#she’s yanking on my shirt so he looks kinda silly

[mylilplanet]

another child bewitched by Steve Harrington

[crushribbons]

oh hey… it’s me again (maybe you know who i am… perhaps a certain request about best friend seb might ring a bell). since it’s october i was thinking i should request this fantasy of mine where us and seb go to a halloween party together (as friends, you know how it be) and they start getting drunk and sebastian starts to tease us a bit. one thing leads to another... w/ dirty talk. it might be good to add that seb is dressed as the devil and we dressed up as an angel *evil laughter* PLS AND TY

the way i sprunt to my laptop 🏃🏼‍♀️ YOU ALWAYS DO ME SO RIGHT BESTIE...

𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖚𝖇

summary: All Hallow's Eve brings out the evil streak in Sebastian Sallow.

warnings: 1.6k words, SMUT (18+), brief mentions of penetrative sex, angel/devil costumes, kinda religious ment?, fem reader/oc

a/n: i have no defense for this xx laney

Slosh.

“Ugh.”

Amber liquid splashed out of her goblet and onto her chin, and she recoiled at the unexpected sting of the liquor. The Ravenclaw couple that had muscled past and jostled her hadn’t noticed a single thing, too consumed in finding a free boys’ dormitory, presumably to study for that Potions exam they had next week. Their giggling made Sebastian roll his eyes.

“Children,” he muttered into his own glass of butterbeer. He looked over at her and saw she was trying to wipe the firewhisky from her face with only her fingers and began fumbling around his jacket. Producing a cream handkerchief, he passed it to her, and she sullied it with abandon. Her face once more clean, she frowned at the handkerchief as she handed it back to him.

She asked, “Couldn’t find a red one?” and Sebastian chuckled. He was clad in a borrowed, bright crimson ensemble of Weasley’s, though it far surpassed the typical vibrancy of the Gryffindor colors. 

It had been difficult enough for her to talk him into trekking up to the Ravenclaw common room just before midnight, let alone to convince him to actually wear a costume. “Come now, it’s All Hallow’s Eve, you have to wear something fun!”

“Well, what are you wearing?” he had asked, sourly, trying to look disinterested in the conversation and the tome he was flipping through.

“I found this old, white, sort of…” She’d scrunched up her nose and tried to find the right word to describe the gown she’d found shoved into a chest in an empty classroom one day. “Princess-y sort of thing. And I think I can cast an illuminating charm on the silver bangle Grace is lending me, and make it hover above my head…any guesses?” “Heavenly,” Sebastian had hummed. Her stomach twisted. 

And when he’d met her in the Entrance Hall that night, skipping lightly down the stairs in his red suit, ridiculous pitchfork in hand and some conjured horns twisting out of the top of his head, it had done several somersaults in a row. Fuck, she had thought, he shouldn’t look that nice, he really shouldn’t.

As the party continued raging around them, tipsy teens struggling to hold their alcohol shouting loudly over one another and the silly music playing on the phonograph, she tried to keep the glances she snuck at Sebastian surreptitious. She’d drunk too much already, she knew she had, but her lips were itching to say something stupid, so she busied them with another sip of whisky. Sebastian’s nose and cheeks were a light pink that was no doubt brought on by the few drinks he’d already had, and the portion of his chest she could see atop his vest, covered in light curls of chestnut hair, was flushed as well. Gods damn him, why hadn’t he worn a shirt underneath the suit? 

“Very risqué of you, you know,” she said, and before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and brushed a finger over his exposed collarbone. An electric shock coursed through her finger when she made contact and she yanked her hand away. Behind them, Amit Thakkar plunged his head into the icy bowl of water that he’d thrown several apples into. She hoped vaguely someone would pull him out before the lightweight drowned.

“Couldn’t I say the same of you?” he replied, but his voice was an octave deeper than she was used to, and when she met his eyes, she swore she saw flames spark to life. “You’d think I’d be used to extreme temperatures, being who I am, but bloody hell…you’re fucking blistering.” Seb tapped his glass against the side of his head, indicating the small devil’s horns, and ran his tongue across his upper teeth in a way that suggested he had a matching set of fangs. It made her knees knock together, even though she was seated. 

Drunk, he’s just drunk, that’s all, we both are. Still, the word “blistering” stuck to her just as Sebastian’s eyes did while she fidgeted from the tightness of her cherubic garb. And friends can flirt as much as they want when they’re drunk, can’t they?

She searched for something witty to say, but all her ideas went out the window when Sebastian leaned forward in his armchair so their legs were touching and said, “Want to go bob for apples?” A thousand horrible and corny lines thundered through her head and she clamped her jaw tight so nothing like “I can think of something else I’d rather get my mouth on” slipped out. 

“No, I just want another drink,” she said, raising her voice so she could be heard over the din around them. “I’m starting to be able to think straight.” Sebastian grinned and nodded. He stood and she tried to avert her eyes from the inch of bare stomach she got to see when his vest rode up. Tried to. Sebastian grumbled something about having to wrestle the drinks away from the mad scientist brewing concoctions behind the massive end table that had been designated as the bar. 

She watched as he slunk away through the crowd and silkily slid up to the bar, swiping an untouched bottle of firewhisky while Garreth’s lab-coat-clad back was turned. He waved it in triumph across the room at her and a flare of courage allowed her to raise her index finger and crook it towards herself, mouthing “Come here, then.” Sebastian’s eyes went as large as the jack-o-lantern on the table next to her, and he practically tripped over a clump of Gryffindors on the ground playing spin the bottle as he fought his way back to her.

“Pour me a shot,” she instructed when he stood over her with the whisky. One more and I’m going to kiss this man, I really a–

Sebastian had other ideas.

He clamped the cork in his back teeth and ripped it out with a pop! “Open up, angel.” And before she could protest, the cold, glass neck of the bottle was slotted against her lips and he was tilting it forward, looking down at her with hazy eyes and a smirk. The whisky left a trail of flames down her throat that she didn’t notice, though her eyes watered. When she choked a little on the end of the shot, Sebastian pulled the bottle off, groaning as he did so, “Fuck me, I didn’t mean for that to be so…” 

Her breath caught in her chest. He turned away from her and took a swig from the bottle himself, and if he thought she didn’t notice the way he adjusted his trousers, swearing again under his breath, he was drunker than she was. Dropping back into the chair across from her, he tried to recover by shakily laughing.

“You’re going to lose your halo for that, little cherub.” “The devil made me do it, though,” she pouted back in a tease, but her fingers dug into the flesh on the top of her thigh in an attempt to distract herself from the arousal growing between her legs. As if matters couldn’t get worse, Sebastian huffed and set the bottle down before unbuttoning his vest. He mumbled that it was hot, really hot in here, but she didn’t hear a word of it, too invested in ogling him shamelessly, the same way he’d been eyeing her all evening. 

They both stared at each other for a good while, the noise from the party fading into nonexistence the longer they did so. Consequences suddenly seemed like something to be worried about at a later date. “What are they playing over there?” she asked, leaning around him to look at the Gryffindors Seb had almost trampled a minute ago.

He cleared his throat with difficulty. “Uh, spin the bottle, I think.”

“Oh!” She knew that already. Was very familiar with the game. “And what’s that?”

Ten minutes later, her dress lay, discarded, across some poor second year’s bunk, and Sebastian was mouthing his way from her neck down to her bare shoulder and her fingers were tangling in his hair while they lay on the cold ground. “Seb,” she gasped. Her hands met the horns on the crown of his head and she would have laughed, if his cock hadn’t pressed against her stomach, allowing her to feel how huge he was. As he pulled away, she saw that a pearl of pre-cum had been left behind, to decorate her as his.

“You’re so fucking sweet, perfect,” he muttered, grinding his hips down onto hers and making them both hiss and moan. “Almost a shame to corrupt this innocent little angel, but someone’s gotta do it, hm?” He reached over to the empty whisky bottle on the ground next to them and gave it a lazy spin. It wobbled for a few seconds then stopped, pointing aimlessly at a corner of the room. “Look at that. My turn again.” She squealed in delight as he once more attacked her mouth with a searing kiss that grew heavy and hot. They both tasted like whisky and sweets and it was making them even dizzier than they already were. “Seb,” she choked out once again. “Fuck me, please, just get inside me.” His hands were running up her legs, rough fingertips sending bolts of lightning through her body. Ever the tease.

“Christ,” Sebastian blasphemed with a grin. She let her head loll back while he kissed his way down her breasts and stomach, the hard bulge in his pants grinding onto her wet cunt. “I just want to ruin you. But I am having quite a bit of fun watching you squirm underneath me.” She whined. It had no effect on him. 

When his cock slipped into her, they both gasped. It hit a delicious, spongy spot inside her that made stars burst across her vision. He waited less than a second for her body to adjust to him before he was fucking her ruthlessly, sweat rolling down his forehead and off the end of his nose onto her. “You’re going to have to beg to be let back into heaven after this, my cherub. But, shit–” The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the room, filth permeating the air. “–you feel too fucking good for this to be a sin.”

masterlist

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Slow and Steady

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Notes: This was requested twice, once with Buck and once with Eddie and imma do both lmao

P. S: YEAH SORRY I DIED BEFORE FINISHING THIS

“Oh my god Eddie!” You toss your book down, get up from the couch, and run over to the door where Buck is helping him walk in 

“What happened??” 

“Trust me! It’s way better than it looks!” Buck tries to reassure you as he guides Eddie to the bedroom, you rush ahead of them and push the covers back and he dumps Eddie on the bed, Eddie rolls over with his face planted in the blankets and giggles 

He actually giggles 

“Buck?!” You gesture to your boyfriend on the bed and he sighs 

“Okay. Don’t freak out” 

“It’s a bit late for that!” You cross your arms and Eddie reaches out for you 

“You’re so pretty when you’re mad” he sighs dreamily and you nod your head

“Thank you, baby, Evan?” 

“Damn she said your name” he rolls back over and Buck rolls his eyes 

“He uh- well he kinda fell off the ladder at work and-“

“He what?!”

“That lady was not very nice” Eddie pouts and you pinch the bridge of your nose 

“It wasn’t that bad of a fall I swear!! Just you know uh twobruisedribsandapossiblefractureinhisarm. Anyway I have to go back now so-“

“Evan Buckley!” 

He literally runs from the room as you’re left spluttering, Eddie is currently trying to yank his shirt off his head but he just knocks himself over 

“I left his discharge papers on the table I love you guys I’ll be back after my shift bye!!” You hear the front door slam and you stomp your foot 

“Buck!!”

“I don’t think he’s coming back” 

You turn to Eddie who’s got his shirt wrapped around his face and his pants halfway off 

“Yeah I don’t think so either”

After getting Eddie to just sit still you manage to go back to the dining room for the discharge papers. He’s got two bruised ribs and a fracture in his arm that they’ve put a cast on. He’s been given enough meds to knock out an elephant and after a round of being absolutely fruit loops, he should pass out. He’s also got a bottle of more painkillers to be administered every 6 to 8 hours depending on the pain 

“Well, at least he’s not dead” 

“Who’s not dead” Eddie is standing in the doorway or rather slumped against the wall about to fall over 

“Eddie!! You promised you’d stay in bed!” You gently put your arm around his waist and guide him back to bed and he whines

“I tried!! I promise I tried, but I just- I missed you” 

“You missed me huh?” You kiss his nose and he nuzzles against your hand stroking his hair 

“Come take a nap with me?” 

You sigh as he shuffles over and pats the spot next to him. You crawl into bed and pull the covers over you both and he lays his head on your chest, wrapping his arm carefully around you 

“Man I see why you like this” He purrs and you giggle, running your fingers through his hair 

“Shut up and go to sleep” 

“Mmm yes ma’am”

“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly as you come into the bedroom and Eddie looks over at you, grimacing a little 

“Okay I spose… fuck this hurts” He holds his side and you come over and put your hand on his forehead, smoothing his hair back slowly 

After he’d fallen asleep you waited for a bit before getting out of bed and getting things cleaned up a bit. You made yourself lunch and got dinner prepped because you weren’t sure what dealing with medicated Eddie was going to be like but you were absolutely sure dinner wasn’t going to be easy without some help 

“I know… Do you want more meds? It’s about time to take them” 

“Maybe” he takes your hand and kisses your fingers, holding them to his chest 

“I’m sorry I scared you. I can’t remember coming in but I know it scared you” 

You smile a little “ I accept your apology… you were pretty freaking cute… kinda clingy”

He chuckles and shakes his head “I’m sorry for who I am on pain medication”

“It’s okay, I really like silly Eddie. He should come out more often” you tease and he squeezes your hand a little

“Shut it” 

You lean forward and kiss him softly “I really was worried” 

“I know… it wasn’t too bad of a fall though”

“You have two bruised ribs and a fractured arm. You’re not Superman” 

“Okay, But they could be broken. Besides, I’m your hero baby. I’m definitely Superman”

You narrow your eyes at him and he grins widely, pulling you into him more 

“Okay okay I’m kidding, sheesh” He manages to maneuver you onto his hips and you cross your arms 

“Where is this going?” 

“Oh honey, I know you can feel where this is going” He slides his hand down to your hip and you giggle and bat at his hand 

“Eddie you’re hurt. We’re not-“

“Please? I… I need you” He says it quietly and you look at him, he seems so serious right now. 

“Eddie?”

“I just need you okay? I don’t- I’m not ready to talk about it” 

“Okay” 

You pull your shirt over your head and toss it to the other side of the bed, he watches you intently as you move off of him for a second and pull off your lounge shorts. He sighs softly at the sight of your bare cunt and reaches out for you. His hand strokes down your thigh slowly in anticipation and he grins 

“Kiss me” 

You get back onto him and lean forward, putting your hands on the sides of him instead of on his chest, and kiss him slowly, his tongue finds yours battling for dominance but not having his usual desperation behind it, no it’s all slow and sensual and loving 

He wants to make love to you 

He holds your hips with one hand, sighing when his cast gets in the way of holding you like he wants to. You smirk and lay it across his chest carefully 

“You have to be careful” 

“I really don’t want to be” 

“Too bad” You reach down and pull his cock from his boxers, stroking slowly before you lean down to kiss him again. He traces the shape of you with his fingers, starting from the curve of your cheek down to your hips, His fingers trace lightly over your jawline and over your collarbone, he pulls away to breathe and instead kisses the tip of your ear, whispering how deeply his body craves yours 

“Te Quiero” 

His hand glides down your body, exploring your plush curves and teasing your nipples, you feel a shiver trail down your spine as he rolls the little nubs between his fingers, watching them harden 

“Te necesito” 

His fingers flow down to your thighs, so soft and beautiful to him. He follows the shape of them, teasingly drawing little shapes on the inside of them until he reaches the warm apex of your thighs 

“Te Amo” 

He slips a single finger inside you, touching you slowly and coating it in your slick. You’re so gentle with the way you lay your head on his chest, moaning softly into his skin. 

You squirm with anticipation as he slips another finger in, working you open at a leisurely pace. He’s in absolutely no hurry right now, no quickies in the corner of the station, no eagerly devouring your wet pussy in his backseat. He raises an eyebrow at the frustrated little huff you let out against his shoulder 

“Something the matter?” 

“Y-you’re tea-teasing” Your body is trembling against his and he loves it. Loves feeling how you’re shaking with need 

“Oh I’d have slammed you through this mattress by now if I could have” he reassures you, dipping a third finger into your soaked heat “But for now? I just want to enjoy the love of my life. Is that okay with you?”

He does pick up the pace a bit now that he’s got three fingers inside you, your body rocks on his fingers and you nod, feeling higher than he is right now 

“Uh huh, t-that’s okay” 

“Gonna ride me, baby? Gonna try and fit me all in that tight little snatch?” 

Your cheeks flush and he pulls his hand away, offering it up to you. You eagerly clean it up, staring at him the entire time. A chill runs down his spine as he stares into those pretty eyes, dark and cloudy with lust, and he knows they match his. He can feel your clit practically throbbing on his cock 

You get on your knees, your body hovering above his for a second before you line up his cock with your entrance. His eyes roll over your body and he bites his lip, admiring the way your folds glisten in the dim lighting before you sink down onto him. It takes everything in him to let you take your time, he holds your hand, squeezing lightly as you fully seat yourself back on him 

“H-holy shit” he sounds as delirious as you feel. 

“You’re tellin me” you agree, your thighs trembling as you let your head fall back gently

 “Oh my god” You’re a little hesitant at first, you’re not really sure just how much he can take. But he stares up at you like you’re his moon, and he’s seeing stars (literally in his case) and you can’t help yourself, immediately finding a smooth, sensual rhythm that doesn’t hurt him and drives both of you wild 

“Fuck just like that” Eddie’s eyes roll back as you ride him, your hips swirling in slow, deliberate circles to hit your spot over and over again because he can’t drive his hips into you like he’s so desperate to do 

He pants raggedly as he grabs your ass in his hand, squeezing your soft flesh and bouncing it in his hand 

“Goddamn baby girl” he groans in frustration, dreaming about how you look with your ass in the air and face buried in the pillows. You take his hand, putting it on your breast and he squeezes it gentler and teases your nipple 

“Wanna suck on em so badly” He mumbles and you look at him, your face is flushed and hot, your mouth open in a little “o” shape as he hits deeper and deeper with every roll of your hips, he trails his hand down your torso, grinning like the Cheshire Cat when he feels the bulge of him in you 

“Jesus I never get used to that” He strokes your soft skin, mesmerized by the slow roll of your hips, the way your body moves on top of him. How your cunt squeezes him, struggling with each bounce to take all of him in you 

“So tight for me aren’t you? Soaked like a little slut and I’m not even doing anything” 

He looks so drunk in love right now as he rubs your clit, blinking slowly up at you. He reaches out with his other arm, wincing a little before pulling you down to him and connecting your lips 

“Edd-“

“Shut up” he mumbles, his lips moving in sync with yours as his body shudders as you start to ride him faster, he can tell you’re getting just as close as he is. He cups the back of your neck as your legs spread more, sinking you down further into his cock

“You gonna cum for me baby? My good girl gonna cum all over this cock?” 

He’s always had such a way with words. You finish on him, gasping as you try your best not to jolt him too much, your body quakes as you arch your back bouncing on him just a little. He hisses in a painful pleasure kind of way as his hips meet yours anyway, cumming deep inside you. He holds you down, forcing every last drop in. 

He lets go and you fall to the side, your body jerking a little as you come down from your high. Eddie has his hand on your thigh, squeezing it gently and you pant together. 

“I love you, Corazón” 

“I love you too, Superman” 

True to his word, Buck lets himself in after his shift. Exhausted he hangs up his jacket and slips off his shoes, padding over to the fridge and grabbing the Tupperware with his name on it

“God I love that girl” He fake sniffles as he tosses it in the microwave and waits for it to heat up. He grabs a tray from the cabinet, putting a fork and napkin on it and a cold beer. He’s definitely eating dinner in bed (the guest room, aka his room) and passing the fuck out. 

“Shit shit hot” he drops the bowl on the tray and picks it all up, going back to the guest room. He stops in front of Eddie’s room, the door partially open and bumps it with his side 

“Hey, Y/N I’m-“ 

You look up at him, your mouth wrapped around Eddie’s cock, his hand on your head. You pull away from him and Eddie throws a blanket over you 

“Jesus Buck-“ 

“MY EYESSSS” 

[callivich]

I really love the idea of Lip having to take Ian and Mickey home after their anniversary party, so I wrote a little something.

