#not very thigh focused :pray:

[ahollowgrave]

-- mercy.

[aemondsbabe]

Give Me an O!

summary: billy walks in on you in a bit of a compromising situation, and you finally go after what you want

pairing: billy hargrove x cheerleader!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is very flexible, minor injury it's fine, piv sex, unprotected sex oopsy daisy, public sex technically, hand over mouth, fingering, breast/nipple play if you blink, dirty talk, reader's hair is long enough that she can have a ponytail but no other physical descriptors are used, billy is a himbo, steve harrington cameo

word count: 5k

a/n: finally getting around to a request from @sweetshifter! thank you for the idea bby & i hope ya enjoy! also, my first time writing for stranger things! yay! images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @unwanted-animal

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“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Your best friend asks as she slings her gym bag over her shoulder, “I don’t mind staying a couple minutes.”

“Nah,” you shrug, still panting a little from practice as you lean to the side with a little sigh, stretching down toward your leg, “You go on, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Alright, cool,” she chirps, glossy lips flicking up into that sincere, beaming smile that had become her signature, “Bye!” She calls over her shoulder as she turns, white tennis shoes thumping against the shiny wooden floor as your name echoes around the gym. 

“Bye, Chrissy!” You reply with a smile, glancing up as the heavy metal doors at the side of the room click closed, leaving you alone for the time being. 

With a tired huff, you check your watch, one that matched Chrissy’s exactly – gold with a baby pink face. You’d gotten them at the mall last summer, a joint birthday present. 

4:34pm.

A sigh leaves your lips as you lunge forward, hands planted firmly on your hips as you try to ignore the slight burn in your thigh. So, that’s… like, forty-five minutes until basketball practice starts, you think, eyes pointed up at the white metal ceiling as you do mental math, trying to figure out exactly how long you’ll have to work on your stretches. 

Deciding to give yourself a few more minutes before calling it a day, you breathe out steadily through your pursed lips as you switch sides and lunge forward again, savoring the light burn in your calf. After a fifteen second count, you move onto your hands and knees, needing to stretch out your back. 

You hum softly under your breath, one hand planted firmly against the blue tumbling mat beneath you as the other reaches back and grabs onto one of your ankles, your limbs forming a graceful arch above you. A small grunt leaves you as you pull your leg up as high as you can, before dropping it down and reaching back with your other hand to do the other side. Mid-pose, you swear you hear one of the gym doors click open, the one out to the hallway with the locker rooms and various storage closets judging by the direction, but you’re so focused on holding your pose, you honestly can’t be sure. 

Huffing, you decide to just ignore it – Probably just the janitor or something, you think, keeping your eyes focused, once again, on the white metal ceiling as you roll over onto your back. 

Breathing steadily, you let your eyes slip closed as you press both legs together before slowly lifting them up, using your hands and elbows to support your back as you lift onto your shoulders. Wincing slightly at the twinge of pain from your left one, you work through it, trying to keep your breath steady. As your green and gold cheer skirt pools at your waist, you silently pray that if it is a janitor, that it’s at least not the creepy one.

Slowly but surely, you work both legs up and over your head until the tips of your white sneakers press into the mat, your arms planted firmly onto the floor for support. 

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, you count silently, breathing a little shakily as you focus on balancing… and on ignoring your shoulder. 

Suddenly, a loud wolf-whistle cuts through the silence of the gym, punctuated by a few slow claps and the heavy footsteps of someone walking across the wooden gym floor. 

“Aah!” You squeak as you topple to the side, concentration thoroughly broken. Huffing, you prop yourself up on one elbow as your head snaps up, eyes already narrowed into an irritated glare. Upon seeing who it is, you can’t help but sneer.

“Can I help you, Hargrove?” You sigh, exasperated, rolling your eyes as you angle both legs out in a side split, determined to get through your stretches even with the added annoyance of Billy’s presence.

“Just admiring the view, princess,” he drawls, blue eyes trailing up the length of each of your spread legs in a way that makes your cheeks flush, “You’re real good at that, aren’t you?” He questions, plump lips quirked up into that signature, flirtatious smirk. 

“Good at what?” You ask, brows furrowing as you bend over to the left, easily grasping the toe of your tennis shoe as the muscles in your legs stretch into a taut, familiar ache. 

He chuckles at that, hands on his hips as he studies you, the spicy, woodsy smell of his cologne filling the space around you. He cocks his head to the side, pearly white teeth flashing every few seconds as he chews a piece of gum. 

“Stretching,” he all but purrs, golden curls blowing slightly from the large fans that hum loudly on the ceiling. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he ogles at you, watching carefully as you bend to the right, “I bet it’d be really easy to just fold you up like a pretzel, huh, sweets?” 

With a sigh, you finally let yourself relax for a moment and tilt your head up to look at the boy as you lean back on your hands, your ponytail swishing across your shoulder blades as you do. 

“In your dreams, Billy,” you murmur, trying to keep the expression on your face plaid, wholly uninterested, which is easier said than done. 

You don’t like Billy, and you’re very quick to correct anyone who says you do, even if it is just friendly teasing. But, well, there’s something about him that just draws people into his orbit – charisma combined with a certain mystique. You knew from talking to the girls in the locker room that he was a lady’s man, and a player, but from how they all talked about him, there appeared to be something more there, some hidden layer that no one had been able to crack yet. He’s different from the other boys in Hawkins, no small town charm to hide behind. 

Plus, come on, he’s gorgeous. You might not be Billy’s biggest fan but you have eyes. 

“Damn right, in my dreams,” he murmurs, pulling you from your thoughts as he draws out every syllable of your name in a low, husky tone, familiar smirk playing at his lips like always. 

Cocking your head, you narrow your eyes as you peer up at him, “Aren’t you going out with Amber now?”

“Wouldn’t exactly call it going out…,” he answers as he bends down on one knee to retie the laces of his shoe, shooting you a little wink as he does so. 

“Does Amber know that?”

He pauses at that, a little huff of laughter bubbling up from his chest as he fixes you with a grin that is much too self-satisfied for your liking. “Now, princess,” he starts slowly, blue eyes narrowing at you playfully as he rests a forearm across his knee, “Why do you care so much about what I’m doing with Amber?”

“She’s my friend, Billy,” you say, sitting up a little more, the chill from the AC units making the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. 

“So, it’s definitely not because you’re, I dunno, jealous or anything?”

“No!” You cringe inwardly as you say it, too quick and too defensive and just what the blue eyed boy had been hoping for, judging by the smug grin plastered on his face. 

This is how it’s been between the two of you for months now, ever since his stupid Camaro had rumbled into the school’s parking lot way back in August. Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of teasing jokes, sitting through History class after History class as you feel those blue eyes practically boring a hole in the back of your head, and somehow mustering up the willpower to dodge his advances. 

In the nearly three months since his arrival, Billy had managed to charm his way through at least a handful of girls, maybe more depending on which rumors you listen to, but you are determined not to fall for it, not to be just another notch on his bedpost. 

Which would be a lot easier if he’d leave you the hell alone. 

Flustered, you pull your knees up, tucking your chin over top of them as your arms wrap around your calves, silently rolling your eyes as Billy drops to the blue tumbling mat, rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh, making it clear to you that he was here to stay. 

“Why’re you here so early, anyway?” You question, glancing at your watch once more, “Basketball practice isn’t for, like, another half hour.” 

“Had to drop my stupid step-sister off at some trash arcade,” he grunts, annoyed, “Didn’t wanna waste the gas to go all the way home, plus…,” he pauses, tilting his head to the side to slyly grin at you once more, “I figured I might get here early enough to catch the end of cheer practice.” 

“Creep,” you scoff, much more playfully than you’d intended to. 

The two of you fall into a, surprisingly, comfortable beat of silence. You let your eyes trail over Billy as his own droop shut, one arm propped behind his head as he lazes on the gym mat, jaw clenching every so often as he works the gum in his mouth. You start at his feet, taking in the faded black canvas material of his Converse before you let your eyes roam up his long, tanned, muscular legs. Finally, you reach the familiar dark green shade of his school-branded shorts and your eyes wander up the expanse of his stomach and chest, covered by the grey t-shirt he wears, the familiar eyes of Hawkins High’s tiger mascot staring blankly into your own. 

You nearly gasp as your eyes trail up to his face again, only to find his steely eyes already looking at you, a knowing smirk etched into his face as you feel the apples of your cheeks flush. 

“It’s rude to stare, princess,” Billy drawls, catching you red handed.

“And it’s not rude to perv on me stretching?” 

“Never said it wasn’t,” he shrugs with a little chuckle, sitting up and resting one forearm on a bent knee. You merely roll your eyes as he studies you for a second, the blush on your cheeks deepening enough that you can feel the slight tingle of blood rushing under the surface. 

“Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head as you stretch your legs out in front of you again. You stretch forward again, letting out a breath as you grab at your ankles and try to ignore the way Billy sits up, propping his forearm up on a bent knee. 

“Could you, like, put your legs behind your head and all that?” 

“Probably,” you say with a little eye roll. 

“Will you?”

“Not for you!” 

The two of you carry on like that for a moment longer — you working through various stretches and familiar yoga poses as Billy seems overly curious about each one, questioning if you can twist into all kinds of poses. 

“Can you do a handstand and do the splits?” He questions, grinning when you groan in frustration, eyes trailing up your long legs to the bottom of your short cheer skirt. 

With a huff, you stand with one hand on your hip, the other pinching at the bridge of your nose as Billy’s incessant questions throw you off the silent count in your head again.

“Did you want something or are you just trying fuck me over?” 

“Mmm, close, princess,” the blond teases, earning another glare from you. Playfully, he holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re single, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking triumphantly at the way you balk.

“I’m not talking about this with you, Hargrove.”

His smirk widens when you don’t deny it, blue eyes darkening as they travel over the length of your body once more. “Look, all I’m saying is that the guys talk in the locker room and… well, I can’t help but notice that your pretty name just doesn’t come up.”

“Maybe I have better things to do than put out for you assholes,” you smirk, quickly stretching out your problem shoulder before kneeling back on the tumbling mat, meaning to finish up with a couple quick pushups.

Undeterred, Billy merely matches your smirk with one of his own, watching as you kneel next to him. “Just come with me to Harrington’s Halloween party next weekend, sweetness,” he offers, his voice a low rumble, “Come on, a couple hours, some drinks. Hell, I’ll even dress up with you, whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” you hum, taking a second to tighten your ponytail as you shoot him a playful little smile, “Whatever I want, huh?” 

“Name it,” he says lowly, watching appreciatively as you get on all fours. 

“Okay, how about…,” you stall, drawing out your words as you extend your legs behind you, grunting softly as your shoulder zings with pain once more, “Willie and Indiana Jo– Ah!” You cut yourself off, exclaiming in pain as you land with a small thud on the mat, wincing. 

“Whoa, hey,” Billy says softly, scrambling onto his knees, brows furrowed as he gingerly helps you roll over onto your back, “You okay?”

You nod, glancing away with a little embarrassed huff as you rub at your shoulder. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just probably sprained it earlier during practice or something.”

“Lemme take a look at it,” he says, offering a hand to help you up.

Not expecting such chivalrous behavior from Hargrove of all people, you only nod dumbly and let him pull you up off the mat, chest heaving.

“Here,” he murmurs, gently nudging at your arm until you turn your back to him. You can hear the tumbling mat crinkle as he steps closer to you, the warmth from his chest practically radiating through his t-shirt as the spicy musk of his cologne seems to envelope you once again. 

“You better not be using this as an excuse to feel me up,” you warn, albeit playfully, pulling your ponytail over the opposite shoulder. 

“In your dreams,” he teases, goosebumps peppering your skin from the low way he says your name and from the gentle brush of his fingers over the back of your arm as they trail their way up to your shoulder. 

He’s silent for a moment, carefully pressing warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin, watching until you wince just slightly when he pokes at your shoulder blade. “That’s where it hurts?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, lips parting ever so slightly as he kneads around the area. You can practically feel him smirking when you sigh a moment later, his fingers working perfectly over the sore muscle as his other hand anchors itself at your hip, “You’re… actually, like, really good at this,” you murmur with a little laugh, needing to find some way to break the silence. 

“My mom is – was, she was a masseuse, back when we lived in Cali,” Billy explains, leaning in closer, his lips all but brushing against your ear as he speaks softly, like he’s telling you some deep, dark secret, “I might’ve looked at one or two of her books.” 

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowing as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.

“Sue me, I was thirteen and they had nudes in ‘em,” he chuckles, biting into his bottom lip when your breathy laugh morphs into a moan when he presses just right against your shoulder. The fingers of his other hand tighten on your hip as he pulls you back against him, his lips just barely grazing over the crook of your neck, “But I still picked up a thing or two.”

“Clearly,” you breathe, brows tugging together as you tilt your head to the side, an open invitation. The blond doesn’t need any more convincing and you let your eyes flutter shut as his lips descend upon your neck, pressing hot kisses against the sensitive skin. 

The rise and fall of your chest grows shallow as the two of you seem to lose yourselves; you gasp as the hand on your hip trails down over your thigh, until Billy can drag the tips of his fingers beneath the white and gold hem of your pleated skirt just as the hand on your shoulder begins slowly moving around your ribs, to your front. Despite the AC units humming away, you can’t help but feel flush as he presses himself against you, already half-hard against the small of your back. 

With a gasp, you jerk away from him at the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway, muffled voices and laughter filtering in through the closed doors of the gym. 

“Dammit,” Billy mumbles behind you as he quickly glances at the clock hanging above one of the exits, sighing disappointedly when he sees the time – fifteen minutes until practice. 

Deciding to finally give in to the wants you’ve been harboring for months, you grab one of his hands and playfully bite your lip, nodding to one of the sets of gym doors, “Follow me.” 

Smirking, he follows behind you as you quickly make your way to the doors, both of you pausing for a second to make sure the coast is clear before you bolt down the hallway. A second later, you’re pushing Billy through a door into a random classroom.

“This is the old Health room,” you explain, gasping as he turns and presses you against the old door, the metal of it cool against your back as you quickly scan over the empty room, dim other than the early evening light spilling in through the thin slats of the blinds, “No one ever comes in here.”

“Uh huh, fascinating,” he nods, turning his head to spit his gum into a small trash can by the door, before eagerly pressing his lips to yours. He smirks into the kiss as you mewl, his lips parting to quickly swallow the sweet sounds you make.  

Always one to give as good as you get, your lips move against his just as fervently, both of your hands trailing up underneath his t-shirt as you rub over his stomach, muscles taut under your touch. His tongue slips into your mouth in the same second he presses against you, his thin gym shorts doing nothing to conceal the hardness of his length as it presses against your lower stomach. 

You arch into his touch as his hands cup your breasts through your uniform, a low growl rumbling through his chest as you rake your nails over his chest and down his stomach. Boldly, you reach down and palm at his cock, savoring the surprised grunt he lets out before you quickly nudge your hand down the front of his shorts and into his boxers. 

“Shit,” he breathes, one hand still kneading at your breast as the other skates back up your thigh, his forehead resting against yours. Biting your lip, you watch through hooded eyes as you experimentally stroke over his cock, marveling at how hard he already is, like velvet over steel. 

Just as you feel him twitch in your grasp, the blond pulls away from you with a teasing grin and presses one last kiss against your lips before tapping the back of your thighs, urging you to jump. 

“Fuck, there you go,” Billy rasps, fingers digging into the curve of your ass as you clamber up into his arms, your shoulder only barely smarting as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I gotcha,” his muscular biceps flex as he quickly walks a few feet from the door and deposits on you on top of the, thankfully barren, teacher’s desk pushed haphazardly into the corner. 

“Billy,” you sigh, the sound being practically pushed from your lungs as he presses himself back between your thighs, cheer skirt rumbled around your waist as he all but folds you in half – your hands cling to his shirt desperately, one leg wrapped securely around his hip as the other ends up slung nearly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, princess?” He taunts with a wolfish grin, smirking at the way the muscles of your thigh twitch as his fingers move toward your pussy, hardly hidden beneath your boyshorts. You all but levitate off the desk as two of his fingers swipe over your slit, the apples of your cheeks flushing when he chuckles triumphantly, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide how wet you are. “Finally gonna give me what I want?”

You can feel your ponytail bobbing wildly at the crown of your head when you nod, a whiny moan blooming from your lips when he moves his fingers in tight circles against your clit, the flimsy material of your underwear quickly dampening against his touch. 

“Yeah, yeah, Billy,” your hands tremble as you pull at his t-shirt, desperate for what you’ve been wanting for so long, “C’mon, please!”

“Easy, tiger,” he laughs, tongue running over his bottom lip as he easily tugs his shirt over his head, your own hands scrambling to push down your boyshorts. Taking mercy on you yet again, he helps you, eagerly tugging the white cotton down your legs. He damn near tears them in two as he pushes your underwear over one sneaker, letting them dangle from your ankle. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, crowding against you again as you lean back on the desk, propped up on your elbows. You stare up at him, lips parted, as he all but folds you in half, warm hands pressing against the backs of your thighs, “Fucking leaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Oh!” You hiss, trying your hardest to keep your voice down, head thudding back against the desk as Billy quickly tugs his shorts down, just enough to get his cock out, and teasingly runs it through your folds, “Billy, oh my God, just do it!” You all but beg, teeth biting into your bottom lip at the wet sounds of him moving against you, deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room. 

Were you anywhere else, Billy would have absolutely no qualms about teasing you to within an inch of your life – payback for playing cat and mouse with him for almost three months straight. Lucky for you, he’s just as nervous at the thought of getting caught with his pants down as you are, shuddering to think what Neil would do if he got expelled over this. 

With a barely contained growl, he pushes into you, his cock sliding easily to the hilt with how wet you are. Your back arches off the desk as he slides home, stretching you beautifully as he fills you completely.

“Oh – oh my God,” you breathe as he stills, giving you a few seconds to adjust. Your hands scramble over the smooth top of the desk before you grab onto his wrists as his hands hook behind your knees. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans – the way he grumbles your name makes your walls clench around his length, punching another grunt from his chest as he starts shallowly thrusting against you, grinding his hips against yours. 

The two of you dissolve into a flurry of breathy mewls and sighs, each of you desperately trying to keep quiet as the muffled sounds of skin against skin and the dull creaking of the desk fill the room. Your eyelids flutter as you watch Billy above you, golden curls bouncing with each of his thrusts as a light sheen of sweat covers his tanned chest. 

Grunting lowly, he presses harder against the backs of your thighs, practically pressing your kneecaps against the desk below you, blue eyes sparkling as you easily follow his movements. With the small change in angles, the head of his cock thrusts perfectly against that sensitive spot within you, and he grins triumphantly as you tremble beneath him. 

“That the spot, princess?” He questions, smirking when you nod your head with a little broken squeak, “Fuck, I can’t wait to get you in a bed – bet you can bend in all kinds of pretty ways, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, Billy,” you agree, willing to agree to just about anything as long as he keeps moving. You can hardly contain the moans spilling from your lips as he works you higher and higher, the adrenaline from the possibility of getting caught as well as the rush of finally having him making you rush toward your end faster than you normally would. 

Breathing heavily as your pussy clenches at his cock, he lets go of one of your thighs and shoves your shirt up, unceremoniously taking your bra with it. You bite at the back of one hand as he teases at your breasts, using one hand to pinch and pull at one nipple before moving to the other as he stares down at you with half-lidded eyes, brows furrowed in concentration. 

“O-Oh, my – fuck, I’m –” You moan brokenly, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself nearing the edge, teeth biting desperately into your bottom lip as you claw at his forearm and waist. 

Cockily licking over his lips, Billy leans forward as he grinds against you, his hips putting pressure on your clit as he covers your mouth with one hand, propping himself up against the desk with an elbow as his other still grasps at the back of your knee. 

You squeeze him tightly as the tail end of his happy trail rubs deliciously over you, giving you just enough stimulation to throw you over the edge. 

“Yeah, princess,” he encourages, grunting with nearly every thrust into you as he feels you clenching around him, pushing him further and further toward his own edge as he clenches his jaw, determined to hang on as long as possible. 

After only a few more thrusts, he quickly pulls out with a small groan. “Fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he strokes his cock, painting your lower belly with stripes of his release.

Both of you still for a moment, breathing heavily as you each come down. Half expecting Billy to simply get dressed again and leave, you’re surprised when he softly kisses you, more relaxed this time, as his warm breath fans over your cheek. Dazedly, you kiss him back, your lips moving together unhurriedly as you card your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at the nape of his neck. 

