#sleeves rolled up shirt unbuttoned bruise under his eye?? HIS SMILE!!!!! what does he get out of killing me deaD

[meidui]

🚨🆘🚑❗❗❗

[oneshotnewbie]

Is there a tiny little chance that you will update <Missing for a Decade> soon? I absolutely love this idea, and I would love to read more of it!! <33

Supergirl - Missing for a Decade Part 5

Trigger Warning: This one-shot includes the topic of abduction and mentions of abuse. These plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle those subjects, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

Authors Note: Here you have a new chapter ♥ I'm going to edit the older chapters again since I don't like them and they seem a bit inconsistent when I look at this current chapter

ᕚ---ᕘ

"You came to talk to me about your sister and niece before you take them home?" the older gentleman asked, clearing his throat and turning completely to the women who had entered his office. "Yes,"

"I have treated more than hundred kidnapping victims, but none like your sister. Despite her captivity, she is open to other people and hardly scared which fascinates me. She is very strong," The doctor folded the remaining files on his desk and clasped his hands on the table in front of his torso, fingers locked tightly together. "You know, every victim presents a new challenge and it is like reading a map of battered bodies that have been unjustly violated"

Both Alex and Kara interestingly pulled a chair from the corner and listened to the doctor go into more details about your health, the various tests and examinations that they did on you.

"She is chronically underweight, physically atrophied. She has anemia, vitamin D and iron deficiencies, and some skin lesions and inflammation from the lack of natural light." he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt sleeves and rolled them up. "Y/n Danvers shows signs of severe violence over the last few years. Broken bones that healed incorrectly and scars all over her body"

The grey-haired hesitates with another answer and bows his head down, wanting to give Kara and Alex a moment to digest the information. The office is suddenly quieter than it was at the beginning of the conversation. "What about Gracie?"

The man in front of them started to smile and looked at the two older Danvers with glittering eyes. "Despite the circumstances, your sister did a good job. Grace Danvers is a bright little girl with particularly good language skills despite her young age"

"Any signs of injury? Does she have bruises or healed broken bones?

He shook his head violently and took away all their fears with immediate effect. "No, she is a perfectly healthy girl. No vitamin deficiencies or signs of violence. No evidence of past fractures or other medical conditions. If I did not know better, I would say that her mother endured all of the abuse to protect her daughter"

The Danvers sisters nodded in unison and thanked your doctor for treating you so lavishly. Kara put one foot in front of the other as she left the office and waited for Alex to join in step. Together they walked back to your hospital room while going over the details of the injuries you had sustained in their minds.

ᕚ---ᕘ

A week had passed in which you slowly regained your strength in the hospital, slowly got used to your sisters around you and were able to get closer with them. While you were still adjusting to your new, free life, your little daughter explored everything she could get her hands on; running around the hospital with either Kara or Alex always by her side, having her aunts wrapped around her little finger since day one.

You stood nervously with your back to one of your older siblings, staring longingly out the window while your bony hand rested on the pane of glass. A sinister life stretched out behind it; a life you no longer knew. "I do not know if I am ready yet.." you replied to Kara, who sat on your bed and waited for you to take the first step outside. The first step to freedom and into a new life.

"There will never be a perfect moment, sweetheart. Nobody wants to imagine what you went through, but Alex and I will be by your side and support you. No matter how long it takes"

You nodded, saw her soft smile in the reflection and turned to her. The blonde extended her hand. You walked the last few inches that separated you, grabbed her hand so she could pull you into her arms. "Grace is already at the car with Alex and Maggie, trying out the new Nemo seat we bought for her"

You laughed briefly at the thought of how long and in how many stores the redhead must had been, desperate to find a car seat with your daughters favorite fish on it. She had wished for this one and, at the tender age of four, had already threatened not to sit in anything else but this one.

"We can go as soon as you are ready," softly, she kissed your dry and straggly hair, wrapped her arms tightly around you and savored the closeness she had missed so badly. You too snuggled up to her chest like a cat, took a deep breath of her perfume, which she still wore after all these years and let the moment sink in.

