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faegoddessog · 1 year ago

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Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch. 36/41

Chapter 36: What a Girl Wants

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, cunnilingus, anal play (m. and f. receiving), fellatio, bondage, spanking (ass and pussy), punishment, fingering, throat grabbing (not really choking), Unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll), creampie, unprotected anal (f. receiving), loving degradation?? (please correct me if I'm wrong on that), masturbation, restraint, bruising/marks

Yup... all that and a bag of chips.

Series Masterlist

Series Summary:

You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, here there be lemons.

Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes involved here.

PSA: You shouldn't wear a butt plug for extended periods as it could result in ulcerations. However this is a fantasy story without such parameters, so...

Chapter 36: What a Girl Wants

Even though you refused to think of time as passing, the last day together comes. You have spent the last couple days busy getting everything finalized, you’ve not had time nor energy for more than cuddling and kisses with Austin. You slept in late this morning, as though even in dreamtime you had refused to acknowledge this as your full last day on the Gold Coast. Your bags are packed, weighed and at the door by midafternoon. You don’t leave until tomorrow afternoon, but you like to be ready. You grab a bag of chips to have a little snack, wondering what to do for dinner.

Austin steps out from his office room wearing jeans and a t-shirt, hair a mess. Stretching as though he had been napping, but holding his phone to his ear.

“Yes, 5pm is good, thank you,” he says into the phone, then hangs up.

“Kitten, get ready, I am taking you to dinner,” he exclaims, ”and not one where we eat take out on the hood of the car, a real dinner at a fancy restaurant with tiny portions and good wine and people calling you Sir.”

“Ooo, that sounds awesome, I love being called Sir!” your eyes light up, tossing the bag of chips aside. “Oh fuck, um… all my dresses are packed away. I don’t have anything to wear to a fancy place.” You chew your bottom lip.

“Yes you do” he steps inside his office and pulls out your blue dress he bought you in Brisbane in one hand and strappy heels and your sapphire jewelry in the other, “I snatched them from your storage box before we moved it downstairs.”

“Oooo! Going out!” you do a little happy dance, grabbing his face and planting a kiss on him.

You open the luggage by the door, rummage around and pull out the matching butt plug. You couldn’t bear the idea of keeping it in storage.

“Shall I wear this too?” you show him,” it is an ensemble after all.”

His eyes narrow in desire and his teeth unconsciously catch his bottom lip as he nods his head.

After a good shower and clean out, you spend time, probably for the last time in a while, on your hair and makeup.

Austin pops his freshly shaven face into the bathroom holding a bottle of lube, nodding at the plug on the counter. “Can I help Kitten?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you joke with him, picking the plug up.

His lip curls and he crooks his finger with a ‘come here’ motion. You follow him eagerly into the bedroom. He has on nothing but the martini boxer briefs you got him.

“Awww, those are so cute on your tush babe.” you run your hand over the delectable curve of his ass.

“Thank you, now get your tush up there,” he indicates the bed.

You crawl up on all fours, ass up in the air. You are a little nervous, he hasn’t played with your ass in a while, and you know how big he is. But you know he’s gonna take good care of you. You prepare to relax, taking a deep breath. His hands are pulling your cheeks apart and you expect to feel lube dripping on your ass and the plug tip smearing it around.

“Oh my god you are gorgeous,” you hear him behind you and instead feel his fingers graze along your pussy lips. He leans over your body, knees urging your legs wider. He plants a kiss on your shoulder,

“I want you cumming as I push it in,” he says low in your ear. A shuddering breath escapes your lips.

“Oh,” your cunt tingles with anticipation.

He draws away from you. Suddenly you feel his wide, flat tongue slowly running from your clit, over your labia to your clenching and clean sphincter.

“Oh fuck,” this is not what you were expecting at all.

On the next swipe he dips into your furrow, pushing your juices to your backside with his tongue. He laps you this way over and over. Soon his fingers begin to gently circle your clit. He tongues you, your stomach clenches and a burst of breath deserts your lungs.

“You like that, Kitten?” he asks, a smile evident in his voice. You know he loves making you feel like this.

“Uh huh,” you nod.

“My naughty girl,” his lips brush your cheeks. His tongue lightly flicks across your rosette as his fingers massage across your pussy and circle your clit. It is fucking naughty and that makes it feel even better. Your fists clench the bedclothes as you push back towards him. Soon he replaces his tongue with the lube covered plug. Just rolling the tip around your back entrance.

He slides an arm under your leg, urging you to roll onto your back.

“I gotta lick your clit hunny, I need it in my mouth,” his eyes are shaded with rising desire.

You understand this kind of aroused oral fixation all too well. You pull your knees up to your armpits. He wastes no time, licking and sucking your pussy like a starved man. Little groans of pleasure drift from him as he indulges himself in your sweetness. Then you feel the cold hard metal against your asshole. His tongue works magic on your clit as he presses the plug in just a little. Your hands fly to his head, wrapping your fingers with his thick black hair, which he finally had cut and dyed the day before.

“Oh yeah, just like that,” you can feel the tension winding tight behind your clit.

He pushes the plug about half way in and stops. You are trying to relax around it, but you are so stirred up it’s tough.

“Fuck me with it, Austin,” your voice barely above a whisper.

He just chuckles in his chest, the flat of his tongue rubbing, rubbing, rubbing against your bundle of nerves.

With a firm grip, he slides the plug in and out. He pushes a little farther each time as your ass loosens up.

“Oh yes, just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” you beg. Suddenly you are like lightning striking the ground. The winding in you breaks as your orgasm jolts you. In that second he pushes and your ass sucks in the plug and your pussy inundates his tongue with your juices.

He licks and slurps like any drop wasted is a sin. His mouth covers you and his tongue slows as you shiver. Then he is gone from between your legs.

You open your eyes, hoping to see him pulling himself out. You lie there invitingly, legs open and hands out ready for him to climb on top of you and sink into you. He rubs his obviously hard cock through his adorable underwear.

“Oh no Kitten, you’ll have to wait until later for this cock, I want you needy tonight,” he winks at you and smiles devilishly and saunters out of the room. Smiling, you mewl out a little disappointed growl. You can tell tonight will be good, beyond good.

Collecting yourself, you deck yourself out in your beautiful blue dress and sapphires. Austin looks remarkable, as always, in black trousers and boots with a black shirt and tie, topped off with a crisp white jacket and black pocket square. He looks like James fucking Bond, so scrumptious. You both know there will be paparazzi photos tonight and neither of you mention it because you both decided, independently, that you don’t care. Plus you will be wearing masks anyway.

“Mmm, you look amazing Austin,” thinking about how you will undress him later, ”is this a ‘tie required’ place?”

“I don’t think so, why?” he asks.

“I think you look sexier without it,” you reach up and loosen it, pulling out the knot and slowly dragging it from around his neck. He stares down at you, chest expanding as he controls his urge to take you right there. You undo the first few buttons of his shirt.

”I like it when your chest just peeks out," you run one finger on his now naked skin.

“I like it when your chest peeks out,” he murmurs, unable to stop dragging a finger along the neckline of your cleavage.

You are both on the verge of forgetting about going to the restaurant when his phone chimes in his pocket.

“That must be our ride,” he pulls back, digging in his pants for his phone, Surreptitiously adjusting his burgeoning hard-on.

“Yup, let’s go,” he grabs your coat and hands you your clutch and sweeps you out the door.

Masked, you walk into the Little Truffle, the maître d’ leads you into an elegant dining space with dark walls and mirrors and a gorgeous chandelier. The tables are, of course, set far apart, you figure they are probably operating at about 50% capacity.

Your waiter, Dean, is delightful and funny. He comments on how lovely you look and how your necklace is gorgeous. You thank him and say it’s part of a set that Austin gave you. Austin gives you a smoldering look, you know he is thinking about the plug in your ass, and what he plans for you later. It makes you squirm and clench.

You and Austin decide on the Degustation Menu with wine pairings. You are pleasantly surprised that the portions aren’t miniscule, which is what you expected at a French cuisine restaurant. You two have the most romantic dinner, feeding one another, laughing, sometimes talking with just your eyes as you trace the edge of wine glasses with fingers or tongues. Austin’s hand is a constant on your thigh, your arm, your waist. The few times he breaks contact, he makes sure his foot or leg is pressed up against you. It’s like he is afraid you may evaporate if he lets go. It’s comforting.

Everything was delicious, especially the panna cotta. Dean comments about how adorable you two are. When Austin remarks that you’ll be leaving for Antarctica tomorrow, which is why you are out tonight, Dean’s hand covers his heart and makes a sad face, then offers to Austin to call him up if he needs company while you are gone. It just makes you laugh. If you get jealous every time someone is attracted to Austin, you are going to go crazy. He is so objectively handsome.

Besides, Austin only has eyes for you all night. His feelings for you are evident. It’s where his fingers linger on the soft skin inside of your wrist when you feed him a tidbit from your plate. It’s the sparkle in his eyes when you laugh. It’s the cleft of your buttocks in which his inscription is currently tucked. He is just as much yours as you are his.

As you step out of the restaurant, masked and relaxed from all the wine and food, camera flashes make you jump. There are a couple people yelling Austin’s name, asking who you are and why you are wearing the same dress. Neither of you respond, getting into the car quickly.

“I was going to suggest a walk on the beach but I think they found us… “ he comments, looking out the window with his arm along your low back.

“In this dress? Oh no Sir,” you say innocently, “besides, we have loose ends to tie up before I leave tomorrow.”

He looks back at you a little confused, but your hand touches your necklace and his expression shifts into barely hidden passion. He pushes his hand lower. You lean forward, giving him access, just looking like you are resettling yourself in the seat as the car drives away. His fingertips feel through the fabric of the dress for the hard metal in your crack. He leans towards you, whispering “My Kitten” in your ear. He gently wiggles the plug, sending jolts of pleasure to your core. You try not to let your desire show in your face, but you can’t help biting your lip. The car hits a bump, your pussy swells with fluid. You turn to him, he’s staring at you with his ocean eyes all soft and you can barely breathe.

He is the most beautiful thing on the planet.

Then his lips are on yours. The taste of the citrusy desert Riesling he finished blending with the creamy vanilla of the last bite of the panna cotta he fed you lingering on your tongue. It’s like desert in a kiss, and the rest of the world falls away. It’s just you and him, in the backseat of a car. Each minute spent with his palm cupping your ass and fingers nestled in your crack another minute closer to tearing his clothes off and his being inside you. Each jostle of the drive spiking your arousal. The driver can't drive fast enough.

You can feel your saturated panties sticking to your labia as you get out of the car in front of your apartment block. There are paparazzi there too, trying to get you to respond to their questions. You force yourself to walk calmly into the building, letting Austin hold the door open for you instead of ripping it open and dragging him inside.

Once inside the safety of your apartment, your coat falls unheeded to the floor as you stride to the kitchen island, your clutch clattering on the marble surface. Austin is right behind you, toeing off his boots and removing his white jacket and tossing it onto a chair.

“I want..,” your breathy words unfinished as you turn around to find him upon you. Clutching his open shirt, you pull him to you, body and lips pressed up against his. There is no room for subtly, you need him.

He returns your kiss ferociously, just as needy as you are, hands wrapped around you.

He pulls away from your hungry mouth.

“What do you want Kitten?” he asks softly, looking down at you with fiery eyes.

You look down, licking your lips, then boldly into his eyes. You grab his wrists.

“Oh Austin, Mon Roi, I want everything,” you declare, “I want to rip the shirt off your body. I want your hands tugging my hair as you pull me onto your cock.” You lift a finger to his lips, tracing down, down to his open shirt, “I want my juices dripping down your chin and neck.”

Words just start tumbling out of your mouth, your demon pulling out the list she made months ago.

“I want to watch you jerk off on to your own stomach. I want to ride you into oblivious bliss. I want my pussy so full of you I can’t remember any other way of being. I want rope marks to run my fingers over and your hand print on my ass for a week.” You grab his hips digging in your fingers as you pull him towards you. “I want bruises from your fingertips from holding me down, as you fuck me hard.” You dig your fingers into the side of your neck.” I want you to leave bite marks on my neck as I cum. I want you ten ways to Sunday." Your eyes flutter half closed as your hand drags down your neck and over your cleavage,” I want your cum everywhere, in me, on me, all fucking night long. I want my name to drip off your lips like an incantation. I want this butt plug out and your cock in.” You take his hand and guide it up to your neck, “I want your hand on my throat as you fuck me from behind. I want you to fuck my pussy with your fingers as you pound my ass with your cock.” Your voice dips into the alto, intense with want, “I want to cum so hard I can’t see straight.” Your entire body is essentially vibrating with arousal, your pupils wide and black with lust.

Austin listens to your monologue of desire. His eyebrows twitch up at certain things, his lip catches in his teeth at others. His breath begins to sharpen as your words spill like ink in water.

“Oh my, well,” he says low and intense as his hand slowly snakes up the back of your neck to bury in your hair. He pulls your head back gathering you to him tightly. He lovingly presses his lips to yours, his body to yours. He is hunched over you, a devilish smile spreads across his lips as his other hand reaches between you. You hear the jangle of his belt popping open, ”we’d better get started.”

A devious, shaking smile spreads across your face as you lean back, gripping the edges of his shirt. You pull violently, buttons pinging off the island, the floor and the cabinets. The sound of fabric ripping is so gratifying.

“Oh girl you are gonna…..” he begins shaking his head, maybe upset, but is caught short for words in an inhale as your fingers find his sensitive nipples.

His eyes narrow as he lets his trousers fall to the floor and he kicks them away, leaving him in a ripped shirt and his cute boxer briefs. You would giggle, if you weren’t so fucking turned on.

He leans back against the counter behind him. He pulls himself out and pushes you down to your knees. His hand lands on a bottle of liquid coconut oil next to the stove. He turns it over and several drops fall onto his cock. He is inches from your eyes.

“I’ve half a mind to tie you up and make you watch me jerk off for ruining my shirt, darling,” he says, voice like honey.

“Sorry baby, but I’m not really sorry. You are too fucking hot to be properly clothed,” your hands are grabbing your own tits then down pulling up the skirt of your dress to rub your covered crotch.

He is achingly beautiful. Filling your vision with the naked ridges of his stomach framed by the black ruins of his shirt and his hand spreading the oil on his gorgeous cock. A living, sacred artifact for you to worship at.

His half lidded eyes watch your hands disappear under the fabric of your skirt.

“Get your hands out from under that dress hunny. Only I get to pleasure you tonight,” he says with a slight reprimand. You acquiesce with a little involuntary pout. Instead you run your hands up his thighs and hook your fingers on his underwear, pulling them off. He lets go of his cock, grabbing the oil again. A generous drop of coconut oil falls from the upturned bottle onto his thumb.

“Open up, love,” he smears the dripping oil clockwise onto the lips of your open and needy mouth. Your tongue curls around his thumb, sucking it off. His other hand gripping the hair at the back of your head.

“Now,“ pulling his thumb out from your mouth, ”I want you to suck that cock like you ARE sorry.”

You press your lips together, blotting the oil in like lipstick. You’ve never used oil before on a blowjob. Your lips slip over his velvety head, tongue relishing the tropical, nutty flavor. You are struck by how easily you glide down his shaft. Your tongue works its magic as he moans above you, gripping your hair. Your eyes flutter in oral pleasure and you glide up and down on him. His oiled length feels so fucking luxurious in your mouth. You lift your eyes to his, he pushes forward, hand holding your head still. He watches as his cock slowly disappears into your shiny mouth.

“Oh god Kitten, I can’t get over how fucking sexy you make…. everything,” his voice low and dripping with thirst.

You raise a cupped hand, indicating that you want more oil. He obliges. You close your fist, coating your hand and bring it to his balls. Rocking your hand back and forth you slather him in oil, pressing back over his taint and asshole with your fingers. Watching his face through your eyelashes, you press your oiled finger against his bum. His breathing quickens and he nods, stepping his legs further apart.

You smile around his delicious cock as you push your finger in. His hands are both tangled in your hair but he is holding still, moaning, lost in the feeling of your finger penetrating him. You slide in and out a little. His hips jerk a little and he pulls your mouth away from his cock. His now dark eyes looking down at you, as you finger his ass slowly, your tongue coursing over your smiling lips.

“God what are you doing to me, baby,” he says rhetorically. His eyes, intense with lust, are borderline feral.

“Use me Austin,” you say huskily, “use my mouth, while I play with your ass. I want your cum all over me.” On the word ‘cum’ you curl your finger forward to press on his prostate.

Your words and finger movement elicit a deep growl that propels him past feral. He drives his unctuous cock into your mouth again. His long fingers wrapping tightly in your coiffed hair.

Sweet Goddess, this always gets you so damn hot. You glide your tongue on the underside of his shaft as you curl your finger rhythmically, igniting his every nerve.

He is pumping in and out of your mouth making you gag periodically. When he does your pussy clenches and slippery fluid pools on your sodden panties.

You milk his prostate, sliding in and out of his oiled ass. Your other, unoiled, hand has a death grip on his thigh. Tears leak slowly out your eyes as he pulls your hair tight and rams into your mouth.

Salacious sounds continually pour from his throat to splatter around your ears. Every utterance and outcry, music to your inner demon as you thrust your finger into him harder. Feeling his prostate contract under the pressure of your finger, he jerks.

“Oh you fucking little…” he looses your hair and pulls out of your mouth just as his cum spurts out onto your tongue, your chin, your neck, your chest. You keep milking him from the inside and stroking him from the outside as he shivers and groans. His hands gripping your shoulders to keep upright. As the last of his milky semen spills from his tip, you dash forward to suck him clean in long, swallowing strokes.

“Oh fuck, stop baby,” his voice barely a whisper.

You pull back, eyes still filled with lust as you slip your finger out of him. He groans and slumps against the counter, breathing hard. You stand up and wash your hands thoroughly at the sink. You can feel his cum dripping down your cleavage. Your leg shakes and your depraved hips rock against nothing.

You feel his hands on your hips, turning you around as you shut off the water. He takes in your appearance, from your tousled hair to the creamy drips on the front of your dress.

“Look at what you’ve made me do. Naughty, naughty Kitten making me cum all over you,” his right fingers trace through the splatter of cum on your neck and cleavage.

“Lift your ruined dress like a good little hussy,” his voice oozes with command.

You gather and pull the fabric up over your hips with your wet hands. He reaches down, pressing his cum covered fingers hard against the already drenched cotton panel of your panties. You moan and shiver, rocking against him brazenly.

He uses his left thumb to push the cum on your chin up into your mouth. Your hand grabs his wrist holding it there as you suck in his thumb deep, savoring the taste of him.

“Pull your panties down,” he whispers into your ear.

Fuck. You love it when he commands you like this.

Your simple cotton panties peel wetly off your lips as you slide them to your mid thighs. He lightly grazes your dripping labia as he kisses your mouth, hand sliding to your jaw. Fuck you want him so badly. His cum on your skin is like a twisted love potion.

He maneuvers behind you.

“Like this baby?” he asks, pulsing his hand on your throat. You guide his thumb and last three fingers from your jaw to the sides of your cum spattered neck, his forefinger still pressing your jawline. His hand lightly rests against your skin with space between his palm and your windpipe.

“Ok Kitten, pull me away if you want me to let go” he says in your ear. You just nod, keeping your hand on his wrist. “Now spread those legs for me baby, and keep your dress out of the way.” You do, panties stretching to their limit around your knees.

His hand slides down your mons and curls his long fingers directly into your sopping pussy. He wastes no time trying to tease you, rocking in and out of you, palm rubbing your mons. His finger-fucking jostling the plug buried in your ass.

“My dirty girl. You are so incredibly wet. Did you like sucking my cock, huh? Did making me spurt all over you get you this wet?”

“Uh huh,” you moan.

“Are you my little cum slut?” his fingers squeeze slightly, you can feel the throb of your blood pulsing in your neck.

“Yes,” you nod in agreement, ”I love your cum” you moan.

He pinches and rolls your slippery clit between thumb and fingers before he rubs vigorously across your clit then slides into you once again. You cry out wordlessly. You are so close to cumming.

“What did you say? ‘Use me’,” his lips wet against your ear, “you like me fucking your mouth, don’t you?”

“Oh god yes,” you whine, both answering and affirming the pleasure he is giving you. His fingers are steady, yet gentle on the sides of your neck. Your breathing is just fine but you are starting to feel a bit lightheaded. He is making you feel so fucking high. Your moans rise from your throat over and over, vibrating against his hand.

“Yeah? That’s it, come for me baby, cum like the sexy little demon you are,” his finger fucking more frantic now. Your pussy is on the verge of bursting.

“Oh fuck Austin YES!” You scream as his teeth sink unexpectedly into the fleshy crook of your neck. So many layers of sensation colliding as you cum on his fingers like a string puppet, internal muscles clenching as your hips shudder.

He continues to slam into your pussy, riding out your orgasm. His arm slides from your neck down around your torso and catches your weight as your legs give out. Your juices drip from his fingers as he pulls away from your pussy to grab your waist, leaving wet finger prints on the blue fabric of your dress… his dress. You breathe deep, against him until your feet come back under you again as you turn and drape your arms around his neck. Kissing him in a post-orgasm haze until you recover.

“What was that you said, ‘you want my handprint on your ass for a week?” his lips moving along yours, “well you’ve earned that, ruining our clothes and making me so fucking horny for you.” He presses his hips to your leg.

You smile and flick your tongue out to lightly lick his lips. He turns you back around and unzips your messy dress, letting it and your panties fall around your feet. He bends you over the island, the cold surface against your nipples makes you gasp. He runs his hands along your back and down to your crack, pulling your cheeks apart.

“My kitten’, god I love seeing that in your ass,” he leans down and kisses one butt cheek, rubbing lengthwise along the silver words and sapphire. It makes your stomach clench, pushing out a little shaky moan.

“How many do you want?” he asks.

You are perplexed and look over your shoulder at him trying to figure out what he means.

Crack! He slaps your ass making you jump, “How many?”

