#p: what came before won't count anymore

[slushycoookie]

I Like Your Dress ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 2.7k

✩ Content: Logan goes crazy over your dress, Domino shows up (I miss her so bad), cream pie is mentioned A LOT, Wade breaks the 4th wall, P in V, Logan does NOT wrap it up this time, MINORS DNI!!

✩ A/N: Reader is the same reader as the one shot I wrote. You don't have to read that one, I don't go into much detail but if you guys want to read that one, read it here

Masterlist | Commissions

The fresh smell of food made Logan awake from his slumber.

Sleepily searching for you on your side of the bed, only to discover that you weren't there. Having a sudden burst of energy, Logan got out of bed to find you. He didn’t need to go far when sees you wiggling your hips at the stove, stirring a pot.

“Hey.”

You look behind you when hearing his voice, “Hi!”

Logan pulls you close as you greet him with good morning kisses. Well, afternoon after checking the time.

“How did you sleep? I let you sleep in a little bit, you were so tired from that mission last night.”

Logan smiles, “I slept alright.”

He sees the multitude of ingredients on the counter and remembers what they're were for. Wade was throwing a potluck since Domino was coming back from a month long mission. Of course, he invited you two and you were so excited. Logan was neutral. He would've preferred to stay in bed with you all day.

You said you were making a few things, but the amount of ingredients you had made him wonder. “How many people are you planning to feed?”

“Enough.” You said, going back to your pot, which he found out was pasta. “Colossus and Peter will be there. We both know how much they like to eat.”

“Don’t push yourself.” His tone was rough but you knew it was his way of caring.

“I won't.”

Logan grabbed himself an afternoon shot of bourbon before excusing himself to get ready. Trying to prepare himself for socializing and dealing with Wade.

When he came back clean and not as rugged, you were finishing up, putting white icing on the strawberry cake. Logan swiped his finger on the cake and licked it, cream cheese on his tongue.

“That’s good.”

“Don’t lick it anymore.” You lightly threaten, smacking his hand away. “Save it for the party.”

“Fine.” Logan kisses your cheek and stands behind you to watch you finish icing the cake. In your beautiful handwriting ‘Welcome back, Domino’ in pink icing. “Would ya look at that? You should be on those baking shows.”

“Nuh uh, I'm okay with just watching videos.”

Once you were finished, he helped you place the cake in the dome, ready to go with the rest of the food. You gave him an order to not eat any of it before you ran into the bathroom to get ready. Logan gave you about five minutes before inspecting the tins. He smiled when he saw you only made a few items, a large tray of pasta salad and spinach dip. Just to make sure it wasn't poisoned, he took a swipe of each, humming at how good it tasted.

He knew you were going to be a while so he opened a window, grabbed a cigar and lounged to smoke. Logan knew you didn't like it when he smoked in the apartment, but said it was okay as long as he let in some fresh air after.

As usual, you took almost a hour getting ready, but it was well worth the wait.

When you stepped out of the room, Logan started coughing, blowing smoke out the window to make sure a lot didn't linger. His eyes trailed your outfit, a tie dye colored maxi dress with thin straps, and cute, brown sandals to match. Logan didn't care when you scolded him for obviously taking a bite of your pasta salad. His breath was stolen away.

“I like your dress.”

“You're changing the subject, but thanks.”

He steps in front of you, eyes lowered as he kept gazing at your form. The dress hugging your body while still being appropriate. Logan's hand rests on your ass cheek, giving it a firm squeeze.

“I really like your dress.”

You avoid his lustful gaze, “Don’t you start.”

“Start what?” He steals a kiss from you, careful not to mess up your lipstick. “I can't compliment my lady?”

“You can compliment me by using your words.”

“It's not as fun that way.” He dips his head between your neck to smell you. You weren't wearing any perfume this time, but the honey scent from your lotion was enough to complete the entire package. Logan growls, squeezing your ass some more and making you giggle.

“We should go, I don't wanna be late.”

“We won't. I swear.” His hand cups the nape of your neck, putting it back so he could kiss you some more. Parting your lips to dive his tongue right in. Your moans spurring him on.

It didn't last long though.

“Logan.” You gently push him away, “We will have some time later.”

He sucked his teeth before grabbing all of the food you made.

Logan remained a scowling mess when you two arrived for the potluck.

You were the more social one out of the relationship, so you immediately flocked to the crowd who welcomed you with open arms. Even Domino, despite that this was the first time you two saw each other. Logan makes his usual rounds of saying hi before picking a corner with a drink in his hand and observing.

It was his way of enjoying himself without being easily annoyed and overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in the apartment. Best of all, he could watch you socialize. Your face lighting up at the conversations while that gorgeous dress clung to your body. Logan always likes to admire you in your element, but you wearing that dress was more than enough to make him want to do things to you. His hands involuntary flexed at the idea of feeling your body through the dress.

“There’s my grumpy kitty!” Domino says to Logan, who scowled at her, but there was no malice behind it.

“Hey, Dom.”

“Wade told me that your hair was getting better and now I see why.” She motions to you talking to Peter about him getting highlights. Logan's lips curl upwards again at the sight of you. “She's cute.”

“Thanks. I heard she scheduled you an appointment?”

Domino nods, “Gonna try something new. This is getting stale.” She motions to her afro.

“Don’t you dare change it.” Wade joins in, pointing at her. “You know how I feel about change.”

“Aww.” Domino pinches his cheek, “We all gotta grow up sometime.”

“You know who you're talking to right?” Logan comments under his drink.

“Your afro was one of the reasons you were so likeable in the second movie. Now what do we have, a woman with luck powers? I still don't believe that's a thing, by the way.”

Domino shakes her head at the audacity of it all, “I missed you too.”

She excuses herself, leaving Logan and Wade together. The latter started getting a little giddy, cradling his cup, while shooting multiple glances. Logan promised you that he was going to play nice during the party and not get easily annoyed at Wade.

“What?”

“We’re having cream pie.” Wade mentions, “Do you wanna know what flavor it is?”

Logan holds back an eyeroll, “Sure.”

“It's boston cream pie. I know we have a lot of sweet things considering we also have the cake your lady made, but I really wanted some. Actually, it's been a while since you've had cream pie, right?”

“I guess.”

“Oh you'll enjoy this one. You have a bit of a sweet tooth.” There was a moment of silence between them as they watched everyone enjoy themselves. You were getting many compliments on your food, asking for the recipes to make at home. “ Vanessa and I are huge fans of cream pie. Does your lovely lady like it too?”

Logan glared at him for a second before thinking about the question, “I think so.”

“Has she had it in a while?”

“No.”

“I think she'll be very happy when she gets some-”

“Why…in the fuck do you keep talking about the damn cream pie?” He feels a slight headache coming on.

Wade shrugs before taking a sip of his drink. “I can't like pie?”

Logan growls, ready to toss him out the apartment when you inadvertently save Wade, walking over with a huge smile on your face.

“Hi.”

“Hey, sugar.”

You embrace him with arms around his neck. Your lips kissing his cheek, taking in the aftershave.

“Hi Wade.”

“Hi. Your grumpy boyfriend and I were just talking about cream pie. Do you know we're having pie later?”

Logan felt his eye twitch at the question, his hand on your hip to keep himself from punching Wade.

“No, I didn’t!” Your eyes light up, “What kind of pie?”

“Boston cream. One of the best pies in the world, I should say.”

“Ooh, you know what, I haven’t had cream pie in a long time.”

“Oh really?” Wade tilts his head a little, while you nod. “Well, obviously you gotta have some. I think you'll enjoy it. The author knows what I'm talking about.”

And just like that, he's gone.

Logan didn't want to acknowledge whatever that was so he pulls you amongst his body. The most handy you'll ever allow him to be in public.

“We should go.” He whispers in your ear.

“Hm? We've only been here for two hours.”

That was enough, he wanted to say. Everytime he focuses on you and that dress, he wants to forget behaving and take you back home to lavish on you all night. For those two hours, Logan was trying to keep his thoughts pure enough to get a raging hard on. He didn't know how long he could last.

“Just hang in there a bit longer, okay?” You give him a kiss for encouragement. Logan takes in the imprint of your lips as you go back to socialize. No, he wasn't going to make it.

He hangs on when everyone sits around the table, laughing and talking. You're beside him, hand on his thigh to stabilize him and keep him in the conversation. Logan wants you to go higher, feel the impending hard on.

He needs to get you alone, show you that he was failing at behaving. There weren't a lot of places where you two wouldn't be disturbed. And he didn't want to take you outside and fuck you in an alleyway.

But God answered him.

You excused yourself, making your way to the bathroom. Logan watches you go as everyone continues talking. He gives it a minute before getting up and pretending to grab another drink. Instead, he beelines to the bathroom, standing beside the door and waits. His heartbeat in his chest.

“Who wants some cream pie?” Wade asks, everyone roaring with excitement once you finally open the door.

Logan pushes you back into the bathroom, lips immediately on yours. Your surprised gasp eggs him on while he traps your body against the wall.

“This is all your fault.” He mutters, constantly stealing kisses.

“Huh? What?” You try to keep up with him as his hands are all over your body, feeling your soft curves through the dress.

“You know what. Wearing this dress, not letting me do something to you before we came here. Torturing me.”

As he spoke, his lips were everywhere. Your face and neck. Trying to wear you down and submit.

“Torturing you? That, that wasn't my intention-oh.” His teeth latched on to your shoulder, having some self control to mark you in a place no one could see.

“I need you.” Logan starts bunching up your dress.

You try to stop him by pushing his hands down, “L-Logan? Logan, baby you didn't lock the door.”

“It's gonna be quick.” You let him bunch up your dress, seeing a glimpse of your panties, which he now sees that it's the lacey blue ones he liked. The ones you mentioned reminded you of the accent colors of his suit.

Logan's jeans were getting tight when he removed them, stuffing them in his pocket. Without saying a word, you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. You whimpered under his lips as he was finally able to touch you while wearing the dress. Large hands molding your breasts through the fabric, still managing to locate the nipple and pinching it. His hips rolling against you, creating a nice friction against your cunt.

You were doing so good at keeping quiet for him, only managing the occasional whimper when he hit a perfect spot. Making sure you were stable on his arm, Logan reaches down to your core. His chest rumbles when he feels how wet you're getting. Sinking one digit inside while his thumb presses on your clit. Making circular motions while he was getting you ready.

“Didn’t need to do much, huh?” He said, watching you twist and turn. “You wanted this as much as I did.”

You didn't say anything but he smelled you. His finger coated in your delectable arousal. If you two weren't on a time limit, he'd reach down to get a taste.

Once you were ready, Logan maneuvers to unzip his pants. Even though you were dazed out of your mind, you remember something.

“I left my purse out there.” Your purse had condoms and knowing Logan, he didn't bring them as you insisted on being prepared in case something like this happens. But now both of you were unprepared.

“I'll get ya plan b at the store.” He continues to unzip his jeans.

“Don’t forget…”

Logan pulls his cock out with one motion, using some of your wetness for lubrication. “I won't.”

He then slips into you. You clutch on to him for dear life, your nails digging into his shirt. Curse his healing factor. He wanted to see the marks you'd leave on him.

He keeps you stable against the wall, sinking into you completely before starting to move. Quick and sharp thrusts in and out of you. Low, wet sounds filling his ears besides your shaky sobs.

“O-Oh god…”

Logan rolls his eyes back at your desperate tone, “God's not here, honey.”

His own voice comes out strained as he's fucking you. How he wants to pull your dress up further to see your breasts move. But having you like this was much hotter. Wanting you to remember that this was the dress that made him go crazy.

“Mmh Lo’…” He almost comes right there when your hand grips the nape of his neck, pulling the hairs.

Logan grunts, picking up speed, feeling some of his cum leaking out into you. His tip pressing against your cervix that was making you croon. Goosebumps forming on your skin as he hit that spot repeatedly. Making you whine and wince under him.

“Squeeze around me, sweetheart.” He commands and you do so. Your walls molding around his cock as you silently cried out. Even at the height of your pleasure, you still managed to be quiet, mouth agape and he wanted to shut those lips with his own. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Logan wasn't far behind, pounding into you mercilessly before shooting his cum inside you. He stilled for a moment then pumped into you a few times to make sure all of his load made it inside. You capture him in another kiss, both of you sighing against each other.

Laughter nearby caused you two to come down from the high. Logan put you down, handing you your panties. He grabbed a few paper towels to make sure no cum stained his jeans. You were checking yourself out in the mirror, making sure Logan didn't mess up your makeup. He did ended up getting some on his face, which had you quickly trying to wipe it away with your thumb.

“I'm good, I'm good.” Logan reassures you before fixing his shirt. “I'll go out first.”

“Okay.” Before parting, he gave you another kiss, completely not caring if lipstick stained his lips.

The party continued as if the two of you weren't missing for the last fifteen minutes. Logan played it cool by grabbing another drink. When you came out the bathroom, you two momentarily locked eyes, before acting like nothing happened.

“Did you enjoy the cream pie?”

Logan jumps at Wade's sudden appearance, “What the fuck? How did you know that I-?”

“The pie's right there.” Wade points to the cut up pie on the kitchen counter. Logan stares at it, a bit dumbfounded. “It's good right?”

Logan's eyes land on you as you're speaking to Domino once more, “Yeah. It was good.”

Tags: @allmyn1ghts

[strawberryblue-blog]

The way I look at you

—Jude Bellingham.

summary: Being Jude's Spanish teacher and having a secret relationship with him makes you feel insecure after a situation.

warnings: yes. +18. friends to lovers, smut, explicit content, unprotected sex, p in v, discomfort, angst, etc.

words count: +2.9k

The chill of the night hit your body as you stepped out onto the balcony of the hotel dining room as you felt suffocated by so many people around you. You sighed as the nerves prickled in your belly and you pushed the ideas out of your head. It was the end of the year party that the Real Madrid team gave for their players and so on, it consisted of a thank you and toast with the delivery of some awards to the players and that. It was your first time here and it was also the first time in your life that you felt so insignificant.

The people in there were nothing like you, well yes there were some worthwhile ones but most of them were rich and important people compared to you. With high ranks in their positions, famous, exemplary and recognized and of course, the players of the team with their families.

Being Jude Bellingham's Spanish teacher and agreeing to come here as his "casual date" had been a disaster. Especially since he had been introducing you to everyone as his "friend", only his good friend. You don't even know why you had agreed to come tonight in the first place, it was obvious that you and Jude were not in a serious relationship and you were just friends. You felt disappointed and confused.

"Y/n?" he asked peeking out the door as he saw you with your back turned.

You turn your body to see Jude walk out and close the door as behind the doors people chatted, laughed and toasted.

"What are you doing here?" he insisted at your half smile. "Here" he took off his jacket and rested it on your shoulders.

"Thank you" you murmured slowly with kindness.

"Everything okay?" his hand slyly caressed your waist. You nodded barely smiling slightly at him.

"I just needed air" you tilted your head and hugged your body.

His gaze quickly darts inward and you assume he's checking to make sure no one is watching and when he sees no one is paying attention, he moves towards you and kisses your forehead softly as he hugs your shoulders.

Your belly flutters as you feel his warmth on you but the urge to cry threatens. You hate not being able to hold his hand in public, hug him or kiss him. You hate having to say that you're friends, that you're just his Spanish teacher and that you have nothing more than a good, professional relationship.

You don't want to worry him but the urge to go home doesn't leave you alone. You know that if you leave now he will want to come with you and you don't want to leave him without telling him either but you don't feel part of this place anymore.

"I think I'll go home" you mutter somewhat exhausted.

Jude looks at you, pulling away a little. He nods, patting your arms.

"Okay, let's go" he says taking your hand to guide you. But you stop him before he can move forward.

You don't want him to leave because of you. It's barely past midnight and you feel a little guilty that he's leaving so early, even though he doesn't really like parties, this is his chance to get to know his classmates better.

"You don't have to come, I can take a cab" you tell him kindly.

Jude declines.

"I came with you, I'm going with you" he mutters amused.

You nod with nothing else to do. You know it's not easy to convince Jude and he won't let you go home alone. You accompany him to greet his classmates and elders, staying by his side while they finish talking.

"It's been a pleasure, sweetheart" says Maca, Lucas Vazquez's wife. The other girlfriends and wives greet you animatedly as you say goodbye to them.

When you both finish saying goodbye and greeting, you walk to the parking lot in complete silence. The ride home is silent, Jude even tries to ask you questions but you just answer with the necessary.

When you arrive home, Jude accompanies you to the door but this time you walk hand in hand, together and quietly. Your heart aches but you don't want to ask, you don't want to sound distant or ruin whatever it is you have. Though doubts begin to fill your head, tonight Jude has proven that you two have nothing serious and maybe it was only you who saw it differently. Maybe you thought you two could become something and you weren't.

As you pass the key in your door, Jude stands behind you and you turn to see him.

"See you tomorrow, Jude" you greet with a smile, taking off his jacket to give it back to him.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asks teasingly with a chuckle.

You deny with a smile.

"Then let me in" he points out and you scurry to let him pass quickly apologizing for your distraction.

He was so beautiful. His gaze stays glued to yours and your heart expands in your chest. His expensive black suit is delicately pressed, the white shirt is marked on his body so strongly. How could he be so handsome and gentlemanly like that?

His fingers caress your once arms up your cool skin. His face comes close to yours and before he kisses you, you take his hand and walk inside the house. You can tell he's surprised and probably confused, you haven't let him touch you since you got back but you honestly don't know what you want. Or what's right.

You take off your shoes and Jude sheds his walk a little following you around the house as you arrange things.

"There's something wrong" he mutters when you stop in the kitchen. His hands rest on his waist and he looks at you curiously.

"What are you talking about?" you ask pretending to be oblivious.

You set the glass of water down on the sink after drinking and offer him something but he declines.

"You look weird" he says as you walk back to your room to change. "Like you're upset or angry" he insists behind you.

"Nothing like that, Jude" you deny walking towards the bathroom in your room.

You remove your makeup with a damp towel and wash your face, finally combing your hair. Jude snorts sitting on the end of the bed as he continues to watch your every move. When you return to the bed, Jude is still there, waiting for you. You walk over to him and position yourself between his legs, cupping his face. He wraps his hands around your hips and pulls you closer to him as you gently kiss his lips in a simple, warm touch.

His large hands slide down your back until they reach the zipper of your evening gown, his fingers grope the area and he begins to unfasten the garment. His lips have never left yours as his hands take care of pulling down your straps and the bluish colored piece that covered your body, disappears from his vision and is left lying adorning the floor.

You cannot refuse, you are bewitched under his control. Jude is delicate and careful with you that makes your heart wallow with love. You can't be angry with him, you can't reproach him for anything, you can't help but feel special when his hands touch you, his eyes see you or his lips are on yours.

Your hands cradle his face as they pull away from his kiss, Jude's chest is heaving and yours is heaving with happiness, his smile is marked when he sees you in front of him, naked and ready for him.

"Tell me what it is, please" he murmurs as his eyes look deep into yours.

"It's nothing, Jude, don't worry" you say again with a small smile and he denies.