Kara´s heartbeat accelerated in your ears and her grip on you became tighter. A slight tremor emanated her body and her swallowing became stronger and heavier.

The sadness that overcame her was like an old friend who had accompanied her on the journey over the past few years. Not intrusive, but always in the foreground; always aiming to get her attention and cause deep pain where your love and closeness once found its place.

It stroked her hair every time she walked into your old room, whispered softly in her ear as in silent moments, she slid down the wall and broke down crying. Never leaving her side and always staying with her. The crushing feeling of never seeing you again, never hearing your footsteps creaking on the floor and never catching the sound of your voice ever again.

Your disappearance painted her world gray, pouring concrete over the once colorful rainbows of your being. You were the biggest concern between all the others. Your sisters were worn down by this eternal struggle - the circle of cause and effect, crime and punishment, guilt and innocence, victim and perpetrator. She had not stopped fighting this fight, but she wished she could.

And now she could finally feel the sun and see the colors again, the warmth she longed for and the soft melody of your voice that returned. "I have missed you so much," she said carefully, rocking you gently in her arms. Kara did not want to let go of you, she had been longingly waiting for this moment for too long.

"After all these years, have you stopped looking for me?"

"Yes, we did," she whispered into your hair, the pain in her voice clearly audible as salty tears strayed onto them. The blonde rested her trembling chin on the top of your head, gently stroking your shoulder while her other hand nervously played with your fingers. It was not until she composed herself that she pulled away from you just inches to look into your eyes. "We all spread out across National City and knocked on every door. We questioned alleged witnesses. But nobody had seen you or knew where you were."

Tears rolled quietly down your face, which Kara caught with the soft pads of her thumbs. Although you had asked the question yourself, your stomach still cramped completely when receiving the given information. Your family had fought through the struggle of your disappearance and given themselves up in the process. They had long since lost hope.

"I am sorry I caused you such pain," you looked at your hands and waved them around as if seeing them for the first time before closing your eyes for a brief moment. Shortly after, you opened them up again and stared at your sister with blank eyes. Kara´s on the other hand were blood red and swam behind thick glasses.

She quickly fell to the ground and knelt in front of you. Her warm hands were placed on your cheeks, her thumbs inevitably caressing them. "You are not to blame for what happened to you and you are not guilty for surviving it. Sure, we suffered pain because we thought we lost you forever, but you know what outweighs that pain?"

You shook your head and cocked it to the side, her hand now clasped between your shoulder and ear. She smiled at you briefly and pulled you to the front so your face was buried in her shoulder. "You are back and our hearts are whole again. You are so strong, a fighter and fought your way through everything that came your way. You do not have to be sorry. It. is. not. your. fault."

[charnelhouse]

watch your step (tf poly mob au)

A/N: This is not the full first part of this fic. I just was fucking around and wanted to see if people liked the vibes. It's just a snapshot. The boys in this are dark. They're violent criminals. The reader in this is actually pretty different than the ones I usually do. She's not necessarily bad ass or physically capable of protecting herself. She does have a dark side, but she's mostly just trying to survive in this situation.

Warnings: violence. kidnapping. hostage shit. self-doubt.

She feels glass under nails - embedded in her palms. Her lungs snap in her chest - her throat constricting as she tries to speak. She stares at the scene in front of her, eyes darting between the dead man still twitching in Will’s hands. The second corpse still and pale beneath Santiago’s hunched form. Francisco storms back into the living room - knocking a lamp over in his haste.

“What the fuck?” he growls as he stuffs his gun back into his jacket.

She startles - biting down on the inside of her mouth because she doesn’t understand - doesn’t know what to say - doesn’t want to make a sound because all of their eyes are on her and it feels like pinches and bruises smattering across her skin.

Did she fuck up here? Is this her fault?

“I’m - I - he just - I was just getting a glass of water,” she explains - breath hitching between her ribs.

Santi slowly appraises her - taking note of her bare thighs in her sleep shorts - her cut hands and arms. For a moment, he looks regretful - his brow winkling in concern and then it flits away - quick as a snuffed match. His face returns to that dark emptiness - that stone-cold house where not a light burns bright.