“Oh! um…, 8?” picking a random even number.

“Alright, you have to count ‘em,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

He starts showering your ass with small swats. Tiny little pleasurable stings that make you moan as warmth spreads on your cheeks.

CRACK! On the soft rounded part of your ass.

“One,” you say trying to keep your cool. The plug in your ass adding to the sensations.

His hand rubs the spot.

“Are you sorry you fucked up my shirt?” he asks, sounding slightly ominous.

“No Sir, the rewards" you peer over your shoulder at his sexy fucking form, "outweigh the risks.”

CRACK! Warmth starts to radiate from the exact same spot.

“Two,” louder this time.

He soothes the spot with gentle rubs and kisses and soft slaps all around.

“Are you sorry you made me cum all over you?” he asks.

“No Sir, never,” you say confidently.

CRACK! Again in the same spot, it does more than sting this time.

‘Fuck’ you mutter.

“Count or we will start over, pet,” he threatens.

“Three,” loudly and quickly.

CRACK! Hard, harder than the others.

“FOUR!” you yelp out.

“That’s my girl,” his cool fingertips running gently along the heat blooming from your cheek. Then down to your crack. His fingers are playing with the base of your plug, pushing it in, pulling on it, stimulating those nerve endings. You squirm and push back at him, wanting more.

“Oh look how eager you are to have your ass played with,” he says, wiggling the plug.

“Yes Sir,” you moan.

He chuckles low in his throat and leans over you.

“I can’t wait for you to take every inch of me,” his deep baritone in your ear.

CRACK! On the other cheek, you are gonna have matching handprints.

“Oh-hoho, five, yes Sir, I want every inch,” you moan.

He peppers your ass again with stinging slaps, making sure to ‘accidentally’ bump into your plug. It feels so tantalizing.

CRACK! On top of the last.

“SIX!” you cry out.

His hand slips lower between your legs, two fingers slipping into your wet slit.

“Oh Kitten, look,” he pulls out and shows you his spread fingers. A line of slick connecting the two. You pull his hand towards your mouth, sucking his fingers eagerly.

CRACK! His other hand thrashing the same spot.

“Seben,” you moan around his fingers, ass blazing from the impact.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth. You feel the head of his cock rubbing back and forth at your entrance.

“Why so wet now?” he asks innocently, “Do you like being my wicked Kitten and needing your ass spanked?”

CRACK!

“Or is it my cock,” he plunges himself deep into you like a sword sizzling in water. You wriggle and moan on the end of his rod. God it feels so good to have inside you. You push back, frantically trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Yes baby, ride that cock, fuck back onto me,” his gravely, lust filled voice consumes your brain.

His fingers curl into the crease of your hip, digging in as he yanks you deeper onto his cock.

Your hand snakes down to diddle your clit, but he catches your wrist.

“Oh no sweetheart, remember, I’m the only one that gets you off tonight,” he grabs both wrists, holding them back by your hips using them as leverage as he rails your pussy. Hard and deep he fucks you, a deep spiral of pleasure starts twisting inside you.

“Yes! Fuck! Austin!” you keen, feeling a surprise climax approaching.

Just as quickly as he sheathed himself in you, he is out.

“NO PLEASE!“ you yell, orgasm almost ruined, breaking his grasp as you push up, his sticky cum leaving a mess on the white marble. “More, I want more, please! I’m so close!”

“Oh, but hunny, you didn’t count the last one,” he kisses your nose tenderly before flipping you around and pushing you back onto the cold marble, “let’s make this more interesting.”

You feel him slowly pulling on the plug, as cool oil drips onto your widening asshole. It feels exquisite as it slides over the drop off point.

CRACK! He is still intent on the same spot on your ass.

“One,” you breathe out, a little whine in your voice.

He starts fucking your ass with the plug.

“Oh fuck yes!” you moan, fingertips turning white as they dig into the countertop.

CRACK! CRACK! Both on the same side.

“Two! three! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!,” the deep spiral climbing again. You push against the plug working in and out of your ass.

CRACK! He isn’t waiting or soothing you anymore. He also isn’t taking it easy, he wants your ass red hot.

“FOUR!” you yell out, voice deep as pain becomes pleasure.

He pushes the plug back in, watching your ass snuggle it in as you moan. Then his cock is back inside you for one, two, three long strokes accompanied by your wordless moans. He pulls out.

CRACK! On the other side, then a hard thrust to balls-deep inside you.

“FIVE! Yes please fuck my pussy, fuck my pussy hard!” the words falling from your mouth.

CRACK!

He freezes in mid-stroke, “Who’s pussy?” he growls.

“Si-i-x, your pussy Austin, it’s your pussy, please fuck me please,” you are writhing against him.

He slowly and gently pushes in and out of you, mocking your pleas.

“Please, faster Austin, I’m so close, I need it hard!” you are begging, teetering on the edge.

“Oh how I love to hear you beg-” he slams into you hard, “for my cock, Kitten.”

“Oh fuck yes, like that, harder please, please please.”

He relents and pounds into you over and over. Quickly you are thrust into the swirl of a deep orgasm, flaming from the heat in your cheeks, the plug in your ass and the cock beating the man of your dreams is giving you.

“FUCK YES! FUCK YES!” your open palms pound the counter.

CRACK! CRACK! Your climax catapults.

“HOLY FUCK!! SEVEN, EI-EI-EI-GHT!” your bucking almost slams your head into the hard marble under you as your spasms quake your frame. It’s mind-alteringly good.

He slows his motion, worried you may damage yourself. He pets your back in long calming strokes, letting you catch your breath. Sliding out of you he gently pulls you to standing and holds you close, heedless of the cum still smeared on your chest. Your ass is throbbing most deliciously.

“Oh fuck that was good Aus,” you pant as you look up into his eyes all dreamy and weak.

“Mmm, hmmm,” his face is a picture of devotion and love. He pulls you into a sweet kiss. A kiss that pushes your hot backside against the cold cabinets. A kiss that frames your face with his hands.

“Let’s see now," he says when he comes up for air, "cum all over you: check, shirt ripped: check,” he gives you a pursed lip look.

You just smile sheepishly. He laughs, obviously not too upset.

“Hand on your throat and bite marks on your neck while you cum: check and check. Handprints on your ass,” he leans behind you to look, “Oh my, that will definitely be a check.” He is grinning ear to ear. “Now, what was at the end? Oh yes, fingering your pussy and pounding your ass, I believe. Oh and cum IN you…mustn’t forget that.”

He scoops you up in his arms, ripped shirt still hanging from his shoulders. Fuck he is strong, and hot and amazing and everything you’ve ever dreamt a man should be. You hold to him as he carries you to the bedroom.

He gently lays you down on the bed and lays himself, just as gently, partially on top of you. His dominance of you gone, spent in the throes of your orgasm. His kisses are tender, lips soft on yours, like there is nothing else in the world, like you aren’t flying away in a matter of hours. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh, though he does nothing to rush to his own pleasure. His hands lightly run along your curves. His fingers leave sparkling trails on your body. You press soft moans into his mouth as his guitar-calloused fingertips spark on the sensitive bits he knows all too well.

You reach for him too, every nook and cranny of his body an opiate delivered through your fingertips. From the rippling of his abs to the soft roundness of his shoulder muscles; from the lean V at the front of his hips to the long length of his thighs; the round curve of his fine ass up along the magnificence of his lats, you are intent on memorizing every last inch of his divine form. All the while his lips are on yours, tongues dancing unhurriedly against one another. He traces those long, dexterous digits down your arm, intertwining with your fingers.

His mouth pulls away from yours, he brings your laced hands up to his mouth, planting kisses on your knuckles.

“Plug out and cock in, right?” he smiles so sweetly it makes your heart ache and your pussy clench all at the same time. You’ve never felt such a cocktail of emotions: such lust, such love and such heartache all rolled into one moment, one man.

You nod as he lets your hand go, sliding it between your opening legs. His kiss starts out light almost absentminded as he focuses on grasping the base of the plug. His pressure on your mouth deepens as he pulls. Your hand grips his shoulder, the pleasure of your stretching asshole making you groan into him. Then it slips out. He pulls away to set it aside, snagging the lube that you guys took to keeping next to the bed.

“Can I try from on top of you baby? Do you feel stretched enough? I want to feel close to you,” he asks.

“I’d like that,” you reply nodding, pulling your knees up to tilt your pelvis.

He moves up on his knees in between your legs, lubing up his gorgeous cock.

Oh. My. God. You love this sight, you want it burned into your brain.

He leans forward, intent on entering you.

“No,” you breathe, holding up your hand and lowering your knees, “Please, I want to watch you stroke yourself.”

A smile curves his exquisite mouth. Once he was shy about touching himself in front of you. Now he lifts up on his knees brazenly, angled just a bit to the side so you can watch his beautiful, long fingers stroke along the corresponding beautiful length of his cock. FUCK.

“I’ve never known a girl who gets turned on from watching a guy jerk off as much as you do, babe,” he comments, slowly gliding the length of himself for you, “tell me what you like about it.”

“First of all,” you retort, “it’s not just any guy, love. Just you, I’ve only ever been turned on like this watching you.”

He is suddenly bashful, puffing out a breath through a smile and looking away from you, long lashes hiding his eyes. All the while his hand is still moving on his dick. His coyness and brashness collide in sexy-as-fuck vulnerability.

“I like seeing your hard cock,” you explain, “the way your hand and arm get tense as you really get into it,” your fingertips brush his wrist.

His eyes lift to yours, half lidded in desire as his timidness falls away. He strokes a little harder.

“I like the way your hips push forward into your hand when you're on your knees or standing up, the way your ass tightens and your abs and thighs strain,” your words begin to be punctuated by your own involuntary breaths and sounds of pleasure.

“I love way you watch your cock in your hand, brows all furrowed when you get close, trapping that scrumptious lip with your teeth. Fuck me running,” the last murmured to you self. Your hips are rocking forward and back, the covers rubbing on your now tender ass.

“Austin just watching you makes my pussy so fucking wet, look,” you reach down and pull your lips apart, dipping a finger in your glistening entrance. A thick string of moisture comes away with your fingertip.

“Oh god Kitten,” his face is a picture of desire and want.

“Please fuck it, just a little.”

“Let me fuck it, just a little.”

You both say simultaneously, in the exact same tone of voice. The same hint of hungry smile spreads on both your faces.

Without hesitation he dives into your oh-so-wet cleft.

“Oh god yes!” you both softly moan. You pull him down to you, savoring the weight of him, the heat of him, his every fucking inch both inside and out. For a few minutes you are simply lost in one another, orgasm on neither of your minds.

This is just… the experience. The slow merging of two into one. The leisurely devouring of one another in long, slow, euphoric strokes, accentuated with kneading fingers and nibbling lips on skin. The unfurling of timeless motion as your toes drag along his calves and hamstrings, your legs opening up wider to swallow more of his length, of his soul.

Your breaths in synchronicity, eddying out against necks and ears. The blissful calm in the eye of the storm. Your eyes slip closed, focused on every feeling, every movement, filing away this moment for later.

“Look at me Kitten,” you feel his rumble as much as hear him say as his body stills.

Your eyes open to stare directly into his steel blue ones, you both forget how to breathe for a tick. Time freezes. It’s only you and him in all the world.

Long seconds pass before he lowers to kiss you, breath sucking in through nostrils. Lips sink into one another, then tongues find each other tentatively. His curls against yours. The slow, soft spell of the past few minutes is burned to ash in the sudden re-ignition of passion as you dive into his kiss, clenching around his cock.

“Do you still want me to fuck your ass baby,” he rumbles in your ear, cock slipping in and out of it’s own will, “cuz if you do we better start before I cream this pussy.”

“You mean your pussy,” you reply with a slight smile.

The corner of his lip and eyebrow raise just a bit as his head tilts as if to say ‘you’re not wrong’.

“Pourquoi pas les deux?” your slutty French demon asks, “Why not both? I want your cum everywhere and we have all night long.”

“My little cum slut,” he teases you with such tenderness, rocking in and out, “you might kill me, but at least I’ll die happy as fuck.”

You return his ‘you’re not wrong’ look, “donne moi tout, Mon Roi.”

He bites his lip, you know French flowing from your mouth turns him on, even if he doesn't exactly understand it.

"I'm gonna have to start learning French," he says.

“Give it all to me, My King,” you whisper softly in his ear.

The ‘oh’ comes out as a round breath from his lips on the way to your mouth. His hips pitch and swoop, in and out. You clench down hard, he is driving into you. His head falls into your shoulder

“Oui Mon Roi du chat,” your hands land on his ass, feeling his glutes squeeze and release.

“Cream your pussy baby,” your fingers drag up along his back, he feels so good on top of you.

“Give it to me, fill me,” one hand wraps around his back, the other cradles his head against you. Your face is buried in his hair, lips on his ear.

Your name, your real name, falls from his lips in a whisper over and over again, his speed picking up. You can tell he is close by the stuttering of his motion.

“Fuck!” he curls into you, lips dragging against your neck as he empties into you. He jerks once, twice, “Oh god,” he pants. He takes a few big breaths, then pulls back from you quicker than you expected.

“I want to watch it drip out of you,” he says, picking up his phone from the bedside table.

“Dirty boy,” you smile, lifting your legs for him.

He turns on the flashlight.

“Oh my god, it’s just a little at your entrance hunny,”

“Take a picture love, I want to see it,” you suggest.

His brow barely creases, “hmmm, who’s dirty?” he smiles, snapping pictures. “push it out baby.”

“You Austin, you are dirty,” you say with a smile, clenching down.

“Oh fuck, that is fucking hot,” one hand on his phone while the other dips his fingers into the cum trail dribbling down to your crack. A moan slips from you. His wet hand drifts to his cock, still hard, giving it one or two gentle strokes with his own cum. His body shakes as he stimulates himself.

“You are right, Kitten, I am a dirty boy,” the dimple above his left lip appearing as he smirks.

You smile, venting an appreciative chuckle, “You still all turned on hunny? Cuz I have somewhere you can put that, y’know.”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna need a little minute ‘fore I can cum again,” he reaches for a bottle of water.

“Naturally, biology being what it is,” you comment, watching his Adam's-apple bob as he swallows. He hands you the bottle. Staying hydrated is important. As you let the cool water slip down your well fucked throat, he leans over to his side of the bed, coming up with two hanks of black rope.

“It’ll give me time for this,” he says, smirking.

Your eyes widen as an appreciative breath escapes you. You put the water down and offer your wrists to him. The tip of his tongue touches the corner of his top lip and he just laughs low and evil.

“No, not like that,” he leans into you, hot breath on your neck and whispers, “get on your knees.”

You stare at his eyes as he leans back, unsure of what he plans but sure that whatever it is, you want it.

“On the bench,” he motions to the end of the bed, “and get up on your toes, hands behind your back.”

You kneel there and watch him pull the first hank free of itself. Lord almighty, how is he so insatiably sexy? Safety scissors fall into his hand from the middle of the wrap, he sets them on the end of the bench. He steps close to you sliding his hands to your mons, letting his hand linger there.

“Wider Kitten,” he nods to your knees. You comply, but only barely, feeling rebellious out of nowhere. You wonder what he’ll do.

His eyebrow lifts, canting his head. Your insubordinate eyes never leave his.

Slap. Your pussy barely tingles, not much room for him to get a good smack.

“Wider.”

You open more, but not much, eyebrow lifting in defiance. If he is gonna spank your pussy, you might as well give him a reason.

Slap! More sting on that one, you barely inhale.

“Wi-der,” he says slowly, pointedly and low in his chest.

Your lip twists up and your chin lifts marginally. Your knees stay put.

His eyes narrow, as his fingertips trace over your thighs to your knees. He leans in towards you.

“Brat,” he says, before forcing your knees apart. Your outbreath a barely perceptible moan in your throat, bottom lip sucked under your teeth.

Damn that was fucking hot.

You expect him to slap you again, but instead brings the long doubled rope around your upper thigh and under your ankle, pulling the end through the loop and back on itself.

Your lip flips from under your teeth into a pout. He ignores your subtle displeasure and winds the tail twice more around your leg and ankle, slipping it through the bottom loop. He pulls and adjusts the tension, making it tight so you can’t move your leg, but not so much that it’ll cut off circulation. He threads the ends between your and thigh and ankle twice, tying them together in a simple square knot on the outside of your thigh with a long tail. You’ve never been frog-tied like this. Visions of how he might use you explode in your head.

As he starts on the other side, he brushes past your pussy with his fingertips, teasing you. Your hips gravitate forward in hopes of repeat contact.

“Tch, tch, tch,” Austin shakes his head. He looks you in the eye and places his hands on your hips and slowly pushes your hips back down. His thumbs drag down in the crease between your labia and your hip joint, charging your desire. He casually returns to his binding of you.

When he is done confining your other leg, he ties the long tails to either side of the bed frame. The second side he pulls, forcing your bratty legs open. Being so involuntarily exposed to him, to anything he wants to do to your wet, sloppy pussy, the feeling that you can’t hide yourself by shutting your legs, is exhilarating.

He stands off to the side, rubbing your dripping pussy in long strokes with his right hand. One or two dark, tiny pools of cum and juices drip onto the hard surface of the bench.

“Now,” he starts tapping your exposed pussy, “my slutty little brat, you need to be chastised for your insolence.”

Shit, you had momentarily forgotten your cheeky disobedience.

Slap! It smarts. You inhale sharply and exhale a smile.

“Oh you like that do you?” his smile seeps across his lips, “Well then I won’t stop ‘till you’ve learned your lesson,”

Slap!

His eyes glued to yours, as he punishes your pussy, lightly at first, but then with increasing intensity. You can tell he doesn’t want to really hurt you, that he’s not actually mad. It’s just part of the dominance play.

SLAP!

He keeps spanking steady, relentless, no soothing strokes in between. Your pussy is heating up quicker than you thought. You jerk and moan with each wet strike, pulling in vain against the rope. Cum and juices splattering your inner thighs. Your unbound hands instinctively try to cover your increasingly throbbing pussy.

Austin grabs both your wrists, pinning them to your low back with his left hand, digging his finger tips in hard.

“No, no, Kitten, your bratty little demon needs this,” he says calmly. He’s not wrong.

He resumes his persistent discipline. You want to take it, you want him to tell you that you are his good girl. You want him to pet you and kiss you and praise you for taking so much of his punishment. You want his fingers or cock in you along with the harsh tingles of this pussy paddling.

“Please, Austin, please finger me, fuck me,” you moan, legs and hips shaking in want, in need.

“Oh that’s not what this is about love,” he coos to you, “not yet anyway.”

SLAP!

Your pussy is buzzing, it's almost too much. Yearning for that blissful mix of pain and pleasure.

“Please,” you moan.

“Please what, Kitten,” his lips are on your neck.

SLAP!...

SLAP! …

SLAP!..

His strokes are lazy, and slower now, but no less intense.

“Please Austin,” not sure what he wants, not sure what you want.

SLAP!

“Please Austin what?” his forehead presses against your temple.

“Please. Austin, I’ll be your good girl!”

SLAP!

“Oh, I know you will, Kitten,” his lips caress your cheek.

SLAP!

“Please Austin, Stop!” you groan out.

He stops and rubs in slow soft circles that are tantalizingly good.

“Oh baby, you lasted longer than I thought you would. But I’m afraid I have to give you three more.”

A whine escapes your lips.

SLAP!

Hard. You squeal, pulling against his grip and the flesh of your thighs bulging against the tautness of the rope.

“You gonna do as I say now?” he asks.

SLAP!

Harder. You nod vigorously.

“Say it” he cajoles, petting your lips in long strokes.

“Yes Austin, I’ll do as you say,” it falls like a prayer from your mouth. Amen.

“That’s my good girl. One more baby, you can take one more,” his voice is low and soothing. He presses his lips to yours.

SLAP!

Hardest. He catches your sharp shriek in his mouth, biting your lip.

“Such a good girl for me, I’m so proud of you baby.” he lets your wrists go. Little indentations on your skin from his fingers. He lays you back on the bed, legs still tied apart. He quickly pushes the bench out of the way and smiling dips his head between your legs.

He plants soothing kisses on your pussy lips which turn into little moaning licks, which turn into wide tongue laps. Holy crap it feels so good on your buzzing lips.

Again and again his tongue caresses your lips, dipping in to flick across your clit.

Your fingers weave through his messy black locks, raking and grasping.

He has you close to cumming when he finally lifts his head, chin glossy with wetness.

“Oh god Austin, that is so good!” your chest heaving with breath.

“You got me so hard again Kitten,” his voice husky with desire, “I’m gonna untie you from the bed now. You want me to untie your legs too?” he asks, rubbing your thighs where they were straining against the rope.

You smile and shake your head.

“Dirty girl,” he says, leaning over to untie the long tails. You open and close your legs like butterfly wings, to move your hip joints.

“Are you ready for me?” he asks, standing up. He dribbles lube onto the tip of his hard cock. Droplets slide down the sides before he slathers it around his hard shaft.

“Oh yes please,” your eyes following his lubed hand, the clenching of your pussy giving you goosebumps. Your bound legs give him good access as he drips lube onto your already wet crotch, rubbing it into your supple hole. You breathe out an excited ‘oh’.

He positions the tip of his cock, you reach down to help guide him into your ass. He pushes, you relax into the stretching. Holy fuck it feels so good.

He goes slow, but it’s easier, thanks to the butt plug.

Both of you are savoring every inch as he creeps deeper in, moaning low.

“Come be close to me,” you reach your arms out to him.

Then he is leaning down on top of you again, your bound legs cradling his torso.

“Such a good girl for me, Kitten,” he is saying, about half his cock is in you when he pulls back slowly.

Your eyes are rolling back in your head, eyelids fluttering. Breath ceasing to move, he feels so fucking good.

“Is it ok, hunny, are you alright?” he checks in with you.

“Fuck, you are heaven on a biscuit” it just floats from you mouth.