After a moment, you part and your lips quirk up into a shy smile as he moves back half a step, giving you enough room to sit up. 

“Oh, uh,” you breathe, looking down when you feel his cum cooling against your skin. Glancing around the room, you pout a little when you don’t see any tissues or paper towels, “There’s paper towels in the locker room?” You offer, looking over at Billy, watching as he quickly tugs his shorts back into place. 

“I got it,” he says with a small smirk and before you have time to question what he means, he quickly tugs your underwear off your ankle and uses them to wipe at your skin, grinning meanly when you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Jackass!” You exclaim, laughing softly despite yourself, “That’s the only pair I have with me!”

“Nothing wrong with going commando, sweetness,” he says with a wink, chuckling when you wrinkle your nose at the thought while you pull your bra and shirt back into place, “Come back to my place and I’ll was ‘em for you, my parents don’t get back until late, anyway.” 

“You just want a round two,” you laugh, hopping off the desk and straightening out your skirt the best you can before running your hands over your hair, trying to smooth out your ponytail. 

“Told you I was gonna fold you up all pretty,” Billy smirks, crowding against you yet again once he tugs his shirt back on and lightly grasping at your jaw, “Something tells me you won’t have a problem with that either.”

“That’s presumptuous, don’t you think?” 

“Sure, yeah, I dunno what that means, princess,” he says, grinning when you laugh, your hands pressed against his chest as he quickly tucks your boyshorts into the waistband of his shorts, “Just come back to my place, hm?”

“What about basketball practice? Jason hates when people ditch.”

“You really think I give a shit about what Carver wants?” Billy laughs, taking one of your hands in his as he makes his way toward the door.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally agree, rolling your eyes playfully as you let him pull you out into the hall.

“And come with me to the Halloween party?”

“You have quite a list of demands, Hargrove.”

“Hey,” he says with a little shrug, glancing at you as you walk side by side toward the locker rooms, “That’s what you get for teasing me.”

You merely giggle as the two of you round a corner, nearly freezing and nervously glancing over at Billy when you come across Steve, chest heaving as he leans over a water fountain. 

Standing straight, he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand, narrowing his eyes at Billy, watching as he quickly scoops up his duffle bag from where he’d tossed it down earlier in the hallway. “Dude, why’re you leaving? You’re almost, like, half an hour late for practice.”

“Yeah, well, tell Carver something came up,” the blond boy huffs dismissively before taking your hand once more. You shoot a bashful smile at Steve, blushing as you and Billy walk toward the doors out to the parking lot. 

Behind you, Steve takes a minute to connect the dots, brows furrowing as he plants his hands on his hips. After a second, his eyes widen and he shakes his head. 

“Come on, at school?” He calls down the hallway, shaking his head as you and Billy laugh, “Fucking animals, man.”

gen tags: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild @cruelworldlana @mheraxes @eternallyvenus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[consciouscarrot]

day 31 - foursome [r.lupin, s.black, j.potter]

poly!marauders x fem!reader

content warnings; fucking filth, barty slander (sorry), bit cringe on the werewolf mentions (sorry again), very unrealistic smut, public vaginal fingering (r receiving), male oral (remus and sirius receiving), bondage with a belt (r receiving), female oral (r receiving), p in v sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, squirting, anal fingering (sirius receiving), lots of pet names (as usual), implied subspace, one mention of drool/dribble, a bit of sirius x remus focused :))

notes; last fic for my first (and hopefully not last) kinktober. only remus for a while, then the boys join later- not much james in this one i’m afraid. longest fic to date by a landslide eek MDNI

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

professor binns was rabbiting on about something you really didn’t care to listen to, more than happy to just copy remus’ notes later on.

you were sat together at the back of the classroom, trying not to doze off at the monotone voice echoing throughout the room. remus’ hand sat steady on your thigh, where it had been practically glued for the past couple days, the full moon rapidly approaching.

he was always more possessive around this time, wanting no one but the boys to as much as look at you, and even then they were on thin ice. it almost always ended up with you spread eagle beneath him, his thick cock pounding into you, impossibly high stamina causing you to be practically immobile by the time he’s satiated.

clenching your thighs together, you snapped out of your lustful daydreams, looking around to make sure no one noticed, when you spotted barty crouch jr staring at you, insufferable smirk on his face as he looked you up and down, eyes very obviously lingering on your tits.

you shifted, trying to turn away from barty’s leering when you felt remus’ scarred hand slide further up your thigh, edging awfully close to the hem of your skirt, his fingers tightening against your flesh in a near bruising grip.

looking at up at him, you saw his gaze locked on barty, eyes narrowed and barely containing the possessive growl you knew his wolf wanted to let out.

“remmy?” you inhaled sharply when his fingers slipped underneath your skirt, teasing along the gusset of your cotton underwear in slow, barely there touches, just enough to get slick to pool out of your cunt, desire creeping up your spine, leaving you near breathless with want, despite the perverted audience.

you bit your lip, trying to keep your expression neutral as you whimpered his name again quietly, looking over to find barty still staring, though his jaw had dropped slightly, focus much lower than it had been before.

“can you keep quiet for me, angel? need to teach junior a lesson,” he said, not bothering to spare you a glance as he pulled your now damp underwear to the side, smirking at the little gasp you let out when the cold air hit your bare cunt.

“mine,” he growled quietly, only loud enough for you to hear, never taking his eyes off barty for a second. you were grateful that remus’ hand covered you, not that he would ever let anyone but the boys see your body.

his fingers slid along your slit, collecting the slippery slick as he pulled your leg atop of his. his digits finally entered your heat, and you grasped desperately at his wrist with both hands, simultaneously wanting him to stop and keep going as he pumped in and out of you, tendons flexing beneath your fingertips.

struggling to maintain your composure, you buried your face into remus’ arm, praying that he’d be merciful and cast a silencing spell. blood pooled into your mouth as your teeth broke through your lip, thin skin splitting painfully as your hips bucked into his touch, high building quicker than usual.

“i want you to look at junior when you cum, if you look away even for a moment, i won’t let you cum. do you understand?” he was finally looking at you when you peeled your face from his arm, all teary eyes and flushed as you nodded, mumbling a quiet ‘i understand’ when he gave you a look.

you met barty’s wide eyes, not failing to notice how the front of his trousers has tented up, body tense as he watched your face crumple as you came, head tipping forward slightly at the sporadic pulsing of your cunt.

you collapsed back into remus’ side as you calmed down, eyes fluttering shut so you were unable to see how after remus pulled his cum coated fingers out of your underwear, he licked them clean, skin glistening with slick and saliva.

you nearly jumped when everyone stood up, panicking that they’d all caught on to the depraved act you’d just committed, only relaxing when remus rubbed your arm, telling you that class was over.

quickly fixing your underwear, he helped you up, your legs trembling from the effort so soon after cumming. you could only stand there helplessly as he packed away your stuff, throwing both your bags over his shoulder as you watched him in a daze.

you could barely think as remus half held you up as you started the walk back to the boy’s dorm, you clinging to his shirt as you tried your best to hurry after him.

you squealed when he shoved the two of you into an alcove, casting a wandless silencing spell before pressing you against the cold, brick wall and kissing you. you moaned into it, his saliva soothing your bloodied lip as he devoured you, tongue sliding against yours.

already feeling needy again, you wiggled against him, willing him to understand what you wanted, melting as his lips trailed over your neck, sucking plum bruises into the flesh, his sharp teeth nipping at the tender skin.

“oh- remmy, please,”

“shh, i know,” he said as he pulled away, undoing his belt, “need to feel your mouth on me, baby.”

you nodded mindlessly, his fingers pressing down on your shoulders until you dropped to your knees, placing your hands on your thighs obediently as you waited for his further instruction, watching with eager eyes as he pulled out his throbbing cock, tip red with arousal, a small glob of pre dribbling down his slit.

he fisted at your hair, clasping it into a makeshift ponytail before using it to guide you closer, hips jumping in suspense. leaning forward, your tongue swirled around his tip, the salty taste of his pre exploding on your tongue, making you whimper. he groaned low at the vibrations, muttering sweet yet filthy praises as his head tilted back against the stone.

dark eyes bored into yours as you took him down your throat, never looking away from eachother, even as you choked around him and tears ran down your face, cooling your heated cheeks.

“oh fuck- gonna come in that pretty mouth of yours- so close- so- oh,” his hips stilled, cum spilling onto your tongue with a drawn out moan, fingers digging into your scalp.

he nearly came again when he opened his eyes, the sight of you sat so prettily before him, tongue sticking out to show him the way his pearly cum coated the pink muscle, smiling softly with dilated pupils and oh so eager to please him.

“shit- good girl, you can swallow now,”

you nearly beamed at that, swallowing happily as he pulled you up into his arms, pressed your bodies together to kiss you again, the taste of himself on your tongue making his dick twitch as he put it away.

~

you barely made it back to the dorm, having to stop every so often to exchange sloppy kisses and dry hump eachother, just to ease the tension until the need to feel each other’s bodies was satiated for a moment.

he opened the door for you, finding the room empty, and you realised that james and sirius were most likely going to be late back as they’d be coming from quidditch practice.

you turned to remus, finding him watching you, back leant against the door.

“strip and get on the bed,” he said, leaving you no room for arguments as he rolled up his shirt sleeves.

you walked over to his bed, ripping off items of clothing as you move, before crawling up to kneel again, waiting patiently for him.

he spent a few minutes just watching you, observing your every tic, the way you breathed heavily, mouth slightly parted and cheeks rosy, the way your breath hitched when he began to walk over to you, loosening his tie and undoing his belt again, wrapping it around his rough palm.

his free hand cupped your face, thumb gliding over your glossy lips as he smiled at you, pressing the digit into your mouth, humming at the way you suckled at it, lids fluttering in pure bliss.

"what's your safe word, sweetheart?" he pulled his thumb out with a wet pop, smearing your spit back over your lips as you mumbled against him.

"yellow for slow, red for stop,"

"good girl, now lie back for me,"

once you were flat against the bed, he flipped you over, pulling your hands behind your back to tie your wrists together with his belt, tight enough to make it hurt just enough for your mind to go fully spacey.

satisfied with the bonds, he gripped your hips, tugging them up so that you were on display for him, cunt exposed and face pressed into the sheets, facing the closed door.

slick had poured down your thighs, smearing across your skin from all the dry humping and walking. he kneeled down on the bed before gently blowing air onto your puffy cunt, chuckling when you pushed back on the feeling, desperate for any kind of stimulation.

giving you no warning, he shoved his face into the mess between your thighs, eating you out from behind. you cried out, unable but needing to grip at his hair and pull him into you. he lapped at your arousal before drawing your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly at the sensitive nub, holding you down as you writhed and kneading at whatever skin he could reach.

you were a mess of constant whimpers, your high building up quicker than you could cope with. but, just as you were about to fall apart, he pulled away, your orgasm falling just right outside your reach.

“no, no please-, i was good! no-,”

remus watching your cunt clench around nothing, even more slick dribbling out, although now it had turned thicker and opaque, just how he liked it.

“you’re creaming f’me already, baby? i don’t even have to try and your cunts all messy,”

tears streamed down your face and you begged him to make you cum, begged him to make you feel good, making desperate promises to do anything he wanted, anything at all.

“shh, it’s okay, need to feel you cumming round my cock, ‘kay?”

you nodded, just happy that you were getting what you wanted.

he pulled his cock out again, still damp with your saliva as he rubbed his tip against your puffy cunt before pushing in. you always took him so well, tight walls hugging him like a glove, pulsing to accommodate his length, cunt almost as eager to please as you were.

you mewled as he started fucking you, one of his feet up by your head for leverage, pounding into your sloppy hole. you were so close already, only needing a few thrusts to tip over the edge, your thighs trembling and fingers trying to grasp at anything behind you.

you screamed when he didn’t stop, gushing around his cock as you’re immediately sent into another orgasm, his fingers swirling on your oversensitive pearl. you tried to squirm away, mouth open in a silent scream as you panicked at the overstimulation.

he hushed you, groaning at the way you clenched down on him before he pressed his weight onto you, cementing you to the mattress and biting into your shoulder to keep you grounded.

you were both getting close again, eyes rolling back, his fingers slid up your back to the base of your scalp, gripping at your hair, pain and pleasure swirling together as you came again, squirting so forcefully that his cock was forced out of you.

“this pretty cunt is mine,” he growled, pushing back in just in time to coat your walls in his cum, walls fluttering around him at the noises that came from remus’ mouth.

you sighed, beginning to relax now that you thought you were getting a break, thinking he was going to stop and pull out any second.

you started sobbing when reality hit you, his hips never slowing. you were so overwhelmed and feeling almost too good, his tip hitting your g spot perfectly on every thrust, clouding your head in a fog so thick that you wouldn’t be able to get out of it on your own, completely gone under his touch.

“i know, i know, bunny. doing so well, that’s it, sweet thing,”

you’re a complete mess beneath him, shaking violently as you babbled, unable to form proper words or sentences, nipples brushing harshly against the sheets.

you barely noticed the door opening, both james and sirius entering wide eyed to the display of you being pounded into the mattress, looking at them all glassy-eyed with an empty head.

“are you two just going to stand there like muppets or are you going to join us?” remus quipped, moaning loudly when you squirted again.

snapping out their daze, sirius quickly locked the door behind him before they scrambled over, cocks already chubbing up.

james went over to remus, rubbing at your back as he intently watched the strings of slick joining your skin as the latter thrust his hips into you, the sounds of skin slapping and lewd, wet squelches filling the room.

sirius however, went straight over to your head, kneeling down next to you with concern wrenching his features, carbon black eyes piercing into your teary ones.

“you okay, lovebug? doing so good for rem,” he said quietly, more than well aware of how remus could get at this time. he stroked your sweat-damp hair out of your flushed face, ignoring the way his cock was throbbing in his trousers at your uncontrolled noises, completely pliant and docile.

unable to speak, remus luckily took mercy and answered for you, “she’s juusst fine, aren’t ya, sweet thing?”

you nodded into the sheets, james testing the waters a he ran his hands strayed from your back, squeezing at whatever flesh remus allowed him to.

sirius planted kisses over your face, murmuring praises to you sweetly. he loved these moments with you, getting to be the one to comfort you whilst you were flying high on pleasure. he kept talking you through it as remus came again, soothing you when you whimpered at remus pulling out to let james have a go, leaving nothing to stop the mixture of his and your cum to dribble out of you, trickling down your sore thighs.

remus undid his belt from around your wrists, rubbing at the reddened skin as he encourage james to take his place, watching as the latter pushed into your heat, whining at the warmth of you.

“easy now, she’s tired,”

“she feels so good,” james grabbed your ass, fingertips digging into the soft skin as he started thrusting into you, starting out slow and controlled before he gave up trying to hold back, fucking you so hard you could barely breathe.

you just about managed to bring your aching arms up, reaching for sirius, he brought his hands to meet yours, thinking that’s what you wanted, only to lurch over at the way you palmed over his trousers, fingers fiddling with his zip.

“please?” you whimpered, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“okay, okay fuck- think you can take me in your mouth, darling? yeah? okay,”

sirius bit back a groan at the way you were already salivating at the sight of his cock, drool slipping out the corners of your mouth as your tongue lulled out, looking up at him as you waited for him.

you let out the prettiest little noises around his cock, sending vibrations through him making him shudder as remus came up behind him, guiding him to lean back and let him undress him.

you hummed in satisfaction, watching remus tease at sirius’ nipples and suck at his neck whilst both their eyes were on you, muttering filthy things as james continued to fuck you, all desperate thrusts of hips and sweet moans.

“good girl, taking siri so well,”

“yeah, she’s so good- more please- oh,”

sirius’ balls slapped against your wet chin, his hips bucking into your mouth when you increased the suction, tongue swirling at the underside of his cock, gagging slightly at the intrusion.

james pulled your torso up a little, tugging you up so that sirius could fuck your mouth easier, strong arms working to hold you up, “there you go, feeling good, baby?”

you nodded the best you could with a cock between your lips, eyes rolling to the back of your head with the noises that echoed around the room.

sirius’ cock twitched in your mouth when remus’ hands started wandering, watching the way he cleaned up you spit coated chin with his fingers, before sliding his hand down to sirius’ ass, gently stroking over his rim, causing him to buck into your mouth harshly.

“fuck- rem i can’t- cant take both,”

“yes, you can pads, let us make you feel good, hm?”

sirius had no chance to object before remus was pushing a finger inside, prying open his tight hole and pressing against his sweet spot, making sirius toss his head back against remus’ shoulder.

sirius’ hips bucked wildly into you, moaning at the way you spluttered around him, spit drooling onto his hard cock. he didn’t last long before cumming straight down your throat, the dual sensations of your mouth on him and remus’ fingers inside too much at once.

whimpering as you continued to suckle on his sensitive head, his legs gave out, the only thing holding him up being remus’ free arm wrapped around his waist. the lycanthrope’s fingers slowed to a stop as he gently pulled the boy’s cock out of your mouth, before guiding him to lay down next to you.

you brought a shaky hand up to sirius’ beside you, clutching at him for dear life as james pushed you head back into the linen sheets, hips speeding up more than you thought possible.

the warmth deep inside your belly was spreading, making your toes curl, unable to do anything but cry and take it, screaming in pleasure.

your thighs were burning from exertion, jaw aching and cunt oversensitive, but you didn’t care, you weren’t even capable of caring about anything other than cumming at that moment, the feel of james’ tip hitting your g-spot rendering you cock drunk.

“you’re so tight, lovie. need to feel you cum, m’so close- oh,”

remus knelt down beside you, taking sirius’ place as he murmured to you, “being so good f’me, darling. just one more and you’re mine again. cum on jamie’s cock for me and i’ll spend the next 24 hours worshipping your body.”

you instantly fell apart, nails digging into sirius’ skin as your eyes rolled back, body shaking so hard that james was half worried he’d broken you, before he too came, flooding your insides with his seed, your pulsing cunt milking him for all that he’s worth.

you both collapsed, lying in a pool of your own bodily fluids, a mixture of everyone’s cum and sweat, spit and tears. you couldn’t find it within yourself to care, still mewling even though no one was touching you anymore, aftershocks nearly enough to make you cum again.

using what little strength you had left, you managed to peel open your eyes, finding remus’ gaze still locked on you, lips pulled into a smug smirk as he mouthed to you, “mine.”

he planted a long kiss to your sweaty forehead, before he allowed sirius to pull you into him, your tits pressed against his chest as you buried your face into his neck, dark curls tickling your nose, his arms enveloping you.

you felt remus stroke at your hair, still knelt on the floor, as james joined the cuddle, curling up behind you with a worn out sigh, “what triggered that then?”

you whined into sirius at the question, worrying that it would set remus off again, the former’s large hands rubbing soothingly at your back.

“junior was leering at her,” he growled, tension filling the air as his fist subconsciously gripped at your hair, making you go rigid, “he wanted to touch her.”

“we can deal with it tomorrow,”

“yeah moony, let’s just look after our girl for now,”

remus hummed, seemingly content with that, fist relaxing as he pressed a few apologetic kisses over your head, waiting until you hummed in acknowledgment to speak, voice low with thick desire.

“it’s my turn again, sweet girl,”

despite being so worn out, you couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched at that, warm cum oozing out with a sleepy moan.

you were the lamb to his wolf, helpless prey only there to entertain him, to please him; and he would never let you go.

[clarkpip22]

𖥻.•𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ✴︎.

***********************************************

A/N- this is my first time writing smut so sorry if this isn't good but I hope you'll enjoy<3

***********************************************

↪loves eating you out

- she will devour your pussy like it is a full-course meal.

- makes you squirt all over her face

- and she won't stop unless you tell her to

- "You taste so good, mama~"

- Emily's eyes always look so heavy when she's eating you out, sometimes she closes her eyes while moaning into them. Enjoying every inch of your cunt

↪strap game is insane!

- treats your pussy like it's a toy when she's fucking you

- she may talk to you nicely but there is nothing nice about the way she pounds you into the bed

- sometimes she gets carried away because she is so focused on making you feel good

↪ Speaking of talking to you nice. THE PRAIS! THE DIRTY TALK!

- her mouth is dirty <3

- anytime you are doing good for her, she showers you with compliments.