This references a previous ficlet where Lip has an inappropriate dream about Mickey, so adults only please!

Thanks to @udontfuckangie for the advice RE: babies in car seats in ambulances! This was originally going to have Tami drive the ambulance with Freddie but yeah, not safe. So, I had to change things - therefore let’s assume the ambulance is fine parked outside the Alibi for a night. Also, the song is “Hot Girl” by Megan Thee Stallion.

Lip gets into the front seat of his and Tami’s car to find Mickey leaning through the gap, half in the front of the car and half in the back, fiddling with the radio. He flicks through the different stations until he finds something he wants to listen to. Lip wants to shove him backwards and tell him to sit the fuck down, but...fuck, it’s their wedding anniversary. So, he’ll allow it.

“All the hot girls make it pop, pop, pop, bad bitches with the bag say ah ya ya”

“Fucking love this song.” Mickey shouts, turning the volume up, the bass vibrating through the car. He scrambles back awkwardly, elbowing Lip in the side, so that he’s sitting in the back seat. Ian laughs like this is the most hilarious thing that he’s ever seen. They both nod their heads in time to the rhythm, singing the chorus loudly.

Lip shakes his head, if there’s one thing he hates about being sober it’s dealing with drunk people, but, he reminds himself it’s their wedding anniversary and, goddamn, do they deserve to be carefree and happy. And they are feeling very carefree and happy right now. And also very drunk. So much so, it was decided that they should leave the ambulance outside the Albi and Lip would drive them home, before coming back to the bar to get Tami and Fred. It’s not that late, and Freddie is sleeping soundly so he leaves Tami to enjoy the party for a bit longer.

The song ends and Lip quickly turns down the volume so his eardrums aren’t destroyed.

“Play it again!” Mickey shouts, again, as if Lip isn’t sitting right in front of him.

“I can’t, it’s the radio.”

“Fuck you.”

He can hear Ian laughing again, like Mickey is the funniest person in the world.

“Put your seatbelts on.” Lip orders, cutting through the laughter.

“Fuck you.” Mickey replies, as Ian puts on his own seatbelt.

“Very creative, you just gonna repeat yourself all night? I’m not driving until you wear a seatbelt.” Lip sighs, as Ian’s words from earlier come back to haunt him - he’s feeling very much like a dad to Ian and Mickey right now.

“M’fine, just drive, bitch.” Mickey grumbles, punching the back of Lip’s seat.

“No.” Lip taps the steering wheel. “Seatbelt.”

“Here, I’ll do it.” Ian reaches across Mickey and pulls the seatbelt, clicking it into place after a few tries. “Gotta keep you safe.” He gently pats Mickey’s chest.

Lip rolls his eyes at the sappy, soft tone of Ian’s voice, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get over hearing Ian speak like that to Mickey fucking Milkovich, as if he’s the most precious thing in the world. But, he supposes, to Ian he is. Still, it’s weird.

Checking one more time to see they are wearing seatbelts, he starts the car and wishes for no traffic and an easy ride to the West Side.

“You liked the surprise?” Mickey asks Ian.

“Loved it.”

“I got you good.”

“Yeah, you did. Really thought you’d forgotten.”

“But I didn’t!”

“Fucking love you so much.”

“Love you too.”

And then the inevitable making out starts, and the car is filled with the sounds of sloppy kissing, breathy ‘yeah’s, and some verging on pornographic sounding moaning.

“Wanna suck you off.” Mickey whispers, thankfully loud enough for Lip to hear so he can put a stop to that before it happens. He reaches one arm behind and pushes blindly at Mickey’s head.

“No you’re not, Mickey. I’m serious, sit back.” He pulls his arm back, when he hears Mickey huffing and swearing under his breath. He checks the rear view mirror, and Mickey is glaring at him but sitting upright.

“It’s our fucking wedding anniversary.” Mickey punches the back of Lip’s seat again.

“I know, but you aren’t going to suck my brother off in the backseat of my car. That just isn’t going to happen.” Lip takes a deep breath, goddamn, Mickey is a pain in the ass when he’s drunk, and even more so than usual tonight. Probably down to him being so pleased at pulling off the surprise. And Lip gets that - Ian looked completely astonished when he’d walked into the party. Ian is drunker than Lip’s seen him in a long while - he doesn’t usually drink that much because of his meds, but once in awhile, during a special occasion like this, he lets loose. And it’s kinda nice to see? Because Ian is a sweet, sappy and very silly drunk - there’s something endearing about his behaviour. Lip likes seeing him carefree like this. He doesn’t feel the same way about Mickey, but then, he’s never really found Mickey that endearing.

Lip hears a slurred “c’mere” and some giggling and then there is more kissing. Which is fine, but anything more than that and he’s pulling this car over immediately. He really is in dad mode. He doesn’t want to spoil all their fun, he just doesn’t want to be anywhere near their fun while they’re having it.

The drive seems to take forever, all to the soundtrack of two very in love husbands who are making out as if it’s the first time they’ve ever done it. Lip can’t lie to himself, he’s a little jealous. He’d love a night like this with Tami - just the two of them, happy and silly and able to make out like teenagers. But that’s probably not going to happen anytime soon. Especially if she’s pregnant again. That’s a thought for another day though. Right now he needs to concentrate on Ian and Mickey.

He was hoping to just drop them off, but Lip realises, as he pulls into the apartment car park, that isn’t going to work. Because the first thing Ian says as the car comes to a stop is “let’s go swimming!”

“Yeah! Let’s fuck in the pool!” Mickey agrees excitedly, pulling on the car door and failing to open it.

Lip realises he needs to make sure they get to their apartment before they get themselves in trouble. He has visions of them being found floating face down in the pool, so he helps them both out of the car and firmly steers them towards the entrance to the apartment block.

“No swimming. You two are way too fucked up for that.” He ushers them through the open door into a well lit corridor, lined with doors to apartments and other doors to what he guesses are the offices and maintenance for the building.

“You just.....you just don’t wanna see Mickey without a shirt. In case you get all excited...again.” Ian is grinning, his face flushed.

“What?” Mickey barks, suddenly very interested in the handle of a door which he yanks up and down. There’s a sign that reads ‘private’ and it’s obviously locked but Mickey continues to yank at it for some reason Lip can’t fathom.

“He had a sex dream about you.” Ian is attempting to whisper, but it’s loud, oh so loud in the empty hallway. “I’m not supposed to say because it’s a secret.”

“Ian. What the fuck?” Lip sighs, exasperated.

“Ugh, gross.” Mickey gives up on trying to open the locked door, and turns to Lip with a disgusted look on his face. “Don’t fucking dream about me like that.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose. It was a fucking dream.” Lip realises his mistake as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

“It sure was!” Ian is still grinning. “A fucking dream. Where you fucked Mickey!” He bursts into laughter at his own joke, leaning against the wall.

Mickey still has that disgusted look on his face. “As if I would ever let you....” He shakes his head. “Fucking gross. I love Ian. Only wanna get fucked by Ian.”

Christ, Lip thinks, he needs to get them to their apartment, he doesn’t want to hear anymore of this kind of talk.

Mickey has taken Ian’s hands in his own, and Ian’s looking at Mickey like what he just said was very romantic. “Yeah, Lip, you can’t have him. He’s mine. My husband.”

“It was a dream. It doesn’t mean anything. I definitely do not want to have sex with Mickey. Ok? Let’s just get you two to your apartment. Now.” Lip pushes them firmly, and they stumble forward, still holding hands.

“Good. Besides...if I was...if I was single. Sure as fuck wouldn’t want to fuck you.....jabby.”

Lip frowns, “How do you know about that?”

“Oh, me and Tami....we talk. Gotta complain about you Gallaghers.”

“Jesus Christ. You two are friends now?”

“Yeah.” Mickey laughs. “Guess so.”

“Jabby!” Ian shouts gleefully, running slightly behind in the conversation, but with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what ‘jabby’ refers to.

“And you told him? Great.”

“Course I did, it was fucking funny.”

“It’s ok.” Ian pats Lip on the shoulder, trying to be reassuring. “I’m sure you’ll get better with practice.” Mickey lets out what Lip can only describe as a cackle.

“Jesus Christ, that was one time and it was a one off.” They are finally, finally, at the elevators and he practically punches the up button. He’s hasn’t been here before but he remembers Ian saying their apartment was on the second floor, so he trusts that’s right.

“In you go.” He herds them into the elevator and presses the ‘2’ button. And once again, they are on each other, furiously kissing. Lip thinks the elevator is moving much to slowly. He hits the ‘2’ button again. Mercifully, the elevator doors soon open on the second floor. But neither Mickey or Ian has noticed and Lip grabs Ian by the back of his coat and pulls him out, Mickey stumbling after him.

“Hey, hands off.” Mickey grabs for Ian, who Lip is dragging behind him as he purposefully strides down the corridor. He has to get them inside, he can’t take much more of this.

“He’s stealing me, Mickey!” Ian laughs, “Help! Help!” His voice echoes much too loudly around the corridor.

“I’ll...save you!” Mickey manages to spit out between laughs, almost doubling over.

“You can have him back when we get to your place? Ok.” Lip turns and looks over his shoulder. “Just come on Mickey, follow us.”

A door they are passing suddenly swings open, and a very annoyed older lady is standing there, cell phone in hand. “Everything alright? I heard someone say they needed help?”

“No, no. Everything’s fine.” Lip smiles, trying to look respectable. Which is hard because Ian and Mickey are giggling, red-faced and stumbling about. “They....they’ve just had a bit too much to drink and I’m helping them get home.”

“It’s our wedding anniversary!” Ian yells, throwing his arms in the air.

The woman looks distinctly unimpressed. “That’s very nice. But it’s late, you know. You can’t go around shouting for help if you don’t need it. Especially at this time of night!”

“Listen lady, if my husband-”

Lip interrupts before Mickey can finish whatever threat he’s about to make, “They know, and they’re very sorry. And I’m gonna make sure they are quiet right now.” He grabs Ian’s hand and then Mickey’s and uses all his strength to get them to start walking, as the woman shuts her door with one more disapproving glare. “Come on. Home. Now. Please.”

They get to the door of the apartment Lip thought they would never reach. “Keys?”

Ian frowns, as if this question is a difficult math problem on a test he didn’t study for. “Uh.” He slaps one hand to his chest, then the other and then begins to rummage around in his jacket pockets. “Uh. Hmmm....”

Mickey isn’t much help either. “Maybe....here?” He says, grabbing Ian’s crotch, which causes Ian to smile and giggle and get distracted.

“Come on, Ian. Where are the keys?”

“Oh. Yeah. Keys.” He eventually produces a set from his jacket which has far too many pockets for Lip’s liking or for his tolerance at this time in this never ending evening. “Keys!”

“Good. Great.” Lip snatches them, opens the door, and shoves them, gently - it is their anniversary after all, no matter how fucking annoying they are being - through the door, slamming it shut behind him as he follows them in. He lets out a deep breath, it felt like they would never get here.

The apartment is nice, new, modern. The kind of place he never would have imagined them living in. In fact, even though it’s not furnished properly yet, Lip can see it’s a really nice place. And he’s pleased, he wants them, especially Ian, to live somewhere good like this. They deserve it.

They’re standing in the middle of the empty living room, holding one another, swaying slightly. Ian’s hands move down Mickey’s back to rest on his ass. Better get out of here, Lip thinks to himself.

“You guys need to drink some water.” He starts to rummage around the pristine kitchen until he finds two glasses that he recognises from home...or rather, what’s no longer home, not really - the Gallagher house. There’s only two glasses, clearly they haven’t been shopping yet, he fills them both with water.

“Alright, lovebirds, drink up!” Lip holds the glasses out, but neither of them move. They’re just staring at one another, silently, with small smiles on their faces. “Not gonna leave till you have some water.”

They both put one arm out at the same time, because of course they do. Lip hands them their water and waits until they’ve both drunk their whole glasses.

Satisfied that he’s done everything he can, he makes a move to leave. “I’m going. Enjoy the rest of your anniversary.”

Ian is caressing Mickey’s face with one hand, the other barely holding the glass which is dangling at his side. “Thanks, Lip. Love you bro.”

“Love you too, asshole.” He turns to leave, but fuck it....Mickey is his brother-in-law, and even though he’s a real pain in the ass, he makes Ian happy and that’s the most important thing, and also they’re probably too drunk to remember what he’s going to say.... “And you too, Mick.”

“Gross. Stop fucking fantasising about me, Philip.” Mickey grumbles, never taking his eyes of Ian.

Lip laughs, and let’s himself out, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

[aetheternity]

I'll admit it's exciting. (Armin x reader)

Synopsis: Being your professor's dirty little secret. His pet.. Sounded too good to refuse.

Warning: Smut in the later chapters! 18+ only

"Good girl.." Your lip tucked itself beneath your tooth. Spine tingling at the intoxicating scent surrounding you.

You coaxed a breath off your lips as the almost inaudible creak of the desk under your professors weight made you sit up straight. His arms locking you in place.

You looked into his soft blue eyes feeling a tinge of entrapment at the way he had you locked in.

"Do you understand now?" His surprisingly large hands caressed your shoulder.

"Y-yeah." If you could see your own face you'd probably be embarrassed but you were currently helpless to the tiny bits of touch he allowed you.

Your elbows pushed you up just a little bit closer to his chest. His touch disappearing too soon.

"I think you'll be ready for the test in a couple days." And suddenly every bit of him was walking away and back to sit at his desk. "You should still study though. This stuff has been difficult for you."

~~~~

"Y/N."

The tip of your nail stayed fidgeting between your lips.

"Y/N."

Words flew through your brain but it all continued to just be flushed straight out again.

"Y/N!" The book flew from your grasp landing with a clatter that attracted glances from all angles.

"Are you alright Y/N?" Eren asked, concern etched into his deep sapphire eyes.

You let out a harsh exhale. "I was, until Sasha stopped my heart." You held a palm up to your chest, glaring over at Sasha.

Mikasa blinked boredom sunk into her features. Her cheeks forced into the palms of her hands as her elbows stayed firmly planted into the table. "New class?"

You nodded, shutting your binder before promptly flipping it open again.

"You'll be fine." She muttered, staring at you with her own version of concern.

"How can you say that? I had to transfer from a different class a month after the semester already started. You know how much stuff I've already missed! Not to mention I had originally thought this class was gonna be next semester me's problem." With a groan you let your head flop harshly onto the mildly sticky table in front of you.

"I think what Mikasa was trying to suggest was that Mr. Arlert has always been said to be a very gentle and caring professor." Sasha said

"You can always take office hours if you really have a hard time." Eren suggested

"Thanks Eren, but I think you're forgetting that I hate doing anything outside of class that won't immediately get me a passing grade."

Eren just shrugged, moving to stuff his notebooks into his own bag. All of them genuinely looking as though he'd just reused them from high school. Each one with a rip in the first page or the spiral unraveling.

"Welp it's 2:00." Sasha reminded you. And you groaned so loud you could practically feel the stares from other tables touching your soul.

"Maybe I'll fall down the stairs and break my ankle before I get up there." You slung your bag onto your shoulder hanging your head as you walked off.

"I'll have your favorite donuts in my room after you get out!" Sasha called

"You should've started with that!"

You made the walk so much longer by dragging your feet up every stair individually and rubbing a finger to your temple. So much so that it surprised you when you walked into the classroom and no one was in there except..

"Oh hello."

Hot..

So so very hot..

His smile sparkled only futher brightened by his deep blue eyes. His short blond hair parted slightly over his forehead. His blue button up was cuffed up against his forearms revealing a very slender but still fairly muscular set of hands. He probably had a nice chest too.

"You must be Y/N." He chuckled and before you could reassociate he was giving you a whole new list of things to think about as he bent over his desk to retrieve a piece of paper.

"Here's the syllabus. You're starting kinda late so it will be helpful to you to come to office hours. My office hours are at the bottom here." When he reached forward to point his scent caught you by surprise. A sweet almost fruit like smell wafted up your nose. "I hope you'll catch on quickly. Sit wherever you'd like."

His remark barely registered in your mind, your mouth hung open immediately slamming shut as the class quickly began to fill.

Before you could get swept up by the people flooding into the room you made your way to the front plopping down into the seat closest to the window. When you looked up again from where you'd yanked your binder almost haphazardly out of your bag, you caught the quickest wink you'd ever seen in your entire life.

Or maybe it was your imagination.

But the way he leaned a little closer when he approached you wasn't.

"Front row? Good choice."

Regardless of the heart problems he'd recently caused you he was moving on. Quickly silencing the class and starting the lesson.

Hot.

The only thought racing through your head.

Hot. Hot. Hot..

He was pretty! When he turned off the light his eyes didn't dull in the almost blinding way in which they shone. His hair fluttered over his forehead and ears and his shirt seemed to hug his chest tighter every time he reached up to turn off the projector or even just to reach a high spot on the board.

You already knew everything from today was going in one ear and out the other but it was really hard to give a damn when your professor's pants cupped his ass they way they did. His dark shoes clicked across the floor and-

"Do you understand any of it? I know it's your first day."

You blinked up at him hoping your eyes weren't as wide as they felt or that you weren't popping your mouth open and close like a suffocating fish.

He smiled, flipping the paper on the desk around till it faced him. "Can I?" He reached for the tip of your pen and as you let it go your fingers brushed in probably the strongest current of static that had ever touched your body.

"Don't worry ok this is just a practice test I wanna see what you know." He said, leaving a couple marks on the paper. He then pointed to the two empty test questions. "Don't leave anything blank ok."

This time when he walked away you were without a doubt certain he'd winked. When you looked down at your paper again you could see 3 checks on the paper in the light blue ink you were using and a little smiley face in the corner.

Your chest honestly had no right fluttering the way it did over something so trivial.

The class was only an hour and forty minutes but when it was over you felt like you'd only been seated there for ten minutes. When you handed the test paper back he sent you one final wink that made your knees buckle.

"See you next time." He said and you had to forcibly stop yourself from shuttering.

You half speed walked half ran out of there as soon as his classroom door had shut behind you. All the way to Sasha's dorm room.

You slammed it open already knowing Sasha only kept it locked when she wasn't in there. Your chest was heaving and you held onto the door frame for support. Noticing the immediate and visible flinch from Eren and Sasha.

"He's. Hot!!" You gasped for air before walking in and sinking to the floor in front of Sasha. She didn't budge as you fell against her shoulder just wrapped an arm around your shoulders hugging your back. "Oh god he's so hot.." You breathed into Sasha's collarbone.

"Looks like she did learn something." Eren muttered

"No! You don't understand he's like so pretty!"

Mikasa didn't even try to hide the way she rolled her eyes and Eren just sighed.

"Aww you've got a crush on your professor that's adorable." Sasha said, reaching into the box next to her, grabbing your favorite donut she pushed it into your open mouth pulling it back slightly to allow you to chew.

You sobbed a little before sighing and falling back into Sasha's neck. "What the hell am I gonna do?" You sighed

"Focus on passing the class is probably the first step." Eren replied

"Now you're just being silly." You replied, rubbing your fingers into the floor.

Sasha brought the donut back up to your lips smiling as you took another bite. "I wanna see him now! Isn't he the really young professor? Like he's supposedly only twenty five as of recently and got hired less than a year ago."

"Yeah.." You quickly put your password into your phone, turning the screen so Sasha could see.

Mikasa and Eren scooted closer as Sasha took a closer look. "He is pretty." Mikasa was the first to speak.

"Why do you just have his picture pulled up? How're you already being creepy?" Eren questioned

You scoffed, "I just happened to be looking on Instagram during a quick bathroom trip.. and I just so happened to look for him.. it's his fault for making it easy." You snatched the donut from Sasha taking a bigger bite.

"Yeah no I agree with Eren this is cree- AW HE HAS A DOG!" Sasha snatched the phone zooming in on the puppy in his lap.

"Actually it's his family's dog. Her name's Pumpkin and he goes home as often as possible to see her. A small two hour train ride to be exact." You sigh briefly "I've never really liked Terriers as a dog breed but that one's so cute.."

"Is the dog cute or is it the guy holding her?" Mikasa questioned with a little smirk.

"Not helping Mikasa.." Eren interjected "What are you even thinking? No matter if you like professor Arlert or not he has to keep it professional and so do you."

"Eren, look at the puppy." You took your phone from Sasha turning the screen back to face him.

He glanced down at the image then back into your eyes with a raised eyebrow.

"Puppy!"

"Creepy!" He pressed the power button on your phone and you deflated against Sasha's legs letting your phone turn over onto its face.

"I'll never understand why you don't go for a degree in hacking or something the way you always manage to pull up information on people." Mikasa shook her head.

"Probably going to be stuck with more math classes for one and secondly when I become a supervillain I don't need everyone knowing it was apart of my major." You replied, with an exaggerated eye roll.

Sasha shrugged, "If it was your major I'm pretty sure everyone would understand your descent into madness."

"I can't believe you just said that.." Eren groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"Me or her?" You asked

"Yes!"

