to clasp you up into them. You giggled and kissed him again, this time your tounge slithered it's way into his mouth.

"Where's your bedroom?" He asked. "Just down the hall to your right." You whispered as you began to kiss his cheeks and neck. He had his hands resting on your ass as he carried you to your own bedroom. The door was slightly open and Joel used his boot to kick it open all the way. You can hardly believe it - Joel Miller is in your fucking apartment, in your personal room, about to fuck you. Prayers work.

Joel set you down on the edge of the bed and smirked. "You look pretty." He sat at your desk, removing his work boots that were quite frankly really dirty, then his shirt, leaving himself in only his jeans and socks. "Thanks." You replied. You couldn't help but stare at his chest. You want to feel it while he rails you. "Wanna do somethin' for me?" He questioned you. You simply nodded.

He got comfortable in your desk chair before chuckling. "Touch yourself." "What?" What does he mean by that? "Yeah," he groaned up, "I wanna watch you touch yourself. You got me all worked up, let me see what I want." His accent was thick then. You giggled and leaned your back against the way. "You sure?" "Am I sure?" He scoffed out. "Hun, do what I say, when I say it." Oh how you love his sternness.

You gave Joel and nod before slowly spreading your legs, revealing yourself to him. He shook his head. "Take off the damn panties." You rolled your eyes at his bossiness (Ignoring the fact it turns you on). You sighed softly and removed them, tossing them on the floor but Joel was quick to grab them, holding them in hand and occasionally sniffing them. "Gross." You murmured, now spreading your legs entirely to him.

"Now," he smiled, "Touch yourself baby." Mmm, the way he calls you that. He started to really do it over message and it was one of many ways he turned you on. You obliged though, and with haste. Your hand went down to that sweet spot between your legs before you then started to touch yourself. You slowly rubbed your clit and looked at Joel, occasionally looking away due to embarrassment but nonetheless, you treaded on.

The older man looks like a dog in heat. All he's doing is just sitting there and staring at you. Admittedly, that makes you feel sexier than you probably actually are. To have your best friends dad this locked in with you is a good feeling though. You picked up the pace in which you rubbed yourself, which earned a moan out of you. Joel whispered "Fuck." Underneath his breath before he pulled his rock hard dick out of his stained work jeans.

You watched as he began to rub himself too. Up & down his hand went as he gazed at you. Slowly but surely, you slipped a finger inside of you, then two, emerging them in and out of your hole as he got the full entertainment of it. "That's a good girl, jus' like that." Joel said to you in a deep, needy tone. You smiled as you looked into his eyes, your eyebrows contorting and your moans evident. He's so into this - that's beyond attractive.

On his length, you could see where precum once was. You must've got him really going. You began to touch yourself in a more erotic way, your other hand now grasping your tit and your teeth biting your lower lip - you knew how this would make Joel feel. "Shit baby, stop." He pumped himself a few more times before letting go and breathing deeply. "I can't cum yet." He then stood up and pulled his jeans down all the way, but firstly taking a condom out.

"Lay back." You listened. Your back hit your soft bed and Joel climbed on top of you, pinning you below him. "You smell good." He complimented you before burying his face in your neck, kissing it & sucking on it, sure to be leaving marks. "You do too... Oddly enough." You giggled at your own remark, but you quickly began to moan as his suckles became more intense.

Your hands ran through his hair before you pulled him back up to kiss you. Your lips pressed to his and you breathed in deeply, your mouth opening slightly, allowing his tounge to enter your mouth. The way your guy's tounges intertwined was so hot, it made you pulse down there. You wrapped your legs around his waist and cupped his face in your hands. "Fuck." You whimpered. "What is it darlin'?" He asked you in a soft tone, though you knew he was being cocky.

"I want you... I need you inside of me so please just-" but your begging wasn't needed for long. Joel was quick to shove a condom on his cock before he then entered you, stilling himself as he did. "Oh shit." You wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face as best as you could. "Still so tight." He gasped before kissing your cheek and head. "You're ok." He murmured before he began to move into you slowly but with long, deep strokes.

It felt so good. He moves into you with such skill. Of course he does though, he has experience. You moaned and whimpered beneath him as his slight thrusts were somehow already destroying you. You wonder if all the longing for him is finally catching up to you. "This past week has been fuckin' torture." He grunted as he moved into you. "All I been wantin' to do was make love to you." He added on.

He has? That makes you feel better. The way he talks to you during sex is like nothing you've seen before - but you aren't complaining. "I've wanted you Joel." You whispered before kissing him softly, a sharp breath being heard coming from him. "I know doll, trust me, I know." You felt that sly smirk go across his lips and you wanted to scoff and smack him right then and there but you couldn't - all you could do was let him destroy you.

His pace picked up and his thrusts became more sloppy and erratic. "You're so tight, Christ." He grunted as he pounded into you. You unwrapped your legs and moaned loudly as his pumps were so much more pleasure inducing now. His hands grabbed yours before he then pinned them down above your head with one hand, his other trailing down between your legs. "I'm gonna make you feel so good." He said softly before kissing your forehead.

His fingers started to play with your clit, and that's when you knew you'd be finishing real quick. It was sensitive, that entire are was. As you squirmed, Joel didn't stop, his fingers only moved faster. Him rubbing you mixed with his thrusts was too much. "I'm gonna cum." You moaned out as your eyes closed and back began to arch. "That'a girl, cum for me baby." He said in a low, deep voice before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As you came, you tightened around him and that finished Joel off too. "Fuck." He pounded into you so hard as he finished, his fingers never letting up on your nub. You gripped the brown sheets beneath you as your orgasm flooded your brain, body and soul - it was an excellent one. He was quick to now stop rubbing you and instead, grabbing you and hugging you gently, encasing you in his big arms as you finished. You didn't expect that, honestly.

You kept your arms on his shoulders and your legs around his torso. His hand was on the back of your head, caressing your hair and his other around your back. "You did so well." He stated before looking into your eyes, cupping your face and kissing you. You kissed him back and began to roll your hips against him again, feeling him get hard inside of you. "What are you doin'?" "You know what I'm doing." You then pulled him out of you and took his condom off, tossing it into your floor. "Just pull out."

"Baby, c'mon, I'm outta commission." He snickered as you fully sat on his lap now, his back against your wall. "Are you though." You began to pump him in your hand, instantly getting him fully hard again. "Fuck." He groaned and squeezed your ass before spanking you. You sat down on his cock and whimpered softly, placing your hands upon his shoulders as you began to bounce on him with a speed that he didn't expect so soon.

