#my friends got me a gift card to buy some nice lingerie too!

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Recently I’ve been having ideas about Eames.

TH Masterlist

Now, before any of you are going to wonder what kind of psycho I am, let me explain why this came up in the dark corners of my mind.

So, in Inception, we basically get little info about Eames. All we know is his surname and that he’s a damn splendid trickster. What is his story? What did he do before Dom approached him and the events of the movie took place?

Who is Eames?

I know I’m heavily diverging from canon here, but that very question spawned a concept I can’t stop thinking about.

Prof!Eames who stalks the cam girl he’s obsessed with and so happens to be one of his students.

*sips her coffee* Yeah, I know. But hear me out.

His online username is GentlemanSir.

He went to great lengths to grab your attention. Making multiple donations during streams, sending gifts and letters to your P.O. box, instructing the barista at the café you frequent to give you handwritten notes with your coffee but remain silent about him being the secret messenger.

Truth be told, he actually gets off on the idea he holds financial dominance over you.

Eames remembers fondly the absolutely flabbergasted expression on your face, the haze of pleasure temporarily lifted, when he donated once again a sum of money running into the hundreds.

It wasn’t so much the number that caught your eye. No, it was the message.

‘For groceries and to buy something nice for yourself.’

That certainly had him score brownie points with you. Sure, the money was nice, but it was the thoughtfulness of his words which drew you to him.

Very well aware of this, having overheard a couple conversations between you and your friends, Eames continued to accompany his donations with sweet messages.

Sir’s proud of you, taking such a big dildo. But don’t forget to drink water, darling!

Take a shower before you go to sleep, poppet. If I was there, I’d wash you and tuck you in.

I really like the new pink lingerie. Here’s some pocket change so you can buy some more cute outfits.

In class, he’s noticed you’ve become more at ease. Before, you used to have this distracted air, which he deduced stemmed from financial worries.

He’s kept an eye on you, trailing you from a distance after your shifts at your two part-time jobs to make sure you got home safe.

Not gonna lie, he was kind of ecstatic when you mentioned quitting your second job. He’s always admired your drive to balance academics with private and work life, but the exhaustion it caused you only made him amp up his game to get you to notice him.

He’d take care of you.

First behind the scenes.

And later, after graduating, he’d step from the shadows to take you on a trip and make you his.

Eames knows you won’t be able to reject his offer, already having planned what cards to play when your conscience will start to gnaw at you.

Moreover, he certainly had noticed the doe eyes you tend to make at him during lectures and seminars and the way you blush when you say his name, a privilege extended only to you.

He can tell it makes you happy when you call him Ian, especially outside of class.

He’s been working out more because he’s noticed the underlying dreamy satisfaction in your eyes it causes. The height difference helps too, as proven by a happy accidental discovery when he paid for your coffee in the cafeteria.

“It isn’t proper for a gentleman to let a woman pay for her own drink,” he merrily told you when you glanced over your shoulder, cheeks flushed and your whole body slightly trembling.

Had he let his self-control waver, he’d have swept you off of your feet and taken you right there and then. You simply looked too cute.

Too meek.

Incapable of stopping him.

He knows you tend to frequent bookshops in your spare time, so it happens more than once you ‘bump into him’ while browsing them.

He stays close to you under the pretense of protecting you from the other predatory men who fancy they have a chance with you.

In reality, though, the hand resting on your hip stems from the pure need, the instinct, to touch you.

Moreover, he enjoys the way he towers over you. He’s basically the wall between you and the outside world (and everyone in it).

A role which he intends to play until you tell your audience you’re taken by a man who does it like no other and you shut the camera off once and for all.

Until you introduce him to your parents and friends as your husband, the man who provides you with a stable and comfortable life.

Until he is your world.

And in the meantime, he’ll just have to get rid of every obstacle.

One silent bullet and perfect lie at a time.

All behind your back.

So you don’t have to see Sir’s monstrous side.

I’ll admit I went off the rails here, but this is what I’m living for right now. I don’t know how I’d translate this into a wee story or series, if ever I will. All the same, I thought it’d be a nice concept to share.

Tag list: @buttercupsandboys @hecatemoon87 @potter-solomons @alikaheroes @ilovemanypeople @dreamlandcreations @zablife @vir-tual @liliac-dreamer @woofgocows @elijahssuit

[after-witch]

Yandere Ransom Imagine

“That's some heavy-duty conjecture.”

Word Count: 2700ish

notes: unhealthy relationships, emotional and physical abuse, financial abuse, yandere

Imagine being a struggling adult working a full time job plus freelancing gigs just to get by in your one-bedroom apartment where the ceiling always leaks when it rains and you have to perform a complicated maneuver to make sure the door doesn’t jam up on you and you’re constantly worried about your landlord raising the rent.

Maybe a well-meaning friend gets you a gift card to an upscale bookstore because they know you haven’t had a new book on your shelves in years, or maybe you find $20 on the street like a veritable Charlie Bucket but instead of buying a Wonka Bar you head into a this fantastic artisan coffee shop on the rich side of town, a place that everyone always raves about on Instagram, just so you can try an expensive latte with hand-ground beans and flavors you’ve never heard of before--because don’t you deserve a treat, for once?

Whatever it is, wherever it is, Hugh Ransom Drysdale is waiting inside and sees you there.

And oh my God is it obvious that you’re out of place right off the bat. I mean, what the hell is someone like you doing in this part of town?

With your worn out clothes that are worn from necessity and not from being fashionably thrifted and your ratty purse stuffed with papers and candy wrappers that spill out when you dig in for your card or cash and your winter boots that you’ve probably worn 5 years in a row, ripped in the hell and patched with black tape that you hope people don’t notice.

It becomes even more obvious that you’re out of your element when something goes wrong. The gift card isn’t activated. The $20? A fake, probably a movie prop that blew in the wind. Whatever goes wrong, it means that you’re suddenly at the register, impatient people with real money tapping their expensive shoes behind you, unable to pay. You’re left standing there like a deer in headlights, unsure of what to do or say.

Normally he might just roll his eyes and remind himself that people like you ought to stick to your own shops, your own place. But something about the way your eyes go all downcast and you seem to shrink down in embarrassment makes him take pity on you. Like a stray cat in the alley hoping someone will toss it some scraps.

So he strides up and flicks out a card and hands it to the cashier, dropping a friendly greeting to them because he spends like crazy and they probably know him by name at this place, and he’s the one who hands you your coffee or your bag and your hands touch ever so briefly during the exchange.

He leads you away from the register--don’t want to piss off the spoiled debutantes and assistants on lunchtime coffee runs--and you stammer out a thank-you-thank-you and you promise you’ll pay him back as soon as you can and Jesus Christ, isn’t that just adorable? Someone like you, some lost kicked puppy who can’t even afford new boots, promising to pay him back?

He doesn’t care if you pay him back, but he finds that he would like something out of this exchange, so he says that instead of paying him back you can do him the honor of going to lunch with him. His treat. 

He insists. And you can’t really say no, can you? You are hungry and he did just pay for your things and it’s the least you can do to oblige his request.

He’s not stupid. He doesn’t take you to some razzle dazzle fancy restaurant where you’ll feel embarrassed and out of place. Instead he takes you to a quiet diner, classy not greasy, where you can have an easy conversation and tell him all about yourself.

It’s funny. Normally he brings up his family name, his grandfather’s books, to women he picks up, to get them impressed and hooked and pliable. Something about you, though. Something about you is making him want to turn this into more than a lunch date and pressure for a quickie in the car to repay him. 

So he holds back to see what he can do with you on his own. No quickie in the car, but instead before he drops you off--at a bus station, you insisted--he brushes his hand over yours. Can he get your number? He swears he can feel the heat coming off your cheeks as you fumble for your phone and let him put his number in your contacts.

He waits a day, then asks you out again. Dinner, this time. He asks you if you know any good places and you recommend a dive bar that you can go to after work (because 1) schedule and 2) cheap) and shit, he’s all for it. There will be time in the future to impress you with restaurants that have dress codes instead of sticky floors. You sit close on the stools and you buy him a drink (real cute, real real cute) and just for you he keeps the baggie in his pocket there all night instead of heading to the bathroom to liven things up.

Your relationship develops with an almost shocking speed. He knows just how to reel you in. I mean--look at you. Working your ass off at some dead end job, living in an apartment so shitty it takes you almost a month before you reluctantly agree to let him see it.

He can understand, though. Because you’re not that stupid and you know he’s wealthy, even before he casually brings up his family in a “it’s no big deal but I don’t want to keep things from you because we’re getting serious” sort of way. 

You pretend to be casual about it all, but he can tell you’re suddenly wondering: why the hell would someone from this wealthy family want anything to do with me?

It’s a question Ransom asks himself a lot. He asks himself this when he’s snorting coke off another woman’s stomach (hey, you’re dating, but he’s got needs and they aren’t met with hand-holding) or when he’s eating another greasy burger at a shitty bar because you refuse to let him buy you a nice dress to wear so he can take you out somewhere fancy.

You’re not the type of person he normally goes for, not at all. He has strings of girlfriends and flings, but they all tend to fit that same cookie cutter mold: wealthy do-nothings with their parent’s credit card who want someone else to spoil them for a while, without caring who it is or what they’re like. They’re easy pickings that Ransom can burn through and then toss aside when he’s bored of them. Some of them cry but a few days later he’ll see them on someone else’s arm, it’s the circle of life.

With you, though, there’s more. You don’t expect him to pay for dates or anything at all (even when he wants to spoil you a bit) and you have actual conversations and you seem to actually give a shit about what he says and does. You argue with him, too, when he wants you to do something (just let him take you shopping, for Christ’s sake!) or he asks you to move in (again) and you say no (again). I mean, you really fight with him, spitting words and all.

And unlike his previous girlfriends, you don’t come crawling back a few hours later because you want to buy a new purse with his shiny credit card. Instead, you make him apologize first. Fuck, that’s hot. It’s also something he tucks away in the back of his mind to work on later--but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t admit that he sometimes has the overwhelming urge to push you against the wall and fuck you for the first time right after a good argument. 

But he knows that would destroy your image of him entirely, so he holds back. He’s good at crafting a version of himself that appeals to others when he has to, and you’re maybe the first person that’s been worth all the effort he’s put into you so far.

But you need a push, a push that makes it so you can’t go running back to your shithole apartment when you fight or when you question whether or no you two have a future. You do, you’re just too naive--too inexperienced with money, to say it charitably--to realize it.

So he tips off the fire marshal about your apartment building’s shoddy fire escapes and well, damn, in the process of the investigation all the little corners that your landlord has cut come crashing down. At least they were discovered before it was the building that came crashing down.

But the evacuation of the building leaves you--and countless others--high and dry. You don’t have any family in the area, and your only half ass-decent friend in the city lives in the same building but her parent’s aren’t going to let a stranger move in.

When you finally realize you have no options and call him, voice tentative and embarrassed, he knows just what to say to get you to pack your meager belongings and wait for him to pick you up. He’s no-nonsense about it. 

He knows how to avoid deflating your pride, how to keep you from deciding you’d rather stay in a shelter than take his charity. You’ll pay him back, he says, you’ll figure out a rental plan or whatever. He even teases--he’s not the best landlord, but he won’t take 2 weeks to change the toilet if you submit a maintenance request. It makes you crack a smile and bam, just like that, he knows he’s gotten in.

That night, after takeout and wine and a Netflix movie neither of you paid attention to, you fuck for the first time on his expensive sheets on his expensive bed and afterwards, when you’re both sweating and cuddling and reveling in the afterglow, he makes a note to buy you some new lingerie. 

It’s all very homey, for a while. He could do without you leaving for work and working your ass off, with your freelance shit, sometimes staying on the computer until two, three in the morning. But it’s nice to have you close all the time, available to him whenever (almost whenever) he wants. He brings home takeout and you snuggle on the couch and he finally even convinces you to go out with him to a nice restaurant wearing something he’s bought and hot damn, do you look good, head-to-toe in the clothing he’s chosen for you. Especially, later that night, in private, in the lingerie. 

Does he love you? The word hasn’t left his lips yet, hasn’t crossed yours either, but he can feel it underneath the surface. No. It’s more than love. He wants you. He wants to have you. And not just for the afternoon or the summer, but forever. 

He spins daydreams about how he’ll clean you up nice and introduce you to the family. Probably to Harlan, first, because everyone knows that’s whose opinion really matters. Harlan will like you--he would probably like you without any primping or fixing, actually, which is more than he could say for his parents or anyone else in the family. Then once you’re in, you’re in--you’ll come to family dinners and vacation retreats where people always end up in ridiculous arguments, and you two can exchange snarky comments about the family on the ride home.

And yeah, sure. You fight sometimes.

He throws out your old clothes and buys you a wardrobe befitting someone he wants to integrate into his family. You fight about that.

He makes comments about you how you should quit your job or at least try to get a degree--he’ll pay, as long as you agree to go to a university within driving distance--to work somewhere more respectable than a chain restaurant. You fight about that.

He gets pissed when you want to meet some “friends” at a bar without him, because why would you need to go anywhere without your loving boyfriend in tow, unless you were trying to flirt with someone else? You definitely fight about that.

And, okay. Maybe he’s hypocritical.

Maybe he goes out late at night when you’re stuck doing your “freelancing work” and he’s in a rotten mood about it, and he ends up on the floor of a swanky club with drugs in his system and lipstick on his neck. He doesn’t come home until the next morning and you’re pissed and red-eyed and arguing with him, accusing him even, but you have no shitty apartment to stomp back to anymore so you’re stuck. 

Until you’re not stuck. Until he casually snoops through your phone and sees that you’re looking up cheap-ass apartments and hey, you’ve already booked a few interviews already. The thought of you slipping through his fingers makes him more sober than he’s been in a while. He’s got to do something. Not to himself, of course. But to you. To keep you with him.

It’s easy enough to get you fired. He’s a ‘Thrombey’ after all, and some nice crisp bills anonymously sent to the right hands is all it takes for you to come home one night, cheap mascara (he notes: buy you some better quality makeup soon) running down your cheeks. Your freelancing isn’t nearly enough to get you into an apartment.

He assumes that you’ll give up on the idea after losing your job, but you’re nothing if not stubborn (one of the reasons why he likes you) so you start the job hunt the next morning, fresh mascara in place. 

Damn, do you keep him busy. Anonymous calls. Cash in nice white envelopes. Rejection after rejection. You get so sad, so depressed. You don’t even want to go out to restaurants, so he orders in and you snuggle in his lap while he feeds you bites of orange chicken and rubs your back. It almost brings you two closer again, starts to mend the rifts that began when you refused to get over his occasional late night out.

But then you break the uneasy mending by snooping and woah, you don’t like what you find on his phone. 

You fight. 

Damn, do you fight. This time there’s no pretense of potential forgiveness as you begin wildly throwing your clothes into your ratty duffel bag from the back of the closet, telling him to fuck off fuck off fuck off, telling him he’s crazy, telling him that what he’s doing is fucking illegal and--

It’s the shock that hurts you the most.

The shock you feel when he grips your wrist hard and pushes back on your shoulder when you try to yank away, pushing you against the wall with a hard thud. It’s like having a rug pulled out from underneath your feet when you feel a slight ache in your back, on your shoulders, when you tell him to Let go, goddamn it and he only pushes back harder to keep you in place. It’s Ransom. It’s Ransom who’s doing this.

His voice feels unrecognizably cold when he leans in and hisses in your ear.

“You think you can just leave me? After all I’ve done for you? Let me tell you something--you won’t get another job within one hundred miles of here, within one thousand miles of here, unless I say you can. So just put your clothes back in the closet, chill the fuck out, and stop being such an ungrateful bitch.”

It’s the shock that makes you numbly hang your clothes back up in the closet, fold them again with shaking hands, and sit on the bed until the dam breaks and you cry.

And oh fuck, he’s sorry. Really. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and then he’s the one who’s crying and confessing that he didn’t want you leave him because yeah, he knows he’s a fuck up, he knows he’s got a drug problem, but he loves you. 

It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud. He loves you. “I love you,” he says, again and again, half-laughing.  And he tells you you’re the only person he’s ever dated that made him want to be a better person but he doesn’t know how.

You don’t know what to say because maybe you do love him--but he hurt you and got you fired, but the tears on his face seem so genuine and he tells you he’ll never, ever hurt you like that again and fuck, he says, if you want to go get a job he’ll drive you to the interview right now just-let-him-blow-his-nose-first-please.

You make him sit down and then you’re the one apologizing and the rest of the afternoon is a shaky truce between you two as you drink hot chocolate and order in takeout and watch a movie together.

It’s not until you’re both under the sheets, satisfied and then showered, that you think about what he did to you in a clearer light. The thoughts weigh heavy on your mind, pulling and tugging. You think you might love him. He hurt you. He took care of you when no one else would. He cheated on you. 

I love you, he tells you, when your mind is starting to tug itself into sleep.

He hit you. He said he was sorry.

He hit you.

[ladyideal]

Valentine’s Day Drabbles

We all know what this day is all about. Lmao. While it shouldn't only be one day you should be appreciating your partner, let's do this anyways.

Star Trek:

AOS Crew: Jim, Scotty, Bones, scones x reader, mckirk x reader

Disco Crew (s2 only): Pike, Tilly

Almost Human: John Kennex

LOTR: Aragorn, Eomer, Legolas, Boromir, Haldir

The Boys: Billy Butcher, Hughie 

Marvel: Bucky Barnes, Dr. Strange, Steve Rogers (if you don’t mind me trying to write him), Stucky x reader

Rules:

Please reblog. 🙂 Share the love around.

It’s open to anyone and everyone, but it would be nice if you were following me.

I will allow anons this time. But please. One ask per person. If I get too many anon requests, I will reserve the right to write first come first serve.

Send in an ask with your prompt(s) and character/ships. If you want to suggest other characters on the list, just ask. 

If you would like a pet within the story, lemme know. I'll be forever grateful. Or if you want something specific, also put that in.

Last date to request for a drabble will be February 12th, 2021.

Mix and match, choose more than one prompt if you wish.

If you've got any questions, feel free to message me. 🙂 They’ll be all be posted on the 14th!

Prompts Below:

1. “Be mine until the end of time.”

2. “I’ve been hit with Cupid’s arrow.”

3. “Happy Valentine’s Day, from now until forever.”

4. “Only if you promise to be my valentine.”

5. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” “Um….. is that today?”

6. Preparing a special Valentine’s Day dinner together.

7. Trying to find the right words to write in a Valentine’s Day card

8. Making homemade chocolates for their beloved

9. Planning and proposing to their significant other on Valentine’s Day

10. Wearing brand new lingerie for a sexy evening together

11. Attending a Valentine’s Day party and finding an impromptu date

12. Your crush giving you advice for the night of Valentine’s Day when they think you already have another date

13. Being surprised by flowers and chocolate sent to your work from a secret admirer

14. Forgetting tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and frantically rushing out to find a last-minute gift.

15. Writing a secret love letter and leaving it on your crush’s desk

16. “Roses are red, violets are blue, all I want for this V-Day is to do you!”

17. Candy hearts

18. Roses

19. Blind date/set up by friends

20. Chocolates

21. Movie night

22. Late for a date

23. Wrong restaurant

24. Strangers alone on Valentine's day

25. Friend(s) date

26. Rained out picnic

27. Low on money/homemade date

28. Surprise date while working late

29. Forgot to get anything

30. Babysitter canceled/Family date night

31. Secret admirer/admitting a crush 

Situations:

32. Person A and Person B are friends and neither of them have a date for Valentine’s Day, so they decide to order takeout of some kind and watch a movie together. At some point, hidden feelings are revealed. 

33. “ Happy unimaginative, consumerist oriented and completely arbitrary, manipulative, and shallow interpretation of romance day.”

34. Person A has been in love with person B for years and is trying to work up the courage to ask them out on Valentine’s Day. 

35. Person A is friends with Person B and Person C and believes they belong together, so when Person A and Person B agree to set each other up on blind dates, Person A sets person B up with Person C.

36. “I know a Valentine’s Day proposal is cliche, but won’t it be romantic?”“ This Valentine’s Day is officially Pal-entine’s Day.” “ Isn’t that the emperor from Star Wars?”  

37. “I’m not good with feelings, but here goes nothing. My life sucks less with you in it.”

38. Person A plans the most romantic day ever, not realizing Person B hates Valentine’s Day. 

39. Valentine’s Day break up.

40. “ I don’t even want to hear about Valentine’s Day, okay? The love of my life is dead.” 

41. “This holiday is so pointless.”

42. “Do you maybe want to go to the Valentine’s dance with me??

43. Person A and Person B were going to have the most amazing date ever, but there was a snowstorm and now they’re stuck at home. 

44. “You still have your Christmas lights up? It’s February! Get your life together!”

45. Person A and Person B have to spend Valentine’s Day apart. 

46. “What? I do not like him/her/them! We’re just friends.”

47. “Wow, you suck at flirting.”

48. Person A is stood up for a date. Person B, who is secretly in love with them, does everything in their power to cheer them up. 