~~~~

Thursday came too soon. Or maybe you should say, finally Thursday is here! You jumped back and forth between the two but by the time you slid into the honestly uncomfortable classroom seat and placed your bag between your legs you knew exactly what you felt.

"Professor!" A female's voice caught your attention and you turned slightly to see a short brown haired girl running into the classroom.

"You were right about what I was missing! Once I applied what we talked about in office hours it became so simple."

"That's what I like to hear Petra." He winked as he flipped through a stack of papers on his desk.

Wait, had he always done that to all the students or had you just not noticed last time? You felt your shoulders hunch but they were instantly picking back up again as he slid a piece of paper onto your desk.

"You did pretty well on that practice test. Seems like you'll be up to speed in no time." He smiled, a deep warm smile that made your stomach squeeze.

Your lips curled upwards and you quickly moved to hide it behind your paper as he walked away.

"You too huh?"

You felt your skin practically vibrate but you hoped and prayed it wasn't too noticeable.

"Wh-what?" You glanced over at the girl Petra who sat only one desk away from you. Her features flat and her eyes dark in the middle an almost scary contrast from earlier.

"You're into him too?" She muttered

Was it that obvious? Stupid question. How could you be so obvious?

"I don't think you'll win out." She continued and before you could question it, she pointed to the back row.

It seemed almost like a tussle as Mr. Arlert was being held hostage by another young female holding his hand. He smiled mildly awkwardly as he spoke with her, nodding his head to everything her and the other girls surrounding her said. The first girl running a thumb over the back of his hand.

You felt your skin prickle and you exhaled loudly. "So.. I'm guessing you too.."

Petra blinked at you then quickly shifted around in her seat. Mr. Arlert quickly approached the front of the room clapping to get the classes attention. And with that the lesson was beginning.

You noticed from the clap at the beginning of class to the last word uttered that not one word in Mr. Arlert's lesson had actually registered in your mind. Your thoughts too full of Petra's words, her blank almost villainous expression as she'd talked.

And that girl's hand. That annoying girl in the back row. You peeked your head back there looking at the now empty chair. In fact the entire classroom was empty and had been for at least 15 minutes since you continued to struggle with stuffing your binder back into your apparently shrunken bag.

"Need help?"

You bit your lip and looked away as he came closer. You weren't really standing up straight but you immediately noticed the way he towered over you. His fingers so delicate in the way they brushed over yours sliding the irritating object into the confines of your bag.

"Thank you.." You whispered

He chuckled, "No problem, happy to help."

His eyes didn't leave yours for an almost uncomfortable amount of time so you shifted your feet backing away a little. He seemed to notice and placed a hand on the back of his neck, backing up himself.

Oh no. Now he was getting uncomfortable.

He made his way back over to his desk but not before you'd slipped in something to ease the tension. "Sorry for over staying my welcome.."

He let out a soft chuckle. "You're not bothering me plus there are no classes in here for two hours after mine on Thursday. You can stay as long as you'd like."

"O-oh." You face palmed internally at your stupid reply. "So.." You began again. "Do you mind if I asked you how you're such a young professor.."

His eyes flickered up from the work he'd been filling out. "Well, I skipped a couple grades and I was in college by 15. I'm actually still in college now but I was an assistant teacher at 18 for about three years for a high school a couple blocks from here before I became a full fledged teacher and then I worked at the same school as a teacher for three more years before I finally left and started teaching here."

It should've been obvious from the start that he'd worked tireless hours of school to get here at such a young age. Not to mention probably having worked just as hard in the gym. He'd only leaned back a little bit in his chair but it was enough for you to have a perfect mental image.

Your eyes flicked up to his much softer more.. Arlert like smile? Maybe? It just felt like the kind of smile he'd give a friend and less like the smile he used in the classroom. Not that that one felt fake, just.. different.

"Do you.. I mean.. have you always had girls?.." His eyebrows scrunched as you spoke. You pointed to the back of the classroom. "You're young I mean, do girls always touch you like that?"

He blinked up at the ceiling then back down to you. Your breath hitched as he pulled himself up from the desk walking closer to you.

"As soon as they find out I'm not that much older than them? Yeah."

You probably should've stopped but your brain was suddenly working independently. "Does it?.. Do you like that kind of attention?"

He sat down on the desk crossing his arms over his chest and his leg over his knee. He spoke his head. "Not normally no."

"Normally?"

He stood again but this time he stopped directly in front of you. Sharp blue eyes cold and yet warm and vibrant. The desk creaked under your weight as you leaned back into it. His hands at your sides, his breath tickling your upper lip.

His thumb came up to graze your cheek but was quickly removed and planted back on the desk. "Can I kiss you?"

You nodded way too eagerly and-

So so so much softer than you'd even thought imaginable. His nose rubbed against yours and he was pulling away. Too soon.

You grabbed the back of his neck, yanking him back to you. Immediately delighted by the warm touch of his pretty pink lips.

He pulled back and you yanked him forward. Over and over again with soft peppered kisses. And then one slightly longer one where he was comfortably mushing his lips against yours.

[hotchseyebrows]

that's my heart right there

a derek morgan x penelope garcia fic

a/n: hi beloveds :) today i present this happy and soft morcia fic that i wrote in practically one go last night. who needs wips when you can just ignore them all blatantly for new works? thank you as always to @blkantigone for providing another set of eyes, love you lots! love you all too, thank you for reading!

rating/warnings: teens and up, allusions to sex but none on screen, mostly just gooey marshmallowly fluff!

read it on ao3 here!

The sunlight surrounds her in a soft glow. She smiles at him and something inside of him breaks open.

“Let’s get a drink.” It’s not an unusual request for them, but it feels bigger this time. “If you want to.”

Her smile grows. “Yes please.”

-

A post Exit Wounds fic where Kevin doesn't exist and Clooney the dog is much more important to the narrative. They're in love and finally doing something about it.

word count: 2311

“I kinda love you, Derek Morgan.”

“I kinda love you, Penelope Garcia.”

He thinks about it the whole plane ride back from Alaska. When they board, she gently tugs him to the big couch before sitting directly next to him. He drops his arm around her shoulders instinctually, smiling as she hums and pulls out her knitting. She smells like honey and rain (the respective scents of her shampoo and conditioner and her body wash) and has picked a warm color gradient for her outfit and makeup today. She babbles about her knitting group’s latest gossip for a while as he relaxes into her side.

She seems like her normal relaxed and bubbly self, but he can feel the tension in her shoulders. Their early conversation was comforting, but her worries are still weighing on her. But he doesn’t want to bring it up in front of everyone, so he just kisses her temple and tugs her closer. “So wait baby girl, is Jared going to ask out Francisco or not?”

“I don’t know! I asked him about it before we left and he dodged giving me a straight answer. I think he’s worried about their friendship, but it’s SO obvious that Francisco is wild about him. They’re already best friends, so- he’s just being silly. I told him that.”

The conversation moves on, but Penelope’s friends join the merry-go-round of thoughts in his head for the rest of the flight. They stay close for the remaining 8 hours, usually with some form of physical contact even as they adjust positions over the long trip home. Derek focuses on making her laugh as much as possible and trying to make her blush all at once.

When they land at home after almost 9 hours on the jet, the sun is setting. The team is obviously tired, but in relatively good spirits as they exit the plane. Derek is last, just behind Penelope. The sky is full of the same colors on Penelope’s clothes today, he realizes as they walk across the airfield. “It’s good to be back,” she says, pulling her shawl tight. “I miss you when you go but it’s… easier on me in some ways not to be there.”

It makes him pause, slowing to a stop. Penelope walks further ahead but notices he’s not there and stops herself. She looks over her shoulder at him, waiting. The sunlight surrounds her in a soft glow. She smiles at him and something inside of him breaks open.

“Let’s get a drink.” It’s not an unusual request for them, but it feels bigger this time. “If you want to.”

Her smile grows. “Yes please.”

-

They don’t dance. This part is unusual. Instead it’s 4 drinks in each at a quiet bar close to Derek’s apartment, and they are glued to each other’s side on the same side of a table in a corner booth. This place doesn’t even have a dance floor. 

She leans against his side, nosing at his neck. “You smell good,” she mumbles. He wraps an arm around her, feeling shaky like a ship in a storm.

“Baby girl, is this-” He pauses, not sure what the question should be. Not sure of the answer she’ll give. Penelope picks her head up to look at him, cheeks flushed. Derek swallows. “Am I imagining things, or…” 

“You’re not imagining things.” She leans up and kisses the corner of his mouth. “I feel it too.” He grins and pulls her in for a proper kiss. They fall into it easily, as if it isn’t the first time. The first time it really means what it’s meant to. It feels like they’ve been together for years- and in some ways, that’s not untrue.

-

He brings her home. It’s late, and they’ve had a long case and now a long night, so he knows she’s tired. Still, she stops to drop to her knees to hug Clooney when he comes barreling out of Derek’s bedroom at the sound of them entering the apartment.

“Oh, hello sweetie, hi there, yes, I know, it’s so exciting when Daddy comes home, but it’s even more exciting when he brings me to visit, I know-” Clooney agrees with a quiet woof- “see, Derek, Clooney said I’m his favorite.”

Derek smiles at the way his best girl gets along with his big goof of a dog. “He’s got good taste.” He doesn’t mean the words to come out so weighted, but she looks up at him with such a reverent look on her face that he doesn’t care.

She stands up and drags him through his apartment, Clooney hot on their heels. They get ready for bed at the same time as if they’ve done this domestic routine every night for ages. She won’t stop looking at him like she loves him. Like she cherishes him. He believes her.

She pulls him into his bed, arranging their bodies close together. They don’t do anything more than kiss with their arms wrapped around each other. She falls asleep first with her head on his chest. It makes him feel warm. They shared a bed in Alaska too, and now he’s thinking about not wanting the streak to end. He pulls her closer for the moment, the places where her soft skin is touching his own shooting little bolts of lightning through him as he falls asleep too.

-

Penelope makes breakfast. He takes Clooney on a run, slipping out of bed when she’s still asleep and kissing her forehead before he goes. When he comes back, she’s in his robe, standing over the stove. He’s sweaty and hot, but she yanks him into a kiss anyway. After the eggs burn a little, he pulls away and takes a quick shower. She’s waiting at the table, coffee made and Clooney napping at her feet. The food is delicious, but sitting here with her like this is better. She tastes like coffee when he kisses her over the table.

Someone surely would have noticed Penelope in the same outfit again today, but over the years so much of her clothing has ended up hanging in Derek’s closet next to his own that she’s able to pick out a full outfit for the day. Today her dress is frilly and bright green. He picks out a darker green shirt to match- just because he can.

-

They drop into this new routine easily. Their flirtatious phone calls now have this added layer of promise and intent, even if they haven’t made good on it yet. She’s always been the primary person to stop in and take care of Clooney while Derek’s on cases, but now he comes home and she’s still there. His two best loves, sitting on his couch. He gets home after a case with hidden cameras and is feeling particularly exposed over it all. But there she is, smiling up at him, because she missed him. Because she wanted to see him.

“Hi there,” she says. He crosses the room and lifts her off the couch, holding her against him. She follows his lead with ease, trusting him implicitly. His arms wrap around her waist. He can literally feel her breathing like this, and he’s never been so grateful that she’s alive. “Hi,” she whispers again.

“Hi baby.” He nuzzles the side of her head, breathing in the soft honey scent of her hair. 

She doesn’t ask what’s got him all worked up. She just wraps her arms around his neck and lets him hold her. After a minute or two of just swaying in place, he leans in and presses their lips together. A gentle kiss at first, but quickly his desire for closeness, to feel her, bleeds into that too. He lifts her legs off the ground and puts them around his waist. Penelope makes a noise close to a whine in the back of her throat, pushing closer. He carries her to his room, kissing her fiercely all the while.

-

Afterwards, she’s lying on top of him with her head on his chest. Derek runs his fingers through her hair, gently untangling anything he comes across. “I’m glad you’re home,” she says, slightly muffled by her mouth’s position against his skin.

It sounds like she means that this is their home. Or that she is his home. 

“Me too.” He pulls her up for another slow kiss. She climbs up on top of him, straddling his hips. Her hands cup his cheeks before running down his chest. He keeps the kiss slow, and she kisses back with ease. Like they’re in love.

-

Derek is in the break room, making another cup of coffee. Emily slides next to him, a coffee stirrer in her teeth. “You seem happy.”

Derek looks at her out of the corner of his eye. “It’s a nice day, Prentiss.” Emily deliberately looks at where the rain outside is hitting the window. Derek doesn’t back down.

“Whoever you’ve been dating must be a hell of someone. That’s good.”

Derek can’t help but smile. She really is.

“But I want more information sooner than later, Morgan.”

He hums, and picks up Penelope’s coffee cup from the rack. He takes his time filling it before looking at Emily pointedly. 

She pauses and then grins. “I fucking knew it. I knew it!” Derek smiles back. “You better take care of her, I swear to God-”

“I will. I am.”

She softens. “She better take care of you too.”

He picks up both mugs. “She does.”

-

He’s never felt like this in a relationship before. Being with Penelope is easy. It’s just the same as it was, but better and more. She stops by his office a little more, and he swings by the batcave more often than he needs to, but no one notices. It’s just part of the normal Morgan-Garcia antics everyone expects. 

She does take full advantage of this and is definitely getting kissed more often than anyone else at Quantico during the day, but Derek doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind at all.

-

They’re sitting on a park bench at the edge of the dog park and watching Clooney run himself ragged through the grass. She puts her head on his shoulder. “Francisco asked Jared out a few days ago.”

“I thought you said Jared was the one who was thinking about asking out Francisco.”

“Francisco got tired of waiting.”

He nods. “I know the feeling,” he says before kissing the top of her head.

-

After they find Ellie’s mom, Derek can’t shake this weird mixture of happy and sad in the middle of his chest. Penelope comes over unprompted with a plate of cookies and a stack of dvds. They lay on the couch, her holding him and Clooney with his head on Derek’s thigh. They don’t talk about it then, but they will later. For now she traces a pattern on his side as Nicolas Cage and Holly Hunter kidnap a baby. Clooney starts snoring. Penelope kisses Derek’s shoulder, arms holding him tight.

-

They show up together to a little party at Rossi’s. Emily sees them holding hands and grins. No one else notices that, but they do notice when Penelope pulls Derek down into a kiss after he gets her another drink.

“Thank you, mon amour. You’re my hero.”

He laughs. “Anything for you baby girl.” He taps the tip of her nose in punctuation. She pulls him in for another short kiss in response.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” says Rossi.

Emily is grinning widely. Spencer and JJ have matching excited and pleased looks. Hotch has this knowing look on his face. Derek raises an eyebrow at him specifically. Hotch just looks back with the softest smile on his face. He should have known Hotch would have noticed.

“Hold on, does that mean what I think it does or is this something you two are just doing now?” Spencer asks.

Derek looks down at Penelope. “Yes.”

The team laughs. “Yes to which part?”

“Yes,” Penelope says.

Spencer scrunches his nose at her. She giggles. “Yes, as in, it means what you think it does, pretty boy.”

Spencer claps his hands together, swinging them back and forth a little. “Good! Finally. I’m glad we don’t have to wait anymore.” 

“Me too,” Penelope says to the group, but she’s only looking at Derek. He leans in and kisses her again in agreement. 

-

Derek takes Clooney out when they get home to let him do his business before bed. When he comes back inside, Penelope is already in bed wearing one of his shirts and flipping through a knitting magazine. He strips down to his boxers and climbs into bed next to her, laying on his back and putting his face on her thigh.

“I think they took that well,” she says.

Derek rubs his face into her skin. He hums, nodding a little. 

“When did Emily find out?”

“Find out that it’s you I’m seeing? Or that it was you I was too afraid to do anything about?”

She chuckles. “How about both, then.”

“She cornered me in the break room a few weeks after Alaska. And I never officially told her that I was nuts about you, so I think a safe bet would be her first day on the team.” Penelope drops the magazine and climbs into his lap.

“That long?” He knows what she means specifically.

“Even longer.” She runs a thumb along his jawline and looks down at him with such adoration in her eyes he thinks he might burst.

“Me too,” she whispers, like it’s a secret. He pulls her down into a kiss.

“I kinda love you, Penelope Garcia,” he mumbles against her lips.

“I kinda love you, Derek Morgan,” she says back without hesitation. He kisses her again, 'cause that’s the best thing he’s heard all day.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Breakfast in the Bed || Mike Wheeler x Reader

Day 3 of Fictober

Pairings: Mike Wheeler x [gn]Reader, Elmax

Fandom: Stranger Things (2016-)

Requested: Could you write a Mike x Reader fic where Mike and the rest of the party surprise the reader with breakfast in bed on their birthday and the reader accidentally confesses that she likes Mike? Or something like that, idk. Thanks!

A//n: Holy fuck, im so sorry this took a million years, but thank you loads for being so incredibly patient. It gets so hard sometimes, but know that I appreciate your guys' understanding and patience with me and I've always had every intention of getting it done cause I want to keep my promise to you guys 💞 i thought this was a cute request, and for a while I had this idea stuck in my head that made it kinda hard to write but then when I started writing, it took a different direction in a different tone but i think it helped. Its more of a funny chaotic kind of fluff rather than an typical "you like me?" cliche fluff. Either way I hope you like it and thanks again for being so patient and requesting!

Fictober Day 1: "you did this?"

[Not Really] Warnings: fluff, a Zathura reference. Elmax being adorable girlfriends

Key: f/b = favorite breakfast/fav.food

"Are you sure about this, man?"

"Shh!" Mike hisses, trying desperately to keep the tray in his hands balanced. "You'll wake Y/n!"