His hands remained on your ass as you rode him. You giggled and tilted your head back, letting your hair flow out and your tits jiggle excessively. He smirked and grabbed one, wrapping his mouth around it and slurping his tounge all over. You snickered and pet his head as he did, kissing the top of it too. "Love these things." He said starkly before switching to the other and sucking on your nipple. It felt so good and somehow the sensation was being felt in your pulsing cunt - Joel is like a pro at this shit.

Inside of you, you felt him twitch but you didn't stop. "God, it feels so good." You moaned before kissing him again, your tounge greedily moving with his. He gripped your ass tightly and occasionally slapped it as you rode him, making sure you felt it real good. "Still so wet." He glanced down at his dick that had your juices coating it. "That's so fuckin' hot." He then began to kiss your neck and shoulders, his hands now on your hips.

"I feel like I'm gonna... Oh shit." You moaned as you felt your orgasm overcome you once again. "Shit, up, baby up." He grabbed your hips and you pulled him out of you, his cum spewing onto your lower stomach. Joel panted and snickered, kissing the side of your face, then your ear. He came down from his high a lot quicker than you did. You can't even recall the last time you had two orgasms in the span of five minutes.

You plopped back onto your bed and sighed softly, pulling your blanket over you. He smiled and set a hand over your covered thigh. "Did I break you?" "Mhm." You nodded and closed your eyes. The man fucked you to sleep. You are wore out. He chuckled deeply and left a kiss on your cheek. "I gotta go then." Joel stood up and quickly got dressed; Truthfully, you watched the whole time. "Okay." You whispered.

Joel stepped closer to your bed and kneeled down to meet your eye level. "Come stay over again soon, maybe I'll find a way to weasel you into my room." He winked and kissed you softly. He stood up and right as he was about to exit, you sat up. "Joel." He turned around. "Yeah?" "Do you still have my panties?" He snorted and nodded. "Delicious girl... Yep, I do." "Oh..." You never seen him smile so genuinely before. "They are mine now." He then closed your bedroom door and left.

-

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and your legs felt extremely wobbly. You decided to send him a message, despite it being only nine am.

Saturday

"I'm broken."

Not even minutes later, he responded.

"That's the Joel Miller affect for you baby."

"Cocky motherfucker." You laughed to yourself before setting your phone down and finishing your breakfast.

[borvooven]

We live in a world where the only content we get for our rare ship is made by an AI

Another (longer) one:

Ok Im not a big fan of ChatGPT but I just found out it can write fan fic... and a page of Cherry Cola content is a page of Cherry Cola content.

[karespocketboyfriends]

𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍

Chapter Four

A Love and Deepspace Fanfiction (Sylus X OC)

Warnings -> None needed

<- Chapter Three

An original fan-fiction for Love and Deepspace. I appreciate reblogs but reposting to Tumblr or any other site is not okay with me.

A siren is staring at me through the glass.

Her wavy, mahogany hair that usually falls halfway down her back has been molded into soft curls and styled into an elegant updo, held together by a sparkling rhinestone accessory in the shape of a feather. Two locks of hair on either side of her face have been purposely left to fall freely, bouncing over round cheeks in an innocent way that contradicts the subtle, seductive tone of her makeup. Her body is wrapped in a gown of sapphire blue, the fabric hugging her dips and curves and drawing one's eye to her shape. Spaghetti straps run over her shoulders and intertwine with a web of straps at the back, tied in a perfect knot to keep the dress from slipping. The front of the dress, from the wait up glitters beneath the lights cast overhead, and a slit teases the lower half of her left thigh. The hem of the gown hits the floor, kisses her silver heels when she stands still.

She can't possibly be me, and yet she is. She's everything I could be, could have been, if life were different.

I don't know if I want her, because as powerful as she looks, something in her caramel eyes still looks broken.

A knock on the door has me turning from the plethora of mirrors Mr. Vincent's attendants have left me in front of. My heart flies into my throat, hammering so viscously I can feel the pulses in my neck and wrists thump. "Yes?"

Landon's voice is muffled on the other side of the door. "It's me. Are you ready?"

No, but I find it within myself to grab the rhinestone studded purse I've been lent and walk to the door to open it anyway. Landon sucks in a breath as he takes me in, his pale blue eyes lingering on my chest for a minute too long. Pink rushes to his cheeks as his head snaps to the side.

"You look beautiful. Just like a sapphire." He chokes out, shy in a way that's rather charming.

I don't necessarily force a smile, but it doesn't feel genuine either. "Thank you. Are we leaving now?"

With a nod, he settles his gaze on my face and offers up his arm. Not wanting to be rude, and not trusting myself to be steady in these heels while my nerves are so jittery, I wrap my hand around his forearm and allow him to lead towards the exit of Eternity Jewels headquarters.

Landon pauses at the door and grabs a long black coat hanging from a hook. He slips it over my shoulders with ease before placing my hand on his arm again. "Nervous?"

"Yes." I admit, shivering at the chill in the air as we step outside. The coat helps, but only so much with the way it's draped over me. I'll be in the car soon enough, so I power through.

"Mr. Vincent's a good guy. You're in safe hands, I promise."

The way he says it, it's almost as if... "You're not coming with us?"

Landon shoots me an apologetic smile. "Something came up, so I've been ordered to take care of things elsewhere."

He leads me to a long, pristine white limousine with gold accents parked out front. The windows are tinted, but even so, I can just barely make out the figure of a man sitting in the back. The driver, who must have seen us coming, gets out and walks around to open the door for me with a practiced bow. I steal one more look at Landon, at the reassuring smile he's wearing, and climb in.

The man sitting inside isn't at all what I expected. With how established the company is, I thought the owner would be older. Grey starting to pepper his hair, wrinkles hinting at their arrival, that sort of man. Instead he appears to be nearing or just entering his thirties, his dark hair styled back with gel and tattoos marking his hands, wrapping around his fingers in patterns I don't dare look long enough to study. His dark brown eyes have a warmth to them I wasn't expecting. He's dressed in a pressed brown suit, black loafers, an expensive watch resting on his right wrist, and a wedding band on his left ring finger.