49. Quarantine Valentine’s Day. 

50. Person A and Person B debate which fictional couple they would be. And there was only one bed! 

51. Person A doesn’t know Person B and Person C are together, until Person C walks into Person B’s room on Valentine’s Day without knocking. 

52. Person A sets up a romantic scavenger hunt for Person B. 

53. Person A is late for a date with Person B. 

54. Person A accidentally buys Person B a gift they are allergic to. 

55. A carriage ride at sunset. 

56. “Hey, we should play spin the bottle!”

57. A date gone horribly wrong. 

58. “I need help picking an outfit for a date tonight.”

59. Person A and Person B make a bet. If Person B loses, they have to go on a date with Person A. 

60. Stargazing.

61. “I got a new dress. Do you like it?” “I’ll like it better when it’s on my floor.”

62. Medieval royalty romance AU

63. Person B is in love with Person A, who agreed to go out with Person C for Valentine’s Day. 

64. Romantic getaway.

65. Personalized candy hearts. 

66. Person A and Person B are on a date when they run into Person A’s ex.

67. Person A confesses their love to Person B, who does not return their feelings.

68. Person A and Person B decide to platonically go on a date. 

69. Everyone spends the whole day trying to get Person A and Person B together. 

70. Person A and Person B get into a situation in which they think they are going to die, so they pour their hearts out only to be rescued at the last minute. 

71. First Valentine’s Day as a married couple. 

72. Person A tries to prove they aren’t in love with Person B by setting Person B up on a date. 

73. A picnic in the park, but it’s snowing. 

74. Person A gives Person B a romantic gift and Person A vows to keep it forever. 

75. Caught cheating on Valentine’s Day. 

76. First kiss. 

77. “This has been terrible, but at least I’m with you.”

78. Person A has a surprise planned and Person B is dying to know what it is.

79. Person A and Person B are on a date and discover Person C and Person D have secretly been together for months. 

80.  Cupid’s arrow

81. Getting stood up on Valentine’s Day

82.  Watching the one you love on a date with another

83.  Pinky promise me forever

84.  Massages

85.  Open prompt

Credit prompts to @vv-writing-prompts​, @writing-prompts-list​, & @im-the-letter-t​

[selfcareparker]

Sugarpie [p.p]

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

summary: You and Peter decide to spend Valentine‘s day together - as friends, though the lines between friendship and something more start to become a little blurry…

warnings: smut, puns about buns (omg-), swearing, I didn‘t realise until now but kind of parallels to the fic ‘Deja Vu‘ with Tom that I wrote??

word count: 3.5k

(x) ♡  Masterlist

Peter’s nervous. Would you tell him? Would Peter know if you already had a date for Valentine’s? He’s asked Mj and she said he was being ridiculous.

Here goes nothing-

Peter walks over to your locker where you’re standing, looking pretty as ever.

“Hey, Peter. Happy Valentine’s!” You say, hugging him for a hello.

Of course you had to bring up that it’s Valentine’s Day - will it be too obvious if he asks now? He’s not going to wait another year for the next V-day when you’ll have been scooped up by some other guy who - just like Peter - has realised how amazing you are.

“What are you doing after school… wanna hang out?”

“I was planning on baking cookies.” You tell him and Peter mentally slaps himself. He should have known that you already have a date, why did Mj tell him you were free today?

“Oh, okay, that’s fine. Sorry, I should’ve known you’re already busy with someone else. Want to hang out during the weekend, then?” Peter tries to save the situation and not to embarrass himself.

“Wait, no, no!” You laugh, grazing his arm, “I meant, I, alone, am going to bake cookies tonight, but you can join me. We can just hang out.”

Just hanging out today was not Peter’s plan, but it’s better than nothing.

“Oh, sure, cool. Should I bring some ingredients for the cookies? Oh- and I have to warn you, I have no baking skills, whatsoever.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you. And we can go buy all the food together, yeah? I need about an hour after our last lesson and then we can meet up.”

“Sounds good.”

*

“So, I got you a little gift. I walked past it in a shop after school and I thought it was quite funny.” You tell Peter while you’re on your way to buy the ingredients for your cookies and reach into your bag.

What, you got Peter something… Like for Valentine’s? 

Peter was actually thinking about buying you flowers or something but a, he was busy showering and by the time that he was finished you texted him asking if you could meet to go shopping, and b, you clearly only saw today as ‘hanging out’ - as friends - and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with romantic gestures that were uncalled for.

“The shop had loads of cards, and I think this one was the funniest.” You pull out a Valentine’s Card with a pizza on it, and a white font saying ‘I wanna pizza dat ass’. Wait you want a piece of Peter’s ass? O-kay.

“That’s funny, thanks. I didn’t get you anything though.”

“Oh don’t worry, this was, like, one dollar. There was another one with a picture of a rollercoaster that said, ‘So excited to ride you’, but I thought that was a little too aggressive to give to an unassuming, male, pubescent friend.” You laugh and Peter agrees, it would have been weird… or it would’ve given him false hopes at least… 

If you actually meant you wanted to ride him, that would have been quite beautiful actually.

He realises he’s been stuck in thought for too long but luckily you change the topic from wanting to ride him- uh- buying him a card, as a joke, about wanting to ride him, to the cookies you’ll be making.

-

“There’s something else you can ride.” Peter doesn’t know why he brings the joke up again, as he points to the shopping carts in front of the supermarket.

“Ha ha.” You say, “How about you ride it?”

“I’m sure it’ll break if you push me in it.” Peter argues, raising his eyebrows.

“You’re getting in.” He does as you say, and minutes later you’re pushing Peter - who is much heavier than you thought, if you’re honest - through the aisles and you’re both laughing your heads off until you nearly crash Peter into a wall, and you decide it’s better if you both just walk.

“I think we’ve got everything.” You check the recipe, when Peter throws another thing into the cart.

“Candy hearts. We can use them to decorate our cookies.” Peter comments and you look at them, “Cute.”

Peter makes you wait outside of the shop after you’ve paid because he claimed he had to buy something in secret.

What is this boy on about? Had you weirded him out by your joke about riding him? That’s just your type of humour and you thought he would find it funny too. You hope he’s really just buying something and not trying to get away from you.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you see him walk out of the shop, carrying something behind his back.

“I don’t think you can have a piece of my ass, that sounds painful. But you can still have a different piece of me.” He smiles and pulls out one of those candy necklaces, looping it around his neck and he passes you your own.

Without warning you take a step closer to Peter and pull slightly at his necklace, attaching your teeth to one of the sweets and from afar Peter’s sure it could look like you’re kissing his neck.

You pull away, “You taste good.” Oh God why is Peter making this harder for himself?

*

You end up going to Peter’s place because May isn’t home yet and you say your parents would be annoying at home.

The first load of cookies is finished surprisingly quick and you also realise you’ve made more than you could eat even on a hungry day. You decide to go give some to your friends, Mj, Ned and Betty, who you’re sure are also spending Valentine’s together.

You go to Mj’s first, and when she opens the door she shushes you two, “Wait don’t say anything!” You and Peter look at each other confused, 

“Let me guess, so you two are spending Valentine’s together because you’ve finally realised that you belong together, and now you’re bringing me cookies to thank me because I’ve always said you’d make a cute couple.” Mj gets herself to smile, takes the cookies from your hands and leaves you standing there perplexed, shutting the door.

You wish what she said was true - obviously Peter doesn’t feel that for you though.

Before either of you have the chance to say something to make this even more awkward you make your way over to Ned and Betty’s.

“Have a nice Valentine’s day, you lovebirds.” Betty winks.

“Yes! And thanks for the cookies!” Ned agrees, casting a look you don’t understand at Peter.

Betty knows about your crush on Peter.

Ned knows about Peter‘s crush on you, which you obviously don‘t know, so the whole situation is just awkward but you and Peter, again, escape quickly.

*

“Why does everyone think we’re together?” You question, but Peter doesn’t know either.

“I have no idea, but if a girl as pretty as you was together with a nerd like me, I’m sure my dick game would really have to be on point.”

“Well, is it?”

He laughs, “I wouldn’t think so, you’re looking at a first-class virgin.”

“I don’t see a mirror anywhere.” He picks up on your joke and smiles at the fact that you haven’t been in any relationships Peter didn’t know about.

You’ve nearly finished the second raw load of cookies, “I’ll let you do the honours.”

You pass Peter the candy hearts to press into the cookie dough and he distributes them evenly. He has one left and passes it to you, ‘Love you’, it says on the candy.

“Love you too, sugar pie.” You tell Peter, reading more words from the candy conversation hearts. Not knowing what you’re referring to, Peter chokes on his water, spilling it over himself, but since you’re standing so close it mostly gets on you and your white shirt that immediately becomes see-through.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorr- woah what are you wearing underneath that?” His eyes go wide once he takes in the red lace peeking through from underneath your clothes.

“Oh, I, uh… underwear?”

“So you just wear stuff like that everyday?” Peter’s caught on to the fact that the red lace isn’t necessarily suitable for everyday use.

“Well it is Valentine’s day.”

“Who are you wearing it for then?” Peter hopes he doesn’t sound as jealous as he is at the thought of you wearing that for another guy, even if you just told him you’d never had sex and his fear is irrational.

“Just for myself. I couldn’t resist all the online offers so I thought I’d treat myself to something - it really didn’t matter I was going to be the only one to see it. I’ve been lifting my shirt every time I’ve passed a mirror today though.”

He nods, still staring.

“You wanna see?” You aks randomly.

His body isn‘t listening to his brain and so Peter just nods.

You pull your wet shirt over your head, revealing the lingerie and more bare skin than Peter’s ever seen of you.

You know you look good and although Peter’s eyes on you make you shy, the look in them is most definitely positive.

“Uh, you also spilled some on my pants so…” You look at Peter, slowly pulling down your pants in the sexiest way you can muster even when you have to shimmy your hips a little to pull your ankles out the bottom of your jeans, and Peter’s wide eyes are telling you he likes it. He’s looking at you like you’re walking the catwalk right now.

“I’m not gonna lie, you look extremely sexy right now.” Peter compliments, fiddling with his shirt.

“You know how you gave me a gift - the card I mean - I didn’t get you anything.”

“You gave me this candy necklace.” You draw your eyebrows together.

“Yeah, but you paid for all of the stuff for the cookies so I still kind of owe you, I should give you something.”

“Well, what do you have in mind?”

-

Peter’s sitting on the floor in front of your bed, head peeking out from between your knees.

“So you’re sure about this?” He asks, stroking your leg.

“Yeah, just give me a second, won’t be long.”

You stumble to the bathroom just to think clearly about this situation. You freshen up a bit, looking at your reflection and you can absolutely understand why Peter offered to eat you out.

You come to the conclusion that, right now, there’s absolutely nothing you want more, than Peter’s tongue between your legs.

You skip back into Peter’s room and sit on the bed, he’s leaning against his nightstand, looks up at you, “So, are we still doing this?”

“Yes, but are you sure you want to do it too?”

“Absolutely.” He answers and then shoots up, “Wait, I haven’t washed my hands.” He runs to the bathroom and you wonder whether it’s really just to wash his hands or if he’s doing the same thing you just did.

You know he’s also sure he’s up to doing this when you hear his hasty steps getting closer to you, and your hands already wander down your panties, making you even wetter than you already are.

He’s breathing hard when he kneels down in front of you again, staring at the hand under your panties and you giggle.

“Relax, Peter.” You smile at him, brushing a hand through his hair.

“I wanna make you feel good now.” He says, determined, grabbing both your legs to spread them further.

“Off to a good start.” You pull your wet fingers from your underwear and promptly pull your panties to the side to reveal to Peter how wet just the thought of him has made you.

You let go of the fabric and it falls back into place and Peter glances up at you, asking to see again, though still nervous.

“Don’t worry, Peter, you’ve done something right already, and you haven’t even done anything yet, so? You wanna… maybe - start?” You lift your legs off the floor and with your help he pulls off your panties and then your bra and boy looks like he’s staring at a goddess, his breathing becoming uneven again.

“Calm down, it’s okay, we can talk. I’ll tell you what I like.”

“How do I start?” He asks.

You use two fingers to spread your lips and put a finger on your clit, “You start here - either with your finger or-” a breath that’s actually more of a moan leaves your mouth when Peter’s tongue is suddenly on your clit, “-tongue.” you finish.

Though how his tongue concentrates directly on your little button feels good, it won’t be enough to get you to cum.

“You can move a bit more, bit further down and up again, oh, yes.”

After not too long he finds the perfect pace and where exactly to touch you to make you feel good. You moan out Peter’s name when you climax.

“Fuck.” You both say at the same time.

And Peter still thinks you look so effortlessly beautiful, in all your naked glory, trying to even out your breathing.

You think of just leaning down and kissing him. That should be fine after what he just did, right?

He’s looking up at you and you move closer but you realise the front door has just opened and you can hear May’s voice from the other room.

Peter jumps up and you scramble to get on a shirt of Peter’s while he says hi to his aunt, making sure she won’t pick up on what her nephew just did to you.

“Oh that smells nice.” May compliments once she gets to the kitchen.

“Yeah, we were just baking cookies, like I told you, but then I accidentally spilled some water so we just went to my room and I gave her one of my shirts.” Peter reports, he’d texted May earlier that his plan to ask you out on a date for Valentine’s hadn’t exactly worked but you were still hanging out together to bake.

You hurry to the kitchen in Peter’s ‘I survived my trip to New York’ shirt to greet May. Whenever he’s wearing that shirt he looks like a shapeless potato - which doesn’t matter because they’re pyjamas - but you look so fucking cute it should be illegal.

He doesn’t know if it’s a curse or a blessing that May keeps you two occupied the whole time, making conversation and helping you with the rest of the cookies.

You hum once you taste the sugary heaven on your tongue, saying how good the cookies taste, and Peter’s eyes on you tell you that you still tasted better.

By the time that May finally gives you two some time alone it’s so late that you have to leave and the situation from earlier doesn’t come up again.

*

“So. Valentine’s Day last week was nice.” Peter whispers to you during your lunch break.

“Yeah - what part?” By the way you’re raising your eyebrows and smirking, Peter knows you’re on the same page - you might not talk about your actual feelings, but you’re not going to pretend the sexual encounter, which you both thoroughly enjoyed, didn’t happen.

“The part in my bed.”

“Not quite sure what you mean - care to elaborate?” You rest your jaw against your hand, arm propped up on the table, your elbow grazing Peter’s.

“The part where I gave you,” he forms the next part as more of a question, “one of the best orgasms of your life?”

“Not just one of the best.” You assure him and Peter grins, and you’re calm, cool and collected again, “Yeah, I remember that. What about it?”

“Well I thought maybe, if you want, then we could um, repeat it.” Peter proposes.

“Yes. And what about if this time I help you out instead?”

“You don’t have to do that, I mean I really had fun last time, so I’d like to make you feel good again.”

“‘M not going to argue with that.”

That day you’re alone at your home and with a little help from your vibrator, Peter has you undone in less than two minutes.

You wouldn’t admit it, but you’ve never been as wet as with him.

*

Under the pretext of ‘hanging out’, you’re at Peter’s place again a few days later and he’s inching closer and closer to you in his already small bed and his intentions are clear.

“You wanna… you know, go again?” He asks you.

“Well, I’m on my period right now, so we can finally focus on you and I can take care of you.”

“No, you don’t have to.”

“Why not?” You urge, “I don’t have to, and I’ll accept if you don’t want me to. But can you at least tell me why? I’ve offered it to you like three times and every time you said no. Is it because of me? Am I not attractive enough for you to get off to-”

“What? Nonono, it’s nothing like that at all.”

“What is it then?” You take his hand and he opens up to you.

“Well, when I’m going down on you, I really enjoy it. I mean your body is so sexy and feminine… and your pussy - well, what I’m trying to say is, you’re beautiful and even just the thought of you - I could get off to that. But I know that most girls don’t like… dick as much as guys like pussy so, yeah.” He shrugs.

“I don’t understand. Are you telling me you’re self-conscious about your dick?” You manage not to laugh, he’s worn grey sweatpants around you when he wasn’t hard, so you can only dream of how big he’ll be then.

“Don’t laugh, and I don’t necessarily mean the size I guess, but I just know you wouldn’t enjoy it as much as I enjoy going down on you.”

“But it’s not just about me liking your dick. And, sure I might not want a picture of your cock as my phone wallpaper, but I can guarantee you I don’t exactly mind helping you out.

And anyway, it’s not about that. It’s about trusting someone enough to see you so vulnerable, and to touch you and please you. And to want to please you. And I want that, to please you, I mean. But only if you’ll let me.”

“Of course.” Peter’s still only sitting next to you. He’s kissed the most intimate parts of your body, but not the lips on your face yet. And finally, you lean in to him, connecting your lips to his, in a soft kiss.

It just lasts a few seconds before it’s over.

You feel his muscles contract under your hands and his cock twitches once you reach his pants.

It’s only a few minutes later, and you’ve ended up beyond turned on, Peter with white, sticky streaks on his stomach, your hands covered too, and a cock that’s already hard again.

It’s a long night before he’s finally satiated, but it’s more than worth it.

*

The next weekend, and you’re hanging out with Peter again- this far it’s seriously only been hanging out.

You’re lying together on your bed, both listening to music, sharing memes and videos, when you decide you can’t go on like this anymore.

You put your phone aside and Peter does the same, waiting for what you have to say, but when he glances at your neck and he says something after all.

“You still have that candy necklace?”

“Yeah - you gave it to me, of course. The candy can last up to five years before expiring, and I’ll have eaten all of them before that, for sure.”

He smiles, “I ate mine the first day I bought it.” And there’s silence again.

“Peter?”

He turns to his side, kissing your mouth but you stop the kiss, laughing into his mouth.

“I, I was actually going to ask; what is this between us?”

“Oh,” he sighs, “whatever you want this to be, I guess.”

“So... friends?” It‘s not a suggestion of yours, but a worry about what Peter wants from you.

“If this,” his fingers pass the waistband of your panties and find your clit immediately, and you gasp, “-if this is what friends do and as long as I‘m the only friend you do this with, sure - friends.”

You sit up, trying to disregard how you’re already wet. “Wait so you... you want to be like, exclusive?”

“I do, yeah. I want it to be just you and me, if you want the same.”

“Yeah I wanna do that - be that - whatever. I want the same, Peter.” You kiss him, passionately for the first time.

“I’m so glad - I really can’t even stand the thought of you with another guy.” He mumbles against your neck.

“Didn’t want to see you with another girl either.”

“Don’t worry, I only want you.”

“Peter?”

“Hm?”

“I wanna pizza dat ass.”

[likesomekindofcheese]

We are all fools in love (Queen One-shot for LOC event)

Pairing: Roger Taylor x fem! Reader

Word Count: 2115

Summary: Roger Taylor’s your best friend...but looks like the band may need to give you a little push and you both need to admit the truth. Some good ol’ Friends to Lovers.

A/N: Hello @39-ers​! Here I am- your Secret Santa revealed!!Here is my gift to you for @dtfrogertaylor​ Level of Concern Event! It was fun to write and it was wonderful to get to know you- I hope you enjoy it!!! Also shout out to my beta @spicyspideyme​! for your quick eye and generous input!!

cw: swearing, smoking, bits and hints about sex (but no actual smut), and mentions of fictional violence. Freddie being the matchmaker like he always is in my fics. Matchmake me plz Freddie

“We’re gonna hold hands, but we aren’t together together!” Roger insisted as you walked through the park.

“How come?” you asked.

The autumn breeze chilled you a bit. A couple leaves fell right before your feet. Stepping on them, there was a satisfying crunch that made you smile. A few park workers were taking away the pumpkins for Halloween festivities and replacing them with banners promoting bonfires for November.

“Because I just don’t want you to get lost! This is a bloody huge city! And the crowds are big!” Roger explained, he waved his arms around the place.

The band and you had hit the dry hours. Other than a few workers, you barely saw a soul.

“I think you forgot…I live in this city. Same as you!” you retorted.

Roger shrugged, scratching the back of his head.

“I just want you to be safe!” he cried.

“Well if it makes you feel like I will be safe, I’ll do it” you said.

Pouting slightly, you accepted his large, smooth hand and continued your walk. 

Though the other three just keep laughing in the back at you two making little fusses just like that, eyeing each other at the odd comment and mouths tight shut to keep themselves from laughing.

“It’s like they’re married already,” Brian observed, tightening his red scarf.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but…something has got to got to happen…” John commented.

Freddie waited until you and Roger were far enough away and then turned to the others.

“I’m sick of it! And they are sick of it too! You see it- of all of the sweet glances when the other one isn’t looking! And I’m so fucking sick of hearing Roger keep talking until the cows come home about “how bloody lovely y/n is,” or “y/n did this and it’s amazing! No one’s as smart as y/n!’” he added, lifting his voice up a few pitches to mimic Roger’s.

“Are you lost or what!?” you called behind, looking at the three.

Without another word, Fred led the way quietly for the rest of the walk. But his mind was restless.

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

Roger insisted on visiting the vintage shop with you by his side the next day. Not that much had changed in a day, you said. He refused to hear of it.

Opening the door, you were greeted by a retail worker who pointed you to the rack of sale items. There was the smell of old leather and furs already deep in your nose as you noticed a coat from at least the forties. 