Lucas looks at his friend completely dumbfounded like the rest of the group, aside from El who clung to Max's arm with a perplexed expression and a party hat on her head.

"Dude," Lucas deadpans. "That's the whole point."

"You know what I mean," Mike huffs.

With some convincing from your head of house and some careful planning the night before, the party now found themselves in your doorway with your favorite breakfast. You were still out cold, head buried in your pillow and your limbs tangled messily in your sheets.

"Are you sure we even should be doing this?" Max asks in a whisper. "You know how Y/n feels about sleeping. And, ya know, I'd want to sleep in on my birthday."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Dustin eases with a smile, and a cheery tune. "It's us! And food. In bed!"

He steps out from behind Mike and enters your bedroom, and everyone watches wearily as he tiptoes to your bedside. You still hadn't moved, aside from the steady rise and fall of your body. Max's words played over in Mike's head and the more it did he couldn't help but realize she was probably right. He tried calling out to Dustin but it was too late. By the time the grinning boy had reached out to touch your shoulder it looked more as if he were poking a sleeping bear.

You groaned but never moved, and Dustin tried again.

"Dustin?" Will whispers uneasily. "Maybe, Max is right. Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Y/n~" Dustin sings in a low volume, and he begins shaking you more. "Y/n, wake up~! We've got a surprise for you~!"

You shift in your bed but again, show no signs of consciousness. Dustin looks over his shoulder at his friends, a bright smile overtaking his face.

"Guys, it's fine! Look," He turns back to you, shaking your shoulder again and missing the winces from your friends. "Y/n-"

Dustin stumbles back when your palm meets his face with a rough smack.

"Go away!" You exclaim, eyes screwed shut to block out all the invasive light that stung your vision.

You didn't quite know who all was there, all you did know was that people were in your bedroom and trying to wake you up.

"Why," you seethed, your voice low and gravelly from lack of use. "am I awake at,"

You roll over to look at the flickering red lights of your alarm clock, your eyelids fighting hard to stay open.

"six-thirty in the morning?"

Through your blurry vision you can make out all of the party standing in your room, looks of displacement written all over their faces. It's quiet for a moment as they struggle for words, until El breaks the silence with a party blower.

Max winces from her side, and sends a small smile to the brunette and in a small voice says to her. "Yeah, maybe not now, okay El?"

El winces, taking the party blower out of her hand and gives you a wide toothy smile. You didn't mind so much as you just wanted to give into what your body was telling you do; bury yourself under the covers and slip back into sleep.

You groan again, doing just that. You let your body fall back into the small nest you had unintentionally made for yourself but you knew the comfort was going to be short lived. And it was.

"Come on, Y/n," Lucas said, stepping into your bedroom, gesturing past Dustin who was still rubbing his nose, and over to Mike who timidly held the tray of f/b. "We made you breakfast."

They were met with silence. And no, they were not being ignored but you in fact were drifting back off.

"You can eat it in bed," Lucas added with a hopeful grin.

Your head picked up when you registered what your friend said. Your eyelids still felt they were made of magnets wanting to snap together but it was a little easier to fight it.

You were kinda hungry... And you wanted to spend today with your friends anyway.

You plastered on a sleepy smile, and turned to look at your friends through your half-lidded eyes as if you hadn't just scolded them.

"For me?" You asked in an exaggerated, sickly sweet voice that asked them to move on from it.

They all laughed nervously - again, apart from El who just seemed happy you were happy now.

"Yup," Lucas said. "We thought you deserved something special for your birthday, so we all decided to surprise you."

His voice was a bit uneasy, but your brain was still too foggy to comprehend it. So you just pulled yourself up into a sitting position against your pillows, readjusting your sleepshirt and pajama bottoms since they had shifted an uncomfortable amount throughout the night.

You smiled up at them all, feeling kinda guilty.

"Thank you guys," you said, with a genuine smile. "This is actually really nice. Here, you can come in,"

Mike seemed the most relieved out of all of them, and anxiously he stepped forward and headed for your bedside with the tray table full of food and drink. Max and El walked hand in hand to stand at the end of you bed, Max taking a seat on the end of the mattress to face you while El began playing with ends of her hair. Lucas and Dustin were further along the side of the bed to make room for Mike who carried the tray.

You bit the inside of you cheek a little, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes as you yawned.

"Sorry I hit you, Dustin," you say meekly, beginning to feel a bit silly about the whole thing.

He shrugs it off with a smile. "Eh, no worries. We'll be laughing about it later. Right, guys?"

He pat Mike's back in a playful - and forceful - manner, unintentionally throwing the balance off the tray. Not a single item stayed on the wooden tray, but was now splayed out all over your sheets and soaking through your shirt and pajama bottoms. You jumped back at the unwelcomed and highly uncomfortable sensation, gaping down at the mess you were now buried in. Slowly you look up to meet eyes with the party, particularly Dustin and Mike.

They looked as if they had crapped their pants.

Dustin's jaw hangs open for a moment, his entire body completely frozen. His right hand is wrenched up to point at Mike, who stares at the tray with glazed eyes, and his face completely crimson.

"It was all his idea!" Dustin squeaks.

Your fiery gaze meets Mike's terrified one, and his mouth parts as he begins sputtering. He was trying to summon an apology, or even an "it was an accident" but all he managed was a nervous, uncomfortable smile.

Your heart would have fluttered at his state had it not been for the meal that had just been dumped on you. You yank the sheets off of you, drops of what hadn't yet soaked completely in flew through the air and hit some of your friends and Mike backs away. He drops the tray from his hands when you climb out of bed with a look that could kill, wet chunks of food falling off of you and landing on the floor with slap.

"You did this?"

Sure, your best friend and long time crush had looped all your friends into coming over and surprising you for your birthday. But he also was the reason you not only lost a long morning of sleeping in, but were now wearing your breakfast and didn't have a warm bed to go back into when they left.

You're eyes narrowed at him. "You did this."

"I'm sorry!" He shouts, running out into the hallway.

"YOU'RE LUCKY I LIKE YOU WHEELER, OR YOU'D BE DEAD! NOW GET BACK HERE, AND CLEAN THIS UP!" You shout, running out right after him.

The remainder of the party stands awkwardly at your bedside where you left them.

Dustin laughs nervously. "That went well,"

Will gestured over his shoulder towards the hall, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Wait," he laughs. "Did Y/n finally just admit what I think Y/n just admitted?"

Max grimaced as she wiped away the remainder of food that had clung to her face, and flicked it away disgusted that she had been hit.

"Yup," Max says, popping the 'p'. "Didn't think I'd see the day, either."

[addictofsupernatural]

Displays of PDA

Katsuki Bakugo : Hand Holding

The group had decided to go watch a movie together, and though Bakugo wanted to sit away from the rest of the group to spend some alone time with you, your friends didn't let you.

You felt bad. This had been the weekend before mid terms and the point of this little get out was to relax everybody, but Bakugo only wanted to spend the day doing nothing with you.

That's why you leaned into him while watching the movie, touching his wrist as his arm was stretched out on the arm rest. You rubbed two of your fingers back and forth on his wrist.

Bakugo glanced at you before staring at your hands. You then moved three of your fingers to rub his lower palm. He opened up his hand for you and you gladly began to entwine your fingers with his, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

He squeezed your hand, and a smile presented itself onto your face. You looked at your boyfriend, who was staring a little too intensely at the movie, as if not wanting to be caught staring at you or your hands.

Mina got up to use the restroom, having to pass through you all. When she stood, Bakugo released his small grip on your hand and had his hand go limp.

You felt a little hurt, but understood none the less. Bakugo was not a fan of PDA, feeling that the affection would lose its significance if there was a constant audience. He was comfortable with you specifically, and wanted to be comfortable in private.

You took your hand away and stopped leaning towards Bakugo. Though you didn't see, Bakugo furrowed his eyebrows. When Mina left he grabbed your hand from your lap, you looking over to see him glare.

He nodded toward the screen, indicating for you to look at it. Sometimes it was easier for him to convey his feelings without feeling the weight of being looked at.

He leaned into your ear, you not dating to move. He whispered, "Your hand is mine now, got it?"

You smiled at how silly and territorial that statement sounded, leaning away to look at him and nodding. You went back to looking at the movie, and he leaned back to your ear again.

"And thank you." He softly kissed just below your ear. Your face felt like it exploded, and you heard Bakugo chuckle at your reaction.

Eijiro Kirishima : Hugging

You were so excited to make this hot chocolate for your boyfriend. It was your specialty, and you loved making it in the cold weather. While you were making some, however, you felt a pair of arms warmly embrace you into a hard chest.

He snuggled into your hair, causing you to chuckle. You turned around as his arms went to your lower waist. You then gasped in realization. "You're not supposed to be in the cafeteria!"

He chuckled. "Why not?"

"Because I was gonna surprise you with some hot chocolate I made." You pouted.

He laughed, swaying you while you were in his arms. "Well that's no good, huh?" He teased, causing a smile to force its way into your lips. "Hmm, how about I wait in the common area?"

You glanced around if anyone was there, and in seeing no one else in the kitchen you gave him a soft kiss. "Yes please."

He nodded, giving you one final squeeze before leaving. You finished making the hot chocolate, carefully walking over to the couches for him. He stood up and gave you a side hug. Before you could say anything, Mina was pulling you away for you to help her with her wardrobe.

"I'll tell you how much I love it when you come back!" He called out.

"Okay!" You then rushed off with Mina.

Kaminari and Sero looked over to Kirishima and started shaking him. "What are you holding out on man?" Sero teased.

"Yeah, let us have some. It has the girlfriend magic." Kaminari added.

He laughed along with his friends. "No way! My magical girlfriend, my magical hot chocolate."

He took a gulp, and loved it. It was the best he had ever tasted, and the fact that you made it specifically for him made it so much better.

You came back, Kirishima quickly putting the cup down and running over to you. He picked you up and spun you around, you giggling. You put your hands around his neck.

"So manly." You said to him. You leaned deeper into the hug as he rocked your bodies with a big smile on his face.

When you two didn't know was that Kirishima's two friends had gulped down the hot chocolate to mess with him. When they started laughing, Kirishima ran over to the cup and looked at you in a panicked manner.

"It's fine." You said, smiling at his sigh of relief. "But now you owe a movie date."

"Deal." He went over to you, leaning forward for you to get on his back. "Hop on, I'll get my laptop."

You got on his back and snuggled into his back, giving the back of his neck little kisses.

Denki Kaminari : Cuddling

"Baby!"

Kaminari called out to you while yanking your bedroom door open, you and the girls turning towards him. His hair was still damp, having just come out of the shower, and he maneuvered around the girls to make his way over to you.

"Excuse me." He politely muttered to Mina, who was on the bed with you. He then threw himself at your side, wrapping you in his arms and snuggling into you. You made eye contact with each other and both smiled. "Hi."

You giggled. "Hi."

"What's up with him?" Jirou asked. "He's usually not this clingy to you."

"H–hey! I deserve to be like this with my girlfriend!" Blush had made its way to Kaminari's face.

"He's tired." You said as you ran your fingers through his hair, him snuggling more into you for it. "I'm sure working out with Bakugo and Kirishima is intense."

"Momo, continue what you were saying." Tsu said.

She glanced at Kaminari and looked worried. He smiled. "You don't have to worry about me, I don't gossip. Promise."

Everyone talked while you scratched his scalp, soon moving one hand to rub his neck. Kaminari felt good, but inside he felt bad. All this pampering was going to put him to sleep, and he really wanted to have some time alone with you once everybody left.

He sat up and scooted back to scoop you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and having you seated comfortably as he would rest his cheek at the top of your head and would go to putting his head on your shoulder to give you two or three kisses, rotating positions every so often.

Once everybody left he squeezed your stomach gently, sighing. "We're alone now."

"Yup." You turned around to face him and ran your hand through his hair, Kaminari briefly closing his eyes. "Poor baby, did you stay up for me?"

He nodded as you smiled at his adorable puppy eyes. "Do I get a prize?"

You laughed lightheartedly. "You're so innocent looking when you're tired. I love it."

He smiled and buried his face in your neck. "Baby~ I want a prize from you. Can I please get some kisses or something?"

His warm hand went underneath your shirt to feel your stomach. You softly chuckled. "Or something?"

"Baby, if I wasn't so tired I'd be putting you to sleep with my dick. But I am, so maybe you can put me to sleep." He explained it hopefully.

You laughed gleefully. "Your logic is something else babe." You ran your hand through his hair. "Hmm. How about kisses now, and tomorrow I wake you up with some head."

He gave you a few kisses up your neck and right under your jaw, which he knew you were sensitive to. "Deal, but I also get to eat you out and finger you before I dick you down after, okay?"

You hummed in approval, and he brought you down for your back to hit the bed. He then hovered on top of you to give you one more deep kiss. You smiled with your eyes half lidded. "Such a generous person."

"Such a caring and beautiful specimen."

You both went under the covers and began lazily making out until falling asleep in each other's arms.

Why do I kinda want to make a spicy fic out of the next day 👀

- - -

Suggest other characters I can do these for please :)

[ciggylungz]

Show me yours

Blurb night- 1.8k words

(Request: Maybe more catholic school H but there bestfriend and there both v innocent and its their first time trying _______ (whatever you want) just a thought? (For the possible blurb night.)

 “Did you hear what Lily was saying about Connor?”

y/n looked up when she heard Harry’s voice, the two of them in his room trying to finish their shared art project. They had to do a joint painting of the schools logo for the competition being held to pick a new art piece for the Catholic school. Y/n was currently trying to fix her minor mishap of mixing the purple too dark on the lower corner of the canvas.

“No? what happened?” her attention was divided between the art and Harry’s bite of gossip he was finding the correct verbiage for. “Lily said her and Connor did it!” his tone was slightly lower, whispering the last word so no one would hear a slight blush creeping onto his face. The revelation made the girl snap her head towards her best friend, eye’s widened a bit. The two of them were rather sheltered, they had attended the same private Catholic schools from the time they were in kindergarten up to the present as they were both in their second year of secondary school. The most rebellious thing they’ve ever really done was taking a second sip of the communion wine during mass, so hearing that their classmates may have had sex was very shocking to the pair.

“No way!” the project now took a backseat, y/n now fully invested in the drama Harry was relaying to her. “I swear! She said they did it in the bathroom!” , “Oh my gosh!...did she say anything like detailed?” the girl was just as nosy as her best friend. She wanted every drop of information she could squeeze from him. Harry smiled awkwardly, nervous repeating the words he’d heard from the two teens in question. “Uh…well she said they had s-sex in the bathroom, and Connor said she uh…’went down’ on him at his house..” while y/n knew the basics of sex, she didn’t exactly know much beyond ‘sex is between two married people and makes babies’ , so she questioned his revelation. “what does that mean?” , Harry wasn’t sexually experienced by any means, he was a kiss-less virgin but he would be lying if he said he didn’t know what certain sexual acts involved…he may be a good boy but he’s also a teenage boy with internet access.

His blush grew a few shades darker, opting to clear his throat and make sure the door was closed while he tried to find his voice again. “Uh..well-“ a uncomfortable chuckle escaped him while he tried to choke out the dirty words. “It’s when a girl puts their mouth on a boys private parts…” Y/n gawked at Harry, totally shellshocked at the fact that was a thing! She couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to do that, “Wait what?! Isn’t that dirty? Don’t you pee from there?!” the girl was now standing on her feet her innocent mind trying to comprehend this new information. “Well…yea but I don’t think it’s dirty? If you don’t shower maybe, and the boy doesn’t pee in their mouth…” a nervous hand reached up to scratch the back of Harry’s flushed neck.

“that’s so…weird….h-have you ever done that?” Y/n asked him with a slight bow of her head locking eyes with him, “No! I’ve never done it! I’ve just s-seen it before tha’s all…” the boy shifted uncomfortably, “You’ve seen it? Where?”

“in…porn”

Once again, a comically dramatic gasp ripped through the air from Y/n. she knew of porn, her brother had gotten caught watching it once and that’s the first time she found out people have sex on camera. That was another huge shock to her, yet this one seemed bigger.

“You watch porn?!”

“shush! you’re going to get me in trouble y/n” Harry shot her a glare, yanking her forward to sit on his bed with him, his palm moving to cover her mouth. “Don’t yell that! It’s a secret”  Harry cast a nervous glance towards his shut bedroom door before removing his hand from her face. Y/n giving his chest a nice swat with furrowed brows. “Don’t do that again, jerk” Harry simply rolled his eyes. “Then stop being so loud!”

Y/n pouted slightly, crossing her arms over her chest and huffing. “Or what?” she challenged “Or ill glue your mouth shut.” His fingers moved to flick her forehead, which was a mistake since Y/n then chose to start yelling “MISS AN-“ yet she was silenced by his hand once more. “I’m serious Y/n stop it!”

Y/n suddenly got an idea, decided she’d bargain her way out of this one.

Harry knew that look, his eyes widened realizing she was about to suggest something that he may not want to hear. Y/n was a sweet girl, but she had a bit of a bossy side too.

“If you show me the video, I won’t tell.”

Well, Harry expected something, but definitely not that one. “W-wait what?” he couldn’t believe Y/n had just asked him to show her porn! What was he supposed to say? He knew if he showed her he’d have to take a cold shower, but he didn’t want his mom knowing he watched the videos either. “If you show me the video I won’t tell.” Her statement was very level, the angelic doe eyes coming back to persuade him, and well Harry was a sucker for that look.

__

Soon enough the pair were sat against his headboard, Harry’s laptop open to a private tab with Pornhub opened on it. He chose on of his favorites, a simple pretty tame blowjob video.

“are you sure you want to see it?” his palms were sweating, knees twitching every few minutes trying to control himself and keep his pants from tightening. “Play it, Harry.” Y/n took control, tapping the space bar to start the video.

The logo played before it got to the video, a man sitting on his couch filming his girlfriend kneeling in front of him slowly moving to undress the man in front of her. Y/n watched the screen intently while the woman went to work, tugging the mans cock free and stroking it but Y/n being Y/n the video didn’t suddenly change the atmosphere like it does in a romcom, instead she was full of questions and comments.

“Wow, I didn’t know boys privates looked like that. It looks kind of like a snake.” Harry was happy Y/n wasn’t making the situation too serious, laughing a little breaking the tense atmosphere listening to her talk. He tried to focus his gaze more on the wall in front of him then the porn playing on his computer so he didn’t pop a stiffy in front of her. “Uh…kinda? I guess…” , “Does your penis look like that too?”

Harry choked on air a bit, suppressing a cough. He sweats he can feel himself burning alive from the blush on his face. “I don’t think my penis looks like a snake y/n, no. I think it looks like a penis.” His response got him a ‘hmph’ from his friend which he of course, laughed at. Yet he wasn’t entirely prepared for her next sentence.  

“Show me yours?”

This time Harry’s eyes were the ones wide as saucers, his jaw slightly slack and body gone tense. “What?!” Y/n giggled, finding his reaction a bit silly since they were already watching two people engage in oral, how is this any more shocking? “What? Show me yours” she shrugged slightly, Harry was trying to keep his head from exploding but an idea popped into his brain right before the urge to combust took over.

“I show you mine, you show me yours?”

“Harry I don’t have a penis.” Y/n replied with a ‘duh’ eye roll, causing an annoyed groan to come from her friend. “I am aware of that, smarty pants. I mean…if I show you my penis, you show me your boobs.”