There’s a warm grip on her shoulder and Benjamin drops down next to her.

“Are you hurt?”

She doesn’t like his tone - the edges curved in a subtle softness. He’s the sweetest of any of them, but she knows instinctively that it’s not completely genuine. He bares his face to her - that boyish golden beauty and it makes her shiver. He nudges her chin and repeats himself. “Hey,” His thumb sweeps over her jaw. “Did they hurt you?”

She’s seen him with the women they bring home. She’s seen Benny seduce and it’s that exact same smile - that promise in the indents of his cheeks. She’s also seen him angry - watched him stalk back through the front door with blood on his hands and his leather jacket smelling of cordite.

She’s observed each of them in the fortress of their own house and she knows that they’re terrible - they’re awful. They’re killers. But - Benny’s caress is warm and she finds herself answering him.

“No.”

“You are,” Will grunts as he rips his knife out of the man’s throat. The slippery gurgle of blood and flesh and she should be used to it by now - but fuck - it makes sour bile churn in her gut. Will steps over the corpse with a smooth gracefulness. His white dress shirt is unbuttoned - the sleeves rolled up. There’s a light mist of blood across the collar - the fine bleached fabric folded beneath his low bun.

They’re all in their best. These criminals in their expensive suits and clean lines. Polished leather shoes. The slicked back hair. The cologne and tang of whatever casino or underworld bunker they'd been to not even an hour ago.

They’d been out to a party - something important for “work” as she stayed locked away in this fucking penthouse. She’d gone downstairs for a glass of water and had found those men - shuffling through files and - and - and then -

Will’s there - his scarred fingers wrapping around her wrist before he jerks her up to her feet. She stumbles into his chest, but he steadies her. He’s still too rough - too hard, but when he drags his touch over her bleeding palms - he inhales sharply - his lip yanked white between his teeth. “You’re hurt,” he repeats. “Don’t lie.”

She rips her hand away from him, gasping as she accidentally jars it against her belly - burying the glass deeper. “I didn’t lie - I didn’t realize - “

“She’s in shock,” Benny observes - his mouth quirking as if he’s amused by this scene - as if her fear is something comical. He steps toward her and she moves away - flinching. Her jaw still blooming warm from his touch. They're all too much at once - overwhelming her.

“I’m not in shock,” she protests as she presses herself against the kitchen island. Benny’s smile widens and she blinks. Still - his handsomeness stupefies her. She hates herself for it - hates that twinge in her core at these men who have hurt her - stolen her.

“How did this happen?” Santiago asks - his voice low and dangerous. Bitter.

“I don’t know,” She leans deeper into the marble island - the edge cutting into her stomach. She wants to go upstairs. “I’m sorry - I don’t -”

Santi’s head shoots up - his eyes pinning her in place. She feels like a bug - like a delicate insect with gossamer guts - stretched across paper and pushed under glass. She’s felt that way since they brought her here.

Santi - Pope - scares her. Maybe - more than Will and Francisco. She’s suddenly desperate to defend herself. She knew nothing - saw nothing. She was just minding her fucking business - caged in this prison of glass and marble and leather. She didn’t belong here, but she was stuck here and they’d told her to get used to it.

“I came downstairs and -”

“Shut up,” Santi interrupts quietly.

“What?” Sweat beads at the nape of her neck - between her tits.

“I wasn’t asking you,” he clarifies - scrubbing at his jaw before running his fingers through his slicked black hair. It comes out disheveled, making him look strangely young. “I know you didn’t do anything - this is on us. They managed to get through our security - I - I’m glad we got home in time.”

She swallows. Oh.

“How the fuck did they do it?” Francisco asks as he kicks one of the corpse’s heads. It lolls to the side - the blatant smudges of purple around the throat from Pope’s fingers. He’d choked him to death - made it personal.

You come into my house and try to steal my shit. You fucking -

“I’ll talk to security,” Benny announces as he crosses the room to leave. “Make some heads roll.” She almost wants him to stay. Almost. He’s more stable than the other three.