Having him inside you, stretching your ass, with his body laid out on yours, it just feels so glorious. You can’t help but be present in the moment. There is no virus, no pandemic, no paparazzi, no family to appease, no Antarctica, no worry, no question of the love and passion between you.

He pushes in again, deeper this time, then out.

“UGH, oh fuck,” you moan, clutching him to you.

“My good girl, taking every inch of me so well,” as he presses in deep again, his hands grasping your head.

He is kissing you, gently sucking your moans into his lungs, as he moves in and out of your ass. The sensations in your pelvic floor building, stroke by brilliant stroke.

“How is it love, ready for more?” his forehead to yours.

Your head shakes in a nod, your ‘yeah’ little more than a breath amongst the noises of pleasure already venting from your chest.

With a sensuous smile, he lifts his torso off yours to come to standing, but still buried deep in you. Your breath is coming out as soft pants, knowing what is coming. His jerking off got you so hot, he brought you close when he fucked your pussy, heightened your sensations when he spanked it, teetered you on the edge with his tongue. Now, you are desperate for release.

“How is my pussy doing baby, does it need some,” his fingers slide in, ”attention?”

He curls right into your swollen and ridged g spot. He knows exactly what he is doing to you.

“Oh shit, that’s good.” your abs tighten you into a curl, “Fuck me Austin!”

“Oh, are you my cum slut AND a cock whore?” he asks.

“I am,” you nod, your demon staring him down brazenly, “I’m YOUR cock whore. Now, fuck my ass.”

His lips press together and a deep grunting “mmm” resounds from his throat as his eyes narrow.

Whether from concern about hurting you, or just to be a fucking tease, Austin’s moves, but slowly. Then his fingers start their magic inside you. It’s so good.

“Harder,” you moan.

“Oh I don’t think so, I’m gonna build you up slowly, make it last,” his words drip from his tongue, enunciating the /st/.

“Oh fuck, Austin,” you moan. Even though you want him hard and fast, his words and pace have you creeping towards delirium.

Slow in, slow out, your walls clenching with each stroke, fingers pressing and curling rhythmically inside you. Time ceases to be counted by minutes and seconds and is now present only in terms of In/Clench and Out/Curl

His cobalt eyes are heavy with desire watching your blown pupils and furrowed brow.

In/Clench, Out/Curl.

His top teeth notching that luscious bottom lip, as yours quiver out breathy moans and ‘oh’s each time he thrusts.

In/Clench, Out/Curl

Layer upon layer of sexual tension builds.

In/Clench, Out/Curl

“Please Austin, please, please” you moan out, body shaking with near frenzy.

In/Clench, Out/Curl

His chest is heaving, breath coming in low growls. He is almost as close as you are.

In/Clench, Out/Curl

“You want it baby?” his teeth are clenched tight.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” your tone a plea rather than an answer.

“You got it," instantly he abandons all pretense of slowness and is driving into your ass, thrusting his fingers into your squelching pussy.

He is hard.

He is fast.

He is divinity in motion.

The gradual expansive energy that was creeping inside you is suddenly forced to capacity.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” the hoarse scream rips from your throat. The dams burst and you crack wide open. The shapeless screams radiating from deep in your gut almost drowning out his deep guttural outcry of pleasure. Pounding into you, his free hand grabs the rope tied around your legs for purchase. Like two converging rivers crashing and rolling over one another, his orgasm joins yours. You flood out and over his fingers as he floods in, deep inside you. Both roiling in passion, both thrashing, both screaming.

It’s Nirvana. Elysium. Heaven.

He tenses and everything is silent as the last drop of his cum pumps into you. Then you are both clinging to the other panting, shaking, moaning.

One deep breath, two, then three.

“God I love you, Kitten,” his face almost tortured with emotions, “nothing will ever stop me loving you,” his hands frame your face.

You just stare at him, caught in the maelstrom of emotions, unable to find the words for what is blooming out of your chest.

“This is unreal, Austin,” one hand tapping your own chest, over your rapidly beating heart. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know… that it could be this way, that love could feel…” you bury your hands in his tousled hair, you gaze in astonishment into his very soul, “like…this. I mean, saying ‘I love you too’ just isn't’... enough. I need better words.”

“Oh my love, your actions speak louder than words,” and his mouth is on yours.

Minutes later, you are unbound and curled up together. Neither of you are ready to leave the sanctity of your timeless bubble, even to clean up. Your fingers are playing, laced with his.

“I’m sorry I was a brat Austin,’ you say softly looking into his eyes.

“Don’t be sorry love, that whole scene was hot as fuck,” he smiles, ”I think we ticked all your boxes, yeah?”

“I think… wait, I still want to watch you cum on your own stomach,” you lazily run your fingertips over his abs.

“Baby,” he pulls you close,” I will cum anywhere you want, but I gotta shower and rest and maybe eat something.”

“You are so fucking good to me, Austin,” you curl up your head into his chest.

“Same,” he kisses the top of your head. “I just have one question, Kitten,” his voice almost amused, “where the fuck did ‘heaven on a biscuit’ come from?” he asks.

You look up at him like he is crazy, then realize YOU said it. You just burst out laughing, still high on endorphins.

“I have no fucking clue! It just rolled off my tongue,” you giggle. ”Either all your southern Elvis charm has rubbed off on me or I only had two brain cells online and apparently one was hungry?”

“Well, from what I understand, everything's better with a biscuit,” he laughs.

#Austin Butler #Austin Butler smut #Austin Butler x reader #Austin Butler fic #Austin butler fanfic #@purejasmine #@slowsweetlove #@richardslady121 #Austin Butler as sex god

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sameschmidtdiffname · 7 months ago

Text

Sorry y'all this is Dani's over the top rant of the day, cuz what the fuck did they do to him

Like okay, he looks fine for the most part in the first movie! It's nomming, it's biting, he's having a bit of every portion on his plate

Then you see this browless fuck and you realize they did not need to do him like that for the bit, there's better dedication out there

(Like baby, listen, I love this era but those brows were brutal. Get a gel pen, it'll look so good then.)

Then we get Catching Fire and baby, this is hair IS catching fire!! It's eating, it's devouring, he has finished THG's plate AND his own!! The orphans are starving and dead, there are no resources left for the earth!!

Except the problem with this movie is that they did a little too good. It looks like Peeta went to a nice salon and had his little $700 Me Moment with a nice cut 'n' color. It's cuntifying, but at what cost? (And you really can tell when they redyed his hair for this movie because suddenly there will be a lot more blonde or a lot less blonde and now everyone knows nobody was happy with his hair that whole process. Baby, wigs are not hard. I severely promise you you had the money for wigs.)

Then we get this shit

Girl what in the uncooked raw noodle on a plate without any oil, sauce or 'fuck you' to flavor unbranded bland-ass bullshit is this

Now I said they figured out the brown to blonde ratio, I DIDN'T SAY IT WAS GOOD.

Look at him!! What the FUCK did you do to him??? He's traumatized? I'M traumatized. You didn't need to do him like that!! He looked fine earlier with his interview hair! It was beautiful, wonderful!

WHY'D YOU FUCK IT UP???

Oh but there's one moment where his hair looks nice. It looks beautiful. It looks perfect. Finally, the solution to the problem we've all been waiting for. And what was it exactly?

A wig. While he's fifty million yards away. At the end of the movie. No close up. No flash photography. Don't feed the geese. The solution all along was a wig and they didn't give it to him until Josh Hutcherson put his foot down and said "I am not re-dying my hair for this two second long scene, spend your goddamn money." Thanks Josh, for your extremely late actions.

I love how after the first Hunger Games movie they just stopped bleaching Josh Hutcherson's brows. It's so stupid, but it's one of those little things that just tickle the fuck out of me, like it changed his look so much I feel. I just- I wanna know who was the leading force behind that. Like was Josh himself just like "I look like an actual blonde, this is a hate crime." Or was the hair department like "okay, we went the monstrous One Singular Hair Color™️ (No Depth) route, can we please make him look human this time?" Or did the director just decide Peeta needed a Me Moment after finding out Katniss wasn't into him like that so he got his brows done and had his roots dyed for depth?? Is this a hint that man saw Coriolanus 'Purple Shampoo' Snow and said "not me, y'all stay safe tho." ??

(No because you can tell they really were bickering over what the fuck to do with his hair. He goes from straight 16 year old box bleaching for the first time with no toner in the first movie to his hair being different levels of bleached on a scene to scene basis in Catching Fire until they finally figure out what the fuck they're doing in Mockingjay and find a balance with the brown-blonde ratio, and even then he still doesn't really have the right skin tone to pull off natual blond. No wonder he says he hated the hair process. Say less my guy)

#peeta mellark #josh hutcherson #jhutch #jhutch1992 #peeta #thg peeta #jhutch4life #thg peeta mellark #the hunger games #thg #the hunger games movie #the hunger games peeta #catching fire #mockingjay #mockingjay part 2 #thg movies #thg series #josh hutcherson thg #thg josh hutcherson

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tsunderedoctor · 3 years ago

Note

Hi Purple 💖 I would like to request Headcanons...or mini scenarios? Whatever you want and are motivated to write! I think it's kinda an alternative universe idea?

The idea is: character and female reader had an argument/fight (you can decide why or just not mention the reason). Then character leaves for work and when he comes back he finds his s/o (sleeping and) cuddling with a pillow that wears his shirt.

How do they react? Characters are: Marco, Kidd, Shanks and if you want you can add Law?

Thanks a lot, have a great day and stay safe! ✨

Oh interesting idea! Sorry for the delay on answering this btw!! Also I changed a few of the cuddling portions so they were holding other items in their sleep, hope that’s okay! I also kept these in their world by accident- like I reread your ask and just realized now you wanted an AU- I’m so dumb-

I can totally rewrite a new prompt if you don’t like these ones! I’m so sorry my brain is fried 😭😭

Warning: swearing; mostly on Kid’s part, mentions of self-hatred on Shanks

Babes down below!!

Marco

You two rarely argue; usually Marco’s chill demeanor makes it easy to find a middle ground. However, after Whitebeard’s death, Marco has been picking up more responsibilities to keep the Whitebeard pirates in check. Which means he was working over his usual hours. You only brought it up out of worry for his wellbeing, but Marco took it in a more personal matter that you felt the crew wasn’t important.

In the end, you found yourself both upset and confused on how you feel. In both your minds you were right and you two were too stubborn to apologize. Marco went ahead and headed out first to check on the crew leaving you alone in your shared room.

You knew he wouldn’t come back till late tonight, meaning you had time to go through your emotions and thoughts alone. After a few hours you were finally able to see where he came from and how your words might have hurt him. A feeling of sadness washed over knowing he was probably still in some way hurt. Feeling tears prick your eyes, you quickly stand up and grab the first thing of his you can find. Curling up in bed you held his night shirt tightly to your chest, eventually you felt unsatisfied with just hugging his shirt and found yourself placing it around his pillow. Feeling his scent and some cushion you eventually drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Marco returned a few hours later, still feeling the ping of hurt himself at your words earlier. Knowing you were probably asleep he didn’t announce himself and got undressed to throw on his night clothes. Noticing his night shirt wasn’t where it was from that morning he turned to see if he left it on the bed. Seeing your sleeping figure holding his pillow with his shirt made his heart throb.

Finding himself crawling into bed next to you, he gently moved the pillow out of your arms and replaced them with his own body. Kissing your forehead as a silent apology the blond found himself overcome with a much needed rest.

Eustass “Captain” Kid

This man can’t help but argue! He loves to see the fire in your eyes and doesn’t mind if you swat at him a few times. However, everyone has their breaking points and he found yours. He likes to get under people’s skin, it’s what he’s good at, but seeing those idiots; Strawhat and the Surgeon of Death; not giving a shit about him put the red head in a foul mood.

Coming to check on his bandaged limb you didn’t expect to be greeted with a scowl. Figuring it wasn’t your problem and that he would get over it eventually you made your way over to rebandage him.

“Fuck off, I ain’t got time to deal with you shit.”

Feeling your smile twitch at his cold words you quickly sat the medical kit down and went to work. Grabbing his arm, you went to undo the bandage before he shoved you hands away.

“Are you deaf now too? Get lost, go find someone else to nag bitch.”

“You need to change your bandage, or do you want to get an infection smart ass?” You can feel your own anger rising from the surface, but tried to keep your cool knowing it wouldn’t work out for either of you.

“Like I give a shit, besides my devil fruit won’t let me get hurt too much, I ain’t weak like the likes of you.”

Clenching your hands, you tried once more to grab at the bandage.

“For fuck’s sake, when will you learn? I don’t need you!”

That was it, those words alone drove into your heart and down to your feet. You stood up and walked out leaving the man to bandage himself if he wanted to. He didn’t need you? Fine, let him rot away then.

You didn’t stop walking until you found yourself face first in your bed. Your body shaking on adrenaline alone as a broken sob exits your sore throat. Why did you even try with him? Sometimes you wondered if you were the crazy one between you two for even trying. Turning to face the window you were entangled with his fur coat. As another sob escaped your lips you clenched the coat for dear life.

After he had his time to cool down and ask someone else to rewrap his bandage, Kid came to grab his coat for another cold night of drinking. He figured you went out as well, but seeing you curled up fast asleep and using his coat as some blanket made the man want to stay indoors instead. He would never openly admit his apologies to you, but the least he could do would not wake you up in the morning with a hungover mess. He owed you that much.

“Red Haired” Shanks

Another one where you just don’t see yourself arguing with. He’s generally level headed and serious when he needs to be and knows just the right words to cheer you up. However, there were things that seemed to gain you the opportunity to see the red headed devil.

The man hates when you belittle yourself for whatever reason. In his eyes you are perfect, so why would you doubt his words. Are you subconsciously calling him a liar? It annoys the red head to no end seeing you struggle with your self-worth. Just when will you see how amazing you are?

However, seeing his fiery glare only backfired. Instead of understanding his side you quickly fell into a bigger form of self-hatred. You managed to make even him angry with you? Now you know for sure how pathetic you are.

Quickly walking out of the room before he could lash out at you, you ventured to the bedroom. Trying to wipe away your tears you found yourself hiding in your makeshift comfort space. Shank’s closet wasn’t spacious, but it managed to fit you in at the tail end right corner. Giving you the space you needed to calm down when things got too rough. Taking a deep breath, you held on to a worn out shirt of his, feeling yourself slowly relax your overwhelming nerves.

Shanks watched you leave and felt you needed time to digest his disappointment and irritation. He doesn’t mean to show his anger, but he also wants you to see how important you are to him. Deciding to give you the rest of the day to come to terms with that was the best he could do. Once the sun finally set and his crew was good for the night, he made his way to his room. Already forgetting his anger he happily entered and was greeted with a quiet emptiness. Looking around he couldn’t find you in the room nor the bathroom. Heading back to the room he almost left when he heard a quiet sound coming from his closet.

Opening it to see what it was, his worry quickly turned into relief and sadness. Your tear stained face was fast asleep while you were drooling cutely on a worn shirt of his. Sighing to himself at his stupidity for leaving you alone, he picked you up and placed you in bed. Perhaps he should find a better way to express how much you mean to him.

Trafalgar D. Water Law

Law has always been a stubborn man. Ever since birth the world had to work his way or he refused to accept it. You supposed that made sense how he managed to live so long with what he had faced. Still, it didn’t mean he was always right.

Law had decided to leave on his own for Punk Hazard, without the support of his crew. He felt that this was a battle he had to face alone. Part of you knew what he meant, but another part wish he understood the crew saw him as family too.

Voicing your concerns and feelings fell on deaf ears as the man continued to pack his things. Biting your lip you tried to make one last feeble attempt to get him to let the crew come.

“What if you don’t come back?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you felt the pain of bringing those thoughts to the air; but it was too late as he faced you.

“Then that means I failed and you picked a shitty captain to follow.” Whether he was joking or not you couldn’t tell, but his answer made your heart hurt even more. Shitty? Please he was the best, whether he wanted to admit it or not. No one could come close to accomplish the things he had in such time.

Stating he had to grab more things from the operation room before leaving for the night, he left you alone and empty inside your once sacred place. The rest of the day left you with no chance to talk with him as he seemed to avoid you like the plague. By the time the sun set you found yourself curled up against Bepo. He was another one who seemed to worry about his beloved captain. You had eventually drifted into a fitful sleep while the unsteadiness of the situation tried to settle in your stomach. Bepo was about to cover you up when Law entered the shared space among the crew.

“Captain! Are you leaving now?”

Law turned to face Bepo, seeing your worried expression even in your sleep. He nodded a silent reply before walking over to you two. “Once you reach Zou remember to stay hidden; if I don’t come, make sure no one finds out who you guys are. Trafalgar Law dies with your names as well, understand?”

Bepo could only nod and accept his captain's words as his grey eyes turned to face your sleeping figure. Taking off his old hat and replacing it with his new one, he placed the withered one on your head. It’s time to start anew for everyone, and that means you too.

#tsunderedoctor #ask #marco one piece #eustass captain kid #eustass kid #trafalgar d water law #tafalgar law #marco x reader #kid x reader #trafalgar law x reader #red haired shanks #red hair shanks #akagami no shanks #shanks x reader #one piece #one piece headcanons

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ushidoux · 4 years ago

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Good Teacher - Sugawara x Reader

Summary: You meet Sugawara on an online dating app expecting something tame, but get more than you expected. (~3.1k words)

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, some features are described ***, dom/sub dynamics, collaring, daddy kink, breathplay, dacryphilia, spanking, edging, toy use, restraint use, sub drop

A/N: Again, this was a commission so some features are described!! Otherwise, please enjoy my first longer BDSM fic.

---

Being alone in your bedroom at 9pm on a Friday night may have felt like a loss on any other day, but today, with your phone buzzing non-stop and every neuron in the sexy parts of your brain firing, you could not think of anything else you would rather do.

Well, actually you could think of a few, and most of them involved slipping out of your pajamas and slipping under your new flame.

Sugawara Koushi.

A name like that sounded sweet. Maybe even bland. Safe.

When you’d swiped right on his profile on the tamer of your social media apps, you’d expected someone mild-mannered and easy to speak to. He was an elementary school teacher with soft features, white hair and a cute mole under his left eye. He couldn’t possibly be as forward as the other guys you’d dealt with over the years. A tame, responsible choice.

You’d started texting back and forth quickly, with polite, formal introductions which progressed to cute messages and long phone calls, and you’d even managed a very chaste first date where he’d picked you up at 8pm on the dot and taken you to a fine restaurant on the water.

You normally would have expected to be dicked down that night, and had paired sexy lingerie under your silky mauve dress for exactly that, but you weren’t too surprised when he left you at your doorstep with a peck on the forehead.

The only unsettling thing about the kiss was the way his eyes had lingered on your lips, just as his fingers trailed the curve of your jaw as he tucked your hair behind your ear. It was too practiced, too… dominant.

You suspected he was holding something back.

And he was, because once you’d ventured to call in the middle of the night, a little bit tipsy and yearning for a little bit more than a smile and a gentle touch from him, you’d broken some sort of dam.

He’d called you a needy, desperate, pretty little slut, desperate for Daddy’s cock but needing to prove herself that she was willing to ride with Daddy’s very, very strict set of rules first, and you’d practically cum at the sudden turn of his voice.

Now anything was fair game.

I have… particular taste. Are you sure you can keep up, princess?

The warmth between your legs and the image of full balls and a weighty, rigid cock told you, you would absolutely be ready for anything he had in store for you.

Yes, daddy. I’m up for anything you want.

You, of course, couldn’t see the wide smile spreading across his face on the other end, as he palmed his cock slowly while reading your texts and admiring your nudes, and texted back:

We’ll need a shit ton of rope.

---

Sugawara’s hands are much larger than you’d anticipate, and rougher, and you wonder how much of it is due to high school athletics or from the fact that he’s quick to slap or spank you at any chance he gets. Your skin is sometimes red, sometimes bruised, and always marked, and it’s exactly the way you like it.

The first time you have sex, he starts you off as though you are the most shy of virgins even though you claim that you’re not exactly inexperienced.

“I wouldn’t want to break you, pretty girl,” he teases, as his hands worship your body, tracking down your waist to the center of your legs, and patting your cunt softly. Today, he’s promised to focus on your pleasure only because he wants to “break you in.” You wonder how many he’s “broken in,” then you realize you don’t really care. You’re his one and only princess right now, and you intend to be for quite a while.

The pleasure of being a good dom is that he can choose to serve - he can choose to be doting and he can choose to be harsh with punishment. Since it’s your first day since you’ve entered this contract with him, he’s decided to focus on the catering part of his personality, and familiarize you with his desires.

The rose-gold Turian collar on your neck compliments your skin well, he takes note, as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and leans you against him while you are seated on the edge of the bed and he’s kneeling just so before you, fingers deep in your cunt.

“You’re gonna keep that pretty little thing around your neck, aren’t you, pretty baby?”

His fingers move so fast that it’s hard for you to speak, and the arm that’s wrapped around your waist and keeping you flush against him is tightening the longer he continues. He’s a lot stronger than he looks, you know from every heavy spank he’s given you.

“I-I will, daddy, every day and every night,” you pant out, your tongue lolling as his fingers curve upwards and his lips leave your nipple with a soft pop and make their way to your quivering mouth.

“Good,” he whispers as he bites your lower lip. “You’re so obedient… I like that in a little one,” he affirms.

---

He’s kind when he teaches, patient even.

He’s also generous; he gifts you with your first corset, a dark, lacy and tight thing that almost takes your breath away initially, especially when he tightens it onto you himself. Even if it’s constraining, you feel empowered from the very moment you look in the mirror. Your breasts sit high, and you spin once in a gesture of delight; he kisses down your neck as you admire yourself.

“This is only to get you used to a little bit of restriction,” he reassures, as he pulls you into his lap. “But I can’t deny that you look breathtaking.”

---

Since you’ve been so bold as to take his breath away, it isn’t too long until he decides he wants to see what you look like when you’re truly struggling for air. After all, the little shiny thing around your neck catches his eye way too often for his comfort, and his pants suddenly feel too tight for a casual grocery store run.