He expected to get a smack or a immediate refusal from her, but surprisingly Y/n nodded, “That’s fair, I’m not putting your penis in my mouth just for the record.” She gave him a pointed look as her hands traveled up to loosen her uniform tie and start fumbling with the buttons of her shirt.

The boy felt frozen in place watching his best friend start to undress in front of him. His teenage boy mind was going crazy, this was the first time he was going to get to see boobs in person, he was a bit scared he might keel over and die from a hormone overdose.

“What are you waiting for? You’re supposed to show me yours. I’m not taking my boobs out if you’re not holding your end of the bargain up ,Harry.” Y/n’s hands stilled, giving him a pointed look that broke his trance quickly fumbling with his pants to shove them off his hips the outline of his plumping cock showing against the white and grey checker print of his boxers.

“Who’s gonna go first?”, his throat felt painfully dry while he talked swallowing hard after he finished. “You duh!” the girl pushed his shoulder lightly and pointed to his crotch waiting for him to reveal himself.

The boy took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he tugged his cock through the flap in the front of his underwear. He grunted quietly, the cold air hitting his swollen tip. For a few moments nothing was said, Y/n quietly observed his organ taking in the details and pondering her thoughts before speaking, “Yours looks better than his, it’s prettier. Still kind of looks like a snake though.”

Harry sighed, he was glad she didn’t make a comment on his size or anything negative but the snake comment wasn’t exactly the erotic language he needed to get himself off, and then he remembered the deal. “Your turn.”

Y/n nodded, giggling a little bit as she unhooked the clasps of her bra and let them slip down her arms. Her breasts finally came into Harry’s view and god his balls were already constricting. He feared he’d really be the guy who cums in 2 seconds just looking at a girl, but this would be the right situation for it. Y/n didn’t have any clue how long boys lasted so if he was to bust then she probably wouldn’t tease him she’d just have more questions.

“God…they’re pretty Y/n.” The girl smiled shaking her chest a little so they bounced in front of his eyes. “Thanks, I grew them myself. I’m a b cup” she was adorable, so blissfully unaware of what she was doing for him. A smile and playful giggles still radiating from her while he was trying to keep himself from passing out.

“Can I touch-“

His request was soon cut off, not by Y/n but by the door swinging open and his shocked mother standing behind it.

[airplanned]

It’s Glaringly Obvious

More Ned-does-it-wrong Whumptober for your fluffy enjoyment!

Prompt 12: I think I've broken something (broken bones)

Prompt 30: Where did that come from? (hiding an injury)

***

At least one of Link's fingers is broken.  It's glaringly obvious, as he's been favoring his right hand while cooking and opening doors and even his usual exuberant hand gestures are a little lopsided. 

He's otherwise acting as if nothing's wrong.  He's gone about his usual daily chores, and done his usual exercises (although he did announce that it was "leg day" as if she ever had any interest at all in his training regimen).  He went into town and bought ingredients for dinner and while he was there, he helped find three lost cows, so it must not be hurting him that badly.

She notes with suspicion that he's wearing full gloves today. 

Definitely hiding something.

He grins at her across the table as they sit down to dinner (which he made).  Maybe she's wrong.  He picks up his spoon with his left hand.  Maybe she's right.

She bows her head in a prayer of thanks for the meal, and throws in a prayer at the end for Link's hand. 

"How was your day?" she asks.

"Good," he says.  He scoops the whole radish out of his soup and balances it on his spoon.  "I found some cows."

"That is impressive.  And how are you feeling?"

He thinks for a second.  Then says, "I feel kinda gross.  Cows are gross."

"Indeed."

They eat in silence for a moment.  They're sitting catty-corner from each other, as there's a large chunk of a dissected guardian turret on the other side of the table.  She watches him from the corner of her eye before getting an idea.  She’s going to make him use his hand.

She reaches over and places her own hand on his knee.

He looks up at her, curious, but when he sees her meeting his gaze head on, his face softens.  The smile he gives her is fond.  He shifts slightly closer to her in his seat so she doesn't have to reach so far.

He does not cover her hand with his own.  He does not remove her hand from his person.

Instead, he goes back to eating.

Frustratingly, dinner ends without her gaining any more information about his silly hand.

#

Link most likely has a broken rib.  It's glaringly obvious, as he has been visibly wincing every time he's lifted something or reached for something or turned or sat down since he came home from his monster hunt.  When he goes into the storage area to get plates for dinner and he thinks she can't see him, he makes an attempt at stretching, reaching an arm over his head.  But then he hisses and shrinks in on himself, slapping his elbow to his wounded flank and grabbing at his side with his other hand.

She stomps to the doorway, plants her hands on her hips, and demands, "Are you hurt?"

He spins on her, his eyes wide with the knowledge that he's been caught.

"No," he says.  "Just--you know--stretching."  He draws his arm across his chest and locks it in place with his opposite forearm.  He grins at her and then gives a happy sigh as he releases. 

He definitely just stretched the uninjured side.

She narrows her eyes at him.

On further consideration, she's unsure if it's a broken rib or some kind of flesh wound.  She analyzes how his tunic is lying across his side, trying to detect the bulge of a bandage.

She needs to get a look at it.  Or, barring that, she needs him to admit that there's something wrong with his side.  And then let her look at it.

He collects a basket full of ingredients to haul outside to the cooking pot, and she moves to grab it for him. 

"I got it," he says, one of his eyes twitching as he lifts it.

Again, she tries to take it.  "Let me get it for you.  You shouldn't be lifting that much weight."

He twists away from her with a grunt.  "Why not?"

"Because you're hurt."

"I'm fine.  I think you just want to stand too close to me."  He winks at her.

She flushes and takes an instinctive step back.

He grins and walks past her and--

Ugh!  Absolutely infuriating.

Outside, he's set himself to chopping up vegetables with tiny little chops.  She takes a seat nearby and ponders how to make Link crack. She needs to ask him to do some serious physical activity so he'll call uncle.  Or would that just hurt his body more when he refuses to hurt his pride?  She doesn't actually want to injure him really. 

It's a puzzle.

He's stirring slowly when she gets an idea.  Wanting to stand too close to him, is she? 

She scoots closer.  And closer.  And then leans against him under the guise of smelling dinner.  She looks over at him from just a few short inches away and beams.  "That smells delicious."

He smiles back.  Leans against her a bit before turning back their meal.

She reaches up and traces the stitching on the edge of his tunic, letting her fingers drag.  When he turns back to her, she gives him a flirty look from under her eyelashes.  At least she hopes it's flirty.  She's not an expert.

He gives her a bemused look.  "You're frisky tonight."  Then he turns back and stirs the soup some more.

Frisky!?  She is indignant.  Yes, she is--technically--trying to seduce him in hopes that he'll go "Oh ouch!  My side!"  But "frisky"?

He calls her frisky and then turns back to his pilaf?

That will not do at all. 

With a huff, she snatches his spoon from his hand, throws it aside, twists so she's straddling his lap, and kisses him.

Let's see him turn away from that!

He makes a muffles noise of surprise, but then grabs for her back and pulls her closer.  The kiss turns eager, desperate, and--wait, she had a mission.  He was supposed to refuse her because he was so injured and she was supposed to throw a victorious finger in his face and--oh shit, she's kissing Link.

She doesn't stop kissing him.

He moans into her mouth, and she's not sure if it's in delight or discomfort.  Maybe she shouldn't be doing this.  Because of his injury.

Neither of them stop. 

A few minutes later, one of his hands is in her shirt, and she's rucking up his tunic, and it's snagged on something, and--

He breaks the kiss with a curse, and she blinks at him in confusion until her senses return.  Her hand is most definitely grazing a bandage. She yanks his shirt up to his armpits for a better look. 

"Ah ha!" she says.  She grins at him, but she's much more breathless than she was in her imaginings of this moment.  "I knew it."

"You're very smart," he agrees, then grabs the back of her head and drags her in for another kiss.

#

Link has been shot in the leg.  It’s glaringly obvious, as the arrow is still there, sticking out the side right under his knee.  The leg gives out beneath him as he stumbles towards her, and he falls to one knee.

“Oh Goddess, Link!”  She runs to him, bending to grip his shoulder.

Wincing, he says, “It’s fine.  I’m good.”

“You are most certainly not good.  You’ve been shot in the leg!”

“I’m...It’s fine.”

She frowns at that, and then straightens up and crosses her arms over her chest.  If he’s fine, then he doesn’t need her help.  “I see, so you’re just on the ground for the fun of it.”

“I’m not on the ground.  This is...a kneel.”

“Well then, excuse me.  Carry on.”

“I...meant to be down here.”

“Oh?  Tying your shoe, are you?”

His boots do not have laces, but he looks down to check anyway.

“I...um...” His eyes dart around for an excuse.  

She waits with pursed lips until his frantic searching lands on her face.

“Um.  Will...you marry me?”

She blinks at him.  And then explodes.  “I beg your pardon!?”

He puts some effort into making his voice sound more confident, as if that will make a difference.  “That’s what I’m doing down here.  Asking you to marry me.”  

He reaches for her hand, and she bats him away.

“I can’t believe you would—This is— Ugh!  What on earth would you do if I said yes?”

“...Get...married?”

“Ugh!”  She throws her arms in the air and starts to pace.  Link, of course, stays where he is.  “I can’t believe you would be so flippant about—This is a serious matter, and—am I’m just a joke to you?”

“No!  What?  Zelda, marry me.”

“Why would I do such a foolish thing?”

His brows crinkle in confusion.  Or maybe pain.  “Because I love you?”

“Ha!”

She considers leaving him here in the road.

“Are...you turning me down?” he asks.

“Are you seriously asking me to marry you instead of admitting you’ve been shot?”

He nods.  “I’m seriously asking you to marry me.”

She stops pacing and narrows her eyes at him.  He gives her his most hopeful look.

“Fine,” she says.  “I’ll agree when you admit there’s an arrow in your knee.”

He stares at her.  Then he licks his lower lip.  It takes him a very long time to say, “Um.  Clearly you can see...”

He gestures at his leg and trails off.

She folds her arms again, stares him down, and waits.

“Zelda,” he says.  “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  And I’ve been shot.  In the leg.  With an arrow.”  

...Well.  That’s...

“Actually, there’s also a second one in my shoulder.”

“Link!”

[aclosetfan]

ask game number 10?

(ask game) thank you so much for asking!!!!

BUBBLE BAND ♥♥♥

YESSSS YESS haha yessss someone chose 10!!!!!! So pumped for this one. For new fandom members (lmao I’m like a damn fandom historian), battle of the band fics got really popular for half a second b/c of the punks. I outlined my own where the punks are included but with a twist. No powers au, multi chap fic.

My outline is really detailed because I know I’m going to be writing this one!! It’s just too much fun, but I’m only gonna give you the jist, I don’t want to spoil too much :))) I’ve got like six pages of notes and I’m still not done mapping it all out. It’s supposed to be goofy as well as a big s/o to everyone who watched cringy amvs on youtube in the early 2000s <3

BACKGROUND:

Brick (lead guitar), Butch (bass), and Boomer (drums) are three brothers with a shitty garage band. They think they’re hot shit. They’re not hot shit (not yet). They’re good at playing their instruments but they don’t have a big following (or any good songs). On a good night, Mojo (their adopted father) indulges them and brings the crowd to a stunning total of 1.

PLOT:

One day, Boomer gets it in his head that he doesn’t want to be a punk rocker anymore. It’s dumb, he’s bored, and obviously, he is the next Picasso, so he quits the band. Brick all but disowns him as a brother. Butch is like dude I’d be cool staying in the band and Brick goes “you don’t have a choice!” Butch is like “aight, but now that Boom’s gone, can we maybe play a song I wrote?” Brick’s like, “no!” Butch is like “aight. That’s fair it’s dumb anyway. No harm, no foul bro. How are we going to get a new drummer as good as Boomer?” Brick’s like, “we’ll find someone better!” They won’t because, to give credit where credit is due, Boomer is quite a good musician.

Butch is like well this still sucks though cause we just got all those t-shirts. Like we’re broke af and they’ve got Boomer plastered on the front of them too. We can’t just replace them. Brick’s like “we’ll find someone better and someone who looks like him nbd.”

Brick and Butch don’t know any other drummers and they certainly don’t know anyone who drums and also looks like Boomer, so they make flyers~  

“Annnd,” Brick chirped, grabbing the page from the printer, “done. There. Perfect. We just need to make like a thousand more of these and post them around the City.”

Butch yanked the flyer from his hand with a frown, his eyes jumping around it before he grimaced, “Man, I dunno.”

“What?”

“Must have blonde hair, blue eyes,” Butch looked up, “reads kinda neo-nazi-ish.”

Brick ripped the page from Butch with wide eyes, rereading the flyer. After a second he hissed, “Ah fuck. Fucking Boomer.”

“He ruins everything.” Butch solemnly agreed.

“Fascist can’t even be punk.” Brick huffed, glaring at the flyer.

Together they sat back in their chairs and regarded the flyer before turning their attention back to his cracked computer screen. After a few moments of hmm’ing and haa’ing, Brick snapped his fingers and leaned over his keyboard. He made the font big, bold, and red so it couldn’t be ignored at the bottom of the flyer:

‘CAN’T BE A FKING SKINHEAD’

“Dude,” Butch nodded, reading over his shoulder, “it’s beautiful.”

And then the boys post the flyers everywhere. Including their school, where most people ignore them regularly. Their flyers however become popular scratch paper for the art department where one Ms. Bubbles Utonium stumbles upon them. She takes it as a sign. She’s a bit of a drum hobbyist, but her dad has had enough of the racket and she needs to find a new place to play. She’s not practiced or anything, but she fits the four requirements to a “T”. She has blonde hair. She has blue eyes. She can play the drums. And she isn’t a skinhead! She thinks it’s silly they even had to clarify that. She’s not too into punk music but even she knows fascists can’t be punk! So on the day of auditions, she shows up with her drum sticks and gets in line!!

Brick and Butch are floored when Bubbles Utonium comes strutting in. They only know her because she’s a popular cheerleader at their school and shares an art class with Boomer, who only ever complains about the perky upbeat girl. Their first thought is to laugh, but when she starts playing, they’re like “oh?” She’s inexperienced, but she’s got a knack for it, and (as Butch points out) she is not a skinhead. Since she’s the best they’ve seen all day they offer her the position on the condition that she dresses like a dude when they play because of their t-shirt dilemma. She tells them that’s no problem, she likes playing dress-up, but they’ve got to work band practice around her cheer schedule. They agree.

The RowdyRuffs are a band once more.

Boomer btws is NOT AT ALL jealous. Not at ALL. Nope. (he totally is and he’s very obvious about it). In one of the early band practices that he barges in on to “check out the new drummer,” he’s ten shades of betrayed when he sees Bubbles of all people in his seat. He does not like Bubbles. Bubbles thinks Boomer is the bees-knees. He doesn’t like her because she’s good at just about everything he wants to be good at—except for drumming, which he proves then and there and is like “your new drummer sucks, later losers, you wish you still had me, by the way, dad wanted me to tell you he’s making tacos and they’ll be ready in ten.” Bubbles is not deterred by his behavior, thinks how he plays is really cool, and wants him to teach her, which he continuously refuses to do, but that doesn’t stop her from pestering him. (eventually, he does tho just a fyi; Bubbles is hard to resist)  

Jumping forward in time, Princess becomes involved as their PR manager and decided that Bubbles shouldn’t act as Boomer anymore. They need “horny old man money” and everyone’s like ooooh yeah, horny old man money, neat! So, in all her genius, Princess decides to make Bubbles “Brat.” And boom! Here’s our first powerpunk girl.

It’s a hit with the crowd that the band is slowly starting to amass. After accidentally hearing Butch goof around on his bass, Buttercup ((((Bubbles’ sister, who at the beginning of the story takes pity on Butch and Brick and volunteers to help teach her sister how to be “punk rock”. She is also forced to drive Bubbles to and from band practice (because Buttercup is being punished for failing math)))) encourages him to pitch his songwriting to the rest of the band. He refuses. Brick’s the guy who writes the songs, who’s very bad at it.

However, after another shitty song about some mystery girl Brick swears he doesn’t have a crush on, Bubbles has enough and assigns the boys some songwriting homework. Butch writes a banger and their little band gets more recognition. They’re now playing sizeable gigs, but wait! OH NO! Bubbles and Butch aren’t going to make it to the show on time. Boomer’s like, “shit Brick! The show must go on, dude, but where are you going to find two people who know how to play the exact same instruments as Butch/Bubs, know all their cues, and all the songs in the next ten minutes????” Brick looks at Buttercup (plays bass like Butch/almost at all the band practices/has a lovely voice despite what she says) and Boomer (who was Bubbles before Bubbles) and goes “huh, genius, I wonder.” Buttercup’s like “oh no, wait wait! I’ve got stage freight!” To which Brick says, “get over yourself and join my shitty fucking band!”  

And that’s how we get our Brute <3 (named by Brick). She’s a hit!

They just keep getting bigger and bigger as a band, and record labels are starting to take an interest, so after Brute debuts, everyone’s like welp, Brick needs his counterpart too. And it’s eventually Blossom, but that comes about in a roundabout way because Brick’s feelings are still hurt (she’s the girl he was crushing on, but she rejects him). Eventually, Bubs is like “listen, Brick, we need a Berserk (Butch name’s this imaginary person), and it's coming down to the wire. Blossom can do it. I know she can. It’s for the band.” So, he sucks it up and Blossom hesitantly accepts (she’s very much preppy pop to whatever Berserk is lol so it’s difficult for her at first). After a heart-to-heart with Brick, they make amends (I think I’ll leave it platonic for now tbh) and their first show altogether is a hit!

As always, there’s a happy ending :) They get their record deal lol.

I can’t write songs. I’m shit at poetry, but I was thinking about just choosing irl music and mashing them up, so the music is still “original” but people can also be like omg I remember that horrible song from my emo “phase.” I have to find a good song list first. If anyone’s still reading send me some recs. The music I like is too embarrassing.  

[heartofsnark]

Rent-Free (Johnny Silverhand/OC Female V)

Notes; IVE BEEN ENABLED AGAIN!!!!!! AHHHHH BLAME @rosyibby, but uh, yeah basically given how much we talk about Johnny living rent free in V’s head, it made me think of paying rent through other means...*cue the cheesy porn music* Additionally, this does technically go along with my previous Johnny Silverhand fic, but like they’re not so intertwined that you won’t get it. It’s porn, you’ll catch on. Thanks for all the love on my previous nasty Johnny porn. 

Word Count: 2334

Warnings: Oral, Cunnilingus, Unprotected Sex (hologram fucking has perks), Vaginal Sex, Kissing, Johnny being gross, Dirty Talk, I’m lowkey still insecure on writing dirty talk, so hopefully this isn’t bad, also yeah game still isn’t out so he’s prob ooc to some degree

Hot water rushes from the shower head, relaxing Aidan’s aching muscles. Silence around her as she works shampoo into her hair, a welcomed moment of peace in her life, something that’s been so absent since this mess has begun. It’s late, around four in the morning, she just finished a smuggling run with Jackie. Things went south as they often do, her entire body aches from the shootout, but they got out alive and that’s all that matters.  

She works and lather soap into her skin, feeling the roughness of scars gathered contrasting against the soft give of her body. Aidan squeezes her own breast, feeling the heat and tingle of pleasure from her own groping fingers. She starts to move her other hand further down between her thighs, wanting to take advantage of the moment of calm. 