His face moves to your chest and he leaves a chaste kiss between the hollow of your breasts, starting to move over one of them and down to your belly. His hands outline your waists gently as his lips continue to place small kisses on your skin, making you gasp and try to hide them.

"You don't have to lie, I know you, Y/n" he insists against your skin, making you bristle.

You sigh in surrender. He really does know you and he knows something is wrong, despite your lazy effort to hide it.

"I felt overwhelmed, that's all" you barely say and he looks back at you with his eyes waiting for you to keep talking.

You don't want to keep talking, somehow you're a little embarrassed to admit that maybe you were your ideas and what you two had was casual or he really saw you as a friend.

The look in his eyes was still confused and his expression on his face invited you to keep talking.

"Lying about us... it makes me feel insecure like we're really nothing and.... I can't stand it" you shut up right away noticing how you exploded.

It sounded like complaining and you didn't want to reproach him. And maybe you're asking for too much but you don't want to keep feeling this.

You're in love with him, from the first moment you two met. It was two years ago when Jude had just arrived in Madrid. You became his Spanish teacher after your friend got you the job through an acquaintance, you started giving him classes, teaching him the basics and everything he would need.

Jude was a good student, he was smart, quick and patient but most of all he was a good man. Attentive, caring and brilliant, how could you not fall in love with him? And yes, you understood that you had at first only a professional relationship, after a while you had become good friends but now it was different.

You started to understand each other, to share moments together, to go out, to stay at home after classes and things like that. You got used to each other and he was the first one to ask you on a date, a romantic date where he kissed you and you started dating.

You knew you couldn't make it official, Jude was very well liked by the fans and a romantic relationship was the last thing they expected from him, either for publicity or for his performance on the field. So you decided to keep it private. Or at least whatever you guys had, it only went from the door in. You were going slow and testing but you were still his teacher and you still had to do your job, so you used to see each other from time to time.

You had never talked about it but you were fine. You started seeing each other more often, you went out to eat, he stayed at your house, you kissed, you spent the nights together, you did the typical couple things without having a title and it didn't bother you. Until today.

Tonight you were hoping that he would be able to recognize what you had and introduce you to everyone as more than just his friend and teacher. That wasn't the case though and so you were somewhat disappointed. Not with him, not with you, but with the situation. And with yourself.

"But it's okay" you say again trying to downplay it.

You didn't want to aggravate him now with all this reproach It wasn't even his fault, it was his decision and maybe you expected something else.

"No, it's not" his hands help you sit on his lap. "I should have asked you what you wanted, I just assumed we were fine like this but clearly we're not" he says concerned.

"It's nothing, Jude" you deny with a smile. "It's just stupid stuff from me, it's not your fault" you pat his arm.

His eyes look up at you shining and you smile at him reassuringly. Jude shakes his head and takes your face.

"I don't want you to think that, you're important to me, you know that?" he questions and you nod in relief. "You're my girl" he mumbles something and of course.

You laugh caressing his skin as he smiles towards you.

"You think they don't know, Y/n?" he asks laughing flirtatiously with his amused expression. "No one takes a woman as beautiful as you to one of those dinners just because she's your friend, do you think?"

Now his hands run down your body again and down to your back to grab you and turn you over your weight. With a squeal, you remain underneath his muscular body and you smile as you watch him lick his lips.

"They know very well that friends don't look at each other like that..." his eyes roam over your face admiring it in detail.

"Not the way I look at you" he continues to whisper as his hand runs down your leg, past your thigh and belly but his eyes never fail to meet yours.

It is an extraordinary connection, the way he makes your world spin, the way your heart pounds as you listen to him, the way his gaze penetrates yours with such dedication, admiration and praise. The stars can be seen in the deep, dark sea of his eyes and you are sure they reflect yours as well. He is really seeing you, not just looking at you, he is observing you, analyzing you, studying you, contemplating you.

At this moment you feel bad for having doubted Jude at first, it's obvious you were just overreacting but you can't help it when he's by your side. He is a gorgeous, polite and confident man. You are in love with every part of him and you were afraid you were the only one in the relationship.

With every touch from Jude, your skin would crawl, your heart would race and your chest would burn with excitement. Jude was the only person who had ever made you feel this special, made you feel full of joy and freedom. He was the one person you wanted by your side, that you wanted to kiss and love.

"You are the most precious thing I have" he says coming closer to your face. A smile appears on your lips and you hold his face warmly.

"And you are mine, Jude" you whisper sincerely.

Without another word, his lips impacted with yours and this time, there was no gentleness in his kiss. It was solid, hard and wild. Like a desperate, needy, longing kiss. His body was perfectly positioned between your legs and his hands began to spread over your body, caressing every bare corner of your skin.

His clothes were a problem just now and quickly your hands found the buttons of the lucid white shirt and began to detach one by one as you continued to eat your mouth. Literally. It didn't take long for him to detach your bra and throw it somewhere in the room with his shirt. Your hands contoured every hard muscle of his back and chest, tracing lines on his skin, on his juicy and soft skin.

Your tongues battled together, caressing each other as your hands couldn't reach out to touch each other where they could, feeling your fingers burn across his skin. You don't know how long you spent kissing but you know it was enough to make you both hot, needy. Your crotch ached and your erect nipples begged to be licked, caressed by his tongue with every movement, you wanted Jude in every way possible.

The grown bulge rubbed against your lower belly as you tried to unbutton his dress pants but your fingers trembled with pleasure as his kisses drifted to your breasts, kissing them in greeting and then taking one with his mouth, kissing it. Your hands held his back as his gasps echoed on your sensitive skin, you wanted him to touch you. And Jude knew it, his strong hands spread your thighs beneath him and his fingers slipped into your crotch, moving closer to your center, where he began to knead over the fabric and at the same moment his mouth bit one of your nipples, making you squeal. Your back arched and the tips of your toes compressed as you cried out his name.

"Fuck, Jude" you moaned sobbing.

He did it again, this time stroking your wet lips, up and down, helping you to spill your own juices over your center. He caressed your clit with his fingertip, while his lips continued to maul your erect and pink nipples. Your fingers had become anchored in the sheets, crinkling them as you sought to hold back from something as the waves of pleasure lapped at your body. When he groped your hot spot, a moan escaped your lips and you bit your tongue silencing yourself as his fingers made room in your hole. Wet, hot, tight. Again you pressed him against you again, needing his touch as his fingers began to pump inside you, in a torturous, overwhelming thrust in and out.

You were so sensitive, that at any moment you would come and even though you needed it, you wanted to end up with his cock inside you. With your hand you stop him and Jude quickly understands, pulling away from you to sensually pull your panties down your legs. A smile appears on his lips as you are completely at his mercy, your legs spread wide, your wetness dripping and your heart leaping.

He stood up a little to remove the last of his clothes that were also left on him and positioned himself between your legs again. Your fingers dug into his back as his crotch brushed against yours, seeking some relief from so much need but you both knew you didn't need just that.

His palms covered your breasts, which fit perfectly into them and he squeezed them hard making you squeal, streams of pleasure hit your wetness and you could feel how much of a client you were down there.

You wanted to feel him inside.

With a single thrust, you climbed over his body, sitting on his hard belly. His muscles tensed and he watched you from below, you on his body, hot and ready to take him. He bit his lips as your hands caressed his bulge, gripping it and squeezing it a little. A choked gasp came from Jude's mouth as you continued to move your hand over his swollen crotch.

After helping him remove his underwear, you went back to sitting on his lap as he straightened up to sit with you. You cupped his delicate face, kissing his lips patiently and softly. His full lips were your undoing, you would never tire of kissing those luscious lips as delicious as Jude's.

His hands roamed up and down your back as you took his member and positioned it at your entrance, playing a little at your center with the warm wetness of your pussy. Slowly you began to lower yourself down onto your cock, sinking down as you both had in unison as you felt yourselves fill. Your walls tightened around it as you began to move slowly over it, up and down to, smooth and deep, taking all the time to feel it deep inside you.

"Too wet and tight, baby" he moaned as he went all the way inside you.

He grunted holding his breath as you moved slowly and consistently. This was heaven itself, the way you guys fit together perfectly. How his cock slid inside you rhythmically, how his fingers held your body and his eyes kept seeing you.

Your hands cradling his cheeks as your gazes were connected as if you needed each other, talked to each other, loved each other. It was so intimate and exciting. Your hips kept moving with the help of his hands that had dug into your skin, that there would probably be marks tomorrow but you didn't care. It was proof of his love.

You didn't want to stop seeing his black eyes, shining in front of yours but you needed to kiss him. Your lips take his and it's a soft, romantic touch. His hands continue to control your movements on his cock, as you move over him. Up and down, side to side, in circles and in reverse.

The atmosphere feels tense, sticky, hot. His sweaty body, his stifling moans, the dirty noise of his sex, it was perfect.

It was wild but still had the intense, delicate touch of their love, enjoying every drop of pleasure that coursed through their bodies. Their mouths devoured each other as his hands circled your breasts and played with your hard, needy nipples. Your hands buried in her back, trying to hold you as your movements became erratic, digging your nails deep into her skin.

"Yes, shit!" you screamed as the world faded away between you.

You wanted to scream, to get it all out of your chest, to tell him how much you loved him. You wanted to stay in this moment forever, just you and him. Clawing at his back, screaming his name desperately, his body beneath yours as his teeth dug into your shoulders and his fingers left red trails on your skin. You wanted to love Jude, private or public it didn't matter to you but he hated that word.

Friends. You weren't friends, he'd said so himself. Friends didn't look at each other that way. The way you looked at Jude, the way Jude looked at you. With love. With hope, with illusion, with fascination. As if you depended on each other, as if your hearts were tied together, as if he was your air to breathe, as if you were his reason for existing.

Everything about Jude enchanted you. You loved him. Like you had never loved anyone, like you had never wanted anyone. Because you were born to be together, you found each other, you met, you knew each other, you fell in love, you felt each other, you belonged.

"Look at me, baby" he whispered in your ear as you kept moving sensually over his body.

You were ecstatic in a dimension completely out of the ranges, feeling how your whole body joined Jude's, how your hearts beat in tandem, how your breaths got lost in each other's skins.

You could barely open your eyes, you could barely move but you couldn't stop. It was overwhelming, the desperation to feel more united than before, in body and soul, in being and consciousness.

"You are my whole life" he whispered in his perfect accent that melted you.

Your eyes smiled as your mouth couldn't shut up and your hips couldn't stop moving, hard and fast, his cock buried deep in your core, hitting exactly the right spot.

"I love you, princess" he whispered again as his hands held your face in front of yours.

"I love you, Jude" you said before receiving the surges of pleasure through your system.

And you exploded. He exploded. It was glorious. The way you both climaxed together as you told each other you loved each other, the look on his face as he spilled inside you, as you received him, tight and hot. How your hearts toasted from your breasts and wallowed in ecstasy.

The desperate gasps and your bodies trembling as you fell surrendered on his shoulder and Jude gently embraced you. Your skins glistening with sweat and your breaths heaving for air.

You never said that word to you before. Maybe you were too excited and had imagined those words but you are sure you had said them. It had come out loud and clear from your mouth. More than from your mouth, they came from deep inside you. You loved him and you didn't want to hide it anymore.

"Shall we make it official?" he asks as your bodies fall limp on the bed.

His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you to his chest. The words get stuck in your mouth, is he really serious?

"You don't have to feel pressured, I was just overreacting..." you try to say kindly, feeling guilty about earlier.

"No, I want to" he says firmly. "I want them to know that you're mine, that we're together" he insists and your chest vibrates.

You bite your lip as you hide a gasp.

"Come on, it's just you and me" he begs again with his sparkling eyes and that enchanting smile. "Do you really want to do this?"

A smile tugs at your lips and you nod as you feel your belly roar. Butterflies begin to flutter and make you sigh at his gaze.

You move closer to him and when your lips are almost brushing against his, you smile.

"Of course I do, Jude" you reply before crashing your lips against yours again.

[darylssunshine]

Torture

summary: you teased daryl, and now he's getting his revenge.