- calls you her good girl <3

- some of her favorite phrases♥︎

- "Yes baby, you're doing so well for me"

- "Please make that pretty cunt squirt for me baby"

- "Ride me mama~"

- "I love your pussy so much"

- even outside of the bedroom she's praising you

- there have been times were she will whisper dirty things to you out in public

- "I can't wait to take you home and shove my face between your legs"

↪Emily struggles to keep her hands to herself

- she is in love with you and her favorite way to show you is through touch but it always leads to more than just innocent touches

- Emily's hands 🤝 your thighs

- she also loves grabbing your neck

- Em will hold you by the neck when she wants you to look at her

↪loves ass

- she spanks you a lot for fun

- Anytime she walks past you or you bend down, all you feel is a big, strong, muscular hand land on your ass

- "Ow Emily! That hurts!"

- "Hush baby, I didn't hit you that hard"

↪Emily is into punishments

- if you are giving her attitude or act like a brat, she will embarrass you

- her favorite way to punish you is by making act like cat or dog

- she'll strip you down and put a dog or cat buttplug in you and makes you crawl on all four

- Emily has you crawl up on her lap and sit while she plays with your cunt

- fingers the life out of you

- "Don't try to run away from me baby, you wanted to act like a brat so imma treating you like a brat."

- spanks you hard if you complain

- if you take your punishment well, Emily will eat you out all night long

- if you don't then she'll pound your cunt for hours, making you cum over and over again until you apologize like a good girl<3

↪ And finally... the aftercare

- she makes sure you are nice and cleaned up

- kisses you on the cheek telling you how good you are and how proud she is of you

- Emily is usually very soft after sex, stroking your body and cuddling on

- feeds you snacks and makes sure you are well hydrated.

- "You did so well for me baby, I love you~"

- "I love you too, em"

You guys are so cute 😩<3

[spookyrea]

You Can Wrap Me 'Round Your Finger...

You’re having a crisis trying to pick the perfect moment to tell Loki you love him. Loki is having a crisis, too, except his is decidedly way more embarrassing. Also, your pillows keep disappearing.

(aka - frost giant biology is weird and Loki has to suffer the consequences.)

a companion to Love at First Sight (or should I walk by again?) - can be read on its own!

Chapter 1 / 2 -- read it on AO3 here

Word count: ~5k

Warnings: fem reader; Loki is CLINGY

You could just make out the rosy hue of a late-season snowfall from your vantage point behind the cockpit; it blanketed the city, turning the streets a pale orange where streetlamp light reflected off of a crisp, white coat. For a city that never slept it was strangely quiet; at just past three o’clock in the morning, not even the snow plows were out yet.

Your team was returning from a four day long deployment to San Francisco – a retrieval mission where you were tasked with tracking down and seizing off-world cargo. It had gone over surprisingly well - zero casualties, a handful of actual combat incidents, and a scant few million dollars worth of petty property damage. It did require a proper cargo plane, though, which meant that the team had to rely on a local airplane hangar to get back home. 

(Despite his truly unparalleled complaining, Tony’s choice to put the Avengers tower in the centre of a busy New York metropolitan block meant that there were certain restrictions - namely, the laws of physics - that limited the size of plane they could have on-site).

An unfortunate consequence of it all was that you were freezing. You made a face and folded your arms over your chest; you were dressed for a late February chill, in tac-pants and a knit sweater, not a snowstorm. As romantic as the snow looked, the cold was settling over you like an ache and, coupled with the early-hour and a tender bruise on your left side, your mood was only souring. You cast your eyes to the ceiling and prayed that a car was already waiting for you on the tarmac.

The quin-jet touched down a little roughly; you felt Wanda’s wince without looking at her, but Tony immediately came to her defense. “No, that was because of the snow. Poor visibility. Out of your control. Definitely. I’m passing you with flying colours - hey, get it?”

The loading ramp slid open with a pop and a hiss; your ears felt funny now that you were on solid ground, like they were full of cotton. Natasha tugged on her earlobes, then reached over and tugged on Steve’s too to be a pest. He swatted her away with a scowl. 

Moments later, attendants began to climb the loading ramp in groups of two. You scowled. They were at least dressed for the weather.

You pulled your hands from between your thighs, trying to focus on anything other than the way your core muscles were tensed against the chill, and thanked whatever powers-that-be that you could finally go home. You were half way through unbuckling your seatbelt when an automated voice warned you from overhead not to leave your seats.

“Sorry, everyone,” Tony called. “Safety or whatever. All cargo has to be removed before we can get up. Just a few minutes. You’ll be warm and in bed in no time.”

You sank low in your seat, arms crossed, and focused very hard on glaring a hole in the quid-jet floor. Who knows -- maybe you could spontaneously develop heat-vision. It would look good on your resume.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to go collect you myself.”

Crossing the jet in long strides, tall enough to peer over most attendants' heads, was Loki. Your boyfriend.  

Dressed in civilian clothing, Loki was something resplendent. His pale skin, warmed by the cool twilight haze outside, was a stark relief against his mop of riotous dark curls, and his green eyes caught the light in a mysterious way. A pair of neatly-polished shoes rattled the grated floor as he approached, weaving in between attendants, until he came to a stop at your side. With a wave of his hand, Loki manifested a fine wool cloak to drape over your shoulders. His long fingers drew the golden hook at the collar through its eye and smoothed it flat against your sternum.

“Can’t have you freezing to death,” he murmured.

You thumbed the stitching along the hem of the cloak; the thread was such a dark green that it almost blended in with the black fabric. “I would have been fine.”

“Well, if you’re too warm, I can certainly help cool you down.” Loki slid into the seat next to you and blew an icy breath across your neck, making you shriek. The grin he shot you was lecherous - truly vile , you mumbled - and sent a hot thrill from your nape to the pit of your belly.

“You are evil.”

“You should have me locked up.”

You pulled the collar of his cloak up to your face, pressing the velvety edge to your mouth. “I’m putting in a request immediately.”

Loki offered you his wrists, that sticky grin growing even wider. “Why wait?”

A flash of green seidr crackled suggestively, implying where a set of handcuffs might bind him. Your eyes snapped to the whirlwind of snow outside, cheeks hot. 

Tony gagged obnoxiously from the pilot’s seat. The comms system crackled to life overhead. “Get a room, you two.”

Loki scoffed, mock affront dripping from his lazy posture, and poured himself over your shoulders, even though the armrest was in the way and was without a doubt digging into his side. He plucked your hand from your lap, lacing his fingers through yours and drawing it up to his mouth. His lips idly traced the edge of his signet ring on your thumb while you watched the cargo roll by, box by painstaking box. 

You had only been dating for a few months, having finally confessed your mutual attraction after a tumultuous, alcohol-fueled evening together. It turned out that the entire time that you had been harbouring a monumental crush on Loki, he’d been just as gone on you - a fact you hadn’t known, since his idea of showing interest was to give you shiny rocks and hand feed you foods, and yours was whatever Tinder had going on.

Once the two of you had gotten over your - admittedly pretty embarrassing - communication barrier, you fell into a nice routine. You found that you were more confident without the weight of an unrequited crush looming over you, and Loki was eons more likely to finish his paperwork as long as you were there to play footsie with him under the table and let him ramble every fifteen minutes. He still flirted with everything that moved, but you recognized the nuances of his affection now. He never touched anyone, but he hung off of you like a limpet; he might smile and schmooze at parties, all lecherous grins and innuendo, but his eyes always sought your approval out after every punchline; and he only ever called you pet.

(And on one occasion, master. But that was a different story.)

Once the attendants had unloaded the last crate into a van, Tony gave everyone the OK to exit the plane without worrying about being trampled. Steve was the first out, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Natasha, Bruce and Tony were quick to follow, all stumbling into the first car they saw, while Wanda stayed and fiddled with a few switches from the co-pilot’s seat. Under Natasha’s suggestion, she was trying to get a proper license to fly - mostly for paperwork-related reasons, because the insurance company charged a fortune every time an Avenger ‘borrowed’ a vehicle without permission.

Before you could protest, Loki scooped up the duffle bag at your feet and started down the loading ramp into the storm, leaving you and Wanda as the last on the plane. You rapped your knuckles against the ceiling and sent her a questioning look. Decked out in her oversized headset and a fuzzy quarter-zip sweater Tony had commissioned for the team, she looked right at home behind the quinjet control panel. She shot you a thumbs up, gesturing for you to go on ahead. You blew her a quick kiss and then hurried after Loki, fighting to keep the cloak shut against the blustering wind. 

Wet snow crept under your pant legs, clinging unpleasantly to the strip of skin left exposed by your socks. Loki had already packed your belongings away in the farthest van and was waiting by the back door, held open for you. You jogged - as best you could given the weather - the last couple of feet and slid into the backseat.

Loki hauled himself through the other door a moment later. The driver - a bored looking man with a dark beard and greying temples - pushed the stick shift into gear and turned off the runway. 

You shivered, brushing clumps of snow off your ankles. Dark stains were climbing up your shins where the it bled through. Loki leaned across the seat to help you, running a shimmering hand over your shoulders to dry you off. 

Mostly satisfied, you sank back and watched the city roll by, the empty streets cast in shades of neon as the snow reflected billboards and store displays. It was a beautiful sight, the kind of morning you would normally want to commit to memory for the postcard-ness of it all – except you were exhausted and a little cranky, so you turned your eyes to stare at your boyfriend instead. 

(You made it a full three minutes without looking at him - a new personal record.)

You admired him the way an owner might creep up on a beloved pet in a sunbeam; you didn’t want him to know you were looking, in case he spooked and moved, so you kept your cheek turned and watched from the corner of your eye. He was deep in thought, luckily, which gave you some leeway to admire his profile. There was something decidedly boyish about him when he was relaxed, a softness you so rarely got to see; it made you want to kiss every inch of him just for the sake of kissing.

He drew an aimless pattern with his thumb across your upper thigh. His pinky finger was stretched comically far from the rest of his fingers, as if willing your hand to reach out and intertwine but too stubborn to ask. For a silly, love-sick moment you were overwhelmed by the need to tell him you loved him - and then your brain caught up with your heart and bludgeoned it into submission.

The knowledge that you were in love with him and the nebulous un-knowledge of how he felt about you was starting to wear on your nerves. You understood logically that he liked you - enough to court you, under different circumstances - but what you felt when you looked at him was a hurricane of emotions, a self-sustaining cycle of hot air up and cold air down, whipping the sea so hard that it formed storm clouds unbidden by the laws of nature. You knew that he felt things differently, had lived a dozen of your lifetimes no doubt filled with pretty things. Would this change your relationship? Would you breaking that last barrier make yourself less desirable somehow?

You wanted to tell him. To share the inherent joy of being in love.

It just scared you to death, was all. No big deal.

His mouth twitched; his eyes caught yours in the window’s reflection as the car entered the dark parking garage. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked. “Just tired. Sorry.”

The car dropped you off in the underground parking of the Avengers’ tower. Yours was the last of the convoy, so you and Loki slipped out of the car into an empty lot where only a few strangler attendants were unloading and taking inventory. You held one corner of the cloak in your hand, worried it would drag through the slush puddles tracked in by the cars. Loki’s hand came to rest on the small of your back while he hoisted your bag over his shoulder.

“After you, pet.”

You led him to the elevators, where you leaned against the railing and let your eyes slip shut. Loki selected a floor and then joined you, draping one arm around your shoulders to draw you into his chest.

You leaned your cheek against him. Now that you were home, the full weight of your exhaustion was bearing down on you. The pattern of knots Loki was drawing across the back of your neck wasn’t helping. You were suddenly grateful for the support of Loki’s body under you, solid and steady; you slid your hands under his jacket to hug him… then paused.

Something was… off.

You pulled back and gave him a once-over. Nothing outwardly betrayed him as different. He wore a pair of simple, straight-leg tac-pants and a white t-shirt under a brown vintage-style bomber he’d no doubt swiped from Bucky or Steve; the cut of each item flattered his narrow build exceedingly, a fact you knew he was aware of by the way he kept glancing at you during your drive home. His hair was wild and unstyled in a hopelessly endearing way - a look he’d taken to wearing often after you made a passing comment about liking it that way.

The jacket though… 

He filled it out well. Too well.

“You’re bigger,” you blurted out.

Loki raised one eyebrow in a perfect, mocking arch. “Excuse me?”

“You’re,” you waved your hand up and down his body, “bigger. Like, broader. Have you been working out more?”

Loki glanced down at his chest. “No?”

You pushed the jacket off his shoulders to get a better look at him. The white cotton of his t-shirt puckered across his chest, wrinkling under the strain of an extra inch or so of muscle, and the side seams were pulled so taut that you could see the thread. You poked him right over his heart, admiring a new, plush firmness.

The tips of Loki’s fingers wormed under your shirt. His smile took on a wicked edge as he soaked in the sight of you in front of him. When you shot him a look, he screwed his face up into something resembling innocence. “If you’re going to ogle me like a piece of meat, I think it’s only fair that I get to admire you, too.”

You hummed and slipped his jacket back into place, smoothing your palms down his chest to rest just above his waistband. Loki’s evilness washed away to something sticky sweet; he slid his hand up between your shoulder blades, his fingers splayed wide to admire the shift of your muscles under your skin. His other hand twined with yours to lift your knuckles to his mouth.

The doors slid open on his floor. With a flourish and a fleeting kiss, Loki stooped to collect your bag. His free hand trailed behind him, outstretched for you to take, but you lingered with a smile and a shake of your head.

He came to an abrupt stop under the threshold, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He wiggled his fingers, as if you were refusing because you’d missed his offer to hold your hand. “What are you doing?”

You pressed the button for your floor. “I’m going back to my room.”

“No,” Loki whined, his hand still outstretched. “Please, darling.”

You rolled your eyes and attempted to pull your bag from his hands. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Loki.”

“But you’ll miss out on my new, broader body. Your bed will seem extra empty now in comparison. You should just skip the trouble.”

“Loki, I’m tired. And all my stuff is in my apartment.”

“You can wear something of mine.” Loki, exasperated, threw your duffle down in front of the elevator door and cornered you against the railing.

“Just for the night, Loki.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth, one he didn’t return… and then seemed to regret, because only a heartbeat after you pulled away he was on you, cupping your face between both his hands and swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. You huffed out a sigh and pushed on his stomach; he managed to get two more kisses in before you finally won and put some distance between the two of you.

In a perfectly Loki-fashion, Loki sulked. He stomped out of the elevator and then turned to you, his hands firmly on his hips. “You vex me. Understand that I will be taking you out for breakfast tomorrow, no exceptions.”

You hooked a finger through your bag strap, dragging it back into the elevator. “Make it a late lunch. If you wake me before noon there will be punishments.”

Loki’s eyes twitched with the briefest hint of a smirk. His voice dropped an octave. “Promise?”

The elevator doors slid shut on his leering expression. You spent the rest of the ride valiantly trying not to fall asleep. The low hum of its engine was terribly soothing.

When the elevator opened to your floor, you weren’t surprised to find PAL - Tony’s Paperwork Assistant Lite robot, who usually helped organize and retrieve files in the office downstairs - waiting by your door. Measuring just under two feet tall, PAL could navigate the halls and elevator just fine as long as FRIDAY was willing to unlock the doors for him, but your manual lock-and-key front door was an insurmountable obstacle for him.

“How long have you been here, buddy?”

As soon as he recognized you, PAL trilled with delight. His metal chassis vibrated with the effort of waiting by the door. He rounded your feet while you dug through your pants pockets for your keys, narrating the week to you in his language of whistles and beeps, and raised his tiny paper tray, straining to try and take over the weight of your duffle bag. You huffed out a laugh, leaning ever-so-slightly to the side to set it on him but not to smother; the LED display on his face narrowed, as if he was concentrating very hard on not dropping your belongings.

As soon as you were through the door, you threw your bag by your shoe rack and toed off your sneakers, leaving them in a pile on the floor. PAL set to straightening them, sweeping them to the wall with his tray ahead like a snowplow. He tried to do the same to your bag, but his treads could only pinwheel against the weight. 

You stood in the living room for a moment and folded Loki’s cloak over the back of your couch, contemplating skipping your whole routine and going straight to bed. You settled on missing a shower but washing your face - everything else could be dealt with in the morning. You made your way to your bedroom in search of clean pyjamas, then continued to the bathroom to brush your teeth, PAL close on your heels.

You had just exited the bathroom when someone knocked on your door. You tossed your washcloth into a bin on top of your washing machine and rounded the hallway to answer it.

Loki stood on the other side, dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized AVENGERS TACTICAL UNIT t-shirt. “Please, darling.”

“You have your own bed.”

“It’s too big without you.”

“You’re even bigger now. You’ll fill it out just fine.”

Loki stepped into your personal space; he hadn’t even bothered putting on shoes, wearing only a pair of grey wool socks. His hands curled around your hips as if to steady himself. “I’m afraid of the dark?”

“Try again.”

“My room was taken over by starving wolves while you were away and I only narrowly escaped.”

You sighed. You had to admit that it felt nice to have him in your arms like this, even if you knew giving in would only encourage him to lord over more of your time. “Absolutely no funny business, Loki.”

An incandescent grin split his face in two. He swooped in to kiss your cheek, then sauntered off toward your bedroom. You locked the door, made sure PAL was settled into his charging dock for the night, and then followed after your boyfriend.

You found him curled up on the side of your bed closest to the door, facing you, and holding one of your pillows hostage. He buried his nose in the fabric, a pleased sound rumbling through his chest, and watched you approach.

You swatted at him, not even bothering to round the bed, opting to crawl over his body to reach your side. Loki unfolded, abandoning the pillow to gather you up instead; his arms circled your waist and tugged you into his chest in an awkward collision of limbs, legs tangling in the comforter. You squirmed while he maneuvered you to his liking, tucking the length of his body around you tightly and nosing at the junction of your throat and jaw.

“Loki,” you chided. “I said no funny business.”

“This is a perfectly serious matter.” Loki untangled himself from you just long enough to pull the comforter over your body before sliding in beside you. One hand returned to your neck, tipping your chin back so he could press a loud kiss to your pulse point. “You don’t have enough blankets.

You stifled a yawn and pushed him to lie on his back, draping one leg over his. “Why’s that?”

Loki continued to rearrange the sheets with a scowl. “You’ll freeze to death under this thing.”

Already, your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. You hummed. “I feel like I had more pillows than this. Maybe I’ve finally lost it.”

A small voice in the back of your mind whispered that you loved him, you loved him, you loved- 

You settled with tracing a heart over his collarbone, over and over until you fell asleep.

You woke to the sound of FRIDAY’s voice through the PA system. “Mr. Laufeyson, your presence is being requested on the thirty-first floor. Mission briefing in fifteen minutes.”

You peeled your eyes open. You could tell by the slant of the sun through the curtains that it was past noon - a small victory, really. Behind you, Loki burrowed deeper into the fabric of your t-shirt, nosing along the ladder of your spine while groaning his displeasure. He drew the comforter around you tightly, trapping you under one muscular arm with a vengeance.

His voice, still deep and rasping with the last threads of sleep, rumbled through his chest. “Good morning, dear heart.”

Lovesickness bloomed like a bruise in your chest. “Morning,” you said, instead of I love you. 

You half-turned and pecked the side of his mouth before sitting up. Loki made an affronted sound and reeled you back in by a fistful of your t-shirt, sending you sprawling halfway across his chest. He kissed you soundly, licking into your mouth with a low groan.

You blinked up at him once he pulled back. “Um. Good morning?”

“I was a perfect gentleman all night and you reward me with a peck. ” A scowl twisted his pretty face, petulance dripping off him in droves. His hands slid over your ass possessively, kneading the soft flesh with purpose. “I should have you flogged for that. Put over my knee.”

“Patience is a virtue,” you mumbled.

“Wrong faith, pet. Now- wait, where are you going?”

You paused, halfway through peeling yourself out of his arms (again), and pointed at the ceiling where FRIDAY’s voice reminded him that he was needed in thirteen minutes, Mr. Laufeyson . ”You have a debrief and I have a date with my coffee pot.”

“Not after you so callously rejected me. Come down here and make it up to me.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned in to kiss him again, slowly but deeply. Loki chased your mouth when you pulled away, frustration evident in the heavy way he sighed. Lifting you by the hips, Loki deposited you in his lap and held you there, digging his thumbs into the plush of your sides. Using the resulting sigh to his advantage, Loki cradled the back of your head and bullied your lips apart, pulling a sticky kind of want from your chest, leaving you dizzy and aching all at once.