“Don’t kill anyone, Ben,” Fish calls after him.

Ben turns - the doorway light gilding his profile. He winks.

Okay - maybe not.

She knows Francisco’s not joking. She’s seen what they’ve done to the employees that have fucked them - messed up catastrophically. She takes another step backward and yelps as glass sinks into her foot.

All three of their heads whip around to stare at her. She’s reminded of the Cerberus - their eyes molasses-black and swirling with hunger for a hunt. Someone had found a weakness in them and had bled it and now - they feel vulnerable. Pissed.

“Jesus,” Will snaps, shaking his head. “Can’t take you anywhere.” Before she can protest, he lunges for her - lifting her up into his arms. He drops his chin to look at her. “You’re bleeding all over, sweetheart.”

His smile is indulgent - as if he’d like that - as if he’d want her to bleed on him. She scowls. “There she is,” he teases. “Knew you weren’t that scared.”

“I wasn’t scared,” she huffs. “I was surprised.”

Francisco regards her quietly before he moves across the kitchen and rummages through a drawer. He’s back in front of her - his hands hot on her foot - all that dark hair combed back from his face for their night out. She’d never really seen him in anything, but baseball caps. He seems so naked.

“Hey,” he says softly and she tilts her chin to catch his eyes. Fish has rarely looked at her. He’s avoided her - offered her nothing, but silence and curt nods. She can’t read him - can’t figure him out and it’s not like she cares to, but it’d be easier if she knew who he was and what he wanted. “Hey,” he repeats as he squeezes her ankle and pulls.

“Fuck!” she shrieks as she curls her fingers into Will’s dress shirt, managing to rip a button. Fish lifts the red-slick shard of glass and tosses it in the sink. It clinks - echoing through the quiet dark room where they stand. Shadows. The blink and slide of city lights swimming over hardwood and tile.

She glares at Francisco. “Asshole.”

His eyes widen a fraction, his mouth parting in surprise. She doesn’t talk back - not to them or him. He’s still that predator - that dog who may or may not bite. But she’s heard things - heard them reference gore-filled stories involving Catfish and machetes. His fury never molten, but like black-ice. As a girl, she had recalled the dangers of it - that glistening obsidian surface coating asphalt and ponds in the trenches of New England February. You could lose your footing so easily - crack your head or break your nose. Snap a tooth.

She swallows. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t seem angry. He frowns. “For what? I just hurt you.”

Will chuckles and she can feel it vibrate beneath her cheek. She’s stiff in his arms, but she can make out the corded muscle - the relaxed thrum of his heart. He smells like orange flower and clove oil - the swell of a crackling fire. There’s also the distinct aroma of blood, which lingers on Ironhead like a second skin. The group’s torturer - their kill guy. He is all these things and yet his hold on her is gentle - almost protective. It disarms her. “You don’t have to keep apologizing, honey.”

Honey. He’s such a fucking shithead. She’s their captive. What else can she do, but beg for forgiveness - avoid them - stay out of the damn way. Isn’t that what Pope had demanded of her:

Stay put. Stay quiet. Don’t piss us off and maybe you’ll live.

She ignores Will, instead focusing on Fish as he cleans and wraps her foot. His breath is damp on her skin - his brow furrowed in concentration. She’d never noticed his handsomeness before - the strong jut of his nose - that plush lower lip - the fan of dark lashes. “You may need stitches,” he mumbles as he continues to bandage her. “Will will check it again, but I didn’t need you bleeding over everything.”

Whatever.

She leans slightly against Will’s chest - her head brushing his shoulder. He lowers his chin - lips faintly grazing her temple and she freezes. “It’s fine, babe,” he taunts. “You can relax.”

She sits back up - pushing away from him and Fish squeezes her foot in warning. “Stop moving.”

She grunts.