Your safeword is red, like the blood that courses through your veins as his fingers tighten around your throat.

He thumbs your pink, puffy lips, and it would be loving if he wasn’t calling you a stupid little cocktease.

“Pretty little bambi, prancing around like you’re free to be with anyone other than me.”

The breath that tickles your face is a taunt, because you’re slowly getting lightheaded, barely able to focus on the long index finger he’s commanding you to suck.

The pressure he puts on your neck is varying; for moments you can draw a single staccato breath, which encourages him to press his lips to yours and absorb you in a kiss before he reapplies pressure; his naked body presses against yours, rolling painstakingly slow. He hasn’t even entered you yet.

Breathplay, he calls it.

You gasp as his cock slips into your wet entrance just as fast as his hand leaves your throat, and he too draws a deep breath as he fills you to the hilt.

He lets out a soft laugh as he caresses the hair that is sticking to your face, and readjusts himself yet again - of course, he’s also better endowed than you’d expect him to be - before he picks up speed and chokes you again.

---

“I… Kou-”

“Daddy,” he stresses, unphased as he continues to press a small clitoral stimulator to your tender, overworked bud.

“D-Daddy~” you cry out in a soft, drawn out whine, and you shift a little bit because the ties that keep your ankles attached to the legs of the chair, your pussy exposed and vulnerable with your crotch wide open, are starting to dig into your skin. But you can’t move all that much, there’s additional rope around your waist that keeps you against the back of the chair and you think the soft satin that keeps your wrists behind you is probably overkill, even if you have to admit you like the color.

“Yes, sweetheart~” he whispers in a voice accented with assertive sweetness, his eyes still lowered and focused on the heave of your chest as he watches you drip before him.

“I-”

You scream.

He’d angled the toy upwards, and somehow within the small bundle of nerves he’s targeted an even more precise cluster of endings - there’s a flash of white you see before you cum practically violently, lurching forward so rapidly that he has to keep the chair steady so that you won’t fall over on the pretty little face he adores.

It’s possibly the fourth time he’s had to ground you in the past hour, and it’s an act of mercy because he had been edging you repeatedly, forcing your pussy to clench desperately around nothing but air.

The way you gush and spray so lewdly onto the chair, onto the floor, onto the hand he plays on your sopping wet pussy reminds him he chose very, very well.

---

It’s nearly silent and it’s dark now, far too dark for you to see.

Your Koushi has prepared you for this next step lovingly, sometimes not so lovingly over the past couple of weeks to build up to this.

The blindfold that obscures your vision is soft and slightly sweet smelling, as though spritzed with a floral scent about a day ago prior to this. Again your hands are bound, but he’s used lined handcuffs instead of ties, and your wrists are before you, not behind you.

But you’re lying on your belly, a spreader forcing your thighs apart. He must really love the way your pussy looks staring him in the face.

“You seem to be a glutton for punishment, princess,” he says, accenting his words with a hard slap on your inner thigh. You gasp, but his hands linger tighten, and are then followed by what can only be the press of his tongue against the stinging portion.

“Daddy, I’ll behave, I’m so sorry,” you moan as his hand grips a generous portion of your asscheek.

But you won’t behave, because you’ve learned that Suga likes just a touch of bratty behavior and that gets him quite physical with you. He knows this just as much as you.

He slaps your ass fervently, the slight jiggle drawing a pleased sigh from his lips.

“You’re a silly little slut, though…” he starts, rubbing a hand along the length of your thigh, “how can I trust any of your promises?”

His finger travels to your open center, and when he sees you tense up, he stops.

“You need a firm hand to guide you always…”

His right hand curves again around your cunt and his middle and ring finger finds its way into your slippery hole, while his index taps your clit and his little finger (he’s dexterous like this), taps ever so lightly around your asshole.

You shudder.

“Arch your back, you little cumslut. Make it easy for daddy.”

As you inch backwards slowly using your elbows and knees to rise up, his right hand continues to move with you, but then his other hand lands heavily on your other asscheek.

It breaks your concentration and you almost fall because it takes quite a lot more energy than you would expect to move this way with your hands bound and your legs spread, but you persevere.

For him.

Before you can whine once you’ve gotten into position, he withdraws his hand from your cunt.

“No!” You find yourself shrieking before you realize. You can’t have him edge you again, he’s absolutely cruel, you can’t…

“Oh, I thought I called the shots here, princess,” Sugawara reminds you, voice honeyed and cruel. You can feel his fingers weave into your hair and the warm tip of what must be his cock prod at your entrance.

“Sir, please~��

“Beg.”

He spreads you open with a hand massaging your ass, again tapping teasingly all around your vagina, but he won’t push in to give you the pleasure of having his cock inside you.

Your heart is pounding with desire.

“Please!”

“Please what?”

“Please fill me up, daddy!”

That statement of desire earns you an inch, an inch that makes you swallow saliva hard and your muscles tense with need and want.

“M-more, more please!”

“You’re so demanding. I would say your eyes are bigger than your pretty little pussy, but you can’t see, can you?”

He laughs, but he pushes in further another inch, than another, moving painstakingly slow, slow enough that you’re biting your lower lip until blood is drawn. The stretch is achingly delicious but it leaves you starved for more.

You’re begging and whining, and soon you’re trying your best to sink onto him further but he’s got you restrained for a reason.

“Greedy little bitch,” he murmurs, but he kisses your neck lovingly as he fills you to the hilt.

The unmistakable noise of flesh hitting flesh and minimal friction fills the room but you care less about sound, only about the slap of his balls against your cunt as he thrusts into you from behind.

More. Deeper. Faster. Harder.

He’s a master at drawing desire out of you, you wonder if you even needed these toys and ties and other accoutrements. You’re already so utterly wrapped for him.

---

There’s a movie playing on your screen that you had both been pretending to watch, cuddled together on the couch, your legs resting across his lap. You had barely gotten through the opening credits before he pulled you onto him fully and had you straddle him.

“You want a snack, pretty baby?” He whispers, as though it weren’t just the two of you staring in each other’s eyes.

Your eyelashes bat and you nod.

He doesn’t break eye contact while he reaches for a strawberry, fresh from the farmer’s market you’d strolled through this morning, from a bowl set on the table.

This one is drizzled in chocolate, and he runs it along the length of your collarbone, eye contact still heavy and unflinching before he dips down to catch it in his mouth.

It hangs out halfway from his teeth and he cues you to take it from him mouth to mouth. You split half of it, letting the sweet tartness permeate your senses.

His arm hooks around your waist and pulls you in close as he presses his lips against yours. You weren’t aware of the glob of strawberry-flavored saliva he’d collected until he draws away, tilts your head back and tells you to open up wide so he can spit directly into your mouth.

---

“Swallow.”

Suga’s relentlessly pounding an erect, frustrated and thick cock into your mouth, past your teeth and down your poor throat, and he’s close to his release now, you can tell by the way he’s now pressed your face so far against him that his carefully cropped pubes prick your face.

He’s warning you beforehand, and you’re thankful for the warning because when he cums with a soft, almost angelic moan, his penis jerks inside your mouth ever so slightly, and there’s a gush of hot, slippery liquid that slides down your throat.

You breathe through your nose. He tastes sweet, maybe it’s because of the strawberries from just earlier today, but nevertheless it’s a pleasant liquid you gulp down around his cock.

He loves the way your throat feels when it clamps around him, especially when you initially gag once accepting his cock.

You’re perfect.

“Come up, darling,” he bids you, pulling you up from your position on your knees.

“Are you gonna fill me up, daddy?” You mewl softly as he lifts up and carries you before laying you on your back.

“Yes, pretty baby, but let me taste your juicy little cunt first,” he says before he dives in between your legs.

---

“You’re so good for me, you know that, don’t you?”

He kisses your neck softly as he holds you close to him while you lay in bed together. It’s close to 1am and he’s focused on aftercare, caressing your arms and waist and the curve of your hip gently. You’re facing away from him, not because you’re upset, but because you’re exhausted.

He’s worried you’re having a sub-drop; after all, he’s spent the last two hours slapping your face and calling you disgusting. He wonders if you forgot to use your safe word.

You’re new to this and he’s put you through a lot in the past few weeks.

“Sweetness,” he whispers, directly into your ear. “Look at me?”

You turn, cheeks still flushed from particularly hard slaps. His heart aches a bit for you, because those sweet lips are pulled downwards into a frown and he’s not sure if those are fresh tears that wet your eyelashes.

He kisses your eyelids then rests his chin on the top of your head.

“Are you doing okay, my princess?”

You nod and reach for his face with your fingertips. Your dom softens under your touch because you are so precious to him. His fingers close around yours and he kisses your forehead.

“The most important thing is your comfort,” he asserts. He taps the collar around your neck that suggests in some way that you are his and he is yours. “You can take this off at any time.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his chest. It’s been fun and it’s also been freeing to have him take care of you. There’s a soft haze that wafts around your brain lately as you surrender to him. You are in love with him, deeply, in such a short amount of time.

“I would never,” you say, finally.

His heart skips a beat.

“Unless you want to buy me a nicer one, of course.”

He chuckles.

“You’re a feisty little one, aren’t you?” He remarks. He’s glad to look down at you and see you smiling again, eyes bright and brown. He reaches for your ass cheek, then raises your leg so that it lies across his hip.

Your eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Well, that’s why you picked me to teach, isn’t it?” You raise an eyebrow, and the cheeky grin on your face is enough to make him get absolutely hard again.

Of course, only if you’re up to the task.

Suga bites gently on your lip again, his hand on your thigh.

“I didn’t expect you to learn so quickly.”

“Maybe you really do have the gift of teaching,” you reply, as you stick your tongue into his mouth.

#sugawara x reader #suga x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara smut #haikyuu smut #fic: good teacher #not sfw #commission work #mae.writing #hqintheclub

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tooruluv · 3 years ago

Text

Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ ...and then there’s you. ❞

description: you and bakugou have hated each other since childhood. through the constant bickering, fighting, and actual fist fights... you had no idea that you had been writing to him.

genre: angst, soulmate au where you have a notebook that you can write to your soulmate in

word count: 3.8k

warnings/notes: strong language, lots of angst, aged up characters, bakugou being bakugou, reader has an air manipulation quirk created as part 1 of 3 for my winner of my tooruluv2kparty contest @katsulovee <33

teaser | part 2

| masterlist

“ ‘cause when the sun goes down, someone’s talking back ” - talking to the moon, bruno mars

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The storm only escalated, casting the sky in deep blues and greys. Loud rain clattered against the roof of your apartment building, the ceiling of your top floor apartment being the only thing that separated you from the pour.

The rain may be cold, but you were on fire.

You had been livid all day, positively outraged by the man who seemed to always be in your way. He was the most arrogant, most opinionated, and most… loud-mouthed person you ever met. You were screaming from the inside out, burning with rage.

Groaning, you sprawled out on your bed.

Katsuki Bakugou was the biggest fucking issue on the planet. His absurd need to be the best at everything he did, his cold demeanor and venom that spews from his mouth -- you wanted nothing more than to punch him directly in the throat.

With a deep breath, you flipped open your Soulmate Journal.

The world was such a strange place, full of quirks and criminals and heroes and villains. To add on top of that, when you turn thirteen a journal just… appears. And whoever is your soulmate can read everything you write. Once they read it, they can reply or talk to you that way and the ink disappears. There are plenty of rules that go along with it, like if you turn thirteen before your soulmate does, the ink is red until they receive their own journal. Or how the journal itself is indestructible. Or the biggest rule: you cannot write any given name.

When you’re thirteen, your life is full of hope and wishful thinking. Almost everyone at that age is excited to start writing to their Person, the one who they were supposed to be created to be with. You were surprised when you opened yours to find nothing written.

You assumed that you were a bit older than your soulmate, but that was quickly shut down as you wrote in black ink. Your soulmate hadn’t written anything.

It took two months for him to write back. Two months of your excessive writing and nearly diary-like entries. Two months of you wondering if they would ever write back. Until he did.

Today sucked.

That was all you wrote, your past two months of writing still ever present and glaring at you with smudges and hinted annoyance. The ink started to fade like Harry talking to Tom Riddle, reappearing with new handwriting.

It was scrawled across the page with terrible handwriting, very much one of a middle school boy.

Life sucks. Deal with it.

You were now twenty two, an adult and that once hope and love has turned into pessimism and indifference. And life still sucked.

You were pretty famous, your air manipulation quirk one that catches a lot of attention. That, alongside your rivalry with the second most famous hero Bakugou, brought an abundance of recognition. Bakugou completely steals your thunder every chance he has, stealing your light and victories.

You hated him. With the utmost disrespect, you hated him. Since your days in the hero academy, the two of you were at each other’s throats. He would even stop in the middle of antagonizing Deku to make some horrendous comment towards you instead.

You ended up scribbling along the Soulmate Pages, heated rage boiling with each word.

Hey Honey! I need to vent if that’s okay.

Of course.

You would not believe the shit I have to endure in real life. I wish I could describe the hatred I have for this man I work with, he’s a real piece of shit. Anyway, how was your day?

My day was about the same as yours, living with the idiots of real life. If we could write names I would because there’s this bitch I work with that I fucking hate.

Maybe we need new jobs (insert laughing face even though I’m livid right now)

Yeah. Maybe. But we’ll get through it.

It took years for your soulmate to warm up to you. The first interactions were hesitant, slow, and barely considered conversations. But now you can discuss your day as if you were texting a friend, talk about your likes and dislikes.

He was your soulmate after all.

You learned that he was a boy and an only kid, he had a strong quirk, and that he liked ramen. He was a rule follower and his handwriting always used proper punctuation. You told him all about your life and how you wanted to travel away from everything.

You wanted to know who he was, more than anything.

You wished you could tell him your name and quirk, where you lived and who you were. You wished he could do the same.

You’ve tried, of course, to write out your name and location. But the second the words were written onto the page, they turned into a random assortment of letters. Gibberish. Never to be written, never to be known.

“Dude, fucking relax!” You rubbed your temple at your desk, voice spitting venom against Bakugou’s loud vocals. “Not everything is about you, just sit down and wait to be sent on a mission.”

“What did you say to me?”

Katsuki Bakugou had been going on and on about how Deku got assigned to a mission in upper Japan, sent to work with a separate force for a bit to expand his horizon. He was outraged, yelling and standing tall and broad to pretend to be bigger than he was.

You were doing paperwork, trying to concentrate despite his yelling and complaining and bitching. You were hovering above your seat with your legs crossed, papers scattered (it was a habit of yours, to just kind of hover a couple of inches off the surface of things; air manipulation and all that).

“I said,” You turned to look into his ablaze eyes. “Sit down and wait. Not everything is about you.”

You only threw fuel into his fire, you could hear the sparking between his fingers. You turned back to your paperwork.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not even in the top five heroes.” Bakugou barked in your direction. You could feel his heat as he approached your desk. “You can sit and do your own paperwork all you want! I need to be put on serious cases, just like stupid Deku is always placed on.”

“You can argue with me all you want.” You moved to continue your work, pretending to be unbothered. You could feel the anger boil in your chest. “But you still are and will always be measly little number two. Now shut the fuck up, you’re interrupting those who are actually working.”

He was going to hit you, you knew he was. You two ended up fist fighting all the time, oxygen and explosions ending in destruction. Before he could, your boss walked in with a bellowing, “Bakugou! Get over here, I have something for your loud ass!”

You decided to give him a bored middle finger as he walked away.

They say that words are the way of life. You could say an infinite amount of words and sentences in your lifespan, you could say a word and only ever say it one time. Each assortment of words are different each time, something new every day.

You figured that’s why you hated the soulmate thing.

Finding your soulmate should be one of chance, of pure coincidence and meeting of strangers. With the journal, you are starting something you only hope to find. You could go your whole life without finding your soulmate.

And that is terrifying.

There are horror stories of writing to an endless notebook, sad movies created where the lettering turns back to red before they’ve found each other. You wanted nothing more than to meet and just… be with the man you’ve been writing to since you were thirteen.

It seemed to be some sick joke, a tease in the palm of your hands.

When you were young, you attended UA High. It was meant to be the best school for heroes, grooming them into the best of the best. Both of your parents had been heroes themselves, your mom with a cloud quirk and your dad with wings. You took after a bit of both, no wings and no clouds but could create air currents and manipulate the air surrounding you within a certain radius. It has something to do with your breath and lungs, but you never looked too much into the actual DNA aspect.

When you arrived in the hero program, you passed the tests with ease. You tried to focus mainly on yourself and gaining your own points, alongside a couple of students with the same idea.

You were pissed when you were placed in 1-B instead of 1-A. It was the start of your rivalry with the explosion boy.

Luckily, you quickly gained friends. You actually seemed to have a soft spot for Hitoshi Shinsou, and you and Itsuka Kendou seemed to be the only two with brains (this led to many conversations resulting in shit talking and giggling). So in the end, you weren’t too upset to be placed in the second best class.

And you did get to fight with Bakugou a lot more without punishment, your professor wanting to be number one as much as anyone else.

One particular day that you remember to this day, one that really labeled your hatred for Bakuogu, was just a normal day at first. You were finished with your normal morning classes and just beginning the hero portion of the day, the training and fighting.

Your class was working with Class 1-A for the day, teaming up with one of their students and seeing how your quirks would act both against and with each other.

You were, of course, teamed with Bakugou.

The fucker was already set in his ways, loud and in need of attention at all times. You were well aware of his… loud personality… at that point, being beside Shinsou when he called your class “extras”. He was already someone you wanted nothing to do with.

“Good luck.” Kendou muttered to you when your names were announced as partners. “See ya.”

The second you headed to him, you could feel his apprehension. He wanted nothing to do with you. And you wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, you were hoping for Uraraka as your partner, wanting to see how your air manipulation would work with her gravity.

Apparently the professors wanted to see the oxygen working with the burst of flames. Which, honestly, is cool yes — but it was the person behind the explosions that you did not want to be a part of.

Bakugou was not one to mumble under his breath.

“Why am I paired with you?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “I could at least be with someone interesting like Mind Control over there.”

You already wanted to punch him. “You’ve obviously never seen my quirk.”

“Clearly it hasn’t been interesting enough to be worth my attention.”

“Say that again when I remove the oxygen straight from your lungs.” You threatened, knowing damn well you didn’t know how to do that yet. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He let out a long exhale, moving into position. You were already flying by the time he let off his first explosion.

His utter disrespect for you and your quirk not only irritated you, but only was the start of a long term competition on Who Can Be Better Than Who that lasted the rest of your time at UA.

Through the constant loud arguments, the yelling in the cafeteria and the comments just loud enough for the other to hear, the fist fights and the swearing that was reserved only for each other, you found comfort in talking to your soulmate. It was relaxing after a long day of pure annoyance and shit talking to finally just get to have normal conversations with someone you enjoy.

Are we allowed to ask about school in this thing?

I don’t think so.

I’m sighing. Pretend that you could hear my sigh.

Wow, that was a loud sigh.

YOU’RE FUNNY! Anyway, I really want to know if we go to school together :(((

I don’t even think we can talk about JRTPD or BO::SOMD. See, they turn into gibberish.

I mean… we can say school. So we can ask ABOUT school just not… specific schools.

That’s true. I go to a special school and am the best in my class. You’re getting lucky by having me as a soulmate.

Well I would only hope so. Need a smart soulmate for fun facts.

Fun fact: you’re pretty cool. I guess.

Ah, the admission of your love for me.

Not love. I don’t hate talking to you if that does anything for you.

The one person you don’t hate. I’ll take it, Soulmate.

Don’t push it.

We should give each other nicknames. Since we can’t call each other by our real names.

Does the book allow it?

My parents did it before they found each other.

Okay. Like what?

I can call you Hot Head, because you’re hot and because you are always writing about how mad you are.

No.

I can always go with something cute like Honey.

This is gross. I was thinking like gamer tag nicknames.

Okay, Honey.

I take back what I said, asshole.

Honey and Asshole. The perfect pair. We could solve crimes!

I’m going to bed now.

Goodnight Honey ♡ I know that you aren’t reading these but you will in the morning. Dork.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” You asked.

You were hanging out with Kendou, Monoma, and Shinsou in Kendou’s bedroom. The dorm rooms were all set up the exact same way, but for some reason Kendou’s always seemed to be bigger.

“No idea.” Monoma shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know until I’m older, we’re too young and I want to focus on graduating first.”

“He’s right.” Kendou twisted in her position on her bed. “Why? Do you want to know who yours is?”

“I want to know more than anything.” You sighed. Your head was laid across Shinsou’s lap on the floor. “We get along so well and I try to talk to him every day.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“He told me.” You laughed. “We tried really hard to narrow it down as much as possible.”

“It sounds like he wants to know you too.” Kendou said. She giggled. “I should ask my soulmate their gender.”

“What about you, Shinsou?”

“I barely write to mine.” He shrugged, making your head tilt a little. “I’m sure they understand.”

“I’m sure they do, they were made to be yours.” You looked up at him with a smile. “Of everyone, I thought you would write the most.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because most people are scared to talk to you in real life.”

He flicked your forehead. “You aren’t scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared to talk to anyone.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You sighed and closed your Soulmate Journal, the rain now casting a dark shadow across the entirety of the sky. Your face was flushed in red, hair disheveled and you were still in your hero uniform, dirty and kind of burnt.

Katsuki Bakugou had not only interrupted your victory, but he had claimed it as his own. His desperation to be the number one hero hadn’t stopped. It’s been years, you’ve grown past his stupid desire and he simply… hasn’t.

You fought the villain yourself, using your quirk to it’s full capabilities and trapping them in a circle of air. You fought for over an hour by yourself, taking up the mission while out and witnessing it first hand. Your freshly bought coffee was long forgotten as you raced after the thief.

The second you landed the thief, the ball of air dissipating as you grew tired, Bakugou arrived in a fiery feat and handcuffed the villain. Of course, the main photos were of him with the handcuffs, standing proud as if he hadn’t stolen your fight.