“You pent up again?” 

“God damn it!” She yells out when Johnny’s voice rings through her head, nearly slipping in her own shower. And he laughs at her as he always does, she quickly finishes washing, before stepping out. 

Johnny is leaning against the bathroom wall, arms crossed in front of him as he watched Aidan walk past, no shame in the way his dark brown eyes drag across her naked frame. Weeks have passed since their little…interaction when she tried to find a hookup. The encounter wasn’t brought up again, Aidan refusing to acknowledge it. 

And she still doesn’t acknowledge it, the weird sexual tension that’s been created between her and the ghost in her head. 

“Don’t rush on my account,” Johnny says as she quickly dries off and throws on an overside shirt along with a pair of shorts. She’ll just get to sleep as soon as possible, ignore the dampening heat in her core. 

“You’re the actual worst, you know that?” She grumbles as she leaves the bathroom, making a beeline for her bedroom. Hopefully, none of Johnny’s memories or brain weirdness will come through her dreams, she needs some peace. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve told me a billion times, well, that is when you weren’t screaming my name or thinking about riding my-“ 

“Shut the fuck up!” She yells out, her neighbors must think she’s crazy, but she can’t help but scream at him as she flops back on her bed. 

Aidan can feel his gaze on her, looking up to see Johnny standing at the foot of her bed, looking down at her. The position reminds her of that night, him watching her getting fucked, the heat in her core rises again. There’s a lazy calmness in the way he looks her over , no hurry or fervor, just taking her in. His eyes hovering around the plush of her thighs, moving up to where her shirt has ridden up, revealing an expanse of her soft stomach. 

“Seriously,” she starts to speak again, hoping her words can cool the heat gathering between her thighs, “you’re like the worlds shittiest roommate.” 

“Am I?” 

“Yes, you really fucking are. You have no boundaries, you do nothing but annoy me, I can’t rid of you, hell, at least a roommate might pay rent.” 

“Oh, you need me to pay rent? Sure, just let me get my wallet,” Johnny says, reaching into his pocket just to pull out his middle finger.

“Cute.” She rolls her eyes, of course he’s going to be a shit about it. 

“Cute enough for you to throw your panties at.” 

“Shut up! Just shut up!” 

He lets out a low chuckle, resonating deep in his chest, the sound stoke the flames in her center just that much more. Why is he so fucking attractive? Then she feels it, a hand grabbing at her shin, the rough callouses of his right hand. 

“You really want me to start contributing something?” There’s a teasing tone to his voice. 

“I mean, I know you can’t, but you could at least stop irritating me.” 

“Eh, don’t think I can, but I can think of something I can do that might make you a little less tense,” he says, hand skimming further up her leg. 

“Seriously, offering sex in place of rent, you watch that much porn?” 

“C’mon, Samurai, we’re way past the point of you pretending you don’t wanna fuck me, don’t you think?” 

And he’s probably right. 

“I’m definitely right.” 

“You know reading my mind is not attractive, right?” 

“Yet, you still find me attractive, funny how that works.” 

“Fine, fine,” she covers her face with her arm, cheeks burning red, “I wanna fuck you, happy?” 

“I mean, wasn’t exactly a secret, but it’s nice hearing you admit it.” 

“Shut up and touch me.” 

And then he’s over her, knees on her mattress on either side of her hips, hands grabbing the bottom of her shirt. He’s quick and rough as he yanks it off over her head, throwing it across the room. She barely has a moment to take in the cool air from her chest being exposed before he’s groping and touching her, the contrast between the smooth cold metal of his left hand and the warm calloused fingers on his right makes her whimper, arching her back to meet his touch.  The feeling of his thumbs rubbing over her nipples draws another gasp from her throat and then the heat of his mouth connects to her chest. 

“Fuck,” she curses as he works harsh kisses down her body, his touch is hungry and passionate, but most importantly of all completely unpredictable. 

There’s no patterns to where he kisses; whether it’s her collarbones, the plush of her breasts, her ribs, or her stomach. No way for Aidan to know if it’ll be the press of his lips, the laving of his tongue, or the bite of his teeth. The only constant is the scratch of his beard, rubbing her tender skin raw under his touch. She tries to wrap her fingers in his hair, to wrap the dark strands around her fingers but he moves too quickly, and she only gets a brief touch of them. 

A sharp nip just above the waistband of her shorts is her only warning before he’s yanking them off of her. Rough fingers run through her slit, just a fleeting touch as Johnny gathers her slick on his fingers. 

“You’re soaked.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be keeping my mouth busy,” he tells her before sucking his fingers into his mouth, licking her wet from his own skin. 

Then he’s practically bending her in half, pressing her thighs back to her chest, the force lifting her hips and ass off the bed. The position completely opens her up to him, no way to hide her cunt from his view. Before she can squirm or get embarrassed, his mouth is on her. His tongue licking through her folds, lapping up every drop of slick. He eats her out like he’s desperate for it, like he needs to drink up every gush of wet to survive, licking deep inside of her. His tongue finding every spot that will make her wetter. 

His beard rubs the lips of her sex raw, but she can’t find it in her to mind the edge of pain, when his tongue runs up to her clit. No true pattern, no way to predict how long he’ll go between sucking harshly on the bundle of the nerves to licking around it; back and forth between too much and not enough. The heat inside of her is reaching a boiling point, nearly crashing over the precipice of pleasure, but he pulls back before she can meet her end every time. She buries her fingers in his hair, finally feeling the softness of the locks, but she despite her pressing she can’t control his pace. 

And he stops. 

She whines at the loss of pleasure as he pulls away from her. Slick coats his lips and chin, shining in the moonlight that drifts into her bedroom. His looks are grossly unfair for someone who’s both dead and technically in his eighties. Oh god, she’s fucking an eighty something year old digital ghost-

He presses his lips to her and she can’t help gasp, tasting herself on his tongue. Johnny presses down on her body, so his body weight presses her thighs down against her chest, erection grinding into her pussy and her ankles practically on his shoulders. Her slick on his chin presses wetly against her, as his tongue pushes deeply into her mouth. She meets his lips and the passion of it, trying to taste Johnny through her own wet, taking in where he tastes like cigarettes.  

“Stop thinking,” he tells her as he pulls away, realizing the lip lock was to stop her train of thoughts about all the reasons this is wrong. 

“I really wish I could, sorry, but I mean…can you honestly say this isn’t fuckin’ weird?” 

“Who gives a shit?” 

“Wow, that fixed all my anxiety, thank you for you endless wealth of wisdom.” Aidan rolls her eyes. 

“So, the goal is now to fuck you hard enough your brain shuts off, got it.” 

“I wi-” she pauses when she feels his cock pressing against her thigh, smearing pre-cum on her skin, “when did you get naked?” 

“I’m a hologram, I can just do that.” 

“Wha-so when you only had your dick out last time, that was purely for effect?”  Aidan is grinning and already on the verge of laughing at the idea of Johnny being that committed to pretending he has to undo his pants. 

“I mean, kinda…” 

And she bursts out laughing, it’s just too silly and ridiculous, he’s so fucking dramatic. How could one man be so dramatic? What the fuck? Her stomach hurts with the force of her laughter. 

“Don’t laugh at me when I’m trying to fuck you.” 

She tries to stifle her laughter , biting her lip as she looks up at Johnny, he’s smiling. Not a smirk or some smug expression, just a soft little smile, as he looks down at her. The anxiety and tension that has started to creep back up have mostly subsided, humor settling her nerves. 

He grinds his cock down against her slick cunt, reminding her of what they’ve been building up too. 

“This is like…safe, right?” 

“Don’t worry, can’t knock you up or anything. I’ll just fuck you like I’m trying to.” 

Her face flushes red at his words and then he thrust his hips, sliding into her. She screams out his name, between the position and her own slick, he hits deep inside of her, no resistance as her body takes him in. He doesn’t tease or hold back, his entire length pressing into her, filling her completely. 

“Fuck, I knew you’d be tight, but god damn, feel like I’m break you open.” 

“Ah, uhhh, don’t say weird shit.” 

Johnny’s thrusts are punishing and harsh, brutal in the snap of his hips and she wishes she could hear the wet slap of their bodies connecting over and over again. 

“What, don’t wanna hear about how your cunt is choking my dick.” 

“Mnnnn….” All she can respond with is a whine. 

“Don’t wanna hear about how I’m gonna fill you up, how I’m gonna make you leak my cum.” 

“Johnny…” 

He’s pounding into her, each thrust and stroke of his cock inside of her building up the heat inside of her, tightening the tension in her core. The head of his dick hits deeply, harshly fucking against the sensitive spot deep inside of her. Slick keeps her able to take it all, despite the roughness and the size of him, each slam of him into her making more gush out. She can feel her own wet dripping down her the curve of her ass.

“Gonna rearrange your fuckin’ guts, make sure you fit me and no one else.” His voice is tight with a slight growl, movements speeding up. 

And while a part of her knows it’s dramatic, just bedroom talk if his dick was in her organs, they’d have some issues. But, she swears he’s doing exactly that. Carving out his place inside of her, a place only meant for him, so deep inside of her she can feel it in her throat. Stroking the embers of a fire that only he can turn into an inferno.

When that inferno of pleasure builds too high, the tension within her snaps, the bubble burst, and she’s crying out incomprehensibly as she cums on his cock. Everything whites out, mind empty as her body is overridden with pleasure, cunt clenching around him and body squirming as he keeps fucking her through her orgasm. 

“Holy fuck, you’re gonna milk me dry, fuck!” 

And he cums inside of her, hot and warm, flooding her with it. Heavy thick spurts of white coating her insides until it’s too much for her body to hold in, dripping out where the two connect. Her body is still twitching and squirming as she works through her aftershocks, once she’s a little more in touch with reality, she wonders whether his cum on her sheets will need cleaning. 

He pulls out of her and even more of it spills out, Aidan whimpers between the loss of him inside of her and the mess on her thighs. Johnny rolls over to lay next to her, it still astounds her just how real he feels, his body heat next to her own. 

She wants to lay on him, she realizes, a desire to lay her head on his chest. Aidan isn’t seriously considering cuddling with him, is she losing her mind? 

“Just ask for what you want, dumbass.” 

He wraps an arm around her sweaty shoulder and tugs her in against him, her cheeks reddening as she hides her face in his chest. There’s a lot she could mull over, a lot to think about, but with her eyelids growing heavier…it’s best to leave it alone for the night, to take Johnny’s advice for once and stop thinking so much. 

[thiswasinevitableid]

5, sternclay, nsfw? 👀

Here you go

5: Incubus

“Buddy, I promise, you can come in and cuddle in like, ten minutes.” 

The whining at the bedroom door stops, replaced by a big, wet nose, just visible through the crack at the bottom of the door as it snuffles back and forth. It’s very cute, but Barclay is not about to let his dog deprive him of a much needed jerk-off session.

He’s ready for bed, so it’s just a matter of pulling down his pajama pants and getting to it. Closing his eyes, he pictures that cute customer who gets black coffee and a croissant every morning at the Lodge. It takes a few tries to find a fantasy he likes, the one about the back counter and the new uses for a spatula.

Outside the door, Sass starts whining again, scratching frantically at the wood. There goes his deposit. 

God, he can practically feel the guy up against him.

The bed dips on the outside of each thigh. Opening his eyes reveals a man wearing nothing but deep blue boxer briefs and a smile. 

“Holyshitwhatthefuck?” He clambers back, banging his head on the wall in his hurry to sit up, “what the fuck man, how’d you get in here?”

“A portal between dimensions.  That’s the, um, simplified version. But don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. The opposite really. I’m an incubus.”

“Why the fuck is a fucking sex demon in my bedroom?” Barclay yanks his pants up. The incubus looks sad at this development. 

“I feed on sexual energy, and to do that I follow trails of that same energy to their source. You have a lot of it.”

“Yeah, year-long dry spell’ll do that.”

“Consider it broken.” The demon leans forward only for Barclay to hold up a hand.

“Nope. This is not how I want to break it. Sorry.”

“Is it my appearance? I can look like anyone--or anything--you want.” His features morph, eyes going from brown to blue to green, hair from honey-blond to fire red, “if you’re shy, my powers let me see into your deepest fantasies and make them come true.”

“No that’s not the problem, I wanna fuck someone I have some kinda connection to, not some guy who dropped into my bedroom. And would you please knock it off with that face-changing? I’m not gonna fuck you, so you can just look like yourself.”

The incubus starts, surprised by his sharp refusal, features landing on short, black hair, blue eyes, and a face that’d make a movie-star insecure. 

“I said you don’t have to try and be hot.”

“...This is how I look.” 

“Oh. Uh. Cool.” 

The demon smiles, “Having second thoughts?”

He takes a deep breath and lies through his teeth, “Nope.”

With that, he stands, grabbing the nearest shirt and pulling it on. Sass wiggles when he opens the door, takes one look behind him, and runs the other way.

“I wish I knew why earth canines react that way to me. I have a hellhound named Mother Leeds who adores me.”

“Jersey Devil reference?” He pads into the kitchen, starts the kettle and rummages in the cabinet for the most soothing tea blend he owns. 

“Yes!” The demon grins from his new position by the fridge, “when I found her she was pregnant with a litter. Most people don’t get it. Demons don’t either.”

“Friend of mine likes Mothman and all that kinda stuff. Uh” He takes a cup down, reaches for a second one automatically and then stops, “are you gonna hang around? Because my answer isn’t changing and if you keep pestering me I’ll just leave the apartment.”

“No, I’ll drop it. You’re not interested and sexual energy only works if it’s from something consensual. But, um” he toys with a magnet, “could I ask a few questions before I go?”

“About?”

“Humans. How things work up here, what your daily lives are like, that sort of thing.”

“Uh, sure.” He gets down the second mug, “is this so you can better seduce them or something?” Turning, he finds the incubus sitting at the table, producing a small notebook and pen from the air.

“No, this is my own research. I’m, um, more curious about humans than the average demon. I basically ended up an incubus because at my last job I kept trying to talk with humans or spend more time around them than was wise and, well, my supervisor got sick of it. So they offered me a reassignment to a role where the whole point was to be around people.”

“You fuck people just so you can, like, interview them afterwards?” He sets the two mugs on the table, notices that the notebook is crammed with questions in neat, elegant handwriting. 

“Technically, I also need the energy from it. But, um, yes” he blushes, “I know it’s a sort of silly hobby.”

“I don’t think it’s silly to wanna know about other worlds and people. But this doesn’t seem like the most, uh, effective way to do it.”

A sigh as the demon picks up his mug, “You’ve got that right. Sometimes I can get a few questions in during ‘pillow talk’ but mostly it’s in and out. Literally.” He snickers at his own bad joke, which further kindles the inexplicable, protective impulse Barclay feels towards him, “Don’t get me wrong, I like my work, and being a good incubus takes skill and dedication. It just...isn’t quite what I thought it’d be.” He sips the tea, brings the mug away from his mouth to study the liquid, “what kind is this?”

“Mostly chamomile.” 

“Chamomile…” he flips through the book, which contains more pages than should be physically and spatially possible, “that’s a plant, one that humans thing is calming, right?”

Barclay can’t help but smile, “Right. You want me to sit here and quiz you?”

“No, there’s too much to discover. What would you say is your area of expertise?” 

“I’m a cook, so food.”

“Food, food, ah here it is. Let’s see, why do humans persist in eating things that could kill them?”

“You mean things like rhubarb or are we in, like, Fugu territory here?”

The demon smiles, “I have no idea, please say more.”

They sit at the table until two in the morning, at which point Joseph ,the incubus, excuses himself to go collect energy from a willing participant. Before he disappears, he takes a chance and tells Joseph that he can come back if he has more questions. The demon thanks him and, out of what Barclay suspects is a habit more than anything else, blows him a kiss goodbye. 

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

“Y’know, I kinda figured you’d look more demonic. Do incubi just get human forms?” Barclay shakes red pepper flakes onto his pizza while Joseph finishes a filled breadstick. 

“This isn’t my ‘true’ form. When you asked me just to look like myself when we met, I figured you meant the least alarming version.”

“As long as it’s not, like, a beast with a thousand eyes, we’re good.”

Joseph wipes his mouth and by the time the napkin reaches the other corner of his lips, Barclay is gasping.

His nails turn sharp and silver, his eyes pure black, but it’s his skin that’s most noticeable; it’s swirls and swoops of blue and silver, dancing down his arms and blooming out from the neck of his  “Museum of Anthropology” souvenir shirt. He stands, giving Barclay a fuller view. Short horns sprout from his head, doubtless the perfect size and texture to hold him in place with your dick down his throat. His tail is that same mix of royal blue and silver, the right length to wrap around your hand and tug while you fuck him. Every inch of him is made to be pinched and pulled, groped and fondled, and Barclay will not be standing up from the table any time soon.

“It’s the color that gets people.” Joseph smiles with pointed teeth as he sits back down.

“It’s incredible, Joseph.”

The demon smiles, mischievous, “I’m glad you like it. Now, where were we?” He uncovers his notebook from a stack of parmesan packets and clicks his pen, appearance fading back to the human one Barclay is used to. He mourns his loss for a moment, before Joseph draws him into an animated conversation about movie theaters. 

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“Come on Sass, it’s okay. Look, I even have your favorite.” Joseph holds out the treat, still fresh from the oven, while Barclay puts the rest of the batch out of range. The dog no longer runs from the demon, but will not come within arms reach of him. 

Sass whines, looking from Joseph to Barclay and back. 

“Here” Barclay settles on the couch next to him, resting his arm along the back of it, “see, buddy, he’s our friend.”

Sass creeps forward, still on his belly, plucks the treat from Joseph’s palm, and retreats to his bed. 

“Progress.” Joseph leans back, pleased. Their positions mean he comes to rest with Barclays arm around him. Barclay doesn’t move it, and the demon stays put until the end of the episode of Hells’ Kitchen

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

The newest Agent X is so engrossing that Barclay doesn’t register Joseph until his friend slumps onto the bed. 

“Hey, you’re early.” He sets the book down on the nightstand, scooching to where the demon sits rubbing his forehead.

“I’m, um, I’m having a bit of a problem.” When he looks up, silver and blue peeks through the skin on his face, “I misjudged how much energy I was going to get from my last two visits. I’m so weak I don’t think I can make it back home. I, um, I came here because if I’m going to be stuck and without powers I” his horns appear and he scratches them awkwardly, “I want it to be around someone I trust.”

“What’ll happen if you can’t get more energy?”

“I’ll get sick, and if the worst happens I’ll have to signal for someone to come get me. Which’ll get me demoted for sure.” He tucks his legs up onto the bed. He’s wearing the UFO socks Barclay gave him as a surprise last week, and the cook sets a hand on a flying-saucer covered ankle. 

“You can stay as long as you need, okay? And if there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know.”

“Unless you feel like taking me door to door to ask your neighbors if they want to fuck, a safe place to rest is what I need most.”

“What if, uh, you recharged here?” He draws a finger up and down the side of Josephs’ calf.

The incubus raises his eyebrows, “Barclay, are you forgetting how we met?”

“I didn’t want to fuck you then, but now...now you’re you, this handsome, clever, dorky guy who also happens to be a sex demon who hangs around my house most nights. I, I didn’t ask about sooner because I was afraid you’d think it was fuck me or lose our friendship, but if I can help you in a kinda self-serving way, I’m down.”