When FRIDAY gave him a five minute warning, blinking the emergency strobe in the corner of your bedroom for good measure, Loki finally drew himself away and let you catch your breath. His head tipped back against the pillow, his throat on display in a long submissive line, and his shiny mouth parted in a groan. He mumbled something in his mother tongue, your name nestled right between lilting consonants.

“What was that?”

“Nothing important.” 

“One day you’ll teach me what you’re saying,” you grumbled. “And then I’ll know all your secrets.”

Loki lazily arched one brow, smothered behind a curtain of riotous curls. “Is that so? All of them?”

“Mhm. All of it. Every last one.”

You traced a finger down the line of his nose. If ever there was a moment to tell him you loved him, now was probably it. Here, on the laziest of saccharine mornings, while the city outside was muted by a thick wall of snow and you were both ignoring responsibility to enjoy the other. And yet– doubt wove its way through your ribs, tying knots in the hollow spaces in your chest; you rolled off of him and sat up, pulling the hem of your shirt down where it had ridden up. “FRIDAY is going to bring the appliances to life if you don’t leave soon.”

Loki poised himself on the edge of your bed and snagged your wrist when you rounded it. There was nothing to the gesture – no comment, no complaint to make. He held onto you for the simple joy of owning a second of your time.

As if one cue, PAL rolled through your bedroom door, his little paper tray aloft. He chirped in greeting, then ran head-long into one of the bed frame’s legs. 

You tamped down a lingering disappointment. Later. You would tell him later.

“Pest.” Loki swatted at PAL, who had taken to repeatedly bumping into Loki’s shins to convince him to get dressed. You gasped scoldingly when Loki shot a warning green spark in the robot’s direction; PAL, undeterred, narrowed the LED display on his face and wound up, knocking the god extra hard for good measure.

“PAL, go sit in the living room. You can pick something on Netflix for us to watch. And you,” you pointed a finger at Loki. “No threatening the robot.”

You left him to dig through your closet for something to wear; the far corner was steadily developing a growth of black, Loki-sized clothing. While you busied yourself with the coffee machine, PAL chirped at the TV and then parked himself in front of your window with his face pressed against the glass. Once your coffee was poured, you left out the gaudiest mug you owned – chipped, declaring you were Thor’s Number One Fan!, which Loki hated with a burning passion – and a spoon for when he joined you.

PAL beeped distractedly when you joined him by the window; there was a tender tilt to his little head as he gazed out, studying a pair of birds who had built their nest just below. His body shuddered, as if sighing, and his LED display blinked one long, slow blink.

It started as a tiny bundle of twigs a few weeks ago, trembling in the wind but shielded from the elements in the nook between a metal support beam and the windowsill. Then a few pieces of long grass were woven in, and a handful of fresh green branches, still flexible in their newness. They must have finished their home while you were away; two mates were deep under the spell of a snowy Sunday morning, bundled up under a layer of down and straw.

A solid pair of arms wound around your waist, drawing you backwards into an equally solid chest. Loki’s hair was damp where he’d run wet fingers through it, no doubt trying to contain the curling mess of bed head he woke up with every morning. It clung to your cheek a bit, the crown of his head pressed up to your face while he nosed at your shoulder. “Oh, hi– hello.” 

“I don’t want to go,” Loki whined. He rocked you gently from side to side, resting his cheek against yours. “We should feign illness. It’s dreadfully contagious. And then we can—” a kiss, just under your ear, “stay in bed all day. To recuperate, of course.”

“As lovely as that sounds, you really do have to go. You know how Steve gets when you’re late.”

“As soon as I can I’m coming right back up here to ravish you. That’s a promise.”

PAL cooed, excited by some small movement from the birds. One of them had woken to preen the other, sweetly running its beak through its feathers.

“Look at their little nest. How cozy,” you said quietly. “Maybe that’s where my pillows went.”

The longer Loki considered the birds, the deeper the furrow between his brows grew. He seemed to be having a revelation of some kind. “I… have to speak with my brother about something.”

“Something wrong?”

“No. Just a thought. Don’t worry.”

PAL rolled backwards into Loki’s shins with purpose. He chirped sternly, as if chiding Loki in his machine-speak, who, in return, toed PAL’s chassis very gently in warning. 

You laughed. “He’s coming, buddy.”

“Actually,” Loki muttered darkly. “On the contrary. My problem is that I’m not-”. You suspected the next words out of his mouth would have been incredibly inappropriate, had PAL not rolled pointedly over Loki’s foot.

You exited the elevator on the 31st floor a few hours later. A far cry from Tony’s party, the room was empty and mostly tucked away; chairs were stacked on tables and the bar was cleared of bottles; bright, unfiltered sunlight poured through the enormous lofted windows, allowing you an unobstructed view of the skyline and the meandering streets below. A couple of interns were having lunch on one of the couches in the corner. They must have been part of the newest wave of college recruits, because their eyes lingered in a starstruck kind of way that made you feel a little embarrassed. 

You shot them a playful salute. Both startled, turning away in a rush.

Oh well. You couldn’t look Steve in the eyes for your first week on the team– you got it.

You found Loki in the farthest conference room, sat at the end of a long, round table between Steve and Bucky. You watched their fingers walk across its surface, handing a piece of folded paper between the three of them. Steve wrote something while the speaker was turned, then slipped his hand surreptitiously under the desk. Bucky coughed; from your vantage point, you saw his and Loki’s fingers unravel the note so they could read it discreetly.

Some executive droned at the other end, gesturing to a dreadfully laid out powerpoint. Matching manilla folders were spread open in front of the agents; you had a sneaking suspicion that whatever the speaker was saying was also written down and could have been read in half the time this meeting took.

You tried to catch Loki’s eye through the window but his attention was aimless, lost in some faraway place. A thought came to you; you rearranged your belongings to clasp your hands in front of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed - albeit poorly - to the god sitting a few dozen feet from you.

You peeked through one eye to see if it had worked; through the glass, Loki shot you a private smile, so sweet that it was practically a kiss. You waved him over, jerking your head toward the conference room door.

You watched him interrupt the speaker, his lazy posture rolling forward until he was sitting straight. Steve and Bucky nodded sagely, immediately following whatever story Loki had spun. Bucky pointed exaggeratedly to his metal arm, rubbing it as if it was tense.

The door opened and Loki slipped out into the hallway to meet you. Your grin bordered on becoming painful. Both your hands were folded behind your back. “You didn’t have breakfast this morning.”

“Observant.” He plucked a loose thread from the collar of your shirt and flicked it aside before leaning in for a quick kiss. You decided, even if you couldn’t say you love him, to treat him no less lovingly; you chased him when he pulled away, pressing your lips to his jaw. His grin was dazed, like you’d turned him dumb with the simple act of wanting him. “You’re even lovelier than the last time I saw you.

“I brought you something. Pick a hand.”

Loki walked his fingers down your left arm and pulled; you let him have it, your palm open – and empty. “Oh, that’s too bad.”

“Hmm. Terrible luck.” His knuckles dragged down the length of your other arm. In that hand was a take-out container from your favourite coffee shop, defaced with a smiley-face and cute message from the barista, Yvonne. It was his usual order, nothing special, but when his eyes tipped up to meet yours, there was something uncharacteristically open about his expression, a shy edge to the tilt of his smile. He leaned in and kissed you, soft and sweet like honey. “Do you think they’ll notice if I’m gone much longer?”

“Absolutely.”

Loki groaned, tipping your hips until they were flush to his. He kissed you hard enough to bend you backwards.

“I’ll come by your apartment tonight and we can get dinner?”

His fingers stilled where they were kneading your sides. “Yes, about that. Let’s… Let’s stay at yours tonight. The wolves that chased me out last night haven’t been evicted yet.”

Loki's answer confused you – he’d spent the entire night complaining that you wouldn’t go back to his room, then insulting your blanket choices, and now he wanted to stay at yours? “Ok. That works. Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” he said quickly. “Perfectly fine. You’re so tired though. Easier to stay where your belongings are. I won’t– won’t make you commute.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Behave today.”

Another groan, this one pitched low; Loki traced your cheek with his nose. “I love it when you order me around.”

“Loki! Be-have.”

“Just one more, nymph. To tide me over.”

You sent him off with three more kisses. You were starting to wonder if you were too lenient with him; he delighted in taking advantage of your weakness to weasel more affection out of you. He returned to the conference room with his little box, opened in his lap under the table. When Bucky made to swipe a grape, Loki flicked his hand away with a glare.

When you returned to your room that evening, with Loki hot on your heels and his hands already halfway up your shirt, you were baffled to find your bed down one more pillow.

“PAL, did you do this?”

He shook his little head, LED screen blinking wide doe eyes up at you. It was the strangest thing, but when he thought you weren’t looking, you could have sworn that he shot Loki a pointed look.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Sfw and nsfw alphabet headcanon for Logan!! PLEASEE

-🌸🌸🌸

I live laugh LOVE this idea omggg

Sfw

A for aware. Logan is always, always, always aware of you, no matter where you are or who you're around, he's making sure you're comfortable and safe and that you know he's there for you if you need anything. And the moment he senses any discomfort from you, he'll get you out and to a safe space <3

B is for baby. The first time he calls you baby, you two are just chilling in the mansion and you playfully ask to see his claws. They amaze you, intrigue you, and you want the opportunity to see them up close for once without him swinging them through someone's neck. He sighs but smils and draws his claws. You grin, fingers tracing the metal. “Careful, you'll cut yourself, baby,” he says. Your eyes snap up to him and a slight blush covers his cheeks. You didn't say anything about the nickname, just kissed his cheek, and he's called you baby since.

C is for cuddles. He may seem like the big, bad wolf, but really? He's super soft when it comes to cuddling with you. He loves to lay down on the couch or the bed, watching TV or just chatting or hanging out, and he always has you close, his legs tangled with yours, his fingers tracing your soft skin be it on your shoulder or your stomach or your thigh, wherever he can touch.

D is for detailed. Logan keeps up the facade that he doesn't care about anything and that he doesn't pay attention, but he's actually hyper-focused. You have a favorite type of flower that you mentioned once? He'll bring them to you again and again for date night. You're bothered by a specific situation or person? He'll make sure to keep you away if he can. And if not, he'll be there for you to hold your hand and reassure you.

E is for embarrassed. Logan is sometimes a little shy about how whipped he is about you. Like, really. He feels like a puppy around you, always keeping his eyes on you, always needing to feel you close. And yes, he's aware he's sometimes got separation anxiety. Especially when you're apart for too long, like when he's gotta go on missions you're not included in :((( but when he comes back, he'll stick to you for hours and refuse to let you go.

F is for fights. He hates fighting with you, hates whenever you're upset at him. He knows it's healthy to disagree, but it frustrates him so much because he's just constantly afraid that you'll get enough of him and leave him. But then after fights, when you two apologize and make up, he'll hold you close and pray to God or whoever is up there and listening that they never take you out of his life.

G is for greedy. So so so greedy. He wants you always, all the time, in too many ways. He can't let go of you, won't ever get over you. He adores you and he can never ever get enough. He wants everything you can offer and more, and sometimes he worries he demands too much. But when you're with him, so willing to love him, he knows it'll be okay.

H is for handsy. Logan's super super super handsy. Whenever, wherever, he's touching you. His hand on your lower back, your hand in his, his arm around your waist. If you're sitting somewhere, he has a hand on your thigh, your head on his shoulder. He's always feeling you next to him because it makes him feel safe.

I is for immature. Not in a bad way, really. Just sometimes he can be very immature. When you get busy, when you don't pay enough attention to him, he'll get pouty and upset, maybe even only grumble every now and then when you try to talk to him. Once you realize what's going on, however, all it takes are a few kisses and hugs and he'll melt in your hands, forgetting any slight.

J is for jealous. C'mon, Logan is crazy jealous, especially because of your age gap. He's worried that maybe those younger guys might someday seem more attractive to you than he is, and that scares him. And when he sees some twenty-something kid eyeing you, he gets pissed. He'll grab you closer, glare at whatever boy is watching you, and then he'll kiss you, maybe groping you a little for good measure. He ensures his message is clear: you're his.

K is for knuckle kisses. He'd never admit it to you, but he loves when you grab his hand and kiss his knuckles, right where his claws come out. There's something about the gesture, so soft and sweet, that makes his heart race and butterflies fill his stomach. He just loves when you show little hints of affection, it kills him in the best way.

L is for the L-word. He's so scared that you won't feel the same way, that when he realizes he loves you, he doesn't say it for almost months. He's terrified of scaring you off. If he lost you, he'd be done for. But one day, it slips out of him and when he sees the way your eyes light up and you smile, he knows you feel it too. And you tell him you love him more than he tells you, but that's just because he doesn't say it. He shows it. At first, he'd say it and nuzzle against your neck as he spoke the words. Now, he nuzzles into your neck and kisses your jaw and says, “You know I do, right?” And of course you know he loves you. He makes it so clear and he's not ashamed to.

M is for mornings. The first morning you wake up in his bed, he's mesmerized. You look so beautiful asleep there, tranquil, happy. So vulnerable, like someone he has to protect from this cold, fucked up world. He will never let anyone hurt you, he'll never leave you alone or in danger. He'll always be there for you, every morning for the rest of your life, if you'll let him.

N is for nights. Nights with Logan are the best. Especially if it's a weekend and neither of you has any work to do. You'll relax while he puts on a movie and makes popcorn, and you'll cuddle while you watch TV. Then, he'll let you put a face mask on, even if it's pink and shiny, because he knows you enjoy it and he also likes doing these things with you. He'll let you give him massages and do a skin routine. And he'll draw a bath and carefully wash you, his fingertips grazing over your skin with reverence. And then you'll go to bed to sleep, (among other things) and he'll hold you close all night long.

O is for ordinary. Logan knows he's a mutant and he's one of the X-men.. There'll never be anything ordinary for him. Never. But when he's with you on a tranquil morning and you two are lazying around or he cooks for you and you walk up and hug him, he thinks that maybe someday, you two could have a simple, domestic life. You and him, a picket fence, maybe kids if you want. He feels like maybe he deserves that kind of ordinary life, and he knows he wants it with you. Only you.

P is for period. When you're on your period, Logan is the sweetest, most caring man ever. He'll buy you whatever you're craving. He'll let you stay in bed, wearing his shirt and a pair of his boxers. He'll bring you pills if you need them and warming pads. He'll spend all day with you, babying you, making sure you don't lift a single finger. Not when he's around.

Q is for quandary. Logan isn't a big love man. He isn't used to relationships and he isn't sure about how to manage one. Especially when he's with you because you're so sweet, you're so young. He'd hate to break your heart or hurt you in any way, and he's terrified whenever he realizes how serious things are getting with you. He'll have a few panic attacks when he overthinks it. And one day, when he finally admits to you that he's not sure how to love, you smile softly and tell him, “Me either. I kind of just go with it.” And there. Right there, he knows you're the one.

R is for ring. Yes, ring. It's hidden in his closet, in a corner far away where you'll never find it. He never thought he'd be the type to marry and settle down, but the idea constantly haunts him every time he sees you. And now he knows, you're the one for him. All he's struggling to do is figure out how to propose. Should it be all fancy and well planned? Or spontaneous, when all the love he feels for you just gets the best of him? He's still not sure, but he knows he doesn't want to let a single month pass without asking if he can be your husband.

S is for safe. He's always alert, always on edge. But around you, his guard is down. For once, he's living in the moment, just enjoying the time he's spending with you, not worrying about whatever may be going out in the world. You're his safe space and he adores it. Whenever he comes home from a mission, stressed and on edge and upset, he'll just get back to the mansion, go into your room and lay in your arms. He'll let you hold him, make everything that happened go away until he's at peace. Until it seems like the world isn't gonna end the next day. Until your love consumes him.

T is for true. True because he knows how you feel about him is real. There are so many people that want something from him. But not you. No. You accept all of him. His mistakes, his flaws, his strengths, all of it. You just accept him. And what's more, you love him for it. And he knows how you feel is real. He knows you only want him. And it's the kind of love he's been looking for his entire life, the kind he can't ever live without, the kind he'll never let go.

U is for unwavering. Logan's love for you is unwavering. There is nothing, nothing you could do to make him stop loving you. For starters, he's a very bad man, much worse than you could ever be. The things he's done...And yet you love him. Compared to him, you're a saint. And it's so easy to love you. So easy. He sometimes feels it's unfair to you because it must be more difficult to love him. Still, he's extremely grateful for you and he knows nothing and no one will ever make him stop loving you.

V is for vulnerable. Logan's walls are made of steel. He never, ever opens up to anyone. He hides his emotions, expresses everything only through anger. But you make him vulnerable. You can read him like a book, there's no point in hiding anything from you, so he's found out it's easier to just open up to you. And he's surprised to feel...relieved. When he talks to you, his shoulders feel lighter. He's not as angry, not as mean. You make him a better person, and he loves you a lot for it.

W is for worship. The way Logan treats you is damn near to worship. He takes care of you like you're a goddess, a divine being he's not worthy of. But he tries his best. He cooks for you, he pays for everything if you let him. He'll take you out on dates, put his jacket on your shoulders, carry you if you two have gone dancing and your feet hurt. He sees you as a deity and he loves you. He worships you and he will continue for the rest of his days if you allow him to.

X marks the treasure. He's not sure what he did to deserve you, what superior power decided to put him in your path. He's even more amazed you're into him too. You're his treasure. He feels like he's been wandering around aimlessly until he ran into you. Until he found you, his treasure, his love. You're all he's ever needed.

Y is for you. You perfect, sweet, smart, young thing. You're gorgeous. You're funny. You're everything any guy would ever want. And you chose him? Him, out of all people? He can't believe it. He's not sure he ever will, but he's always grateful. You are his world. You are his everything. His motivation and his patience and his safe space. You're his life, his universe. Without you, there is nothing.

Z is for zeroed. Ever since he met you and you two started dating, Logan's entire perspective has shifted. Now, everything he does and thinks is zeroed in on you. You and your needs and how to make you happy. You're what gets him through every mission, what gets him out of bed in the morning. He feels like you give his life meaning. And that's not something he's ever gonna lose.

Nsfw

A is for addict. Because that's how Logan feels about you. Whenever he fucks you, when your pretty pussy is wet and clenched around his cock, he knows he'll never get enough. He knows only you'll make him feel this way and that he's going to start fucking you more often if he doesn't wanna lose his goddamned mind.

B is for breasts because Logan loves yours. He knows sometimes you feel insecure because they're not like this or they're like that, but he's never seen a prettier pair of tits on anyone. Yours are perfect. He can suck on them, bite them, nuzzle into them all day and still want more. And when he comes on them? Fuck. That's heaven right there for him.

C is for cockwarming. I imagine it would go like this. Really, Logan loves feeling your cunt around his cock. He loves seeing you squirm as you ache for the pleasure only he can give you. It sends his ego through the roof. Plus, he's just a man, how is he gonna resist you looking so beautiful and desperate on his cock?

D is for dacryphilia. One of his favorite things to do is fuck you for hours, slow and deep, making you come over and over and over again until you're crying from the ecstasy. He loves seeing you so weak, so vulnerable for him, so unashamed to show him how good he makes you feel. There's nothing better for him than when he sees those tears of ecstasy in the corners of your eyes and he knows he's doing a good job.

E is for endurance. Logan's healing ability also means that his body doesn't wear out as quick. So he can go for hours, literally fuck you an entire night without breaking so much as a sweat. You may be weak, panting, almost sobbing with pleasure, but he'll keep going until you tell him to stop. He'll fuck you dumb just because he can.

F is for “Fuck!”. That deep, low rumble that leaves his lips when he comes. Or the way he says it in your ear as he slides his cock into you. And when he sees you wearing some skimpy outfit, he'll murmur it under his breath. It's his go-to word, really, whenever you do or say or make him feel something that blows his mind.

G is for g-spot. Logan considers you to be a very knowledgeable woman in regards to your sexual pleasure. That's why he's surprised when, one day as he's fingering you and he curls his fingers against that spongy spot, your body convulses and you gasp, asking him what he did. So now, he redoubles his efforts when he fucks you, making sure his cock rubs your g-spot just how you like it, and he enjoys teaching you about the pleasures of that particular spot. But also, G is for guilt. You gorgeous, perfect, young thing. What are you doing with him? He's fucked up. Broken. A whole fucking mess. And you still love him. He feels guilty about it, as if he's stealing your life away. But when you look at him with those precious eyes and he sees the love in them, he knows he must be doing something right to deserve an angel like you.