He looks like a character out of a dark romance novel, which means I need to do everything in my power to avoid getting on his bad side. As handsome as he may be, this is the N109 Zone. Letting ones guard down just because someone or something looks pretty is a child's mistake.

The driver shuts the door, climbs back into the front, and pulls onto the street. Naturally, he's driving the N109 Zone's sped limit - whatever he can get away with.

The air in the back seat is tense and awkward. I slip the coat off my shoulders and drape it over my lap, turn my eyes to watch the buildings fly by outside the window. My phone buzzes several times inside the purse, and I quickly open it to see who's trying to get ahold of me.

SimonSays

You okay, Evie?

TroyBolton

Ur a shit liar, where r u rlly?

Bile rises in my throat. I didn't tell any of my brothers what I'm really up to tonight, just that I had an interview and a possible orientation for an overnight job, but the younger two didn't seem to buy it. Things between Drew, Mateo and I are still tense, and we've hardly spoken.

Evie

I promise I'm okay. I'll message you two when I'm heading home.

"You look worried."

I jump at the man's voice, almost dropping my phone but managing to catch it at the last minute. Relief washes through me. I've had too many close calls with my phone lately, almost losing it in the park and almost breaking it now. I still haven't had the chance to thank Luke and Kieran for returning it, or at least, I suspect they were the ones who dropped it in the mailbox. Mateo found it in there the morning my life started to fall apart.

I silence my phone and tuck it back into the purse. "I'm a little concerned my brothers are going to burn the apartment down while I'm gone, not gonna lie."

His quiet chuckle surprises me, as does the soft curve of his lips. A smile maybe? "Brothers, huh? What's that like? I grew up with two sisters."

"Chaotic, but I don't know what I'd do without them. Silence unsettles me more than their roughhousing."

His smile grows as he holds out a large hand. "Forgive me for not introducing myself. I'm Vincent."

"I know." I say, slipping my hand in his. Realizing how I must have sounded, I blink. "I mean, I kinda figured. I've heard mention of you all day. I don't care enough to stalk you or anything." Shut up, Evie. "I'm Evie."

"Evie." Vincent says with a firm nod. "Thank you for accompanying me tonight. I'm sure Landon let it slip, but my wife is bedridden for the time being. Unfortunately, this auction means too much to show up alone."

I dip my head a little. "I'm sorry to hear that." It must be the nerves that keep my mouth moving. "Um, I understand that this is to avoid a hit to your social status but... aren't you worried that I might ruin your reputation?"

He turns towards me a little as if interested. He looks amused, too. "And how, pray tell, would you do that?"

I shrug one shoulder. "I don't know, probably trip over air and fall face first into something expensive."

Vincent's laugh booms from his chest, filling the backseat of the limo and melting the remaining tension. "You look so shy, and yet you're so bold. I think you'll captivate everyone at the auction well enough that even if you happen to trip and break something, I don't think anyone will notice."

He's... not flirting, right? No, I can't see a man who makes a point to bring up his wife attempting to flirt with a woman he brought up said wife to. It's got to be the all romance novels going to my head. Besides, even if he is flirting, I take no interest in married men.

I don't know why, but a flash of scarlet red eyes spears into my mind again. My heart leaps into a sprint, a jolt of something rushing to the pit of my stomach so fast I almost jump.

Vincent furrows his brows and tilts his head. "Evie?"

I shake my head. "It's nothing, just…”

“Worried about your brothers burning the apartment down?”

My own giggle surprises me. I didn’t think I would be able to relax enough for that to happen. “Yeah.”

The limo slows, coming to a smooth stop in front of a massive grey tower I normally wouldn’t spare a second glance at. Well, maybe I would, if I tilted my head far back enough to notice the bright lights spilling through the windows at the very top. I’d stare for a moment, wonder what could be going on up there, then carry on minding my own business.

Because in the N109 Zone, minding one’s own business is key to staying out of trouble.

"Wait." Vincent says, stopping me just as my fingers brush over the latch to open the door. He gets out first, and a second later, my door opens. "Allow me to be a gentlemen for the evening."

The smile that pulls at my lips isn't forced, but not entirely genuine. "Thank you."

I slip my hand into the one he's offering and allow him to help me out of the limo. He helps drape the coat over my shoulders before offering his arm, then guides me into the tower. The lobby is luxurious, white couches and tall potted plants, incense burners and artwork that looks more expensive than the Mona Lisa lining the walls. A man dressed in a lavish suit greets us and checks Vincent's invitation before taking our coats and my purse. It's an effort not to cringe when I hand it over, the loss of my phone suddenly making me feel vulnerable. Without it, I won't be able to call for help.

Then again, who would I call? My brothers, who I want to keep as far out of harm's reach as possible? Luke and Kieran, whom I haven't seen or spoken to since the night I discovered who they work for? Not that I've been avoiding them, but I can't say for certain if they're ditching me now that I know their identities.

"You're tense." Vincent says quietly as he step into the elevator. We're the only ones inside, but he still maintains that low volume. "If you want out, I can arrange for the driver to bring you home."

"No." I refuse too quickly, but there's no taking it back. I can't take it back. "Look, I mean this in the most respectful way possible, but I'm not here to do you a favor. I don't know you. I'm here because I'm in a tough spot and Landon said this was a paying job. I just want to get through tonight, and go our separate ways."

He nods. "I respect your honesty."

That's all he says, and I'm appreciative that he doesn't make an attempt to pry.

After a long ride to the top, the elevator doors finally open. The lobby was luxurious, but the room up here is glamorous. A massive, crystal chandler hangs from the dome ceiling, every single 'wall' of the circular room is made of glass windows that overlook the city streets. Live musicians are set up on the left side of the room, playing classical music that transports my imagination to a royal ball filled with knights and princesses. Some guests dance to the music, while others mingle with glasses in hand. Some even browse the display cases arranged purposefully on the right side of the room.

"I thought this was supposed to be a gemstone auction?" I question as Vincent leads me inside.

"It is." He drops his arm to take two glasses from a server, handing one to me with a charming smile. "This is just the before party."

I eye the glass before hesitantly taking it. I have no intention of drinking it, or at least I didn't, until Vincent brings his glass to his lips and takes a sip. His lack of concern for whether or not the drinks may be spiked both sets my worry at ease and spikes my anxiety at the same time.

Vincent chuckles and gestures to the glass in my hands. "It's safe, I promise."