This is Perfect.

You perused prices, ranging from the extreme to the frugal. 

But Fred, knowing you both visited regularly, came in. He stayed away, half hiding behind some blue dresses at least a decade old. 

“Doing anything Sunday, Rog?” you asked.

“I’ve got nothing on Sunday, Sundays are always boring!” he complained.

He stared in shocked awe at a garish orange blouse with ruffles on it before moving to the next item.

“Rog, I think Sundays are nice! They’re quiet, peaceful…”

“Ha! You think! It’s too bloody quiet and only the church is open,” he interjected.

Turning your head, you folded your arms crossly.

“Sunday’s are nice, Rog!” 

One certain outfit caught your eye when you noticed the mannequin, but checking the price tag you shook your head and let out a small sigh.

“Wanna bet!?” Roger said, offering a hand to you with a smile.

Fred stifled a laughter following the ridiculous little bout. He even bent his legs to hide deeper behind the fifties dresses with starched, crinoline skirts.

“No, no need to bet. There are horror movies that come on Sunday night, I’ll show you! You know how much I love horror movies!” you begged.

Roger’s eyes lit up and he blinked. Then his smile returned rather than his immature pout.

“Really, what channel?”

“Rog, you really have to know. Do you really just go to bars and clubs on Sundays? Just get drunk?”

‘Well, at least they aren’t boring, Y/N!” he argued.

Rolling your eyes, you walked over to where there were pants for women. But you couldn’t help but smile. Roger was an intelligent man. He was just an intelligent man with the instincts of a child sometimes. Secretly it always charmed you.

“Whatever just come over. And don’t get drunk. Not yet,” you said.

Freddie had a deep smile on his lips. He stayed hiding in the shop until you both left. He looked right at the outfit you were eyeing.

This is perfect he thought.

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

On Sunday afternoon, there is a red blouse and the nicest pair of pants you had ever seen on your bed, laid out, fresh from the vintage shop. 

Your jaw dropped and you held back a small scream at the sight. The shirt you found was a blouse: smooth as silk. The pants fitted you perfectly: lighter colored with a subtle pattern.Walking in front of the mirror, you looked nicer than you ever had before.

Next to where your clothes had been was on a small piece of paper with typewriting on it:

“Thought you’d like it! Please wear tonight! MY gift! XXXX- Rog” 

“Well…it’s not too girly and it’s not racy at all…but I better put on a jacket to make it safe.”

Biting your lip, you looked at it in the mirror, examining every inch.

But no. Roger could not have meant it. Not for you at least. You knew there had to be some girl. He would buying lingerie for her. There were always crowds of women after him at parties. He was always calling women up and talking to them. 

“There’s just some chick he’s crazy about and he isn’t telling me because he doesn’t want to make it weird…or maybe he’s really into Fred or John or something.”

The thought always made you sad.

“Still, wouldn’t hurt to doll up though, especially if he asked for it…” you thought, feeling that brief glimmer of hope in your belly.

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

As Roger sat in his home, reading while smoking his cigarette like a meditation, there was a sudden knock on the door.

“I’m back already!” Fred announced, slightly muffled from the door blocking the way.

When he walked over, Roger could barely breathe a hello when Fred leaned over closely, taking in a large whiff.

“Oh! You’re smoking! I’m dying for one myself- let’s go out!” he announced, his ringer hand grabbing Roger’s arm.

“It’s fine in here, why?” 

Freddie flashed his full smile and waved away the apartment entrance. Though at the force Roger was being pulled out it was as if he didn’t have a choice

“Well, darling, you don’t need the landlord on your neck for any reason: and it’s lovely tonight! Moon and stars and all that!” he declared.

They wandered out, talking about everything in between blowing out grey smoke. Though Freddie was changing subjects fast and talking a mile a minute, even for Roger’s standards. But he kept up. 

Until he heard her. Y/N’s footsteps and their certain rhythm.

You saw your friends on the side of the block, right outside the flat complex. Finally, you walked up in a light coat, a little odd from the feeling of the outfit. 

Oh God, I’ve known both of them for years…why am I suddenly feeling so odd? I look…I must look like a groupie to them, not myself.

“Oh, Y/N! How are you, dear?” Freddie greeted, waving his arms up.

Waving back, you gave him a small hug. Right as you greeted Roger, you heard Freddie ring out from behind you.

“Have to head out! I’ve got to meet someone for a drink- a sudden date, you would say! Farewell, loves! I’ll return later, Rog!”

He was practically waltzing away from the two of you. There was a pause. The breeze picked up and you held your coat tighter for warmth.

“S’bloody cold, Y/N, let’s go in,” Roger offered. 

He walked into the complex to where his door was. As he took out his key to the door, you began to talk, albeit shyer than usual.

“By the way, thank you for the gift.”

Roger turned to you, head tilted and squinting.

“Huh? What gift?” he asked.

As his key went in, he noticed it was already unlocked. Barely shrugging it off, he opened the door.

It was filled with candles and roses. 

You both gasped, a little shocked and smiling. Though your insides felt like butter. There was distant patter of footsteps a few feet away, like a small stampede of horses. But when you glanced out to the other doors there was no one.

“Roger, it…it looks beautiful!” you praised.

“Why it…it does, but Y/N…I didn’t do it,” he confessed.

He looked down and scratched his head. His cheeks were the color of the rose petals.

“What, really?” you asked.

As you took off your jacket casually to hang it up in the coat closet, Roger kept staring at your outfit. Now his whole face matched the roses.

“That’s…pretty weird. But…nice of them. The boys, I mean.”

“I just got this outfit with a card saying it was from you,” you recalled.

Roger huffed and scuttled over to the chairs and turned the knob on his tv set. He continually checked his watch to be safe for the time.

“Anyway, uh, films on, let’s��let’s watch it!” he blubbered.

 And the mysterious gifts and their origin were left ignored. 

Roger folded his arms and tried his best to stare at the movie best he could, biting back almost a laugh or even a smile.

But as the killer in the movie was revealed, stabbing his screaming victims, you felt Roger’s eyes continually wander to you. First in flutters. Then in glances. Then in staring. You knew because everything you looked up briefly at him, his yellow head turned away.

Both of you sat still. Neither one asked the other for a drink or a snack or anything as the movie went on.

“You do look, really…really nice Y/N,” he complimented.

Your head flipped over. The breath in you stopped and you felt it suddenly flush back in, going a little dizzy.

“I mean, you’ve always looked nice and I swear, I never really…you just look especially nice tonight!” he clarified.

Smiling, you mumbled a thank you, while looking down at your lap.

As the movie went on, you both relaxed a little more. Your shoulders dipped down. A natural grin let up your face. You saw one on Roger as well.

Roger’s hand moved closer. Inch by inch. Then you felt it over yours.

Sweating, you accepted it. Although now the sudden threat of a masked serial killer that lurked in the night was nothing compared to your reality.

You scooted closer to Roger. He scooted closer in kind.He looked into your eyes. You looked in his. 

“Roger…I…just…I just…” you blubbered, words running out before you could stop them.

“What is it?” he asked.

Now they dashed out as quick as the breaking of a dam.

“I’ve always liked you but…liked liked you- oh god, I must sound like a kid.”

“You don’t, you…you actually make perfect sense!” Roger answered, he began to chew his lower lip.

“What d’you mean?”

“I…I’ve loved you! It sounds ridiculous coming out of me- I am not a sap! I swear! I hate sappy things! But, but-but I’ve always wanted to just scream it from the top of some hill- I love you!” he confessed.

He put a hand against your face, gently caressing it. You leaned in closer to it, almost shivering from the sensation. Softly, Roger leaned forward too.

“Oh, for god’s sake,” he cursed right before tilting his head and kissed you.

It was wet and you could taste the chicken he ate and the strong tobacco from the smoking. He was so close, and so warm, with the smell of sweat and shampoo. You felt your hands go over his arm, pulling him closer. 

You pulled away, and then you went in for another kiss, to make sure it was all real. His hands went to your back and pressed you against him closer. You were one mind and flesh for only a few seconds. Both of you pulled away briefly. There were a few soft chuckles released with a puff of released breath. He then pressed a forehead to yours. Your eyes closed for a second, feeling it, taking it all in. The two of you were breathing in unison, feeling that space between you that was desperate to be filled back again, to finally disappear.

Meanwhile outside, Freddie only leaned against a stoplight, barely looking at the window of the place. Brian and John stood by him, with their hands in their pockets. Seeing the light go out in Roger’s place, they all knew their job was done and they left to celebrate.

Taglist: @queenlover05​ @stardust-killer-queen​

[nat-roman0ff]

beep beep

beep beep

-

shawn gets lost in a parking garage and you’re lucky (or unlucky) enough to have to help him.

words: 1,839

warnings: aggressive paps, car alarms and lost pop stars. 

-

Your arms are weighed down by the amount of bags in your hands and roped around your arms. Being a personal shopper for the super rich around the holidays for some extra cash was starting to become more of a burden than it was worth. 

 But at least you’ll never have to do arm day in the gym ever again. 

 The parking garage is full of fancy cars and SUVs and your beat up Camry sits amongst them like a rotten dandelion in a rose garden. There’s some commotion as you come out of the elevator, a pap stalking some celebrity asking him questions. This wasn’t an unusual sight in Los Angeles, but you always felt a pang of sorriness for whoever was being harassed. 

 You recognize him almost immediately, with his soft curly hair pulled back in a headband. Shawn Mendes. He’s even prettier in person despite the deep crease of worry between his eyebrows. He’s pacing the aisles looking at license plates with an increasing panic on his face. 

The pap continues to harass him, asking him personal questions and he laughs them off with a snarky remark or with another question. He’s good, you think. 

 “Oh my god, THERE you are!” You exclaim, giving him the eye as he passes by your car. 

 Shawn raises an eyebrow, “oh, uh, hi?” 

 You raise both eyebrows, “we found your car! Now let’s get these gifts to the children’s hospital!”

 “Oh right,” he pips and the pap finally drops their camera, “the children’s hospital. Well have a lovely day sir and tell your friends at TMZ to expect my Christmas card in the mail!” 

 The pap looks confused but shrugs, “alright man, have a good one.” 

 You and Shawn watch the man leave via the elevator and he lets out a sigh of relief and slides down the side of your car. 

 “Although I’m not sure what a child would like with a lingerie set from Victoria’s Secret I’m glad he bought it,” you pip. 

 Shawn lifts his head, “he didn’t buy it. But he wasn’t fucking leaving me alone. So thank you.”

 You nod, “you’re welcome,” you wait, and Shawn goes back to burying his hands in his face, his knees drawn up to his chest.

 “Does that happen a lot?” You ask. 

 He nods. 

 “Not much of a talker, eh?” 

 Shawn’s head perks back up, “sorry, shitty morning, worse afternoon. Then I had this guy chasing me around and now I can’t find my car.” 

 “Well,” you say, placing your hands on your hips, “how about you help me get these into my car and I’ll help you find yours?”

 He stands and reached his hand out to shake yours, “deal. I’m Shawn, by the way.”

 “I know,” you wink.

 He smirks, “of course you do. So why do you have so many bags?”

 “I’m a personal shopper. Us peasants need a side hustle to get by sometimes.”

 Shawn nods, “I get it. I had a paper route when I was thirteen.”

 “Congratulations, you’re a multimillionaire now.”

 He snorts, “touché.”

 Shawn takes care of the last few bags and slams the trunk shut. Wiping his hands together and proud of his work. 

 “So do you have any idea where your car is?” You ask. 

 He’s silent. 

 You groan, “okay so what kind of car do you have?”

 “A Range Rover.” 

 You slap your hand against your forehead, “yeah you and everyone else in LA. Alright, time to pound pavement, Mendes.”

 The two of you walk the aisles of the vast parking garage, Shawn clicking the little button every few seconds to see if he hears the locking beep. 

 “Hey what does this one do?” He asks, pointing at the bright red button on his fob. 

 You side eye him, “that’s a panic button.”

 “Oh,” he pips, “good to know.”

 You just nod and walk with him, pointing at various Range Rovers with no luck on that floor. Shawn looks down, like he’s physically here but his mind is not. It takes you saying his name a couple times before he responds when you ask questions and his replies are half hearted and soft spoken. 

 You decide to take the stairs and after about five minutes or so of uncomfortable silence Shawn finally speaks up, “I’m sorry if you think I’m like the biggest Hollywood idiot on the planet right now.”

 You shake your head, “nah, you just seem...sad? Tired? I guess. I don’t know you so I don’t want to ask questions, just want to help you get to your car.”

 “Thanks,” he smiles for the first time since you’ve met and it’s absolutely mind blowingly beautiful. 

 “Plus,” you start, “you’re famous so you can’t kill me since you’re too easy to track down. You’re like the safest stranger ever.”

 Shawn laughs, “thank you, again. I can’t believe I’m taking time out of your day for this.” 

 “It’s fine,” you shrug, “just means when we find this car you owe me big time.”

 “Oh yeah?” He says, raising an eyebrow, “what does the lady desire?”

 You ponder for a moment and your stomach growls, “food.”

 “Let me take you out for dinner then,” Shawn replies, “tonight? If you’re not busy, of course.”

 “Not so fast!” 

 His face drops. 

 “We still haven’t found your bloody car yet.”

 “Fine,” he stops you both where you’re standing, “if we don’t find my car you’re driving us to dinner.”

 “Oh, smooth.”

 —-

 You and Shawn drag your feet to yet another floor of the parking garage and groan in unison as you’re met with row upon row of tightly packed parking spaces. 

 “How fucking big is this place?” Shawn cries, throwing himself onto the concrete ground. “I give up. They can keep it. I hate that car anyways.”

 Shawn pulls himself into a ball, face pressed into his knees. His body starts to shake. Is he crying? You’re first filled with fear, and then a warm kind of sadness starts to spread. You sit down next to him on the ground and rub his back. He looks up, his face red and blotchy and his eyes wet. 

 “I’m sorry, really. This is fucking embarrassing. It’s just - I’ve - I’m...yeah.”

 “I get it. I do. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s going on?”

 He lets out a breathy laugh, “what isn’t going on?” He pauses for a few moments to allow himself to recollect, “I’m stuck in a shitty contract right now, making music I don’t want to, being turned into a brand, and I’m missing my sister’s school awards ceremony back home in Toronto because I have to be here. Doing nothing but getting chased by dudes too lazy to get a real job and losing my car in the mall parking garage.”

 You suck a stream of air through your teeth, “well that’s certainly a lot to unload.”

 “You asked,” he deadpans. 

 You nod, “very true. Okay, well. I don’t know much about the entertainment industry and contracts and such but can’t you just like, I don’t know, go home? Call out sick? You’re the star so I would think you’d have some type of holding power with that.”

 “Yes and no,” Shawn starts, “I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed. I want to wake up and go to my favorite coffee shop around the corner from my place, pet my neighbor’s dog on the way back, maybe write a couple songs and see my friends and family again.”

 “That sounds nice,” you say, resting your hand over his, “you should do that.”

 Shawn looks into your eyes and your gut tells you to kiss him but your head tells you that you sat in chewed gum. Instead of kissing you, much to your chagrin, he rests his head on your shoulder. 

 The two of you sit there for a little bit, only until the high pitched horn of a Prius scares the both of you out of it. Shawn lets out a shrill scream and you both scramble to your feet. 

 “I’ll give you $100 if you pretend you never heard that,” he says. 

 “Deal.”

 The sun is starting to set, and the glow of the lowering sun beams into the parking garage. Golden hour, it’s called. And while you watch Shawn point his fob at each passing car hoping it’s his, you think sunsets like this are made for people like him. 

 Somewhere in the distance you hear the faint beep of a car locking. You both stop dead in your tracks and look at each other. 

 “Did you?” Shawn starts and you nod. 

 He raises his keys again and hits the panic button. Off on the other side of the garage the alarm sounds and he takes off in a dead run towards it. You do the best to follow but his long legs give him an advantage. He eventually slows, holding his hand back for you to grab it so he can drag you along. 

 When you reach the car, the alarm is blaring and you’re both panting. Shawn throws his hands up in the air and sinks to his knees, “thank you baby Jesus,” he whines while trying to catch his breath.

 He gets back up and pulls you into a hug, burying his face in your neck. You hesitate for a second before hugging him back. You’d never met a stranger quite like this before, let alone had one hug you. No one at work was going to believe you on Monday when you told them the story. 

 “Time to go home,” he says when he releases you. 

 “Home home or -“

 “Want to come with me?” He asks, and doesn’t even give you a second to respond before continuing, “I’ll buy your plane ticket. Got a passport on you? Let’s just run with it.”

 The look in his eyes is of pure relief, like whatever was holed and balled up inside of him a few hours ago had passed. His eyes were wide and bright with wonderment. 

 “No,” you say, shaking your head, “go home, enjoy some family time. And call me when you get back.”

 “Fine,” he says, “but you’ll let me take you out for that dinner, yeah?” 

 You nod. 

 “Do you want a ride back to your car?” 

 You bite your lip and shake your head, scared to answer, and pointing about half a dozen cars down to yours, where the madness all started. 

 “Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me!” Shawn half yells, half laughs and the two of you just end up in hysterics over it all. 

 The sun has finally set when it’s time to say goodbye, although neither of you want to. You watch Shawn leave and smile at the thought of him being able to go home, and even more so about meeting with him again. 

 But the smile immediately drops when you reach for your phone, and realize the two of you had never exchanged numbers. 

--------

i wrote this on my phone at work today...and yes there is (probably) going to be a sequel...

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

You probably have seen me talking about Billie x Audrey before, but I would love to listen your perspective on it because you’re really great so uwu

VIVI YOURE SO SWEET AGH YOURE KILLING ME 🥰👏🏼 OKAY. So I’ve read a dabble of Billie x Audrey, but nowhere near as much as I should have. Let the record show that I’m 100% on board with this ship and the more I think about them the harder I fall for them and I had to physically stop myself writing this because I could have gone on for AGES. Anyway! Here we go —

Warning: this got out of hand very quickly. And it turned from opinions to headcanons. Sooooo yeah I’m sorry

Billie Dean x Audrey Headcanons:

Audrey is a bottom. In my mind she’s the bottomiest bottom that ever bottomed. But she’s also so bratty that she’s almost a top?? She begs. She submits. But she also has this funny little way of wrapping her partner right around her finger and always getting her way.

And Billie LIVES for it. Billie Dean Howard is so sultry that she needs a bratty bottom. Needs someone to punish and pamper and worship.

Audrey is sooo submissive when she wants to be, and Billie loves the way she whines and squirms and always has to be touching her. But she still hasn’t figured out that no matter how in charge she thinks she is, Audrey is always five steps ahead of her, ready to do or say or wear whatever is required to get exactly what she wants.

Billie loves when Audrey gets that wicked smirk. The one that means that she wants to give. And goodness, Audrey gives so generously. Don’t get me wrong, she’s bratty when she’s needy. But when she needs to watch Billie come undone, Audrey will give with everything she has and not let up until Billie is an absolute wreck. And while Billie still bosses her, Audrey has this way of making sure Billie demands exactly what she wants to give her, and once she’s sated Audrey relishes the way Billie tucks her against her chest. Always Billie’s princess. Always treasured.

And lord that accent when she’s between Billie’s legs. Billie doesn’t think she could tire of it if she tried, and it doesn’t help that when Audrey gets particularly whiney it thickens, throwing Billie back to the way Audrey sounds right before she orgasms. And it makes Billie cave faster than she can say Croatoan.

Grabby hands. And Billie’s a sucker for them. It’s honestly pathetic.

Billie’s supernatural gift always makes Audrey feel better because she knows no spirits will sneak up on her. Not with Billie around.

And Billie loves protecting Audrey. Protecting her smile and her giggle and her softness. She had heard of the Roanoke happenings, of course she had. But two weeks after meeting Audrey she had gone to the house herself, making absolute certain that she had a clear understanding of what this woman had gone through so she could keep her safe and happy and calm.

Audrey is obsessed with Billie’s nails. Absolutely enamored. She plays with them any time she can reach them, her fingers sliding over them and tracing them and pushing into the tips. And depending on her mood she will beg Billie to keep them on in bed, relishing the prick of them on her skin, pinching as they slide against her and leaving nice red marks for the next few days.

Speaking of marking... that’s Billie’s kink. Not for herself. For Audrey. She’s hard pressed to spend a night with her where she doesn’t leave at least one. And while it may seem childish to some, she loves watching Audrey on screen, catching glimpses of the very edges of those marks and knowing exactly where her mouth/nails had been the night or week or month before.

Not to mention how much of a baby boss Audrey is about her body. She tries, she really does, to tell Billie not to mark her certain places. But Billie doesn’t give two shits and she knows the magic of movie make up, so she does what she wants and marks her where she wants and Audrey just has to deal with the aftermath. But isn’t that exactly what Audrey wanted in the first place?

Billie is the ultimate yin to Audrey’s yang - Audrey’s bubbly, tongue-popping, wide-grinning personality the perfect balance to Billie’s cool, calm demeanor. Think Billie reclining in an armchair, smoking her cigarette, looking up at Audrey with those slinky eyebrows as Audrey bounces and giggles and flails around her, telling a story. And when Audrey giggles it makes Billie laugh, that deep, low laugh that always brings a flush to Audrey’s cheeks, the two sounds snaking together in perfect harmony.