H is for hickeys. Hickeys everywhere. If you've been with Logan, everyone's gonna know. He leaves hickeys where others can't see—the swell of your ass, your inner thighs, the underside of your tits and between them—but he also leaves them where everyone can see. Your shoulders, your neck, your collarbone. And you wear them with so much pride, it drives him insane. And knowing you have his marks under your clothes? Yeah, he loves leaving hickeys on your perfect body, just a little reminder that you're his.

I is for insatiable. No matter how much he gets, he always wants more. If you two have a couple of free days, it's guaranteed he'll fuck you senseless the entire time. His stamina is impressive, his dedication to your pleasure otherworldly. He can never get enough of you, and he takes more and more each time, always pushing you to your limits and then some.

J is for jealous. So right after he's established that you're his, he'll drag you to the nearest private corner and fuck you. He fucks you hard, rough, deep, making you come as many times as you can until you're weak and sweating and whimpering. He wants you to feel how much he loves you, how much he appreciates you, and he's hoping you'll never ever leave him.

K is for kink exploration. Logan will never, ever shame you for whatever you like. In fact, be quite enjoys learning what you like and, in turn, teaching you, as well as finding out what else you two enjoy. Not only does he feel more connected to you that way, but seeing the look in your eyes when he's doing exactly what you like the way you like it? Jesus, he lives for that.

L is for lingerie. Pretty lacy lingerie, usually tiny skirts and half-cup bras with little bows. He loves seeing you in them, he loves fucking you in them even more. The way you look in them has his mind reeling, and he also adores tearing them off you when you take too long to take them off. He adores it. So much so, that he can spend hundreds of bucks on lingerie he knows he's only gonna tear into pieces a few hours after they're bought.

M is for masturbation. Be it mutual or when you're not around, he likes to fist his cock in his hand and jerk himself while he imagines you or watches you. It's not the same as being in you, and it's not the same as you touching him, but it's better than nothing. What he likes most, though, is watching you touch yourself, his eyes fixated on your pussy as your fingers work eagerly to bring you to your orgasm. More often than not, he can't help but do it for you himself.

N is for naughty. You can be a naughty little thing sometimes, especially when you're trying to rile him up. He'll let you misbehave a little, like wearing those pretty skirts he likes on you or leave him Polaroids of you naked under his pillows. But he keeps count. When you strike out, he'll punish you. Rough, deep, hard, edging kind of punishment as he fucks you, taking out every little ounce of anger or frustration or jealousy you've made him feel. It'll keep you nice for a while, but Logan knows you'll act up again. And when you do, he'll be ready.

O is for oral. Now, yes, Logan loves when you suck him off. He loves seeing you on your knees, his cock all the way down your throat, the way you gag as you fit him. But he loves eating you out more. He can—and has—spent hours between your thighs, licking your cunt, enjoying your taste and your scent. He loves how you grind against his mouth, how you tangle your fingers in his hair and lead him to where you want him. He likes giving you that little ounce of control while he worships you like the goddess you are.

P is for pregnancy. The idea of you pregnant with his baby...Fuuuck. He imagines you nice and round, breasts heavy, his little child kicking in you. So he'll fuck you again and again, wanting so bad to fill you up and give you a baby. But P is for pullout also. Which he also enjoys, especially when he spills his load all over your stomach, or your lower back, and he gets to see the mess he's made. But one day, be promises himself, he'll give you one of his babies.

Q is for quarrel. Logan is in a constant state of war with himself. He loves taking control, loves how you submit with so much ease. But sometimes, he just wants to give in to you, let him do whatever you want. The thought haunts him at night and he's constantly considering asking you to take control for once, to let you do as you want with his body...

R is for raw. He's a very careful man, and you a very careful woman. But after being together for a few months, going raw is the obvious option. And once you do, Logan will never turn back. Your bare, soft, wet, tight pussy around his cock is a vice. Nothing with no one has ever felt as amazing as fucking you raw, and he needs it daily now. He has has has to feel your gummy walls on his cock if he wants to function properly, otherwise you'll all he'll ever think about and he doesn't want anyone reading his mind when they realize how distracted he is, especially since you're naked in there all the time.

S is for spit. Logan is a dirty, dirty man when it comes to sex. And there's not much he likes more than seeing you coated in his saliva. He likes to lick you all over, a thin trail of spit decorating your skin. He loves to spit on your tits, in your mouth, on your pussy and your ass. God, it makes him crazy. It's a small way of marking you, but it means the world to him.

T is for thigh fucking. Logan is a thigh man through and through. He'll finger you and make you come as many times as you need until your slick is all over your inner thighs, and then he'll stand behind you, slipping his cock between your soft thighs. And it's the only time during sex when he whimpers for you, his hands digging into your hips as he thrusts his hips, his long, thick cock rubbing your clit in the perfect way for him to pull more orgasms out of you.

U is for uninhibited. When he fucks you, Logan's mind is completely focused on you and the feeling of you. He doesn't even realize it when it happens, but he'll start murmuring, “Pretty pussy. So tight, so wet. So ready for my come.” Or, “Perfect tits. Perfect. Can't wait to knock you up, see them swollen with milk, maybe try some...” It's like he can't hold back his thoughts and they just leave his mouth without his permission. “Gorgeous. Fuckin' gorgeous, always so good to me. This cunt is so good to me, I'm gonna make her feel so good.”

V is for videos. His phone is full of videos of you, either of you touching yourself or spread out while he fucks you or your pussy wet and raw with his fingers pumping in and out of you. He'll watch those videos again and again, especially when you two are apart because of missions, and it's the only thing that keeps him going. He'll jerk off to the videos of you, groaning, gasping. He can almost feel your warm cunt around him, your wet walls tightening around him. He never lasts long when he watches your videos. And when he returns to you...Let's just say you won't be walking around the next day.

W is for whipped cream. Logan loves to spread whipped cream all over your body. On your stomach, your nipples, your pussy. And he licks it off. Little by little, the sugar mixed with your taste driving him almost over the edge. He's, maybe once or twice, actually comed in his pants just from licking the whipped cream off you. He loves it that much.

X marks the treasure. And in this case, you've marked a big yellow X on yourself. You're lying naked on his bed, the paint going from your shoulders, over your nipples, and crossing on your belly button, ending just at your thighs. You're waiting for Logan like this when he returns from a mission he'd said was particularly stressful over the phone. And when he sees you. Fuck, when he sees you. He shuts the door after himself quickly and walks to you, standing in front of you, stunned for a moment before he reacts. He's on you in seconds and he doesn't stop until you're a mess, sweating so much that the X painted on your skin is smeared everywhere. It's still one of his favorite times. And now, whenever he sees the X on his suit, he thinks of you.

Y is for yearn. Logan yearns for you, your touch, your body. And it's not always wild, rough sex. He actually enjoys making love to you, as corny as it sounds. Slow, deep thrusts, gentle kisses on your neck and face. He loves it. Holding you, his hands tracing your body, feeling your skin underneath his fingertips...He knows that everything that's happened to him is worth it since he gets to be with you. He yearns for your love, your approval, yearns to be worthy of you.

Z is for zeal. Logan is around 200 years old. He looks somewhere around thirty five, maybe more maybe less. But he fucks like he's in his twenties. He has so much enthusiasm when it comes to giving you pleasure. His stamina is crazy, his endurance unbelievable. You always end up more exhausted than him, body weak and sweating and trembling, and it fuels his ego. Knowing he can make a mess out of you even though he's much older than you makes him proud of himself.

---

Omg I'm so sorry this literally took me so long 😭😭😭 but I hope you guys enjoy it 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Blog masterlist

[alwaysanundertone]

Day 14, bet's on | rosekiller

@yourfiendlyneighbourspiderman sent a request for this one <3

smut

TW: NSFW, oral (fem and male receiving), bondage, piv, multiple orgasms.

part 1, part 2 will be released after kinktober

“… and he wanted to go back to his apartment, but obviously I refused and then he lashed out, saying I’m a prude and stuff, and it’s just so unfair” You were on your friends’ bed, there were many bottles of beers discarded on the floor. It was typical for you to hang out like this, talking about everything and anything. “I mean, it’s not like I am some type of prude-“

“Y/N, you are”

You widened your eyes, surprised, then shot Barty a dirty look. “Am not, thank you very much”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, stop lying to yourself and admit it. When was the last time you did something adventurous?”

You rolled your eyes, but, if you had to really think about it, you couldn’t find any examples: maybe they were right, maybe you had become a prude. Still, you couldn’t let them win. “I’m drunk and my brain isn’t co-operating, but there are plenty of examples.”

“Prove you’re not a prude, then.”

You scrunched your eyebrows. “How?”

They both exchanged a look. “How about a little game? You’re going to watch our next game from here, in our apartment: for every goal that we score, you’re going to take off a piece of clothing. If you run out of them, you’re going to tie yourself up, and you’ll be waiting patiently for us here, on our bed. When we’ll come home, we’re going to have free access to whatever part of your body is exposed”

You sat up straight, staring at them, your mouth agape. “What- What”

Barty chuckled. “Evan, I think we broke her. We understand, Y/N, you’re not that adventurous, it’s okay, it’s normal”

You felt your blood starting to boil, you never were the one to back down from a challenge, and you weren’t going to start now. “Okay, bets on. You’re going to score two goals maximum, anyways”

They exchanged a surprised look. “We’re going to see about that.”

You just turned up the tv, anxiety clawing at your stomach. Sure, they couldn’t score that many goals, right? It was nearly impossible; you were going to be just fine. For the first time, you wished their time would loose.

As they started to fly on their brooms, you saw Evan scoring the first goal. Hell, not even a minute had passed.

“And just like that, Rosier scores the first point…” You tuned out the speaker’s voice, seeing how Barty and Evan shared a smirk, the camera focusing on their high five.

“Okay, Y/N, it’s a single piece of clothing” You took off one of your socks.

But as the game went on, you found yourself quickly only in your panties and bra, feeling extremely nervous, praying for them to stop scoring points.

It wasn’t that they both weren’t extremely hot, the prospect of them both focusing on your body making you feel hot and bothered; no, it was the fact that you hadn’t experienced any sexual interaction in more than two years, and, even worse than that, you didn’t know how you would have reacted after the sexual intercourse. When they were finished with you, would you be feeling clingy? Would you develop a crush on them? What if you already were crushing on them?

Before you could pity yourself more, Barty scored another goal, followed by Evan, and you swore you could see them winking at the camera. With shaky hands you took off your panties and bra. Now you had to deal with the damned ropes.

At a certain point, you had fallen asleep, tied up on their bed. You startled awake when you felt a hand caressing your stomach, your eyelids fluttering quickly.

“There she is, our angel”

“Evan?”

He chuckled. “What a good girl, doing what she was told to do. Hope you’ve slept well, because the night has just begun. If it gets too much or you feel uncomfortable, say ‘red’ and we will stop.”

As you were about to reply, you felt a tongue licking up a stripe from your hole to your clit, making you whimper. Barty smiled up at you from between your thighs. “Look at you, so responsive. We’re going to have so much fun”

Evan kneeled, staring at your eyes, his gaze dropping to your mouth before dipping his head to kiss you. You moaned; he smiled in the kiss. “Sounds so cute”

“Rosier, get your ass down here and taste her” The blonde guy rolled his eyes, obeying to Barty. Suddenly, two tongues were feasting on your core, the stimulation making your brain turn to mush. “Oh, God, what the fuck”

The boys chuckled. “Yes, sweetheart, tell us how good we make you feel” You felt their tongues meeting over your cunt, then they stopped giving you attention. As you looked down, you saw them making out sloppily directly over your core, seeing them like that was probably the hottest thing you had ever seen.

You whimpered, catching their attention. “You like seeing us like this, don’t you? Naughty, naughty girl” They went back to focusing on your pussy, and you already felt really close to coming, your moans getting progressively more high-pitched.

“Are you going to come on our faces like a good girl, mh?” As soon as Barty inserted a finger in you, curling it upwards, you knew you were gone for. You let out a loud moan, your mind fuzzy, filled with fireworks and fucking rainbows as they worked you through it.

As soon as you came back, you saw in the corner of your eye Evan undressing, and suddenly you felt uncomfortable. “Yellow” They both focused immediately on you.

“What’s up, sweetheart? Do you want to stop?”

“No, but” You felt embarrassed to tell them this, but you knew you had to. “Thing is, I haven’t done anything in a while, and” You didn’t know how to continue, but they seemed to understand.

“It’s okay, we can go as slow as you can, do you want us to undo the ropes?”

You blushed furiously, shaking your head. They both exchanged a look. “Oh, so you like them, huh? Going to keep this in mind in the future”

You didn’t have time to make sense of the innuendo, because Barty was starting to pump his fingers into you, making you moan. He curled them, hitting a specific spot into you, making you mewl. “Evan, I think I found it” He proceeded to caress it repeatedly, working you up once again, but suddenly his fingers were gone, making you whimper in disappointment.

“I know, Barty’s so mean, love” You felt Evan’s dick at your entrance, he was dragging it up and down slowly, making you feel crazy with need. He put in just the tip, staying there for a minute or two, making you feral.

“Evan, please, pleasepleaseplease, I’m going to be good, just” You weren’t even controlling your words anymore, you just knew that you needed him inside of you, and you needed him now.

“Are you hearing this, Barty? She’s going to be good” He mocked you. “What if I stayed like this?” You whined; you would have pushed it in yourself if you weren’t fucking bound. He kneeled down, kissing your nose and entering you altogether, your breath catching in your throat. “Just kidding, you’ve been such a good girl, it wouldn’t be fair to punishing you”.

Once he started picking up the rhythm of his thrusts, Barty slightly slapped your cheek with his cock. “Open up, sweetheart” You did, starting to suck on the head of his dick, hollowing your cheeks, looking up at him innocently. “Fuck, Evan-“ You sucked him even harder, making him whimper. “Fucking hell, I won’t last”

“Neither will I” Evan called out from between your thighs. “She’s so fucking tight, it’s a miracle I haven’t come already”

You were a moaning mess, Evan was somehow capable of hitting all of the right spots, you felt your mind starting to black out as you came on his dick.

“Switch” You widened your eyes as the two boys switched places, the prospect of possibly coming again in such a short period of time making you squirm. Barty entered you with one violent thrust, making you loose your breath.  He positioned his index and middle fingers on your clit, making you mewl. “You’re going to come on my dick like a good girl”

You shook your head, Evan giving you a break to speak. “I… Can’t, it’s too much”

Barty cooed at you in fake sympathy. “Awe love, you have to get used to it, just because you’ve been with little boys who can’t make a woman come, doesn’t mean you won’t start now. You will come on my cock, and you will enjoy it” His words were making you even wetter, when he started attacking your G-spot you knew that you were gone for, coming all over him, both og the boys following you.

As you were cathing your breath, Evan started undoing the ropes, while Barty wetted a washcloth and started cleaning you. He smiled up at you. “Guess you aren’t a prude, after all” You scoffed, pushing him away slightly. tags: @sxmnc @peterparkerspersonalplaything @riaaavm @iamawkwardandshy @eeviee4 @mysterialee @famouscrusadeluminary @el1smells @rishofkf @mooonyxoxo @happymaeday @yourfiendlyneighbourspiderman @whyshouldihaveanam3 @amazing-bobinsky @barnesandmetal @just-here-for-ff @remussbitch @sammyreid

[iichfilwypj]

☾ closest to the moon | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of selene! reader ღ warnings: none ღ wc: 482

Over the dark ocean at night and the starless sky, the great, dazzling source of light everyone adored was missing. The moon was nowhere to be seen.

Have you ever met one of those people who are obsessed with the moon? And I’m not talking about the typical ‘Oh, how beautiful it looks today’; no, I mean those who pray to it, who confide their secrets to it, and who promise eternal love to nothing but the moon.

She could definitely be considered one; after all, her mother was the goddess of the Moon herself. How could she not worship her? 

The night was warm as she was sitting between Percy’s leg, with her chest resting against his back and her hands tightly intertwined with his. She was talking about some stuff that Percy could no longer comprehend, her voice too soft to focus. 

“I want to read A Thousand Heartbeats” One of his hands moved gently to her forehead, sweeping her hair back and nudging her head softly so he could place tender kisses on the crown of her head. He left his lips there, gently resting against her skin, and her body relaxed so much into him that he thought they could be merging into one. “Or Pride and-”

“The ocean looks prettier with the moon reflected on it.” Her voice faded, and for a moment, he regretted interrupting her. But soon, she shifted in his lap, placing her hands on his thighs and staring at him with such intensity that Percy had no choice but to look away, focusing instead on the ocean stretching out before them. 

“You think so?” With one hand on his jaw, she guided his gaze back to hers. Percy searched for words, but none came. He nodded softly, moving his hands to rest on her lower back. Everything felt so intimate, so close. “I guess they do”

And when she rested her head against his chest, Percy understood it; he had become one of those people. His eyes were only for the moon; except his was nestled closely with him, her chest against his and her hands caressing his face, the touch so delicate he felt like dying.

He found himself holding her very firm, as if to keep her from escaping back to the sky where she belonged. His moon kept speaking about something he could no longer comprehend, her voice the softest and most beautiful of all the moons that ever existed.

One day, he said that if the moon ever fell from the sky, he’d be there, arms wide open, ready to catch it and willing to bear its weight. He had once promised his girlfriend that, to make her happy, he’d pull the moon down with his own hands –or, if she preferred, he’d carry her up to it himself.

It turned out that the moon had found her way to him all on her own.

hi hi hi! i don't know what thi is, i got a bit more deep or profound (i just learn that word i love it) also i am OBSESSED with the moon it's not even rational by now.

[cptnhngjng]

pretty sounds (part 4)

“get up. don’t keep her waiting now. unless you don’t think you can handle it,” hongjoong challenged.

in which san finally gets to join in

-san x f!reader x hongjoong -2.2k words -smut, 18+ only, mdni -c/w: studio sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), threesome, face and ass slapping, messy and pathetic san, pussy drunk san, controlling mean hongjoong, probably missing other warnings

part one two three

not properly proof read so pls ignore any mistakes 🫶🏻

“fuck,” you heard hongjoong say. “you pathetic fucker. you came in your pants.”

you had your eyes closed, trying to come back down from your high. but hearing that made you open your eyes and look towards the man sitting on the couch in front of you. san’s face was flushed, eyes closed, and he was chewing on his lip. you had finally looked down at his crotch—his jeans were wet from when he came, untouched. came from just you alone being pleasured by your boyfriend.

“look at him, y/n,” hongjoong said, “you made san cum in his pants, like the pathetic little pervert that he is.”

san had finally opened his eyes and they were glazed over. he was so unbelievably turned on from what he saw happening in front of him. the words that hongjoong was saying sounded muffled and far away—all he could hear was his pulse pounding in his ears. he was desperately trying to catch his breath.

“get up, doll,” hongjoong commanded, smacking your thigh softly. you stood up, legs weak from your orgasm. “help clean up san like the good girl you are.”

you stepped towards san before falling to your knees in front of him. his eyes followed your every movement. with shaky hands, you reached towards his lap and undid the button and zipper of his soiled jeans. san shifts some as you start to pull down his pants, his boxers full of sticky cum. you started to rub at his cock through his mess, bringing it back to life, becoming hard again quickly. san hissed through his teeth when you finally freed him from his underwear and started stroking him softly.

“such a pretty cock, sannie,” you whispered as you placed a kiss on his tip. san bucked his hips when you took him into your mouth, causing you to gag.

hongjoong chuckled from his spot behind you. “very good, san. she’s a greedy whore who likes to choke on cock.”

a high pitched moan escaped san’s mouth as you took him deeper into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat. you gagged again, causing your throat to constrict around him.

“ah, fuck,” san whined out loud, his hands finding their way to your head, pushing you further down his cock. you groaned as you felt his cock twitch in your throat. you grabbed the hand that was holding onto your head and moved it, before pulling away from his cock.

“oh, sannie,” you cooed. “it’s too soon to cum again.”

you pumped his dick a few times, spreading the mix of your saliva and his cum over his shaft. you brushed your thumb across his slit, which earned you a loud, guttural moan from san. he threw his head back and you could feel the muscles in his thighs tense.

“y/n, please,” san begged. “please, please, please let me cum.”

hearing san begging to cum turned you on. your cunt started to ache for something. you squeezed your thighs together, praying that the friction would give you some relief. your hand started to slow down, and san was quick to wrap his hand around yours, forcing you to keep stroking his cock. after another minute, san released all over both yours and his hands and his shirt.