Joseph shakes his head, “That’s sweet, but you’re not the only one with concerns. How can I be sure you actually want me, and you’re not just offering because you want to help?”

Barclay snaps his fingers, “You can read my deepest desires, right? How about you take a peek and tell me what you see?”

Joseph closes his eyes, tail twitching as he concentrates, and Barclay gets the distinct pleasure of watching his face as he learns the truth. 

“Oh. OH. Um, you’re not kidding about how badly you want me. And some of this makes the reaction you had the one time I showed up in a suit make way more sense. But we can explore that later.” His eyes, now-pitch black, snap open, “right now, big guy, I’ll do whatever you want, however you want it.” 

“In that case” Barclay catches Joseph just as he tries for a kiss, “how about you tell me what you want?”

“Barclay, I’m an incubus, I want whatever the person I’m feeding on wants.”

“Nuhuh, I don’t buy that, babe. You’re telling me there’s nothing that’s your favorite, or that you’re curious about?” He teases their lips together.

“N-no?”

“You’re not getting any kisses until you tell me the truth.”

Joseph narrows his eyes with a “hmmph.” Then, as if it’s his greatest secret, he whispers, “I want to know what it’s like to get a massage as foreplay. No one’s ever wanted it or offered, and it sounds so nice.”

Barclay rewards him with a kiss. The demon melts against him, slides a forked tongue into his mouth to tease it. Clawed fingers tug at his shirt until Joseph remembers he can do magic and renders them both naked with a wave of the hand.

When they part, Joseph licks his lips, “Holy hell, Barclay, that kiss was enough to make me feel better than I did this morning. Tastes nice too, like coffee with lots of cream.”

“So, coffee the way you like it.” Barclay nudges him backwards, rolls him over as the incubus keeps talking. 

“Usually it’s a neutral sweetness. I wonder, hmm, maybe it has something to do with the fact you’re attracted to me, as in the actual meOHohhhhhhh” he flattens into the bed like a cat on a sunny floor as Barclay digs his thumbs under his shoulder blades. 

“You can theorize later babe, I promise. Right now, all you gotta do is let me rub you down. Uh, can you magic up some oil or something? It’ll feel better if--great, thanks.” Barclay sets the lit massage candle safely on the nightstand, waiting for it to melt. 

“Should I put my human form back on now that I can hold it?”

“Nope” he traces his hands up parallel patches of silver, pinches one horn playfully, “I love that version of you, but this one is so, so, fucking hot. Now” be kisses the base of his neck, “relax.”

Drizzling liquid wax down his spine makes the incubus moan, but the sound is nothing compared to what happens when he starts kneading him like dough. It’s a yowl, rough and inelegant in a way Joseph never is, and Barclay dedicates the next fifteen minutes to finding new ways to trigger it. He’s so beautiful, it’s like touching a painting, a galaxy, a miracle.

By the time he reaches his lower back the incubus is grinding on the bed and Barclay is half-hard from touching him. He grips Joseph’s ass, parting it enough to grind between the cheeks. 

“Don’t tease” his tail delivers a scolding thwack to Barclays cheek. The cook growls, turning his head to capture the offending appendage between his teeth.

“OHholyffffffuckinghell.” Joseph rips the blanket as he flails, “no one’s ever thought to do that before and now I really wish they had.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He ignores his growing hard-on in favor of nipping and kissing his way down Joseph’s tail. It’s velvety, feels like nothing he’s ever experienced as it twitches and trembles under his tongue. The base gets an extra-hard lovebite and Joseph moans, rolling over so fast he nearly catches Barclay in the face with his cock. And what a cock, on the narrow side but covered in swirling ridges.

“Holy shit, you just get hotter and hotter.”

“Th-thank you, big guy, now for gods sake pleeEEEase fuck me.” He whimpers adorably when Barclay licks up his shaft. 

“Okay babe, we can fuck. But I think…” he grabs the incubus, flipping them so Joseph straddles him, “I want you to fuck me.”

Joseph registers his words and his eyes glow deep blue. 

“Uh, is that a good thing?”

“Yes, big guy, it’s the closest I get to having my pupils dilate when aroused. And since you look so good underneath me, I’ll expedite things” he snaps his fingers and Barclay inhales in surprise; his ass is dripping lube and stretched like someone just pulled three fingers away from it.

“Fuck yeah” he spreads his legs, “c’mon blue eyes, don’t make me wait anymoreOHFUCK, fuck, yeah, like that.” He hooks his legs around Joseph as the incubus thrusts all the way in. Joseph kisses in precise shapes up and down his face, even as his hips keep a rapid, erratic rhythm. 

“Shit, shit, Barclay you taste so good, feel so good, please, please don’t stop touching me.”

“Not sure I could ever keep my hands to myself again, babe, god you’re so fucking handsomeAH, hah, someone got a praise kink?” He gasps out laughter as Joseph fucks him harder with each kind word. The ridges on his cock are solid enough that Barclay feels them with each drag, and it sets his toes curling.

“Maybe a little one” the incubus smiles against his neck, “though kink is a distinctly human concept and a complex one-SHITfuck, fuck please do that again.” He kisses Barclay hard as the human obligingly pulls his tail with one hand and smacks his ass with the other. Teeth catch Barclay’s lower lip on the next tug, a moan spilling from Josephs’ mouth down his chin. 

“That’s it baby, fuck me while I rough you up, fuck, Joseph, your dick is fucking perfect, never gonna want another one, c’mon please, I’m close.”

Joseph sits up, grinning joyfully, and grips Barclays cock. It’s a masterful handjob, because how could a sex demon give anything else, but what strikes Barclay most is how happy and relaxed Joseph is. The incubus admitted once that even when he was having sex, he constantly worried about fulfilling the fantasy to earn enough energy to feed. Yet here he’s laughing and smiling, eyes aglow as he works Barclay up to the best orgasm of his life. 

It means something; Barclay only hopes Joseph will stay in his life long enough for him to figure out what. 

He’s too busy with the sparks behind his eyelids and the pleasure coursing down from his head to his toes to note that Joseph managed to make them cum at the same time. The incubus pushes a hand through his fair, swooping it back and off his face, as he notes this accomplishment. 

“I want to run a marathon. Or maybe go hiking, or swim the lake. I have so much energy. Barclay, it’s amazing. You, it’s never been like that before. It’s felt good, but that was fucking transcendent. 

“No fucking kidding.” Barclay shifts onto his side, nestling up against him so his head is under Joseph’s chin. He yawns, kisses a blue shoulder, “but you might have to burn off some energy without me. You wore me out, blue eyes.”

Joseph adjusts his arms so he’s holding him, “If I stay the night, can I walk Sass with you in the morning?”

Barclay nods, already falling asleep, safe in the knowledge that Joseph is okay and, better yet, so fond of him that his eyes are still glowing, “You got a deal, babe.”

[queen-scribbles]

Vigilance

Post-Echoes of Oblivion Keme/Jorgan, because why not?

---

Keme was trying to be quiet.

And all it took to undo her efforts was a shape darting past the balcony in her peripheral vision. Likely just a flutterplume or something else innocuous, it nevertheless provoked a reaction in her hyper-vigilant state. She managed to bite back the yelp, but her knee banged the table when she jolted. Hard enough to bruise and rattle the blaster rifle component spread in front of her for cleaning.

Dammit. She grimaced and tensed when she heard movement from the bedroom. That was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid, but military careers did not heavy sleepers make.

There was a moment of silence, where she pictured Aric noting her side of the bed was empty(and had been long enough the sheets were cool) and then, just loud enough to carry, “Keme?”

“Out here,” she called back, rubbing her knee and scowling at the window, now empty of whatever had startled her and showing only purple-black sky.

The bed squeaked. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Keme sighed. “I was trying not to wake you, sorry.”

Another beat, another squeak, followed by the shuffled of footsteps and Aric’s voice from the open doorway to their bedroom(she should have remembered to close that). “So if everything’s alright, what’re you doing up?”

She fiddled with the vibration cell for her rifle and didn’t turn to look at him. “Just couldn’t sleep.” Didn’t want to sleep. “This seemed more productive than staring at the ceiling.”

He huffed a quiet laugh as he moved to join her. “You didn’t drink Theron’s caf, did you?”

“Hell, no,” Keme chuckled in return. “I get wired enough off the regular stuff; I think that high-octane abomination he and Hylo drink might kill me.” She let her gaze settle on the scar across his chest as he sat on the couch, ‘looking at him’ without making eye contact for fear he’d read her like a holonovel. 

Unfortunately, he could read the avoidance just as well. “Keme. What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing, you only do this sort of thing when something’s bothering you.”

Her sigh was tinged with a growl. “It’s not... just that I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, meeting his gaze with lingering reluctance. “I don’t want to.”

Aric’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

Keme wrinkled her nose and ran one hand through her hair. “It’s silly...” Part of why I didn’t want to wake you...

“I doubt that,” he scoffed. “You have good instincts, Commander; if it’s bothering you enough to prompt midnight weapon maintenance, odds are it’s not silly.”

She smiled wryly at the confidence in his voice, even rough with sleep, but hesitated a moment before the words finally tumbled out. “I’m worried he’ll still be there.”

“Valkorion?” Aric asked gruffly after a beat.

Keme nodded, tucked back hair the movement freed.”I know he’s supposedly gone for good, but...” She bit her lip and sighed. “I’ve thought that twice, Aric. Twice he was gone and twice he came back.” Her fingers curled into the rug beneath her. “And now even with everyone from Satele to Lana to Senya telling me he’s gone, the Force feels different, I don’t believe it. I’m not connected to the Force like they are, I can’t be sure.” Her gaze dropped to the rifle spread across the table. “I feel like I have to be ready, have to be vigilant, so if he comes back again, I can end him again. However many times it takes.”

He didn’t say anything, but she could feel him watching as she started slotting the pieces of her rifle back together.

She didn’t make it far before setting the half-assembled weapon down and meeting his gaze again. “And I’m afraid even if he never... physically comes back, I”ll still see him in my dreams.”

“Hey. Come here.” Aric reached down and tugged her arm to move her from her spot on the floor to sit next to him. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders to pull her close. “He was in your head, Keme.” He pressed a kiss to her hair.  “While I absolutely believe you’re capable of destroying him for good, it makes sense to worry he’ll pop back up. It’s the furthest thing from silly to consider a devious and powerful enemy having an escape plan; that’s just good tactical sense.”

Her lips curved in a smile at his reassurance and she traced her fingers along the scar on his chest as his thumb brushed over one on her shoulder. “Nice to have someone who doesn’t think I’m just paranoid.”

“Never, boss.” There was a heavy dose of amusement in his voice. “Feel like you’ll be coming back to bed soon, or do you want company out here?”

Keme pulled back enough to shoot him a protesting look. “Jorgan, I can’t ask-”

“You’re not,” he cut her off, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “‘Sides, the Special could prob’ly use a good once-over. It’s been a while.”

She doubted that; he took better care of that rifle than some people did their children. But she also knew what his offering meant, so, “Company would be kinda nice. If you need to clean it anyway...”

He nodded, smiled, and extricated himself with one last kiss to the top of her head. “Be right back.”

Keme eased herself back to the floor as he ducked into the bedroom and resumed reassembling her blaster rifle.

Aric reappeared after a little over a minute, the well-loved duranium-barrel special held in one hand while the other finished yanking on a dark grey t-shirt. He paused a moment to make mental calculations about space, then sat on the floor next to her to start disassembling his sniper rifle for cleaning.

They worked in silence, but just his being there helped settle her frayed nerves after today. He had her back, trusted her instincts, and she trusted him. Thoroughly and implicitly. It didn’t take long for them to finish--she’d been half done when he woke up, and the Special really didn’t need the once-over he gave it.

“Still not tired,” Keme muttered, setting her rifle on the table and rubbing her eyes with thumb and forefinger. She managed to swallow the threatening yawn, but it still stretched her words on the way down.

“Keme.” Aric shot her a skeptical look as he rested his gun across one of the chairs.

“Still don’t wanna sleep,” she corrected herself. She plunked on the sofa, leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling. Much as she hated it, she couldn’t shake the sick dread she’d see him if she fell asleep.

Aric sat next to her, shifting to lean against where the couch arm met the back, and tugged her close again. “Alright.”

The angle had her reclining, and his heartbeat in her ear, and she knew exactly what he was doing. She smiled wryly into his chest. Every time she thought she couldn’t love him more he went and proved her wrong. “You don’t have to stay out here, y’know,” she murmured as she settled in on top of him.

He slid an arm around her and his chin pressed lightly to the top of her head. “I spent five years sleeping without you, like hell that’s happening ever again if I have any say in the matter.”

She laughed against his shirt. “Love you.”

His arm tightened around her briefly, and she’d bet her favorite boots he was smiling. “Love you, too.”

Under the circumstances, Keme wasn’t really surprised when she started drifting off. She was, a little, in that muzzy, half-aware sense, that she didn’t fight it. The steady rhythm of her husband’s heart was an alluring lullaby, and the weight of his arm around her a silent promise it was safe to let her guard down.

So she did. 

Her dreams were much more pleasant than she’d anticipated.

[platypanthewriter]

No Expectations

Just an idea that wouldn’t git, so I wrote it.  Maybe it’ll leave me alone?

Steve’s eye caught on the new guy tending bar at Harvey’s, and he nearly broke his nose dropping the pint glass into his face.  Billy Hargrove wasn’t the very last person he’d expected to run into trying to get another round, he thought—Hitler might might have been more surprising, or Ronald Reagan—but he stared all the same, until Billy looked up and grinned.

“Seen a ghost, Harrington?” he asked, and Steve felt like an idiot for wanting to nod—he knew Max’s brother had made it out of Starcourt Mall, and into intensive care, and then weeks of physical therapy—they’d all taken turns as moral support, helping her pick out awful presents.    

Steve swallowed.  “Max said you left.  ‘Cause your dad’s an asshole.”

“Don’t forget monsters,” Billy grunted, pouring shots with a spin of his wrist, and sliding them across the counter to someone and her gang of friends.  “Dunno why you all didn’t get the hell out of—”

“Why come back?!” Steve asked, not because he minded Hawkins, but because of the thick scars across Billy’s shirtless chest.  He tried to remember what they’d talked about, the last time he’d taken Max, Lucas, and Dustin to sit around Billy’s bed, the day before he left.  

Billy glanced at Steve’s face, then lowered his eyes to the glass he was drying.  “Max needs a roommate while she gets her degree, so I’m back.”

“Oh,” Steve nodded, spinning his empty beer glass against the counter.  Billy’d laughed, startling both of them, when Steve had helped him get to the bathroom, and he’d nearly fallen.  He’d been heavy—and warm, from his blankets, Steve remembered—and Steve had grabbed him with both arms, asking whether he was okay.  Billy had started laughing into his shoulder, muttering “shit, shit, sorry, shit,” the whole way down the hall, and left the next morning.  “You didn’t say anything,” Steve told his glass, and wished he hadn’t, because it sounded childish once it was out of his mouth.

Billy paused in his plucking of mint leaves to look up.  “...what did you—”

“Nothing,” Steve cut him off, looking at the boy who’d shoved him around, hit him with a plate, and nearly died trying to save Eleven.  “Nothing.”  He stood up to pull his coat back on, and Billy half-fell across the counter, knocking over the ketchup and pepper shaker to grab Steve’s glass.  

“On the house,” he said, running to the taps, and Steve opened his mouth to tell him what he’d been drinking, then let him fill it with Bud Lite.  “On the house,” Billy repeated, running back to smack it down in front of Steve, so the suds lapped over the edge.  “Sorry,” he panted, grabbing it back and wiping the glass.  “Here.”

“...okay,” Steve bit his lip, but sat back down, and whover was next to him slammed a fist on the counter, yelling.  Billy got them drinks while Steve contemplated his free beer.  

He was a third through it by the time Billy stopped in front of him again.  “...so,” he said, and Steve snorted.

“You got something to say?” he volleyed back, and Billy laughed, shaking his head.  

“Guess I’ll see you around,” he said, flashing a smile.

Steve tipped his head back and drained the glass, and a shot glass slid out of Billy’s hand and clattered to the floor.  Steve stood on the side bars of the stool to lean over the bar, watching Billy scramble around with an arm under the cupboards.  “...maybe you should learn to bartend,” he suggested, and Billy flipped him off.

“Order a real drink, Harrington—”

“Have to be up early,” Steve told him, grinning down.  “Bet you get to sleep in.”

“You wanna know?” Billy pushed himself up, his back and shoulders flexing, and Steve swallowed.  Billy brushed off his jeans.  “I’m off in two hours,” he said.  “If you…”

“What?” Steve asked, feeling strangled.

“If you want to catch up,” Billy said, shrugging, and Steve blinked.

“Um, you’ve been—Max probably told you everything.”

“Yeah.  Yeah, okay,” Billy shrugged, backing away, and Steve smacked his hands on the counter.  

“No, wait, yeah, let’s—let’s catch up!” he said, too loud, and Billy laughed.

 That night he sucked Steve off in the parking lot, against his station wagon, and Steve garbled “Holy shit,” and “What the hell” and “You’re so good at this” into a stream of gibberish, sinking to land on his butt on the gravel.  

“...some kinda catching up,” Steve panted, his knees on either side of Billy’s. 

“Mmn,” Billy leaned in, heavy against Steve’s chest, kissing up the side of his neck.

“Your place or mine?” Steve whispered, and Billy stilled, then laughed.

“Can’t get enough of me?” he asked, and Steve snorted.

 The next morning, Steve got dressed, brushed his teeth, and then crawled back over the covers, kissing Billy’s shoulder and the side of his head as he laughed, curling deeper into the blankets.  “You haveta work today?” Steve whispered, and Billy rolled to blink up at him.

“Mmpf?” Billy asked, squinting up.  “...why?”

“I’ll be done in an hour or two,” Steve told him, letting his thumb rasp against Billy’s stubble.  “Want me to bring back some food?”

Billy stared up at him for a second, then nodded.  “If you want to come back here.”

“Do you have to work?” Steve asked again.  “I can make myself scarce.”

“Nah, I can go again,” Billy propped himself up on his elbows.  “Kick me awake later.”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve rolled his eyes, and leaned in for a kiss Billy dodged.

“Morning breath, asshole,” Billy whispered.  “Hey.”  

“Mmn?” Steve asked, standing on one leg to tie his shoes.  

“Wait, dickbird, tell me you love me, if we’re gonna play house.” 

Steve leaned on the bed again to shove his blanketed bulk, but leaned in to smack a kiss on Billy’s head.  “See you later, babe, love you, g’bye,” he said dryly, and Billy rolled away, groaning into his pillow.

 When he showed up later, Billy was sitting on the arm of the couch, peeling the label off a beer bottle at eleven am.  “Didn’t know whether to lube up or set out the candles and tablecloth,” he said, laughing, and Steve walked around for another kiss.  

“Honey, I’m home,” he told Billy, who pressed up against him, wrapping a leg around Steve’s butt.  “Daydrinking without me?”

“Welcome back,” Billy whispered, grabbing Steve around the shoulders and falling back onto the couch, so they landed in a pile of limbs.  “Thought maybe you stood me up.”

“In sickness and in health, right,” Steve said against the skin of Billy’s throat, and Billy grabbed him tighter.

“You’re so goddamn weird,” Billy laughed.  “How long you gonna play house with the town fag?”