Like magic, my witty nature clicks into place. "If I choke on a champagne bubble and die, I expect my family to be compensated for the loss. They'll be ruined without my sense of humor."

He barks another laugh, and as I raise the glass to my lips, my smile is one-hundred percent natural.

I wish I could say I was just as guarded as I was earlier in the evening, but that would be a lie, and I've told enough lies for one night. I've eased up considerably in the hour and a half since we've arrived, survival no longer at the forefront of my mind.

Maybe I worry about the worst case scenarios too much. I definitely have a habit of overthinking, often sending myself on spirals of 'what ifs', but maybe just once, this one night, I can indulge in this dreamy lifestyle without having to look over my shoulder.

"Oh, wow." I breathe as we come up to the next display case.

After mingling with a few of Vincent's peers, he lead me to the display cases, insisting on taking a break from all the business talk. Inside are raw, uncut gemstones in their purest forms, all different sizes and colors and mined in various locations throughout the world. Amethysts, emeralds, opals, topaz, each one is exquisite and a rare treat to look at.

But the one before us now has captured my attention in the way no other stone on display has, the sheer beauty of it plunging into my heart and mind and wrapping my soul in an embrace so beautiful I almost want to cry.

"Ah, ruby." Vincent speaks softly as he comes up beside me. "Quite the vibrant stone, isn't it?"

The chunk of ruby is large, about the size of my palm, and even though it's rough and jagged almost spears out in a few places, it's more beautiful than the polished ruby jewelry I've seen several woman wearing tonight.

"A shame it's uncut, though." Vincent continues, finishing his second glass of champange.

I shake my head, unable to stop myself from smiling at the stone. "I disagree. I think it's more beautiful this way." Reaching out, I gently run my finger along the glass. "Not many people get to see something in it's natural state like this, before it's cut to fit the demands of someone else. This is more precious, I believe."

Vincent considers me for a moment. "You are a very loving person, Evie. It's a shame we met under these circumstances. I could do with a friend like you. My wife could, too."

Something in the air shifts in that moment. The veil of bliss is suddenly yanked over my head, all the warmth in my body suddenly zapped by a frost so chilling my blood almost freezes. My heart stops, as does the breath in my lungs. I'm frozen, and yet my back is burning under an intense stare.

He's here.

I don't know how I know this, but I do. I can't be certain that these eyes belong to him, and yet I don't have a doubt. It's like his eyes branded me that night, marked me to recognize his presence by feel alone.

As casually as I can, I look over my shoulder. Immediately, I lock eyes with him. He's standing at the entrance as if he just strode in from the elevator, dressed in all black with some dark red accents and a black jacket hanging off his shoulders. He stares at me, expression as unreadable as it was the night we met.

His eyes make the ruby look dull.

"Evie?" Vincent calls, bringing my attention back to him. I tense as he reaches out to place a hand on my arm. "Are you alright? Too much champagne?"

I force a smile and shake my head. "No, I'm fine. I know my limit, and I'm not even close. I just thought I saw someone I knew."

He stuffs one hand into his pocket and tilts his head. "Would you like to go say hello?"

I shake my head. "It's okay. It's probably best that I don't."

Because if I get close to him again, I'm worried I won't be able to walk away this time.

"Mr. Sylus." A man sticks out his tattooed hand for a shake, the other wrapped around a glass of champagne. It doesn't seem to be his first drink of the night. "I heard rumors you were interested in the auction, but I didn't think you would show."

Sylus regards the man's hand for a moment as if deciding whether he would shake it or not. He decides to. "Eternity Jewels has a talent for finding treasures. My evening is free, so I decided to come see what your company has to offer this time, Vincent."

Vincent gestures around him with an open arm. "Please, enjoy the party before the auction stars. The gemstones on display are pretty, but," He cuts the taller man a knowing look. "I take it you're here for the real auction?"

Intrigued, Sylus tilts his head and warps his lips into a smirk. "You're sneaky, saving the real goods for the highest buyers."

"Yes, well, if my piece of shit father taught me anything, it's that the more expensive the goods, the more careful one should be about curating who we sell too." Turning his body a little, Vincent leans in closer and lowers his voice. "I have something that will be worth your interest."

"That's a bold claim. Are you sure it's wise to be so confident about my interests?"

"If it's not, then don't bid." Vincent gestures towards one of the display cases on the far side of the room. "I acquired quite the sapphire tonight. It's raw, pure, perfect for a man like you to shatter into as many pieces as you want."

Sylus follows Vincent's gesture...

...and one of his hands curls into a fist so tight, his veins bulge.

Noticing the change in the air but misreading it horribly, Vincent chuckles and raises his glass to his lips. "Honestly, if no one bids, I think I'll keep it for myself. Such a thing is too pretty to throw away."

If Vincent was looking at the man standing next to him instead of ogling the backside of his recently acquired sapphire, he would notice the sinister gleam twinkling in Sylus' ruby eyes. "Agreed."

Masterlist

Chapter Five ->

Tag List:

@xxfaithlynxx @angelafinstone

[mvndfvelds]

HELLO !! i've not written any fanfiction in like 3 years so excuse how awful this is, but the spencer reid obsession is just too strong to resist. also there are a serious lack of gn!reader and especially male!reader fics, so if i ever write it'll be for those pairings :))

here's a cringey little valentine's day drabble x

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☆ pairing: gn!reader × spencer reid (no use of 'y/n')

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Valentine's day is overrated anyway, right? At least that's what you've been telling yourself all day whilst being silently bitter about the fact Spencer, your roommate, probably already has a date.

It had hit around 6pm, and you had yet to hear Spencer move from his room - in all honesty, he probably had a date with about 10 books this evening anyway. The romance films all seemed a little too much today, so you ended up laying there staring out the window with a takeaway pizza box laying across your stomach.

Giving up on sitting alone, you swung your legs off the sofa and onto the floor, padding up to Spencer's door and raising a tentative hand to knock.

"Come in!"

You poked your head around the door, still not wanting to intrude fully. You opened your mouth to speak, but he butted in already, "look. If you're gonna comment on the fact I'm alone today, I'd like to remind you that you are too."

"I- wow, you think so lowly of me!" You snarked, "I was going to ask if you wanted to watch something with me seeing as we're both alone?"

"Statistically, there's still 30% of Americans who spend their Valentine's day alone or with friends anyway. Besides, it's all developed into feeding into capitalism now. Oh, and yes, I'd like to watch something!" He rambled whilst you smiled fondly and turned to leave, assuming he was trailing near behind you.