“you are so sensitive, san,” you said as you licked his cum off your hand.

“bet he wouldn’t even last a minute in your pretty pussy,” hongjoong commented. you had forgotten he was there for a moment, too focused on the whiny male in front of you. “he’d become too pussy drunk.”

“mmngh, i can handle it,” san muttered.

“i don’t believe you can,” hongjoong mocked san. “too pathetic and needy. you’d cum the moment you felt y/n’s pussy around your cock.”

“let’s give him a chance, joongie,” you say, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend. “maybe sannie will surprise us.”

you looked back at san and stared him right in the eyes. “want to try? i bet you are the type who likes to fuck from behind,” you teased him, running a hand down his thigh. a shiver ran through san as his cock started to get hard again. he knew he wouldn’t last long, especially not for a third orgasm, but he needed to fuck you more than anything.

san broke eye contact with you and looked towards hongjoong. the older male was definitely enjoying this—his pupils were blown out, face slightly flushed, and a very obvious erection was straining against his jeans. was it because he was being humiliated by both hongjoong and y/n? or was it because he genuinely enjoyed seeing his girlfriend fuck around with him?

for hongjoong, it was all about being in control. knowing that he had his girlfriend doing everything he asks of her. knowing that he has san at his mercy. whatever he says, it happens. he could feel himself getting harder and harder as time went by. he palmed at himself through his jeans as he thought about the next move.

“so you think you can handle fucking y/n?” he asks san. hongjoong really wanted to see how long poor little sannie would last. with a wave of his hand, hongjoong authorized san to fuck you. “just don’t fucking cum inside of her. only i’m allowed to do that.”

“get up. don’t keep her waiting now. unless you don’t think you can handle it,” hongjoong challenged.

san moved from his spot on the couch and you took his spot, getting on all fours. you wiggled your ass in anticipation…and to tempt san. san let out a deep breath as he finally positioned himself; he stroked his dick a couple of times before he finally lined it up with your pussy. it was very noticeable how horny and ready you were; you were leaking, just waiting to feel san’s cock inside you. his tip pressed against your wet folds, and he rubbed it through your slick, in an attempt to tease you. you whined, wanting more than what he was giving you.

hongjoong let out a curt chuckle, breaking san’s focus. “who do you think you are? trying to tease y/n? just fuck her already like the dirty whore she is. she’s been waiting for this, san.”

finally, san started to push his cock into your waiting hole. the stretch was more than what you were anticipating. he was bigger than hongjoong. thicker and slightly longer. you let out a low hiss and bit your lip as you felt san push further into you, not fully letting you adjust to him. he was too lost in the feeling of your tight cunt around him, he didn’t realize he was going too far.

“ahh, sannie!” you cried out, breaking san from his focus. “so big, please san!”

“doesn’t even know how to handle his own dick,” hongjoong teased, shaking his head in mock disappointment. by now hongjoong had finally undone his jeans was was softly stroking himself as he watched the scene in front of him. watched as you struggled to take san’s cock. watched as san was already becoming drunk off your pussy and he just started.

“slow down, please,” you begged. san stopped, realizing that he wasn’t letting you adjust to his size. he placed his hand on your lower back and rubbed soft circles, attempting to sooth you. “i’m sorry, y/n,” he whispered. “felt s’good.”

once you finally adjusted to san’s girth, you pressed back against him, tempting him. in a quick thrust, san bottomed out, his cock head pushing against your cervix. you moaned loudly, arching your back. thank god this studio is soundproof. “ah, fuck, san!” you exclaimed as he started to pound into you.

san’s hand found way to your hair, and he bundled it up into a ponytail, gripping it tight. you arched your back more, allowing san’s cock to hit you in all the right spots. san really was becoming pussy drunk. all he could think about was how good your cunt felt; how warm and wet it was, gripping his dick so tightly.

a loud smack echoed through the small studio, and there was a stinging sensation on your ass. san had slapped your ass. and he slapped it hard. you let out a moan and your pussy clenched around san’s cock. hongjoong raised an eyebrow before laughing quietly to himself in disbelief.

“fuck, san, you are getting a little cocky, don’t you think?” hongjoong had finally stood up from his chair and walked around the two of you, before standing in front of you. he stroked his cock a few more times before slipped his pants further down his thighs, fully exposing himself. “open up that pretty mouth of yours, y/n. let me fuck your throat,” he directed, slapping your cheek.

you opened your mouth, anticipating his cock. two more pumps of his cock before he thrusted into your waiting mouth. he groaned as he hit the back of your throat. your throat constricted around him as you gagged. your jaw went slack as he continued to fuck your face. being taken from both ends was pushing you towards the edge, you felt the knot in your stomach twisting—you were so close to cumming. you moaned, sending vibrations through hongjoong’s cock. his thrusts were getting harder. tears were falling down your cheeks, mixing with the spit that was leaking from your mouth.

san continued to fuck you from behind, but his thrusts were becoming sloppier. he was at the edge, too. a few more thrusts and he knew he was gonna cum. you bounced your ass back against san, finally pushing him over the edge. he pulled out quickly, not wanting to cum in you; he was afraid of what hongjoong would do if he had accidentally finished in your pussy. with a quick pump to his cock, he came all over your ass and lower back. white, sticky sperm covered your bottom half.

san closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath. hongjoong was still fucking into your mouth—he was getting close, too. because san had finished before you came, you whined in dissatisfaction. the whines you made sent hongjoong over the edge and he came into your mouth. you swallowed his cum and stuck out your tongue to show him. hongjoong caressed your cheek in approval.

“did you not cum yet, y/n?” hongjoong asked. “did san here cum for the third time without making you cum once?” hongjoong clicked his tongue and shook his head. “i think he needs to take care of that as soon as possible.”

“mm, need to cum,” you mewed. “sannie please make me cum.”

san moaned as you looked back at him with pleading eyes. hongjoong watched expectantly, waiting to see what san would do next. hongjoong took a step back, watching what was happening.

“i’m sorry y/n,” san apologized. “let me clean you up first, and then i can finish what i started.” san quickly grabbed the wet wipes that hongjoong has sitting on his desk, and quickly wiped you down, cleaning his cum off you. rough hands caressed your thighs as he flipped you around so you were sitting on the couch. you brushed your fingers through his dark hair, pushing his head closer to your core. your thighs trembled as san’s pushed them further apart.

“savor it, choi san. who knows if i’ll allow this again.” hongjoong’s voice was low.

the threat hung in the air as san dove into your cunt, hungrily licking up your slit towards your clit. he sucked and licked at you as if he hadn’t eaten his whole life. his thick fingers poked at your entrance as he continued to slurp messily against your clit. you rolled your hips against san, wanting more from him. his fingers curled up against your sweet spot, rubbing it roughly. san was messy. and loud.

you gripped at san’s hair tightly, pressing his face further against you. san ate you in a way that was so different from hongjoong. it was desperate and uncoordinated. you were about to reach your climax. your thighs began to quiver as you clenched them around san’s head. san moaned against your cunt—he was so intoxicated by your taste.

you were finally cumming. you threw your head back against the couch and let out a shaky scream. “fuck! san! i’m cumming!” your vision went dark for a moment, you didn’t know where you were. blood was rushing through your body, you could hear your pulse pounding in your ears. you laid there trying to catch your breath.

san pulled away and watched as you fell apart. he sucked your juices off his fingers, and hummed in satisfaction. “you taste so good, y/n. thank you.”

hongjoong came back over and patted san on his back. “congratulations, san. now get the fuck out of here.”

san quickly grabbed his clothes and dressed before sneaking out of the studio. meanwhile hongjoong was next to you, brushing your hair out of your face. he knew it was too much for you. you were still trying to come back to reality. he held your face in his hands as he placed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“you did so well, y/n.” he whispered. he helped you clean up and get you dressed again. continuing to pepper you with kisses.

[milkteabinniechan]

Professor Chan

Possessive Chan x !female reader

warnings : implied age difference (reader is over 18!) Just smut, probably typos

I love writing about possessive Chan so please let me know if you want more <3

You knew when his offive hours were. You had memorized the hours. You fantasized. You lost track of time in his classes, staring at his hands, his lips, the way he walked across the lecture hall. He spoke so passionately about everything. He would recite poetry with fire in his eyes. And every time he made eye contact with you, your body shudder. Jesus Christ, your body would literally shudder. You'd lick your lips and close your legs together, squeezing around nothing. An emptiness you were begging him to fill. You weren't even subtle about it anymore. Your eyes glossy with need and desire. You wanted him to see you. Really see you. You were all his.

Now you were here. On his desk. During office hours. Unbuttoning his slacked black pants. His hands gently around your neck while his lips traces kisses down your neck. Once his zipper reached the end of it's line, you reach in eagerly to pull him out completely. You chuckled deeply into your neck at your readiness. It was making him hungier. You wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, the girth of him pulsing into your palm. God, he was huge. You found yourself praying to a god you didn't believe in to will you the strength to take him completely.

"I want you to teach me something, professor." You spoke softly. A small smirk grew as Chan lifted one of your thighs high to give him the best view. A string of wetness spread across your center and you exposed yourself to your teacher. Your heart began to race faster as his hand gripped tighter around your thigh. His other hand grabbed your chin to pull your focus to his eyes. You were very focused on another, larger, part of him.

"are you ready?" His question was genuine. He was focused on your face, waiting for your answer. Unmoving until you responded. "Yes. Yes. Yes." You answered in slow succession. You wanted him to hear every single Yes you uttered. With that, Chan began to slide in you. Slowly at first, the sensation of fullness already becoming too much. You grabbed onto his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you from levitating off of the Earth itself. This man. This man.

Chan was now farther inside of you. Not completely. But enough now he could grip your ass and help you move into him. You started a rhythm with him almost instantly. Both of you pushing and thrusting. His hips bucked into you and you saw stars. Your hand was wrapped around his tie now. A red tie. You loved when he wore the red tie. The leverage it gave you allowed you pick up speed. A primal growling rose from your professor.

"Am I doing good, sir?" You begged for approval. You loved it. You needed it.

"You're doing so good. Look at you. You're doing so good for me." Chan was picking up speed now. You were leaving a mess on his desk, you could feel it beneath you. You were so close. His full length now inside you entirely. Your core becoming so hot, your release was reaching its peak now and you were near falling apart. In danger of being left a puddle on his desk.

As you screamed through your climax, Chan pressed a hand over your mouth, still thrusting vigorously. "You'll have to be quiet, another class might hear you." He said with a smile.

He loved the thought of that as much as you did. You broke apart for him and his eyes promised to put you right back together again. You just hoped this wouldn't be the last time you came to visit him during office hours.

[consciouscarrot]

day 25 - daddy kink [j.price]

john price x fem!reader

content warnings; mentioned wet dream (r), oral (f!receiving), p in v sex, creampie, daddy kink (obvi), sweet sex <33

notes; he’s so daddy oh my gosh, and i’m slowly catching up on these fics yay :) longer one again tday, can you tell i love him? as always, mdni and blank blogs get blocked.

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

you’d been tossing and turning for a while, having woken up after a very memorable dream with slick smeared between your thighs and an ache deep in your belly.

you’d tried to ignore it at first, not wanting to disturb john, thinking you could just go back to sleep and everything would be fine.

but almost an hour later, it had only gotten worse, and it didn’t help that he’d forgone a shirt, the sight of his softened stomach and hair covered chest making you nearly salivate, subconsciously rubbing your thighs together to try to ease some of the tension.

biting your lip, you decided to just try and wake him up, and figured that if he denied you, you’d just sneak off to the bathroom to get it out of your system. carefully shaking him, you whispered his name, internally praying that he’d say yes.

he startled awake, quickly checking the room over for threats before turning his concerned gaze to you, pulling you into him.

“what’s the matter, sweetheart?” he let out a heady groan, further worsening your condition, pussy throbbing around nothing and sending you reeling.

you whined, burying your face into his neck and squeezing your eyes shut as you bucked your hips against him, far too shy to tell him aloud.

he chuckled, chest shaking against you as he realised what was going on, strong hands rubbing your back in sympathy.

“my girl feelin’ needy? we can’t have that now, can we?”

grunting lowly, he rolled over on top of you, leaning up on his elbows to look at you, stroking away the stray hairs that had fallen over your face, your eyes still shut as he planted a sweet kiss on your lips.

“open your eyes f’daddy,”

your lids fluttered open, eyes glazed over as you looked up at him dreamily, hopeful for him to provide you relief with his body. you visibly melted beneath him when he traced over the edge of your jaw, sighing softly at his delicate touches.

“i love you, daddy,” you whispered, chin tipping up in a honeyed plea for more kisses, smiling sleepily against his lips when he gave in, mouths moving together in slow movements, your tongues swirling together sluggishly.

“i. love. you. too,” john said, words split up by chaste kisses pressed all over your face, grinning at your little giggles, squirming from the ticklish feeling of his beard.

you pawed at him, wiggling your hips to try and get his attention a little lower. ever attentive, john’s hands slid over your body, rubbing at your waist as he leant down, trailing wet kisses down stomach, lips grazing over your soft skin. your breath hitched when he hovered over your heat, gently blowing air onto your pearl, grinning at the breathy moans you let out from such little stimulation.

purposely avoiding where you wanted him, he shifted down further to your inner thighs, rough hands palming at your skin whilst he kissed there too, eyes never leaving yours.

you really tried to be patient, but he was so close to your pussy, tangy slick pooling along your slit, that you couldn’t help but buck your hips again, chewing on your lip in anticipation.

“you’re neglecting me,” you whined, voice wobbling with crocodile tears.

“shh, i know,” he laughed, “gon’ be good f’me, baby?”

“yes i promise, please, daddy,” you squeaked, nodding along eagerly.

“okay, bug. i’ll give y’what you want,”

he licked a broad stripe over your cunt, groaning into you at the taste, sending vibrations shooting up your body. you cried out as he slurped at you, tongue focused on your clit as he flicked and sucked at the delicate nub, all messy and sloppy with his arms holding you firmly into the bed.

your back arched slightly, desperately grasping for anything to hold onto, patting at the sheets, only relaxing when he reached up and intertwined your fingers together, happy to let you dig your nails into his skin.

sweet moans slipped out from between your parted lips, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the delicious way his beard scratched against your skin, high rapidly approaching both from being so pent up and his ravenous mouth.

another deep moan into your cunt sent you over the edge, thighs enclosing around his head as you gripped tightly at his hands, powerful waves of pleasure washing over you, rendering you near breathless.

he rubbed along your thighs, massaging slowly as he waited for you to come down, resisting the urge to hump against the mattress, cock throbbing from both your taste and sounds.

“good girl, honey. ready for more?”

“yes daddy, need you,”

pulling your legs around his waist, he hovered above you, leaning down to kiss you, the sweet taste of you bleeding from his tongue to yours, nipping at your bottom lip, meeting your gaze with half-lidded eyes.

john quickly stripped off his boxers, bringing his thick cock up to your weeping pussy, tapping his tip against your clit a couple times as he lubricated himself with your arousal.

you whined, growing increasingly impatient, one orgasm not enough to satisfy your urges, desperately needing to feel him inside you.

“easy,” he said, drawing out the word deeply, eyes flicking up to yours in warning.

you both moaned at the relief of him pushing into you, slowly forcing you to accommodate his thick length, walls pulsing around him as you gasped, faces so close together you could see every little scar on his face, every hair on his jaw, every shade of blue in his eyes.

he internally sighed a breath of relief when you finally settled under the heavy weight of him, tummy grazing against yours with each thrust of his hips, your pretty lips parted with the string of cries slipping past them.

you wrapped yourself around him the best you could, in all ways possible, legs wound tight around his waist, arms around his neck, fingers clutching at whatever pieces of him you could reach, cunt sucking him into you, silently begging him to fill you with his spend.

he adored the blissful look on your face, wishing that he could be here all the time, so that you would never know anything but everlasting ecstasy, that you would be constantly full of his cum, belly swollen and round with his babies.

fingers lacing through his hair, you tugged him even closer to you, exchanging sloppy kisses as your dragged your nails from the base of his scalp, past his shoulders, trailing down his broad back, eliciting rugged moans from him, making you clench down on him.

you mewled loudly, his skilled hands circling your clit as the coil deep inside of you tightened again, you were barely able to hold back, waiting for his permission, only moments away from it snapping.

“oh- can i come, daddy? please?”

normally, he would’ve dragged this out, waiting until you had begun to lose control before saying yes, loving the way you trembled at the sheer effort it took you to stifle your orgasm, the look of panic on your face as you involuntarily began to give in. but, john himself was so close to falling over the edge, and knew that if he waited he’d end up embarrassing himself, so aroused from you waking him up from neediness and the feel of you coming against his tongue.

“cum for me,” he commanded, gasping as his hips stuttered, eyes locked onto the way your face contorted to the point of almost looking like you were in pain.

the coil immediately snapped, whole body shaking as euphoria flooded you again, whimpers and groans coming from the two of you as you came together, your slick mixing with his pearly cum inside of you, velvet walls spasming around his cock.

thoroughly worn out, you went fully slack, limbs falling back on the bed as you already began to drift back off, finally satiated and happy.

he collapsed next to you, rubbing gentle circles over your damp skin, letting out a slow, relaxed sigh, very pleased that you had ended up waking him, and eventually got up to clean the mess between your sore legs.

you were half aware of john moving about, whimpering when a warm cloth bristled against your sensitive clit, his shushing and quiet praises, before he joined you, pulling your body into his, sleepily groaning into your neck when you melted into his warm embrace.

[lieutnt]

i promised i would post this so enjoy a half-baked fic/drabble i sent to alec at 2am

john price x werewolf!male reader cw: piss kink (just a little), possessiveness

Werewolf!Reader joining the 141, and with you comes a guidebook about having a werewolf on the team. It’s given to Price and he decides to read through it, most of it obvious stuff that he could have guessed but something sticks out to him, a section that reads ‘As the bond between a Werewolf and its pack mates (the soldiers it serves with) grows, some have shown a tendency to become possessive over their territory and those within it.’ It has Price slightly concerned, and since he’s inexperienced with dealing with werewolves he calls you into his office to discuss it.

He asks you to clarify what this ‘possessiveness’ can mean - for your territory and your pack mates. Before you can stop yourself you make a joke, “I’m not gonna be pissing anywhere other than the toilet if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Price is confused at first until you explain the joke about werewolves marking their territory and warning other werewolves away. It makes something flutter through Price and he dismisses you, except the thought of others like you being able to smell your claim on him has his pants growing tighter, thighs squeezing together and suddenly he’s finding it hard to sit still.

Cut to however long of working together and the relationship between you is way passed soldier and commanding officer - not only is Price yours, you are his. Every so often the thought of what he read in that guidebook floats through his mind, especially when on certain days you’re attached to his hip but he never acts on it, not until one day another team with a werewolf is temporarily staying on base. Full preparations are made, keeping you and the other werewolf apart as much as possible to try and prevent any unnecessary tension, the 141 is very clearly your pack and Price doesn't want the headache if something happens. 

Price still has a duty as Captain to interact with the other team, and when he comes back to his room (that you’ve practically moved into), you’re instantly on him, huffing at his scent and pulling away in disgust when you catch whiffs of the other werewolf on him.

You rectify that quickly, stripping him of his clothes and scenting yourself on his body, fucking him until he’s sure his insides are moulded to you. When you carry him to the shower and his brain is still rebooting the question slips out, Price asking if marking your territory is true. You don’t give an immediate answer, Price finally turning to you to see the way your eyes are focused on him, and just by your breathing he can tell you’re interested. 

As the water switches on Price hides his face in your chest and mumbles how he wouldn’t mind if you marked him like that. His face burns with embarrassment as he waits for your answer, mind running wild with thoughts on if he’s pushed too far when your grip on him tightens and you press him against you, mouth dropping to his ear to tell him to get on his knees.

He does, looking up at you as if he was praying at an altar as you grip your cock and aim towards his kneeling body, nothing happening for a few seconds until he feels the warm stream hitting his chest and trickling down to between his thighs. Despite how eagerly you fucked him earlier his cock makes a valiant effort to harden again, and by the time you’re finished you’re both hard again. You fuck him multiple more times in the shower, being able to smell yourself so clearly on Price sending you haywire.

The next day you manage to catch the moment the other werewolf attempts to approach Price and stumbles over his feet, quickly turning around and walking away. Price stands confused for a few seconds until his cheeks and the tips of his ears start to turn pink as he realises what just happened.