His argument was that he did help. Yeah, he did ‒ for three seconds.

Katsuki Bakugou was a piss stain upon himself, truly the worst of the worst who’s own personal interest outweighs anything else in his life. He will never be anything but second best because he never thinks of anyone but himself.

If only he could read thoughts instead of turning his sweat to ignition. Then you wouldn’t have to put your harsh thoughts into tone.

Your Soulmate was one of two people you genuinely enjoyed talking to, he always seemed to be on the same page as you. The other is Shinsou, from your high school. He was the only one you really kept in contact with.

Sometimes you like to convince yourself that Shinsou is your soulmate, since he hasn’t found his either. But you compared the handwriting and it didn’t match at all. Shinsou’s handwriting was much smaller and neater than the man you would eventually call yours.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You screamed, your rage reaching its max.

You threw your journal across your bedroom, the storm masking the sound of it banging against the wall by your bed. You were pissed, you wanted nothing more than to see Bakugou’s downfall. It’s been years. You were over it.

You were over it all. You were over him, you were over not knowing your soulmate, you were over being alone in your stupid apartment. It all reached it’s apex. Maybe you needed a shower, or maybe you needed to move from your job.

Your fit was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of your apartment building. You nearly jumped at the sound, the sound not even close to the crashes of thunder.

You rushed to the roof, your hero senses kicking in more than your regular carefulness. Once you were outside, you were almost instantly drenched in the rain. Only a couple of yards ahead of you was a man crumbled to the ground; they must’ve hit the roof harder than you thought.

When they turned, clutching their side, you knew instantly who it was.

“Deku?” You rushed towards him. “I thought you were in Hirosaki for some serious villain.”

He moved to stand, much taller and broad than he was back in high school. Yet still with the fluffy green hair and bright eyes with hope always seemingly sewed in.

“I was. I just… I need your help.”

“Why do you need my help?” You helped him stand fully, taking his hand from his side to check for an injury. He wasn’t bleeding. “Doesn’t Uraraka live around here?”

“I don’t… want to involve her in this.” He stood straight. His healing must’ve started. “I… this is something I need you for.”

“Okay…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Deku started, and you didn’t move. “But it’s Bakugou.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Aero, I know that you two…”

“No.”

“Please, I…”

“Deku, you know more than anyone how and who he is. Whatever it is, he can deal with it himself.” You started back towards the stairs. “I appreciate you coming to me, for whatever reason, but this is something that you have to find someone else for.”

“Don’t think of this as us doing something for him.” Deku rushed to stand in front of you. “Think of it as a favor for me. You owe me one.”

“Don’t do this now.”

“I’m officially cashing in my favor.”

You sighed, “Fine. Can you at least tell me what we need to do for the asshole?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” He nearly jumped in joy. “But you cannot tell anyone. Not Shinsou, not the police, and not our boss. This is under the radar.”

“Oh, shit.” You followed him as you flew next to him. “What are you getting me into?”

tag list: @katsulovee @paradisebabey @seaofemptygold @zhaixiaowen @daylghits @haikyuusimp91 @darknessyournewfriend @samwise-though @liaxxx109

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audiblehush · 7 months ago

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First off, I want to apologize for how long it took me to respond to this. Work and grad school got busy quickly and I had some fires to put out.

Secondly, that I did see your post (and didn’t even disagree with all of it), but I also saw lots of comments on Reddit and other fandom-y spaces discussing the Debling triangle, so my post was more of a general airing of me working through my own thoughts. I apologize if it came off as vague posting or aggressive toward you in particular; that wasn’t my intention at all.

Thirdly, my frustration with the potential “love triangle” has increased with TWO whole ass promotional pieces (video and stills) of Debling instead of Colin… the actual Bridgerton the show is supposedly supposed to follow. AND I know we’re probably going to get promos of other characters before we get to Colin and I’m just like… what the FUCK? So I’m feeling significantly saltier then I was the other day.

I’m going to try and address your points mostly in order, though I may jump around a little for my brain to cope with how tired it is, as well with how its linking some of these narrative or fandom threads - sorry in advance if it’s confusing. It’s going to be so long, I’m sorry…

To your point of other Penelope pairings: I’m really used to multi shipping in various fandoms, regardless of things being canon (because fandom is a fun sandbox to play in), but yeah the problem is tagging those other ships as containing Polin - its a big yikes. But on the other hand, and maybe I’m just old in fandom years (mid 30s), but I suppose I’m just numb to a lot of poor fandom etiquette (despite the fact that AO3 has an incredible tagging system compared to those of us who had to survive the FF.net dark days). It’s shouldn’t be an an excuse, they need to be better, but I often just don’t have the time or emotional real estate to push back with it, so I just roll my eyes and scroll past and continue to be irritated by it. Maybe that’s sad that I have just accepted that people across all fandoms are trash at tagging, idk… but I rarely have the energy to do more than just scroll by. A downvote if I’m on reddit lol.

I find that I have to identify the multiple groups surrounding this show and how the writers have to deal with it: what different portions of fandom wants (Polin or otherwise), what general audiences want, and what is thematically and narratively cohesive and well-developed. Sometimes there is overlap between those different groups… but not often. Good writing should be the priority, but I feel like marketing and popularity contests have taken over at the expense of strong, well-structure and well-developed narratives.

So many people lack any sort of media literacy surrounding analysis; I’m a high school English teacher and I unfortunately am fighting the battle first hand to get teenagers to think even remotely critically about both media and the world they live in. I have certainly seen the general population and large potions of the Polin fandom unfortunately calling for the ‘punishment’ of Colin and I also find it incredibly exhausting and unfair… considering the reason they prooooobably do is because the show has barely given him any screen time. And so much of the fanbase grasps at the low hanging fruit when it comes to this show; it’s frustrating to feel like I’m watching an entirely different show than other people.

My intention was never to imply that Colin is getting enough screen time or development. He’s NOT, and that’s why a huge chunk of the general fanbase reacts negatively toward him; they refuse to even TRY and empathize with him in S1 and S2 despite everything he’s been through because it requires analyzing closely what few scenes we’re given. He has been barely touched on in the writing, and people don’t view him as a fully realized, complex character in his own right as a result. He has been deceived by two women in his life (one he doesn't know about yet...) and the narrative gave him a total of TWO scenes to grapple with his sadness. It's a disservice to his character and yes, it's unfairly coloring the way the fandom views him. (I also desperately need Penelope to be the one to willingly choose to tell him about LW in order juxtapose S1... but that is a post for another day...)

I just HAVE to hope that S3 will give us the development of Colin we need that they’ve alluded to: his burgeoning friendship with Will (please let him have real friends, omg), his relationship with his family (who are neglecting him at best and making him feel like a burden at worst), his search for purpose, his writing that he doesn’t even feel comfortable telling people about. It would be ASININE for them to do nothing with him; they've laid a decent enough stage to do some exploring, but I do have concerns it will be difficult in only 8 episodes. I don’t mind a pining Colin (which I do view as different thing than being jealous, for the record), but I don’t want his ENTIRE personality built around Pen when there is still so much of him to uncover. It's awful that Colin fans don't feel like he's seen in his own damn pairing.

However, my post was intending to address where Penelope is at the end of S2 and start of S3 and why her genuinely putting herself out on the marriage mart makes sense for where we leave her character. She heard Colin air out (at that point a likely accurate summation of) his feelings publicly and is like “Okay, I’ve had my head in the sand long enough. I heard him loud and clear, time to stop with my girl crush and move on.” Yes, she ghosts Colin, but she’s sort of at rock bottom at the end of S2 and I wouldn’t be surprised if she leans into making some poor-ass choices at the beginning of S3 to cope with what she feels she has left (likely LW and her focus on the marriage mart). I’m hoping that when Colin apologizes to her for his words, that she apologizes to him for ignoring him and not communicating her hurt… to say nothing of the LW confrontation that has to happen, obviously.

I completely agree that Penelope ultimately needs to realize that outside validation isn’t what she needs; I’ve also been there. But that is also often a long, drawn out process that usually has catalysts that help someone come to that realization through either direct conversation or circumstance. As you point out, Pen has multiple elements to her arc with different characters… all the ones you listed, and a new one this season with Lady Danbury (and I can’t tell you how excited I am for that relationship). Our world views are often shaped, or better or worse, by the kaleidoscope of people who come in and out of our lives… I guess I just don’t personally see Debling being a small part of that as a big deal, just like Marina being a part of Colin’s is just a sliver of his story, as well.

I wrote about this in a different post actually, but I don’t think narrative parallels have to be perfect mirrors in order to still be parallels, and I think Colin and Penelope’s stories mirror one another a LOT throughout S1 and S2, and not just the courting. They are often fun house mirror versions of parallels, but they ARE similar, and I don’t know that it’s an accident.

Regardless of the reason behind why both Colin and Penelope are courting / being courted by other people, its a choice that the writers, for better or worse, have made. I have only been in the Bridgerton fandom for maybe half a year, so I (thankfully) missed all this terrible stuff I saw about Ruby Barker from both racists and people who have issues distinguishing reality from fiction and hound people online. I also don’t know how even Colin’s biggest champion’s felt about that plot line initially, as it obviously not from the books. But as a relative newcomer who has mostly lurked, from the discourse I’VE seen around Marina (which is admittedly likely limited) is heavily influenced by how part of the fandom harassed and abused her actress (which is literally so horrific considering what’s going on with her right now :( ), rather than the actual character and her function in the narrative.

I don’t really care about Debling at all; he’s literally just some guy who, if IMDB is to be trusted, is only around for like, 3 episodes. But I guess I’m just confused that the anti-Debling crowd is furious at his inclusion at all because it hurts Polin’s love story…but will then defend Colin’s courtship / engagement with Marina because… she was pregnant and the show decided to elevate her brief book mention? To show Colin’s drifting and search for a purpose and to be needed by someone? Those are certainly reasons… just like Penelope has narrative / character driven reasons to be genuinely trying at the marriage mart, whether she is successful, fails, or removes herself from it. The fandom has treated (and sometimes continues to treat) Marina incredibly unfairly, (so much that the fic I’m drafting right now has a pretty massive Pen/Marina reconciliation in it because the fandom's lack of acknowledging nuance is killing me… if I can ever finish it), but to me, the Marina/Debling thing seems a bit of a double standard from a narrative perspective.

If I’m going to be stuck watching this “love” triangle, I ALSO want Penelope to say no if he proposes; in fact, I don’t want the courtship to even get that far, as I want her to see a man who is likely perfectly pleasant who could give her a comfortable life, and maybe even love her and for her to be like “…wow, I feel absolutely NOTHING for you. Sorry, you seem okay, thanks for playing, but I don’t want to shackle myself to someone for life for mere comfort.” …and then yes, bang it out with Colin once they’ve worked through their shit hahaha. One of my big fears about this whole plot line is that I desperately don’t want Colin to suddenly realize his romantic feelings for Penelope because some other guy noticed her first so magically his romantic lightbulb goes off… I would literally never forgive the writers. I'm already struggled with having had to watch the S1 engagement and deal with Colin nearly having ended up with someone who is not Pen. And personally I WOULD prefer that Colin acknowledge that what he felt for Marina wasn't love... because if we are going to be all in for Pen's love for Colin and refuse to let her entertain anyone else... then I think it should go both ways... though we can def. do that without vilifying Marina. I LIKE that in the book that Colin and Penelople both only really had heart eyes for each other, and I'm annoyed the show has tampered with that. They can salvage it, but it will take some masterful strokes for them to be successful.

But I will say that I DO think that there are loads of ways the writers could approach this “triangle” since they’ve insisted on including it. I will ALWAYS want her to say no, but there are other narrative dangling threads that could complicate things that I try to take into account when I’m looking at a whole story. For example, I actually don’t know that Pen’s financial situation is THAT secure?? She’s only been doing LW for what, three years? As opposed to the decade or more in the book… she would not have nearly enough money to survive on her own, and I’m also pretty fuzzy on the Featherington finances at the end of S2 which would support her and her mother otherwise. They obviously still have debt, but didn’t Portia keep the funds, or am I misremembering? Idk, I need to rewatch S2… Aspects like that could influence some of the choices Pen could make (aside from potentially being forced to hold the idiot ball… I am NERVOUS when Nic said that Pen makes ‘some choices’ in this season… sigh).

The writers are not always successful at balancing all these plot lines, but I try to keep an open mind…I am an optimistic person by nature when it comes to my media as a) if I wasn’t it would suck literally all enjoyment out of the fandom experience for me (…and I would not be able to survive the rest of this school year with nothing to look forward to, good god) and b) fanfic does a lot of heavy lifting for me personally in terms of exploring badly executed plot lines… fix it fic, basically. Thought sometimes I feel like I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel...

But yeah, not developing Colin will be unforgivable for me because this is HIS season as much as it is Penelope’s (if not more, because he’s the Bridgerton). They cannot truly choose each other if one half of the pairing is basically just only there to have sex with someone; it is their emotional dynamic and rich inner lives that make them interesting to me and compatible with EACH OTHER… and if we get robbed of that, I’ll riot.

But we won’t know until it airs, and I have to hope they’re just trying to keep his story a secret as long as possible and they’re going for the low hanging fruit now... god knows that's what the average paying customers want, ugh.

At this point I’m just taking it a day at a time and working on meta I may never post and a big wish list of what I need S3 to do to make me feel like these characters have gone on a journey that feels earned, both individually and romantically as a couple. I know they won’t do it all, I’m not THAT naive, but a girl can dream...

But for now, I just want my goddamn Colin promo. When they finally air some, it better knock my fucking socks off. Like, I better have heart eyes IMMEDIATELY.

This is literally so fucking long, I'm so sorry. But I’ll end with a potential chuckle: I had two of my eleventh grade girls burst into my classroom today absolutely LIVID about today’s promo: “Where is COLIN? If it’s not Colin I DON’T WANT IT.” And I was like “same girls, same.”

Thank you for politely engaging with me; I love this pairing and have wanted to discuss it with people but so much of the tumblr fandom in particular seems really aggressive that it’s made me a bit gun-shy to post anything. So thanks for responding!

( @dollypopup I just realized I have no idea if tumblr notifies of replies to reblogs because I’m hardly on here… feel free to ignore this haha. )

Listen, Polin has been my Roman Empire for months now, but this fandom is WILDIN’.

Chunks of this fandom who claim to be Polin fans seem to hate either Colin or Penelope and I’m just like… why are you here, then, if you refuse to empathize or even TRY to understand either critical half of the pairing?

“Colin can’t see what’s in front of him and he insulted her in front of his peers!! GROVEL; I hope Pen moves onto Debling!!!”

First of all, you’re not a Polin fan if you hate Colin so much you want her to move on to someone else. Second of all: yeah, no. Yes,Colin put his foot in his mouth, arguably in a big way because of status, but plenty of people in real life have experienced saying something that came off poorly to a group of people. Everything we know about Colin’s character tells us he is going to feel horrible about it; he’ll apologize, MEAN IT, and she’ll forgive him. She has her own apologies to make.

Believe it or, it is NORMAL for people to grow into romantic feelings slowly. Stop punishing Colin for discovering who he is by experiencing his own character arc with his own mistakes. He’s allowed to have flaws; he’s allowed to work through his insecurities!

Tbh, most of the criticisms I see of Colin are pretty surface-level and petty, so I don’t give them much real estate in my brain because they’re just… bad, lol.

On the flip side -

“Penelope feels entitled to Colin’s feelings; she’s selfish and the fucking worst!!”

S3 Penelope: *overhears Colin say he would never court her; BELIEVES him - decides she’s going to stop wasting her time, move on, and look for a serious suitor and marriage prospect a) as is expected of her in this era and b) so that she has security, especially considering her family’s dire financial straits.*

“Oh my GOD, this is so anti-Polin, how could she POSSIBLY even THINK about accepting a proposal from anyone but Colin?! GTFO”

SIGH, 1) we have NO IDEA how this plot line is going to pan out: Lord Debling may or may not be serious about her, we don’t know what that even looks like, or for how long. The show synopsis historically likes to play with the fandom expectations a lot. He may possibly propose… and if he does, it would clearly exist as a sort of parallel to S1…. but 2) GOD FORBID Penelope entertain the idea, despite very real fears and evidence that would lead her thinking it would likely be her ONLY proposal… or that even if Colin proposed post heavy-petting session, how on EARTH could she think that he would be doing it out of honor-bound obligation and not love. 🙄 Her potentially considering a proposal isn’t anti-Polin; it’s a realistic response and consideration to two (and likely an additional half) seasons worth of external and internal stressors that are tying into her character development.

Penelope’s heart is fragile for a multitude of reasons due to her home life, her prior experiences with Colin and Eloise AND the rest of the ton - it’s incredibly frustrating for people to ignore why she would potentially not believe Colin even if he DID confess / give her a marriage proposal, just like it’s frustrating when people don’t try to understand why Colin might struggle with his own feelings.

Some of y’all really don’t understand people like Penelope who have been told their entire lives that they are not enough, are terrified of putting themselves out there by being emotionally vulnerable and potentially rejected for the fundamental aspects of who they are… even though some of y’all claim to identify with Colin when he has his OWN STRUGGLES WITH SOME OF THESE SAME FEARS. And it’s almost worse because Pen is painfully SHY: You don’t just magically become confident one day because you decided to be; it is a constant battle against negativity that eventually becomes heavily internalized… it takes years of work unlearn those thought patterns, especially when you’re surrounded by people insulting and rejecting your to your face (her family) or behind your back (the way the ton talks about her family… it’s likely Pen heard gossip about herself, whether individually or as an extension of her family PLENTY)… with an added dose of also being ignored when not actively insulted.

It would not shock me at ALL if Penelope genuinely considers a Debling proposal. All of Colin’s actions in S1 and S2 have ultimately taught her that he is never going to return her feelings; she is likely going to be pretty oblivious to his own romantic realizations this season because why would she look for or entertain those hopes again? Some of y’all complain that she is selfish about Colin’s romantic feelings (which lol, I disagree strongly, but sure hypothetically, I’ll allow it) … so then when she tries to move on by listening to him and his actions she’s suddenly… punishing him and undeserving of him?? When she would have every reason to be skeptical of these feelings coming from seemingly nowhere when he starts of the season trying to find her a husband? NAH fam, she’s doing what anyone with any sense of emotional self-preservation would do: move on and try to be content, even if she knows she’ll always love Colin in her heart.

AND even if Penelope develops potentially fond feelings for Debling… do you really think it’s unrealistic for a 19 year old young woman who has done nothing but pine over a man who is oblivious to it (or worse, finds a romantic relationship with you laughable… in her eyes), who has not had ANYONE be romantically interested her… to maybe get a little fluttery around someone who is reasonably nice looking and shows her genuine interest right off the bat? Spoiler Alert: that is probably exactly what would happen because it’s a heady feeling!!!

This entire plotline is either a parallel to the Marina situation, or a reference to the book line that basically has Colin going “Oh shit, what if I had never realized Pen is the love of my life?? What if someone else had seen how amazing she was and snatched her up??” - Maybe it’s even both! Deep breath: it’s a just plot device for Polin to realize they’re made for each other.

Colin and Pen are going to be on their own journeys this season that fly in the face of what the other is going through. Colin is grappling with newfound romantic feelings for Penelope (while likely struggling to trust them because he thought he loved Marina but lol no he didn’t, so how is he supposed to know???) while also battling against former (and potentially current) impulsive actions… and Penelope is fighting for her LIFE trying to bury her feelings and move on because she’s trying to protect her heart because Colin literally said out loud he’d never want her AND she’s likely thinking of her security. They are both grappling with internal conflicts that oppose the other and THAT is what is going to make the tension and development so good… and that’s without even addressing all the LW stuff that needs to get worked through!

I need y’all to flex that empathy muscle a little and realize that this isn’t about fucking fan-service, or you projecting your own experiences onto these characters (or even the weird self-insert “I am/want to be this character” or “I want to fuck this character”) - you can relate to these characters but ultimately it’s about the STORY - it’s about exploring these characters realistically in how they would react to their own traumas and lived experiences, and how what they think they want/need comes into conflicts with their counterparts.

This is a romantic DRAMA, and these characters are going to have their ups and downs… and it’s a Shondaland drama for better or worse, so you KNOW it’s going to get messy (good lord just look at S2 and how far that “love” triangle went… I’m hopeful for the new show runner because she’s a fan).

Polin will be canon because they unreservedly CHOOSE the other and it will be glorious, so everybody chill the fuck out and stop shitting on my imperfect, emotionally fragile yet beautifully relatable, evolving lovers. They are the BEST fucking ship, but most of this fandom doesn’t deserve them tbh. They’re both messes in their own ways, and honestly? If they were real, neither Colin nor Penelope would tolerate this slander y’all are throwing at the other.

LEAVE COLIN AND PENELOPE ALONE AND LET THEM MUDDLE THEIR WAY TO TRUE LOVE. 🤬

#polin #bridgerton

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jadelynlace · 3 years ago

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Ink Drinker / Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader], Chapter 6

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

***content warning [PLEASE READ]: this chapter has the after effect of the trauma call, and too many emotions. surgical mentions and medical terminology are in this chapter as well. anything in italics indicates a flash back.

author’s note: I’m so sorry.

“Floki, why can I be left alone?” Ivar asked.

“Because the last time you were left alone you ended up with fifty thousand milligrams of pain killers in your stomach. Now, come here—do you know this?” Floki replied with his fingers taping the photo copied image.

“I drew that.” Ivar said back.

“Yes, you did. Where do you want it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You hate your body so much why don’t you cover it in something you like?”

It is sixteen hours that Ivar is in surgery. His world is dark, nothing but, with pierces of noises that he can recall. But trying to decipher them only makes the surroundings dull, caked in black and muffled with a buzz of an unruly bee hive. There are pokes of pain, he remembers the green light, and he remembers the pot hole he swerved to miss. He doesn’t remember how fast he was driving and the second he was over the yellow line made no difference for the sudden beast of a truck to find him.