Billie is possessive to a fault. There are constant demands throughout the day that leave Audrey panting the word “yours”. And when Audrey blushes, especially in public, it leaves Billie reeling. Fast and hard.

Audrey has this sneaky way of putting on her best pouty face and curling up against Billie, standing or sitting or laying or anywhere. If they’re with friends Billie has absolutely no complaints and will gladly let her sit on her lap or the arm of her chair, fingers wandering. But Audrey has this tendency to pull that face out during premieres, when there are cameras everywhere and Billie can’t do anything more than whisper promises in her ear.

They’re surprisingly good at behaving themselves in public given how quickly they’re stripped and fucking once they get through their door. But Audrey’s pout works Billie up faster than anything, and there’s usually never more than a day or two that goes by before they’re naked in bed and screaming each other’s names.

The weeks or months that they are apart because of filming, it’s Skype sex. Every night. And Audrey always buys pretty new lingerie just to taunt Billie because she can’t touch it. At least not yet.

Billie gets revenge by sending Audrey copious amounts of flowers. It’s a bit ridiculous. By the end of it, Audrey can barely walk through her trailer. She always snatches the cards off the bouquets as soon as they’re delivered and locks them away because it never fails that Billie has written the most delicious things to make her squirm with anticipation. And Audrey has too many nosy co-workers to take any chances. She would never dream of asking Billie to stop, though. The flower-filled trailer has this strange way of making Audrey feel less alone.

They tend to sync their schedules, because Audrey is just positively too needy to be apart from Billie for more than a few hours, let alone a few weeks. But sometimes it’s impossible and neither of them would ever dream of telling the other to give up a job. So they suffer through the hard stuff because it makes the being together even sweeter. And it makes the orgasms even better.

Those mornings when Audrey plods into the kitchen in Billie’s shirt from the night before and finds Billie with a cigarette between her fingers, she always gives her best puppy dog eyes until Billie lets her hop up into her lap and drag on it. And Audrey has a nasty habit of wiggling her bum as she exhales smoke. Billie’s nails are on her in a second, without fail, and Audrey pulls that lovely “innocent” smile as she quickly submits because - you guessed it - she got exactly what she wanted. Again.

Bonus: Audrey likes to steal Billie’s jewelry and pretend it’s hers. It’s gotten to the point that Billie has forgotten what’s hers and what’s not. And she loves it.

BONUS bonus: Billie calls Audrey pumpkin and it’s a LOT, okay??

[smolbeandrabbles]

Dress - John Daggett x Reader (The Dark Knight Rises)

GIF Credit: X

Author’s Note: Full disclosure, I knew I wanted to do a part 4... But... I really... struggle to find the inspiration for it. And I wanted to do THIS but then wasn’t sure what to do. Then in the same day I did some scrolling and found a little gem post, and was accosted by a new Daggett gif set. SO. Here we are my lovelies! Let’s throw this under the category: “Mendo sugar babies unite”

Disclaimer: TDKR characters not mine / lyrics not mine / gifs not mine

Premise: You know there is only one reason Daggett would ever give you his card. It isn’t about seeing you in the dress, it’s about having that dress on his bedroom floor...

Words: 2832

Warnings: Sexual Pre-Amble / Sexual Connotations / Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby 

_______ Our secret moments in a crowded room They've got no idea about me and you There is an indentation in the shape of you Made your mark on me... All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation My hands are shaking from holding back from you All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting My hands are shaking from holding back from all this... Say my name and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off Carve your name into my bedpost 'Cause I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off Take it off My one and only, my lifeline I woke up just in time Now I wake up by your side My hands are shaking, and I can't explain this...

---

So many clothes... so little time... you pondered, walking up and down the rows in this expensive boutique dress shop. You knew you had a problem here. You wanted to wear all of them... and surely you would buy all of them; and with the money you had could buy all of them. But the problem was which one first...!

Even if you purchased more than one item, you could only wear one at once.

That was your ‘gift’ this morning. His credit card. You weren’t exactly sure when he’d left, but you’d heard him talk about all his meetings yesterday - and surely some of them would have started early. But John would let you sleep on; and be better off for it... Still, that didn’t mean that you liked waking up in that house alone and there was only so many times you could look at all the artwork and artefacts, and walk around it, before deciding to put that plastic to good use. You weren’t sure Philip was exactly keen on having to drive you around either, but that’s what Daggett had tasked him with and here you were. Having said that, Philip was a good guy and on the few occasions you had actually had real reason to converse you enjoyed talking to him.

You sighed and stopped in the middle of the store, doing a slow full circle turn. There was only one thing for it, then, try on a few and then decide on the one.

You gathered the dresses that had caught your attention most and headed into the fitting room with them. Now you had to think not only of yourself, but which one would he like best? Besides it wasn’t like it would be staying on too long... unless he wanted to take you out in it, of course. You tilted your head, but surely after a long work day he would just want to come home, and have you. Biting your lip gently, you studied them all in turn again; alright... Time to make an executive decision... for my Executive..!

 *** When you tried it on you just knew, this was the one. It had to be the one. It had a price tag to match the design, of course, but there was no other dress you had slipped on that would have the same effect at this one. And easy to take off, you might add. Which you wanted him too. That was the only reason you were even out here spending his money on nice things.

You smirked gently to yourself; of course, it would need lingerie to match...

Philip only asked to carry your things out of courtesy, and even when you refused he gave you a look that said If Daggett finds out I haven’t been... but it was nice of him, and gave you free reign to not be weighed down by shopping bags. Except when you walked into any lingerie store, then he stood outside with a bright red face, and that was a carrier you were allowed to keep hold of.

You weren’t sure when you had started this ‘relationship’ John would have realised just how much you liked spending his money. You wondered if he often looked at his credit card bills and raised an eyebrow; ‘who needs to spend THAT much on....-!’ or if he cared, or really even noticed. Did what you spent even make a dent in his bank account? You were probably barely even scratching the surface of his monthly interest. He didn’t really give you an allowance; John bought you things he thought you might like - that he’d thought of, he actually put effort into this - but he hadn’t been on a business trip lately so, that would be why he’d left his card to you this morning. If he had time, he’d make the trip himself - as you’d observed, work was clearly busy. And you lived in his house, had your own room and didn’t have to see him if you didn’t want to. (Thought most of the time you did, and found yourself incredibly bored without him here). In fact if you were stubborn enough to only seek him out for money, or when he might want sex, (ha! might) then you could go literally weeks without seeing a trace of John Daggett.

But you liked being around him and talking to him and the way he talked to you and made you feel; so if he was allowed to take you on trips or to conferences, you bet he damn would. Half to show you off - or to show off himself - and you’d seen the way other businessmen looked at him. And you sure liked that too. That was the kick he got out of this. Your kick was supposed to be his money, but that was only ever half of it. You’d done this before a couple of times, that was the way things worked - often they or you would move on and that was fine... but you wanted more stimulus than just money in your pocket. For John, this was very new. You were his first... maybe intent on being his last. And that made the experience a little more special and a lot more exciting. He treated you a lot more like a girlfriend or partner than you expected, but he understood it was as much a professional relationship - he was effectively paying you, at the end of the day. But he also liked taking the initiative or being spontaneous to surprise you... it wasn’t like booking a slot in each other’s schedules.

So, taking his own initiative, you liked to give Daggett a few surprises of your own.

 ***

 You returned home before you knew he’d be back, and you were more than just excited. You did make sure you thank Philip as you collected your things and then ran off to your part of the house.

You liked to get some alone time before Daggett waltzed back in here, so you could look your absolute best. After all, the aim was always to dazzle him.  He liked knowing what you’d brought with his money... and he also liked seeing it pooled on the floor of his room. Way more than he liked to see it on. And you sure as hell didn’t mind that.

The good thing about John was always knowing he was home; he had a self-important voice that echoed around this house no matter where he was. But, also made your heart beat that little faster and made you softly groan in anticipation. As he reached the landing, his footfalls became heavier - and you heard him call down to Philip for no calls or meetings or hell anything to disturb him until he was back downstairs. No doubt Philip would scurry away down the other end of the house and turn the TV way up loud at that notion.  

His footsteps continued at pace, and you turned to the door from where you were seated to see it open. Daggett smirked, instantly, at seeing you sitting there in a new dress. “Oh... Darling... For me?” He slowed himself right to a casual meander across the room, as his eyes traced your body. Cut out bodice, the back was low and it also plunged deep in the front - almost to the point where they shouldn’t even have bothered with material at all. It was translucent fabric - but clever - giving enough away, whilst also opaque in all places he would have been able to see your lingerie. You watched the way he bit his lip; but also got frustrated at that very same fact.

John sat on the end of the bed; legs just far enough apart that you would have to choose one to straddle. He placed his hands gently on his thighs. You bit your lips together; you weren’t shy and he knew this, but you would happily elude to it: “Welcome back...” “Thank you… Did you have a good day? sorry to have you wake alone this morning, if I didn’t have that damn meeting...” You shook your head like it wasn’t an issue “My day was good thank you, and yours? ...Needs must, you’re an important man.” Notice you said important and not busy, you knew how greatly you’d be rewarded for boosting his ego. Indeed he gave another smirk and chucked; “Well, darling, you know how it is!” He gave a gentle shrug like it was all the same to him and then beckoned you closer; “Now come, show me what you bought...”  

You stood slowly, allowing the fabric to cascade in a gentle swirl - though it clung delicately to your curves it wasn’t so flimsy as to look cheap. It did give the impression that it was begging to be taken off, though. And you and he both knew that. He ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip and the grip on his thighs tightened as you prowled towards him. Not so delicate as you looked, and he knew that too.  

Daggett straightened, reaching for you with one hand he gathered fabric and let the silky feel run through his fingers. “You are gorgeous...” He murmured, blue eyes locked on yours as he reached for the ties; “What about what’s underneath, baby?” His vocalisation purred, and a shake of delight ran up your spine. “Did you buy that for me too?” “Yes...” Your voice strained to hold back the desire you were feeling as he pulled you closer, and down towards him. Lips grazing the bare skin of your chest, but not quite in a kiss. But your sigh told him that was exactly what you wished it was. John growled gently to answer you, pulling you onto his right knee.  “Good girl...”

He gathered your hair, pulling it back from your neck and shoulders as his lips grazed your skin again, and your breathing hitched, hands finding his body and clinging to his suit for balance - because the push of his own body into yours certainly wasn’t helping you keep it. Daggett chucked, repeating the phrase, as something a lot more like kisses began to involve teeth. To that end, your body trembled, and it was too much of a giveaway to what you really wanted. He pulled back to study you, hypnotising blue eyes darkly rimmed with a hint of all the things he wanted to do to you. And possibly would, before the night was through. He ran his thumb gently over your soft lips and you parted them for him.

He chuckled again, this time a deeper throatier sound; “That’s a good girl... that’s my good girl...” Before he pulled you back to him for a real kiss, harsh and dominating; no matter what you did Daggett would always make you surrender that power to him. Hands sliding to the revealing fabric he pulled back from kissing you, pushing his hips forward to put room between your body and his - it was no secret he wanted to enjoy the view. John’s hands moved slow, as he removed the fabric from your skin inch by inch. You wanted this dress off as bad as he did, and you knew this was as much to tease you, as it was a turn on for him. “Oh... baby...” He didn’t even attempt to hide the lust in his voice as the dress fell from your shoulders, revealing the straps of your bralette - crossing over in a variety of colours; standing out against the black. The fabric as sheer as the dress was. Your voice could barely be raised above a whisper as you watched him with anticipation; “Do you like it?” “Like it?” He repeated, with a smirk, “Oh, baby, if only you knew how much...” Daggett mixed that growl with just the edge of a tease - you couldn’t help but moan softly at. John’s hands continued wandering as he pulled the dress down further - and every time his fingertips graced your skin you shivered in obvious delight. As he pushed you back down towards his knee in order to let the dress fall completely to the floor, his fingers keep your hips down – and the contact friction was enough to make you cry out. Half in surprise at the motion, as you reached out to steady yourself against his shoulders – shock of pleasure running through you. This was exactly what Daggett wanted, and he vocalised as such. You wondered if you’d ever get tired of him saying things like That’s my girl… But when he purred them the way he did, and his lips touched your neck, so soft and yet so sinful, you wondered how you possibly could. The fabric even teased him with the way it finally fell away from your body; underwear in the same sheer black and rainbow criss-crossed stripes. All a little too much, all exactly what he wanted. And your heels – damn, maybe later tonight he’d let you step on him in those… Daggett liked it when you were a little more feisty with him, especially when he asked you to be. For now however, you were at his mercy, and he laughed quietly. “Oh… baby, you’re gorgeous…” John ran his hands smoothly across your thighs, parting your legs a little more across his – he stopped just short of your lingerie, blue eyes intense. “And all for me…” it wasn’t a question, but a statement. And he leant in again to brush his lips to yours, and his hands followed his movement, brushing his thumbs over your underwear – even though you knew it was going to happen it still caused you to jerk and you groaned against his lips, his hands continued the travel – he wasn’t allowing you to have any more than that. “You are mine.” When he pulled back his voice was clear and commanding – his eyes icy. Jealousy. Not of anyone in particular – but probably of anyone. “…I know…” You whispered, “I want to be.”

He didn’t repeat his favourite phrase; but you knew by the glint in Daggett’s eyes he was thinking it. Pulling you back to him his lips found your neck again, tongue rolling sinfully over your skin. You tipped your head back, leaning as much into the kisses he was affording you as you could – you’d craved this feeling all day, you weren’t about to let him stop now. “J-John… please…” To respond he traced his hovering fingers upwards and over your bralette – thumbs brushing over your nipples, causing you to shudder, and once again grab fistfuls of his suit. He nipped your skin in protest – yeah it was probably expensive and he didn’t want creases, but what did he expect? Right now you just wanted it on his bedroom floor. His hands moved to the entwined multicoloured straps and he released your neck to catch you lips again – fingers lazily slid under the fabric, and he pulled them off your shoulders at a painfully slow rate. You were nearly driven to the point of insanity by now, and you pushed yourself up his thigh just to create friction; that only caused you to gasp into his kiss – and by your shake, he realised just how desperate you were.

Daggett leaned back, eyes searching yours; the concern on his face wasn’t at all genuine, and seemed to mock your desperation; “Oh… Darling… Is that how bad you want me?” Whatever answer you gave him would be wrong; so you simply nodded. But he tsk’d, sliding the bralette further down your body. “Tell me.” “…Y-Yes…” This time he dragged you across his lap and into his hips. The movement almost threatened for you to come undone right here, but it didn’t happen. Daggett did however wear a smug smirk at the sound you elicited; it was likely the entire house had heard that – and your cheeks burned, “Good Girl.” He forced his other knee between your legs pulling you into another harsh kiss, before flipping you completely. Your back hit the sheets – and this time he wasn’t being slow and sensual – Daggett just wanted you naked. His hands moved to his belt buckle and you got your wish of that suit on his floor. Biting your lip gently, even when the hum reverberated in your throat. John pinned you back down, wrists in his hands, it was his kisses that were slower and he teased you with them enough to get you desperate for him again. “John…” But you didn’t struggle against his grip, because you knew that wouldn’t lead you anywhere close to getting what you wanted. “Now be my good girl… and show me…” His voice purred again, one hand tracing back down your body as you wrapped your legs around him; “…Just how bad you want me…”

---

@menndelsohn​ @3134045126​​ @happyskywhale​ @wltz-bby​ #MendoTagSquad

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

The Present (SMUT)

It’s Christmas Eve’s eve, and your on-and-off boyfriend slash roommate Theo has left you home alone once again to go out with one of his old flings. Your dear mutual friend Roger has agreed to spend the evening with you before he leaves for his parent’s house to spend the holidays with them. The underlying tension between you two gets to be too much – but who will break first?

(a/n: as promised, celebratory smut for 1,300 followers!!! i deadass have gained 41 in the last 24 hours y’all make my eyes rain i love you so much. anyways enjoy smutty rog wink wink)

I’ll be at Jen’s tonight. Don’t wait up on me. –T

One note, two sentences, was all it took to infuriate you. He wasn’t coming home tonight just to piss you off before the holidays. He knew it, you knew it - so why was he still doing it? And bringing his ex into the midst of it all? Did he think you were going to beg him to take you back, or did he really just not care about you that much?

Roger noticed your face heating up as he navigated his way to an open parking spot, glancing at you curiously before reaching over to touch your arm gently, almost inquisitively. 

Instead of ranting, you just looked out the passenger window and held out the note you’d left crumpled in your pocket. He slowed the car to a stop at a red light and slid his fingers up your arm, taking the note while simultaneously eliciting goosebumps all over your left arm. You blushed lightly, but the dim evening lighting saved you that additional embarrassment. Roger let out an audible sigh of dismay, then crumpled up the note again and gently set it down on your thigh, resuming his trek when the light turned green. "Why do you continue to stay with that prick?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly exasperated. He knew the answer, but his frustration was clear and perplexed you.

"You know why, Rog," you murmured, your eyes dropping down to the note. After a few more moments of silence, you ventured out and pushed the boundaries a little, asking a simple, "What does Theo tell you about me, Rog? Does he say terrible things? ‘Cause I feel like he hates me for not groveling at his stupid fucking feet since he pays rent."

Roger looked hesitant as you watched his reaction, hoping for an indicator, but he was able to shut you out enough that it wasn't obvious. "Nothing that should concern you. Don't worry about it, love. Theo stresses me out more than anyone in this bloody world, but you don't want that happening to you, too." Damn him and his sweet words, trying to make you feel better. Alas, not a lot would cure your dejected feelings that you were experiencing. Theo had openly disrespected you and left you hanging for a different girl, one that knew him better, one that he knew better.

You sighed in response, unbuckling as he pulled into one of the two empty spots down the block from your flat, and you stepped out as soon as he parked, shoving the note into your purse. Roger walked around to meet you, looking to make sure he wasn’t double-parked before gently taking your arm and walking alongside you as you headed for the building.

As you both stepped into the lobby, which was surprisingly empty, you began to formulate a plan. Theo wanted to go fuck someone else? Well, so could you. Roger had been especially touchy tonight, considering all you’d went out for was coffee, and if you played your cards right, you had a good idea of how tonight was going to go. It wasn’t a secret you and him had nearly shagged multiple times, even if it was before you got involved with Theo.

"Roger?" you said softly, making your voice sound as compelling as possible. He looked down at you, raising an eyebrow lightly in question, so you continued with your ploying ways. "Can you come into the flat with me before you head out?"

You reached your flat door at that time and slid your arm out of his to unlock it and push open the door, looking at him and smiling sweetly before motioning for him to follow you, which he couldn't say no to.

Roger looked curious as he followed you back into the flat, his eyes twinkling more than before and his posture attentive. You chewed on your lip as you frantically tried to search for any reason for him to stay; it was Christmas Eve's eve and you were lonely and underappreciated - Roger was stressed and needed a break. The mix could be volatile, but at this point, you were willing to do anything to feel some sort of attention after being so neglected, especially since you now knew how irritated Roger was with Theo.

"It's Christmas," you murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. "I got you a present to show my appreciation... I know Theo fucks me over far too many times, and you’re always here for me when he does, so I want to make sure you know I'm glad you're here with me unconditionally."

He chuckled, and you could hear the smile in his words that followed. "That's nice of you, sweetheart, but I should be heading back to pack up soon. Also, I haven’t got a gift for you here, it’s back at my place."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before turning to him, looking up at him through your lashes and smiling sheepishly, ducking your head as cutely as you could. "Wait right here?" With that, you headed towards the bedroom, trying to look as casual as possible. Hearing the sound of his body weight settling into the couch made you relax immensely. There was no way he could see what you were up to if he was sitting in there. You quickly tossed the little mess you had in the room into the bottom of your hamper, then undressed and pulled out the lingerie Theo had let you buy with his cash the other day. It was a red lace bralette with a matching thong, nothing fancy. 

Was this wrong, using this for someone other than Theo? You questioned that as you pulled it on, cleaning up as best as you could in the vanity. Quickly, you decided to add on some black knee high socks to the ensemble. The question was pointless though. Why did you care if Theo was just going to go fuck with his ex the night you were supposed to spend with him? Irritated, you pulled on a robe over the outfit, trying to shut out thoughts of him.

"What's taking so long, Y/N? Did you lose my present?" Roger asked teasingly. You froze, because the next thing you heard was him coming down the hallway. You tiptoed quickly over to the wardrobe again, pretending to look for the present, and turned around to face him as you heard him push open the door. He looked bemused, looking you up and down as he stood there for a moment. "You changed," he noted, his voice a mix of pleasant surprise and confusion.

You blushed lightly. Damnit, you were so not good at these things. "Um, your present is up there in the box on top of my wardrobe, but I can't reach it without the stepladder in the kitchen," you lied blatantly, stepping away from the wardrobe as he began to approach it. He kept glancing between you and the box, trying to decipher the truth and the lie, but he continued anyways, giving you enough room to stand in his way back to the door.