[jewels-writes]

Call of Duty - Fatal Injury Scenarios

Warnings: There is character death in all of these. You, the reader, are fatally injured. In Keegan's, there are themes of drug overdose, I know some people can be considerably sensitive to that. Please consider this your warning. Do not read further if you feel you may be triggered by these topics. Included Characters: Ghost, Price, Keegan, König Word Count: 1.9k Notes: This is very lightly proofread, apologies for inconsistencies or typos/grammatical errors. As always, requests are open. — — — —

Ghost (gunshot):

You and Ghost were paired up for a mission, per usual. You had to clear a building, you took the upstairs, Ghost took the ground floor. You heard the occasional pop of gunfire from downstairs, praying it was Ghost’s gun that was making the sounds.

Focusing on your own work, you cleared the upstairs rooms, being as thorough as possible. As you went through the rooms, you gunned down the enemy, not hesitating once. You were a soldier, you knew hesitating could mean life or death.

“Clear.” you relayed into your communications headset. Before you could turn your radio off, a door swung open at you, the enemy raising their gun and putting three rounds through your chest. Your vest normally would have stopped the bullets, but not this close. You made a gurgling noise before crumpling to the ground, your gun clattering out of your hand beside you.

“Report in, what’s going on up there?” Ghost demanded, making his way to the stairs, gun trained at the top of them. “Soldier, come in.” He ordered, but got nothing in response. He knew something was wrong. You didn’t respond, you couldn’t. Not when your lungs were turned to swiss cheese.

He saw the figure of a body on the ground and after seeing the uniform, he knew it was you. You looked dead.

“Fuckin’ hell..” He clenched his jaw and looking around, his gun raised, waiting for the enemy. He knew they were lurking around here somewhere. He heard a floorboard creek off to the right and burst the door down, shooting the enemy with deadly precision. He didn’t stop even after they’d fallen to the ground. He was furious, angry that the enemy had been able to touch you.

With the threat neutralized, Ghost moved to your side, kneeling beside you. His hands hovered over you, unsure how to fix your injury. His face contorted beneath his mask, realizing the bullets went through your vest and to your vitals. His eyes looked up to yours, looking for a sign of life.

Your labored breathing gave him hope. Hope that you were hanging on. 

“Can you hear me..?” His voice was low and careful, his eyes searching your confused expression. “You did good, soldier. You did good.” He could see you were losing your fight and his gloved hand came down to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing your skin.

He was beside you as you took your last painful breath, his hand on your cheek. His heart seemed to stop with yours. He grieved in silence, never being a man of many words when it came to losing someone. Gently, he removed your dogtag, placing it next to his own.

“Until we meet again, soldier.” — — — —

Price (bombed):

After the mission, everyone was exhausted as they all squished into the transport truck. Price sat next to you, his hand resting on your thigh. It was a tough fight, and he knew you needed your rest. He guided your head to his shoulder, a normal routine between the two of you.

Just as your eyes began to close, there was an explosion in the distance.. It sounded like bombing. Then there was another one. And another. Getting louder. Getting closer.

“Price? What’s going on?” You asked, lifting your heard from his shoulder and looking around.

The next instant everything went black. The truck was targeted by an aircraft, the spraying of it’s missiles were the last thing you heard before you passed out. 

When you came to, it was to Price dragging you out of the wreck. The next thing you registered was the agonizing pain you were in. Everything hurt, everything burned. It was like you’d been used as a punching bag before being thrown into an oven.

“Shh, shh. You’re okay. You’re okay.” Price’s voice was in your ear as he pulled you away from the burning wreck, his fingers looped into your vest’s handles on the back. “Look at me, you’re okay.” He muttered with a grunt, pulling you away farther.

You tried to talk, tried to ask him what happened. But you couldn’t, didn’t quite know why. Reaching a hand up, you felt around your neck, feeling an uncomfortable pressure there. Your hand froze when you felt hot liquid.

“John-” You mouthed, a dreadful realization dawning on you. Hearing your struggle, his eyes met yours before flicking down to where your hand was probing at your neck. You saw his anguish in his expression, no matter how hard he tried to mask it.

“Oh, shit.” Was all he could manage. “Look at me, you’re gonna be fine. It looks worse than it is.” He lied through his teeth, kneeling beside you, one of his hands running through your hair, the other hovering over your neck. He knew you wouldn’t make it. The gash had gone through an artery. He could see the inside of your neck.

“Shh.. shh.. I’m here. Look at me.” He soothed you, placing both hands on either side of your face, looking you in your eyes. “You did good. You’re the best of the best.” He tried his best to not get choked up. He could see you were fading, the blood spilling from your neck onto the ground, staining the grass a brutal red.

He watched as the last remnants of life flickered out of your eyes, left open and unseeing. His face contorted as he registered that he watched your final breath. He reached a hand up to cover his mouth in despair.

“I’m sorry, my sunshine.” Price felt the tears running down his face as he retracted his other hand. Reaching for your dogtag, he clutched it in his fist, holding it to his chest. “I won’t forget you.” — — — —

Keegan (overdose):

“Sweetheart? I’m home!” Keegan called as he kicked off his shoes in the entryway to your shared home. Normally he’d hear you bounding down the stairs, eager to hug him after he’d been away after a long mission, tackling him near to the ground. It sent a pang of concern through his body when he heard nothing but the air conditioning unit in response. “Honey? Where are you?” He called out again, his body tense with gnawing dread. Something felt wrong.

Everything in the immediate area looked fine, but he couldn’t rule out a potential break in. Not when you were his lover. Not when you meant so much to him. His hand reached for his concealed pistol, unclipping the button that covered it, resting his hand on the body of it, ready to use it if necessary.

Remaining quiet, he searched the house, starting with the main areas. Living room, dining room, kitchen. All clear. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, it dawned on him that you could just be asleep. He jogged up the stairs, ignoring the soreness from deployment. 

The light was off in your shared room. It made him feel slightly relieved, realizing you were probably just asleep and that he’d been worked up over nothing.

Quietly turning the knob, he opened the door and let out a slow breath. There you were, sound asleep on his side of the bed, holding one of his hoodies he’d left you. 

“Christ. You’re asleep. Had me worried as hell.” He grumbled, taking his hand off his pistol and walking around to the side of the bed and switching the lamp on, hoping to slowly wake you up. As he retracted his hand from the bedside table, he froze, his eyes catching a pill bottle he hadn’t seen before he left for his mission. Was it new? Picking it up, he inspected the label. “Sleeping pills..? How many..” His voice trailed off as he looked back over to you, his eyes on your back, looking for breathing. For any movement.

“Sweetheart? Oh shit.” His voice gained volume as he shook your shoulder. Nothing. “Babe, wake up right fucking now.” His voice grew more concerned. Reaching for your wrist, he begged silently for a pulse, his stomach dropping when he didn’t feel one.

“No.. no please.” Keegan’s voice hitched as he pressed harder into your cold skin. It was no use. Your life had been taken hours before he arrived home. It was an accident, you were just trying to get some sleep, turning to pills to help your insomnia. You’d taken too many.

“Why..? Oh my god.. Sweetheart, please don’t do this to me. You were my everything..” — — — —

König (poison):

The mission was going smoothly, no issues yet. You and König worked together like a well-oiled machine, picking up the slack where the other lacked perfectly. As you and him reached the office, König motioned for you to go in, implying he’d stand guard as you grabbed the intel needed.

Nodding, you stepped inside, doing a quick sweep over the small office. There was no one inside, just a normal office space. Moving the the computer, you powered it on, hooking up your own laptop to break into the locks. As you worked, you felt on edge, like somethin was wrong. This was too easy. As you saw the file on the desktop, hidden under a false name, you faltered.

Cursing at yourself, you clicked on it anyway. The instant that you did, the room went dark, replaced by a flashing red that came with alarms sounding. König, who’d been standing just outside the door, immediately tried to help, his hand shaking the handle of the now locked door.

“Shit-! It’s a trap!” He called from the other side. “Are you okay? What’s going on in there?” He demanded, his voice high with concern. Looking around, you realized something. The room was filling with some kind of gas. 

Hurriedly, you stuffed your laptop back into your pack before rushing over to the door, putting your whole body weight against it. Your hand came up to cover your mouth as the gas reached your face. You realized it was some kind of toxin. And of course you didn’t have a gas mask. 

“Schatz! Get out of there!” König shouted from the other side, his fists connecting with the door. “Back up! I’m kicking the door in.” He ordered, hoping you’d get out of the way in time.

Stumbling back, you leaned heavily on the desk, the toxin affecting you. Your knees were weak, you felt your mind detach from your body. You couldn’t control it when your body slumped to the ground, your eyes rolling back.

As König delivered a devastating blow to the door, it flew off of it’s hinges, landing on the other side of the room. “Schatz! Nein.. nein.. Look at me.” He kneeled beside you, tapping your cheek. Cursing to himself, he put his arms under you, hoisting you up over his shoulder as he began to run out of the toxic office space. When you two were out of the building, he propped you up against the wall, his stomach flipping when your body was completely limp.

“Hey, hey, wake up.” He begged, shaking your shoulders as he squatted beside you. “Gott verdammt, look at me!” With a sickening realization, he saw you weren’t breathing. “Nein..” He muttered as it felt like his heart shattered in two.

“Schatz.. Come on.. Open your eyes.” He begged, cupping your face in his hands. It was useless, whatever you’d breathed in was toxic enough to kill you. 

“I’m so sorry.. I failed you..”

[thebadboyfanclub]

Gods Have Mercy (Daemon x Reader)

This was very particular but so much fun, I was listening to “God help the outcasts” from the hunchback of notre dame which is the whole vibe I’m going for. Please leave a comment about what you think I really do appreciate them. Hope you enjoy

Daemon felt like a fish out of water when he stepped into the Sept, a sea of candles and utter silence as the statue stood tall and stoic, its shadow could frighten a small child or command a common man to bow,

Hesitantly Daemon approached as he looked around to take in the small details, the dim lighting, and the smell of herbs burning, he was not accustomed to the routine of a man that came to pray, truly he was forced to even step foot in here, his brother the king commanded him after he was found on the side of the street naked after a 3-day bender on the streets of silk.

“Wonderful isn’t it? Just its presence brings goosebumps”

A woman’s voice startled him that came from behind, swiftly he spun on his heel to view the person that interrupted his thinking but also kind of knew what was he focusing at.

A young woman dressed in the usual gown of a Septa, as the light managed to shed some light within the room he could see her dark hues that reminded him of grass, her red plump cheeks, and pink lips, she was… beautiful, a concept that was quite foreign for someone that had hid behind the burden of a Septa.

“You are too young to be a Septa”

“You honor me, my prince”

“Why did you even choose this? Or was it forced upon you?”

“You can ask me all the questions you want it will not change the fact that you feel awkward within the walls of our sacred place”

She spoke the truth, Daemon shifted on his feet as he once again looked around to no actual aim, it was just to buy himself some time until he finds the proper way to respond.

“Honestly I am disappointed, I was told I would burn alive if I ever even walked past from here”

“The Gods guide, they forgive, they simply take you under their wing and protect their children that chose to follow their path”

“What happened to you? There must be something that forced you to have this mindset”

The Septa remained silent, she could sense the prince's urge to not only figure out what lay behind her mask but to also find a way to kill time, her guess was that he was not a common visitor, and judging by the comment he was not a follower of the faith either.

She simply walked past him and kneeled in front of the candles, she lit two of them and placed one in front of her and the other by her side, once she intertwined her fingers with one another she waited for him to follow.

“I promise nothing will happen to you if you kneel my prince”

Daemon scoffed at the Septa who called for him, howbeit he complied and with heavy footing and a little bit of grunting, he kneeled and mimicked her gestures.

“A few years ago I fell from the top of a whore house”

“What were you doing on top of a whore house”

“I come from a poor family, we lived near it and I wanted to know what was all the yelling coming from. I was bedridden for a full moon turn, I broke my hand and got an infected cut on my thigh, the fever was the worst part, yet all I could hear was my mother praying, she prayed to the mother to save me, she prayed to…. To take her instead, she offered her life for mine, so I prayed to the mother to spare us, to nourish me back to health, and in exchange, I would devote my life to the faith”

The Septa had not realized she had started to cry, the voice of her mother crying and begging for her child to be saved rung in her head to this day as clear as the sky. Daemon instinctively reached to wipe the Septa’s tears away, the love of a mother was always the strongest force, he could faintly recall his mother, such a spirited woman, he would often wish to feel her hug one more time.

“That is why I believe the Gods will listen to you, is there anything you have to say?”

“I lost my mother due to childbirth, if the Gods listened to you? Why did they ignore her?”

“We are all children of the Gods, some of us must stay and some must depart from the physical realm, you can still find her, in the gust of a wind, within the walls of the Sept, maybe in the silence of your chamber whilst you lay for the night, why don’t you try?”

“How to do I-“

“Just… listen”

Daemon stopped talking, he just waited for something, he did not know exactly what but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose and out his mouth making his shoulders relax.

(Y/n) could slowly pick up his facial expression change, his tough front slowly break and then came one tear, then a second, a minute after that came the first sob, slowly but in a steady pace Daemon went from a cold warrior to a boy that cried with his head on the lap of the Septa who allowed him to be engulfed by the vulnerability he had shoved at the very back of his mind.

Daemon was inconsolable, trembling like a leaf in the winter wind, (y/n)s heart shattered for the poor prince, all she could do was stroke his hair while he fought with the waves of emotions he had turned a blind eye to for years.

“I’m sorry”

“There’s no need to apologize, emotions are what makes us human, mayhaps the saying of Targaryens are closer to gods than to men is not deliberately true”

“What is your name?”

“I am (y/n), my prince”

“(Y/n)”

He whispered more to himself. The name tasted like honey in Daemon's mouth, without really understanding why Daemon smiled at the sound of her name slipping through his lips, it rolled off his tongue so naturally like he was meant to call for her, to meet her.

“Can I see you again?”

“The Sept is my home, my prince, I will be here”

Daemon visited her every morrow after he broke his fast, once he found her lighting some candles, he found her praying, a few times she would conversate with other visitors of the Sept, (y/n) would be there for him for as long as he needed, however, it would always be on arm's length, a veil of faith and celibacy kept them apart, (y/n) could not marry nor bare children, she would forever be a maiden dedicated to the Mother.

(y/n) had once professed her wish to help women with childbirth, perhaps be a midwife for the poor, her selfless act was astonishing to Daemon, a young lady that was so soft-spoken and kind that some would say she was the Maiden herself in human form that came down to serve the Mother, Daemon witnessed how others would yearn for (y/n)s encouragement, old women and men, even children would run to her and hug her, he could imagine what it would be like if their children ran to her arms.

“May the Warrior guide you and keep you safe my prince”

“Can I write to you?”

“It is not common”

“Would you get in trouble?”

“The followers can be close to us in any way they wish”

“Then I want to write to you”

“As you wish”

(Y/n)s heart skipped a beat at the pressing question of Daemon, she had prayed many times asking why the Gods send her such temptation, the kind prince that tested her oath every day with his gentle words and soft touch, the Father was resting her judgment there was no doubt about that.

“I- I want to give you this”

(Y/n) presented a small pendant that was the star of the seven, it wasn’t of value but (y/n) had prayed over it and begged the mother to protect Daemon, to wrap him in her cloak and keep him safe.

“It would mean a great deal to me if you wore it”

“Thank you, I shall bring it back to you, alive”

(Y/n) subtly looked around before she gave in to her urge and rushed into his arms for a hug, she might never see him again, war was cruel and the Stranger visited often if this was their last encounter then she shall at least know what his hugs felt like.

Daemon hugged her tightly, he feared for his life but mostly he feared that he might never be able to call for her again, to say her name and see her bright smile on every morrow.

“If I come back, I want us to leave together”

“Daemon”

“Please (y/n), see it as a sign, if I survive this then we are meant to be together, the Mother will protect me only if you agree to marry me”

“Do not use the Gods for a vile game”

“It is not a game, I-I love you”

“Leave, please”

“(Y/n)”

“May the Gods have mercy on your soul”

She simply dismissed him after she pulled away to turn her back on him, Daemon took a step but stopped before he took another, he could not see it but (y/n) was already tearing up, she felt her heart rip to pieces as his steps echoed less and less until they became nothing, the silence lasted only a minute before her sobs took over.

In a blink of an eye (y/n) kneeled in front of the candles, the burden was a heavy one for a girl, she had never experienced such a trial, she had almost looked the Stranger in the eye still this was the most difficult of all.

“I beg you, Mother, I beg the Gods, show me a sign, I do not know what to do, I am a mere mortal, help your child, if you can hear me, please help me”

She muttered in between her cries, she felt weak, unable to continue by the fear of making the wrong choice as she stood at a crossroads, was this union a blessing or a test?

Daemon fought fiercely during the day and at night he would lay and play with the pendant, twirling it around his fingers and sometimes even resting it on top of his lips, was she praying for him? Was she waiting for him? Did she wish to see him again? Questions raced in his head before the dreams took over and brought him the gift of imagination, his precious (y/n) playing with their children, 5 children, he could almost taste her but she was always slipping through his fingers, never enough time to hug her as tightly as he could.

(Y/n) was tormented, with bags under her usually bright eyes, sunken cheeks, and pain growing on her legs as her mother fell ill, with a high fever, (y/n) stood by her side until the very end.

“Go to him, my sweetling, he waits for you”

Her mother whispered before she left her last breath, (y/n) had tired herself from crying to the point that she did not know what was she even crying about anymore, was it the worrying over Daemon? Her mother's passing? The overall confusion over what her life has come to?

“(Y/n)?”

She brushed it off as her mind playing tricks with her now, she continued to pray along, it was the only thing that had kept her somewhat sane, the Gods had been cruel to her, not only did they take away her mother but Daemon has stopped sending her ravens if he was alive and well was unknown to her.

“(Y/n)”

Could it be? (Y/n) slowly turned her head towards the direction of the voice, there he stood, Daemon, her prince, his hair was short and he was skinnier than the last time she saw him.

(Y/n) wiped away her tears but remained kneeled, has she lost her mind? Was she seeing just a vision or was he truly standing there? Her lip quivered as they both stood frozen, waiting for the other to do something.

“It’s me, my dearest”

He whispered to reassure her. Daemon sensed her pain, her questions, and how she was afraid to make a step, he knew it well, they were times he could have sworn he saw her on the battlefield or waiting for him on his bed, and others he could hear her praying.

(Y/n) In an instant rose and ran to him, she fell in his arms as she was engulfed by a plethora of emotions that drowned but one overtook all, relief.

“You are alive”

“I made a promise, I needed to bring you your pendant”

She laughed between her sobs as she wrapped her arms around him one more time, squeezing the life out of him but he did not mind, her hug was the closest thing Daemon had felt when it came to religion, she was his church.

“I missed you”

“We must go”

“What?”

“Get us out of here before I change my mind”

“What has gotten into you?”

“Do you want to question me now that I am agreeing to your plans?”

Daemon could not contain himself anymore, before (y/n) could comprehend or respond his lips had crashed into hers into a deep, passionate kiss, soon his arms wrapped around her waist to bring her as close as humanly possible, it was (y/n)s first kiss.

“Let us leave before the Hods strike us for sinning”

-

(Y/n) and Daemon chose to make their home in Pentos, a beautiful free city that (y/n) had dreamed of visiting, they had eloped the day they landed, (y/n) wore a simple gown and it was the first time Daemon saw her hair, her beautiful mane that framed her face perfectly, she was his for the rest of their life and hopefully the next, how could a woman so perfect love a sinner like him?

The raven Daemon send to king landing to announce the birth of their first child angered the faith to no end, the rogue prince had lured a Septa and turned her to lust and sin, and whispers grew about their children being cursed, that they were all deformed and that is why they did not dare to come back.

Daemon shielded his family from such vile words, (y/n) was gracious to bless him with 5 children, 4 girls, and one boy, all of them beautiful, kind, and happy, (y/n) and daemon made sure of that.

Daemon had gifted (y/n) with creating a Sept for her after she gave birth to their first daughter, Elara, she had deep grey eyes like a wolf and dirty blonde hair like the color of a golden sunset, when Daemon walked in to find (y/n) holding their daughter after laboring for a full day he cried, his wife, his love, she created life.

“Thank you”

“For what?”

“For everything”

Then came their son Aeron, who came rather quickly and without fuss, (y/n) only felt some discomfort during her evening nap and the maester had just stepped into the room when the babe was crowning, he had his mother's eyes and hair as white as snow.