Everything below Ivar’s powdered knee caps are reattached. Grueling hours on the table while he’s sewed back together like a monster. Enough time for Hvitserk to get clothes, to get you clothes, to pack a bag for his brother per your request. Even in the presence of clean laundry you can’t take your blues off yet—they’re holding you proper because you just saw Ivar that morning. You two made love in the low morning light, filled with ecstasy, his seed and then he made you eggs with extra hot sauce and hugged you tightly you were sure you stopped breathing. He told you to be safe, baby, like he did at the dawn of each shift and that he would call you when his last appointment was finished, and on his way back from shopping for supplies for the parlor and that you two would make lunch plans. In his speed, his haste to make sure he didn’t miss you before the two tone song of death would sing in the radios, he instead, became the reason it did.

Your chief shows up when you tell him the nature of the emergency. Pulling additional personnel on for overtime and they take the rig out of service and from your hands. Words don’t spare any differences and although he offers you a hug, when you take it he slips you a piece of paper.

“Remember the job you’re doing. And the change you’re making.” He whispers in your ear and you look at the folded sheet. It’s a photocopy of a poorly drawn fire truck with an even worse sketched stick figure, and you had scribbled it when you were five. Back when you met chief for the first time because now you hold the same badge number your father once did.

“If I give you your Dad’s old badge number, are you going to act like a jack ass like him?”

“I can’t make any promises chief.”

“I have a partner in mind for you, you’ll like him. He’s a good kid. A good medic.”

“This good kid got a name?”

“Yeah, Hvitserk. I’ll introduce the two of you.”

This is the call that shapes you as a medic, as a provider, and changes how you see things. This is the call that sends a new person out into the street, whether Ivar lives or not. This is the call that forever holds terror in your heart because he was laying in the back of your ambulance, and that was the one spot you never wanted him to occupy.

Aslaug walks through the doors and she’s already two tissues deep into a soggy mess. Hugging Hvitserk and hugging you and you wish you were meeting this woman for the first time under any other circumstance. Floki thanks you and you don’t quite know why, even though the words fall heavily and un-calming, he still thanks you. And when the surgeon returns before the four of you, you’re the only one that doesn’t stand. But he calls your name because you know him, he was lab staff that tested you for your certifications and he told you that you’ll make a damn good medic one day.

“Remember what I said on the day of your exam?” He asks and you nod, puzzled and impatient looks on the other faces. “You are a damn good medic—you both are.” He adds, eyes jumping from yours to your partners. “And it shows on this call, of all of them.” Hvitserk’s shoulder nudges you and you only nudge him back, perhaps little too hard in your delirious state. “Essentially what we did, was replant the lower portion of each leg. Now, given the extent of his injuries and how his body handles such, I don’t have a clear cut answer for you on his overall mobility. He may need to have screws implanted, he may need prosthetics. He’s going to be in the ICU for the next 48 hours for constant monitoring. We’ll have him sedated so his body can focus on what’s at stake. He’ll need physical therapy for a long time, and he’ll likely be disabled for the rest of his life, given again, how his body handles this. It’ll be a long road. But, like I said—you two are damn good medics and that is the one reason his legs were able to be saved. I will let you know when he’s moved to the ICU.”

You look back at your partner and his face is as blank as yours; influx of emotions just ready to dive from the void but your minds are still churning, still processing all of what boomed from the doctor’s mouth. Ivar’s chance at returning to a normal life was resting in your hands and you two gave the best damn efforts and they worked. The countless hours of dissection, wondering if you’re cut out for this career, these responsibilities, hours of trauma and blood and vomit all fizzle away because you now know that you are. And it just took Ivar to prove it.

When your eyes open again there’s a sharp pierce in your temple, scrunching eyes together and slowly moving, your head rises from Floki’s shoulder and the lights in the ICU have dimmed in the late hour. Impressions stood between his nostrils, falling like petals over his cheekbones, bleeding through split brows and pink flowers through the depths of his neck. His chest sinking and fainting with time, there was a moment of deafening silence when you are looking at his body; seemingly so small under the contraptions. The depths of earth, and the worst hell was seeing him lay on this cot. He’s only sedated now, even though Ivar looked of death, he was still alive under the harvest of wires. The words of how “we’re doing all that we can” do not bring any more comfort, they just take Ivar like a wave rapidly back out to sea. And now you understand how your patients, and their families feel when you speak the same phrases to them. The clinical assessments do not stop a rigorous schedule, motoring for the possible failure. The room is kept warm, and every so often when you will yourself to peek in, you can see the sheen of sweat that’s over Ivar’s forehead, dancing across his chest under the stickers, the monitors. The capillary refill on his toes show promise, and when the nurse says that to her doctor, you find yourself attempting the same motions on your thumb nail. Pressing the pink away and making room for the white, and then in a quick release, the pink swarms back. The ultra sound machines reminds you of the new equipment in your rig as it assess arterial blood flow every hour.

IV bags drip, slow and agonize and the change of wrappings, dressings and cleaning of both the limbs and Ivar himself collect. You spend hours watching the fluid levels sink, his eyes flutter, his fingers in his hand dance and you grow cold because you just want to hold him. To lock him in a steel tower and to constantly remind him how strong he is, because you know the longest road will not come from learning to walk. It will come from Ivar trying to find that he is worthy to live on.

Blackness had retired across your cheeks, wrapping a veil of makeup that melted into battle scars and you could not move if your body depended on it. Aslaug sits next to you; she takes her time wiping the makeup off from under your eyes, the soiled mascara and she’s humming to you. She had been telling you how when Ivar was young, she would sing to him and it would calm him down. How she sang to him in the hospital after he tried to overdose, tubes pumping his stomach as she blamed herself for such wrong doing. How Hvitserk blamed himself because he gave no one a warning cry. And how she’s singing to Ivar now, even though he can’t hear it, because it comforts the three of you as a whole.

When your eyes follow the nurse into the room, you can hear her say something to Ivar and you watch his head turn in confusion. Grogginess and a fog on his brain as she talks to him like it’s a normal conversation; wishing him a good morning, how the weather looks promising for a beautiful day and you wish you had that level of bed side manner. You never get the promising parts of the journey; you get the patients that are coding and in a rush to the life saving team in the hospital. You love the ones who tell you their entire live’s story in the back of the rig on the way to the emergency room, sharing details and calming your mind with how simple, and yet how different every walk of life is. The nurse says something about you, about Hvitserk and Aslaug and Floki, out and waiting and ready to see him when he’s fit. You wave through the glass and there’s the tease of a smirk on Ivar’s face, even in his slightly sedated state. A dastardly, bastard smirk and his hand lifts off the bed slightly, wiggling his fingers back to you. The tears start up again, pounding a sledge hammer through your skull after all of the unruly pressure and messes of crying as your body tries to go numb.

“Where’s my mom?” You hear Ivar say in a voice that muted slightly as the nurse stands in the door way to exit. “Can I see my mom?” And the nurse nods. Aslaug stands and kisses your hair line as she walks into the vicinity, Ivar watching her and you need to back up, you need to walk away from the room, this hall way and this battle. A faint wheeze goes through your chest and Floki catches it first before Hvitserk has a chance to lift his head and open his eyes.

“Let’s walk, dear,” Floki says and his voice is not authoritative but it still demands you to comply as he loops an arm around your shoulder. “Walking can help to clear the mind.” It’s your first time outside in almost three days, and the sunlight burns you like you had been its victim on a sand covered shoreline for one too many hours. The hospital grounds are manicured, they’re neat and arranged with an abundance of flowers and colors in the open air but everything to you still feels so dull and lifeless, pointless and hopeless and walking only churns your thoughts to double, triple in size like a snow ball rolling down a hill.

You’re finally allowed in to see Ivar and you approach slowly, like touching him will seer you suddenly, stain you with a unremovable pattern and you’ll forever be reminded. His blue eyes are dull and groggy when they open, the nasal cannula wrapping his face and your eyes dance over the scurf collecting on his jaw, and the faint bruising, cuts and scrapes on his skin.

“Hey baby,” His voice rasps and you kneel by the bed, tears already on their journeys to streak your tried skin and Ivar’s needle poked, IV covered arm comes to wipe what he can reach. “You were there, weren’t you?” And you can only nod, eyes still damp and you relish in the touch he gives you only if it’s for a second. “You saved my life, baby,” Ivar finally adds and that makes the whimper start again, the choke of a sob in your throat and he tries to quiet you, slithering a quick noise from his lips and you rest your head against the bed, his hand still on your hair.

“I drove the ambulance over a hundred miles an hour,” You finally say and they’re the first words you can use to process the trauma you two had lived through together.

“That’s my girl,” Ivar smiles, speaking with a voice that sounds like sandpaper.

“I love you Ivar—no matter what happens, I love you so much,”

“I love you too, Y/N,” Ivar says and his voice is weaker now and he needs rest. “Kiss me before you go?” He says with eyes scanning your face, and you can’t deny that now. Pressing your lips softly against his, your hands cupping his cheek and you hope it’s not the last kiss you’ll ever get from him. “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” Ivar tells you. “I’m afraid. But I’m not going anywhere,” You nod as he speaks, a forehead against his for a second and his hand is still trying to reach on you where he can. This is the man that would pull the tubes and the wires from his chest if he could, if that would make him get closer to you. “You’re stuck with me,” And there’s a faint snicker after his words, weak and drowned out from the normal tone but you’ll take it after not hearing his voice for three days.

“I’m stuck with you,” You say back with a small smile. But it still doesn’t bring enough hope.

Ink Drinker Tags:

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full masterlist can be found here.

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backwardscapsmh · 3 years ago

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i did not plan on writing today but sometimes you just hear something and go “i could make a fic about this” and since my go-to is angsty pining with no dialogue, y’all can have this. it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written anything and i’m sorry but life is lowkey kicking my ass rn. but enjoy! likes and reblogs are appreciated!

“do you wanna be friends?” // i mean i wanna be more // but if friends is how i get to have you // then sure // i’ll be quiet in my pining // i won’t tell you about the pain

- do you wanna be friends? by leanna firestone

They’re friends now. After their frog year and a tumultuous sophomore year, they’re friends. It’s nice, Dex has to admit.

It may have taken him a while to realize why exactly he made Nursey so mad at him in the beginning, and he’s still trying to do better. It also took the entirety of the team sitting them down after practice one day and having them work it out, but they got there eventually.

But it’s nice.

Nice to do homework together in their room, taking solace in the keyboard clicks and scratch of highlighters on paper. Nice to have Frogs movie night with Chowder and not start the next Cold War over a movie disagreement which would eventually blow up into a nuclear war zone.

So yeah, in Dex’s opinion, it’s nice. It’s nice to be Nursey’s friend. It’s certainly an improvement from what they used to be: fighting and yelling and barbed words and the destructive kind of fire.

And that fire’s still there, but it’s calmed significantly. It’s no longer burns so hot that skin gets charged. It’s a pleasant flickering flame of the scented candles that someone buys for the Haus (but they still don’t know who). They still throw chirps at each other, but none of them dig into muscle and cling there anymore. There’s yelling of the comradery kind and fighting of the old-married variety.

It’s like they used to be, but more friendly. Softer, somehow. But Dex isn’t completely used to this new softness.

Being friends with Nursey means seeing him light up when he bursts through the door with an edition of some poetry book he was looking for and found it at the used bookstore near Samwell. Being friends means seeing him sleepy and soft when he’s brushing his teeth and walking around the room, slowly but surely getting ready for bed. Being friends means casual hugs and back pats and nudges and falling asleep on together on the bus and sitting close on the couch for team bonding night and…

Well the point is, being friends with Nursey is slowly killing him. Because Nursey is his friend now, so he’s nice to Dex: grabs coffee for him sometimes, let’s him rant about the guy in his comp sci class who is an absolute tool. Things like that.

And as previously stated, Dex isn’t used to nice. Especially not from Nursey.

So the anger that burned in his stomach when he sees Nursey’s green eyes connect with his own has simmered into butterflies. Yeah, the slightly “more that friends” kind.

But they just got to the actually being friends portion of their lives, so Dex refuses to ruin the good thing they have with his stupid pining. It would probably make things worse than they were before anyway, so he’ll just keep his feelings to himself.

He’s pretty good at doing that anyway.

#it’s kind of short but eh #i vibe with it #nurseydex #nurseydex brainrot #my writing #omgcp #nursey #dex

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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years ago

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HarryWeen: Home Edition

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

This One Too

A/N: Spooky szn has come to an end...but it’s going out with a bang. This bitch right here is hot as fuck and y’all have been waiting for this one. My 🐱is quaking and yours will be too once you’re done reading it...hopefully😭. Enjoy🙃

4.1k wordsss

The day you’d been anticipating for the past month and a half was here. It was finally Halloween! Since you two and everyone else in the world were living in the midst of a pandemic, you made sure to put forth the effort to really enjoy this Halloween to the fullest. Harry’s “Harryween” show was canceled because of it, and you couldn’t go out to Halloween parties because it wasn’t safe at all. So with all of that in mind, there was only one option left; the two of you could have your own little party at home. Which is exactly what you were planning on doing. And since you and Harry loved role playing, it was kind of a given that you two would go out for this holiday in particular. Mainly you though. You started preparing and planning in the middle of September. You went down you guys’ role play list and you scoured the internet until you found the perfect idea for yours and Harry’s costumes. When you started searching for costumes for yourself, hoping that you’d find some type of inspiration, you stumbled across the perfect red riding hood outfit. So naturally, you were already planning for you to take over the red riding hood role, and for Harry to take over being the big bad wolf. And once you figured that out, the entire process of picking and choosing things for your costumes went smoothly. Once you placed your orders, all you had to do then was wait in anticipation.

Fast forward to today and you were finally going to put on your costume that you only took a quick peek at when they arrived in the mail and get Halloween started. Now you decided to give Harry a bit of a surprise and not tell him what you had planned for costumes. All you told him was that he was going to love it and to just put on whatever you laid out for him. While you did the absolute most with your red riding hood get up, you didn’t do so much for Harry’s werewolf costume. You didn’t want it to be crazy extra or over the top, that was your job. You just wanted him to be hot. And since he already had that down, you pretty much picked what he was wearing from his closet except for little more specific things. You on the other hand were going all in with your costume. You thought of just about everything when making your purchases. For starters, you found the most perfect red riding hood costume out there. The red, white, and black dress hit right above the middle of your thighs and it rose even higher in the back which was perfect. The dress itself had everything you wanted and was amazingly detailed. The entire dress was satin with a very low and frilly top half, a corset in the middle with a monochrome floral pattern lining the sides to cinch your waist a bit, and the skirt portion had a little bit of a layered effect which allowed for there to be a sea of ruffles underneath to help billow the skirt out a bit and add a touch of innocence to the not so innocent look. To make this look even better, you threw in a couple more items. You couldn’t be little red riding hood without the infamous red cape, so you found the perfect hooded cape that tied in the front and went all the way down to the floor. You also threw in a pair of white thigh highs with black satin bows on the upper bands, a shiny new princess plug with ruby red jewel heart on top (you couldn’t have too many of those), and a lacy little red g string to tie everything underneath together. And to get a real idea of how perfect everything was, the g string was so small that your pussy was barely staying in, and your ass had practically swallowed up the little string in the back. You were so glad that Harry was going to rip it off later on. To round out the entire look, you bought a cute little basket to give it all a little bit more innocence and a pair of long stain gloves. You pulled your patent leather heels from the closet and you did something really simple and cute with the hair and makeup to really drive Harry crazy.

Once you were all done putting the pieces together, tightening and pulling things things into their proper places, and creating this look, you couldn’t believe your eyes. You were completely taken aback at how good you looked and you couldn’t wait to get an even stronger reaction from Harry once you showed him. Since you were keeping the whole surprise thing going, you laid everything out for him in the room next to yours so that you could get dressed separately and do a little reveal before taking some pictures. You do a final once over of yourself before grabbing your phone and the little things you got to round out Harry’s costume and heading over into the next room. As if he could just sense your presence, Harry’s head quickly lifts up from his phone and brings his undivided attention onto you.

“Holy shit!” He gawks, quickly moving himself to the foot of the bed so that he could get a better look at you.

“You like?” You ask, quickly sitting the items in your hands down onto the bed do that you can pull the cape away from the back and do a little twirl for him.

“You look amazing.” He whispers dumbfoundedly. There were no words to describe what was going through Harry’s head. From the moment he laid his eyes on you, his mind was flooded with the filthy things he wanted to do to you. He was also excited to role-play with you a bit. He never really thought about doing little red riding hood and the big bad wolf but he was very happy that you did because this was crazy hot.

“I’m glad you like it.” You reply happily, coming in closer to him.

“M’just trying to figure out why my costume is so simple.” He asks amusedly, pulling you closer between his legs.

“I didn’t want it to be costumey, I just wanted it to be hot. And the tattered red plaid and ripped blue denim was the only werewolf costume inspo I could find.” You say simply, moving yourself onto him so that you’re straddling his thigh. “Plus I didn’t want to be scared while you’re fucking me. But I did buy you some fangs and one of those werewolf mask things.” You continue, reaching over to grab the two items.

“I think I’ll stick to the fangs.” He chooses, taking the fangs from your hand.

“Can you just wear it for one picture please?” You ask sweetly, sitting the mask down wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Fine, but only if you let me do anything I want to you tonight.” Harry bargains, bringing his hands down to your thighs.

“Of course daddy.” You readily agree.

“Good. Now as much as I like having those tits in my face, we should probably head downstairs because the longer you’re on me like this, the harder it’s going to be to get those pictures you want.”

“Then let’s go.” You reply, bringing your feet back to the floor before standing up in front of him. You then proceed to waste no time grabbing your things from the bed, pulling Harry up as well and walking you both out of the room.

Now it was time to set everything up. You wanted perfect photos so you took out the tripod and clicker so that the photos could be perfect and so that this process could be hurried along to the fun stuff. After finally positioning the camera in a way that has the best lighting that flatters you both, and figuring out the cameras timer, you and Harry take some pictures of the both of you in your costumes. You were able to get some photos of just yourself, some cute coupely photos that you were definitely going to post on Instagram, the one picture of Harry in the mask, and you also got some that were definitely going into your archive of more nsfw photos. When you took the cape off to get some pictures of the actual outfit, Harry’s hands were all over you. When the final second markers flashed across the phone screen, Harry’d spring into action and do something inappropriate. In one of the photos, he randomly pulls you up into his arms, squeezing his hands into the flesh of your ass, and lightly sinking his teeth into your neck. Another time, he stood behind you and just as the time began to wind down, he reached around you to push his hand up the front of your skirt to cup your barely covers pussy and used the other to cup one of your breasts all while keeping you tight against him with his face in your neck. Every time he did this your pussy got wetter and you got more excited for what was going to happen a little later. Luckily for you, a little later wasn’t going to be that much later. When you bend down to undo your heels after you two were done taking pictures, you gave Harry a full view of what was going on underneath your dress. Your fleshy thighs and ass spread perfectly so that he could see the princess plug and the practically nonexistent panties you had on. Seeing that on top of being teased for what was going on an hour was more than just getting to him. Harry was fired up and he couldn’t take it any longer. So once your shoes were completely off and you were no longer using the wall for support, he quickly pushes you against it, leaving no space between you two. And before he even says a word to you, Harry brings one of his hands up to wrap around your throat and he moves the other down and up your skirt to toy at the plug that was pushed into you.

“’Now we’re gonna play a little game. I’m gonna let you run away, and you better be prepared for me to catch you.” Harry growls into your ear, tightening his grip on your throat. In that moment, he just wanted to fuck his cock into you and just pound you right into the wall. You managed to look like a sweet innocent girl and a filthy slut at the same time. Harry could barely wrap his head around it all. The only thing he knew was that he was definitely going to have some fun with you tonight. “Understand?” He asks, keeping his grip on your throat. You could barely form a word because of his tight grip on you so the only response you gave him was a pitiful nod yes and a whimper, causing him to let go of you completely. “Now run.” He growls, moving back to let you go and get a little head start. And once he does, you’re off. You didn’t even pay attention to where you were going you just went. Your entire body was on fire from his authoritativeness and you wanted him to make a mess out of you. Like no breaks, just back to back pounding and licking into you. You started off in the living room and you made it to the kitchen and the hallway leading to the laundry room. Before you could even decide which way to turn, Harry has his arms tightly around you and is dragging you both over to the kitchen island where he turns you around and hoists you up onto the cool surface. His hand goes back around your throat, he pulls your forward, and leans in to close the gap between his mouth and your ear. “I caught you.” He whispers cynically before pushing your upper body down against the counter.

He then pulls you a little closer to the edge so that he could easily fuck into you before pushing the bottom of your dress up to reveal your skimpy panties. When he sees the tiny string completely enveloped by your puffy and wet cunt, Harry can feel his cock instantly twitch in his pants. Your cunt was so plushy and puffy on the outside, (as well as inside) so seeing the thin strip pushing in between your lips was definitely a sight he’d never get out of his mind.

“Aww, was little red not able to find panties to fit her pussy?” He asks condescendingly with a smirk spread across his face before snapping the flimsy fabric off of you. When he lifts it up to inspect, he can see the darker spots where you drenched them with your juices. So since your mouth hung open because of his grip on your throat, Harry simply lowers the panties down into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself while he fucks you. He then uses his free hand to swiftly undo his pants and release his cock from his pants. Instead of giving himself a couple tugs, he pushes his hard cock right into you. As he pushes in, your toes are curling as tight as they possibly can. His large cock pushing you apart felt so good. Even the grip on your throat felt good. As he enters into you, you could hear his moans and growls as his cock is enveloped with your pussy. “Fuck! Such a good cunt.” He groans, pushing in the rest of the way before beginning his thrusts. He quickly shoves his hips back and forth against you, thrusting his cock in and out of your cunt. You felt like you were floating; his hand was around your throat and he was fucking you hard against the counter. You couldn’t believe how bad you needed him to pound into you like this. He was relentless with his thrusts and didn’t stop pounding into you or circling his thumb around your clit. It was like he was addicted to fucking your walls. Once he pushes in, he just can’t stop. He loved the way you let out the most pathetic whimpers as he enjoyed your spongy walls around his cock.