This was it. All or nothing. You untied the robe and let it slide down your arms to your elbows, where it hung loosely as he reached up and grabbed the box, which was empty. "Ah! An empty box," he laughed dryly, but his amusement was cut short as he turned back to face you. His face went emotionless, but his blue eyes dilated and he dropped the box to the floor next to him. "Y/N," he warned, his voice lower and more serious than it was less than 5 seconds ago.

"Roger," you replied calmly, a lot more calmly than you felt. Your heart was racing as you watched him furrow his eyebrows, closing his eyes and bowing his head slightly.

"You know I can't do this to Theo," he uttered quietly, shaking his head and struggling to look back up at you. You could see his eyes roaming slightly as he attempted to keep eye contact, and you took it as a sign to keep going.

"Well," you sighed, smiling a little. "Why not?" He furrowed his eyebrows more as you walked towards him, your steps light, not too slow or fast. As you got near, you let the robe drop down to the floor and instead rested your hands on his torso, one gripping his button up, the other slowly sliding up the left side of his chest. His breathing was short, his heart rate as irregular as yours, and he parted his lips slightly as you looked up at him, your faces inches apart. "Stay?" you murmured, your eyes wide and innocent.

That was all it took for him to let his guard down. His posture slackened as he let out a deep sigh and firmly took your face in his hands, closing the gap between your lips swiftly and concisely. 

He kissed you, and he kissed you powerfully at that. A glut of intensity bubbled over into the kiss, and goosebumps rose on your arms as he moved his lips against yours with a purpose, one of his hands moving to the small of your back and pressing your body flush to his. Your right hand clutched onto his shirt as the left one gripped his right forearm, your body warming substantially as your body heats intermingled through the minimal layers you had on collectively.

You began to back up towards the bed slowly, letting him get the hint, and he took it, removing his hands from your face and back to pick you up and carry you to the bed. He laid you back on it carefully and kneeled between your legs, looking down at you with a look you'd rarely ever seen him give you before. 

Your bewilderment only egged on the look, a wide smile briefly crossing his lips before he backed you up towards the pillows. His face hovered over yours as he locked eyes with you, speaking for the first time since he tried to push you away. “I never thought you'd be the one to break first, love." You were stunned, a laugh bubbling to your lips, but he only let it last for a moment before he grinned and cut off your laugh with another kiss, this one meant to last longer. 

You slowly unbuttoned his button-up, letting his hands freely roam down your side and fingers hook into the side of your thong, where they remained curled as you unbuttoned the last of his shirt. Turning your attention to unbuttoning his pants, you moved your fingers a little bit quicker, but hesitated as his lips moved to your neck. He was leaving wet, sloppy kisses down the length of it, and you let out an audible sigh of pleasure. His lips curled in amusement ever-so-slightly, which invigorated you that much more, and you soon got his pants unbuttoned, unzipped and pushed down far enough that you could see a majority of his boxers.

Roger was focused enough on trailing lovebites down to your collarbones that he groaned in surprise as you began to palm him through his boxers, biting your lip to try and keep yourself grounded. His breathing was ragged against your neck as he paused for a second, eagerly pressing his hips towards your hand, desperately needing more pressure. 

He couldn't focus anymore, and your heard him mumble something just loud enough for him to hear, before lifting himself up off the bed and standing to the side of you. Shrugging off his button-up and pushing off his pants (his socks going with them, thank God), his eyes never left yours, so you relieved yourself of your bra first, then slowly pushed off your panties and tossed them towards him playfully. A ghost of a smirk played across his lips before he pushed his boxers off. 

Now you were both fully exposed, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes roam. One glance let you know he was doing the same - and he was transfixed. He slowly kneeled between your legs, looking up at you for a few moments before closing his eyes and leaning down to gently kiss your stomach. You watched as he ghosted his lips down lower and lower, before running his tongue over your clit, teasing it slowly and making you moan quietly. He gently sucked on it as you bit your lip, hooking your legs over his shoulder and tangling a hand in his hair. All of his attention was directed towards your core, sending small waves of pleasure up through your body, and it took everything in you to compose myself and eventually utter a simple request for him to fuck you. His response was a small grin, then he secured his arms around you and flipped you over onto your stomach, eliciting a small 'oof' from you as you landed on the mattress.

He leaned forward until his chest was pressed against your back, his cock rubbing up against your thigh as he kissed behind your ear before murmuring, "Theo doesn't get the same gift, right?"

You couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of the question, and you heard him chuckle as well before he leaned back up and grabbed his pants from the side of the bed. He pulled a condom out of his wallet and pulled it on before rubbing your clit with one hand, barely propping your hips up with the other before wrapping his hand around his cock to position himself. With just a moment of hesitation, he pressed his palm against your abdomen and slowly slid into you partially, both of you audibly gasping as you adjusted to the foreign feeling.

A few seconds after, he slowly began to thrust, groaning softly as he leaned down over you more, one arm supporting his body weight and the other hand pressing your hips back towards him. His thrusts sped up as your quiet murmuring of appreciation grew into moans of his name, and you felt him shift his weight so that he was almost pressed up against you, his face halfway nuzzled into your hair. You were confused until he groaned your name, gravelly and oh-so-close to your ear, which sent your body into a frenzy and made you moan lowly in appreciation, pressing your hips back towards him more. To make it easier for him, you spread your legs a bit more and managed to prop yourself up on your elbows, looking down at the comforter as he began to thrust deeper, thanking every God there was that this plan worked.

Roger was enjoying himself, but he was sweating from all of his hard work, so you decided to give him a break and you tapped his arm. He pulled out, watching as you turned to face him and pushed him into a laying position, straddling his hips and carefully lowering down onto his cock. He moaned and relaxed back into the bed, which confirmed he was enjoying this, so you started to ride him.

His hands gripped your hips firmly as he helped guide them, his eyes watching you intently as you watched his reactions. A small smirk graced his lips, but a quick circling of your hips erased the smirk and replaced it with a broken moan of your name and a quick muttering of, "Oh my God."

After a while, you switched again and he had your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms secured around his neck, and his hands secured under your arse as he sat on the edge of the bed. He slid into you again, this time retaining eye contact with you, and picked you up off the bed with him, carefully walking over until you were pressed against the door, which clicked shut. It wasn’t even a moment before he began again, and your eyes squeezed shut as he thrusted up into you, harder this time. 

Your thoughts were completely clouded over as Roger pounded into you, but this didn’t last for long. The sound of the front door creaking open resounded down the main hallway, and Roger stilled inside of you for a moment, looking up at you with a face full of dread and mouthing, "Who is it?" He didn't dare move, instead watching your reaction as you listened hard. You heard someone promptly come down the hallway without taking their shoes off, yelling out, “Theo? You home?”

"Fuck, it's George," you whispered, recognizing the voice and knowing that the damned idiot friend of Theo’s never removed his shoes when he came in. Roger watched your lips for a moment, then you saw a devilish look overtake his face. Before you had time to protest, he thrusted his hips hard, burying his cock inside of you, and you cried out loudly in pleasure, you head rolling back and eyes closing. This knobhead! Why was he trying to get you in trouble?

The footsteps down the hallway halted just as you regained a bit of awareness, and Roger moaned into your neck as he began moving his hips faster, muttering, "Moan, sweetheart, and he’ll go so I can have my fucking way with you." It took you a second to process and understand what he meant, but it didn't take much acting on your part to moan loudly and run your fingers down Roger's back, George's feet shifting uneasily as he debated whether or not to go or be a Peeping Tom. Nasty man.

"God forgive me," you whimpered quietly, then proceeding to let out one of the most porn star-esque moans you could muster, following up with a whine of "Faster, baby!"

Roger breathed out in slight annoyance at how long George was lingering, but you could feel his lips curl into an amused smile as he began to thrust faster, and you moaned long and loud so that George could hear every single thrust as it shook your voice. George quickly made his exit after that, and you sighed audibly in relief, which made Roger relax and slow down to a stop for just a moment or two.

He pulled out of you, carrying you back to the bed all while trying to catch his breath. "Time out," he murmured, laying you on your side and spooning you from behind. His cock rubbed up against your ass as he reached around you lazily and began to slowly rub your clit, to which you replied with a soft moan of relief as his erratic breaths hit your ear and made you shiver.

"Time out doesn't seem very fair," you murmured breathily, your eyelids fluttering closed in pleasure as he rubbed your clit harder. 

"Oh?" he replied simply, kissing your shoulder quickly and resting his chin there as he relished in your small moans of pleasure. Time out didn't last much longer than that, and Roger promptly gave you a Christmas present (or three) that you would never dare forget.

taglist - @moreinfinite @shae-is-not-ok @fourmisfitz

[nikkxb]

What Money Can Buy

Inuyasha Pairing: KogKag Rating: Mature Prompt: @iinuyashaa said “Kouga’s like a wholesome sugar daddy” and it was a downward spiral from there. Coffee Shop AU for AU Yeah August. Author’s Note: Listen, if you squint, you can see the coffee shop part of the au, promise.

The black credit card had been burning a hole in her pocket all week. Every time she opened her wallet, it caught her eye. Hard not to considering how out of place it was. Still, even with the compromise they came to, she shied away from it and either used her own debit card or the little bit of cash she had each time she paid.

Kagome wasn’t certain how long it was going to take before the sight of that black sliver didn’t shock her or if she would ever get used to it. The entire idea was completely foreign, but her protests hadn’t worked and he continued reminding her of the crazy arrangement she made, so she simply ignored it instead.

Until now. Apparently, Kouga really didn’t like her not using his card and he had the uncanny ability to call at the worst possible times.

“Kagome,” he said as her coffee order was called, his voice a mix of affection and exasperation, “I gave you the card so you can use it.”

“Yeah, but I have it covered.”

Miroku handed her the drink when she neared the counter, his raised eyebrow indicating that he knew exactly the conversation she was having on the phone. No privacy anywhere.

“The schedule’s posted,” he said, glancing at the new customers that just walked in. “Tell Kouga hi for me.”

Cup of coffee and lemon scone in one hand, phone to her ear in the other, Kagome didn’t hesitate to escape the noise of the cafe and slip into the back. Her eyes went to the bulletin board just as she realized the silence coming from the other end of the line.

“Kouga?”

“I’m here,” he said, something warm curling in her stomach at the adoration still in his tone. “How’s your schedule look for next week?”

Damn the man for asking about the one thing she didn’t want to tell him.

“It’s…alright.”

Her pause had been too noticeable.

“How many hours?”

She blew out a breath. “Eighteen.”

The beat of silence that came after that told her all she needed to know: her streak of ignoring the shiny new card in her wallet was about to end.

“Kouga, I’m fine, I prom—”

“We made a deal, right?” Concern started to thread through the other emotions in his voice, but she focused on the affection instead. “I agreed that I won’t pay your bills, you agreed to let me pay for everything else.”

“I haven’t needed to buy—”

“And we also agreed that food doesn’t count as a bill,” he continued, confirming her suspicions. He knew she paid for her coffee. “Nor do clothes or dinners with friends or the new book you’ve had your eye on for three weeks.”

“Kouga—”

“Use the card, beautiful.” Wise of him not to let her speak, especially paired with that pet name that sent her stomach fluttering, and they’d been dating long enough for him to utilize the knowledge effectively. “Go shopping, get your groceries, meet Sango for drinks, and have fun. Please. Use the card.”

“Kouga, I told you the slow season was coming up—”

“If you don’t use that card, I’m going to shop for you.”

She froze, knowing Kouga just won. The last time he’d purchased something for her, she came home to a box containing shoes more expensive than her rent and a jewelry set that could have supplied lunch to a small army. Considering he hadn’t even touched clothes, Kagome couldn’t take the risk of him dropping a fortune in retaliation and stocking that in her closet.

And then expect her wear said fortune.

“I love you,” he said softly, breaking through the mental struggle she was experiencing.

“I love you, too.”

“Have fun today. See you tonight.”

Kagome stared at her phone, running through the conversation again in her head. Her thumb moved and she tapped Sango’s name before putting the phone to her ear.

It appeared that she was going shopping.

*

She was heading toward the line at the bookstore when Sango showed up. Kagome hadn’t intended to start there, but one look at the store amidst a sea of clothes and expenses, she knew it would be easier. A book was simple. Small and easy, something she would have afforded herself and something she knew without a doubt he would have gifted her with.

So with book in one hand and wallet in the other, Kagome made her way to the register before she was interrupted by Sango.

“He finally get to you?” her friend asked with obvious amusement.

“He threatened to go shopping for me himself if I didn’t start using his card.”

Her complaint was received with a laugh.

“You’re not supposed to be on his side,” Kagome spouted in annoyance. “What happened to being strong, independent women?”

“Strong, independent women get to be strong, independent women because they’re smart, Kagome,” Sango shot back easily. “So when a strong, independent woman falls in love with a strong, handsome man who’s so in love with her, he wants to give her the world—and just so happens to make enough money to do so—said strong, independent woman thanks her lucky stars and accepts her new sugar daddy.”

“Don’t call him that!” she hissed, looking around at anyone who might have heard. “He doesn’t have to give me his money to give me the world. He doesn’t have to give me money at all.”

Sango’s response was interrupted by the line moving and one of the cashiers calling for Kagome, so she took the interruption and placed her book on the counter. Her fingers stuttered over the black card, not even able to touch it, before she shook her head and—

Use the card, beautiful.

Kagome didn’t blink as she passed over the thick, black credit card, finished out her transaction, and tucked the card and receipt in her wallet. Sango was waiting for her and if she focused on that, she could grab the bag and get going and be out of the bookstore and into the mall before she finally realized what she actually did.

“Oh my God, I have a sugar daddy.”

“Now she’s getting it,” Sango cheered, bumping her shoulder into Kagome’s.

“I’m a total slut.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Sango, I have a sugar daddy.”

“And you fell in love with him before you knew how much money he had.”

“But—“

“Kagome.”

That hard tone had her gaze shooting up.

“Are you with Kouga because of his money?”

Kagome shook her head.

“If Kouga was just as broke as you, would you leave him?”

She shook her head again.

“Are you using Kouga?”

Another shake, this one with wide eyes, but Sango continued before she could speak.

“Then stop.”

Standing there in the middle of the mall, Kagome reflected over their relationship and how it progressed over the last year since he first came into the coffee shop she worked at. How he continued coming in to talk to her, how he finally asked her out for lunch, and then how he nurtured a relationship between the two of them before she finally fell in love.

“Do you think he gets something out of buying stuff for me?” Kagome blurted out.

“Probably,” Sango shrugged. “I would be surprised if he didn’t, but I think it’s more to do with taking care of you than some type of power trip.”

“So me not using his card,” she paused, not quite certain what she thought of her own realization, “is like an insult?”

Sango’s eyes softened and she leaned in. “I can’t answer that, Kagome. You have to ask him. But you said you needed some new bras, right?”

Oof, good hit. Kagome was wearing her last good one and that was saying something considering it was holding on by a thread.

Sango read her expression correctly. “Let’s go get you some bras. You can rationalize it later when you remember what Kouga gets out of you buying lingerie.”

*

Shopping turned out to be a good idea.

First, Kouga noticed. Ten minutes after she left the bookstore, he sent her a text containing a single, red heart. After she left the lingerie shop, his text told her he was taking her out that evening on a date paired with that knowing eyes emoji. Sango took one look at “date” and made sure she found a new dress to go with her sexy underwear. And after the dress, she stumbled upon a few clothing essentials and Kagome spent more in one afternoon than she could remember spending in months, but each purchase was rewarded with sweet words from Kouga. It made the whole thing easy to swallow.

Second, she really did need the clothes. Well, maybe not everything she bought, but the underwear, definitely. And nice fitting jeans were hard to find, especially when they were on sale — which they were. And comfortable shorts that didn’t show off her butt cheeks almost didn’t exist anymore, but she found a few pairs anyway. So with all of that, Kagome ended up with more clothing than she had been anticipating, but it was all clothing she would wear.

Exception to the dress. Not many places would she wear that, but she was getting use out of it on their date and it was nice to have a nice gown in her closet in case something like this happened again.

And it was a wonderful date. Kouga took her to a really nice restaurant where he was dressed in a button down with no tie and good-fitting slacks that showed off the length of his legs. He always looked good no matter what he wore, but in her new dress and heels, Kagome almost felt like she finally fit next to him.

She still preferred him in jeans and a tee hanging out at the park. Their casual dates were where she fell in love with him and she wouldn’t trade them for all the nice champagne in the world.

But Kouga loved taking her out, showing her off to anyone they saw. He asked about her shopping and what she got, Sango and how she was doing with her upcoming summer classes, even about work and life and Kagome’s other friends and reminding her all over again why she loved him. Even with his ridiculous amount of money.

It was only on their way to his home when Kagome finally plucked up the courage to ask him the question she’d been wondering for days.

“Kouga, why do you want me to spend your money?”

“Because I like taking care of you,” he answered immediately.

“Yeah, but you already take care of me.”

He tore his eyes away from the road for a split second to study her. “Not in the same way.”

“But I don’t need you to,” she said, trying to sort through her own thoughts. “I don’t need all of this. The dress is nice, but completely unnecessary if I get to be with you.”

The came to a stop in front of a red light and Kouga took the opportunity to reach out and squeeze her hand. “It’s necessary to me.”

She jerked, but he continued talking.

“Let me explain.” He squeezed her hand again. “No, you don’t need any of this. You are more than capable of surviving on your own and you were doing a damn good job of it before I met you. I don’t want to take that from you, Kagome, because I know how important it is to you.”

So far, so good; he was making sense and still acknowledging her pride.

“You’re a giving person. I’ve never seen someone hand out their heart to so many people in so many ways. You remember the day I finally talked to you? I watched you pull out your own wallet to paid for a little girl to get a cookie because she just so happened to walk in from the rain.”

“Every child deserves a cookie when they’re scared and looking for their mother,” she protested quietly.

His face broke out in an immediate, large smile. “See? You’re still doing it now.” Kouga turned back to the road as the light turned green. “Kagome, you give and give and give all the time. I look at you and all I want to do is give back.”

“You already give back.”

“Not enough.”

“Kouga,” she stressed, “it is enough.”

He was quiet, a frown starting to furrow his eyebrows and she let him have the moment to think. “It’s enough for you because you’re happy with me, something I’m damned lucky for and always will be. But it’s not enough for me, not when there’s so much more I can give you.”

Sango’s words echoed in Kagome’s ear.

“And since you’re so stubborn and won’t let me take care of you the way I really want to,” he continued, his tone turning teasing, “I do it this way. You want to pay your bills? I understand and respect that. But a shopping spree? Nice clothes and pretty dresses and good books you’re going to read and the peace of mind that you’ll have all of that even when you have slow hours at work? That is what I want to give you.”

She never thought of it that way, not in the sense of what Kouga was feeling. After being on the receiving end of pity masked as care far too many times, Kagome learned to refuse help she didn’t earn. But if giving her a credit card made Kouga feel at ease, that made it a little different.

Only one question left to ask and it was one she really wanted the answer to, but she wasn’t sure it was an answer she wanted to face.

“Was it insulting when I didn’t use your card?”

His silence said everything.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t mean it, Kagome,” he interrupted softly, “and I didn’t tell you for a reason.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t think it was fair to guilt you into doing something you really didn’t want to do.”

Her heart warmed with affection for this man. “Is that why you kept calling me when you noticed I wasn’t using it?”

“Part of it,” he grinned, “but mostly because I really enjoy seeing just how stubborn you can be.”

“I still bought way too much today,” she said. “Some of it has got to be taken back—”

“Oh no, you don’t.” Kouga squeezed her hand again. “I’ll rip the tags off and steal your receipts if I have to, but you’re not returning anything after I finally got you to spoil yourself.”

That tugged at her heart even more, a small smile growing on her lips as she realized just how much it meant to him.

Still, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. “I still feel weird.”

“I know and I think you’ll feel weird for a while.” Kouga pulled into the driveway to his home, parking in the garage before turning to face her. “But thank you for doing it, anyway.”

“You’re welcome.”

He looked at her in the dim lights of his garage, his eyes dancing over her face and then down her dress. His grin turned dirty and Kagome’s cheeks instantly heated as she remembered what the grin was for. “Please tell me you’re wearing your new lingerie. I’ve been dying to see what you bought all day.”

“You think I bought them for you?” she asked, feigning propriety in order to hide the sudden bout of bashfulness.

“I know you did.” He undid his seatbelt and slid out of the car and Kagome knew better than to open her door before he got to it. Some things, she was learning, meant a lot to him and Kouga really wanted to take care of her in his own way.

He helped her out of the car, pulling her up and into his body as he let his hands slide down the silk covering her sides before they settled on her hips. “This dress looks fantastic.”

“Sango helped me pick it out,” she answered, sliding her arms up and around his neck.

“I’ll have to thank her.” He crowded her against the car door. “But first, I need to see what you have on under here.”

“Nothing special,” she lied.

His eyes were knowing as he leaned down and touched his lips to hers. Her heels made kissing him easier, a simple tilt of her neck as she pressed her body against his, welcoming the slide of his tongue.

“Do you work tomorrow?” he murmured in her ear as he nipped the sensitive skin of her neck.