Both of you flopped to the sofa again, the soft lighting in the living room was almost romantic when you looked to Spencer. You tore your eyes away and trailed through the romcoms - Spencer would never admit it, but his guilty pleasure film is '10 Things I Hate About You'.

Halfway through the film you draped a blanket over yourself, revelling in the fact Spencer had moved his feet into your lap afterwards. It wasn't out of the ordinary to be subtly affectionate with Spencer anymore, you'd both taken a fair while to settle into a domestic life, but it was second nature now. Though that didn’t mean your heart didn’t stutter a little at every touch.

"I don't really understand high-school hierarchies," he said absent-mindedly, referring to the film.

"Me neither, though I don't either of us need high-school hierarchies to be considered 'nerds', do we?"

He chuckled lightly before deciding to reposition himself on the sofa entirely, turning the other way and asking, "can I lay my head on you?" You nodded, slightly bemused by his wriggling, focusing on the TV.

One of his lanky arms had made its way to drape over your lap, and one of your hands had settled on playing with his hair. Nearing the end of the film, during Kat's monologue, Spencer sniffled lightly.

"Spence... are you crying?"

He shook his head defiantly, "no? It's just a film."

You held his chin gently and turned his head so he was looking up at you from your lap with teary eyes. You cooed teasingly making his face heat up, "see, you're just a little crybaby. No shame in it, man, we've all been there."

You ran a thumb over his cheekbone, catching a stray tear and wiping it away. "If you weren't a pretty crier I'd take the piss out of you right now, y'know?" You said, sounding far too fond when it was only supposed to be a joking comment.

Evidently this wasn't going to slip past Mr. BAU, so he grinned up at you shyly and muttered, "you think I'm pretty?"

You nodded, face pink, you'd fallen into your own failed sarcasm and there was no way out at this point. Ah, fuck it, you may as well take your chances. You leant down slowly, your intention clear, waiting for a sign that he was happy with this. It soon came as he lifted his head slightly to meet your lips in a gentle kiss. You let out a small whine when he flopped back down with a satisfied grin, finding one of your hands and playing with your fingers gently.

"I guess we don't fit into that 30% anymore, right?"

[thegreeks]

Love and Tenderness

Warnings: wedding night, implication of consummation (not descriptive/SFW) Synopsis: your gentle, intimate wedding night with Mr. Darcy.

It was a night bathed in moonlight, the cool air carrying the gentle scent of blooming jasmine from the gardens of Pemberley. You found yourself standing at the threshold of your new life, butterflies dancing in your stomach as you recalled the whirlwind of emotions that had led to this very moment.

The day had been a whirlwind of emotions—the grand ceremony, the joy of your family, and the overwhelming happiness of marrying the man you had come to love with all your heart: Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Soft flickers of candles illuminated the lavishly appointed chamber, casting a warm glow over the silk sheets and finely crafted furnishings. The opulence felt unreal, yet it was the coziness of the room, imbued with love and promise, that made it feel like home.

The delicate lace of your wedding gown whispered against the floor, and your fingers, trembling slightly, played with the edge of the sleeve. Tonight was your wedding night, and the thought of it made your cheeks flush with warmth.

A gentle knock at the door snapped you from your musing, and your heart raced as Mr. Darcy stepped inside. He looked every bit the gentleman: tall, with a refined air and a warm glow radiating from his usually reserved demeanor. The sight of him sent a rush of happiness through you, the man you had once deemed proud now wholly vulnerable and just as enamored.

“Good evening, my love” he said softly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. His dark eyes sparkled with a mix of affection and sincerity that made your breath catch.

The moment the door closed behind him, an air of intimacy enveloped the space. "Are you well?" His voice brought warmth and reassurance, grounding you amidst the whirlwind that was this day.

You nodded, though your voice seemed to elude you for a moment. "Yes… only a little nervous," you admitted shyly, your gaze dropping to your hands as you fidgeted with the lace of your gown.

“Today was a momentous occasion,” he began, his voice deep and earnest. “To have you by my side… I still cannot quite believe that you are now truly my wife.”

A shy smile tugged at your lips as you recalled the vows exchanged beneath the soft bloom of spring flowers, surrounded by the laughter and joy of your closest friends and family. “Nor I, Mr. Darcy. It all seems like a beautiful dream.”

“I assure you, it is very much real,” he said, his voice laced with tenderness. “And I would not trade it for anything in the world.”

An unspoken understanding passed between you, a shared admission that neither of you had ever anticipated finding such completeness in another. The weight of the evening melted away as his gaze held yours captive, his admiration evident.

Darcy crossed the threshold through the grandeur of the room, taking your hands in his, his touch firm yet gentle, his fingers gently untangling your own as he lifted your hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to each.

His musky scent of cedar and leather comforting as he whispered, “How fortunate I am to have you in my life. You’ve changed everything for me.

You leaned back to meet his gaze, your heart swelling at his sincerity. “And you have changed my world, Mr. Darcy. I once thought you were insurmountable…and now, you are my greatest support.”

"You need not dwell on nerves," he said quietly, his voice filled with affection. "We have all the time in the world, and tonight is not a night for haste, but for tenderness." His gaze held yours, and you could see the care, the love, in his eyes—a love that had grown over time, deep and steadfast.

“I have waited for this moment for what feels like a lifetime,” he whispered, “and yet, now that it is here, I find myself wanting nothing more than to make you feel safe, cherished.”

You blushed deeply, overwhelmed by his words, by the tenderness with which they held you. You had never imagined that such a proud and composed man could be so gentle, so considerate. You felt the weight of his love in every touch, every glance.

“I do feel safe,” you whispered back, your voice barely above a breath. “With you, I always do.”

Darcy’s hand moved to cup your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. There was a quiet reverence in his eyes as he leaned down, brushing his lips softly against yours. The kiss was slow, tentative—an expression of the deep emotions felt deep within your bosom. You felt the warmth of his breath, the softness of his lips, and all the nervousness that had been knotted in your chest began to unwind.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “More than I can ever say.”

Your heart swelled with love for him. “And I love you,” you replied softly, your shyness melting away in the presence of his affection.

“Then allow me to show you just how much you mean to me,” he said, slowly guiding you to the lavishly embroidered settee that had been prepared for you both for this special night.