“Go upstairs,” Santi finally announces. She’d forgotten about him and his voice is gruff - splintering through the tension that nestles between the three of them. He sounds both frustrated and annoyed and she wonders if he’s mad at her. If he doesn’t like them focusing on her - if she fucked up because she got hurt and -

Frankie releases her ankle and Will rearranges her in his arms before he’s out of the room. “How come I have to leave?” she asks - unsure why she even cares.

“Because they have to clean that up - figure out what happened - how those fuckers got in.”

A chink in the armor. A hole in the wall. Their penthouse had seemed like a fortress - the whole damn place impenetrable. She could figure out how to leave - find out where the weakness sits.

“Scared I’ll learn how to escape then?” She doesn’t know why she says it - maybe she wants to hit back at him - emphasize that she still fucking hates being here - locked inside with them. A prisoner.

Will laughs and it's tinged with something unsettling. “If you even managed to leave, you wouldn’t get very far.” He angles his head to gaze down at her and she inhales sharply. There’s a cruelness to him - hidden in the sharp lines of his gorgeous face. “We’d find you - chase you down.” He taps the side of her head with one calloused, scarred fingertip. “We know you, pretty girl. We know where you’d go and what you’d do and where you’d try to hide.”

She swallows - her throat closing up. Tears begin to well in her eyes. She tries to swipe at them - furious with herself, but Will is already there and brushing them away.

“You’re with us,” he states like it’s a cold hard fact - like it’s law. “There’s no place for you, but here.”

[darkorderaf]

hi!! can i request number 9 with jon moxley from the small details for fictional kisses prompt list? thank you, love!! i can’t wait to read it if you decide to do it!! <3

Yes, of course!! I’m always delighted to write Jon for you! I hope you like it. <3

Pairing: Jon Moxley x OFC. Prompts: Unbuttoning your lover’s shirt, pressed against the wall. Rating: M. Warnings/Content: Smutty smut. A little rough but nothing super intense. Word Count: 1,767.

(I don’t own gif; credit to audreyhrnes!)

Jon hated wearing suits but damn could he wear the hell out of them when someone finally managed to scam him into it. And she had. Sort of. Just for a night. She grinned to herself as she watched him tug on his tie, pace near the far wall of the room. The attempt to hide her smirk behind her champagne glass was caught by one Britt Baker and the good doctor sauntered over. She settled back against the drink table and grabbed one of her own.

“He is hating every minute of this, isn’t he?”

Britt gestured towards Jon with her glass.

“Oh, for sure,” she answered with a nod. She eyed Jon across the way and the look on his face when he saw that Eddie wasn’t also in a suit was priceless. As blue as his eyes were, she could see how wide they were clear across the room. “Eddie and I figured we might pull a rib on him, tell him that we would all be dressed nice. God, he fought against the tie like a dog with a collar.”

She had wrongly assumed that Jon wouldn’t mind the tie because of that correlation. She had seen all of his matches. But shit, they had almost been late because of that tie. He had threatened to tie her up with it and she should have known better than to dare him to do just that. Eventually, they had gotten their shit together enough to make it out the door and to the event. They could circle back to that later.

“He’s gonna hold this against you for forever, you know,” Britt said. “I’m going to go find Adam so good luck with Jon later. You’ll probably need it. Have fun!”

Britt shot a wink at her as they clinked their glasses together and downed their champagne. Just as she turned to set her empty glass, she could feel a presence behind her. A smile spread on her face.

“So, how pissed is Jon?”

“Truth be told his ass is a little chapped over it, doll.”

That was not Eddie Kingston’s voice. She tried to temper her face as she turned and looked up at him. Jon’s narrowed eyes greeted her.

“Hi, babe,” she said. “Are you having a good time?”

He shook his head, a smirk of disbelief on his face. He reached past her to grab a glass of champagne. He took a sip of it and scrunched his face. It wasn’t to his taste. Not like the bottle of Jack back in their room.

“Oh yeah, you’re gonna hi, babe me like you didn’t do anything wrong?” His low voice rolled through her ears. “You did me dirty, sweetheart. You and Eddie. He’s not getting out of this one and neither are you.”