“No,” she breathed.

“Good.” His tongue slid down her neck and he sucked gently on the curve of her shoulder. “You can spend the day showing me everything you bought.”

“Is this going to become a thing?” she asked, desperately focusing on the feel of his mouth rather than the reminder of her day. “A fashion show every time I use your card?”

Something in her voice must have tipped him off because he pulled back, his eyes finding hers and searching out answers to questions he didn’t ask. He didn’t need to; his concern was etched over his face.

“Does it really bother you?”

She swallowed, forcing herself to meet his gaze, consider his feelings, swallow her pride, and be truthful about her day. “At first, yes. But after talking to you, I think…I think I feel a little better.”

The silence stretched as he watched her, but then he must have found whatever he had been looking for and a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “If you’re really struggling, I don’t mind shopping for you.”

“Oh no,” she returned immediately, already picturing the monstrosities she’d come home to. “Please don’t. I’ll be fine with this.”

“Good.” Kouga kissed her again, then pulled her away from the car. “Now come on — it’s about time I really appreciate some of your purchases.”

I know the focus about the credit card sounds like ridiculous consumerism, but if you guys ever get the chance to hold a black American Express card, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. I’ve had a few come through my register when I worked at a bookstore in college and oh man, you know something’s different the instant it touches your fingers. It’s insane.

Also, thanks to anon, smutty second chapter here!

[arcanaenclave]

i-can-see-ur-underwearrrr.mp3.shellyamv.mp4

Francis & Bruno: Mostly go commando, unless it's very cold or they're tasked with wearing something that requires more layers, because that's just who they both are as people. They can hem and haw about having fur that gets hot all they want but other furries get along just fine, such as---

Tom: Wears cotton briefs/more often boxers, usually in whatever colors/packs are cheapest, and doesn't see what the big deal is about wearing them! Growing up in the hot, humid south means he's always favored clothes that breathe as much as possible, and boxers can also double as swimming trunks in a pinch, so, bonus. He's just now really starting to buy clothes for himself in general, underwear included, so he's starting to build a collection of boxers with funny sayings/designs on them.

Finn (formerly Huck): Almost the same as Tom, except he'll also basically wear any underwear regardless of style as long as it fits and doesn't make him too hot. He will also just plain not wear any sometimes because he's a free spirit and counts on his fur to make up for it. Some of that is a holdover from how he was a kid who had to basically learn to dress himself at a very young age, on top of everything else he had to learn more or less on his own. His adoptive dad tried his best, but some things are just beyond his power, especially now that Finn has moved out.

Bianca (who is still in renaming limbo, pardon me): Generally wears light, breathable bras with good underwire support and matching underwear. The matching is key: when her clothes are coordinated, she feels coordinated, and that helps her start her day off right. She tries to get her underwear sets in fun colors when she can (especially pinks and blues and purples), but being a larger cup size means that she's gotta either contend with the Sea Of Beige And White or magically dye each piece herself. So, naturally, she's gotten very good at magically dying things, unless she needs some white bras to match the fur on her chest. She owns a few sets of Very Expensive lingerie, some with camisoles, that she breaks out on special occasions, or when she wants to feel extra fancy.

Davey: Boxers and boxer briefs 4 lyfe. He doesn't have to worry about having fur or only being like 4 feet tall or wanting a bra that has form AND function, so his greatest struggle is just finding underwear in colors he likes, namely dark red, blue, and green. He's not overly fond of underwear with patterns or sayings on them except for gifts from Harold and the like, usually! He'll also wear frilly panties for a joke with zero hesitation, as that one anon found out like 7 years ago, because in any game of chicken Davey will never flinch first.

Ailbhe: Is also part of the big titty committee, and heavy is the chest that wears the boobs. She's less concerned with matching and more worried about comfort and support, which means she's mixing and matching most days even when she originally bought the underwear in a set. She usually goes for light-colored bras and underwear, especially anything light blue, but also has a few sets of lacy lingerie and some sets of very supportive sports bras. Also she steals Boris' boxers from time to time and wears them, as is her god-given girlfriend right.

Yakiv: Oh lord here we gooo. Being as endlessly old-fashioned as Yakiv is, he does wear long underwear sometimes, depending on the weather. Otherwise he'll always be wearing an undershirt of some sort and very plain, sometimes striped, boxer shorts, think maybeee ca. 1920's men's underwear. He considers that all very modern of him.

Lee: Briefs and boxer briefs! As a chronic wearer of skinny jeans, they're just the best suited for the job. You'll find in his underwear drawer just about any color you can think of---he likes having a bit of secret flair, so he loves getting them in bright, saturated colors and with wild patterns and sayings on them.

Crane: Already has to get his pants custom-made for his just-a-little-too-inhuman proportions, and has spent a significant portion of his life flying his transport ship long distances entirely by himself. Basically what I'm saying is he never wears underwear and tries to get by wearing extremely loose pants sometimes and everyone has to be emotionally prepared for the results of that.

Pam: Misses the days when satyrs could all go bottomless, he really, truly does. He makes up for it now by being a wild card. Is he going commando? Is he wearing briefs? Did he break out that pair of bedazzled pink panties he won a bet with 20 years ago? Is tHaT a tHoNg??? Who knows! (It's Bigwig. Bigwig knows.)

Martin: Boxers, briefs, boxer briefs, accidentally wearing a partner's boy shorts because they were the same color as his own underwear, jockstraps and cups, and even the occasional thong, Martin's worn (almost) it all! In his day-to-day he really does prefer boxers for the comfort factor, though sometimes he wears briefs when he feels an outfit calls for more support.

Zahrah: #FreeTheTiddies. Zahrah never wears bras in her day-to-day life, opting instead for a camisole some days or nothing other days, so long as she's not going to be doing anything especially active that will require more support. She finds them incredibly constricting, and has spent a pretty sizable portion of her life not wearing one, and she doesn't much feel like starting now! She also wears plain seamless linen/cotton/other natural fiber panties, because they're comfy! After spending most of her life in desert environments, she values coolness and cover more than anything else, and prefers to keep things simple, usually wearing solid colors like white and red and gold.

Jianyu: Wears white briefs or a fundoshi, usually the latter. As an extremely utilitarian person with more than a few insecurities and issues with his body image, he mostly prefers to forget he even has a physical form and needs to wear clothes, and puts the bare minimum of thought into underwear and the rest of his clothes by extension. As long as they do the job, it's fine! If he could plan his outfits months in advance and then spend the rest of his time focused on other, more important things to him, he would. Zahrah thinks he looks fetching in anything and tells him as such all the time, which he appreciates more than he'll say. 

Vince: Also misses the days when satyrs could run around completely ass-out, and so often compromises by not wearing any underwear. It's like being ass-out but also able to go out in public without getting arrested! He has much thicker, curlier fur than Pam, which makes it harder to fit himself for pants of any kind, and makes him more likely to overheat on especially hot days. When he absolutely has to, he'll wear boxers to give himself as much breathing room as he can. As with Pam, being as long-lived as they are, both have had to also wear the underwear was available during whatever time they lived in, but unlike Pam, Vince has always opted more for wearing nothing when he could manage it.

Drago: Wears black briefs, modified with a clasp at the back to attach the waistband over his tail. In the past what he wore was more dependent on what was available to him in local shops when his dad let him go out and buy some things for himself with his very small allowance. Since he spends the majority of his time in his demon form, which is especially lizard-y, as well as wearing tight leather pants, form-fitting bottoms are best, even if he doesn't actually need much support in that form. 

Claire: Lingerie all day every day, babey! She has some more sporty underwear alternatives in bright neon colors for when she's going to be especially on the move off the clock, usually when working out with others, but on her own time she pretty much always rocks one of her very extensive collection of matching lacy/satiny underwear sets that she's accrued over the years. Her criteria for what she buys usually falls into two categories: lingerie that's especially fancy-looking, regardless of price point or color, or lingerie that's somehow a little wild or different in some way, be it with fabric choices or strap designs or patterns. She wears a matching camisole or a white semi-transparent silk robe over whatever her look for the day is when she's shuffling in white pom-pom slippers around the girl house. 

Zed: Is a pretty committed devotee to the boxers way of life, and doesn't actually go commando all that often, in a shocking turn of events. He's generally more likely to go pants-less than underwear-less! Like the rest of his clothes, most of his underwear is some shade of green, with more than a few weed leaf patterns. He has some assorted weird/funny underthings he's collected over the many years from being friends with Lee and Jude and all of them buying each other dumb shit for various jokes. He keeps them around for a laugh, and for something to wear on laundry days to get a rise out of Dan.

Dr. Yume: Wears simple black bras and underwear, usually t-shirt bras and high-waisted briefs to fit under her usual button-down + pencil skirt/high-waisted slacks work clothes. She also wears them in white, but because of her work schedule and disrupted sleep sometimes she's not able to plan her outfits for the week like she wants to, and ends up with days where she's got a white shirt and black bra. Anyone who dares to comment on how they can see her straps through her clothes will be eviscerated with a 'Thank you, you can see my bra because I am wearing one.' response. She probably owns one (1) set of black lingerie that she bought eons ago on a whim, feeling a little pressured to do so, but she isn't really interested in wearing it at all. 

Sak: Used to rock a loincloth and the precursor to long underwear with the best of them, once upon a time! He'll wear literally anything handed to him if you ask him nicely enough, but his preference is for looser options like boxers since they breathe more and are the closest equivalent to makeshift bottoms he wore pre-iceberg.

[i-have-a-wonky-eye-too]

Let's...

Anonymous said: Hi can I get a Natasha x reader where nat and reader have some sexual tension but the reader convinced herself that nat could never see her that way so nat decides that she is going to show the reader exactly how she feel and sets up the reader to catch her materbating calling out that readers name and what she wants the reader to do to her while the reader just stands there a watches, after nat finishes she calls the reader name and asked is she liked the show and if she wants to join.

Anonymous said: Hey there! I was wondering if you could do one about Natasha x fem reader where is Valentine's day and everyone in the tower give each other secret love letters and reader gets one from a secret admirer (Natasha) that asks to gather with her at her bedroom? A smut end? Just if you are comfortable with it! Thanks luv

You sulked in the sofa as you ‘watched’ TV when in fact you were thinking about the gorgeous red head that had just walked into the kitchen catching your eye. The two of you were friends, close friends but over time you found yourself falling for her. She was perfect. Nice, caring, smart, fun, cheeky, helpful, smart mouth... hot as hell! Way, out of your league.

You huffed falling over onto your side giving up trying to watch whatever was playing, it hurt your head too much.

“What’s up with you?” Tony flopped down next to you eating some grapes from his hand.

You shook your head as you sat back up only to lay your head in his lap. “Nothing.” You mumbled.

He raised his eyebrow as he eyes you. “Yeah, don’t believe you, spill.” He asked popping a grape into his mouth.

You shrugged thinking of what to say. “It’s just, it’s-“ you stopped talking when you saw Nat walking towards you.

“See you later guys.” Nat waved her hand as she walked passed the pair of you. You sat up and watched as she got into the elevator smiling to herself.

“Ohhh...” Tony smirked behind you knowing what the problem was now. “Still nothing?” You shook your head.

“Never gonna get anything...” you frowned turning to face him. He held a grape out to you smiling softly. “Thanks.” You took it, popping it into your mouth. “I wish I could... just, say something and not feel stupid her... knowing it was me.” You rolled your eyes at how stupid that sounded before falling backwards again covering your face.

Tony began grinning having an idea pop into his head. “Hey, when’s it the 14th?” He asked randomly.

“Hmm... not tomorrow but the day after, why?” You raised your head to look at him but he’d already disappeared. “Bye!” Asshole.

Nat smiled to herself as she listened to Tony explain his plan to her. She knew about your crush on her, she’d hoped by now you’d have noticed hers on you but no. “And, I’m good what?” She asked turning round giving him a simple look.

“I dunno, write a poem to her... give her a bouquet of knives, whatever floats your boat just... make sure she knows you like her.” He sighed getting up from the kitchen island where he’d been sat. “Please, it’s infuriating hearing the poor kid belittle herself.” Tony sighed walking away. In the short year and half he’d known you, he’d taken it upon himself to be your big brother figure.

Nat pondered the idea for a few minutes before coming up with a plan of her own. Tony was right. Hearing you talk about yourself like you weren’t any good was sad, you were an amazing young girl whom the team had grown to love dearly.

Tony had informed you yesterday that you were all celebrating Valentine's Day as a team. No outsiders were the rules. So, being idiots you’d all taken to writing little letters and cards for each other and buying silly heart shaped chocolates. The boys had gone out and bought stupid teddy bears in various sizes and given them out to the girls and the girls had bought silly surprises like sexy lingerie and furry handcuffs for the boys. It was all in fun and it had been by far the best Valentine’s Day you’d had for a very long time. You’d worked out who most of the card and letters were from except for one.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

This is stupid,

Come to my room...

10pm, love your secret admirer x

It put a smile on your face but how could you go to there room when you didn’t know who it was from. You sighed and opened the little black box that was left with it. You opened it and immediately worked out it was Nat. There was a small bracelet with a heart attached along with a little black spider. It wasn’t Spider-boy because he’d already admitted to giving you a stuffed monkey that said ‘I’m nuts about you’ when you squeezed it.

You waited in your room until 10pm before you headed to Nat’s room thinking nothing of it. Why should you, you were friends, the two of you hung out often. You walked down the quiet hallway until you arrived at her door. As you took a deep breath you raised your hand in the air to knock on her door, stopping when you heard a noise from the other side. You couldn’t tell what it was right away but you could hear it again, repeatedly actually. You shook your head, knocking lightly.

“Y/N.” you heard Nat call, assuming she was telling you to come in.

When you opened the door you stopped quickly, your eyes widening when you saw Nat laid out on her bed, naked, with her legs spread and her hands between them. She had her head back as she used one hand to rub her clit and the other pushing fingers in and out of her. What. The fuck!

“Oh… Y/N, there…”

Your eyes widened as you heard her say your name again whilst her fingers pumped inside of her. She pulled her hand away that was playing with her clit and pinched her hardened nipple, moaning as she continued to pump her fingers in and out of herself. You gulped pressing your thighs together.

You knew you shouldn’t be staring but she was saying your name and, it was after 10pm. Maybe it wasn’t Nat that sent the Valentine’s gift. But, why was she saying your name… and, touching herself doing so.

“Fuck! Yes… baby… yes, Y/N!” Nat moaned loudly as she arched her back, coming all over herself. You gulped quickly pulling her bedroom door shut. You should have run, but your feet wouldn’t move and your brain was only replaying Nat’s face as she came. “Y/N? You can come in, you know.” Nat smirked as she sat up in bed. You slowly opened the door and peered round the door, quickly closing your eyes. “Open, your eyes, Y/N.”

“Nat, I didn’t mean-”

“Shh… did you enjoy what you saw?” she asked as she stood up and walked slowly over to, still naked.

You nodded keeping eye contact with her, not daring to look anywhere else. “I shouldn’t have.”

“Why not? It was for you, after all.” she grabbed a hold of you by your hand and pulled you into her room more, shutting thr door behind you.

“Me-me?” you gulped as you walked round in a circle, backing up until you fell backwards onto the bed.

NAt nodded grinning. “You. Want to something else?” you nodded slowly. Nat straddled your hips as she bent forwards. “I was thinking of your fingers inside me and what you’d do… I always think of you… what you’d taste like… what your mouth would feel like… want to find out?” she asked she leaned down and pressed her lips to yours softly, holding your face in her hands.

You moaned as your hands slid up her thighs slowly, stopping when they came to her ass cheeks. “Thank you for the poem-” the apir of you burst out laughing before she pulled away grinning down at you.

“You’re welcome… now, shall we put this mouth to better use?”

[peachyvhope]

Lingerie Lover (m.)

WARNING: It’s smutty babes

Bra Boy makes another appearance! I almost made Jinyoung Yoongi, haha, but I switched it to Taegi hanging out there. :) I love this pairing a lot actually like this Taehyung is such a great lover IMO.

Word Count: 3,019.

PART ONE: Bra Boy

You couldn’t piece together what crazy thoughts you had when you accepted your friend’s request to help him out. Nor could you fathom why he hadn’t asked Ah Seong in your stead, who would have had much more of a blast than you were as you stacked the folded dress shirts atop a shelf.

You’d never really thought that Jinyoung was the type to ask for help, but when he called you to help him out when in need of more workers, you had accepted without hesitation. You began to think it was because you couldn’t stop thinking about your little scene at the lingerie shop you’d been to last week.

Since that day, Ah Seong constantly pestered you for details, and you refused to open up. And when you realized that the boy who’d taken you in a changing room had slipped his business card into the back pocket of your jeans, you never picked up the phone to dial the number. Why would you? Shouldn’t he have given you his personal number if he wanted things to continue?

Still, even now, you thought about how he thrust inside your mouth and wondered how he would feel inside you, physically inside you, filling you to his hilt. You felt your face grow hot at the thought and exhaled deeply, fanning yourself.

“Miss? Can you tell me where the shorts are?”

You looked to your left to find what you thought was a teenage boy standing with curious eyes, waiting for an answer.

“It should be down the aisle closest to the denim section, Aisle 4.” You pointed and he bowed slightly as thanks before heading off in that direction. Since taking up Jinyoung’s requests, you were forced to familiarize yourself with his men’s clothing shop. But it wasn’t too much of a hassle since his system followed a pattern.

Once you finished perfecting the folded dress shirts stack, you moved towards the back of the store to go and bring out any other products that needed to be set up or restocked. You took note that there one of the jacket racks were looking quite empty and made sure to bring out a bunch to put them on display later.

You somehow felt like this was a reversed story of your adventure at Dellot, except this time, there was no Taehyung, and you would definitely not be barging into someone’s changing room.

As soon as you entered the storeroom, Jinyoung rushed up to you, frantic. “Y/N, I need you to work as one of the cashiers for a bit. One of my employees called in sick.”

“I get the feeling nobody wants to work with you today,” you teased, and Jinyoung paused as he sensed the playfulness.

“I guess I don’t have charm.” He fixed the hat on his head, “But you’re okay with clerking, right? You told me you used to be a clerk at your local pharmacy, so it’s fine, right? You’re familiar with what to do?”

“Chill, JYP, I got this. Which one do you want me to do?” You could understand his panic. Jinyoung’s clothing store was popular, and there were lots of customers, men, and women alike. May it be a man looking for a stylish new outfit or even a girl searching for a gift for her boyfriend, the department had never seen such a busy day like this before.

“Counter 3, please. There isn’t a line. Yet.”

“Gotcha. Make sure to pay me nicely.”

“Name your price,” he sighed, pushing you to the direction of the cash stations after taking the bundle of clothes out of your arms. “Go on!”

His sense of urgency filled your heart and you rushed to the station, announcing that you were open. As a result, a line accumulated, consisting of those who’d grown weary of waiting in the other longer lines. You checked out the first person’s things, a girl who’d bought many petite sized men’s items, and she dressed in such as well.

It took quite a while to clear the line, and people kept joining after another. You’d already taken a break earlier, so it was no use to call for another one, so at the end of the three-hour shift, you were ready to go home and drink some wine to calm your nerves. But there were still more people.

About four people were left in your line, and you made a point to tell anyone else lining up that you were going to close up soon. The next customer was a blonde boy, and at the sight of his hair, you froze. But he wasn’t Taehyung. Each time you saw similar colors, your heart swelled before deflating. You wished you could see him, and you knew that if you called him, the worst that could happen was him denying or rejecting you, but you held that weird sense of justice. He should have asked for your number.

Hell, you didn’t even think he knew your name. You seemed to just be another girl that he’d mouth fucked in the changing room of his grandfather’s boutique. Although, you just assumed that. You weren’t sure if he did that quite often, but seeing how no one really reacted–not that you could remember–to the display of indecency.

“You’re not going to say anything.” A familiar voice shocked you out of your reverie, and you finally identified that you were with the last pair of customers. There, Taehyung stood in front of you, in all his glory. Though, he seemed a little less glorified than usual. He stood with a man around his own age but wore a casual outfit.

The first time you had seen him, he’d worn a black turtleneck with a white blazer and chains around his neck, rings on his fingers. Today, he wore a black shirt and black joggers with a flannel to add a pop of color.

“Nothing? At all?”

“You know her,” the guy asked beside him. He was in similar apparel to Taehyung, joggers replaced with ripped jeans.

Taehyung nodded with a hum of approval, leaning forward until his hands rested on the station counter. “You never called.”

You opened your mouth and thought about what to say. “You gave me a business card.”

“You were running like your ass was on fire.” You didn’t have anything to say to that. Taehyung frowned and stood straight, and you took that as a notion to just check out his items and bag them for him.

“We’re buying soju tonight,” the shorter man asked, and you didn’t look up to see if Taehyung nodded or not. But you heard his response anyway.

“Raincheck, Yoongi-hyung. We’ll drink another time.” The man coughed out a laugh, and you peeked through your eyelashes to see him look between you and Taehyung.

“Then, I’ll be going home.”

You finished ringing up all the clothes and held your hand out, “108,377 won, please.” Taehyung’s friend placed a black card into your palm and you swiftly swiped it before handing it back to him with the addition of a receipt, along with his six different bags. “Thank you, come again.”