“May I?” he inquired softly, his voice a velvet caress as he brushed your hair away from your face. You nodded, breath hitching at the intimate nature of the moment.

With tender care, Darcy helped you out of your wedding gown, his touch never rushed or demanding. He treated you as though you were the most precious thing in the world, his every movement thoughtful and gentle. When you were finally settled on the soft sheets, he joined you, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

As the evening unfolded, you followed his lead, allowing him to guide you patiently and with a grace that soothed your nervous heart. Each tentative touch ignited sparks that coursed through you. The intimacy was profound, transcending the physical, as your connection deepened.

In the quiet stillness of the night, you rested your head against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. His fingers traced soothing patterns along your back, and you felt a deep sense of contentment wash over you.

“There is no need for fear,” Darcy murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “We have all our lives ahead of us, my dearest.”

Underneath the canopy of stars that blanketed the Pemberley skies, you sensed that this was where you were meant to be, by Darcy’s side, writing the first chapter of a tale that neither of you would ever want to end. In that moment, the world outside disappeared; it was just the two of you, united as one, ready to face whatever came next—together.

[radlyradar]

Sharing a moment. CHPT. 5

1096 words, Fix-it, mild annoyance to lovers

NOTE: this chapter starts a tad angsty but gets better quick :)

Mr. Pink/Mr. Brown Mark Nussy/Dennis Koonstock

summary:

Mark and Brown discuss their issues like healthy people (non cannon compliant)

By the time Mark gets home he’s wallowing in his thoughts. He was whipped for Brown, no doubt. The question was why, and did Brown feel the same? There’s no way, he clearly had a girl somewhere. Even if he did, was he worth outing himself for?

The thought of Brown seeing him different. Seeing him as less.

Mark opens his door and gets some food ready.

But if he had felt the same, that would be something. For a second he let himself imagine it. As he imagines it, he realizes it’s what he had spent his morning doing. Waking up with him, making breakfast, joking around. Until that goddamn phone call. Mark could feel his jealousy flair. He snaps out of it. He shouldn’t be hating some poor girl, she did nothing wrong.

He rubs his face and looks down at his sandwich. It looks a lot less appetizing than he imagined it. Mark puts it in the fridge, he doesn’t want to watch a movie, so he just takes another walk.

===

For the last few days leading up to the heist Mark avoids Brown as much as he could, he was sure Brown noticed.

“Hey Pink, you wanna go get food after this?” Brown stops him before he could escape. “Nah, I have some stuff to get to.” “Really? Or are you just avoiding me?” Brown’s question makes Mark’s blood still for a second. “Um-” Mark looks around at the others talking, White’s eyes glance at him with a knowing look. Oh he can fuck off. “We shouldn’t talk about this here.” “Well then let’s talk about it over dinner.”

Mark’s jaw tightens, but his walls crumble when Brown gives a final, “Please?” Looking up at Brown’s soft eyes, he can’t say no.

===

The car ride was wordless. Mark knew it was from awkwardness, not anger. Still, he was too scared to say anything. He just watches Brown’s reflection in the window. His brow was tight with worry. Mark watches his eyes move while he looks at the road. He had a good face. Well, an interesting face at least. His expressions were easy enough to read. The car stops and Brown smiles and turns to him. “We’re here.”

Mark can’t help but smile back. He looks up at him then to the building. “Tacos.” He looks at the building, it looks almost broken down. “Yeah, it’s the best stuff in LA.” They walk in and get a table. The moment they get a seat, Brown says.

“So what’s up, is it touching? Cuz I can stop-” “No- I mean yes?- No, it’s- that’s a part of it I guess.” Mark holds his hand in his head and sighs. “Part of it?” Brown mumbles, his face fills with sadness. “Well, I mean it’s nothing you did wrong. You’re great! Perfect!” Mark finds himself reaching out for Brown’s hand. Well, he can’t stop now. “So what is it? I want to know how to fix this, Pink.”

Mark’s heart fills with dread. There’s no way he can tell him. It could get him kicked out of the heist, or worse. “The heist!” He blurts. “What?” “Yeah, I mean, with the heist, we weren’t supposed to be close.” He says this like he’s found an answer to a pop quiz, which he guesses he has. “Oh, I guess you're right..” “I had just realized we got too close, hell, I think of you as a friend and I don’t even know your name!” Mark pulls his hand back and waves it about.

“Dennis.”

Mark freezes and looks at Brown.

“What?” Mark mutters.

“Um.” he immediately looks like he regrets it, but Mark can see him steel himself. “My name is Dennis, and I think of you as a friend too, and I don’t want to stop talking to you when this is done.”

Mark stares at him, he doesn’t know how to respond. “You can’t- you didn’t- no.” He stands, feeling his head do something funny, like all his blood dropped to his feet. He stumbles from lightheadedness. “No?” Brown asks, he stands next to Mark and Mark doesn’t realize he’s holding him up until he lets go again.

“Is something wrong” A waitress asks

Mark is only partially aware of his surroundings. Dennis. That’s his name, why did he tell him, that could jeopardize the heist. What should he do?

“Yeah, I think my friend is just hungry.” Brown puts his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Yeah..” Mark mutters. He could tell Joe, no. If he told Joe Brown could get hurt.

They sit down and Mark feels his head slowly still. “Are you ready to order?” The waitress asks.

“Yeah can we get…”

Brown’s voice dies out in Mark’s head. He was attached. Who was he kidding, his name didn’t do anything he was already obsessed with the guy.

“Are you okay?” Brown asks. Mark nods and sighs. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, I- you did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have told you.”

They sit in a guilty silence for a second, Mark watches Brown’s hands, Dennis’s hand in the middle of the table.

“Dennis, Dennis suits you.” he mutters as he looks up at him and sees Dennis smile as he takes his hand over the table.

They talk while they eat, they talk about meaningless bullshit. They walk to the car, hand in hand.

“You couldn’t fight a fucking bear.” Mark claims “Yes I could, I’m telling you if I had a good knife and time, I could win a fight with a bear!” They sit in the car in a pleasant silence, Mark glances over at Dennis, who seems to be trying to decide something. He turns to Mark, somewhat suddenly, clearly nervous.

“Hey Pink.” “Yeah?”