As he continues to thrust into you, you can feel your sweet spot deep inside you beginning to warm up in the pit of your stomach. The way he continuously thrusted into you and circled his thumb around your clit was absolutely insane. He had you right in the edge of your release, and you couldn’t wait to fall right over into it. While you were clenching around him and squirming in his grip, Harry too was feeling his release bubbling up inside of him. He could feel your walls tightening with every thrust he made and he could also feel you becoming wetter and warmer as he continued on which meant that he was on the edge as well.

“Should the big bad wolf let you cum?” He grunts, loosening the grip on your throat and slowing down his hips to deliver deep and sharp thrusts into your cunt.

“Please!” You beg. You felt like you were about to explode.

“Cum!” He grunts loudly, slamming into you once more and holding himself right against you as he emptied himself into you for the first time of the night. And as he lets go, so do you. Your walls rapidly contract around him as you just let go around as well. After he’s completely done riding the wave of his release, Harry pulls his cock out of you and bends down towards your cunt. Your legs were limply spread against the counter so he takes this opportunity to just dig right in. He opens his mouth wide and goes right into licking into your freshly fucked pussy. Since you were still recovering from your first release, you were extremely sensitive. So having his mouth on you so soon was definitely a shock. Your hands went straight to his hair in an attempt to push him away a bit.

“Oh my-Fuck!” You whine out feeling his tongue go deeper despite your pushes. When you continue pushing at his head and squirming, Harry pulls away from your cunt and stand up to tower over you. He then reaches out and cups your throat again, only this time, he pushes down to pin your head back against the counter.

“When i eat you out, don’t fucking run away from me. Don’t push my head away. Run, Im pulling your ass back. Touch me, i growl at your ass. Do not disturb me when I’m eating.” He snarls, making sure to get his point across to you. “Was gonna make you cum again, but since you obviously don’t deserve it, you’re gonna make me cum instead.” He continues, releasing his grip from you and pulling you down from the countertop. “Now on your knees.” He instructs.

“Yes daddy.” You reply submissively, quickly dropping down to your knees in front of him.

“Open.” He further instructs, wrapping his hand around his cock that was still hard. He couldn’t get enough of you. When your mouth is parted wide, Harry steps a bit closer to you before pushing his entire length into your open mouth. As he travels past your tongue and down your throat, you gag a little and you try to rest your hands against his thighs to stop him but he quickly slaps them away. “Stop trying to fight me. A little girl like you shouldn’t be playing with wolves like me.” He growls, nudging at your throat a bit to get you to gag around him again which causes him to chuckle a bit. He holds himself there for a few more seconds before pulling out of your mouth and letting you catch a breath. When you’re all caught up, you go in to take him back inside but he steps back a little, causing you to crawl forward a bit. “That’s it little girl, crawl for daddy’s cock.” He taunts, watching you inch closer on your hands and knees with every step he takes.

Once you’re full on crawling, Harry’s losing his mind. You look like a complete fiend for his cock as you continue to follow him. He could just imagine how wet your cunt was as you followed his cock. To make it even worse, your ample cleavage was spilling right out of your dress. They were just calling out to him to grab them in his hands and just squeeze and play with them. As you crawled, Harry continued on making little remarks about how much of a cockslut you were for him and how pretty you looked on your knees. Meanwhile, your focus was directly on the hard and glistening cock right in front of you. You just wanted to feel him in your mouth again. After a little more crawling, the two of you make it back to the living room where it all began. He manages to move you both around so that you’re in between the side of the couch, and his towering body. Without waiting much longer, Harry grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you forward and back onto his cock. He wraps a hand in your hair and begins to thrust in and out of your mouth, listening to your moans and gags aground him. Your mouth and throat felt impeccable around his cock. Again, you were warm and wet which was all he could ever ask for when it came to your mouth. Because he was tugging at his cock as he lured you back into the living room, Harry was pretty worked up by now. This meant that he was really close to letting go again. And just as he does, Harry pulls his cock from your throat so that he could be right on your tongue and flood your mouth with his cum.

“Fuck!” He growls loudly, keeping his grip on your hair tight as he lets go. Spurt after spurt he floods your mouth with his thick cum. He came so much that it began to drip out of the corner of your mouth. Right now you were starting to wish you hadn’t tried to push his head away. Once he calms himself down a bit from his release, he pulls his cock from your mouth, unwraps his hand from your hair, and grabs you by your forearm to lift you up from the floor. You looked so pretty with your watery eyes and cum on your face that he couldn’t help but go one more time.

Without warning, Harry quickly lifts you up into his arms and rushes you both upstairs to the bedroom. Once inside, he drops you onto the bed and quickly removes every piece of clothing on his body along with the before moving onto you. He pulls at the strings at the front of your dress to loosen it from your body beef pulling it off and tossing it behind him. He pulls the gloves from your hands as well and leaves the stockings on because why not and then crawls onto the bed. Then he pulls your hips up and positions himself behind you so that he’s nudging at your entrance.

“Please daddy!” You whine out to him, pushing back in his direction, trying to sink his cock into you. You really wanted to feel his cock and cum again.

After watching you beg and move around a little bit more, Harry finally gives in and pushes into you. It felt so good, you herein need of a second release and you were finally going to get it. As he quickly thrusts himself in and out of you, Harry decides to play with your second hole a bit. Continuing his thrusts, he wraps his fingers around the top of the plug and he slowly pulls it out of you. He watches as your hole seizes back up and listens to your desperate moans get louder because he’s done this. He then spits down onto your hole and pushes the tip of the plug around there area to spread it.

“Oh my god!” You scream, feeling him go even deeper.

“Feeling good babygirl?” He asks nonchalantly through his own pants and moans, keeping his attention on teasing your second hole and watching the flesh of your ass move in synch with his thrusts.

“So good. M’gonna cum.” You slur, as you feel yourself becoming lightheaded from the massive release that was fast approaching.

“Wanna cum on daddy’s cock?” He asks, pushing the plug back into you in the process and continuing to thrust into you.

“Please” Whine softly. When Harry hears you respond in that way, he can tell that you’re about to have a really big release. So he pulls himself out of you and in one swift motion your flipped onto your back with Harry between your legs. He wastes no time pushing back into you and slamming in as hard and as fast as he can go. As he does, he can see that your eyes are watery and rolled back, and you have a little bit of drool forming in the corner of your mouth.

“You look so pretty getting fucked stupid babydoll, milking my cock for all I have, such a good girl.” He praises, slamming down onto you and feeling his third and definitely final release creeping up on him. “Daddy loves his stupid little girl.” He hums shakily, feeling himself nearing the edge as well. When his thrusts become staggered, Harry realizes that he can’t hold it anymore. “Now be a good girl and cum with daddy.” He grunts, stilling himself inside of you for the final time of the night and emptying whatever drops of cum are left in his body. And while he lets go, so do you. But yours is much more intense. Your body is full on quaking as you not only let go but also squirt all over him. The fact that he was hitting that sweet spot over and over again and the fact that you were desperately in need of a second release catapulted you right over the edge and into a powerful release.

Once he’s completely done, Harry collapses right onto the bed next to you. The both of you were deep into your post orgasm comas and you were going to be there for a good while too. There was just a lot for your bodies and minds to process.

Maybe being stuck inside for Halloween wasn’t so bad after all.

Masterlist

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years ago

Note

Hiii!! I really love your tumblr posts and I'm pretty new to the Batfam (meaning I have only read fics and textposts about them, no comics) and I wanted to ask about the year Bruce/Batman gets "lost in time". I know general things of what the kids have been doing–Dick became batman and fired Tim from robin, giving it to Damian, everyone thinking Tim was crazy for believing Bruce was alive, (don't really know what Jason was up to though, was he still murderous towards Tim? Does the pit still affect him? Also I have no idea about Cass and Duke, were they introduced at this point??) Anyways, my real question was why was Bruce lost in time, what villain put him there? And how did he get out? And how long was he "dead"? Was Bruce in another reality or like just asleep the whole time? Oh! And how soon did this happen after Damian got introduced to the family–a couple months?

I'm so sorry this is so long, but I hope you answer and thank you!!

(I’m going to try and cover all my bases here by going into how exactly Bruce “died,” what went down during the Battle For the Cowl, what the Batkids did while Bruce was gone, and how Bruce came back. Hopefully it all makes sense?? We’ll see how it goes lmao.)

Part 1 - What Happened to Bruce:

So there was this event called Final Crisis (which I won’t go completely into since it would make this post a million times longer than it already is), but the bottom line is that Darkseid wants to overthrow reality and release his Anti-Life Equation, which would overthrow the whole planet and turn everyone into slaves. (If you’re interested in knowing more about the storyline, here’s a Reddit thread that explains it WAY better than I could.)

What I CAN tell you is that during his final confrontation with Darkseid, Bruce is hit by an Omega Beam and turned into a burnt chicken nugget killed. Poor guy.

Final Crisis #6

Clark and Diana bring the body back to the Batcave and break the news to the Batfamily. Batman #687 covers a good portion of the aftermath such as Bruce’s funeral, the Batfamily grieving, and Dick coming to terms with his new responsibility of becoming Batman.

Batman #687

Part 2 - Battle For the Cowl:

Musical chairs time, fellas! After word gets out that Batman is gone, Gotham erupts into chaos. Dick doesn’t want to take over the mantle, Tim needs Dick to take over the mantle, and Jason says “fuck it” and takes over the mantle himself because somebody around here has to. He becomes this murderous psychopathic Batman and starts taking out criminals with deadly force because someone’s gotta do the job, so it might as well be him.

Batman: Battle For the Cowl #1

(Okay honestly, this series had some pretty bad characterization overall, which sucks since it’s such an important storyline. Jason is portrayed as this violent psychopath, which...okay, he was kind of insane after the Pit and all, but not to this degree. Personally, I choose to owe the bad characterization to Bruce’s death because as much as Jason resents Bruce for all he’s done, he does still love him and losing him would be devastating, which would exacerbate his already fragile mental health. As for Damian, this happens roughly three years after his first appearance, so we can assume it’s been a few months since he first joined the family. He’s still relatively new at this point, so nobody knows how to write him yet. He ends up being depicted as if his main two personality traits are Bratty and Assassin-Child and that’s it. It’s all just a mess.)

Anyway, Tim tells Dick to become Batman and stop Jason’s reign of terror. Dick says no, so Tim follows Jason’s lead by saying “fuck it” and putting on the cowl himself. He goes to confront Jason, which ends in Jason beating the crap out of him (again) and leaving him for dead after Tim declines his offer to become Jason’s Robin. Dick goes to save Tim and ends up fighting Jason.

Battle For the Cowl #3

Dick wins, Jason disappears, Tim is fine, and Dick finally gets his head out of his ass and becomes Batman.

Part 3 - What Happens to Each Batkid While Bruce is “Dead”?:

Dick:

As I said, Dick becomes the new Batman a month after Bruce’s death. He’s got big shoes to fill, and it takes some time for him to get used to his new role. He and Damian end up flipping around the classic Batman and Robin dynamic, with Batman now as the fun counterpart to Robin’s edginess. Dick, Damian, and Alfred relocate to the penthouse above the Wayne Foundation building, operating out of a secret Bat-Bunker in the basement.

Batman #688

Jason:

After Battle For the Cowl, Jason is still batshit insane and determined to make Dick’s already stressful life even harder by becoming a supervillain with an ugly costume and an even uglier hairstyle. (I know it’s just because the artist sucked, but still. Jason is horrifying to look at during this time.) He mostly just gets on Dick’s nerves by running around Gotham with his new sidekick Scarlet and killing criminals as Batman and Robin wannabes. Eventually, Dick has Jason committed to Arkham Asylum and he hangs out there until Bruce returns.

Batman and Robin (2009) #5

Tim:

Tim...doesn’t do great after Bruce’s death, mentally. Dick makes Damian Robin, his reasoning being that Robin is more of a sidekick and he sees Tim as his equal. By making Damian Robin, Dick hopes that it will give him the stability he needs to keep him from straying back toward the “bad” side. (It’s the right move ultimately, although his execution was pretty messed up since he didn’t discuss it with Tim beforehand, but he’s allowed to make mistakes. Dick’s father just died and now he’s in charge of picking up the pieces of their broken family. It’s a lot to handle.)

Long story short, Tim has a breakdown, realizes that Bruce is alive, dons the Red Robin identity, and cuts ties with his family to travel the world in search of proof. It’s a rough time.

Red Robin #1

Damian:

Our little guy becomes Robin! So proud of him! As I explained earlier, Dick makes Damian his Robin with the assumption that it will keep him out of trouble, and he’s right on that account. He mentors Damian, teaching him how to channel his violent instincts into something productive, and it works! Slowly but surely, Damian makes the transition from bratty assassin to actual hero!

Batman and Robin (2009) #22

Cass:

Duke sadly was not introduced at this point in time, so he missed out on all the pandemonium. Cass, however, has been Batgirl for years by now, but she got kind of pushed aside by the writers after Bruce’s death. Bruce disappears shortly after adopting Cass, but once he was “dead,” the writers sort of moved Cass around for a while, not quite knowing what to do with her. First she was with the Outsiders. Then they got disbanded and Cass tried forming a new network of heroes to take over for Batman if needed. Then she helped out in said network during Battle for the Cowl, taking care of a newly ravaged Gotham. Then Cass gave the Batgirl mantle to Stephanie Brown after she became disillusioned with the role, thanks to the loss of her father and mentor. Then Cass picked up and moved to Hong Kong to “follow Bruce’s plans” by continuing whatever work he had set up for her there. It was all very vague and confusing, and Cass more or less got swept under the rug during this time. Thanks, writers.

Batgirl (2009) #1

Part 4 - How Bruce Came Back:

When the Blackest Night storyline happens, the Justice League realizes that the corpse buried under Bruce’s grave is apparently not the real one and that he’s actually alive out there somewhere! How wild is that! This is further proven by Dick after he places Bruce’s body in a Lazarus Pit to revive, which has the same result because it’s very clearly Not Bruce and they should have listened to Tim from the start.

Batman and Robin (2009) #9

Anyway, what actually happened is that the Omega Beams that Darkseid shot at Bruce didn’t kill him, but rather blasted him back through time to the prehistoric era with his memories wiped. The Omega Energy inside of Bruce ends up catapulting him through various time periods, which is all part of Darkseid’s plan. With each time-hop, Bruce builds up more Omega Energy in his body which, when he gets back to his original time period, will be unleashed and destroy everything.

Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne #5

It’s been a little under two years since Final Crisis, though in-universe it’s uncertain exactly how long Bruce has been “dead.” We can assume it’s been a year, give or take. The way he comes back is too scientific and complicated for me to understand, so uhhhh the bottom line is that Tim and a few Leaguers save Bruce at the Vanishing Point and the day is saved! Hooray!

Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne #6

(If you want to read about how it actually goes down, then I seriously recommend reading Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne. It’s only six issues, so it’s a quick read and it explains the situation far better than I ever could.)

Bruce eventually reunites with his family after spying on them for a period of time as Insider to see what has changed in his absence:

Bruce Wayne: The Road Home

After that, things quickly settle back into their new normal. Dick and Damian stay on as Batman and Robin. Bruce goes back to being Batman as well, with him handling Batman Incorporated business and Dick continuing as Gotham’s defender. Tim keeps the Red Robin outfit, Steph stays on as Batgirl, and Cass becomes Black Bat. Jason stays in Arkham for a while before filing an appeal to be moved to a regular prison. He kills 82 inmates in less than a week and gets transferred back to Arkham, which he promptly escapes from. It’s a ride, I tell ya.

Aaaaand that’s about it! I hope this answered all of your questions!

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stubbedbakutoes · 4 years ago

Text

Promise Ring

Bakugou accidentally slips up amidst an argument with (y/n). The question now is, does he feel guilty? at all?

pairing: asshole!bakugou x fem reader

word count: 2.1k

genre: angst (i advise grabbing some tissues before proceeding with caution mwahaha)

part 2

masterlist

Whilst his hands held up the ring in the glistening light of the gradually rising sun, her movements halted, thankful she was mere seconds away from having the hot liquid in her mouth because she would more than likely be spluttering and coughing at the shock of what he had just said. Bakugou darted his eyes away from hers, because he’s embarrassed.

But then he’s just looking back at her again. Because he couldn’t not look at her. He licked his suddenly dry as hell lips, shrugging a shoulder.

“Fell for you hard and I don’t want this to just be some fling that we’ll get over in a few weeks.” The blush was rising on his cheeks and she found this self-conscious side of him adorable.

“Kacchan!” She kicked his shin under the table. “You’re asking me to marry you?” She asked slowly.

“No!” He scoffed playfully, which soon turned into a laugh when she squealed out something along the lines of ‘Don’t look so disgusted! how was I supposed to react to that, huh?’ “I mean, you’ve had my dick in your mouth, I'd say we’re pretty committed at this poi-.”

“But you’re really not proposing?” She cut him off, not wanting to hear anything from his vulgar mouth anymore.

“Shut up.” He chuckled, mindlessly playing footsie with her under the table. “I’m serious about it though.”

“Marrying me?”

Bakugou sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as a smile played on his lips, “About how we’re past the honeymoon stage.”

“What’s that?” Lifting her mug of tea for the second time, she finally took her first sip of what was always a good cup of morning coffee when made by someone else, specifically Bakugou.

“You know... That period at the beginning of the relationship when everything goes well and is free of problems.”

“Aside from arguing whether the toilet seat cover should stay up or not?”

Bakugou smiled fondly at her. “Sure.”

Their grins were far too wide and cheesy for this early in the morning but the feeling of giddiness they felt inside was too much to conceal and, without any further word on the subject, the rest of breakfast was served so the two could quiet down their grumbling stomach like a proper non-fling-type couple.

(y/n)’s trying the ring on her fingers, and when it only fits on her fourth finger (like he’d hoped), Y/N’s looking back at him. “I care about you too.” She smiled reassuringly. “And to prove it,” She began, stabbing a portion of Bakugou’s food with a fork. “I’ll have this piece of your pancake, thank you very much.”

“Where’s the correlation?”

“I just wanted to steal some food from you, sorry.”

“You’re not very good at being sly, aren’t you?” Bakugou giggled, playing with the matching ring on his pinky finger. “ I just. I love you, you know? And, like. I know we’re still young, so it’s obviously not an engagement ring. I like to consider it a promise. Something to keep your finger warm till I get you a proper ring.”

“—so now what? You just wait for me to leave so you can— what? Cheat on me?!” Bakugou slammed his open palm down on the wooden table, eyes alit with a fury so strong that even (y/n)'s terrified because she's never, ever, seen him this angry before. She's had fights with him before, of course she has, they've been together for over three years, but she's never seen him this determined to win an argument– to the extent that if they were in a cartoon show, he'd probably have smoke puffing out of either side of his ears.

But this is no time for her imagination to be running wild because she's pissed, too. So much anger flooded her veins that tears accumulating in the corner of her eyes are almost spilling out — that's the worst kind of anger.

(y/n) gaped at him. “Are you fucking serious right now? I had one single conversation with that guy and and you— you think I’m cheating on you?!”

And what's filling her with rage is that what they're fighting over is stupid, good Lord, it's so fucking stupid.

It started with (y/n) telling Bakugou about how she's finally found a dream, something to chase, because she's spent most of her life without having decided what to do for herself or wanting anything in her life. That dream involved her going to a school, outside the country, and that turned into a tiny misunderstanding, which blossomed into something else, followed something else after that, and then both Bakugou and Y/N were yelling at each other and calling each other names and it was all a horrible sight to see. Both of them have no idea what brought it on to this extent. All they're certain of is that they're pissed at each other and have, apparently, been pissed at each other for a long ass time.

Bakugou grinned. A grin that she loathed, because Bakugou’s grins are usually with mischief, with playfulness. Not this malice. He outstretched his arm on either sides of him, like he’s showing something off. “Well, I don’t see anyone proving me otherwise.”

She huffed, glaring right back at him. “What the hell is your problem?”

“What’s my problem?! What the hell is your problem?!” Bakugou yelled back at her, not even bothering to try to keep from shouting. He pointed out the door, “You were fucking flirting with that two-faced asshole right in front of me! You're the problem!”

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?! That was months ago, you've had that stupid excuse of a grudge on me ever since, huh?!" (y/n)'s eyes narrowed and crinkled – not in a way that Bakugou's used to seeing. "I haven't done anything wrong! All I've done is fucking been there for your stupid ambition to be the number one hero-

"Stupid? Stupid?!" Bakugou repeated incredulously, eyes widening as he quivered with anger. "I'd watch my words if I were you. This is my fucking life goal and something I want for myself that you're calling stupid."

(y/n) was nearly suffocating on her fury, her laugh void of any happiness leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. "I am aware of what I'm spewing out. Your fucking dream was delusional and far fetched but I supported it, didn't I?! I watched every single match, patched up your hands when they bled from all that training, made you delicious bentos to fuel you up for the day – "

"– And now you say it was all stupid," Bakugou laughed mirthlessly, glaring at her so hard that (y/n)'s knees start to tremble. "How romantic can this get?" He raised his voice, arms stretching out before clapping obnoxiously loud, "I hope shitting on your boyfriend's dream has given you some sort of satisfaction."

"And you've got some nerve to pull all of this shit with me about suddenly wanting something for myself because I've met someone else and that I'm cheating on you," (y/n)'s lips tremble, her voice practically shaking with anger as she spoke, a finger going to point accusingly at him, "You're not my boyfriend. You're just one big hypocrite!"

"You fucking are, though!" His voice was laced with venom as he practically spat the words in the woman's face. "You're definitely planning to elope with some hunk city boy! I'm not fucking good enough for you, huh?!"

And that’s— that’s the final straw.