Yoongi gave you a small salute, a smirk evident on his face as he escaped, leaving Taehyung behind.

“When do you get off work,” he asked, leaning against the counter again.

You didn’t respond.

“I’m guessing now, right? You did close the station, so you’re leaving now, right?”

Again, nothing. But he didn’t seem to mind having a one-sided conversation.

“Is this your workplace? But you’re not wearing a name tag. That’s kind of weird. And I’ve never seen you here before.”

“You’re nosy,” was all you said, as you locked the register with the key, powering off the screen and other contraptions that got the job done.

“I’m curious. And you’re not helping much.”

“You didn’t seem so curious when you walked in on me changing, huh?”

“Because I only wanted you.” His words were blunt, and with the effect of his smooth voice, your face went red. You counted how many times you’d thought of him that day, that week.

“You got me.”

“No, I got you to suck me off. I want to be inside of you.”

At this, you slapped his chest with a gasp, looking around frantically to see if anyone had heard.

“You should come with me. I want to get to know you,” Taehyung spoke, grabbing your arms and stopping you from walking into the storeroom. When you didn’t say anything, he pushed you up against the wall beside the doors and caged you between the walls, and you took notice of how close his face was. If anything, you shared a kiss or two that night, and you wanted so badly to leave another on his lips.

“If you don’t…” You examined every inch of his face, and you finally noticed the freckle Ah Seong had told you about. At the tip of his nose, a single freckle that paled his sexy factor, but contributed to the adorable factor. It still made him seem fuckable, though.

“What?” Your voice came out hushed, almost hoarse with the sudden desire to kiss him. You knew you were getting wet, but more than your sex driven needs, you just wanted to feel close to him. The idea of it drove you crazy, though. How could you have such feelings for a stranger? How could you have actually given him a blowjob in a public place? Your mother would disown you if she knew.

“If you’re not going to come with me, I’ll fuck you. Right here, right now.”

“I…”

“What? If the words that come out of your mouth aren’t words of approval, I’ll force you to say yes.” His hand came to swipe across your bottom lip, and you felt a small pang of arousal, your belly filling with need. You felt something press against your lower stomach and realized he was hard, and with the memory of the changing room, you felt the anticipation.

“Taehyung…”

“Again,” he groaned into your ear.

“Y/N! Where are you? It’s time to close.” The doors opened beside you with a loud bang, and Taehyung never moved. Jinyoung bore witness to Taehyung pressed against you into the wall, and his eyes widened.

You didn’t say a word but stared back at your friend. Taehyung didn’t seem to be bothered, and he pressed his lips to your neck, leaving wet kisses.

“You…Uh, you’re free to go. Thanks for helping.” Jinyoung left with a sense of urgency, traumatized as he retreated back into the storeroom.

“Shall I fuck you right here?”

Taehyung tuned into a string of dirty talk, but with the embarrassment filling you, you pushed at his chest, and he stumbled back. Taehyung’s eyes darkened, and he lifted his hat up, brushing his hair back before replacing it. He opened his mouth, and you could guess what he was about to say, but you spoke first.

“I’ll…come with you. Just let me get my stuff.” Your voice was meek, and you ran into the storeroom to gather your things, leaving Taehyung with a look of approval. When you got back, your eyes connected with the tent in his pants that he made no effort to hide.

“Let’s go,” he smirked, letting you lead the way out of the exit. His hand rested on your waist as he followed suit.

Taehyung lived in a large building that had a lot of other residents, but he made sure you paid no mind to the others. When the pair of you entered the elevator, he made it clear that he wanted no disturbances, and he pressed the button to go to the tenth floor.

Upon arrival, he grabbed you by the wrist and strung you along until he reached his door, punching in his passcode. You could do nothing but let him pull you along like a doll, and you soon found yourself flung onto a large bed. Taehyung looked at you from beneath hooded lids, his eyelashes resting against his cheeks, and you help but think how unfair it was. Despite that, you felt your panties grow warm and wet: his bedroom face was unbelievably smoldering sexy.

“I’m going to return the favor, Y/N.”

Words escaped you, but somehow you managed to stutter out, “I didn’t think you knew my name.”

“Well, when I hear other guys say your name, I catch on pretty quickly,” he muttered gruffly as he pulled  off the flannel and shirt, leaving him standing before you. He, by no means, had abs, but you could tell he was fit. Your breath hitched as he stuffed a hand down his pants, groping himself. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he moaned out. Your eyes fluttered shut as you reveled in the sounds of him jerking off.

“You don’t know how many cold showers I had to take because of you,” he groaned, soon releasing himself and letting the joggers’ waistband snap back against his hips.

The whole thing seemed a little more than surreal, but you’d been daydreaming of such an event to happen since your first encounter with this guy. He climbed on the bed and moved towards you, but he made no effort to get you to suck him off. Instead, he gripped your hips harshly and pulled you towards him, an action that somehow struck a chord within you.

“Can I kiss you, y/n?” Without a thought, you nodded, and Taehyung moved his hands to the back of your neck and pressed your lips to his, a hard kiss from the start. He pulled your face towards him, getting as impossibly close as he could, and when he realized that there was no space between the two of you, his hands slid down your back, holding you against him. You could feel his tongue begin to trace your bottom lip, and when you opened your mouth, you felt his tongue wrap around your own.

A hand reached between you and he shoved his fingers into your wet entrance without warning, making your breath hitch and you arch your chest into him. He moans your name into your mouth, biting your lip. You hadn’t realized your clothes had been tossed to the side until Taehyung tugged your lip one last time, trailing butterfly kisses down your chest between your breasts until he reached just above your navel. With two fingers inside you, teasing you into sin, his other hand took hold of your breast, pinching the nipple between his finger and thumb.

You moaned aloud, an incoherent word that suspiciously sounded a lot like the boy’s name. His wet mouth sucked on the other nipple with some TLC, and he soon released with the sound of a pop.

“Feel good,” he asked huskily, and all you could do was moan. “Are you close?” You were close. So close, that you knew that the next thing he did would make you dirty his sheets, and he knew it, too. He pressed another kiss between your breasts before removing all his hands from your body.

Taehyung gazed at you with lust evident in his eyes, as you lay there a moaning mess.

“Tae…” you moaned, moving your own hands to your core, but he moved restricted you from doing so. He gripped both your thighs and parted your legs before his head dipped down, tongue licking his lip. You didn’t know what to expect, but when you felt it, your hands immediately tore the hat off his head, fingers tangling themselves into his hair as you pulled him into your pussy.

You let out a string of ‘Yes’ and ‘fuck’, moaning, “That feels so good.” His tongue swirled inside of you and you panted with desire, insides knotting up until you felt the need to unravel.

“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, and Taehyung’s left hand came to rest on your stomach. You suddenly became aware of the cold metal of his ring against your scalding skin.

“Not yet.”

“Tae–”

“Not yet,” he demanded, and his tongue left you. He pressed an open mouthed kiss to your pussy and slurped the leaking juices with a pop before rising, hand stuffed down the front of his pants once again, this time to release himself from the restraint.

“Condom,” you managed to stutter out, using all your resolve to keep from squirting, but he shook his head, positioning himself. “Taehyung, condom.”

He didn't waste much time grabbing a package and ripping it open, and once the device was rolled on, he thrust into you. It was a hard thrust, forceful enough that you slid back, but he wanted to fill you up. You felt the strings of your internal knots break one by one, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise you black and blue, holding you steady so that you could feel every ounce of power he put behind each thrust.

It was painful, but the pleasure that chased the pain was much more overwhelming.

His teeth found the crook of your neck and he bit into the skin, not hard enough to break the skin, and he sucked hard. “On three,” his sexy voice was muffled, and he counted. You knew what he meant, and when he finally said the number, you felt all the strings snap, letting yourself release all you’d been holding in. At the same time, Taehyung had shot out, and you felt the warmth of him more present than before.

After his orgasm had ended, he pulled out lazily. He swooped down and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“Mind-blowing,” was all Taehyung said as he finally lay beside you.

“Tell me about it.” You felt soreness well up between your legs but nonetheless turned to face the blonde boy. “When I met you, I automatically thought of you as Bra Boy.” Taehyung cracked a smile and shot out an arm, wrapping it around you and pulling you into him.

“Since that changing room incident, you became my Lingerie Lover.”

Thanks for reading peoples. I hope this satisfied you all. :) send if requests if you have any!

[nalufever]

A Girl Worth Fighting For

Prompt:  White Day ~ A  Girl Worth Fighting For Pairing:  Nalu (can't resist) Rating:  fluffy Word count:  1646 'A Girl Worth Fighting For'

<><><><><><>

Summary:  Natsu navigates unspeakable horrors to win Lucy's  love ~ or ~ Natsu goes shopping, looking for the perfect white day gift.

<><><><><><>

A fun little drabble exchange for White Day tagging @impracticaldemon @ff-darkshininglight @cheer-chan @magerain @rizzy09

"Happy, are you sure this is the best department store in Magnolia?"  Natsu craned his head up to look at the fancy lettering on the big glass windows.  "Hudson's Em - poor - e - um?  Doesn't look that great.  You sure this the best one?"

"Well yeah, lookit all the stuff in the windows!"  Happy gestured to the fancy display of mannequins wearing the latest Heart Kreuz fashions.  "Mira and Erza love this place!"

"But will I find Lucy the perfect gift here?  She's not like other girls."

"Yeah, she's weird."  The exceed chortled and flew out of reach.  "But you're getting just as weird as her, worrying about finding a white day gift.  Give her fish!"

Natsu shook his head.  "If you're not gonna help you can leave."

"I wouldn't miss this for all the fish in the river."

Putting his worries aside for the moment, Natsu strode up to the double doors and entered Hudson's Emporium.  Clothes, shoes, handbags and luggage were on the immediate left; on the right were displays of sporting equipment, kitchenware and lamps.  

Natsu wandered aimlessly, Happy trailing behind him giving a constant stream of poor advice.  "Ooh!  Buy her a vacuum!  How 'bout hip waders?  Gym membership?  Lookit that muumuu, maybe they have one in her size."

Natsu glared at his exceed.  "Oi!  I said if you're not gonna help you could leave!"

His usual shit-eating grin in place, Happy responded.  "I never said I was gonna help - I said I wouldn't miss this for all the fish in the river!"

An announcement blared over the public address system:  "White Day Special Sale next to the food department starting in five minutes."

With shining eyes and hope reborn in his heart, Natsu let go of Happy.  "Lucy loves food!"

Rubbing his sore neck, Happy coughed.  "That's one thing we can agree on, she loves greasy food!"

They joined the torrents of men rushing to the back of the store also intent on procuring the perfect White Day gift for their special lady.  In between the food and millinery departments was a long table bedecked with a blinding white tablecloth.  Upon it was a dazzling selection of white items; from marshmallows and white chocolate to candles, coffee cups and lingerie - all astonishingly white.

All the men trudged closer beginning to paw the merchandise.  And once the P.A. system squawked alerting them to a time limit they began to toss through the sale items with terrible haste.

Natsu had never been subjected to such indignities before.  As a mage of incredible power and wild disregard for personal safety and the subtleties of personal space, Natsu had never, ever been elbowed in a brouhaha over merchandise.  Each man was desperately digging, searching for a cheap yet stylish and hopefully beloved gift for their special someone.

Happy flew overtop and dive-bombed the now swarming group of men pawing the selection of marshmallows, candles and skimpy night attire.  Competition got fiercer.  A fist-fight broke out over a set of mugs emblazoned with a cheesy 'love' print.  Three men were sprawled on the marble floor - tussling over a package containing white slippers, a nighty and robe.

Shouted threats, kicks and thrown elbows kept Natsu off balance. He had never seen non-mages act like guild members before - it was more than a little off-putting.  Finally his frozen state broke.  Natsu dove into the throng with a battle cry worthy of Erza fighting for the last piece of strawberry cake.  He searched with single-minded aim, finding and discarding novelty knickers embroidered with a suggestion he almost burst into flames just reading.  The candles were a bit tempting, but not nice enough he decided.  Marshmallows were 'meh', the chocolate too similar to what he'd received, the nightwear was all too nosebleed inducing and the mugs were honestly ugly.

The same voice emerged from the speakers:  "Final five minutes left in our White Day Special Sale!"

The table of sale items was now engulfed in a writhing sea of desperate men still seeking the perfect purchase to please their girlfriends.  Intent on one final item he'd had yet to examine, Natsu was taken unawares by two people playing tug of war with a large box.  The smaller of the two men fighting head-butted his opponent who then stumbled backwards, grabbed at the table trying to keep upright, and flung a white metal trivet as he fell - which happened to conk Natsu on his forehead, knocking him out. Happy dragged his friend under the table, hiding from the melee.  He lightly slapped Natsu's face and when that didn't work, he put some muscle into it.  Natsu roused ten minutes later as the special event table was being put away - the saleslady and her two assistants screaming were the perfect wake-up call.

A bit groggy and now with a dully pounding headache, Natsu ran with Happy as the three shop workers yelled 'pervert' at the top of their lungs.

Down a corridor and then up a set of stairs they found a quiet corner of the store.  More than a little depressed and despondent Natsu sighed and confided in Happy.  "That was my last hope.  White Day is tomorrow and I don't have the slightest idea of what to get Lucy."

"Let's have a snack!"  Happy tugged Natsu by the hand to a set of café tables and chairs.  "Hudson's has the best tako-yaki in town."

"Maybe food with help me think."  Natsu slumped into a seat.  "I just wanted to give her something as nice as she is."  Picking at the food Happy brought back, Natsu ate slowly and sparingly.  "The sale is over and I don't know what to do."

"We won't leave until you find something."

"You're the best, buddy!"

<><><><><><>

To mark the special occasion, Natsu entered the apartment building on Strawberry Street using the ground floor entrance after reminding Happy he had is own special gift to deliver to Charle.  Natsu trudged up the flights of stairs clutching Lucy's gift, wrapped in white paper and silver ribbon.  It wasn't as flashy as some of the gifts he'd seen available, nor as sexy as the underwear - but upon seeing it, he'd known his search was over.

Knuckles poised over the door, the slayer paused.  Natsu took a few deep calming breaths and shook his head to clear his thoughts.  He knocked and waited, shifting the parcel from under one arm to the other.

The door opened showing Lucy's welcoming face becoming confused.  "What are you doing?"

Natsu grinned.  "Is that how you greet a guest?  Weirdo."

"I don't think I've ever seen you use the door - or wait for me to let you in - or -"  Lucy went silent as she saw the gift - and more importantly - the gift tag that bore her name in big swooping letters.  "Come in."

Natsu remembered his uncertainty over his gift and his swagger lost a lot of his strut.  He covered up his lapse in poise by setting down the gift box on the coffee table and dropping into his usual spot on Lucy's couch.  Natsu clasped his fingers together and puffed air, blowing the unruly lock of hair that covered one eye out of the way.

"What happened?"  Lucy couldn't stop herself from leaning over close from her seat and gently tracing over the band-aid over his eyebrow, full of concern for her best friend.  "Does it hurt?"

His cheeks coloured a dull pink, clashing with his hair.  "Nothin'.  An' it only hurts a little bit."

"You have to take care of yourself you know."

"Yeah - but it was for a good reason."  He gave Lucy a timid smile.  "Remember those chocolates you made for me?"

She nodded and bit her lip.  "I remember."

"Please accept this."  Natsu snatched up the box and thrust it at Lucy.  "It's not one of the traditional recommended gifts, but as soon as I saw it I wanted you to have it."

"…"  Lucy took hold of the proffered box.  "Thank you."  She smiled and her eyes gleamed with unshed tears.  "You didn't have to get me anything.  I did hope but I wasn't expecting."  Lucy stared at the pretty white paper with silver ribbon on her lap and traced her name on the card.

"Open it."  Eagerness coloured Natsu's voice as he encouraged Lucy.  "I saw it and thought of you."

Lucy plucked the card off the gift and set it aside on the table (that was going into her scrapbook later).  Lucy tugged on the ribbon and set that beside the tag.  Using her nails she slit the tape all around the box lid.  Slowly she prised off the lid and sat silent.  Natsu had given her a selection of pens, ink and a leather bound notebook in the creamiest pale yellow colour.

She blinked, set the gift down on the table and held out her hands to Natsu who was holding his breath as he tried to figure out if Lucy was pleased.  Her eyes sparkled and in that instant Natsu knew Lucy was happy.  He lunged forward hugging her; wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, breathing in calming air.  "I'm so glad you like it!"

"Yeah, I like …it…and you."

Natsu nodded, then realized Lucy couldn't see that - he needed to speak.  "I know, or else you wouldn't have taken so much time and care to make those chocolates."

Lucy blushed.  "This is a very thoughtful gift, but it's much more than three times the value of what I gave you.  You didn't -"

"Don't be such a weirdo."  Natsu pulled back so he could see Lucy's face.  He looked into her eyes as he rubbed his forehead.  "You're worth it, and never let it be said you're not a girl worth fighting for."

[businesscasualprincess]

Once Upon the N Train

CS Modern AU, Based partially on actual events...

Words: 3,066 | Rating: Soft T (Adult themes, suggestive dialog) | Ao3: x

Dedicated to all the lovelies in the Writer’s Hub, without whose encouragement and humor, I probably would have abandoned this days ago. ♥♥

After a mad dash across the platform, Emma scooted her way onto the subway car just as the doors closed. It was nearly empty, the only other person was a man near the back leaning against the window with his eyes closed. He had the collar of his tan trench coat popped up, covering most of his face, but Emma could see the bottoms of his grey suit pants and his shiny black oxford shoes. He’d clearly been working late at one of the downtown offices, catching a nap on his ride home in the quiet lull between the evening rush hour and the last-call crowd. 

Emma took her seat as the train lurched forward, setting her shopping bag on the spot next to her and pulling out her tablet to choose something to read. As a responsible and successful adult who was choosing to continue her professional education, she should probably have opened up the reading for her Advanced Topics in Criminology class, but it was Friday night and she wasn’t that responsible. Instead she tapped the cover of a cheesy romance novel about a time-traveling Viking with too many kids, and shifted in her seat to get comfortable for the ride home. 

“So, is it a gift or for yourself?” the sudden sound of the man’s voice startled Emma.

 “Excuse me?”

 “In your AdultMart bag.” he continued, English accent adding an unexpected amount of class to his words, “It’s definitely too heavy to be a DVD which would obviously be a gift because no one actually buys their porn in a store anymore. It’s also not heavy enough to be one of the nice vibrators or a glass dildo, which would obviously be for yourself because they’re too personal and expensive to be a gift. So that leaves us with either a small vibrator or some sort of silly lingerie, both of which could be a gift or not a gift.”

 “Who the hell are you?” Emma turned around, facing the man who was now clearly awake. He’d arranged the collar of his coat to lie flat again, revealing an handsome jawline peppered with stubble that was clearly intentional and dark hair that was just long enough to start to curl at the base of his neck. In addition to the trench, he also wore a waistcoat that matched his pants, though it was without the jacket that would have made it a true suit. His navy blue button down shirt had the top 3 buttons undone and the untied ends of a silver necktie dangled out under the collar. Emma was momentarily taken aback by how undressed he looked for someone still wearing so many layers. “And how the hell could you tell what store this came from?”

 “You can call me Killian,” he moved from his seat to the one behind hers, extending a hand for a shake, “and I’d recognize that bag design anywhere, I see it daily.”

 “Buddy, you just admitted to visiting a sex store on a daily basis, you’ll forgive me if I don’t touch your hand…” Emma’s better judgement told her that she should be fairly disgusted at this point. Sure, almost everyone indulges in a little of this sort of fun now and then, hell, she’d been about to crack into a pretty explicit romance novel herself just a few minutes ago, but it was not normal to go starting conversations with perfect strangers about it on empty train cars. “Still though, there’s really nothing special about this bag, I don’t see how you can tell it apart from any other gray bag.”

 So much for better judgement. Something about him compelled her to turn in her seat and face him fully, a clear invitation to continue the conversation. Well, at least her friend Ruby would be pleased to see she was ‘pursuing social interaction’.

 “Nothing special? Do you not see how this bag could be useful? It’s nice and thick, with those slick sides that help with insertion, and the size of it is just perfect, not too big and not too small…” Killian had reached over the seat to stroke the plastic as he spoke, his smooth voice lowering as his face drifted closer to hers, “...plus the color matches perfectly.”

 “Wait… what?” Emma snapped out of the ridiculous mesmerization he’d somehow managed to lure her into… where the hell did he get off having eyes that blue anyway?? He chuckled as her confusion played perfectly into his flirtatious teasing.

 “Well the interior of my car is quite similar in shade to this particular hue and they make excellent trash bags because they’re tough and nothing sticks to them. My sister-in-law, Tink, works at the store and she nicks me a bag or two sometimes.” he smiled again, “Actually, I imagine she was the one who sold you whatever is in there. Though, truth be told, I can’t say that I’ve ever made the time to go into the shop, myself.”