She traced a finger down the line of open buttonholes at the front of his suit as she looked over him again. He insisted on wearing it unbuttoned, the sleeves pushed up. All broad and muscled, beard trimmed and that earring in. Hair a little messy like he’d just rolled out of bed or bar fight. Rugged and nothing at all like a gentleman.

“Oh, I get it,” he rumbled as he looked down at her, his dimples prominent when he began to grin at her. He made like he was going to kiss her cheek and lingered there. “Is it doing it for you, dressing me up all nice like this? I feel like it’s doing something for you.”

Her face flushed and she looked away for a beat. It was as much confirmation as anything. Jon’s tongue swept across his bottom lip and he nodded when he pulled away.

“Eddie and I thought it would be funny,” she finally said, confidently as she could. She fumbled for a glass and he did the honors of handing her one. She took a long sip of it before she spoke again. “We can go whenever if it’s really that ba--Oh we’re leaving now?”

Her words were all the incentive Jon needed to grab her hand and tug her towards the exit. She barely had time to set her glass down before they were through the double-doors. Thankfully, their room was in the same building the event was being hosted in. The time in the elevator went by quickly with Jon’s hand pulsating around hers, his barely contained energy swelling in the glass and metal box.

As soon as their door beeped them in, he was on her. He stooped down to pick her up against him and slanted his mouth over hers to claim. To bruise. Frustration spilled through and his tongue was harsh against her, his teeth sharp. She fisted his tie in her hand and tugged it hard when she pulled away from his mouth. He went to kiss her again and she pulled away.

“What, doll? What is it?”

His voice was a throaty rasp as his chest heaved. She kissed his cheek before she spoke.

“You said I did you dirty earlier, right?”

His intense eyes burned into her as he pressed her back against the wall. He nodded, then narrowed his eyes. What was she getting at? She made like she wanted to get down and he acquiesced. He grunted when she forced him back against the wall and she could see the way he strained against his suit pants, the way his thick thighs went tight. As much as dressing nice did it for her, he liked it when she got her hands on him and was anything but soft about it. Her hand loosened in his tie and she moved her hand down the front of his dress shirt, undoing the buttons as she went. She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him and he groaned into her mouth when she popped the last one, her hand splayed across the warm skin of his stomach.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

She knelt down and kissed his stomach. His lips parted as he stared down at her, widened his stance. Her deft hands undid his belt and didn’t bother to pull it through the loops. His zipper went next and she slowly pulled his pants down over his ass, halfway down his thighs. Her fingers curled around the waistband of his boxer-briefs.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he said. His long fingers found a home in her hair. He hissed when she scratched her nails along his hip bones. His hips stuttered forward at the sensation and he tugged at her hair. “You’re gonna kill me. You are killing me.”

She smiled up at him as she palmed him through his briefs. He secured his bottom lip between his teeth once she bared him to the cold air of the hotel room. His abs contracted hard when she took the head of him into her mouth. Then the rest of him slid into the warmth of her mouth and he didn’t care about being quiet. A filthy moan thundered out of him when she took him as deep as she could and dug her nails into the muscle of his ass.

“Fuck, fuck,” he huffed out. “Do I need to wear nice shit more often, doll? Is that it? You like that? You like when I dress all nice for you?”

Her affirmative hum vibrated through him as she worked and his knees almost buckled. The hum turned into a moan and he swore. Such a large, intimidating bruiser of a man nearly brought to his knees just by her lips, her tongue? Fuck.

“Shit,” he heaved out. She felt him stiffen in her mouth and the muscles of his thighs go tight under her hands. The hand in her hair tugged hard and pressed her against him. His eyes fell shut and he leaned back into the wall to brace himself. “I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna--”

Jon’s words were choked by his guttural groan as he filled the back of her throat. He hissed and his hips stuttered until the grip he had on her hair finally lessened. The back of his hand lightly smacked against the wall as he let her go. She looked up at him, completely debauched and still half-dressed in the suit she picked out for him. Her lipstick clung to his skin. His head fell back against the wall, eyes shut, and he barely startled when she kissed his neck.