word count: almost 3.7k

genre: smut

warnings: p in v, choking, biting

era: commonwealth

a/n: this picture got me so deranged that I wrote several essays worth of smut. god. || thanks to @dixons-sunshine and @shadowcitrine on some parts of this!

~~~

Rubbing a hand down his face, Daryl opened the door to your shared home, exhausted from his supply run. The sound of the door clicking open and his hard boot steps on the floor were unmistakable, so you hollered down at him from upstairs.

“Hey, Dar!” You shouted in a sing-song way.

Immediately in a slightly better mood just by hearing your voice, he replied back in a louder than normal talking voice. “Evenin', sunshine.”

Grunting, he set his bag down near the door, noting to deal with it tomorrow when he didn't feel like he was going to literally fall apart where he stood. He gripped his elbow to stretch his forearms, followed by his neck.

He had lost his stealthy grace that he had when he was hunting just hours before, as his loud footsteps climbing the stairs could be heard throughout the house, the floorboards creaking loudly. He headed towards your shared bedroom when he noticed the bathroom light illuminating the adjacent wall, along with an interesting looking leaf you found and thumbtacked to the wall for “decoration.” What he was greeted with when he turned the corner into the bathroom was something he had definitely not been expecting. He was catatonic in his tracks.

You turned around to greet him in a silky, red dress that hugged you just right. It had a v-neck neckline, and it came down to your middle thighs, not showing any signs of you wearing anything underneath.

He raised an eyebrow while slowly looking you up and down, drinking you in. “S’all this?” He leaned his forearm on the doorframe to get a better look at you, suddenly not thinking about his sore neck anymore.

You noticed your husband's sultry look and grinned, redness adorning your cheeks. “Just something I found while I was out a couple of weeks ago. Nothing special.”

As an act of disagreement, Daryl slid behind you to grip your hips and put his face in the nape of your neck, breathing in your scent. His stubble tickled your neck, making you giggle. “‘Nothin’ special’ my ass.”

His hands began to explore your body, rubbing your exposed shoulders, contrasting your smooth skin with his calloused, overworked hands. They went back down to your hips, savoring the curves and the dips. You snapped out of your trance of feeling Daryl's perfect hands on you when he snaked said hands under your dress.

“Hey! Handsy!” You squealed playfully and quickly turned around to face him, disconnecting his hand from your body. You then slapped his arm, and he smirked in response.

“Ain't I allowed to appreciate ya?” He purred rhetorically, pulling you in again by your waist and resting his forehead against yours. Giggles erupted from your lips once more, very much enjoying the state your husband was in and how you alone made him like that.

“You definitely are, but…” You broke apart your intimate embrace, much to his dismay. “This isn't for you. I'm going out with a friend.”

“Oh?” Daryl questioned dangerously. He had no problem with you going out late and hanging out with your friends, but God damn it, he was horny.

You turned back to the mirror to fix your hair before you headed out the door. “Yeah, remember Emily? The person I introduced you to at the party?”

He grunted affirmatively.

“We’re just gonna catch up over some drinks, I just felt like putting on something fancy.” You stated matter-of-factly, carefully squeezing past Daryl in the doorway to step down the stairs, him following in tow.

He leaned against the banister of the staircase, arms crossed. “Aight. Have fun.”

“Dar, I won't do anything stupid. I swear.” Your eyes never leave his as you clasped your arms around his neck, emphasizing your seriousness.

Daryl placed a short yet loving kiss to your lips. “I know ya won't. Go on, now.”

You reluctantly separated yourself from him, but not before giving him yet another kiss in response. You both said your goodbyes, and you headed out to visit Emily.

---

The Commonwealth was lively, children’s laughter being heard from afar. You still weren’t that used to the usual hustle and bustle of everyday life there, but you were thankful that, in an apocalypse, this reality can still even exist. You were actually thankful to have a job again. You ran a small clothing shop right next to Princess’ vinyl shop. It was nice. A routine. Safety. Almost like a home.

Despite this, your shared home with Daryl had a tense atmosphere at the moment. He was grumpy all morning, only answering you in one or two word sentences. You tried and tried, pressed until you thought he was going to snap, anything to get him to talk to you. To communicate what he was feeling. But still, nothing. He was never that good at communication, even now. So, you let it go after a while, chalked it up to him waking up on the wrong side of the bed. You couldn’t help but worry if something was wrong, though. If you had done something wrong.

He was out doing God knows what, considering this was his day off from scouting with the Commonwealth Army. Hunting, probably. It’s what he did to get his mind off things. Get his anger out. Whatever he was feeling at that present moment.

Your suspicions were proven incorrect, though, because while you were standing outside your shop to get some fresh air, he seamlessly came into your peripheral view and leaned against the outside wall of the shop. You turned your head towards your husband's figure, and didn’t know how to react to what you saw standing before you.

He was in the outfit he practically lived in, his black jeans and long sleeve black sweater, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. His hair was matted, but still perfectly wavy, framing his face, only a few stray hairs in the way of his eyes. Three deskinned snakes adorned his neck, hanging limply against his chest. That was normal, though. He showed up with dead animals all the time. What was the most jarring, however, was his bloody hands, both of his thumbs hooked into his belt loops. It was almost like he had made absolutely no effort to clean them off in any way. Covered in blood and grime, excess blood dripping off his fingertips and onto the grass below. Dirt underneath his fingernails. Those three thick veins on both hands popping out a little bit more than usual. Almost like he knew that you wanted to see them like that. Imagining how they would look around your ne-

“Ya starin’, sunshine.”

Physically shaking your head, you forcefully broke yourself out of your Daryl induced haze. You cleared your throat and immediately sputtered out, “Nope. Nope. Not at all.” The clothing rack you were standing by suddenly seemed very interesting, so you absentmindedly flipped through the t-shirts, definitely not trying to hide your slightly flustered expression.

He hummed in amusement, and just like that, he was off to the communal kitchen to drop off his successful kill. Once you knew his gaze was out of view, you watched him walk all the way there until he shut the door behind him.

What the fuck?

—

The sheer strangeness of that interaction had you confused. Bewildered. Turned on. What?

You couldn’t focus. Thankfully, it had been a very slow day, only having one person browse the clothing within the last hour. You busied yourself with stock that you had been procrastinating for a few days.

You were about to bring the last box of clothes to the back, but your path there just so happened to include a window, and there was Daryl again, back against a nearby tree, staring at you through the glass. You shifted the box to be held with one arm to offer him an awkward wave. Of course, he did not return this greeting. Instead, he simply pulled something out of his pocket. It was a… peach that was cut in half. All while his half open eyes were locked with yours, he lifted the peach to his mouth, and you expected him to take a bite. What he actually did, however, was take a long lick down the middle with his tongue.

Oh.

He continued this at a purposely slow pace a few more times, and when his tongue went back into his mouth, you thought he was done. But he then raised his opposite hand to the peach and used his middle two fingers to glide over the fruit’s surface. Moving them back and forth, his fingers digging deeper into the squishy substance each time. He had gone about a knuckle deep before he took out his long fingers from the fruit. His fingers were drenched when he raised them up to his mouth and took in both fingers easily. They slid out of his mouth at an excruciatingly slow pace, his lustful gaze intensely boring into yours.

You didn't even know how long you’d been staring or how long your mouth had been agape when you ripped yourself away from the mirror and quickly hid in the back.

Your breathing was heavy and your cunt clenched.

What the fuck?

—

You definitely weren't focused on your job, now. That being effident by the few customers that came in after that interaction having to say your same several times at rising decibel levels to get your attention.

It was only thirty minutes until the end of your government assigned shift, so you resorted to walking around from behind the cashier’s counter to the main floor and pacing back and forth to try and release some of your anxious energy. It wasn’t working that well.

What was Daryl’s deal?

He clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk earlier, but now his mood was bolder. Daring. Flirtatious. It confused, and excited, but mostly confused the hell out of you. What could he be thinking? What reaction is he trying to achieve with this?

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear the main entrance door open and heavy boots step on the tile floor below.

“Hey.”

You yelped in fear and snapped your gaze over to the door, only to be met with the man that you were just thinking about. “Jesus, Dar! Scared the shit outta me!”

Instead of apologizing, he stepped closer to the back wall where you were standing and said “Am I th’ one gettin’ ya all worked up? Hm?”

You wanted to retort with a pissy and witty response, but your brain could only muster up a sputtered, “Well- you- I was-”

“Use yer words, baby.”

You bit your cheek and took a deep breath. He was going to be the death of you.

“What the hell is your deal today?” It was a layered question that required a quite lengthy answer.

He didn’t give you that satisfaction, however. He instead stepped forward even more, leaving you with no more room, bumping into the wall behind you. His large hand then raised to your throat, wrapping it around easily, and slid it up, simultaneously raising your chin up to force you to look at him and slightly restricting your air flow. He looked at you like you were his prey, and he was ready to pounce.

“Guess you’ll haveta see.”

You didn’t even have time to process what just happened before he turned around and walked out the door.

What. The fuck.

—

Your heartbeat was noticeably higher as you locked the main entrance door at the end of your shift and started the walk back to your house. This entire day had been a fever dream. You had been racking your brain all day to figure out Daryl’s angle in all of this torture he was springing upon you. Was it a special day? No, Daryl remembered those, you thought back to him telling you that he made an extra effort to remember certain days to make you happy. But this was just a random day.

Was he trying some sort of kink out? You never thought that Daryl was into extra kinky stuff, but if that’s what it was, it was working.

Did he just think getting you all hot and bothered was funny? Some sort of game? This was impossible to crack.

You’ll have to have a talk with him, you thought as you stepped inside your safe haven. You were about to loudly announce your presence, but that proved to be unnecessary when you moved your head to the right, because there he was, and it took everything in you not to drop the keys that you were holding.

He was spread out on the couch that faced the doorway, so he was completely in your view. Both of his arms were resting on either side of him on the back of the couch. His legs were deviously and very obviously spread apart. He was manspreading.

Your mouth watered, and you swallowed hard.

Almost as if on cue, he tilted his head in a mocking manner. God, even him tilting his head had you weak in the knees. He knows you were being tortured. He knows.

“See some’n ya like?

Your eyes unconsciously went to the bulge that was growing his pants. Yes. Yes, you did.

Shaking your head again, you ripped yourself away from his crotch and forced yourself to look at him in his fiery blue eyes, walking more into the living room. “I’m not answering that until you answer my question from earlier.” You spoke almost nonchalantly. Almost.

He shifted, bringing his arms down to cross them across his chest and then crossed one leg over the other. As if he knew you wanted to see more, but he wasn’t allowing you. Not yet.

“‘Member last night when I came home and ya was wearin’ that dress?”

“Of course I do, and I had a nice time last night at Emily’s, thanks for asking.” You tried to sound snappy.

“Wanted ta fuck ya right then n there. Wanted to rip it off ya. Ta fuck ya ‘till ya couldn’t walk fer days.”

Any chance of forming a coherent thought was now lost. He took advantage of your silence and continued.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout ya that night. How I wanted ya so bad and ya just walked out the door without even lettin’ me touch ya. So…” He tilted his head again. “I did the same thing ta you. Made ya all hot ‘n bothered, then left.”

So many thoughts were in your head just then. But one was more prominent than the rest.

“So, you were jealous?” You raised an eyebrow and let a small grin creep onto your face.

“Ya wanna say tha’ again, brat?”

That thoroughly shut you up, your wide doe eyes locked with Daryl’s, the confidence you just expressed suddenly lost.

He raised his head a bit and huffed in amusement. “The teasin’ that I was doin’? Ya liked it, didn’t ya?”

An affirmative nod was all you could muster.

“Words, sweetheart.”

Fuck, he was going to kill you.

You bit your lip in embarrassment. “Yeah. I did.”

With that, he pushed himself off the couch. Within a couple seconds, he was standing right in front of you, his hand being placed on the wall right beside your head. Your eyes flicked down to his lips as a force of habit. He took notice of this and leaned down towards yours, your eyes already closed. But, the kiss never came. He had stopped only a couple inches from your face.

“Yer so needy ‘n I haven't even touched ya.”

A high-pitched whine bubbled up in your throat.

“Need you.”

You didn't even think you were going to say that. It just came out. An honest knee jerk response straight from the depths of your brain. You felt as if the world was going to collapse around you if you didn’t have him buried deep inside you.

Daryl jerked his chin towards your shared bedroom. "Bed." He watched with impassive eyes as your chest heaved with heavy breaths. "Now."

As if a feral animal had possessed you, you hungerly latched onto his chapped lips. He happily returned the passion, gracing you with hot, open-mouthed kisses. He licked your lower lip to gain entrance, and you granted it without a second thought. You leaned into the kiss, craving more. When he leaned back, you were reminded that you were still right next to a wall.

He was a mind reader, you thought. Because right after your head softly impacted with the wall behind you, he grasped the back of your thighs and effortlessly picked you up and supported your weight, all while continuing the fight for dominance with his tongue. You yelped when he squeezed your ass with his large hand, but it was muffled by the mouth that was currently connected to yours. Your arm instinctually wrapped around the back of his neck, while the other grabbed his hair and pulled, desperate to touch any part of him you could.

He fucking growled.

The next thing you knew, you were being gently but firmly tossed onto the king-sized bed. You wasted no time getting your clothes off, and neither did he. Shirts, pants, bras, and vests were discarded to the floor with no care. The room was filled with heavy breaths and anticipation.

He crawled on his hands and knees to get to you, his eyes never leaving yours; a predator stalking his prey. He started marking his territory by sucking and biting your skin, earning a sudden hiss of pleasure from you. The squirming and unholy noises started when he bit and sucked right on the side of your neck, leaving no question who you belonged to. He gazed at his work like an artist admires their newly finished painting.

“Now everyone’ll know who owns ya.” He popped a tit in his mouth and lightly bit your nipple, rolling the other one with his pointer finger and thumb.

You had a vice grip on the sheets, neck straining to see your beloved.

He brought a hand down to your crotch and lightly swiped the area with two fingers, then ran fingers along the inside of the waistband teasingly.

“Dar…” You pleaded.

“Yeah?” He retorted, acting clueless as to what you needed, slowly removing your black panties and throwing them behind him to the floor with the rest of the garments. Neck still straining, you had so many things you wanted to say, but your limited brain function only allowed you to bat your eyelashes at him. He left a trail of purposefully wet kisses from the middle of your abdomen down to the very top of your lips.

“Tell me what ya want, baby.” He teased your sensitive folds with a calloused finger tip, and a deep, mangled breath crawled its way through your throat.

“You. All of you.” You obediently responded. You couldn’t have been more sincere, your words breathy and desperate.

That was all Daryl needed to hear before he eagerly pulled his boxers down, his cock springing to life, the tip already angry and red. You tried so hard to keep your eyes locked with Daryl’s, but your eyes involuntarily flicked to his other head. And it got even harder to concentrate when he got impossibly closer, the tip grazing your folds. Your chest heaved with loud, open mouth breaths.

“Needy little brat.”

A broken yell could be heard throughout the house when he entered you almost entirely.

You clumsily wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to be closer. He could never be close enough. His strong arms were placed on either side of your head to watch and listen to the symphony that you were currently performing for him.

“Mhm. Yeah. Wanna hear ya.” He grumbled softly into your ear, nibbling the lobe below.

Your mind had already gone blank, now filled with only thoughts of Daryl. How good he was making you feel. How deep his voice could go when he wanted it to. How he hit your sweet spot just right. Daryl. Daryl. Daryl.

Judging by his weak chuckling, you must’ve said that last part out loud.

You were in absolute bliss, mouth agape and eyes starting to roll and seeing stars, and Daryl couldn’t get enough of it. One of his favorite things about sex wasn’t his own pleasure, but yours. Giving it to you and seeing how you react while doing it.

“Feel so good. Fuck. So good.” The words came tumbling out of your mouth, no thought behind them. Pure honesty and ecstasy.

Daryl could tell you weren’t going to last long.

In an act of lust driven confidence, he propped himself up on his left forearm resting on your upper abdomen, while his other arm gripped the hair close to your scalp and yanked. Hard.

A high-pitched gasp filled the air. Your core became unimaginably tighter, begging for a release.

Daryl grunted through a half open mouth while giving you another hickey near your clavicle, roughly biting down just enough to hurt but not break the skin. His hazy eyes bore into you before he crashed down onto your lips, his hot breaths only exciting you more. “Let go, (Y/N.) I got ya.” He huffed in between when he was basically eating you alive.

Your insides became white hot fire. A mangled scream ripped through your throat, everything going blurry. You went limp on the bed, unmoving except your labored breathing. Daryl was in the same catatonic state but had his forehead pressed against yours so you could clearly see his sweaty and exhausted state. You both lay there for a few moments in sweet content silence. When you brought a hand up to stroke his cheek, he smiled.

“So, ya gonna wear that dress again?”

“Oh my God.”

Of fucking course you were.

[natsaffection]

Naughty. | N.R

Older!Natasha x younger!reader

MINORS DNI 18+!

Warnings: Age gap (Natasha is 37 and reader is 21), rough sex, restraints

Word count: 420 Words

A/n: something small but tasty

You didn't know how you got into this situation. Or maybe this was just another lie in your mind that you're trying to tell yourself.

It's not like you've been sending Natasha any sweet, dirty pictures all day today.

The first one actually came about because you looked so good after the shower. But when Natasha just wrote “Don't start it. ”, you felt a bit offended and went ahead and spammed her out of spite.

And now you're lying here. With your arms tied up to the bed frame in her room. The room that is otherwise silent is now filled with grunts and moans. “Is this what you wanted to achieve, Malysh?“ She asked innocently.

Yes. "I-I'm sorry..!" Your hands turn into fists and open again as Natasha gives another deep thrust into you and your body slides backwards. You open your mouth to let in air and close your eyes to - “Eyes on me,” Natasha growled. “I want to see how I fuck your naughty thoughts out of you.“

Your hips moved involuntarily, trying to get out of the way, but Natasha held you in place. „P-Please!!“

„Begging won't get you out of here,“ She murmured and pushed herself in and out of you slowly, and you moaned and screamed as she entered you again.

Her hand sliding to your clit as she began to rub the bundle of nerves while her other hand caressed your breast as her fingers rolled and tweaked your nipple. She leaned in and blew into your ear, making you shiver, before gently nibbling on the shell of your ear.

“I can’t hold back anymore, Malysh.” she spoke hastily as she grabbed your ass and slammed into you as you moaned loudly. Her pace was moving at breakneck speed and you were sure your bonds would break at any moment, “N-Nat- Ah! Oh g-god, fuck.. Yes! Just like that..!“ You screamed and pulled against the restraints and, as expected, they broke. Natasha was quick to realize and caught your hands and pushed them back over you and against the pillow, "That's the spot, huh?"

Your moans became louder as Natasha pounded you deeper and against your g-spot. You felt a tight spiral begin to form and you knew you were about to cum.

“Cum for me, Y/n.. Let it aaall out..” she cooed as she entered you, your vision filled with white as you came. You collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily, as Natasha pulled out of you.

-

-

-

-

[coco-cinnamon]

Kinktober Week 2: Mirror Sex

Warnings: cursing, smut, sexual themes, p in v, creampie, 18+ MDNI.

Pairings: Pope Heyward x Dove!Reader.

Summary: I mean... pretty self explanatory, just smut with no plot lmao.

Word Count: 900+ words.

Author's Note: I'm so happy that I decided to do this once a week instead of like I used to, there is way less pressure 😭

©coco-cinnamon 2024, please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.

You had just turned off the water before stepping out of the shower and grabbing your towel. You dried yourself off, the fluffy towel warming your skin as you stepped in front of the sink. Using your hand, you tried your best to wipe some of the steam off of the mirror. When you got enough steam off of the mirror that you could see yourself, you wrapped the white fluffy towel around your body before picking up your comb and gently combing through your damp strands. As you were combing out your hair, you boyfriend Pope came up behind you, planting a soft kiss to your shoulder.

"Did you have a nice shower?" He asked against your soft skin as he slowly trailed his kisses from your shoulder, up your neck jaw before stopping at your cheek. "Yeah, I did." You said with a soft giggle when he kissed your cheek. "I'm sorry if I took too long though. You can shower now if you want to." You said softly as you combed out the last of your hair before Pope wrapped his arms around you, kissing behind your ear. "I didn't come in here to shower, princess." He said quietly against the shell of your ear.