“What?” Steve stopped mid kiss, breathing against the buzz of Billy’s voice in his throat.

“No, nevermind,” Billy snorted.  “I’ll get it when you stop returning my calls, right.”

Steve pushed himself up, doing a pushup to stare down at Billy Hargrove’s grinning face.  “What?  You—”

“Ssh,” Billy pulled him down again, and in the ensuing kisses, Steve forgot what he’d wanted to say.

 Every so often Billy’d ask again—“How long’re we gonna play house, Harrington?” and Steve would stop to ask what that even meant, and Billy would distract him again, and demand flowers, chocolates, or a welcome-home kiss.  

He didn’t even seem to know what to do with flowers, Steve realized—he just stood staring at them, until Steve rescued them back, cut off the ends, and filled the blender with water as the closest thing to a vase.  For Valentine’s Day, he brought over the biggest, pinkest, sparkliest heart-shaped box he could find, and licked melted chocolate off Billy’s abs, thighs, and eventually, everywhere else.  The next day, he replaced the sheets.

 When Steve sped over from work and walked in on lit candles, covered dishes, and Billy pulling garlic bread out of the oven, Billy said, “Five month anniversary, right?”

Steve tried to remember what day it even was, kicking his shoes off, and Billy laughed, backing away.  

“Just playing,” he said quickly.  “Just playing house.”

“I like playing house,” Steve told him, sliding in his socks across the linoleum to kiss Billy’s neck where he was bent, frowning into the tinfoil.  “Need to talk to you about that.”

“...thought you might,” Billy said, stopping his inspection to clench his fists against the edge of the counter.  “What?”

“Kinda silly, us both having houses,” Steve said, the way he’d practiced in the mirror.  He slid a hand under Billy’s shirt, stroking his thumb over Billy’s taut muscles.  He felt a scar, and grabbed Billy’s hips to turn him, suddenly needing to get his face under Billy’s shirt and kiss his skin.  

“What—what are you saying,” Billy asked hoarsely.

“Don’t like it when you’re not there at night,” Steve told him, looking up from where he knelt on the floor.  “I roll over and there’s this cold space where you aren’t.”

“Holy shit,” Billy said, and he started laughing, but his eyes went all red and shiny, so Steve didn’t mind.  

“I have a garage,” Steve said persuasively, and Billy snorted, coughing.

“That’s your offer?  A garage.”

“You could wash your Camaro and the rain wouldn’t ruin the wax,” Steve tried.  “And there’s no stairs.  I know you hate hauling groceries up here.”

Billy just kept snickering, leaning back against the counter, and Steve bit his lip.  

“Or if you like it better here,” he surrendered, and Billy laughed harder, sinking down to the floor.  Steve wasn’t that attached to his house, he thought.  “I would do all the dishes,” he offered, and Billy tilted to lean against him, burying his face in Steve’s neck.  

“You’re bargaining with me,” he whispered, and Steve shrugged, beginning to wish he hadn’t said anything.

“You can just tell me where to shove it,” Steve forced a laugh, and it came out sharp.  “We can eat.”

“I get to sleep in your bed, though, right,” Billy whispered, sniffling.  “Not the garage.”

“What the hell,” Steve whispered back.  “Don’t make me bite you.”

“Go ahead,” Billy laughed.  “I’m yours.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Steve told him, yanking them both to their feet, so he could slap the keys he’d made into Billy’s hand.  “You want to, right?”

Billy nodded, standing there in the kitchen, holding the keys out and staring down through them.  “I—I want to.  I want to.  Are—are you sure you…”

“What?!” Steve asked, assessing the bread—it looked fine—and sliding it onto the prepared plate.  

“This—this is what you want?!” Billy asked, probably waving at himself like an asshole, and Steve kept his eyes on the precarious stack of bread, spinning to kick Billy lightly in the shin.  

“Stop sounding like you’re the discount version of something,” Steve told him, sticking his tongue between his teeth as he bore the bread out to the table.  “Yeah, I want to fucking play house, come play house with me.  Forever.”

“That sounds kind of ominous,” Billy said, his voice shaky.

“Gonna play the hell out of this house,” Steve muttered, and Billy started laughing again, leaning against his shoulder.  

“Feed me bread,” he commanded, and Steve shoved him, but pulled him back again after grabbing a slice.  “Honey.  Babe.  Lover,” Billy whispered, and Steve shoved the bread in his mouth, feeling his face heat.  

“Hurry up and eat, sweetums,” he whispered back, and Billy choked, coughing.  

 The first morning Steve awoke to sharing a house with Billy Hargrove, he was gone from the bed, and Steve stomped petulantly down to find him naked, in an apron, making breakfast.

He laughed until he cried.

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [19]

Masterlist

~^*^~

You stretched out your body as the sleep slowly began to ebb away and become replaced with full consciousness. As you did, a tingle of pleasure ran down your spine and you mewled. Not feeling fully satisfied, you stretched out once more and made yet another noise of pleasure at the sensation.

“Darling, I assure you that if you continue to make such suggestive sounds, there will be hell to pay.” Dracula warned stoically, his eyes shifting back to his kindle.

“I can’t help it,” you softly whined, rolling over to face him, “it feels so nice to stretch, don’t you agree?”

“I shall agree that it feels good to watch you stretch, but that’s as far as I’ll go.” He smirked at you.

“I’m never stretching again.” You grumbled and turned away from him.

“[First],” he chuckled and extended his hand to grasp your chin and turn your face towards him, “don’t ever change.” With the softest smile, he pecked your cheek.

It was crazy how the most domestic things made you feel so fluttery on the inside. You couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your face and you completely rolled back over, wrapping your arm snugly around his waist. He hummed. He pressed a second kiss to the top of your head. The surreality of the moment dawned on you and you smiled, burying yourself deeper into him. Home had never felt so close.

You thought back three days, after your fight with Dracula and the very positive consequences of that. You had practically ran home, and fled up the stairs to begin to throw your clothes into a suitcase. Jack had rushed up after you and once he saw the smile on your face, he knew his most dreaded nightmare had become a reality. Dracula had returned and he was stealing you away.

“Where are you going?” He had asked, chocking back his emotions.

“We,” you began, “are going back to London.”

“I don’t want to go back to London.” He deadpanned. You froze and turned to look at him, “he’s here isnt he?”

“Don’t be like that, Jack.” You sighed, smile fading, “we don’t belong here.” Your avoidance of the question hit him in the chest. Dracula was here and he had managed to convince you to go.

“Yes we do. We always have done. We made a life here, [First], please don’t throw it away for him.”

“...I’m not doing it for anyone else but myself.” You lied.

“Well you can go. But I’m staying here.”

“Jack, please don’t do this. Don’t make me pick.”

“Why should I be fair to you if you’re going to run back to him the moment he comes back? Did he fake his own death? He hurt you like that and you’ll go back to him?”

“Yes.” You narrowed your eyes

“Why?”

“Because I love him.”

Dracula’s voice calling your name brought you back to where you were - in bed, snuggled up against him like he was the warmest thing in the world, even though you were beginning to seriously grow cold.

“What are you thinking about?” He inquired.

“You.” You whispered dreamily. He laughed.

“You truly are the sweetest thing.” Another kiss, “when the time is right, I will have the most fun ruining you.” His voice grew darker and you slapped his chest as a scolding.

“That’s no way to speak to a lady!”

“You’re right, I’m very sorry, Lady [Last].”

Your laughter was cut short by the knocking of the front door. It echoed through the apartment until it met your ears and you mumbled to him to leave it. He evidently couldn’t leave it, and began tugging himself away from your grasp.

When he was finally standing, he tugged the duvet up (which already had much nicer black cotton sheets)and cocooned you in.

“Keep yourself warm for me, my lady. I’ll only be a moment.”

Your heart faltered. Dracula, smiling to himself left the room and shut the door. He felt like he had finally been granted access to heaven after so very long. 524 years and he finally had a taste of euphoria. Who would’ve thought it was you?

He loved the way the sunlight streamed in. He loved the vibrancy it brought with it. He loved the way that it would cast a halo over you when you sat with him in the morning, back to the window as you let your back warm up by the heat. He truly felt like the richest man in the world.

Moving towards the door, he didn’t bother pushing his smile back. Why should he?

He was genuinely shocked when he pulled back the door and saw the person waiting for him. He hadn’t changed much except for his skin becoming a little leathery and losing its colour, and of course, his eyes taking on a red kind of hue as they always did what What Dracula called the ‘newborns’.

“Good morning, Renfield, can I help you?”

“Actually, Count Dracula, I came to thank you.”

“To thank me?”

“Yes, you have blessed me- may I?” He pushed past the taller male, entering the apartment.

“Not really...” Dracula’s hands rose up to shoulder leval, as if in question and then fell. He felt a little unnerved, “so, um, how long have you been... like that?” There was a sudden intensity to Renfield that he didn’t like. Newborns had a disgusting thirst to blood that drove most to a deathly insanity. He had somehow managed to make it past that point.

“Oh,” Renfield turned to face him, “quite a while now. Aren’t you proud of yourself? You finally perfected your technique.”

“Well,” he began with an amused scoff, “you caught me at a bad time.”

“My apologies-...” he trailed off, “were you about to eat?” Shit. Could he smell you?

“Oh, no-“

“Could I join you?”

“No, Renfield I’m not eating.”

Fuck.

“My god, where are they? I have never smelt anything so succulent. So sweet...”

“Renfield, I think you need to leave.” Dracula warned darkly.

In the bedroom, you had grown tired of lying about and had sat up and was flipping though the pages of Dracula’s novel on his kindle. He’d probably be upset for you losing his page, but he was a 524 year old man, he should have an immaculate memory by now.

But as you began to delve in 3/5s into the book, you heard a sound. It was barely above a whisper. You thought nothing of it and went back. The sound came again a little louder - but still uncipherable. You shook it off. A third time.

‘Bloofer...’

You looked around the room. Nothing. There was nothing. You were being silly.

‘Bloofer lady...’

Heart beginning to race, you pulled your legs up and out of the duvet, getting ready to rush out of the room. That was when the wardrobe doors blew open and there she stood, between his stream-ironed suits in her burnt glory. You screamed and without thinking, launched the kindle in her direction. Upon contact, she was gone.

Shaking, you clambered off of the bed and made your way towards the wardrobe. You plucked the kindle up and noticed a gash down the centre. Oops.

You didn’t know if Dracula had shooed away whatever company was at he door, but you decided to venture out anyway. You had to confess before he found the broken kindle himself. He was going to be so mad... You tugged open the door.

“Hey, Drac, there was kinda an accident...” you trailed off upon seeing Renfield standing a little away from you. Dracula was further down the room, now fully glaring at the lawyer, “oh, sorry.”

“Oh my goodness. She smells even better so close.” Renfield purred.

“Get out.” Dracula demanded.

“What? And let you enjoy a delicacy all to yourself? I have respect for you, Dracula, but I’m not stupid.”

“She’s not anyone’s meal. I am warning you to leave while you still have your head attached to your body.”

“Gosh, you do make a good pair. Both of you enjoy to threaten my head.”

Dracula sent you a questioning look, and you sent one back that seemed to read ‘I’ll tell you later’. During your distraction, Renfield took a step towards you and when you realised, you took a quick step backwards. Dracula took two long strides forwards.

“Don’t you dare touch her.” He warned, his voice dangerously low. His eyes had darkened to almost black and you knew that he was nothing short of livid.

“I only want a taste, Dracula.” Renfield started.

“She’s not yours.”

“Since when did you claim her?”

Renfield made a break for you. Dracula didn’t hesistate to sprint forward and you realised that you had never truly seen him as a predator. Renfield managed to get to you and his hands gripped onto your t-shirt. His teeth were bared and his eyes were almost glowing. He was on your for a second before Dracula had smashed into him and knocked him away. The force of his arms being removed from you sent you flying backwards in the bedroom. You scrambled up and rushed out to see Dracula and Renfield in a death lock, throwing punches onto one another as both tried to get back up whilst simultaneously keeping the other down.

Dracula managed to push Renfield down and kick his head to keep him down for just a moment.

“Run, [First]!” He barked at you.

You dashed out of the bedroom, ignoring the whining pain in your back. So close to the door, you were pulled back and pulled up into the air by a pair of unfamiliar arms. You screamed and began to thrash in his arms.

Time slowed for Dracula and he had a split second to make a decision. In order to get you out of Renfield’s grip, he was going to have to risk hurting you. He’d rather hurt you himself than let any fatal harm come to you. He sprinted towards you and grasped Renfield. He yanked at his neck, trying to get him to have no choice but to let you go. It was no use.

So, he swung out his leg and as it collided with Renfield’s knee, he heard the splintering crack of bone. Renfield dropped to the floor, screaming in agony but refused to let you out of his talons.

“LET HER GO!” Dracula began blow after blow of his elbow on Renfield’s face. His nose cracked and began to gush blood. His lips split in several places and he had no choice but to finally let you go.

You rolled from his grasp, pushing yourself away from the floor. Your eyes were glued on Dracula, who was completely gone with his rage. The anger on his face, the power of his hits, this was the force of his jealousy and this was how far he would go to protect you. You had to be honest - it kind of turned you on.

The fight did not end, however, as Renfield climbed up Dracula’s size and began to force him backwards. He drove Dracula’s back into the table and you saw the sudden mahogany coloured blood soaking the back of his shirt. Again and again, Renfield impales Dracula’s back on the corner of the table until Dracula could take no more. He, with all of his strength, pulled Renfield up and over his head, behind him, smashing his back down onto the table. It cracked and splintered and some pieces of marble flew out in all directions. He then grasped Renfield by the collar of his coat and dragged him towards one of the doors. It swung behind him and you could hear another scramble.

You somehow managed to get up and rush into the next room. The living room. On the right hand side of the room, Dracula was kicking Renfield back as he opened the doors to the balcony.

The commotion ended when Dracula plucked up Renfield and tossed his body over the balcony. He turned to you, aggressively panting.

“Are you alright?” He spoke between deep breaths.

“You should be worried about yourself, look at you.” You spoke gently.

He limped towards you and pulled you into him before he began to crumble to the floor. You sunk on your knees with him, cradling his head to your chest so that he could hear your heart.

“Darling, don’t be scared anymore.”

“I’m worried about you, Drac.” You whispered.

~^*^~

It took ten minutes to get him back into the bedroom and a further ten to convince him to take his shirt off and lie down on his stomach on the bed. He was being stubborn, and you had to keep trying your hardest to convince him to help himself.

When he was finally compliant with you, you straddled his thighs, looking at the deep gashes on his back. Six in total. You ran your fingers through his hair and he looked back at you.

“I’m fine, really-“

“No you aren’t. Now tell me again how I fix them.”

“Just... why don’t you let me do it?” He began to turn, but you grabbed hold of his shoulders and forced him back down into the pillows.

“No. I’m doing it. You won’t reach them all. Tell me.”

“Pinch the skin and twist.” His irked voice was muffled as he spoke to you.

“See? Easy. It won’t hurt will it?”

“Not much.”

“Stupid question, [First], the man’s been shot and not even flinched.” You mumbled to yourself.

“It’s endearing.” He craned his neck to look back at you once more, “you’re like a wonderful, loving wife.”

“Yeah, shut up and face down.”

“Oh, how did you ever find out I like to be bossed around whilst in bed like this.”

“I swear to the lord almighty I will leave you here and never come back.” You pouted.

“Liar. You’d never leave me.”

He was right. You could never leave him. Not after leaving your newfound life to be with him. He meant everything to you. But he didn’t need to know that. So, without warning, you began to close up his wounds. The first one made him hiss a little, and to soothe his pain, you leaned down and pressed your lips to the newly conjoined skin to let the sting sizzle away.

With every one that you closed, you left a kiss to help with the pain. Once you had done them all, you trailed your hands up and down his sides, pressing kisses higher up his back. He sighed, allowing your warmth that was spreading through him like wildfire. Your kisses ignited his skin and he had never felt this alive or this loved in... well forever. Now it was you hovering above him. He turned his head to look at you and you were inches above his face.

Another kiss you pressed to his shoulder and sent your hands down his sides once more. His skin tingled with your touch. He was in paradise. He loved the feeling of being consumed by you.

“Do you feel better now, love?”

“Love?” He repeated.

“Yes, my love,” your wicked eyes burned into his. Oh, heavens, you were driving him insane, “how do you feel?”

“... like I could fly.”

You softly chuckled and pressed another kiss on his shoulder, just next to the one that you had just planted. He was clinging on to every one of your movements. He anticipated every touch. When your hands ran back up, they ran along his arms and you threaded your fingers through his as you leaned to his nape and pressed a kiss.

He was in utter bliss.

“I can’t believe you did that for me.” You uttered against his skin.

“I’d do anything for you.”

He suddenly felt much better and had within a second, flipped himself around underneath you, sat up and wrapped his arms around you so that you were firmly on his lap, legs wrapped around his waist. You were so close. Your hands had instinctively pressed against his firm chest.

“Anything?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Anything and anything.”

“Would you bring me the moon if I asked?” You giggled at the stupidity and the entire cliche of your question.

“And the stars to go with it.” He promised.

“Would you take me anywhere I wanted to go?”

“I’d carry you there if it was the only way.”

“Would you make me live forever?” Your voice was soft.

“...no... I wouldn’t do that.” He confessed, feeling a little guilty for having to say no to you.

“Why not?” There was the tiniest hint of hurt in your voice. Almost undetectable but when you had 500 years to master reading people, Dracula had become too good at it.

“I wouldn’t curse you with it. You are too good, you are too perfect to be tarnished by undeath.” He placed his forehead on yours. His eyes fluttered shut and he breathed in your scent. He focused on your warmth around him.

“Would you rather see me die?”

“I want to give you the best life so that you don’t regret or feel afraid to die, my sweetest, my loveliest, my angelic darling.” It was his turn to begin to press kisses to your neck.

Your throat began to burn with the kisses he left behind.

“I will give you everything. I will fulfil every desire. I will satisfy all of your thirsts.” He vowed to you, “your wish shall be my command and I will submit myself to you. So simply give me your warmth and your love, my darling.”

“Okay.” You whispered.

His kisses were working down your skin and you were thankful that you had chosen a little lower cut than usual shirt to sleep in. His lips worked on the skin of your chest, but the material that covered to just a little above where your heart was stopped him from going any further.

He pulled you into him, resting his head on your breast, listening to the steady beat of your heart. It made him feel normal. It made him feel like he wasn’t a monster after all.

You made him feel alive and he only hoped that you wouldn’t ever leave him. He think he truly would die of heartbreak if you did. The thought made him tug you tighter to him and without realising, the movement caused some friction where he hadn’t anticipated. You sucked in a breath, not wanting to draw any attention but your heart gave you away like usual. Your hands made their way to his hair.

“We can’t.” He whispered, “it would kill you.”

“That’s how I want to go.” You joked in an airy breath.

“Absolutely not.”

“Not even a little? Can’t you relive me?” You tugged his head back so that he could see the bees flooding your eyes. Jesus, he had forgotten about how intense desire could become. This was something he’d need to keep in check.

“Not today, my darling. Behave yourself and maybe we can come to some arrangement.”

“Don’t leave me waiting too long or else I may have to go looking for trouble.” You pressed a kiss to his jawline and he purposely pulled your hips down.

“What did I just say?”

You laughed.

~^taglist^~

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