He found her mouth with his and she felt his hands trace down her arms, his grip soft. Then the heat of their kiss was turned up and she moaned into his mouth as his tongue pressed against hers. The bliss of his orgasm faded, burned away by the resurgence of heat that made his hands feel warm as brands on her skin.

She moaned his name and reached for him. Except she couldn’t. She opened her eyes. His tie was gone, her hands bound behind her. Jon’s lips stalled against hers and she felt him smile. He pulled away, his breath hot on her moist lips. Hooded eyes looked down at her.

“You dared me earlier, doll,” he said as he guided her back to the bed. He slowly spun her around and pulled her back against him, his chest to her back. She arched against him when he mouthed against her neck. His hand lightly squeezed one of her breasts through her dress. “You remember that?”

She nodded. He squeezed the other and she panted.

“Do you still want me to make good on that?”

She whimpered and her head fell back against his shoulder. A low chuckle rose out of him when she whispered a yes.

“You dressing nice does it for me too,” he admitted as he guided her to bend over the edge of the bed. His hand ran down her back to play with her bound hands, squeeze her ass, then down her thighs to where the hem of the dress was. If it tore a little when he yanked it up over her hips, she didn’t care. He nudged her feet apart and she turned her head against the bed to look back at him. He leaned over her and she shuddered at his breath against her ear. “But fuck, you look damn good like this too. Real fucking good.”

He tore her panties down and the only thought that crossed her mind when he got his hands, all of him, on her, was that she would have to put Jon Moxley in suits more often. Forever, if possible.

[spiderlilyserendipity]

Deserve (KSJ x reader) 🔞

Genres: angst, smut, & fluff

Tags: brat tamer ksj, brat!reader, dom/sub elements (obv LMAO), references to cheating (no actual cheating by jin or oc dw), spanking, fingering, established relationship, possessive sex, unsafe sex (be safe irl y’all), insecurity, mentioned breeding kink, mentioned hand kink, sexting, jealousy, aftercare (always important!), lots of hickeys, whooo this one is wild

Warnings: ksj uses some mean language in this fic (slut, bitch, etc.)

WC: 3835

Reminder: 18+ ONLY

You grin to yourself at the sight of Seokjin readjusting his pants to hide his erection. The camera is angled low enough that no one notices, especially with the winter coat on top of his clothes, but Seokjin is embarrassed, you can read him well.

You love the sight of his large member tenting in his pants, even more so when it’s because of your actions.

You stopped by the set today to surprise him with dinner after a long shoot, but then you got jealous.

You and Seokjin haven’t seen each other in a few weeks due to his work, and he hasn’t been picking up your calls lately. You decided to put up with that, since it hasn’t even been a year of dating yet. Most people don’t call ten month long relationships “serious”. But when you were waiting on him to finish work, you saw Seokjin’s fans talking about his newest interview on Twitter.

Seokjin has such good chemistry with her! One fan commented.

Yeah he totally does 😍😍 I wonder if they’re dating on the DL HAHAHA. Another added.

That makes sense actually! I hear she also majored in acting, and at Seokjin’s college, too!

You watched the interview and you agreed, he had been too friendly with her. You know it’s all work, as an actor Seokjin has to be charming and suave. It’s the only way he can convince the audience he is deserving of the roles he plays. But something bothers you about the way they interact. It almost feels real.

Out of jealousy, you go to the bathroom and take a picture of yourself topless and send it to Seokjin. You pinch a bit of your skin until it reddens, making it look like a hickey. Then you do it again, in another place. They’re hard enough pinches to start to bruise, and you bet they’ll be deep purple in a couple hours. You caption the picture as if you don’t hurry, I’ll go back to him soon.

There is no ‘him’ of course. You’re exclusive to Seokjin, both romantically and sexually. But hey, you can’t be the only one that’s a little jealous.

You leave the dinner you packed for Seokjin in his dressing room and leave just in time to see him open the text out of anyone else’s sight (as he opens all your texts to prevent people finding out about your relationship).

You turn around and happily skip back to your car. Seokjin can be the frustrated one now, you’ve had it.