"Then why did you come in here?" You whispered, already knowing what the answer would be. He chuckled softly, trailing kisses along your neck. "For you, of course." He gently sucked on the sweet spot on your neck, causing you to let out a soft gasp in response, biting your bottom lip softly. "I would have came in while you were in the shower but then I decided that it would be even hotter to fuck you in front of the mirror." He said as he gently bit your neck. You whimpered as he continued to gently kiss, suck, and bite your neck. His hands came down to the towel that was currently wrapped around your body as he began to slowly tug it off. "You won't be needing this anymore." He said against your skin as he let the soft material fall to the floor.

Before you could say or do anything, Pope was bending you over on the counter beside the sink, your hands coming down to press against the cool counter, holding yourself up so you could see both you and your boyfriend in the mirror. His shorts and boxers fell to the floor, pooling around his ankles. He kicked the fabric aside and stroked his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance. You felt the head of his cock run through your folds a few times before he began to slowly push inside of you. You gasped and let out a moan, his length filling you up and stretching you out.

Your eyes closed as he bottomed out of you. You could feel every inch of him. He slowly pulled out before ramming back into you again. You let out another moan as he began to fuck you, his pace slow but his thrusts hard. His hand came up to tangle in your hair as he made you look at yourself in the mirror. He began to pick up the pace as you saw your reflection looking right back at you. More and more moans, squeals, and whimpers fell from your parted lips as Pope continued to plow his cock into your tight pussy, his speed picking up with each thrust. "Fuck, you feel incredible." He groaned as he threw his head back. You cried out as your head fell but he quickly pulled at your hair, causing you to look up again.

"Look in the mirror when I fuck you." He growled against your ear as he continued to ram his cock into you from behind. You made eye contact with your reflection once again. You looked wanton and needy. You could already feel your orgasm quickly approaching, the coil in your stomach tightening with each thrust. "You like watching me fuck you, don't you?" He whispered against your ear, his thrusts becoming more sporadic. You moaned in response but he just tugged on your hair more. "Use your words, Y/N. Tell me how much you love it." "Fuck! I- I love it so much-" You began to say but your sentence was broken off by another moan.

You clenched around his cock, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Come on, cum for me." He said as he gently bit your ear. You eyes rolled back, your legs trembling as your orgasm washed over you, a wave of pleasure hitting you and if it weren't for Pope's arm wrapped around your waist, you probably would have collapsed to the floor right then and there. He continued to thrust into you, helping your ride out your high before coming himself, painting your walls as you clenched around him. He groaned as he came with you before slowly pulling out of you, his cum dripping out of your cunt and down your thigh.

"Shit, maybe I shouldn't have fucked you before your shower." He chuckled as he kissed your cheek. "Now you're all dirty again." You turned around to face him before kissing him, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth before pulling away. "And so are you. So why don't we shower together, I'm sure we could find a way to make our shower... interesting." You said with a smirk.

Author's Note: tysm for reading, lovelies!

[pablitogavii]

PLEASE I NEED A NEW STORY NOW

Counting Blessings

You practically ran to Mikky's apartment , and you needed to tell someone.

"He's so tiny..can't believe he was living inside my belly for nine months" she said playing with the little boy laid on the couch while you were sipping on some tea completely lost in thought.

"What's wrong girl??" she said and you finally snapped out of your dreamland. She could help you, but you had to tell her now.

"Umm..I..I..ne..ed..advice??" you say and she nods waiting for the question.

"Mikky..I'm..pregnant" you say touching your stomach not believing it until it finally left your lips. Now it was all true. And you were panicking more than ever!!

"Oh My God! Congratulations!! How's Pablo taking it??" she asked already knowing he doesn't know from the way my face looked. I was too scared to tell him.

"I was too scared to tell him with everything going on..I found out on the day of his injury" you explain

"And still you haven't told him?? When will you!?" she asked

"I don't know! Everything happened so fast with him..and..tomorrow is his surgery" you say

"You have to tell him tonight! It will help him tomorrow!" she said

"U sure? I don't know if it's good idea?" you say worried he might hate it deep down knowing he's not a man like that.

"He's not gonna hate it! He loves you! And this will help him overcome this tragedy that happened" she said and you smiled thinking the same thing. Maybe now he won't feel useless these eight months..

"You're right! I gotta go!" you say and she smiles as you rushed passed Frankie who yelled "say hey to Pablo for me!" before you left.

When you arrived home, Pablo was sitting at the sofa. You came in nervously playing with your sweater edges.

"Amor? You wanna sit or keep standing in front of a screen like that?" he mocked and you quickly moved sitting down in silence. Now he was intrigued.

"Que pasa? Everything ok with Mikky and the baby?" he asked and at the mention of beby your stomach literally flipped.

"Yeh..yeh..they're fine..but um P, I have something to tell you" you say and he nods waiting while lowering the volume on the tv.

"Just please don't talk to me about the surgery, I'm nervous enough.." he said with smile but you knew he was not in such a mood..at least not yet.

"No..umm..it's not about that..well it is about the next eight months..and I know it seems like the end of the world to you..but um..I..j..just..don't know how to tell you this..it's so hard" you said and Pablo started to have fear in his eyes.

"You don't love me anymore? Yeh, you love a footballer and i'm an invalid now.." he said and you shut him up with your hand as he stared at you with big eyes.

"Shut up P..I love you so much..and..I think these eight months don't have to be so horrible..b..because" you move your hand while he keeps quiet. This was it..

"I'm pregnant Pablo.." you say touching your belly and he just sits there frozen.

"I..will..be..dad?" he said and you smiled nod

"Yes, cariño..you will be papi in eight months" you moved closer kneeling in front of his legs holding his face that was covered in tears.

"You happy cariño??"you try nervously not knowing what type of tears these were.

"Of course I feel happy! You're the love of my life preciosa..now you have my baby..it's all perfect" he said as you hugged him tightly letting him cry into your shoulder.

"I'm blessed preciosa..so blessed" he said and you smiled nodding your head and kissing his the top of his.

"You shouldn't be on the floor! It's cold! Venga! Let me take you to bed preciosa.." he said and you chuckled reminding him he is the patient now but he refused to listen holding your hand and taking you to bed where he tucked you in before joining behind you to cuddle you.

"Um, preciosa..could..I?" he said referring to your belly and you smiled taking his arm and wrapping it so he touched your still invisible bump.

"It's your daddy mi amor..he's the one touching you now" you say he watched in utter love with blushed cheeks.

"What would you like to have amorcito??" he asked still touching gently and you smiled wide.

"Hm..it's a boy cariño..I know" you say to his confused face.

"Don't you find it out later??" he asked and you chuckled nodd

"Hm..it's mother's instinct..we will have little Pablito in eight months" you say looking at his brightened face. Then you turned around touching his face worried.

"Just..please..return to us P" you say to him before he kissed your lips lovingly with much force.

"I promise..there's nothing I wish more..just to keep counting blessings with you two.." he said into new kiss that gave you reassurance..<3

[ivystoryweaver]

Spectre

A Moon Knight Halloween Love Story

Event #8b: You Won't Be Alone

prev | Fic Masterlist | My Masterlist | next

Event #8b Summary: What do you and Marc do with your newfound gift of touch? I bet you can guess...

Pairing this chapter: Marc Spector x f!reader (alters mentioned)

Word count: 3.9k

Content: nsfw, mdni (more below the cut)

references to death, dying, burial, dead body; romance, the yearning, angstyish, domestic fluff, mentions of food, smut, p in v, cockwarming, not beta'd. reader is not bigger than the system because she can wear their clothes.

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PREVIOUSLY on "Spectre"...

“I’m scared to move,” you explained in a strained whisper. “I’m afraid that maybe I’m dreaming.”

“I’m real,” he assured you, running his hands down the curves of your body, touching you all over reassuringly. “You’re here with me…somehow.”

You sighed dreamily, brushing his cheek with your soft hand.  "Maybe you brought me to life.”

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Marc had a few ideas about how the two of you should spend your morning, but as your body came to life fully, it made the natural demands a living body makes. Your throat felt parched with thirst, and you wanted to visit the restroom.

Your mind began to race with all sorts of thoughts, such as: were you really here? Were you human? Where did your body come from? Were you still buried in the cemetery? Were you even buried at all? Had you been cremated? If so, where did your flesh and bones come from? And why were you still wearing the clothes you died in? Surely Marc's old hoodie wasn't what you were buried in.

There were small things to consider too, such as: did you need to brush your teeth? Yes, probably a good idea. But you didn’t have a toothbrush anymore. Should you go shopping? Did you have any clothes? Did they keep your stuff or get rid of it? Your eyes swam with uncertainty as you pushed yourself into a seated position on the edge of the bed.

Marc had already climbed out of bed before you and was peeling Steven's soft, white T-shirt over his head. That view alone distracted you just long enough to bring you back to the present.

"Baby? You okay?" Marc asked, easing back to your bedside, hoping not to startle you. Reaching out, he brushed his knuckles along the curve of your cheek, and peered down into your eyes.

Shaking the previous thoughts out of your head, you managed a smile. "Yeah, I’m okay. Just ready to get up." So you did just that. Your bare feet hit the cold floor, the sensation chilling you all over in an instant, causing you to misstep.

Marc was already there, catching you safely in his waiting arms. He gathered you close and touched his forehead to yours. "I’ve got you," he assured you, helping you to stand upright.

"Thank you," you whispered. "Just a little clumsy, I guess."

Rubbing his nose against yours affectionately, he pressed a sweet kiss to your mouth. "Must be overwhelming." he sympathized. "Take it one step at a time, okay?" You couldn’t resist another kiss before clinging to his arms as he led you to the bathroom.

As if reading your thoughts from earlier, he rummaged around in one of the bathroom cabinets, explaining to you that there should be an extra toothbrush somewhere. You stared, dumbfounded into the mirror, at your reflection. You looked like yourself - not a thing had changed, but somehow you felt as if you were gazing at a stranger.

As Marc handed you the toothbrush, he caught your gaze in the mirror. "Sweetheart, hey. It’s okay. We can slow all this down." He turned toward you, pulling your attention away from his mesmerizing reflection.

"Hey. Look at me," he softly commanded, "Stay with me."

"I’m okay," you assured him, grasping his arms for support. "I promise. You’re just really...beautiful."

Wetting your lips, your eyes flickered to his own before dropping to his bare, muscular chest. Brushing your fingertips over his bicep, you felt him shiver at your touch. "I’m sorry," you whispered. "It just takes me a minute to process every single thing. I feel like I'm running a little slow."

Marc nodded understandingly. "Trust me, there is nothing I want more than to spend the day touching you. But let’s take it easy," he suggested. Sliding his arms around your back, he pulled you into a gentle but secure hug. He pressed you protectively against the heat of his bare chest - the warmth of him comforting you in a way you could not have imagined only yesterday.

“Let’s just be together,” he reiterated, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending a wave of chills down to your toes.

From there, everything was an adventure: the tingle of Jake’s cinnamon toothpaste on your tongue, the foaming bubbles in your mouth, the cool, fresh water as you rinsed your mouth before taking a long, refreshing drink.

You and Marc decided to shower, and when it came right down to it, you suddenly felt nervous. Not to be with Marc, or even to be naked, but just at the powerful, overwhelming sensations happening every second of every minute.

Staring deeply into your eyes, Marc brought you back to the present as he reached for the zipper of his old hoodie, which enveloped you so adorably. Dragging the zipper down, he worked it free of your shoulders, finding a well-worn Chicago cubs T-shirt underneath.

"I forgot about this old thing," he quietly gushed, with a tender smile. Brushing his fingertips underneath the hem, you flinched slightly as he caressed your stomach. 

His body was responding in obvious ways and he wanted more.  He wanted all of you. His fingers inched around your back, to the tiny sliver of baby-soft skin where the hem of your Cubs t-shirt rose up above the waistband of your joggers.  He slid one hand possessively underneath, splaying his long fingers over the curve of your lower back.  He remembered that curve quite well from your years together. He remembered every curve.

His dark eyebrows shot up questioningly, asking permission to continue. You nodded, so he worked the soft cotton over your head, tossing it to the floor to join the discarded hoodie.

Wetting his lips, his gaze fell to your chest and the navy blue sports bra covering your breasts. Brushing the strap from your shoulder, his eyes bore into yours.

"You sure?" he whispered.

You nodded again, feeling so loved and cherished at this moment, even though you wanted to question everything, like why the universe gave you this second chance.

Crossing your arms, you helped Marc pull the sports bra over your head and you didn’t miss the way his tongue swiped over his lips hungrily.

"My beautiful girl," he uttered, cupping your cheek and bringing your mouth to his, sampling your lips one at a time before kissing you, deeply, reassuringly. Your hands locked behind his neck as he pulled you against the solid wall of his chest. The feeling of your bare skin touching his again electrified you and made your knees go weak, but he held you securely. Squeezing you so tightly, he lifted you off your feet.  By the time your lips parted, you were practically gulping air as your skin burned with passion.

Marc set you down, pulling at the drawstring of your baggy joggers, before pushing the material over your hips. Kneeling down, he kept working until you were bare. Then he stood on his knees before you, fingertips tracing the curves of your thighs, and just when you sensed the bathroom steaming up from more than just the shower water, you felt his lips against your tummy.

He hugged you, there on his knees, so desperately. "Missed you so much," he murmured into your skin, kissing you reverently before peering up at you, his own eyes glistening with tears.

"Come here," you coaxed, beckoning him to stand so you could help him take off his sleep pants. Marc’s breathing grew shallow as you eased the material over his hips, freeing his throbbing erection. The soft cotton pooled at his feet and he noticed your gaze fixed on his crotch as he stepped free of the joggers.

“Come on,” he sweetly offered, leading you by the hands into the shower's warm spray.

You hissed as the water pelted your skin, causing you to jump back a bit.

"Too hot?" Marc asked, using his body as a shield against the hot spray.

"Maybe a little," you sheepishly confessed.

"I’m sorry baby, I thought you liked it hot. I’ll turn it down." He rushed to get everything perfect for you, which made your heart burst with love for him.

"It’s not that," you assured him as he turned back to pull you close. "Everything is intense right now - every single thing is bright and loud and hot and cold and..extreme."

"All right. It's okay," he assured you, brushing his thumb over your cheek. "Let’s get you washed up."

The next several minutes convinced you that you had definitely passed on to heaven. The soft lather of suds on your skin, the dragging scratch of the loofa, Marc's careful attention as he took gentle care of you. This had to be paradise.

His lips trailed down the side of your neck as he pushed the loofa down the curve of your back. The softness of his lips made you shiver. As his hand neared the swell of your hip, he dropped the sponge and squeezed your soft flesh, nibbling on your shoulder.

"Is this okay?" He asked you between tempting kisses.

"Yes," you breathlessly whispered, sliding your fingers into his drenched curls as he lifted you up. Pulling your thighs around his waist, he pushed you up against the steamy, tiled wall. Licking hotly into your mouth, he gently pushed his way inside you.

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If this was a dream, Marc never wanted to wake up. A delusion? He would gladly accept dementia. If he were dead, he would willingly never again draw breath.

You were here. Alive, somehow. In his arms, skin pressed to skin, your breath on his lips. As his body joined with yours, he shuddered, overcome in every possible way with every imaginable emotion. He felt that familiar clench as he entered you - heard the hiss as he stretched you open over his length. He loved the way your body fit his - with a perfect tightness to generate the most delicious friction for you both.

You gasped his name, your fingernails digging into the flesh of his shoulders.

“Feels so good, baby,” he groaned, mistaking your sounds for satisfaction.

"Wait. Marc, stop," you cried, desperately gasping for air as you pushed against his shoulders.

With an involuntary groan, he pulled out of you, lowering you down so your feet could touch the shower floor, making sure to support you as you got your bearings.

"D-did I hurt you?" He panted, frantically checking you over.

"No. No, it's just...it's too much," you gasped, your chest heaving as you gripped his arms for support. "I can't...I can't breathe. It's too much."

He thought his own chest might collapse as he watched yours heave.

“I’m so sorry. I…what do I do?”

Marc felt as if he should pick you up and carry you out of the humid bathroom, while simultaneously fearing you needed space from him. Turning off the water, he reached for a clean towel, wrapping you up protectively.

Dark eyes scanned you over, desperate for an answer. "Okay...tell me what to do. Is it me? You-you weren’t ready?" If he fucked this up, he would never forgive himself.

You heard the pinch of panic in his voice as your eyes met his. The last thing you wanted was for him to leave you right now.

"No, Marc, it’s not like that. Please hold me," you begged him, sliding your arms around his back and laying your head on his shoulder. "It's not you,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his skin. “I want you more than anything. It's just too much. You feel so good - it was so intense, I thought I was going to pass out."

"Okay. Okay, sweetheart," he soothed, rocking you gently, pressing a fierce kiss to your temple. "Let's get you out of here."

The next several minutes were filled with longing gazes as Marc dressed you in his clothes.

“Sorry I rushed you,” he whispered as you stepped into fresh joggers.

“I promise you didn’t,” you swore, halting his motion to meet his gaze. “Believe me, that’s what I want. It’s almost all I can think about. But like I said, I’m just…trying to catch up.”

He nodded, but you could tell you didn’t change his mind.

The final result of you wearing Marc’s clothes was a touch comedic, but you were clean and felt so cherished.

"There," he declared, satisfied with his handiwork. "Warm enough?"

"Yes," you nodded, feeling so safe in his arms. The two of you wore hooded sweatshirts and joggers, and Marc even found Steven's fluffiest pair of goldfish socks to keep your feet warm.

“You’re sure you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you?” He sweetly questioned, his eyebrows shifting and worried.

“No, I promise. I wanted to. I want to. Believe me, I don’t think there’s anything I want more than to be with you again,” you assured him. “I just…I couldn’t breathe for a second. Too much of a good thing, I think.”

His familiar scowl relaxed slightly, so maybe he was starting to believe you. Right then, your stomach let out the loudest growl, making the two of you chuckle.

"Kitchen?" Marc proposed.

"Kitchen," you agreed.

As you left the bedroom, you asked Marc to grab Jeremiah's fish bowl.

"Don't want to leave the little guy alone in here," you explained. He was only a fish, but you felt apprehensive to be without your little family.

As soon as you departed your bedroom, your heart longed to see your writing loft. But before you could even think to mention it, Marc was already apologizing about the house.

"Things might look different," he softly explained, tucking Jeremiah underneath his arm while holding onto your hand with his other. "We...I wanted to...um..." He swallowed, slowly trudging toward the staircase. "I needed to...Jake and Steven - they helped me put your stuff in the shed. So, the house’ll look different."

Pausing at the top of the staircase, he turned back to you. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you assured him, squeezing your joined hands. "It's important to me that you were living your life. That you were grieving. It sounds healthy."

Chewing your lip for a second, you pulled him by the hand toward your loft. "I want to see it. Please."

"Okay, of course," he agreed, but he tugged you back. "Remember...it looks different.”

You nodded before pushing open the door to maybe your favorite place in the whole world. The birthing suite of all your little friends - the characters that leapt straight from your heart onto the pages of your books.

Glancing at cute Jeremiah, darting around in his fish bowl under your partner's arm, you sighed a long, cleansing sigh.

Your computer was gone. Several of your bookshelves were cleared. Artwork and pictures no longer lined the walls. A bulletin board of letters from your sweet fans was empty.

Dust had settled on every surface, and you could tell the sun had not shone through this window in months. Heavy drapes blocked out the light. The whole thing felt stale.

A smile lit up your face as you pulled the curtains open. Light flooded the room, as a swirl of dust danced and scattered. You stretched out your fingers as if you could feel it, like a child might reach out to touch snowflakes.

Marc thought maybe he'd never seen anything more magical than your face at this moment, despite the miracles and wonders he'd witnessed as the avatar of an ancient god. And just when he thought his heart might explode with love for you, your nose wrinkled up at the intrusion of so much dust, and you sneezed.

"Bless you," he found himself saying as you bounced on your toes, swiping your finger through a trail of dust which had settled on your desktop.

"I hate dust," you practically giggled, your nose scrunching right before you sneezed again. You laughed out in delight. "I can sneeze. I can cry and sneeze and feel everything."

Your dust-disturbed, watery eyes landed on Marc. "Thank you," you gushed. "Thank you for not selling this house. Thank you for being here with me."

Worried that he'd taken so many wrong steps to get to this point, Marc felt a tightness in his chest loosen. "You're welcome. I'm sorry about your stuff. I-I couldn't look at it. It was my fault," he hurriedly explained. "It was me. Steven and Jake couldn't bear to get rid of it."

"It's okay," you assured him. "It's perfect. Just the dust and sunshine to greet me. Anything else would have been overwhelming." Your eyes met his. “It’s like you know just what I need.”