Relationships are about trust, and Bakugou obviously didn't fucking trust her. If he wasn't so much of a prick in how he reacted to her telling him her future plans then they'd probably be cuddled against each other, asleep, and Bakugou would be the first to start apartment hunting for her — for them, because he'd even move with her, since he knows he couldn't properly function without her.

But before she even opened her mouth to inform him that she's done with this toxic relationship, he beat her to it, “Good thing I never fell in love with you, then.”

(y/n)’s face changed from cocky to puzzled then to heartbroken. As his words made her world crumble, Bakugou took pride in the sight of the bewildered woman before him, not planning to take his words back anytime soon since he saw this argument as a game of who can devastate the other first. And the prize was looking back on this fight one day and thinking, wow, I won that. It didn't matter what had been said and done in his book.

But (y/n) and Bakugou are two sides of the same coin; she simply wanted to have her point reach his end, so that they can both agree to put this aside and go back to their normal, non-fling-type couple selves.

“So all of this,” She motioned between them, interrupting his train of thought “meant nothing to you? You never even loved me?” She asked with what seemed to be a mixture of hurt and sadness but mainly anger. Before he could even blink, she was over hitting him on the chest with her tightly clenched fists, trying to let out her pain, “I hate you, you're the worst! You told me numerous times you loved me- that you’d never even make me feel like shit! What’s changed, Bakugou? Why can’t you love me anymore?” Her voice cracked, nonetheless she was smoldered with rage.

"Are you deaf? I said I never did. I was lying the whole time, whenever I told you that— that I did."

Bakugou took every hit she was giving him because he stood firmly on his feet, unnecessarily adding fuel to the fire, as if (y/n)'s miserable state wasn't enough to satisfy him — to drop his guard and tell her he wanted to take it back. That he wanted to say I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry, I love you, I didn’t mean to say that— but then (y/n)’s letting out a laugh that sounds so bitter, it made Bakugou flinch.

“Fine,” she breathed out, then she’s scoffing out another harsh laugh. “Then— we’re done. Wouldn’t want you to waste your time and effort in a relationship that you never thought was worth it. I don’t want to waste my time and energy being with someone who clearly doesn’t feel the same kind of love towards me.”

And she turned on her heel, ready to head straight out the door, purposefully ignoring the faint, “Wait, (y/n)—” from behind. Her opposite hand subconsciously grazed the promise ring she shared with Bakugou, and she realises something.

At one swift movement, she pulled at the said ring and threw it at him with more force than necessary.

“What a fucking nonsense 'promise' that was,” She said out loud, and it rang through Bakugou’s ears, because he made a pathetic whining sound that's never been heard before, because this moment couldn't have a bigger emotional toll on him than anything else.

"Y/N, hear me out," he sniffled. "I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean an ounce of what I said. I know you're not cheating on me, baby, I'm sure of that. I was being a dickhead for that and I'm so fucking sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I love you, Y/N. God. I need you so much, and I was lying when I said I never did. When you're not with me, I'm not... me. And I just," he sighed, pulling the ends of his hair aggressively. "I'm sorry, I really am."

Y/N’s got a hand on the door handle, but there were fingers slowly wrapping around her other wrist. She yanked her wrist out of his hold like his touch burned, causing Bakugou's lips to shake. It's hitting him now, the fact that he's losing the girl he courted and spent so much time with. The girl who kept him wide awake at night because of how much she clouded his mind. Not to mention, the ring which symbolizes their commitment to each other, is being thrown away like it's nothing.

(y/n) peeked at him through her eyelashes, "Give me a break. I obviously don't have a place in your heart, you've made that painfully clear to me. So do me a favor and fuck off."

He very nearly heaved with his next breath. He held a hand up, ring between his pointer finger and thumb. “I meant it when I said I wanted to get serious with this relationship. I still do, and that'll never change. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, that you should be with someone— someone better in every fucking way possible, I want to be the one to marry you. That wasn’t a false promise. That was— that is the promise that I swear to God I’ll be keeping until my last breath.”

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moral-turpitudes · 4 years ago

Text

The Day-Shift:

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Light Harassment, Fighting, Drinking, Sex, Mentions of Blood, Gore, etc. **The italicized portion contains Explicit/18+ Content. If you are a minor, I suggest skipping over that part. Thank you.**

Word Count: 3,730

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes

Requested by: Anon | Request can be seen Here |

Summary: Y/N is a nurse at the hospital Michael is recuperating at, and has been a nuisance ever since the ordeal with the Italians. After a particularly snarky encounter with the young blinder, Y/N warns Thomas of his cousins antics, who later asks her out for a drink to ease both their nerves, ending in a romantic night for the lead member and a possible new relationship to form.

“Will I be discharged soon? The Shelby’s need me back.” Michael asked, the gunshot wound still aching as he spoke.

“No.” Y/N said with an annoyed expression. Inspecting the wound as she put a new bandage over it, Michael wincing as she did so.

“Right, well I guess you’ll have to talk to Thomas then. Good luck Y/N.” Michael said, angrily pulling his shirt back on and leaning against the rough pillows on his hospital bed.

“It’s just our policy Michael. I’d hate to have a patient bleeding out on the floor. I just mopped.” She said, discarding the old bandages.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out aye?” He said, watching her with a frustrated look on his face. His nerves still reeling over the surprise visit from Luca Changretta shoving a gun in his face hours before.

He knew he had to get out, and soon if he wanted to help his mother and to try to mend things with the others, at least to some degree.

Down the hall at the reception desk, Thomas walked in, quickly removing his cap before stopping at the desk.

“Hello Mr. Shelby. Here to see Michael?” Y/N asked, finishing her report.

“Yes. Is he able to have visitors at the moment?” He asked.

“Yes, but I’d tread carefully. He’s a bit cranky today. Wasn’t very pleasant earlier...told me to not let the door hit me on my way out.” She said with a smirk, his blue gaze making her breath catch in her throat.

“Well, I’ll apologize on his behalf since he’s not man enough to. You’re just doing your job, love.” He said, a slight smirk forming on his face.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby.” She said.

“Call me Tommy.” He said, licking his lips before placing a cigarette in his mouth.

Y/N reached her hand out to stop him, the lighter unable to be flicked with her hand over it.

“No smoking in here, sorry Tommy.” She said, a stickler for the rules, at least when it came to her shifts at the hospital.

“If you say so.” He said, a small sigh escaping his lips before he put the lighter and cigarette back in his coat.

“Good luck, Tommy.” She said, a small smirk on her lips.

He nodded before reluctantly walking to the room, not bothering to knock on the door.

“What’re you doing here Tommy.” Michael stated, still frustrated.

“Just checking on ya. You’ve been giving the nurse a hard time aye?” He said, a cold look in his eyes as he remembered Michael’s wrong-doings before the Italians shot him.

“Just asked her if I could go home, she said no of course. Said she didn’t want a patient bleeding out cuz she just mopped. Stupid really.” He said, sneaking a cigarette from under his pillow.

“You can’t have that right now Michael. At least not until you’re healed more.” He said.

“Oh fuck off Tom. I can do what I want in here. What...did she tell you there’s no smoking?” He asked.

“Aye she did. She’s just following protocol.” He said.

“I don’t care. Just leave me will ya? I can deal with her later.” He said, lighting the cigarette.

Thomas sighed in frustration at the young man, unable to understand why except that he was tired of being cooped up in the small, white room.

“I’ll have your mother come by later. I suggest you show the woman who helped save you some respect.” He said, walking out of the room.

“I told ya. He’s been one hell of a patient aye?” Y/N asked, closing the medical book on her desk.

“Mhmm. Say, have you seen anyone in here besides me today?” He asked.

“No, I started my shift only and hour ago.” She said.

“How long does it go till?” He asked.

“Uhm, ‘round five hours. Won’t be out till at least six if all the patients fucking behave.” She said.

“That’s a new one, I’ve seen ya every day for the two weeks and you’re cussing now. Blinders are rubbing off on ya.” He said.

“I knew that’s what it was. It’s contagious.” She said, chuckling slightly.

“Well how about I pick you up ‘round then aye? I can take you for a drink. I think you’ve earned it after dealing with my fucking cousin of all people.” He said.

“You’re joking...” She said, never thinking Thomas Shelby would ever ask her - a day-shift nurse - out for a drink.

“Am I’m laughing?” He asked, a small smirk on his face.

Y/N looked at the clock nearby, the hands ticking down ever so slowly.

“I’d love to. I’ll be counting down the hours.” She said, grinning.

“Alright. I’ll see you then, miss.” He said.

“Aye Tommy?” She called out before he walked off too far.

“Call me Y/N.” She said.

“Right...I’ll see you later miss Y/N.” He said, making it a point to pull out a cigarette and lighting it just as he walked out the door, leaving Y/N chuckling to herself.

The hours dragged on, Y/N dealing with one rude patient after another. One screaming at her and one getting blood all over her uniform during a grueling emergency surgery.

“Jesus. You’ve been through hell aye?” A voice sounded from the hallway as Y/N neared her desk for the last time that night.

“Oh! Uh...hi Tommy. Fucking startled me ya know.” She said, swiping a strand of hair out of her face as she gathered her things.

“I’m going to get out of all this mess and then I’ll be ready to go. You can wait in the lobby if you’d like.” She said, looking at the gangster leaning against the wall, staring at Michael’s door with an empty expression.

“Alright.” He said, walking out to the old rickety chairs outside the main reception area.

She scurried to the nurses changing room and put on the only clothes she had, a black dress and cardigan with worn, black heels.

She washed the dried blood off her hands and face and hastily applied a small amount of lipstick, eyeliner, and mascara, nothing too extravagant given her circumstances.

With a nervous sigh, she looked in the mirror one last time, wrestling with her hair a bit to make it at least somewhat presentable for wherever he was taking her.

“That wasn’t long. You look great, Y/N.” He said, putting down a random book that was sitting on one of the old side tables.

“Thank you! I uh, didn’t have much to work with back there but it’s better than being covered in blood aye?” She said, wrapping her coat tightly around her as she braced for the cold night air that was sure to slither its way through their bones.

“Aye, I guess that’s true.” He said, thinking about how he’d shown up to numerous places covered in blood, not really taking it into account before.

“So, Tommy Shelby. Where in the world are we going?” She asked, looking at him. The streetlights shooting by as he drove down the many dark streets of Birmingham.

“Well, there’s not many I like going to except for the Garrison. You heard of it?” He asked.

“Yeah, been a couple times with friends. It’s fun...most times.” She said, cringing at past drunk memories.

Thomas looked at her as the smirk spread across her features, her eyes wrinkling with the movement as they continued their drive to the pub.

“Here we are.” He said, getting out and quickly helping her down from the tall, black car. The metal hood shining in the moonlight as the noise from the pub made its way through the streets.

The noise grew as they walked in, the smell of booze filling the air as they made their way to the bar.

“Hiya Mr. Shelby. What can I get for you and the lucky lady?” The bartender asked cheerfully.

“The usual for me. What about you love?” He asked, her mind racing with trying to decide on something.

“I’ll just have what he’s having? And a gin please.” She said.

“You like whiskey?” He asked with a smirk.

“Yeah. Only drink it on bad nights usually. Takes the pain away.” She said.

“Pain of what?” He asked as the bartender sat a whole bottle down along with two shot glasses and her gin.

Tommy nodded at the bartender as she spoke.

“A lot of things. I see a lot of people in bad shape all time. Kind of haunts ya you know? And dealing with patients like your cousin aren’t much better. Pain in my ass really.” She said, chuckling and taking a nervous sip of her gin.

“Aye, that he is. I told him to lay off though. You helped save him after all. It’s the least he could do.” He said, pouring them both a shot.

“So are we splitting the bill or? I don’t mind.” She said.

“Nah, I get the drinks for free. That includes yours.” He said.

“Oh...” she said, taking a swig of her gin again, the clear liquid burning like fire on the way down.

“I make gin.” He said, changing the subject.

“Oh really? Is it good?” She asked.

“Personally I think it is, some people prefer it...not as sweet though. What do you think of it?” He asked.

“Wait, this is yours?” She asked, downing the last of it slowly, trying to form a decent opinion as it burned down her throat.

“Hmm, well...” she said, turning her nose up, jokingly.

“I’m kidding. You should’ve seen your face, love...It’s good though. I don’t think it’s too sweet...It’s just right.” She said, looking up at him as he downed his now third shot.

“You drinking that whole bottle?” She asked.

He shook his head and lit a cigarette, pouring her another after she downed the first one.

“Not unless you help me. Maybe then I’ll make it back to the house.” He said.

“You live ‘round here?” She asked.

“Not anymore. Up at Arrow House.” He said, blowing a puff of smoke away from her.

“Jesus. I don’t want to know what that cost, but I’m sure you and your blinders could afford those things. Is it nice?” She asked, slightly regretting the rapid pace she downed the shots in.

“It’s grand. More so in the sense it’s empty. Lots of rooms with no life in them really. My son Charlie’s there but that’s it besides the nanny and the maids.” He said.

“You have a whole crew then. I’m impressed.” She said.

“Would you like to go there?” He asked.

“Sure. But...” she said, pouring herself a shot of the whiskey.

“Let’s finish this first, can’t let a good thing go to waste aye?” She said, knocking back a shot. Her head slowly turning fuzzy as she hadn’t drank in a few months.

As she put the bottle down, a drunken man came up behind her suddenly, an ugly smile on his face as he grasped at her bum.

She quickly turned around, backing up towards Tommy.

“Get your fucking hands off me you bastard! Go on, go!” She yelled, shoving the already unstable man until he stumbled back. The liquor slowly getting to her as she watched the scene unfold.

Thomas moved her behind him as she watched him unbutton his sleeves, the act causing her to bite her lip curiously as she watched his posture change. The drunken man getting up and slurring his words in a drunken rage as he went to punch him. Tommy blocked the shaky punch and landed one on the mans nose as he stumbled back, blood erupting from the mans nose and also from Tommy’s hands from the sharp impact. The man, with practically more booze than blood in his system came at him again, this time landing a hit to his cheek causing a gash to form. As the brawl ensued, she watched tipsily as a crowd gathered around them both, egging on the blinder who practically owned half of Birmingham at that point.

“You bastard! You broke me nose!” The man yelled, finally noticing the damage done.

“Yeah well you touched my girl so I’d say we’re even. Now go on before I kill ya.” He said in a low voice, his cheek bleeding as he spoke.

“Y-you’ll pay for this. I swear it!” The man said angrily as he pushed his way through the pub and out the door, nearly stumbling as he walked onto the cold cobblestone streets.

“You alright Y/N?” Thomas asked as he turned around, wiping the blood on a towel the bartender already had ready for him.

“I-I’m fine.” She said, going back to the bar and pouring herself another shot, her nerves finally calming down after wanting to beat the man up herself, knowing she could have if only she’d tried harder.

“I think he had concrete for a nose.” He said, she could see the way his skin spilt around his worn knuckles, the blood snaking it’s way down his arm as he clutched the bottle of whiskey.

“Sorry you had to see that.” He said, knocking a shot back and then pulling out another cigarette, a frustrated sigh coming from his lips as the flames from the lighter ignited the thin roll of paper.

“Don’t be sorry. You did a good thing. I’m just mad I couldn’t punch him myself.” She said smirking, trying to lighten the mood as the atmosphere around them returned to normal.

He smirked at that, causing the blood to trickle down his face more as she watched.

“Here. This’ll hurt but it’ll help for now.” She said, turning the bottle neck-down so some it would pour onto the towel. As she leaned in to dab it on his cut cheek, his eyes scanned her face. She was halfway focused due to the alcohol in her system but still more calm than others in the past. He tried not to wince as she applied light pressure, not wanting to hurt him.

“How about we finish this bottle and head out?” He asked.

“Sounds like a plan.” She said, clinking her shot glass with his after setting the bloody towel down.

They both drank until the bottle ran dry, Y/N’s head feeling light and slightly like it was spinning as she made her way to the car. Thomas on the other hand seemed a bit less un-phased, having drunken more in that one week than she had in months.

“Did...did I say thank you? I really should’ve said thank you. That was brave. You just....cracked him right in the nose.” She said drunkenly as she made a punching gesture with her fist.

Thomas chuckled as he drove them to his house, the cool night air slowly sobering them up as they set out for the seemingly long drive to the large manor in the countryside.

“Tommy?” She asked, her eyes landing on him as the moonlight shined through the windows of the car, only his silhouette visible as he spoke.

“Yeah love?”

“Out of all the women...why me? Why’d you decide to go out with a nurse?” She said, laughing at herself slightly. The world slowly not spinning as much as they neared the house.

Thomas was silent for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully since he’d been so reckless with past suitors. He couldn’t stand another heartbreak and so he decided to think a bit more cautiously, for once.

Tommy sighed as he pulled up to the manor, his door creaking as he closed it and helped her out.

“I just happen to like you. You seem...kind. At least when a drunk isn’t trying to put the moves on ya” He said, leading her into the house, the rooms eerily empty as everyone was asleep.

“I see. Well Tommy, if it’s any consolation, I uh may just happen to like you as well. I don’t really care about what they say you know.” She said, fiddling with the buttons on her coat as he helped her take it off.

“And what do they say, Y/N?” He asked, his hand going to hers as he led her around the house quietly.

“They say you’re a drug dealing gangster who kills for fun.” She said smirking.

“They’re only half right, love.” He said, stopping just outside his bedroom.

“How so?” She asked, looking into his eyes in the dimly lit hall.

“I kill for business. Not for fun.” He said, gently caressing her cheek before he brought his lips to hers.

She broke away after a moment, looking at the cut on his cheek.

“I don’t want to hurt you, you need stitches you know.” She said, smirking up at him.

He sighed and led her into the grand bedroom, the luxurious bathroom located just near the room as they walked towards it.

Thomas turned on the light, illuminating the space as he rummaged around for alcohol and his small sewing kit, which saved him more often than not.

“I usually do this myself but I’m sure you’re better at this love.” He said, sitting on the counter as she stood between his legs, expertly threading the needle as she inspected it.

“This is going to hurt, I’m just being honest with you.” She said, forgoing her usual bedside manners.

“Can’t be worse than what I’ve done to myself aye? You won’t leave a huge scar like I would.” He said, looking at her as she started her work. The needle stinging as she quickly stitched him up.

“Scar a handsome face like yours? I could never.” She said, with a smirk as she tied off the stitch and clipped it, dabbing a bit of the alcohol on it to clean it once more. Before he could move, she took his hand gently in hers, dabbing the blood off his hand and running the alcohol over his knuckles as he sat there, a hiss of pain escaping his mouth at the unexpected burn.

“That was worse.” He said.

“I know. It’s never fun treating busted knuckles. I’d suggest maybe not punching anyone in the next couple of days...if you can manage.” She said, bandaging them up.

“For you, I’ll try not to. Now...” He trailed off, his eyes roaming over her.

“What?” She asked, looking at him as she caught him staring.

“Where were we?” He asked, his hand gently holding hers as she stood closer.

**Explicit/18+ Content Ahead. Please skip over the italicized portion if you are under 18, thank you!**

“Oh....right...” she said smirking, bringing her lips gently to his as his hands found their way to her hips, pulling her towards him. Their kiss grew heated as more time passed, his hand stinging as he snaked it through her hair, bringing her closer to him as he broke from her lips and sucked light bruises onto her neck, eliciting a soft moan from her lips.

Their hands wandered over each other, pulling at what clothing remained between them as Thomas led her to the bed. Her smooth skin feeling like silk under his rough fingertips.

Y/N giggled as he laid her on the bed, kissing his way down her neck and chest until he got to her core. His head resting perfectly between her legs as he devoured her, the feeling indescribable as she clutched the expensive sheets beneath her. Her insides soon turning to a knot as she felt her orgasm coming on, her hands finding their way to his head as she grasped his hair tightly, feeling her hips grinding on him as he brought her over the edge, her moans filling the room as she came undone on his lips. As he lifted his head up, he hovered over her, kissing his way up to her lips as she tasted herself on him. Slowly urging her hand down to take hold of him, already hard and yearning to be inside her.

“You sure?” He asked, a low moan escaping his lips as she pumped him. With a quick nod she aligned him with her entrance, wanting nothing more than to close the gap between them. She gasped lightly at the sensation, the pressure of him filling her up as he began thrusting his hips into her. The familiar feeling washing over her again minutes later, tightening around him as she moaned his name. The dim lighting making it harder to see as they continued, making the sensation all the more heightened as his thrusts quickened, and a low moan came from his lips again.

In a swift movement, he let her get on top, riding him as he watched from under her. Her hands scratching down his chest as her body tensed around him, grinding herself down harder and faster as she came once more. Her scratches leaving slight red streaks down his chest as she came down from her high.

Thomas sat up slightly as she rode him slowly once more, his hips meeting hers as she bounced on his cock. His breathing a bit ragged as he came closer. His thrusts getting slower with every minute. As she came close once more, Thomas let out a moan as he came undone, pulling her closer to him as he did so, her walls clenching around him as she moaned in his ear. Their breathing both leveling out as they lied next to each other, sleep finally invading their bones as they lay tangled in each other’s embrace.

“You don’t want me to leave do you?” She asked after a while, stealing Thomas’ cigarette from his mouth as she took a drag from it.

“I’d quite like it if ya stayed actually. Why? Do you want to?” He asked, watching the smoke escape her lips.

“No, I just thought you’d want me to. Didn’t think you’d want anything more after this.” She said.

“What if I do want something more aye?” He asked.

She smiled and thought for a moment before kissing him.

“Then you’ll have to be more careful Tommy Shelby. Can’t have you being hurt everyday. The hospital is full as it is.” She said.

Thomas chuckled as he looked down at her, her eyes lighting up at his smile.

“I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises.” He said, kissing her once more before they decided to go to bed for the night, the hope for a new relationship ever so looming on the horizon.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx,

@lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog

If you’d like to be added/removed, just send me an ask/message! :)

#katiesanons #katiesrequests #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders oneshots #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x female!reader

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