 On second thought this was probably exactly the kind of ‘social interaction’ Ruby would want her to have. Killian was funny and well-spoken, probably not an axe-murderer if he was on good terms with that blonde pixie of a woman who’d rung her out at the shop...and it didn’t hurt that he was ridiculously HOT. She could do worse on a Friday night, right?

 She glanced to his left hand, checking for a ring before she took this any further, only to discover that he didn’t actually have a left hand. His prosthetic was clearly top of the line with motorized fingers that moved as he shifted his arm, but she imagined that it would make more sense for him to wear any wedding bands on the other hand. It was impossible to be sure though, and she couldn’t think of a way to broach the subject without getting way to personal.

 When Emma met his eyes again (seriously, though, they HAD to be contacts), she realized he’d caught her staring at his hand. His flirtatious demeanor became reserved and embarrassed almost immediately.

 “Ah… I suppose I’ll just leave you to your reading, then.” Killian scratched behind his ear as he glanced back to where he had been sitting before, “I apologize if I’ve bothered you, I only meant my teasing in good fun. I… I hope you have a nice evening.”

 As he stood to move back to his original seat, Emma found herself reaching out to catch his arm. More than just wanting to make sure he knew that he was misinterpreting the reason she’d been scrutinizing his hand, she truly didn’t want their conversation to end.

 It had been months since her breakup with Mulan, and though it had been easy as breakups go, Emma hadn’t been in any hurry to get back out into the dating world, even for a one-nighter (much to Ruby’s abject horror).

 “It’s a gift.” Emma answered his original question as she gently directed him back into the seat, “For my brother’s fiancée to give to her at her bachelorette party next week. Well, technically she was my best friend first, before she was his fiancée, which is why it’s not weird that I got her this.”

 Emma pulled the lingerie box out of the bag, turning it so Killian could see the photo of what was inside. It was a Snow White themed bra and panties set, complete with puffy sleeves and a short blue cape.

 “So I’m guessing your brother is a real Prince Charming type, then? Probably always trying to do the noble thing?” Killian seemed to regain some of his previous swagger, encouraged by her smile, “I think I know someone like that.”

 “Let me guess,” Emma teased with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, “It’s you?”

 “Actually, it’s my brother, Liam, but by all means, tell me more about how you see me as a knight in shining armor.” Killian waggled his eyebrows suggestively. He leaned forward in the seat, smoothly invading her personal space. Instead of pulling away, she leaned in closer as well, causing the smile on his face to grow 3 sizes, as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Though I’ll let you in on a little secret: I prefer to think of myself as a dashing rapscallion.”

 “Rapscallion, eh? And just what mischief makes you worthy of such a title?” Emma was definitely playing with fire. She tried her best to shove the lump of anxiety down out of her throat. She’d been burned before by silver-tongued, self-styled bad boys and normally tried to avoid them, but something about Killian just felt so genuine and trustworthy.

 So much for better judgement. Still it was just flirting on a subway ride and she hadn’t even given him her name. There was only 1 more stop before she would be getting off anyway, so what was the harm?

 “Well, you see, love” Killian smiled conspiratorially, “I might be plotting to steal a kiss from a princess.”

 “And just how did a ‘Dashing Rapscallion’ come to be acquainted with a princess? Is she anyone I’d know?” Emma felt a blush rising in her cheeks, fairly certain she knew where this was headed, and surprised to find herself eager for his answer.

 “Don’t you know, love?” Killian took her hand in his, gripping her fingers to turn them so the back of her hand was facing up. He ran his thumb gently along her knuckles before placing a feather-light touch of his lips between her index and middle fingers, allowing himself to linger just a moment, his breath ghosting along her surprisingly sensitized skin, before meeting her eyes again, “It’s you.”

 Emma Swan had never understood the term “Fuckstruck” before, and really, she still didn’t understand it, but that was no longer due to lack of experience, and everything to do with the fact that her brain refused to think at all. Who was this man?

 “30th AVENUE STATION”

 “Shit.” Emma’s voice was barely above a whisper, her hand still in Killian’s, as she blinked to try to clear her head “I… umm… this is my stop. I… I have to go.”

 Emma stood up and moved towards the nearest door, hitting the stop request signal as she went. Her mind was still floating in a sea of seduction, unable to process the incredible effect such a short subway ride had had on her.

 “Wait!!” Killian rushed over to her as the door was opening, extending his hand with a small card in it. “This is my cellphone number. I would be honored if you chose to contact me again.”

 The door closed between them and Emma watched as it continued down the track until she could no longer make out Killian’s face in the window.

 Emma walked down the steps from the raised train platform to the street, still in deep thought, and completely lost in the events of the last 20 minutes, until her stomach gurgled, reminding her that she needed to pick something up if she wanted to eat dinner.

 She’d only been living in the neighborhood for a few weeks, and she wasn't totally familiar with her local take out options yet, so she ducked into the bodega on the corner to pick up supplies for grilled cheese.

 There were too many cheese choices for the current state of her mind.

She called her roommate. Elsa would know what to do.

 “Emma? Is something wrong? Did you accidentally take the wrong train?”

 “I'm fine, I'm at that little store on the corner getting stuff for grilled cheese. Do I want American or gouda?”

 “Okay, now I know something is wrong. I've known you since you were 16 when Aunt Ingrid adopted you and David. You've never, in that entire time, willingly eaten anything but that gross American cheese in the plastic wrapper on your sandwich. Do you remember that time the NYU cafeteria used cheddar instead? You submitted a 300-word Op-Ed to the school newspaper.”

 “I just have someon-- things on my mind today. It's really not the crisis you seem to think it is. I'm just asking if maybe you might feel like changing things up a little bit.”

 “Mmhmm. You know you don’t need my permission to ‘change things up’, Emma. If you feel like you're ready to take a chance on a new… what euphemism are we using again? Cheese? Then I think you probably owe it to yourself to give gouda a chance.”

 “Thanks, Elsa. I'll be home soon.”

 “Anytime, sweetie.”

 Emma bought the gouda and created a new contact in her phone for Killian's number. She would text him later that night after she’d eaten.

 Walking the final block to her building found Emma with a smile stretched wide across her face, it was almost embarrassing. It was a very new feeling, she was not the sort of person who opened up easily. Years of being bounced around and practically forgotten in the foster system had left deep scars. Even though the unconditional love and sense of belonging she’d eventually found in Ingrid’s home had smoothed out a few of the rough edges, Emma still found it difficult to bond with other people. In fact, that had been a large part of why her relationship with Mulan had ended. They were both too reserved and each needed a more passionate and affectionate partner to draw them out of their comfort zones.

 It wasn’t like Killian had been the first such person she’d met, though. Most recently, Graham had had a keen sense of humor and plenty of affection for her, but she’d spent nearly an entire day with him in Central Park without sparking nearly half as much chemistry as she had in 20 minutes on the N train with Killian. Their new connection was something scary and real and Emma was more than a little worried that the longer she waited to text him, the more likely she would be to get cold feet.

 She pulled out her phone and began composing a message, so intent on hitting the right balance between witty and sincere that she barely even thanked the man who held the door for her as she entered her building behind him.

 “You know, princess, this is New York City. You might want to pay more attention to your surroundings than your phone. You never know when some ne'er do well cad might sneak up on you and take advantage.” it was him. He was there. Killian. Standing in the entry hall of her building. Lecturing her about making a tourist-level mistake.

 “What are you doing here?” she cringed internally at her own question. The man was actively opening one of the mailboxes with a key. He obviously was a resident in her building.

 “I could ask the same of you, love. Do you often go following strange men into their buildings when you’re deep in thought?” he was teasing her again.

 “Well…” Emma brought out her own key, showing it off before she opened the mailbox she shared with Elsa, trying to convey with raised eyebrows and a coy smirk that it was her building too. “You didn’t get off at 31st avenue though. I watched you as the train pulled away. What happened?”

 “Oh… that…” Killian scratched behind his ear, “Well when I saw you were also getting off at my stop, and I had just kissed your hand, and we we’re having a moment… I decided to ride to the next stop. I… I didn’t want you to feel like I was following you, I mean… I started off our conversation asking about what you’d bought in a sex shop. If I’d followed you off of the train too… you might have gotten a very wrong impression of my intent.”

 “You rode all the way up to Astoria? That’s an extra half mile of walking just because you didn’t want me to feel uncomfortable?” Emma was astounded that he would literally go out of his way to accommodate her feelings. Any other guy would have just gotten off the train with her and maybe doubled back a little until she was out of sight if they were feeling generous. This had been consideration above and beyond what most people would do for, essentially, a stranger.

 “Aye.”

 It wasn’t the kind of gesture she was used to, and with his confirmation, the feelings overwhelmed her, spurring her to action. Emma stepped into Killian’s space, taking both his real hand and his prosthetic in each of her own, lacing their fingers together as she leaned in to kiss him.

 She could tell he was unsure of her intent by the way he kept perfectly still, waiting for her lips to make first contact. Once she made it clear that she intended to kiss him for real, not just a chaste peck, his response was enthusiastic.

 Their arms entwined around each other gripping and tugging at collars and sleeves and anywhere else their fingers could gain purchase. Killian was the first to eagerly open his mouth, teasing Emma’s lips with his tongue as he tried to entice her to join him in a passionate exploration of each other’s mouths. They were playful in their competition for who would get the upper hand in leading the kiss, but still found they had to break apart for oxygen before there was a clear winner.

 The couple kept their faces close, foreheads touching, breath still mingling, as they came down from their high.

 “This is going to seem like a silly question, love, considering the, frankly, life-changing kiss we just shared,” Killian still hadn’t completely caught his breath as he chuckled through his question, “But do you think you’d mind telling me your name?”

 Emma couldn’t help her outburst of giggles. The whole situation was so ridiculous and out of order, that she felt like it wouldn’t be wrong to allow it to continue that way for a bit longer.

 “I don’t know, I am certainly warming up to being called Princess.” she said, pulling him to the stairs, “Why don’t you join me for a grilled cheese sandwich and see if you can wheedle my name out of my roommate?”

 “I can’t think of another way I’d rather spend the evening.” he grinned, following close behind.

[taneyhana]

Why I Kissed You || Alyssa & Taney || August 2016

Alyssa comes over to try on some of Taney’s clothes as she packs up her place at Oceanside to move into Lucas, wanting to get rid of as much as possible. Things heat up in between outfits and Taney lures Alyssa into her bed.

Taney: Taney maneuvered through boxes to answer the door. She knew Alyssa was coming, so she put on a black lace bralette and tiny denim shorts. "Hey gorgeous!" Taney greeted her and pulled her in. "I don't even know how it happened. I guess I got less worried about buying clothes when I won Ink Masters. Anyways, I know you've got similar style to me so try on some things, take as much as you want. Seriously, I'm naked 90% of the time."

Alyssa peeked her head in and looked at the sea of boxes. Definitely the right place. She smiled and waved. "Hey thanks for inviting me." She followed Taney as she pulled her in. Alyssa liked Taney, she had an edge to her, but she was still nice to Alyssa. "Uh well.. which ones are you keeping? I don't want to take anything that you still want."

Taney: "The stuff I need I already chucked into a suitcase. You're good to try on and take whatever's up here." Taney led her up to the loft part of the apartment that she'd used as the bedroom. "There's the closet and dresser, and the basket over here has clean laundry I never folded." She pointed as she talked and flopped onto the bed. "What's new with you, gorgeous? Have you been going to Flex Appeal without me?"

Alyssa nodded and looked around the apartment. She glanced around the room at the different things she was pointing out. There seemed to be a lot that would work for her. "Without you? No not really. I didn't sign up for a membership.. just sort of mooching off of yours" She laughed lightly as she picked up a shirt from the basket, holding it up to her frame. "I got a new job" She bounced on her toes unable to hide the excitement she felt just mentioning a new job.

Taney: smiled and laughed, "Mooch away, pretty lady, I enjoy your company!" Taney waved for her to try the shirt on. "Congratulations! Tell me about the new job!"

Alyssa was not shy about her body. She had been a stripper in the past, amongst other jobs. Most of the time in the apartment she wore a t-shirt and underwear. Cavin didn't seem bothered by it so she kept it that way. Taking off her shirt, she revealed her bare skin. Alyssa rarely wore a bra. The one she had was in the wash anyway. "Well, it's at the hospital.." She pulled the shirt down over her head. "And it is in the Community Outreach program. So I am super excited about that"

Taney: Taney had seen plenty of Alyssa at yoga, she knew the lines her body could make and the way she moved. Taney had also always been vocal in her compliments when she thought someone was attractive. She watched the shirt go over her friend's head and thought about those toned muscles while she listened to her talk, "CC West? They do amazing things there. I get free child care there for Wednesday without compromising her learning if I would've put her in a posh one. What does Community Outreach entail?"

Alyssa looked for a mirror and upon finding one looked at herself in the shirt. It looked good on her. It didn't fight too tight, but it wasn't massive. Besides, she was in no position to turn down clothes. "Yeah I am so excited to start working there. Free child care? Oh I have heard that's a big deal. Girls I used to work with really struggled with child care." She grabbed a pair of black jeans, and held them up. they were a little short and Alyssa knew if she tried to fit her butt into the jeans they would be even shorter. Still, she would try them on and possibly cut them off into shorts. Alyssa pulled down her manly cargo-esque shorts. "Well it's just doing things that are helpful. So doing things for the homeless, or trauma victims or big tragedies. Things like that" Stepping out of her shorts, she pulled the jeans up over her pale purple thong. Wiggling her hips to try to fit them over her thighs, she jumped and they slipped on.

Taney: "It is a big deal since rent in Los Angeles costs so much. Her father and I would have split the cost if there was any, but luckily we won't have to. I don't want to split or share anything thing with that guy." She laughed and rolled off the bed, slipping into the closet to grab one of the large hemp bags she took with her when she went grocery shopping. She nodded, "Is that putting you under Boyce? I know he handles emergency response stuff." She watched her butt wiggle into the jeans. "If the jeans aren't fitting right it's probably because you'd got such a better butt than me. There are skirts and dresses, too... some might even be good for the new j-o-b."

Alyssa rolled her eyes at the mention of rent in Los Angeles. "Don't even get me started. I checked prices when I first got here and I wanted to cry. Luckily, Cavin is the nicest person on this earth and lets me stay with him as long as I take care of the place." She turned and looked at Taney when she mentioned her ex. "Yeah, my ex was pretty bad too." She smiled having yet another thing in common with her. "Yeah I'm under Boyce. I don't know him too well but he seems nice." She laughed at the mention of her butt. "I have the huge Greek thighs that make pants impossible. I will definitely take a look at the dresses though. I need to look more professional." She slid the pants back down wondering if she should take them or not.

Alyssa rolled her eyes at the mention of rent in Los Angeles. "Don't even get me started. I checked prices when I first got here and I wanted to cry. Luckily, Cavin is the nicest person on this earth and lets me stay with him as long as I take care of the place." She turned and looked at Taney when she mentioned her ex. "Yeah, my ex was pretty bad too." She smiled having yet another thing in common with her. "Yeah I'm under Boyce. I don't know him too well but he seems nice." She laughed at the mention of her butt. "I have the huge Greek thighs that make pants impossible. I will definitely take a look at the dresses though. I need to look more professional." She slid the pants back down wondering if she should take them or not.

Taney: Wednesday's father did the same thing. I was living in a Super 8 hotel when I first moved to Los Angeles and I had a decent amount of money but not enough for a first and last month's deposit." Taney shrugged, she may be afraid of Mav but she still loved him...even though she knew it was unrequited and toxic. "Boyce is awesome, very funny and nice." Taney folded the pants and tucked them in the bag. "Who knows, maybe the yoga will lean out those sexy Greek thighs. I like 'em how they are though." She giggled and playfully flicked Alyssa's leg. "There are heels and flats in the closet too. I wear size 6."

Alyssa nodded thinking it would have been nice to have been in a hotel for a while. Luckily her shelter streak didn't last too long here. "Well at least you are here and away from him right?" She smiled hearing about her new coworker. "That's awesome. I can't wait to get started. I hope I do okay." She laughed at the thought of her thighs ever getting smaller. "That's pretty much impossible. They stay this size no matter what." Alyssa started laughing when she was offered shoes. Looking down at her severely worn tennis shoes she wiggled her toes. "Yeah I am a size nine."

Taney: She nodded, "Yeah, but it's still stressful being homeless. Lucas won't let me end up on the street, but I don't want to impose too long." Taney smiled a little, Alyssa was right, anywhere was better than back at her ex's house. "When are you starting?" Taney popped off the bed and moved to the small top left drawer of her dresser. It was supposed to be for jewelry but as she'd packed she chucked bits and bobs she found. She pulled out a gift card for DSW and another for target and flopped back on the bed, tucking them in the hemp bag. "Damn, I'll probably have to post them on the network then. I'm sure you'll find a nice pair of black heels and black flats for the new job. I vote heels though because you have to show of all of this." Taney smirked and gestured to Alyssa's ass and legs.

Alyssa looked down still unwilling to tell people what her living situation had been previous to Cavin. "That's nice of Lucas." She shrugged and looked back at Taney "I think Monday. Or that's what I would assume. Some paperwork might still need to be ironed out." She took off her shirt and flipped through the dresses. There were so many, but Alyssa did not want to be greedy. "Heels I can do. I can walk in heels like nobody's business." She was used to heels from her stripping days. She laughed when Taney gestured to her ass. Wiggling her butt playfully, she grinned and turned back towards the dresses, searching through them. Trying to find the perfect first day outfit.

Taney: Taney saw a lot of her self in Alyssa and it made her appreciate where she was. It also made her happy that Micah was helping people like Alyssa, but Taney kept these thoughts to herself. Instead, she watched Alyssa flip through the dresses. “Try them all on. I packed what I’m keeping and it’ll be a pain in the ass to lug them to a donation place. Seriously, most of them are work appropriate with some tights and a cardigan. Do you have stockings, a garter belt, and all that?”

Alyssa turned and looked at all the dresses. She of course didn't need all of them. She'd rather see that some get donated. She glanced at taney pure confusion written on her face. "What is a garter belt?" She picked a simple black dress off the hanger and held it up. "Think this one will look okay?"

Taney: With a smile Taney popped into the closet where she’d left lingerie she’d not packed, a lot of which still had tags. Her sex life happened to entail the destruction of lingerie with more frequency than even she cared to admit. So she rifled through and turned up with new things. She set it all on the bed and approached Alyssa slowly. “May I dress you up and show you? The dress will look lovely over it all, I promise.”

Alyssa looked at all of the lacy, silky things laid out on the bed. It reminded her of her days as a stripper. But even then, nothing she owned was that nice. Tracing her fingertips over the material, she couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like on and if she'd look good. 'Okay.. sure" She smiled but kept her eyes on the lingerie she already started to want.

Taney: Taney was slow and careful with her movements. As much of a stereotype as it may have been, women were truly a harder read than men. What she new about Alyssa always surprised her and she knew that they were similar and some ways, her quietness at times and the maturity and expressions on her face made Taney think there was even more they had in common that had yet to be revealed. So, as her finger slipped underneath the fabric touching Alyssa’s skin, she let her fingers spread wide, enjoying her warm skin rather than pressing her lips to the exposed flesh. Alyssa’s eyes were on the lingerie and Taney’s were on hers. Taney softly turned her friend at the hips so that her bare body faced the mirror. She took the time to explain how it worked, why it worked, and the perfect lines and styles for Alyssa’s body type. Taney’s fingers drew those lines across Alyssa’s skin and when she was done, wound up and wanting to taste her she kissed Alyssa’s shoulder before resting her chin here. Looking in the mirror Taney locked eyes with Alyssa, trying to read how she felt about being touched, kissed, and doted on by another woman. “You are so absolutely beautiful, Alyssa.” With a dreamy sigh she laid on the bed next to the lingerie. She had made the first move, now Alyssa would have to choose, put on the lingerie and the dress or take the kiss and put a temporary pause on the closet raid.

Alyssa watched as Taney traced her fingertips across her skin. She listened carefully to everything Taney said, being drawn in naturally by Taney's magnetism. Taney kissing her shoulder like that sent shivers through her body. This wasn't like when she worked at the club. The girls all played, but were all rolling on something or another. It was just a side effect. This was real. Taney's comment and her interest. Alyssa naturally turned and watched as Taney went back to the bed. Like a bug drawn to the light, Alyssa followed without hesitation. Climbing on the bed, she flung one leg over Taney, straddling her. "You're beautiful too." Her hands moved down and tucked under Taney's shirt.

Taney: It was a pleasant surprise to see Alyssa taking the initiative. When Alyssa’s hands wandered up her shirt she let her own wander up the girl’s arms until the made it to her neck, pulling the girl down to her for a kiss. Taney let her fingers tangle in the soft brown hair as her lips parted and her tongue tasted. It was always exciting to find someone new to take in. Alyssa had always been high on her mental list of people to play with and now that it was happening she took her time to drink her in. When Taney’s green eyes opened there was a cat-like grin on her face. She rolled Alyssa over and rocked her hips into the young woman. “I’d like to play with you, if you want.” Taney was, as per usual, in the mood. Kissing was one thing, but she wouldn’t move forward without the okay. As she waited her hands pawed at the exposed bits of Alyssa’s flesh, tickling her gently.