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The two of you finally made it down to the kitchen, but not before you delightedly greeted your other three fish, thrilled to see them all thriving.

Little Jeremiah swam happily in his fish bowl on the kitchen countertop while you and Marc decided to make some breakfast. You were still experiencing sensations as if every one of them was new to you, so it took you several minutes of feeling a cold egg in the palm of your hand, hearing the satisfying crunch as you cracked it open, smelling the bright citrus of orange juice and the slight burn of toast, before you noticed Marc sort of…staring at you.

“Hey,” you softly called, moving into his personal space. “This is crazy, right? We’re just making breakfast - ”

“Like a regular morning,” he supplied. “I can’t believe it. I seriously cannot believe you’re here with me right now.”

“I’m here,” you assured him, tangling your fingers with his. “Just…stay with me. Talk to me. Please don’t shut me out.”

“I’m not,” he quickly protested, bringing your joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m here too. I’m here, sweetheart. And I know we need to talk...to figure this all out. We will."

Nodding, you turned back to breakfast, your heart fluttering as Marc moved in behind you. Working hand over hand with you, he stayed close. He knew you needed it somehow.

The two of you tried to choke down some food, but something between you felt unfinished.

“How are you feeling?” Marc asked, pushing his plate away.

“Like I want to be close to you,” you whispered, reaching for his hand.

“Come here,” he beckoned you to follow him out of the kitchen. Venturing into the living room, he sat down in his favorite chair and pulled you into his lap, just like old times.

“Better?” He questioned, feeling a shiver of desire as you draped your body over his.

“Much,” you replied, snuggling close to him.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, brushing his thumb over your lips.

You answered by pressing your lips to his. You felt clearer now. Steady. Just the way Marc had made you feel when you were nothing but a spectre. He gave you substance, made you real somehow.

After kissing him for a brief eternity, you pushed your hands underneath his hoodie demandingly, needing to feel his skin once again. Marc released his hold on you, one arm at a time, to shrug the thing over his head and all the way off his arms before using both strong hands to boldly push your sweatshirt up your back.  

You paused, pulling back to look lustfully into his eyes as you ran the tip of your tongue over your nearly bruised lips. Crossing your arms, you assisted Marc in sliding the hoodie all the way up your torso and over your head, where it landed in a pile on the floor.  

“You okay?” He panted, forcing his hands still before running them all over you the way he wanted to.

You leaned forward, breathing hotly on his ear.  “You can touch me.”  

Marc was quaking with longing for you.  His arms wound around your back again, pulling you tightly against him.  “Baby,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to yours. “I need you. Anything you can give me, I want.” He kissed you again, deeper this time. 

You stroked his cheek, rubbing his nose with your own. “I want you too, so much, Marc.”  Using both hands to pull his face to yours, your lips met for another kiss. 

A fire ignited in his body and he needed you like he needed air to survive. He pulled you against him as his tongue licked into your mouth. You felt dizzy and deliriously enraptured as his body flexed under yours, his hands seeming to touch everywhere at once.  In a matter of moments, you pulled your remaining clothes away, kissing and touching - desperately caressing every inch of skin.

Marc’s touch felt beyond amazing and you allowed his hands to explore and touch anywhere he desired. Wishing to hold nothing back from him, you would give him everything you could.  

You moaned when your bodies made nearly the most intimate contact possible as he brushed his fingers between your thighs. One hand found a home on your hip, guiding you to move against him, while the other hand set your body ablaze with his unabashed caress. You felt delirious with desire, your fingernails digging into the flesh of his shoulders.

“Please, Marc,” you begged. “I need you.”

He stilled his movements, causing you to whimper in protest, worried he might be too nervous to proceed.  

Suddenly, he shifted his hips and you felt him plunge inside, stretching you in a way you could hardly remember was possible. He held himself still, his forehead pressed to yours as he moaned out your name.

The feeling was so intensely perfect for Marc that he was almost afraid to move, but not for reasons of fearing he would hurt you. He had simply felt so alone and in so much pain for so long, he almost forgot that bliss like this existed. He felt surrounded by you and he never, ever wanted to leave.  

“Baby…oh fuck,” you gasped, seating yourself on him fully - the stretch of him filling you perfectly. Bracing your palms on his muscled chest, you held yourself still, hoping to keep from getting overwhelmed again.

Marc felt as if a million tons of pressure that had been a crushing weight on his chest were being lifted and his body energized with new purpose and reborn love. He experienced the most pure moment of clarity and freedom, knowing this was right.

He gasped up at you, thick fingers gripping your hips as he struggled not to thrust before you were ready.

“Jesus…honey,” he almost growled, his fingertips digging into your flesh. “Look at you. Need you so bad.”

Finally, you started to slowly rock your hips, your breasts bouncing as you held Marc’s gaze. Your back arched as pleasure tingled up and down your spine. A delicious pressure built in your core, already, overwhelming you. Your head swam and you started to get dizzy…but it felt so good that you decided to give into it. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” Marc panted, pulling you against his chest to support your weight. Your body seemed to meld with his and you started to wonder where you ended and he began. He was so deep inside you making you feel more alive than anything ever had - not once, ever in your life.

You went limp in his arms, unable to do anything but feel, the sensation of friction, the salt of sweat, his hot breath, the texture of his skin, the rumble of his groans of pleasure, the heavy drag of his thick cock inside you.

“Don’t…stop…” is all you managed to pant before your body seized in a pleasure so consuming, you almost felt as if your soul left your body.

Which was the whole damn problem in the first place.

Only you were here, with him. 

“I’ve got you,” he promised again, and again.

You remained. You were real.

And when he filled your core it felt like molten lava.

You never wanted to move from this spot.

next

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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[childofsardior]

What are each koopalings fears and how do they react to them

I admit in advance that I was not too sure about this one ^v^' but I thought about this for a while and now I'll try to answer!

I will talk about the *main* or most *iconic* fears that came to my mind!

Ludwig: Talking about irrational fears, Ludwig is scared as heck from Pipe Organs. Not only of their sound, but also being close to one or even see one in the distance. This fear was actually developed by Lud after "The Incident", when, at the age of 15, a huge Pipe Organ actually collapsed on him while fighting the Mario Brothers (yes, an HC version of Pipe Down exist in my AU if you're wondering :P). He didn't touch that instrument even since and will refuse to come too close to one of his own will. He is also secretely afraid of failure related to missions or competitions he really cares about. Being so full of himself and all, he'll always picture himself as the obvious winner of a fight or a race or a contests even before the start, but in the end he will usually accept his defeat if his opponets were *actually* better than him - somethimes even compliment them. But...! If Ludwig was actually following some important orders from Bowser and ended up messing things up, if he could not prove himself as a perfect big brother to his siblings in tricky situations, or even if he could not "reach the podium" in some sort of musical competition he worked so hard for with his orchestra and all... well, in these cases failure will actually matter a lot, even affecting his self-esteem for a while.

Lemmy: This one is easy: Lemmy is afraid of growing up, responsabilities and adulthood in general. He's technically the second oldest, but having Ludwig as the "responsable one" as a big bro allowed Lemmy to spend time with his younger siblings playing and chilling without caring much about "responsabilities". But as he's growing up, his childish vibes started to feel more like a confort-zone for him, while the idea of being forced in a cold future made of burocracy, hard decisions and real responsabilty for his action really do bothers him - he's afraid he won't be able to play around and be silly and do wathever he feels like anymore, basically seeing adulthood as a sort of horrible prison made of boredoom and bags under the eyes.

Roy: Roy looks like he's not afraid of anything - well, he actually is afraid of Wendy when she's angry, but everyone in the family is, so this doesn't count. In reality, Roy has some secret fears nowdays, the biggest one being his fear of loosing his tough and cool mask in front of the others. He literally won't take off his sunglasses because he's ashamed of his heterocromia. He won't let his hair grow again after he found this style because he's afraid he won't look cool enough. Most of all, he will play the "rough guy card" claming that books are dumb and everything refined is for loosers, while he secretely enjoys reading and he can actually knows how to do things such as playing the violin (yes, you read it right). He won't admit in front of his family that he loves bunnies and would want one as a pet. He will mock Wendy's exagerate style while secretly wanting to polish his own claws pink or purple, and so on. He only talks about this with some friend out of the castle, but only in rare occasions and in a "but-I-am-joking-bro!" way.

Iggy: His siblings joke about he must be afraid of herbicide and rabbits, since he looks like a carrot. But in reality, Iggy seem to have no actual fears at all. He will laugh in front of his enemies and find deadly monsters cool as heck, and will probably try to study them at best or adopt them at worse. He can be sometimes annoyed or bothered by things in a "please-stop-doing-that-like-right-now" way, and he is a bit germophobic too, but rarely he'll be truly afraid of things or situations... except made for the times he looses his glasses. If this happens, Iggy will totally panic - he can barely see anything without them, and will lose all his composure if they break. When he was a kid, he often cried aloud or even weeped dramatically while trembling in a corner if he lost his eyeglasses, while now he'll just panic a lot while blindly searching for them in a very nervous way, usually asking Lemmy or Morton for help if near.

Wendy: Only a few things can actually scare the only girl of the group. One thing she's afraid of is her make-up or outfit being ruined during important events - especially if she spent hours choosing her clothing, trying different make-ups and so on. But if someone actually *does* ruin her appearance - usually Roy or Larry - then they are gonna be the ones scared for real as soon as Wendy stops being ashamed for the incident and start getting angry, REAL ANGRY instead. She's a a bit claustrophobic too, and she could get nervous if she suddenly finds herself in a dark and small space. The only exception for this is made for her seashell custom bed that she owns at one of her seaside residences - she feels safe enough inside it, even is she prefers to keep the upper part open a bit while sleeping.

Morton: Morton's biggest fear is hurting his siblings without noticing, or being unable to protect them, especially Junior. Morton wasn't too aware of his own strenght when he was younger, but after the incident of the Malatone Formula:X, when he found himself fighting his own siblings under the BFF' brainwash, he now is quite scared by the possibility of hurting them. Talking about more irrational fears, he is scared of bugs, especially if very colorful or noisy - he likes to observe the ones in Iggy's terrariums, but he could panic if he sees a butterfly or a wasp flying towards him during a trip, or a grasshopper jumping around randomly while he's walking on a field.

Larry: Larry's biggest fears revolve around Bowser's anger - especially, he hates being scolded in a "no please not again!" way and one time he even tried to run away from the Dark Lands to avoid his adoptive's father rage - and the deep fear that he will never reach his big siblings'. He's always trying his best to be noticed or complimented by them or Bowser, but nobody seem to ever notice all the effort he put on things. So Larry's starting to think that he will be always the "mediocre" one, that he'll never be as skilled as Ludwig, as cool as Roy, as carefree as Lemmy, so clever as Iggy, and so on.

Bowser Jr.: Junior is a bold and brave kid... apparently. He likes to think he has no fear exactly like his dad, and that nobody and nothing can stop him. But in reality, Junior is quite scared of the idea of being alone. Especially after the attack of Fawful in the Mushroom Kingdom and Dark Lands, Junior started to learn the importance of team work and all. He is also used to constant company - from his half-siblings, from servants and minion, and most of all, from Kamek - and if left on his own for too much time he'll start to feel gloom at first, and desperatly scared after some while.

[malereadermaniac]

Taylor Swift lyrics with Your Crush p.2

Male reader / Male crush

Requested but Tumblr deleted the ask 😭 m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI word count: 1.1k fyi each lyric is a different scenario, they aren't linked

"Please don't be in love with someone else, please dont have somebody waitin' on you" ~ Enchanted

He was in love with you, (y/c) couldn't deny that anymore, but he was DEEP in the closet

After spending those whole 24h together, it only strengthened his feelings for you

He knew you must like him too after what the two of you did, but during the HUGE amount of talking you two did after having sex (y/c) mentioned his fear or coming out

Now, he's constantly stressed at the idea of you falling for another guy while you wait for (y/c)

He spends nights on end worrying about it, more than he worries about coming out in general

"Oh i remeber you driving to my house in the middle of the night, im the one who makes you laugh even when you're 'bout to cry" ~ You Belong with Me

Not to sound like a pick-me but his girlfriend was horrid

She only dated (y/c) for the social status, a social climber if you would

You and (y/c) have been friends for a while, becoming friends day 1 of high-school

He lived ages away but he would still come over to your house to hang out at least twice a week

You developed a crush on him real quick - after you came out he was one of the few people who stood up for you to the dickheads who thought it was hilarious that your liked guys - and you're heart just skipped a beat

But since he started dating his girlfriend, he's become slightly more distant and definitely less himself

(Y/c) seems overall less happy

So when your phone buzzes in the middle of the night, you could only guess it was (y/c) but the text itself freaked you out

"Im outside please come down"

You're outside ASAP

His eyes are sunken liked he'd been crying or hasn't been sleeping

"Sorry (y/n) I just really needed to talk to someone

You assure him it's okay and ask what's up, and that's when it starts

To summarise, they argued, (y/c) had had enough of his gf controlling little things in his life, she blew up and now he's single

And to summarise again, you invited him in, lent him a shoulder to cry on and the night ended with you two sharing a bed

"I need someone tonight. I'm sorry"

"I could see you in your suit and a neck tie, pass me a note saying 'meet me tonight' then we kiss and you know I won't ever tell" ~ I can see you

After high-school, (y/c) managed to solidify a fancy job, one which had many black tie events - rich people being rich

He would always bring you as a plus one, but you were his "friend" his co-workers had no idea you were his BOY"friend"

He had your permission to do that though, most of the people at these events were investors who were older than stonehenge, so they weren't too fond of gay people

But as soon as the event is over, once the door to the fancy car (y/c) can now afford closes he's all over you and vice versa

By the time you two arrive back home, your neck already had hickeys on it, and his top button is undone along with his gelled hair messed up

Your front door barely locks before (y/c) has you up against a wall, kissing up your neck to your lips

Your hands gently undo his neck tie, juxtaposing his rough hands man-handling you, your mouth, your face

"We could let out friends crash in the living room, this is our place, we make the rules" ~ Lover

You couldn't believe the man you'd known for 4 years, had a college crush on and eventually had a fling with would be the man you buy a house with

He was absolutely enamoured by you since that fateful day during finals, he would fantasise about this day

Memories would be made in this house:

Him sneaking up on you while you were baking in the kitchen, he scared you so much that you hit him with the dough

Playing with the whipped cream afterwards, giggling as he links some off your nose - a moment which could only end in one very spicy way

(Y/c) randomly saying he wanted to paint one of the walls purple at 11pm and the two of you driving to a 24h store and painting the wall until 4am - laughing the whole time

The Christmas lights staying up until the end of January, your friends telling you it was bad luck but the two of you wouldn't take them down - for the sole reason that the two of you couldn't find a day you both had time to do it, refusing to do it by yourselves

"Is this the end of all the endings? My broken bones are mending, with all these nights we're spending" ~ King of My Heart

The two of you were close friends, (y/c) had watched you go through every single painful breakup you could ever go through

He subconsciously wished you would break up with your boyfriend everytime you would get with a new one but he'd push those thoughts down for supportive ones for his dear friend

It was late at night, a few weeks after your boyfriend fucked you over again - he was originally your ex which exploited your kind nature, weakling his way back into your life according to (y/c)

Sitting on the hood of his car, you and (y/c) Chat away while drinking WDK, "sweet liquid shit" as (y/c) calls it but he drinks it for you cause you hate all other alcohol

You felt at home, comforted by bring with (y/c), and he felt that this was right, this was how it was supposed to be

That night ended with a kiss, under the moon light, utterly perfect

Or it ended with his car windows steamed up, it's up to you

"Our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you, there is an indentation in the shape of you, you made you're mark on me" ~ Dress

He's always been a possessive kinda guy, always touching you in some way

At a formal event, the two of you wanted to keep the PDA at a minimum, but (y/c) couldn't BEAR not being able to touch you for hours, so he decided the next best think was marking you

You'd never shouted at him louder

Not only did he bite your neck and leave a FAT hickey, but it was in a hard to hide spot

You had to spend an extra half hour getting ready cause concealer and Youtube hacks weren't working

Few people at the event noticed and none of them even asked you, but (y/c)'s ego had never soared higher

Also! Just wanna mention that while I do look at my ask box frequently, chances are requests won't be done unless I really like the idea - sorry!

So yeah that's also why this took forever to be made.

[louellaby]

FORGET-ME-NOT

REPLACED!MC AU

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

W A R N I N G

May contain bad grammar, limited vocabulary, and OOC characters. Please mind that English is not my first language, and it takes a lot of courage for me to post due to my anxiety and paranoia.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

taglist: @books-and-catears

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER I | CHAPTER II | CHAPTER III | LOUE'S LETTER | CHAPTER IV | CHAPTER V | LOUE'S LETTER | CHAPTER VI | CHAPTER VII | CHAPTER VIII | CHAPTER IX | CHAPTER X | LOUE'S LETTER | EPILOGUE

C H A P T E R I

「 The Start of a New Year 」

"MC, are you heading towards the student council room?" You turned around on your heels to find Lucifer standing there in the hall, a folder in his hands, and a smile that recently crept up on his face. "Why don't we walk together? We are going to the same place, after all."

You felt a sense of exhaustion in his voice no matter how much he tried to hide it from you. But you knew him well enough. You were sure that he won't listen to your nagging at this time of day, so you decided to just humour him. "Sure, let's go!"

These past days, Lucifer seemed to be getting better than before. He ate breakfast together with you and his brothers. He made sure to sleep earlier than usual— which was still past midnight, but it was a start, and he spent time with his family more. You couldn't help but think it was your influence at work. In fact, you were sure of it. You knew that the brothers' lives were getting much brighter because of your presence. The reason behind it all didn't matter. You didn't want to think about what happened in the past anymore. Not when it was a sensitive subject for each and every one of you. All you wanted to do was enjoy the moments you have with them for as long as you can. Never in your days would you have thought that something could come between you and those you hold dear.

"Lucifer and MC have arrived, Young Master," the butler named Barbatos announced to the man who sat at his desk, papers scattered in front of him. Diavolo looked up from his work and lit up the moment the two of you came into view. The smile on his face was automatically mirrored on your own. You just couldn't help it— He looked absolutely adorable!

"Lucifer! MC! I'm glad you're both here!"

"I take it my brothers are late again?" Lucifer ignored the prince's enthusiasm, looked around the room, and sighed as he took his seat next to Diavolo's. The latter just chuckled as the former continued to speak, complaining yet again as you expected, "I told them about this specific meeting exactly a week ago, and yet they still managed to be late."

"Yeah, you even reminded everyone in the house. Counting down the days to today." You pointed out, fingers out as to count down from seven to zero, which got you a side-eye glare from the man. You ignored his stare with a smirk creeping up on your face as you accepted the cup of tea Barbatos set down on your place. "Thank you, Barbatos."

After you found your seat on the other table where the rest of the brothers would be seated, Diavolo turned his gaze from you to the man next to him. With his usual smile, he answered Lucifer's question, "Your brothers aren't late, Lucifer, don't worry. You and MC are just early. You know, as usual."

"Yes, it might be as usual for me," Lucifer started and looked at you again, "But not for MC."

"Hey— Wha—"

"Even I thought I was late when I saw them walking towards the student council room... I had to double-check the time."

"Lucifer!"

Diavolo laughed, and Barbatos watched in amusement as you and the Avatar of Pride playfully argued back and forth. Finally, the school bell rang, and the doors to the room opened, revealing six demons who were having their own argument.

"Just give me back my money, Mammon! It's been three weeks— I need it to buy the recent merch for my favourite anime!"

"Wh-Which anime are ya talking about...? This one, or that one.....? Tell ya what, Levi, I'll buy ya that merch myself! Just tell me which one!"

"No! I'll buy it myself, thank you very much! And either you'll just use that money you borrowed from me and say it's not enough so I'll give you more, or tell me I need to pay you back a lot of money for your services, which I don't need!"