Adira gave everyone a surprise, she was not alone, she was with her twin sister, Naeva, who was frail and so small in comparison to Adira who was chubby and red-cheeked, (y/n) refused to leave Naevas side, she would spend her nights in a rocking chair by her cradle.

And then came their last little girl, (y/n) would often reminisce about the day that her children burst into the room after the labor to peak at their new sibling, Aeron was the first to hold her, and the little boy was in utter awe of the new sister, he had leaned to place a peck on top of the babes head.

“Mother, I was hoping I could name her”

“What do you suggest sweetling?”

“Avyanna”

“It is a perfect name for a princess, don’t you think so my love?”

“Indeed, it’s settled then”

Avyanna was a spitting image of her mother, except for the dark lavender eyes, she had even inherited (y/n)s hair which made her stand out from her siblings, she had a few blonde streaks but you couldn’t see them if her hair was pulled up.

Daemon was proud of his family, he patted himself on the back for being able to rise to the occasion and prove himself worthy of (y/n)s love, he took great care of his lady wife, anything his family wished for they had their feet.

(y/n) worried that the children will grow spoiled, she taught them the importance of sharing and the great value of gratitude through her faith that she never forgot, often she was seen attending orphanages and anyone that knocked on their door for help.

“Alright now settle down, this ceremony is sacred and serious, you must be on your best behavior”

“We know Mother”

“My dear, you have told them about it a thousand times now”

“I’m sorry, I am just-”

“I know”

Daemon brought his wife closer by the waist to place a kiss on top of her covered hair, she was dressed in all black like everyone else but you could understand that this meant more to her than just a funeral, it was their first time back in Westeros, the Targaryens had never seen their children, her heart beat fast at the mere idea of her little ones getting insulted or ridiculed in any way.

All of them remained close to their mother and father, Daemon held Avyanna in his arms, and (y/n) frowned as she caressed her daughter's cheek, she wanted to hold her but she was still sore, the maester advised her to refrain from lifting anything.

Naturally, Daemon led (y/n) to their chamber the minute the eulogy ended, he did not care about mingling or anything that had to do with people that turned their noses up on (y/n) and their children.

“You must rest”

“I feel fine”

“And you will feel even better if you lay down”

(Y/n) knew better than to chastise her husband on this matter, Daemon was an overprotective man especially when it came to her and her health, they had already had a fright he was not willing to take any chances.

“The strangers visit is the one I fear the most amongst the Gods, he sparred me once, now twice”

“And thrice if needed, I will not let them take you”

“It is not up to us to decide”

“It is up to us to be careful, you gave our family 5 perfect children that need their mother, we are in no need of another”

“If the mother gave us 5 why did she take this one? And the one before that, mayhaps-”

“(Y/n)”

“It is not pleasant I know but I constantly feel cursed”

“You are not cursed nor our children, let us not speak on this again, please”

(Y/n) did not verbally respond, she chose the route of getting up from their bed and reaching for Daemon to hug him, Daemon trembled at the thought of losing her, seeing her in insufferable pain and grief while blood stained the sheets was horrid, he could not imagine what (y/n) went through, of course, he wanted a big family but it was not worth the price of (y/n)s life, none of it would be worth it without her.

The vulnerable scene between husband and wife was interrupted by a knock on the door, Elara was white as a ghost and her hands were shaking, (y/n) feared for the worst at the sight of their distraught daughter.

“What is it dear?”

“Aeron claimed a dragon but he got into a fight”

“Gods have mercy, show me”

(Y/n) prayed as she walked to wherever her eldest daughter led them, she spotted Aeron from a mile away, her son sat in a chair next to another young boy who was getting his wounds tended by a master.

“Oh, my love, my sweet little boy, what happened?”

“I am fine mother, I’m unharmed”

“Gods be good”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around her son as tight as possible, Aeron was aware of his mother's fear of him and his siblings getting in harm's way, but he did not fuss over how tight she was hugging him quite the contrary after such an event he relished the familiar loving embrace of his mother.

“Yes the boy is safe but my son has lost an eye”

“I do not follow”

“Your son claimed a dragon while Aemond claimed Vhagar, your daughter and son were present when my son was attacked”

“Stole Vhagar”

“You cannot steal a dragon, little girl”

“Elara! Be respectful”

(Y/n) scolded her daughter who hunched over at her seat, (y/n) did not raise her voice often so when she did her children did not take it well.

“Queen Alicent, I trust my children allow me to ask them for the truth”

“Aemond, Elara, and I were wondering when we saw Vhagar, I pushed Elara to stay back and Aemond did not follow, he claimed Vhagar like Elara claimed Silverwing, when Aemond flew that’s when Vermithor came, I figured that if Silverwing came for Elara then Vermithor might be here for me, Elara and I flew with our dragons when we landed the only thing we saw was”

“Was what?”

“Prince Lucerys attacked Prince Aemond, he had a knife”

Elara finished her brothers' sentence, Elara was always brave and stoic, whilst Aeron was noble and level-headed.

(Y/n) hesitated, her children wouldn’t lie to her, if it happened as they say then it means her children could not have possibly interfered with the squabble nor saved Prince Aemond.

Daemon walked to his wife’s side and pancaked his arm around her shoulders for comfort, he could sense that (y/n) feared what to say, she did not want to upset nor make matters worst in front of the king and queen.

“My children are not responsible for the injury of Prince Aemond although it still is a grim affair”

“Grim affair? My son has been maimed”

“While Aeron was in the sky with his sister”

“They could have-“

“They could have what? My children are not fortune tellers nor do they have the eyes of a hawk to see what is happening on the ground”

Daemon defended his son and took a few steps towards Queen Alicent, (y/n) went back to her son to hold his hand in support of him, Elara got up from her seat to go over to the other side of her mother and hold her other hand.

Rhaenyra stood by her son's side as she watched Daemon defend his family, 10 years passed and he was a different person, now he had 5 children and a personality that Rhaenyra could not recognize, how he stood up for his son, how endearing he had been with his wife, how he completely ignored and avoided her, the Dragon had circled (y/n) and their two children, willing to do anything and go against anyone to keep them safe.

“This is a matter between you, my family had no part in this”

“They encouraged Aemond to go to Vhagar”

“They did no such thing, my children were playing and Aeron protected his sister, you can spew lies as much as you wish Alicent but I know the truth”

“Which is?”

“That my son claimed the dragon of a previous king and that is a matter for us to celebrate, you can kill each other for all I care, my wife and I will escort our children to their chambers and tomorrow my son will mount his dragon back home”

Alicent refrained from responding, even a Hightower knew that there was a line that she mustn’t cross when it came to Targaryens, Aeron had a dragon now, Vermithor flew just to find him, Daemon puffed out his chest before he also went back to join his family, with his one hand he guided his son to stand up on his feet and patted him on the shoulder.

“This is a blessing, my only son has a dragon like my eldest daughter, I will not let anyone taint this day for you”

“Thank you father”

“Queen Alicent, the Hightowers have always been a family that followed the guidance of the seven, the father is a just God, seek for his voice and find it in your heart to understand that our children are not responsible”

“Or don’t, the father will not be here to help you once you attempt to point your finger to my son”

Daemon hissed at Alicent, “how did these two even came together?” The queen thought, however it was as clear as day that she was stepping to dangerous territory, (y/n) was a pious person but even she could not save Alicent from Daemons aggressive nature, she could only offer a small way out before the inevitable happened.

Requests are open!

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Save a Horse, Ride a (Space) Cowboy

tom ryder x reader 2.2k words

summary: Tom in his space cowboy outfit really does something to you. Something that makes you forget about everything else.

tw! almost smut. really basically smut.

(THE PICTURE HAS BEEN UPGRADED YESSSS!!!!! thank you all for bearing with me <3)

masterlist

It's hot. It's unbearably fucking hot. You're sweaty, your shirt is sticking to your back, your sun hat seems to have no effect at all anymore and that Tom is running around right in front of your face in that gods damned space cowboy outfit is not helping at fucking all to cool you down.

Fucking hell.

It's genuinely not funny anymore.

Tom himself had you rubbing your thighs together more than often enough, but with that fucking cowboy hat on too now? Holy shit.

The only good thing about the desert heat is that you can blame the sweaty stickiness you're feeling on the temperature, the sun and the sand. Maybe not how you've soaked through your underwear, but... It's a start, at least. It's probably why Tom hasn't subjected you to one of his scrutinising stares yet - one of those with raised eyebrows and his whole attention focused on you.

You're restless because of the sand. Sweaty because of the sun. Avoiding his gaze because you're so uncomfortable in this blazing hot weather.

...Yeah.

"One more take and we're done", Jody shouts. You can hardly bite back a groan. Wonderful. One more time you'll have to watch Tom run around in that fucking outfit. At this point, it's close to torture. A part of you wants to just dash back to the trailer and take a very, very, very cold shower.

But you can't, this is your job, so you close your lips around the straw sticking out of your water bottle and watch. Watch Tom in that goddamn cowboy hat save his alien princess.

"You're drooling", Venti whispers, startling you so badly you flinch away from her. God, she has a fucking talent for appearing in places she shouldn't be.

"Fuck off", you mutter, your eyes clinging right back to Tom as he wraps his arms around his co-star. Oh, you'd very much like to switch places with her right now - even in this boiling desert hell.

"You know, technically, he's your boss", Venti goes on, entirely undeterred by your not-so workplace friendly language.

"Technically, he's my boyfriend", you bite right back at her, trying hard not to get weak in the knees as the camera zooms in closely on Tom's face, all big eyes and chiseled features appearing on the display next to you. He's fucking marvellous, goddamn him.

You still don't know just how he's your boyfriend. Venti's right - technically, he's your boss. You'd applied as his assistant one day and now here you are, dating the most famous action star of the moment. And he really does have it all: the face, the fame, the green. You're not quite sure he's even real, to be completely honest. A tiny part of you is constantly dreading that when you open your eyes in the morning, it'll turn out he's nothing but a fever dream after all. Or a hallucination. Maybe you're crazy.

"Alright, we got it!", Jody shouts, pulls you from your thoughts - from the way you'd been ogling him - and drags you back to reality. You hadn't even realised you'd started chewing on your lip. "Great shot, really, well done, we're gonna take a break before we shoot the next scene!"

The word break echoes in your mind like a fucking hallelujah. With a start, you rush towards Tom, almost stumbling over your own two feet as you grab his water bottle and hold it out for him.

"Here", you breathe, hoping, praying you don't look as debauched as you feel. Then again, you've sweated through the few layers you're wearing, so you probably do.

"Thanks, love", he smiles, reaches for the bottle and takes a sip. Then he looks you down. And up. And down. And up again. And your hoping, your praying crumbles right down to nothing, because he gives you that very stare you'd been dreading, the one that shoots like x-rays through your body and lays you bare for him. "You feeling good? You look hot."

Fuck, you are hot. Just not because of the blaring sun.

"I'm fine", you lie, even though you can feel your cheeks warm further. Just watching him close up on a screen is already enough to get you wet, but to have him this close up? That's even worse. "Just the temperature, I guess."

You shrug for good measure, but he still doesn't seem all that convinced. He eyes you once more, trailing his gaze down your body, then up again. It's hard to keep upright at this point. God, that outfit he's wearing really does something to you.

"Do you want to eat?", you blurt out, anything to get him to stop scrutinizing you. And to actually do your job. "I could get something from the buffet, take it to the trailer or-"

"I could eat", he interrupts, the corners of his lips tugging up. His sudden grin distracts you. Mindlessly, you nod along.

"Sure, I'll find something you like", you mutter, ready to turn and plunder the buffet table when his hand closes around your arm. Your heels all but dig into the sand below. He really has too much of an effect on you. You could easily slip out of his grip if you wanted, and yet you're frozen in place.

"You know what I'd like right now, baby?", he asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he takes a step closer. Fuck, he's so handsome. "You."

Barely three minutes later, he's got you pressed against the inside of the trailer door, cold metal against scorching skin as you try to catch your breath. You're panting, cheeks surely flashing red, and you'd like to blame that on the sun, on the sand, on the desert - but it's him, it's him, only him. It's him and that goddamn space cowboy outfit they'd put him in.

"Tom", you breathe, your fingers cramped around the collar of his shirt, clenched so tightly that your knuckles have turned white. He's real, he must be. You just can't quite figure out how.

"You good?", he asks, his voice deeper and a little breathy around the edges.

"No", you chuckle truthfully, your fingertips dipping beneath his collar and brushing over his skin instead. Your eyes drag right after them, drinking in the bit of bare chest his costume exposes. And that fucking golden necklace, just dangling from his neck like it's not driving you fucking insane.

"Still because of the heat, baby?", he asks, grinning widely when your eyes flicker back up at his face. His tone borders on mocking. Goddamn.

You should have known.

You should have known that he knows.

Because of course he knows. Of course he'd realised that you'd been fidgety and hot and bothered for entirely different reasons than the rest of the crew. Not because of the sun and sand and desert, but because of him. Because of him and that outfit.

"No", you admit quietly, your eyes dropping back down to his necklace as your fingers work open the first buckle of his vest. There's no way you could possibly lie to him when he's got you this close. "Not because of the heat."

It's honestly a miracle that you can even talk while you're undoing his clothes.

"Oh?", he asks, his hands tightening on your waist as you open his vest and rest your palms against his button-up for just a moment. "Because of what, then?"

You bite down on your lip to keep your grin at bay, even as his thumbs sneak below the hem of your shirt. His fingers graze your skin and, as if he hadn't already done enough to you, shoot sparks right down to your core.

"You", you mutter truthfully, drag your palms up to his collar again and begin loosening the buttons of his shirt. You want your hands on him. You want to finally touch him. You're basically melting for him, melting into him, and you want to get that shirt open now. "And this fucking costume. Space cowboy, who had that idea, anyway?"

Tom chuckles at your sudden honesty.

"Jody", he says, all matter-of-factly as you scoff at him and pop open one button after the other. By now, you can feel yourself dripping down your thighs. You're not sure whether it's sweat or not - you're just sure that you need to touch him and him to touch you. Now. Or you'll end up a puddle on the floor.

"Fucking cheers to Jody", you mutter, tearing his shirt open, steadying your palms against his bare, so very, very bare skin and taking a deep, deep breath in. Fuck. He's gorgeous. Drop-dead fucking gorgeous. All abs and hard muscles, warm and sweaty against your fingertips, so enticing, so inviting. You run your hands up, then down his torso, slowly enough to take in every inch you can touch. You could do this for the rest of your life.

"Didn't think you'd be so into it, baby", he murmurs, his fingers dragging fully beneath your shirt now and trailing over your stomach. Usually, he's got you naked and begging within seconds - but he always does like it just a little too much when you marvel at him this openly. It's an ego boost he doesn't need.

"Fuck, I'm into you", you whisper, your eyes catching on his necklace again. O-fucking-kay. So it's definitely not just him. As if in reflex, your finger hooks into the chain dangling from his neck. God, you've been waiting to do that ever since you'd seen him in this damned outfit for the first time. "But the cowboy hat has its effect."

Tom grins and grabs at your waist, pushes you firmly against the door and fuck, he's hard, he's-

"Just the hat?", he asks as your finger tightens around his necklace, as you tug. Tug him right into you, tug him so close that you can feel his breath on your lips.

"No", you smile, your eyes fluttering shut. "Not just the hat."

And then you pull him in and kiss him.

He's pressed against you, his shirt open, his hands on your waist, and he's all but crowding you against the door. His beard scratches against your skin in such a heavenly way you can hardly keep from pushing back against him. He really shouldn't be such a good kisser, not when he's also that good-looking, that talented, that famous, and that rich. He's truly got it all. And you can't do anything but melt into his arms, melt against his body, melt... quite literally.

"Tom", you moan, barely above a breath as you pull at his necklace and drag your free hand down, down, down to his waistband. Your fingertips catch on the button of his pants. "Fuck me."

He's just pulling his arms away from your waist and grabbing for your thighs, grabbing to wrap your legs around him when there's a sharp knock at the trailer door. You startle so badly you flinch and so does he, stumbling further into the trailer, knocking against each other, tripping over each other, steadying yourselves in just the right moment before the door opens.

Gail.

Standing in the bright light of the sun, her sunglasses high on her nose, her expression nothing short of frantic, one hand on the doorknob and the other curled like she's trying to strangle the fucking air.

"Ryder", she seethes, then pauses and takes a deep breath. You're so shocked you can't do anything but stare at her like a deer caught in headlights. "Take off your fucking mic before you hook up with your girlfriend."

Tom scrambles to pull out the tiny, fuzzy microphone stuck to his vest. He holds it in his hands for one, two seconds, his eyes wide as he stares at it - then he chucks it at Gail, who doesn't even make a move to catch it before it lands on the ground.

Embarassment shoots through your veins, glues you into spot and if you hadn't been flushed, sweaty and trembling already, you surely would be now.

Holy fucking shit.

Tom had been wearing his mic.

He'd been wearing his fucking mic during all of this.

The entire fucking crew had listened in on you and him making out.

Gail turns around and lets the door fall shut, one deafening thump of metal against metal that tears you from your spiralling mind and hurls you straight back to reality.

"Tom", you gasp, balling your hand into a fist and hitting him right in the chest with it. "You didn't take off your fucking mic?"

He doesn't even have the decency to look apologetic as he shrugs. No, there's already a grin licking at his lips again, a grin that tells you he's neither embarrassed nor going to remember taking his mic off the next time.

"I had so much more important things to think about", he chuckles, wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close again.

He's still half-naked.

You feel your breath hitch.

"Tom", you mutter, your fist resting against his chest. He can't be fucking serious. He cannot be fucking serious. You're burning with embarrassment, petrified with shock - and he's already pulling you in again, his palms rubbing into your back. "You horny bastard."

He's already pressed his lips to yours before you can finish, and despite yourself, you have to grin.

"Promise you'll take your mic off next time", you mumble into him, then you're throwing your arms around his neck and pushing into him.

He's a lost cause. You know that. But it never hurts to try.

[issdisgrace]

Can you write something about overstimulating Fernando?

-Dionne

OVERSTIMULATION WITH FERNANDO

WARNINGS: Overstimulation, yeah that's it also sorry if this ain't top quality i'm literally falling asleep writing this

Ok so I think there’s two ways Fernando likes overstimulation.

So first and the most common use of it is as a punishment. You told him he couldn’t touch his cock for two weeks because he’s been bad but you come home one day to find him jerking off. So your like ok fine if you want to cum so bad, I let you cum. And you start jerking him off and when he eventually cums you don’t pay any minds to his pleas and continue to jerk him off. Ringing orgasm after orgasm until he’s shaking, until he’s sobbing, until he’s shooting blanks. He’s a mess, he’s a wreck, his brained is fried, he’s blabbering semi incoherent Spanish that you can just barely make out is a prayer. To who he’s praying to you have no clue but it’s hot. And a part of you wants to continue to ring him dry but you know when he’s had enough. And even though the main event of sort is finish doesn’t mean the show has ended. You still get to see how pretty he looks, ragged breathing trying to catch his breath, tears slowing revealing pink streaks down his face, cum all over his stomach, and his poor abused cock soft laying against his thigh. He looks truly amazing and it’s a sight you savor.

So the other application is as a prize. People may think how is this any different from the other one. This one is soft, light, and sweet while the other one is hard, rough, and brutal. Fernando loves overstimulation as a prize because it’s such a loving scene. Candles, rose petals, you know the whole 9 yards. It usually starts out with giving Fernando a massage or something to get him relaxed. You kiss up and down his body, worshiping like a god, treating him like he’s made of glass. He feels so dainty and special. Then you start sucking him off. It's slow and loving, and Fernando knows better than to complain about the speed. So he just sits back and focuses on just your movements, blocking everything else out. It's nice, it's peaceful. And even after he cums you don't let up, you just continue your pace until you've drawn 3 orgasms out of him. At that point Fernando is very needy and since this is his reward you allow him to dictate what happens next. He of course wants you to fuck him so you oblige him, gently opening him up with your fingers, drawing another orgasm out of him as you finger him. Then you start fucking him and he swears he is in heaven. You're fucking deep and slow, hitting all the right spots, jerking him of with your soft hands. Its overwhelming. The love radiating from every movement has Fernando cumming in no time. And like before you continue chasing your high causing Fernando to cum 3 more times before you've even finished. He looks so pretty fucked out, a smile on his face, as he floats in a state of serenity.