“Do you- I mean are you- or um. Like.. hrrmm.” He tries to figure out what he’s saying, leaving Mark in confusion. “What?” Mark asks. “Do you like guys?” He finally asks

Mark feels a bit disappointed in this question. “What?” He asks again, this time with a tired voice. “I just held your hand for probably an hour straight.” “Yeah but was that a friend hand hold, or like-” “Dennis!” Mark puts his hand on his shoulder “You’re a dumbass.” He leans over and grabs Dennis’s chin, planting a firm kiss on the edge of his mouth.

He pulls away and smirks. “Does that answer your question?” “Yes, but now I have like twenty more..” Dennis looks awed and flustered

“Oh my fucking god.” Mark buries his face in his hands “You’re fucking stupid.”

[athenaswisdoms]

𝑩𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑪𝑻, 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒐

a benedict bridgerton x reader fanfiction

MASTERLIST

After Lady Danbury's annual "The Four Seasons" ball, I spent the ride home utterly absorbed in thought. As Clara, my ever-curious maid, helped me into my sleepwear, she bombarded me with questions pertaining to the events of my night.

"So, how was it?" she asked, removing the pins that were holding my updo together, the neat curls falling out of place one by one.

"It was adequate," I replied, attempting to hide the slight flush that crept across my face as to avoid further intrusion on her part. Clara'a hands dropped from my hair and she placed her hands on her hips in an accusatory manner, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

"Simply 'adequate'? Oh please, did you presume the dim candlelight would hide the look on your face from me?" she said, laughing. "You must give me something to satisfy my curiosity."

I finally gave into my smile.

"Alright, very well!" I replied, "I may have met a friend..."

"A friend you say?" Clara cocked her head, continuing her work on my hair and removing my makeup. "Do go on," she giggled.

I proceeded to describe to her the details of my encounter with Benedict Bridgerton, not yet revealing his name.

"Ms. Y/N Jackson, how improper!" Clara gasped dramatically to which I rolled my eyes in reply. "Engaging in a secret rendezvous..." she tsked in jest.

I scoffed. "When you say it in that manner it sounds beyond scandalous," I replied, earning a chuckle from Clara. After a moment of quiet she spoke up once again.

"Well..." she began, dragging out the 'l' in anticipation, "are you going to tell me who this 'friend' is, or shall I be left to wonder?"

I sighed hesitantly, "Yes, but promise not to blow your top when I tell you," I said, turning around from the mirror to meet her eyes and she nodded eagerly.

"Benedict Bridgerton."

"WHAT!" Clara all but shrieked in incredulity.

"Clara!" I hissed under my breath.

Without apology for her abrupt reaction, she lowered her voice and began question me relentlessly.

"You mean to say that you are being courted by a Bridgerton?"

"I am not being courted. We only had a conversation," I tried to clarify to her.

"Yes, a conversation in which he asked you if you were interested in marriage!" Clara fired back.

"It was not phrased in that way and you know it!" I replied, my face so flushed that one would think I applied a comical amount of rouge.

She swatted my arm playfully. "Either way, when we go out to promenade in a few days, we shall be looking for this Mister Bridgerton."

. . .

The bright morning sun awakened me rather rudely as the maids whipped open my drapes and greeted me as per usual. Clara came bustling in shortly after to flip through my wardrobe, pulling out three dresses.

"What do you think - lavender, blush pink, or tangerine?" she questioned.

I rolled over in my bed to look at the dresses, immediately choosing the lavender option.

"I was thinking the same thing," Clara said giddily, clearly excited for the day ahead. She was always fond of the outings and events she was able to attend with me as she could experience everything for herself instead of hearing it from my "underwhelming" recounts; as she would say.

The carriage ride was nothing short of uncomfortable. It always was when I had a tight corset digging into every side of my waist and pins poking into my scalp, which was not at all aiding in soothing the anxiety that swirled in my stomach. The only distraction from the discomfort was Clara's nonstop excited chattering about Mr. Bridgerton.

"Clara, don't get your hopes up. I have in fact only spoken to him once. He's surely got ladies waiting at his doorstep all but offering their hands in marriage."

Clara sighed. "Well, yes. But you must admit that you have some elation towards a chance at being courted by him," she replied.

"In all honestly, Clara, I'm doing my best at suppressing that. I don't want to end up disheartened," I explained.

"You're allowed to be excited, Y/N. That is what the marriage season is supposed to be about, believe it or not."

Upon stepping out of the carriage, my flushed face welcomed the cool spring breeze. As we began to walk, I scanned my surroundings. Mamas and papas trailed their daughters a few paces behind them as did mine, Eligible Lords conversed with friends and greeted promenading ladies with a kiss on the back of the hand, not to mention the dreadful eye contact I desperately evading with those same men. It was not until multiple Lords came to speak to myself and my family that I realized an avoidance of looking at them would not deter them from approaching.

I spent the next hour participating in meaningless small talk and answering questions regarding my talents and future capabilities as a housewife. I simply could not take it any longer, so I asked my parents if I might take a walk through the flower gardens with Clara. With apprehension but the promise of Clara's supervision, they agreed and we made our way to a quieter area.

"I simply cannot breathe in this corset. When is it we can go home?" I complained.

"I know this hasn't been the most ideal of afternoons for you, but I don't think we should leave until we've found what we're looking for," Clara protested. I sighed somewhat dramatically.

"Fine, but if I have one more mother ask me about my 'piano forte' skills I think I might scream in which you must not blame me," I replied.

Clara laughed. "Alright, but I am truly determined to find Mister Bridgerton. I would like to see how handsome he is," she giggled.

Before I could mock her for her comment, she gasped excitedly and muttered, "Speak of the devil."

"What-."

I turned around to see none other than Benedict Bridgerton admiring the flowers no more than twenty yards away, making his way closer by the moment though he hadn't yet noticed me.

"Go on then!" Clara said with a nudge to my arm.

"What? No I'm not going to-," I protested.

"Come on don't be afraid just approach him," she urged with another soft push with her hip onto mine.

"Clara, I am not afraid I'm just -" before I could state my rebuttal, our banter was cut off by a familiar voice behind me.

"Miss Jackson."

Benedict.

My eyes widened at Clara before I turned around towards him.

"Mister Bridgerton, a pleasure to see you again," I replied, tilting my head upward to look into his inviting gaze.

"The pleasure is all mine, truly. I trust this afternoon finds you well?"

"Quite. In all honestly I was wondering if I'd run into you today," I admitted.