"Speaking of money... Satan, have you seen the limited edition makeup that's all in rage right now?!"

"Asmo... How did you get there from money? And no, I haven't. I see no point in asking me."

"What?! But you pass Majolish on the way to the Royal Library! There's no way you couldn't have seen it there!"

"I don't always have to look at Majolish's window whenever I walk past it, you know..."

"But you should!! —And the limited edition makeup isn't displayed in the window. You'd have to go inside the store."

"That's the more reason why I haven't seen it!!!"

"Hey, Belphie, are you alright? You're almost falling over, and you're slightly tripping on your own feet."

"I'm fine, Beel. I'm surprised you can even notice that while you're carrying lots of snacks in your arms and eating them at the same time."

"Yeah, well, I worry about you... and I'm hungry."

Well, from what you were hearing, everything seemed to be the same as every single day. There was nothing new going on with the brothers, and you didn't even realise how that was supposed to be a good thing. Because now the calm before the storm is about to end.

————————————————————————

"What?! New exchange students?!" The brothers shouted in chorus, most of them slamming their hands on the table as they looked in shock at their lord, the Devildom Prince. The man expected their reaction and just nodded along with it.

"Yes, that's right. We've already picked out the students. We just need to write and send them their acceptance letters, telling them what they need to know before they get teleported here."

"Well, I'm glad you've all learned your lesson about randomly teleporting humans to the Devildom just for the programme," you say to them with a sigh and a shake of your head in disagreement to their former way of life. You then watched the brothers as they discussed their arguments about having new students. But you all knew that it had been two years since your year ended, and it was time to finally open up the programme once more. You still wondered whether it was a good idea to randomly pick out students and leave them no choice but to come here whether they like it or not. Seems like that's something you'll need to work on, too, just for the sake of the future exchange students.

"MC, I want you to write the acceptance letter that will be sent out for the new exchange students. You only need two of them; one for the human and one for the angel." Lucifer ordered, passing you the folder he was carrying earlier. It was filled with the new students' information, such as their name, age, home address, and other details that go deeper into their background. In one of the papers about the human, you saw what was supposed to represent a family tree, going far, far back into the past. It seemed like they were trying to make sure they didn't miss any important details; and by the looks of it, they didn't. A high wave of relief washed over you, and you smiled with a nod towards Lucifer's direction.

"Alright, I'm on it." You decided not to argue with the eldest Avatar on the subject. You secretly wanted to write the letters yourself, after all. You wanted it to be a way to somehow connect yourself to them, and writing the letter was your only choice at the moment since you had no other way of reaching out.

As everyone else discussed the details further, you went to work with high hopes.

「 PROLOGUE | CHAPTER II 」

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: A little throwback to one of my first loves. Nobody really fit the bill quite like Sanemi did.

C/W ::: dom!F reader,light bondage, edging, sorta Brat!Sanemi (just a little bit), lmk if I missed anything horrific.

"As I Say"

You stood over his limp, but conscious body. "Are you done yet? Are you ready for me to stop, you little bitch?"

"B-bitch?" Sanemi laughed at your feeble attempt to remain in control of the situation.

"YOU heard me. Now," you bent over and slapped his hard cock.

He hissed and bucked his hips up toward you. "Ffffucck baby."

"NOW, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted my train of thought, shall I continue? Or are you on the verge of tears?"

His eyes got wide. "I don't know why you think you can talk to me like this just because I'm tied u-".

Your hand around his angry red length stopped him from speaking any further.

"That's not how we speak to each other, is it now?" You gave him a little squeeze, which caused him to moan and squirm. "That's right, you need to be punished for your bad behavior, Sanemi."

"P-punished? I'm not a child!"

"Yes, you are! Now you're going to behave and do as I say, or else..."

"Or else what?" He growled and tugged at his restraints. "You know I can get out of these easily!"

"Oh, I'm counting on it. I want you to do exactly what I tell you to do. And if you don't..."

"What?" His breathing became more ragged.

"You'll find out. Now, let's have some fun."

He whimpered as you stroked him firmly but slowly. You were in complete control. His cock throbbed in your hand and you could feel his heartbeat. It was so hot, so hard, so ready for you. But not yet.

"Don't forget, this is a punishment. You're not allowed to cum until I say so."

His eyes widened again and he bit his lip. "I-I won't cum until you say I can. I promise."

"Good. Because if you do, you'll regret it. Now, I want you to lay back and enjoy yourself. Don't move."

He obeyed, relaxing his body and closing his eyes. You continued stroking him, alternating your speed and pressure. He groaned and panted as you brought him close to the edge. You could feel him getting closer and closer. He was so close, you could taste it.

But you knew when he was about to cum, so you stopped touching him and waited, hands clasped in front of your stomach. A sick smile on your face. "Oh, you ... you didn't think I was going to let you cum that easily, did you? Tsk tsk tsk tsk, my naughty boy. 'Nemi 'nemi 'nemi. Huhmmm." You hummed out in a sultry voice.

"Nghhhh! Please! I can't take it anymore! I need to cum!"

"No, not yet. Not until I say so."

"You're evil, you know that?" He gasped out between breaths.

"I know. I know I am. But I know what you need, and I'm going to give it to you." Whispering that against his ear, he struggled once again to get out of the binds. You grabbed his cock again and began stroking him faster and faster, making him arch his back and moan. You could see the veins in his neck popping out, and his chest and stomach muscles flexing. You felt your own wetness pooling at your core.

"Please! Please! I need to cum! Oh god-duh-huh-huh-huh PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE!!!"

You smiled and leaned across his chest. Your tits pressed against him, you whispered, "Now, baby."

With a loud grunt, Sanemi came all over himself and your hand. He thrashed around on the bed, his eyes rolled back into his head, his mouth wide open. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen.

When he finally came back down to Earth, he was panting heavily. You untied him and sat next to him, rubbing his sweaty brow. He turned to you, his eyes half-open and a lazy smile on his face. "That was... wow. I don't know what to say."

"I know. I was pretty evil, wasn't I?" You giggled and kissed his nose.

He shook his head. "No, not really. It was fun. You were in control the whole time. I loved it." He gave you a sleepy wink and then closed his eyes.

"Ok, shove off. I have someone else coming in soon and I have to clean up this fucking mess you left." You joked. He rolled over and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to him.

"E-V-I-L WOMAN." Sanemi said. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Tagging ::: @callm3senpaii

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list, shoot me a message.

*Art found on pinterest*

[draguta]

.a court of fate and fortune | sixteen.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

summary: | book two | lovers separated, powers that won't be controlled, a doomed wedding. with the threat of war looming over prythian, lucien, Y/N, tamlin, and rhysand's inner circle must scramble to find allies and prepare themselves for what is to come. but Y/N only has one aim; to find her way back to lucien, and protect him at all costs.

chapter warnings: smut, 18+, minors dni, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex (p in v)

chapter word count: 4030

a/n: this one is pretty filthy i won't lie to you. enjoy, i hope i make some folk as hot and heavy as i was while writing it.

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Explicitly

The dining room was quiet, despite Tamlin sat in the chair at the head of the table. You found yourself gripping onto Lucien’s arm a little tighter when you reached the bottom step of the stairs and turned left toward the room where dinner would be served.

“It’ll be okay,” Lucien whispered into your ear. “I’m going to be here the entire time.”

Because he knew, without you having to say it, that you were beyond nervous to see your once upon a time brother. You were sure it was written across your entire face, the way you were biting your lip and the inside of your cheek simultaneously, and how your brows hadn’t left a frown since you had departed your bedroom. You offered him a nod, the best you could do, and allowed him to lead you into the dining room.

Tamlin was running a finger along the edge of his glass, but there were no claws in sight, only pensive thought by the looks of things. Likely wondering how, or why, he lost his betrothed but gained back his sister in one fell swoop. You could only pray that he wouldn’t work it out - wouldn’t uncover that you were actually there to spy on him. You couldn’t even feel it in yourself to have an ounce of guilt about it. His head snapped up as you entered the room, and the smile he gave you was one that you recognised from the time before Under the Mountain - before your powers, and Feyre, and Amarantha, and Rhysand. It was almost unnerving, after so long having not seen anything close to it, for it to be on such a full display tonight.

What was even more unnerving was the way he pushed from his chair and strode across the room at your entrance, strong arms pulling you into a hug that made you tense from head to toe. You didn’t know what to make of it, and one glance at Lucien told you that he was just as perplexed as you were. You wanted to crawl and writhe from his embrace, but…

‘You’re a spy now. You have to remain trusted, have to remain on his good side. You need to know his plans.’

So you accepted that hug regardless of how much it made your skin crawl.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” he mumbled, pulling back from you, hands still on your shoulders as he beamed down at you almost proudly. “I was so worried about you. Welcome home.”

Home. This wasn’t home, not anymore. Then again, Velaris wasn’t home either. You didn’t truly know where your home was anymore. With Lucien, you supposed; with Lucien anywhere but here. Yet, you wore that smile, wore that mask of Tamlin’s sister, and you wore it with such ease that it almost came naturally when you replied, “It’s good to be home. I missed you too, brother.”

His hand on your back guided you to your usual chair at the dinner table. As you passed by Lucien, you didn’t miss the curious stare he gave you; if he didn’t yet know that you were playing Tamlin entirely, he was intelligent enough to work it out soon, you were sure.

You watched as Tamlin filled your plate first with haddock and butter sauce and potatoes and asparagus; an honour for a High Lord to serve anyone, he had once told you, even his own sister. So, you took the plate with a gracious ‘thank you’, and accepted the wine that Lucien offered you. Once Tamlin’s and Lucien’s own plates were filled with food, there was a moment of silence, one that you wished would simply swallow you whole entirely.

“It seems far too quiet here now, what with Feyre gone,” you commented, wincing at your own incompetence - perhaps not the best topic of conversation to start with.

“D-Did you see her?” Tamlin asked, sitting upright in his chair. “When you were there? Did you see how they treated her, what they did to her?”

You swallowed a gulp of wine, and plastered a remorseful smile to your lips. “No,” you lied. Lucien’s head all-but snapped in your direction and after a moment he leaned back and rested his cheek on his fist, watching you carefully. “I’m sorry to say that I didn’t. I can only hope that they are treating her better than they ever did me.”

Tamlin’s lips thinned as his grip on his glass became firmer. “What did they do to you?” He ground out.

You glanced down at your plate, being sure to swallow harshly, draw in a deep, shaking breath. “Let us just say that the Night Court has a penchant for manipulation,” you said quietly. “And pain.”

The story that you had been told to tell, had weaved into existence with Azriel. That the High Lord of the Night Court was not a just and good man, but rather a terrorising dictator, one who ruled with an iron fist and took no prisoners beyond those that he would torture. For until you knew what Tamlin’s plan was - until you knew which side he chose to fight on, whether or not he was your enemy or your ally in the upcoming war - Rhysand had to be feared. He had to maintain that mask of darkness and terror. He had to be seen only as someone you wanted to fight alongside, rather than fight against.

Tamlin bared his teeth in anger. “I should kill him outright,” he snarled. “Should kill him for what he’s done to you and Feyre.”

From the corner of your eye you could see Lucien watching you closely and carefully. But you ignored him as best you could, and put all of your strength into the charade that you were upholding. You gripped at your fork as if your life depended on it, and Tamlin seethed enough that you could almost see the rage seeping from his form.

“It was truly terrible there,” you continued. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to be home again, back with you.”

You reached over the table and took Tamlin’s hand in your own, an action that had Lucien offering a rictus grin of confusion beside you. Tamlin squeezed your hand gently. “We too, are glad you’re home,” he breathed. “We will never let him take you again, I promise.”

You pouted out your bottom lip, a move you had seen Mor do on countless occasions when no one would go to Rita’s with her, and you trained it to tremble ever-so-slightly. Shaking your head, you let out another shaky breath, looking up to meet Tamlin’s emerald gaze.

“I truly thought I would never see you again,” you said quietly, turning to throw a quick glance at Lucien. “Either of you.”

“Well, you’re home now,” Tamlin said, offering you a small smile. “How did you manage to escape?”

“I didn’t,” you said, the most truthful thing you had uttered since you had sat down at the table. “I think they just got bored of me after a while.”

“And of your powers, your…condition?” Tamlin asked, clearing his throat as if he too were remembering the last time he had seen your powers in action. You purposefully pinched your brows and glanced down at the table.

“Rhysand found a way to rid me of them,” you lied. “He said it needed to be done.”

Tamlin nodded slowly, and Lucien shot you an amused smile from behind the glass of wine that he was taking a sip from. You in return shot him a glare, a reminder to be careful of what his face spoke - Tamlin couldn’t know that you were lying. That certainly wouldn’t end well for anyone.

“Well, that’s one thing that we don’t need to worry about then,” he said quietly, swirling his wine around in his glass before taking a swig. The momentary pause before his next words seemed to last a lifetime. “About the last time I saw you-”

“It’s okay, Tam,” you interject. “I was out of control, I understand why you did it.”

Another lie.

“Nevertheless,” Tamlin continued with a small nod and a sorrowful smile aimed, not just at you, you realised, but also at Lucien. You narrowed your eyes, glancing between your mate and the High Lord of Spring, “I wish to apologise. I never should have acted so impulsive. This is your home, and you should feel safe here. If I ever made you feel unsafe, sister, I hope that you will accept my deepest apologies.”

You had to admit that you were taken aback; an apology was the last thing that you had expected from him. “It’s in the past now,” you said slowly. “Let’s forget it and move forward.”

“Of course,” Tamlin said, before taking a swig of his wine and inhaling a deep breath; a penny in the air. “And I trust you will help us in any way that you can to get Feyre back to us.”

Penny drops.

“Of course, brother.”

“What was that?” Lucien asked as the two of you paused in the lobby at the foot of the stairs. His hand gripped loosely at your wrist, pulling you back so you were facing him. “I know you didn’t want to see him, and I know you. There’s no way you would be so willing to accept that half-assed apology after what he did. Not to mention saying that your time in the Night Court was terrible? You were the one who told me countless times that you were safe.”

“And you were the one who told me to lie, remember?” You countered, stepping down one stair so that you were eye-level with him.

“About your powers,” he conceded. “To protect you. Not about everything else.”

You sighed, taking his hand into yours and swallowing your dry throat. “I know I shouldn’t have lied,” you said slowly. Could you tell him? Could he know what you really were - a spy sent to infiltrate his High Lord’s court? You trusted him, more than you trusted anyone else in all of Prythian, but you had to be sure he understood. Tamlin and Lucien were so close, even now it would seem, a fact that you hadn’t missed no matter how much it frustrated you. You couldn’t tell Lucien your reasonings, not until you were sure he wouldn’t immediately reiterate them to the High Lord himself. “Would you believe me if I told you that there’s a good reason for my mistruths?”

Lucien narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. “No, I probably wouldn’t.”

You sighed, tugging him a little closer by his hands. He didn’t stop you, peering down at you from under his brow, close enough that your chests were touching and sweet breath kissed at your lips.

“Do you trust me?” You asked. The question hung in the air for just a moment.

“Explicitly,” he replied, his eyes softening slightly.

“Then you trust that I am doing this for a good reason, and that I will tell you that reason when the time is right?” You asked slowly. Lucien pursed his lips slightly, and then smirked, a reaction that you hadn’t been expecting.

“And what will I get in return for keeping your secrets, sweet human?” He asked, and you didn’t miss the fire that blazed behind that amber eye of his. You chuckled as he pulled you closer, the step that you stood on making your lips only mere inches from his.

“Anything you want.”

He growled lowly, and then his lips were crashing against yours, harder and more fervently than they had that afternoon. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and when you moaned slightly in response, he took that as his opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth to mingle with your own. You didn’t part, not even as his hands slid further down to grasp you under your thighs and hoist you up to settle at his waist, your ankles locked at his lower back. Not even as he carried you up the stairs did you break away. Not until you were on the hallway that situated both of your rooms did you pull away, panting for air.

“Can we go to your room, please?” You asked quietly. Lucien’s brow twitched slightly. “I don’t want to go to my room, not when it reminds me…”

Your words trailed off, not that you seemed to have to finish your sentence away. Lucien nodded once, and pushed against his bedroom door. As soon as you were inside and the door was closed behind you, he was pushing you up against it, lips connecting with your own once more.

His tongue battled for dominance, and you gave it gladly; you had told him he could have anything he wanted, and that had not been a lie, even if everything else you had said that night had been. He pushed up against you, and you could feel his hard length pressing into you, a promise of what was to come.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he pulled back and pressed against you once more, his lips trailing down to the column of your throat, eliciting your own moan from you. “I missed you so much. I missed this so much.”

You pulled away, catching his eye. “Let me show you how much I missed you.”

He groaned again, letting your feet slip to the floor. Then you were pushing him, one hand on his chest, toward the bed; when his knees hit the mattress he fell back, only held up in a seated position by his hands leant behind him. His eyes remained trained on you, on every movement that you made, as you slowly lowered yourself to your knees before him, batting your eyes at him every time you caught his gaze. You reached forward, nimble fingers pulling at the buttons and laces of his trousers, and when you pulled them down and his length sprang free, you could feel the heat in your stomach grow to burn with an unrivalled fury. He groaned as the air hit him, and when you wrapped your hand around him he hissed at the contact, throwing his head back in pleasure.

“Shit, it’s been too long,” he mumbled as you moved your hand a few times, testing the waters, smirking when you saw the reaction that it brought. “I’ve thought about this every single day since you left.”

“As have I, my love.” And when you leant down and took his head in your mouth, the moan that he let out was like no other. You swirled your tongue over his tip, swallowing down the bead of his arousal that already lingered there - it was sweet and salty at the same time against your tongue, exactly how you imagined him to taste. When you allowed your tongue to trail down, allowed yourself to take him fully into your mouth, his hips rutted up to meet you, and he hit the back of your throat. You choked ever-so-slightly, something that made him curse beneath his breath, and tears welled in your eyes, but after a moment you grew accustomed to the sensation, one that you’d never experienced with anyone as large as he was before.

You began moving your head in rhythm to his small thrusts and ruts, revelling in how heavy he felt on your tongue, on the small whimpers that he made when you hollowed your cheeks, and ran the flat of your tongue along the vein on the underside of his length. His hand came to tangle in your hair, pushing you further and further each time, and you let him, savouring each and every moment of it.

He pulled out, hands cupping at your cheeks as he dragged you up toward him so you were cradled in his lap. His thumbs wiped at the tears that had formed beneath your eyes, and despite the bliss written into his features, he captured your lips in a heated kiss, tasting himself on your tongue.

“We need to get you out of these clothes,” he said between kisses, “otherwise I may finish before I’m even inside you.”

You giggled, one that you had never heard from yourself before, but as he lifted you again and spun you around, bracing you against the post of his bed, your giggle morphed into a gasp. His fingers trailed delicately along your shoulders until they reached the laces of your corset, and with the ease of someone who had done so one-thousand times - of which you were sure he had - he pulled at the bow, and began ripping the laces from the dress until they fell to the floor, leaving the back of your dress open. When his lips came into contact with your back, trailing along your spine, you couldn’t stop your head from falling back in pleasure, couldn’t help the soft whimpers that fell from your parted lips. He reached the base of your spine, and his skilled hands pulled the top of your dress from your body, letting it fall into ripples on the floor around your feet. Hands on your waist spun you to face him, and when you looked at him, you found his eyes trailing over your entire body, drinking in everything that you had to show, everything that belonged to only him. As he looked back up at you, his eyes were filled with nought but carnal desire. His hands, still resting your hips, pulled you flush against him, his face so close to yours that you could smell the concoction of wine and that apple flavour that was so uniquely his on his breath. How you longed to taste it again. The flash of his smile was visible even in the dim candle light of the room.

“Promise me you’ll never leave me again,” he whispered, breath hot against your lips. “Promise me, please.”

“Only if you promise to never leave me,” you breathed out in reply. His smile grew.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

His lips were colliding with yours once again then, and any other thought outside of that room disappeared. You could only focus on his lips on yours, his hands squeezing at your backside, lifting you up again and laying you down on the bed; his sheets were soft against your skin, but his fingers brushing against your thighs, your waist, your stomach, were even softer.

Your hands worked at his shirt, pulling it up and over his head and throwing it somewhere on the floor; you didn’t pay enough attention to see where. As his hand disappeared for a moment, ridding himself of his breeches, you gasped when he returned and his length fell against your leg. He rutted once against you, and it slid through your folds easily, enough to have you keening for more, back arching against him.

“Lucien, please,” you whimpered, and he smirked against your lips as he caught you in another kiss.

“Once more.”

“Please Lucien,” you whined. “I need to feel you.”

He rutted against you one more time, and then he was inside you, and it felt as if everything in your life was whole again. He stretched to you to the point of pure bliss, to the point that you could never imagine feeling so purely whole again. Both of you moaned as he reached the hilt and paused, simply relishing in that moment of being connected once again, of being together in the way that you knew destiny intended. Even that one initial thrust set you on the course to finishing, and you were sure that pleasure was obvious, because Lucien leaned down, tucking a strand of hair from your face.

“Shall I move, my love?” He asked, and even with your eye screwed shut you could hear the humour and that damned smirk in his tone. “Or is this enough for you?”

His lips caught your neck, sucking and nipping enough to certainly leave a mark the next day, but you didn’t care. Not as you grasped at his back and pushed him closer to you. “For the love of the Cauldron, Lucien,” you whimpered. “Move.”

But he did not. He stayed still, looking down at you, and when you opened your eyes you saw so much love written there, so much longing. He would be satisfied to stay like that, buried inside you, for eternity, you were certain of it. And as much as you would have been willing to do so, you needed more, you needed pleasure, and you needed to feel and be the cause of his pleasure; you had waited long enough.

With every ounce of strength that you had, you wrapped your arms around him and flipped him over so that he was lying on his back. “My love-” he began, but when you rolled your hips his words were lost in a groan of pleasure.

“If you won’t move,” you said between grinds of your hips, “then I will do it for the both of us.”

Your head fell back, and your eyes fluttered closed with the pure bliss - he filled you up perfectly, your hands falling to rest on either side of his head as you began to move, no longer in close circles or back and forth, but rather up and down. The muscles of your legs burnt, but you didn’t care - you could hardly feel it - especially when his hips began to push upward to meet your own, his own groans and grunts and sweet moans mingling in the quiet with your own.

Before you knew it, you were edging closer and closer, so close that you were sure even one look down at your mate would send you over the edge. But then his hands were around your waist and he was pulling you down to the edge of the bed; your feet landed against the wood on shaky legs, but that was forgotten when his tongue came into contact with your centre, lapping one long lick up your heat, enough to make you cry out loud enough for every resident in the Spring Court to hear.

His hand found the small of your back, and he pushed you down so that you were bent over the mattress, ass in the air ready and waiting for him. He didn’t take it slow this time, thrusting into you with such a force that you screamed in pleasure. His hand found your hair, tangling and curling into it as he thrust harder and faster, unyielding and brutal in the very best possible way.

When you finished it was almost overwhelming, your entire body trembling as it crashed into you, ripples of euphoria pulsing through you. “Fuck, Lucien!” Was all you were able to get out. When he felt you clenching around him, felt you fall over that edge he pulled you up and held you tight against his chest, lips ghosting over your neck as you rode out the intensity of your pleasure. Your hands gripped at his arms, clawing at the skin enough to surely leave marks behind, but you didn’t care, and neither did he, not as he thrust the final few times and fell into bliss with you, shooting himself inside you, cursing and moaning your name as he fell.

The pair of you fell forward onto the bed, your breaths heavy. He was still inside you, and he made no move to pull out, not as he pulled your back tight against his chest and kissed his way up your shoulder and neck to your hair. Only when the two of you were recovered did he finally move, sliding up the mattress until his head hit the pillow, pulling you up with him and tucking you under the covers, your head resting on his shoulder.

“I wish we could do that every second of every day,” he breathed out, and you hid your giggle in his chest. He looked down at you, eyes shining so brightly. “I adore you, my sweet human.”

“And I adore you, my emissary.”

Taglist

Complete: | @loveshineslikethesky | @elleclairez | @lostpirateinwonderland | @judig92 | @old-enough-to-know-better73 | @atrashsith | @chanaaaannel |

Lucien Vanserra: | @luna-foxglove | @lumos-barnes | @cumuluscranium | @dreamlandreader | @enrichmenttimeinmyenclosure | @rachelnicolee |

[ruewrites]

Returning Lovesickness Chapter 1

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 2299

Warnings: mild depictions of gore

Summary: Is it really fair to tell Solomon of his suspicions when they both just accepted what they both want probably won't happen? Even more, Asmo is struggling to the possibility himself.

A/N: This will be a two parter. This next gen piece is a p big time skip in the pieces I've posted so far. But none the less, I hope you all enjoy it all the same! I will try to make a little post about how we've pictured magic babies working so stay tuned! This is another story that takes place within the next gen! au that @leviathanswingman and I put together

Next

Asmo could still feel his stomach churning. He just needed to be away for a bit, the magic was making him sick. He was too scared to say anything yet, even though there was little in the way for doubt anymore.  He held down one more wretch before tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

He'd tell Solomon eventually, all he needed was time, and a little more certainty. How could he even risk breaking Solomon's heart even more than he already had? 

It wouldn't be kind.

It wouldn't be fair.

They were finally getting over the idea that it may never happen, that Lilith would forever be their only one. Could he really risk giving Solomon news that would turn out to be wrong? But on the other hand-

"There you are," the rustling of a bush drew Asmo's attention. Barbatos stepped out of the foliage, composed and as calm as ever. Sometimes the other demon reminded him of his husband in certain aspects of their composure: The way in which they both held themselves, the calming tones in which they spoke, how they could both stay so composed under pressure.

It made sense to him why Solomon held a pact with Barbatos.

Solomon and her perfect mind, and his perfect hair, and his perfectly handsome face, that connected to his chest and all those markings-

And of course his marking-

And then straight down his abs to that perfect big- 

“It’s not like you to want time to yourself in the middle of the woods.”

The underlying “Are you alright?” was palpable despite the silence and Asmo wasn’t really sure how to go about answering it. The obvious answer was no, but could he really unload all of his thoughts onto Barbatos?

"I just wanted a bit of change in scenery. I haven't had a lot of time to look at the stars."

Barbatos stepped closer to him and Asmo bristled, "Have you really been that distracted? I only had to ask you both to reorient your focus twice now."

It wasn't like it was abnormal for him and Solomon to be a bit distracted on their missions. There wasn't a single reason Barbatos should be bringing it up. So what if Asmo got lost in those gorgeous stormy eyes, or those nice plump lips, or the way Solomon kissed, or-

"You've been awfully  blissful since you came back from your trip the young master and Lucifer helped organize for you."

Asmodeus froze. Full stop. 

It was one thing for the thoughts to plague his own mind, but for Barbatos to bring it up in such a way? It was a completely different ball game.

There was no need for Barbatos to elaborate on what he was referring to, Asmo knew. 

For as much as Asmo loved to gush over Solomon and talk over almost every single detail of their lives, there were some things he had tried to keep under wraps. Like how he and Solomon had wanted another baby, despite having been used to Lilith spending most of her time at RAD. Of course they still saw her, she came home often. But the desire had seemed to creep up out of nowhere.

They had tried almost everything they could think of, and everytime their efforts had been fruitless. They had been stressed, tired, and frustrated. And maybe… just maybe Asmo had let it slip to Mammon when he had gone to visit his brother and the triplets. And perhaps Solomon had admitted to saying something to Simeon. 

In any case word had gotten back to Lucifer and the next thing he knew he and his husband had been sent off to a nice quiet cabin in the woods, one that Diavolo and Lucifer frequented themselves, with Snow Demonus and small gifts packed away. Asmo had to admit, whatever their plan was, it worked. 

The baby blues had melted away and it had been a wonderful opportunity for him and Solomon to reconnect and just talk. And maybe do a little more than talk-

It had been a while since Asmo had felt so relaxed and playful, longer than he'd like to admit. 

But by the time he returned home, he was feeling better than he had in ages. Perhaps it was just the proximity, perhaps it had nothing to do at all with what Barbatos was maybe suggesting, but he and Solomon had been spending more and more time together.

If Asmo didn't know better, he would say his husband was spellbound.

But he knew better than that, and he knew better than to get his hopes up.

“Can you blame me?” Asmo retorted, “It was sooo romantic, and Lord Diavolo and Lucifer personally let us rent out a cute little cabin they adore! I think it was one of the first lovely little romantic getaways we’ve had in the woods since Lilith left for RAD. At least one in the woods that wasn’t for one of my Darling’s missions.”

Asmo felt himself forcing his normal cutesy mannerisms. His aggression had been up, and his patience was running thin. Which was odd, especially considering that this was Barbatos. Asmo had no good reason to be upset with him, he knew this. In fact, Barbatos was one of the only demons that Asmo would even consider going on missions with after the incident. He trusted Barbatos, Barbatos was his friend. He hadn’t done anything. He was only trying to help, he was only-

When had he gotten so close.

Asmo’s horns itched on his head and his wings ached to curl forward. He had no idea why he felt like he was fighting to maintain control, as if every inch of his body were on fire. He hadn’t felt like this in a long, long time. 

The last time he felt like this was when-

“Lord Diavolo mentioned something about your perfume, yes?”

What?

“At one of his parties, it was the last family get together he hosted at the castle. He said your perfume smelled nice.”

Had he actually put perfume on that night? Honestly, he couldn’t remember, he’d been on his second glass of demonus and trilling at the compliment regardless. But the implication made his throat tighten.

Too close. Barbatos was too close.

Another demon was too close to him.

Someone that wasn’t his Solomon was too close to him.

“It smells like you’re wearing it again.”

Where was his Solomon?

“But that’s just the thing that confuses me-”

Too close. Too close too close tooclosetooclosetooclose-

“You don’t wear perfume in situations like this because it attracts bugs.”

Barbatos placed his hand on his shoulder.

“So there can only be one other explanation.”

Asmo had lost control of himself. He couldn’t tell what was happening around him anymore. He couldn’t register the shock on Barbatos’ face, or that his own demon form had pushed its way forward. The only thoughts he could remember were the ones that appeared as he watched the red trickle down Barbatos’ face. 

How he wanted to bring more of it out, tear him to shreds, rip out his beating heart and hold it in his hands until it slowly came to a stop. He wanted to be covered in gore, bathe in his blood, take what he could as a trophy. 

As he came out of the miasma, he realized what he’d been thinking. Asmo realized that it was his hand print embedded on his cheek and his claw marks from where his nails had caught along the way. As his senses returned to him, there was only one thing that Asmo wanted to do.

He cried.

And cried.

And cried. 

His body heaved with each sob. 

Despite what he had just done, Barbatos still approached him, led him to a fallen log and let him sit down.

“Barbatos, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to-”

“Shhh,” Barbatos hushed him, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully tilting Asmodeus’ face towards him, dabbing under his eyes to dry his tears and clean his now smeared makeup. “I should be the one to apologize. Solomon had informed me of what happened on your last mission with another demon, why you both had only been asking me to accompany. I should have been more considerate.”

Asmodeus remembered it well, being accused by another demon of using his charming abilities. Said demon being upset and accusing Asmo of being a tease, and all in front of Solomon too. The absolute audacity. That would have been bad enough, but they were on a mission, the sorcerer the other demon had been connected to was also there, and they almost failed their mission. Asmo was furious, and he genuinely didn’t know what he would have done if he hadn’t had a monster to tear apart.  

Luckily Solomon had been just as furious as he was, and, after discussion agreed, to closing their circle for the time being. 

Asmo had believed it to be a one time freak event, but with all the evidence lining up in front of him, he had no choice but to believe. 

“I do not wish to upset you, especially considering you’re-” Barbatos looked him up and down and nodded his head  once, “Again.”

Asmo couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, I’m not so sure about that-”

“I think it’s quite obvious.”

Asmodeus felt his heart stop once more, and something started to stir in the pit of his stomach. A something that felt like a swarm of butterflies batting their tiny wings.

Obvious.

“Does Solomon know?”

“I couldn’t bear to break his heart if I were to be wrong-”

“You’re not wrong.”

More silence.

Asmo took the handkerchief from Barbatos and pressed it against the gash on the butler’s face.

“Look what I did to your poor handsome face,” Asmo sighed, tears threatening to sting at his eyes once more, “It’s already bad enough, and the idea of how upset Diavolo and Lucifer will be with me. Oh Ollie probably won’t talk to me for at least a day, or be very uncomfortable around me- I can’t bear it.”

“They don’t have to know,” Barbatos said, lifting his hand to help with the compression, “I won’t tell them, but I do think you should tell Solomon.”

“He’ll give me an earful for sure-”

“I’m not talking about my face Asmodeus.”

Suddenly making eye contact with Barbatos was more than Asmo could bear.

“He should know, it doesn’t have to be tonight, but you should tell him.”

Finally Asmo’s shoulders slumped. Barbatos was right.

“But in my own time?”

“Just don’t wait til the day your little one is here.”

Barbatos was joking with him, and Asmo couldn’t help but crack a smile.

The butler stood and helped him to his feet. He stayed close behind Asmodeus as they walked back to their campsite. The fire was still burning just as it was when he left it, his plate still untouched. Barbatos would be making him eat as soon as he touched base with Solomon. They entered the tent, which, thanks to magic, was much cozier on the inside than the outside. It was rare that he would conjure something like this. It was really only when he needed to bring a quarter of his study with him. 

Solomon's posture straightened as the duo entered and he turned to greet them with a smile on his face. But that smile quickly dropped when he took in their appearances. Before he could say a word, Barbatos lifted a hand.

"Everything's fine, I had just startled Asmodeus, I should have been more mindful." 

Asmo squeezed his arm.

"Even so we wouldn't want that to bruise now would we?" Solomon stood and placed a hand on Barbatos' cheek. Asmo could feel it in his bones, the specific feeling that always radiated from Solomon's magic. But under his current set of circumstances, it made his stomach churn.

"Good as new."

Solomon's face fell again and he felt Asmo's forehead with the back of his hand. His touch sent a mini shock wave through him, one that made his heart flutter and that almost sent him back into  a haze. He leaned into the touch, a soft trill leaving his lips as he did.

"Are you alright Asmo? You look off."

Not yet.

He would tell him. 

Just not now.

"I believe I could be of assistance," Barbatos stepped in, "If I am correct, Asmodeus hasn't eaten dinner yet. I can fix his plate again and bring it in."

"That would be wonderful, thank you Barbatos."

Asmodeus could already feel himself slipping further into Solomon's touch. He was so enraptured with the very idea of his husband, that he didn't notice when they had moved to sit on the bed nor when Barbatos returned with his plate with significantly more food than what had been on it before. 

"Keep your strength up friend."

Asmo could hear the smile in his voice.

Solomon hummed and picked up the fork, "I think, I'd like to feed you, if that is okay my Darling."

And of course, it was more than okay. Barbatos’ food was wonderful on its own, and having Solomon feed him only heightened the experience.

Despite what had happened mere hours ago, Asmo couldn't help but feel content, comfortably snuggled up between his husband and a close friend. His legs entangled with Solomon's as he held Barbatos close. He wouldn't have had it any other way. In fact, the tiniest contest from Barbatos had Asmo almost enter a fit. 

He would tell Solomon about his suspicions at a later time. But for now, he would enjoy the company of their little trio, and the addition that had decided to make their presence known.

[ibetonlosinghuskies]

patience and pleasure pt 4

summary: after the end of their final game together, paige and azzi attend a party. as the night unfolds, their unspoken feelings surface, leading to a pivotal moment that could change things forever.

warnings: fluff, angst, sexual content (not smut), suggestive language.

disclaimer: everything i write is fictional, any and all similarities to real life is not intensional.

word count: 4.4k +

author's note: this is probably my favorite chapter so far.

~flashback to present day~

paige’s pov:

the final buzzer echoed through the stadium, a somber sigh.

the end of our last game.

waves of cheers erupt from the crowd, a tidal wave of blue and white. confetti rained down, scattering across the court.

i should be estatic, this is all we have worked towards for months. but as i stood there, my eyes searched for her.

i know it wasn't like i wouldn't see azzi anymore but it felt like something changed. i was still worried about what she was thinking about earlier. i didn't want things to be awkward between us, not when everything else was already changing.

it comforted me to know that at least things hadn't changed between us on the court. despite being surrounded by people, it felt like it was just the two of us. getting her looks came naturally to me like she was an extension of myself. in these moments, i felt like i had her, our connection evident to the crowd.

however, the game was close. after being down eight points at halftime, azzi stepped up, dropping fifteen points effortlessly. as for me, though, i was a bit distracted. my gameplay was consistent, but my mind was elsewhere.

usually, i can zone in once i step on the court but my god. the hold this girl has on me.

the pounding of the basketball mimicking her heartbeat. the silk of my jersey, the softness of her hands. the heat of exertion, the warmth of her hand on mine.

the more i look, she's all i see. the trophy, the cheers, the victory—all insignificant in comparision to her smile.

i can take off this jersey, and wash away months of practice, but her touch will always linger on my skin.

that probably explains why she was the first one i ran to after we won. finally spotting her across the court, blue and white confetti decorating her hair. she beamed, glowing like an angel.

azzi was the real prize.

pulling her in by the waist, my head resting on her shoulder. her arms wrap around my neck. i wish we could stay like this forever.

"we did it," she whispers into my shoulder, causing a chill to run through me.

i want to tell her that she did it. that she played amazing, brilliant, unstoppable. but i can't find the words.

instead, i just pull her closer.

i hold her for a beat too long, savoring the feeling of her closeness. i can feel her heartbeat against my chest, a familiar rhythm, my favorite song.

i don't want to let her go, to share her with anyone.

i feel her pull back and i surrender.

getting a good look at her, my hands linger on her hips. her sweat giving her a radiant halo, she looks beautiful.

i should say something to her, but before i can speak my teammates pull me into a group hug.

the next couple of hours are a blur, filled with media interviews and photoshoots. after what feels like an eternity, we eventually get a moment alone, azzi and i change silently in the locker room.

"you're going to the after-party, right?" i ask, sounding much too hopeful. i probably won't even go if she's not there.

"why? you looking for a dd, party p?" she questions, flashing me a look.

"if you're offering, i'll take you up on that," i smile, i'm just happy she's going.

"alright, but only if you promise to save me a dance," she shoots back.

my heart flutters at the thought of dancing with her. slow or fast, getting to be close to her again would make my night.

i'd save every dance for her.

"anything for the princess," i quip, wishing i could add my in front of the nickname.

we finish changing and walk to the parking lot, chatting with ease. the air is cool, a stark contrast to the warmth of the locker room. azzi unlocks her car with a click and i jog to the driver's side.

"there is no way i'm letting you drive my car," she cocks her head to the side.

"chill chill, control freak. i'm just getting your door," i pull at the handle, motioning for her to get in.

"what a gentleman," she rolls her eyes before entering.

"i'm getting aux though," i yell as i run to my side of her car.

i connect my phone to her speaker as she reverses out of the parking lot. scrolling through my apple music for a moment before finally deciding on a song: muse by partynextdoor.

i watch her drive, one hand gripping the wheel, the other in her lap. azzi was the better driver out of the two of us, her focused gaze on the road. her expression turns when she finally registers the lyrics of the song, shooting me a suggestive glance.

"jesus bueckers, am i driving you to a party or are we fucking in my car," she laughs.

i wish it was the latter.

"maybe both, if you're lucky baby girl," i tease, giving her my best fuckboy laugh.

"oh, in your dreams," she banters.

that was a truer statement than she knew.

the rest of the drive is a comfortable quiet, city lights flickering through her windows as she drives. a warm breeze carries through her sunroof.

azzi's pov:

she makes it so hard not to overthink her every move. i didn't realize how much of a claim i felt to her until tonight. i can't say i'm not glad we get to share a moment alone before this party.