"I would say the same. I was hoping we could have a conversation within less 'scandalous' circumstances," he joked. "Have you been successfully avoiding the marriage market since I last saw you?"

I laughed, "I was telling my maid that if I was asked the same series of questions here one more time today that I might lose my composure." I realized then that I may have overstepped the unspoken rules of light conversation upon that comment, but Benedict was quick to reply.

"Well, I promise to do my absolute best to be of more interesting conversation so that I might find myself worthy of your company."

I smiled brightly, looking away from his face for the moment and instead towards the lilac bushes that lined the dirt paths of the garden on either side.

"I'm quite fond of lilacs," I stated. Benedict then proceeded to shamelessly stick his nose into one of the flowers, immediately sneezing as I began to laugh profusely.

"I'm not sure you were close enough to smell it, Mister Bridgerton," I quipped, still giggling.

"Well Miss Jackson, would you prefer to demonstrate how I might do it correctly?" he teased.

"Well, you must really immerse yourself within the flowers, like so," I said, simply burying my face into the bush, hearing Benedict's laughter from outside of the leaves.

Upon removing my head from the blossoms, Clara informed me that we must be departing as my mother was due at afternoon tea shortly.

"I trust I will be seeing you at the Trowbridge Ball in the coming week?" Benedict inquired.

"Oh yes, my mother wouldn't dare let me miss it," I replied sarcastically.

"Perhaps you might save me a dance?"

I turned towards Clara and looked over my shoulder at Benedict, "Perhaps I will."

. . .

In the midst of tea and breakfast the next morning, a maid entered the breakfast room announcing, "Miss Jackson, a gift has been delivered for you."

I turned my head away from my plate and towards the door. A crystal vase had been filled with a lush bouquet of lilacs. I rose from the table to receive the gift, the vase now having been set onto the end table. Upon closer inspection, I plucked a note from the flowers that read, "Be sure to fully immerse yourself - B.B.".

taglist (lmk if you want to be added <3) :

@mysticwitchcraftco @sweetlike-sugarplum

[pinguwrites]

Kinktober 2023 | Day Two — Cillian Murphy + spanking, authority kink

Pairing -> dom!cillian murphy x stepdaughter!reader

Warnings -> kinda dark and sick, stepcest, mentions of masturbation, use of the word daddy (not really sure if it counts as kinky or not, but it's in there), huge age gap (implied Cillian and reader knew each other before reader was fourteen but no relationship), slut shaming, spanking

KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST

Disclaimer: This is not a reflection of Cillian Murphy's actual life. This is completely separate and is not intended to harm him or his family in any way. DNI if you're a Yvonne hater. This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Your stepfather, Cillian, laughed. A dry laugh, his fingers touching his lips for a moment. You were sitting on his bed, hands interlocked, waiting patiently for him to say something. 

You knew you fucked up. When you decided to wear that pink mini-skirt — the type that showed a scrape of your bottom — with a crop top that accentuated the curve of your breasts, you knew you were asking for trouble. 

Your intention hadn’t been to make him upset. Just a little pissed off, enough for him to sweep you away to some corner and work his magic on you, but you had ended up making him angry. Angry enough to call off the entire night and bring you back home.

What was I expecting? He was still your dad. Sure, you had sex, but in some fucked up way or another, he still saw you as that little girl he met all those years ago, the one that needed to be cared for and protected and disciplined.

Cillian sat down on the bed beside you, thinking for a moment. Then, “Get over my knees.”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hadn’t spanked you since you were fourteen. 

“What?” The thought of him punishing you like that, now that you saw him in a different light, was both humiliating and arousing. 

“Get over my knees,” he repeated, with that soft Irish accent you loved. “You need to learn a lesson.”

Not wanting to make it easy for him, you complained. “It was only a dress! Why—”

Cillian cupped your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“I’m doing this because I love you,” he said earnestly. “It’s either my knees or against the wall.”

The thought of standing while he spanked  you made you shudder. Your knees would probably buckle and you would collapse into his arms, which didn’t sound like a bad idea, but you would rather be laying down while he did it — to avoid the embarrassment. 

You nodded, and laid over his knees, feeling a sense of excitement rush through your body. “What if Mom finds out—” you tried to say, but he didn’t let you finish. He pulled up your skirt and pushed your underwear between your cheeks, giving you a nice, hard slap on your ass.

You yelped. “Mr. Murphy—”

“—Be quiet!”

He slapped you again, this time on the other cheek. You made another sound, the pain stinging like a burn. He wasn’t being gentle. Behind each slap was intent and fury.

“How dare you behave like that in public?” he said, his voice low. “How dare you flirt with other boys like a desperate slut?”

“I was just — oww — I was just tryna get your attention!” 

“Yeah?” He spanked you again, this time much harder. The force of it made your ass jiggle. You forgot how much this hurt.

“And you couldn’t have just asked me politely? You know I would give you anything you want — anything.”

Another spank. 

“M’sorry!”

Cillian shook his head. “That’s not enough. Do you understand how painful it is for me, to see you act like that? When I see you wearing these things in public.” He tugged at your dress. “I mean, what even is this? A bikini? Some type of lingerie?”

“It’s just a skirt,” you whined, noticing a familiar bump on your thigh. He was hard. Your dad was getting hard hitting you. 

Fuck, you thought, feeling a pool of wetness form between your legs. 

Another slap. You cried out.

“It’s my job to watch out for you. Is that not something you want?”

“I do want it,” you said earnestly, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

You knew calling him that did something to him. Everytime you used that word he would always give into your wants or give you extra affection. 

Cillian’s eyes softened. “I know you are.” 

He gave your sore bum a rub, kneading the flesh. “Come on, sit on my lap.”

You did as he asked. It still hurt a little, but you managed.

He gave you a kiss, a gentle one, long and tender. Lips locked, you ran your hand down his body to the bulge in his pants, but he stopped your hand. “I’m not going to please you tonight. And you are not going to touch yourself.”

You groaned, frustrated. You were aching for him, that’s the whole reason you decided to tease him in public in the first place. What was all this spanking for if he wasn’t going to fuck you at the end of the day? “Why not? I said sorry!”

“I told you that’s not enough. Now, go finish your homework.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the floor. “If I catch you masturbating,” he added, his voice low, “you’re not getting anything at all this entire week, okay?”

He said this almost condescending tone, which made you infuriated.

“Fine,” you grumbled, leaving the room.

He won’t find out.

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