i sneak a glance at her while i drive, her long blonde hair flowing with the breeze. the night lights from outside softening her features. her slender fingers tapping against my dashboard to the beat of her music.

god, she looked too good to be going to this party alone.

if i couldn't be her date, i should at least look good too. cars flood the street in front of the house so i find a spot a few houses down to park. as soon as i shut the car off, paige reached for the door handle.

"hold up, i need to fix my makeup," i say, reaching for my bag in the backseat.

"here," she says, pulling something out of her bag. her fingers fumble slightly, betraying her usual confidence.

it's my favorite lipgloss. did she buy one for herself?

"forgot your makeup bag, huh?" i mock her, glad i can finally call her out.

a warm blush spread across her face, and she looks away sheepishly.

"shut up," she says so softly i can barely hear her.

"mhm," i hum, uncapping the gloss. i apply it slowly, hyper-aware of her eyes following the movement of my lips.

"maybe i just wanted you to do my makeup," she admits, still not making eye contact.

if she wants my lipgloss so bad, she should just kiss me.

"classic, always finding excuses for me to do things for you," i tease. examining the tube. "this isn't even your shade, weirdo."

"don't think too much about it, fudd," she rolls her eyes, stepping out of the car.

i wanted to pry some more but i didn't want to seem desperate. she stood aside the car waiting for me, before matching my pace.

as soon as we step through the door, the party swallows us whole. an immense mass of bodies, smoke clouding the air, music thumping.

an anxious knot builds in my chest, overwhelmed by the sea of people. i start to pick at my fingers nervously, trying to ground myself.

this has to be some kind of fire hazard right? there are way too many people, i can't even move without bumping into somebody. i feel like i can't even breathe. maybe we should leave. maybe—

my spiraling thoughts come to a screeching halt when i feel her fingers meet mine. paige interlaces our hands boldly, staring at me with those big blue eyes, soft with concern. something in her gaze, tells me i'll be okay. my heart rate slows, matching the steady shift of her thumb stroking my hand.

"stay close, alright," her voice cutting through the noise. she weaves us through the crowd, still holding my hand. i exhale, trying to calm my nerves, focusing on the warmth of her touch.

she walks with such an assertive confidence, i'd follow her anywhere. i hate to admit i'm disappointed when she drops my hand.

she manages to get us to a table, covered by an array of alcohol. i scan the room and finally catch sight of a group of my teammates gathered to the side.

"paige," i point to our teammates. "let's go say hi."

"i'm gonna pour myself a drink, i'll be right there," she responds, grabbing a cup.

i pause for a moment, feeling like a lost puppy. i almost want to wait for her, to cling to her. it isn't until i turn to walk away that i notice how close we were standing together.

"finally, we get a moment with you without paige attached at your hip," ice says, pulling me in for a hug. i just laugh in response.

as i chat with my teammates, i can't help keep my eyes off paige. my mind wanders from our conversation, my gaze tracking her movements.

who was that talking to her?

a tall man leans up against the counter, chatting with her. as she raises the cup to take a drink, he takes a moment to check her out. his eyes lingering in spots that make my blood boil. she takes a sip, lipgloss lining the cup.

my lipgloss. on her lips. for him to stare at.

he says something that makes her laugh, a strand of her blonde hair falling into her face. i feel my body tense watching their interaction. he leans down to meet her eyes, a hand reaching up to brush her hair out of her face.

oh he's not gonna—

"excuse me for a second, guys," i say to the group, without waiting for a response, i walk towards them, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

the guy's expression turns sour, clearly unhappy with my interruption. paige turns, her face lighting up when she sees me.

"oh hey azzi, this is—, " she starts innocently, but before she can finish i cut her off.

"i think ice was looking for you, we should go over there," my voice coming out much colder than i intended.

paige glances back at the group, who aren't even looking in our direction. i feel the confusion on her face, but i don't meet her eyes.

"nice to meet you, let's go," i speak quickly, my words jumbled nervously. i fight the urge to grab her hand as we walk away.

she's not mine, but she's not his either.

i have no right to my jealousy, i knew it wasn't my place. my heartbeat slows from the rush, i avoid her eyes shamefully.

i pray she doesn't read the envy on my face.

how could i explain myself to her? tell her that i don't want anyone else touching her? that i want it to be my hands in her hair? my words making her laugh?

i feel her eyes wander my face, questioning. when i finally look up at her, she just stares, looking more concerned than mad.

"you good, az?" she questions, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

before i can respond kk is pulling us back to the group, "okay lovebirds, you can stare at each other later. truth or dare time."

paige rolls her eyes at the comment, shoving her playfully and greeting the rest of the group. taking a seat around the table, the group banters.

"oh good somebody found y'all. i swear i turn my back and you disappear," ice laughs, taking a sip from her drink.

"okay y'all, i'll start, " kk interrupts, a bit too excited.

they go a few rounds, exposing secrets and taking enough shots to make me feel sick just looking at them.

paige's pov:

i laugh at the group's ridiculous dares, finally loosening up a bit. i'd taken a few shots, a sweet hum running through my veins, calming my nerves.

that is, until it's my turn again.

"paige," ice says dramatically, "truth or dare?"

"truth," i respond, not wanting to get caught up in a stupid dare.

"who was your first love?" she asks innocently, unaware of the implications of her question.

my eyes instinctually flicker to azzi, my breath becoming shallow. my mind races at the thought of her. the answer was obvious.

"i...uh—" i struggle to find the words, "just give me the damn shot," i surrender.

"coward," ice mutters under her breath, passing over the bottle.

"i got it," azzi nods at ice, taking the bottle from her hands. she's been so quiet all night, her voice startles me. i'm grateful for the excuse to look at her.

she stands confidently, walking over the my seat. my attention fixed on her movements. she towers over me, i tilt my head back slightly to meet her eyes.

my heartbeat pounds so loudly, i'm almost surprised she can't hear it. her long careful fingers unscrew the lid of the bottle. the subtle flex of her forearms, sending chills through my body.

god, the things i'd let her do to me from this angle.

seeing her like this, outside of my daydreams, felt unreal. azzi had always looked like an angel to me but tonight her beauty surpassed anything i've ever seen before.

"open," she demands. her voice still sweet but this time also low and smokey.

does she know what she's doing to me?

she presses the cold bottle to my lips, a shocking contrast to the blood-rushed heat of my admiration. she looks down at me, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. her voice echoes through my head.

i part my lips, hungry for her. instinctually, i lick my lips, watching her eyes follow my tongue.

her cold gaze pierces through me. i feel vulnerable under her stare, knowing she sees the desperation in my eyes.

my mind races. a million thoughts of her flooding my mind. her fingers, her lips, her voice. i imagine myself parting her legs the same way she parted my lips. the chill of the bottle against my lips, imagining her fingers down my throat.

azzi tilts the bottle carefully, her eyes flashing to my lips. i wish we were alone, that i could pull her down to me, taste her instead of this cheap vodka.

i'm sure she's sweeter.

"swallow," she instructs, her free hand coming up to hold my chin.

i melt into her touch, my eyes flutter closed for a moment, overwhelmed by her contact.

i just want to be good for her.

all of this feels so surreal. i force my eyes open, meeting her gaze as i swallow quickly and hard, desperate to please her. the alcohol burns down my throat, but i barely notice. all i can focus on is azzi—the warmth of her hand, the chill of her stare, the sharp breath she takes as she watches.

i stare, vodka spilling down the side of my chin, smiling like an idiot, intoxicated from her touch.

her brown eyes soften, clearly satisfied by my obedience. she reaches a thumb to wipe the alcohol.

she's still so sweet, even in moments like this.

azzi steps back, her hand falling from my face. the loss of her touch stings and i want to beg her for more.

the moment ends, interrupted by a chorus of teasing laughter and shouts from the group.

"she just made you her bitch dude," kk laughs, poking my side.

"shut up," i stumble over my words, failing to regain my composure.

the game starts to wind down after that, the energy shifting to the makeshift dance floor.

"alright, i think that's enough secrets for one night," ice stands from the table, reaching for her phone. "time to dance this alcohol off."

i remain seated for a moment, still dazed from azzi's touch. i can't take my eyes off her as she moves, her body swaying in a way that renders me breathless.

i feel paralyzed by the motion of her body, consumed by my thoughts of her. i lean against the table, sipping my drink slowly, trying to build the confidence to dance with her.

even in the dim lights of the party, she looks captivating.

i watch her dance for a few songs, my fingers swirling the rim of my cup. she's magnetic, with just a simple dance. i take another sip, the taste doing little to soothe the ache of my desire for her. her eyes meet mine for a moment, and i choke on my drink.

kk comes over and nudges my shoulder. "come on, p. please tell me you plan on dancing with her eventually, right?"

"i...um, yes. eventually...yeah," i stammer out a response.

"whatever you say, p boogers," kk shakes her head. "better late than never."

i hate to admit it but she's right. i take a deep breath before finishing my drink. already too intoxicated to taste it, i pour another. swallowing it whole, my eyes never leaving her.

her movements pull me in and i take my first unsteady step, almost tripping over myself. my thoughts grow sluggish, realizing that i've had one too many.

she notices me approaching, her face brightening. she scans me briefly, clocking my drunken sway.

azzi laughs, warmth softening her expression. "took you long enough," she blinks slowly.

her voice is like in lullaby to my nerves, coating my thoughts in a fuzzy haze. "you said—," i stammer, "you owe me a dance," my words coming out much more jumbled and slurred than i expected.

without waiting for her response, i impatiently take her hand and pull her towards me. our bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, electricity coursing through my veins under her touch.

we start to move, finding a slow rhythm. my drunken confidence causing me to rest my hands on her hips, a bit lower than usual. azzi's arms drape my neck, her fingers coursing through my hair gently.

how am i supposed to survive this?

as the beat picks up, so does the tension between us. azzi turns suddenly, pressing her back against my front. my breath hitches at the contact, my hands instinctually gripping her waist tighter.

her movements are fluid, and sensual, drawing me in with every sway. it takes every ounce of self-control i have not slap her ass. instead, i lean in, gripping her hips tighter, trying to stifle my lust.

"you're killing me, fudd," i whisper, my lips brushing against her ear.

i feel her laugh, the vibration traveling through her body to mine. she turns her head, her lips dangerously close to mine.

just a little closer...

"what's running through that mind of yours, bueckers?" she flirts, biting her lip, leaning in even closer.

how could i even begin?

the softness of her lips, the scent of her hair, the friction of her hips. i wanted her closeness, her smile, her laugh. i take a long blink, imagining the taste of her skin, the sounds she might make if i touched her just right. i say all of this with my eyes, blowing shaky breath onto her cheek.

i wanted her.

but then, as we lock eyes, my thoughts shift. i imagine waking up next to her, sunlight peaking through her curls. i picture holding her during scary movies, her hand gripping my bicep. kissing her in the rain, taking her out to dinner, bringing her flowers. i see myself reading her favorite book, doing anything to make her smile.

i wanted her, not just as something to have, but something to keep.

"trust me, you don't wanna know," i say back, trying to hide my affection.

"maybe i do," she tilts her head to the side, batting her eyelashes.

suddenly, someone bumps into us, halting my thoughts. azzi takes a step back, her eyes wide and filled with emotion i can't quite place.

"i...i need some air," she says, her voice uneasy.

before i can stop her, she's weaving through the crowd to the door. i'm left alone in a sea of people, drowning under the weight of our almost-kiss.

what just happened?

azzi's pov:

what was i thinking?

the cool night air hits me sharply, my eyes glued to the floor. i lean against my car, my heart still racing from what almost happened.

so much for "keeping it casual."

i've spent years building walls, guarding my heart from getting too attached. it wasn't like i didn't trust paige, i was just paralyzed by the fear of losing her forever. i can't risk our friendship, everything we've built together.

what if it doesn't work out? what if it all falls apart?

my throat tightens with emotion, overwhelmed by the thought of not having her in my life.

the sound of the door opening jolts me back to reality. without looking up, i know it's her.

she staggers toward me drunkenly, her voice uncertain and sympathetic. "azzi," she calls out to me.

i turn to face her, fidgeting with my fingers anxiously.

once she sees the tears in my eyes, she takes a step closer. "are you okay? i'm sorry if i... if that was too much in there."

i shake my head, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, "no, it's not your fault...i'm just—”

scared, terrified, of how much i want this. of how easily i could fall for you.

but i don't say that. instead, i blink away the tears. "i just get overwhelmed in crowds, you know?"

paige stares at me, examining my expression. she knows there's something more there but she doesn't pry.

"we never finished our dance," she says, looking genuinely disappointed.

"oh there's always next time—" i start but before i finish paige taps her phone and turns up the volume.

she was playing our song. the same song she played dancing in my kitchen many autumns ago.

the recognizable melody fills the air, and my heart aches. memories of that night flood my mind- paige's laughter, her soft hands holding my face, the way she'd do anything to make me smile.

i guess some things never change. she's still that same girl, trying to make everything better with a dance and a smile.

"paige, you don't have to—" i start, but i quiet when she grabs my hand.

"one dance," she pleads, looking just as sweet and vulnerable as she did that night. "please azzi."

i know i shouldn't, this will only make things more complicated. but i can't resist her—i never could.

there was something special every time we touched. something beautiful, something terrifying.

i step into her arms, and we start to sway. the parking lot becoming a dance floor, the streetlight our spotlight. paige pulls me even closer, her breath tickling my neck.

"i've missed this," she mumbles, "missed you." i can smell the alcohol on her breath, but the sincerity in her voice makes my heart flutter.

i close my eyes, overcome with emotion. "i've always been here, you know that."

paige pulls back, her expression growing serious. "no, you don't understand. i miss you. even when you're right next to me." her eyes scan my face, gauging my reaction.

"paige i—" i start but she cuts me off.

"no, i need to say this. i want everything with you. i don't know who i am without you." her words blend like the lyrics of a song.

i try to stop her again but she continues. "i see you in every beautiful thing. you're so damn pretty azzi." her movements reflect her drunken state, but her eyes convey a deep clarity. she means it.

"you make me feel human," she pulls me in closer, her voice shaky in my ear.

i should say something to her. tell her she's the best part of me. the only part that matters.

"paige, you're drunk," i say reluctantly. the hurt on her face is evident. she shakes her head, her blue eyes welling up in tears.

she grabs my face, insistent on locking our eyes. "please," she pleads, tears rolling softly down her cheeks.

"you're everything to me, azzi," paige stammers, her voice breaking mid-sentence.

god, why does she have to do this now? when she's like this?

"i can smell the vodka on your breath," i say, closing my eyes, her breathe tickling my face.

"i love the way your dimples show when you laugh. the face you make when you're deep in thought," her voice sounds desperate, needy. she's begging for me to hear her, and part of me wants nothing more but to listen.

i love your laugh too. the way i always catch you staring.

"you can barely stand straight," i point out, trying to ignore the way my heart melts at her words.

please paige, don't make me hope. don't make me believe in something that might disappear in the morning.

her tears stream freely now, she closes her eyes. "i love how passionate you are in everything you do." she sniffles, her voice uneven. "i love how much you care for everyone," she continues.

i learned that from you. my sweet girl.

"you won't even remember this tomorrow," i say weakly, fighting back my tears. my restraint weakening with every word she says.

please remember, please tell me you want this too. when you're sober. when i know it's real.

"i'll remember everything. the way you looked at me, holding your face, the scent of your perfume," her words slurred but urgent.

i'll remember too paige, it'll haunt me.

"i think i'm in—"

don't say it. if you say it i won't be able to pretend anymore.

"don't, paige," i finally cut her off sternly.

the rejection in her eyes is more than i can take. but i stand my ground, afraid that if i let myself believe her words, there would be no going back. no matter how much i want to.

i want to believe you. i want to believe you so badly it hurts.

she drops her hands defeated, warm tears running down her cheeks. i take her face in my hands now, leaning in to kiss her forehead softly. i linger for a moment too long, aching to soothe her, to tell her i feel the same.

i'm sorry paige. i'm so sorry.

i let out a trembling breath, "let me take you home."

[deermrpotter]

What Came Before Won’t Count Anymore

If anyone had told James Potter during his first year that he would be going out on a date with Lily Evans, he would think they were crazy.  If the same person had told him that during fifth year, he would scoff and tell them that obviously he would be–because who could resist the Potter charm?  And if it had been mentioned to him again last year, he would laugh at the preposterious idea.  After all, Lily had just been an infatuation during his fifth year.  His sixth year saw him in a relationship with a girl a year his senior, and he was happy with her.

Yet, standing in the boy’s dorms and tugging at the hem of his jumper, James Potter felt the impossible was here.  It had taken him three months of getting over a breakup and two and a half months of doing rounds with Lily to finally get up the courage to ask her out once more.  A time to which she finally responded in the affirmative.  Now, standing in front of a mirror, the moment of truth was drawing closer.  He had already changed twice, gelled his hair, messed it up, gelled it again, and was now in the process of messing it up a second time.

Sighing, James figured that it was going to be about as good as it was going to get and walked away from the mirror.  Grabbing his coat and scarf, he passed his friends on the way down to the common room where he’d agreed to meet Lily.  His friends had opted out of Hogsmeade today.  After all, they had told him.  They knew ways to sneak out of the castle, so they could go whenever, and they were seventh years.  The magic of the town–figuratively, not literally–had worn off and they claimed to have other things to do.  Namely, James had figured, sleep.

So, he slipped his coat on and sat down on one of the couches in Gryffindor’s common room.  His leg started to bounce up and down as he waited for the familiar head of red hear sweep into the room and he wondered if maybe he didn’t have time to change his jumper just one more time.  But, as he spied Lily, all thoughts of his clothes vanished and he stood up.  Walking over to her, James grinned, but couldn’t find anything to say.

Which was stupid.  It was Lily.  They’d known each other since they were eleven and spent practically every night together working on homework and doing rounds.  But his mind was blank.  Did he compliment her?  Did he start with a simple greeting?  Did he just start walking and hope she followed him?  The possibilities were endless and James realized with horror just how horribly out of practice he was with the whole first date thing.

In the end, he decided to go with the all-three-approach, his words coming out too fast and jumbling together when he spoke.  “Hey,Lily.  Youlooknice.  Areyouready?  Alright,let’sgo.”

[prcngsxpctter]

What Came Before Won’t Count Anymore || James & Lily || November 19, 1977

If anyone had told James Potter during his first year that he would be going out on a date with Lily Evans, he would think they were crazy.  If the same person had told him that during fifth year, he would scoff and tell them that obviously he would be--because who could resist the Potter charm?  And if it had been mentioned to him again last year, he would laugh at the preposterious idea.  After all, Lily had just been an infatuation during his fifth year.  His sixth year saw him in a relationship with a girl a year his senior, and he was happy with her.

Yet, standing in the boy’s dorms and tugging at the hem of his jumper, James Potter felt the impossible was here.  It had taken him three months of getting over a breakup and two and a half months of doing rounds with Lily to finally get up the courage to ask her out once more.  A time to which she finally responded in the affirmative.  Now, standing in front of a mirror, the moment of truth was drawing closer.  He had already changed twice, gelled his hair, messed it up, gelled it again, and was now in the process of messing it up a second time.

Sighing, James figured that it was going to be about as good as it was going to get and walked away from the mirror.  Grabbing his coat and scarf, he passed his friends on the way down to the common room where he’d agreed to meet Lily.  His friends had opted out of Hogsmeade today.  After all, they had told him.  They knew ways to sneak out of the castle, so they could go whenever, and they were seventh years.  The magic of the town--figuratively, not literally--had worn off and they claimed to have other things to do.  Namely, James had figured, sleep.

So, he slipped his coat on and sat down on one of the couches in Gryffindor’s common room.  His leg started to bounce up and down as he waited for the familiar head of red hear sweep into the room and he wondered if maybe he didn’t have time to change his jumper just one more time.  But, as he spied Lily, all thoughts of his clothes vanished and he stood up.  Walking over to her, James grinned, but couldn’t find anything to say.

Which was stupid.  It was Lily.  They’d known each other since they were eleven and spent practically every night together working on homework and doing rounds.  But his mind was blank.  Did he compliment her?  Did he start with a simple greeting?  Did he just start walking and hope she followed him?  The possibilities were endless and James realized with horror just how horribly out of practice he was with the whole first date thing.

In the end, he decided to go with the all-three-approach, his words coming out too fast and jumbling together when he spoke.  “Hey,Lily.  Youlooknice.  Areyouready?  Alright,let’sgo.”