When Seokjin comes home, it’s nearing midnight. The shoot went on another 3 hours after you left, 3 painstaking hours you laid in bed and pretended to sleep.

Seokjin knows it, too.

“Covers off.” He says instead of hello, not even turning the lights on. When you stay still, he shuts the bedroom door and locks it even though you’re home alone in his apartment. You don’t usually use the house key he gave you since you always felt it was a bit early for you to even have one, but Seokjin had insisted on giving one to you (although oddly he never demanded one to your house in return). But tonight, you’re not shirking away from any sort of commitment. You don’t care what Seokjin thinks of you using his house key and waiting in his bed, if it looks clingy. You’re clearly not that important to him anyway.

The only light Seokjin turns on is a small bedside lamp he only keeps on when you have sex, to be able to read your facial expressions even when you’re tied up or blind folded.

Seokjin pulls the covers off you, leaving you cold. “Y/N. I’m here. Quit pretending to be asleep. If you want to come tonight, show some fucking respect.” He snaps, shaking your shoulder. You open your eyes and glare up at him. Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Get on your knees.” He orders.

You do so. You’re dressed in only a pair of black lace panties and one of his oversized long sleeve shirts. You showered and shaved for tonight, and you’re sure he can smell his own body wash on you. But you’re not anywhere close to behaving yet, and you stare ahead. Seokjin tugs down the collar of your shirt to reveal your collarbone and the top of your chest where there are two bruises that look uncannily like hickeys.

At your unusual silence, Seokjin stops to check on you. “Colour.” He states rather than asks.

“Green.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue in disapproval at you. His temper is worse with you today. You have obviously pushed him further than he has ever gone tonight with your picture. “Look me in the eye when you tell me your colour. Have I not trained you well?”

You look him in the eye, anger flashing on your face. “No, you haven’t.”

Seokjin tightens his jaw. A muscle quivers in his cheek as he does it. “Is that the right way to ask sir to fuck you, princess?” He asks in a threateningly calm voice. His voice is just above a whisper and sends a chill down your spine.

You know what you’re asking for though. You both do. You smirk up at him. “Green.”

Seokjin sits at the edge of the bed. “Over my lap this instant.” He tells you. When you continue to glare, he smirks. “You know it’s been a month since we did this. I won’t fuck you for another month if you push me any further. Write down the fucking date if you want to, Y/N.”

Knowing Seokjin always keeps his promises, you quietly bend over his lap. You can deal with being spanked or even edged until you’re crying, but being deprived of Seokjin’s touch altogether is the worst and you both know it.

Seokjin chuckles, tugging his shirt up and over your ass. He begins to knead your ass between his hands roughly, making you whine. “Who asked you to stop by the set today?”

“No one.” You answer.

Seokjin slaps your ass hard. “Does this look like a regular conversation to you? Use your manners.”

“No one, sir. I stopped by because I wanted to.” You correct, already breathless. Seokjin’s first few hits are usually lighter, but he doesn’t have that kind of patience with you tonight. He gives you the kind of smacks he saves for the end right at the start.

Seokjin scoffs, continuing to knead at the same part he just hit. You wriggle in his lap at the touch, making him laugh at you. “Are you that sensitive because I haven’t fucked you in so long? Or is it because your new dom is too soft on you?”

Another hit to the opposite cheek when you take too long to answer. “Do you want to go another month without coming?” Seokjin growls in your ear.

“N-No, sir.” You answer.

Seokjin scoffs at your answer. “Sir, my ass. If you had any respect for me you wouldn’t cheat. I bet you act all coy with him because he doesn’t know you like I do. I bet he thinks you’re some soft little sub that can only be fucked in missionary position. But he doesn’t know you’re a disobedient bitch, does he, Y/N?”

Two more hard smacks, followed immediately by him kneading your ass. “N-No, sir.” You reply breathlessly. Seokjin didn’t give you a number of hits tonight, which means he is going to punish you until you’re crying. Those nights always left you sore the next day, but tonight you feel sore already. Even just sitting tomorrow will be an achievement, forget walking.

“What do you even like about him?” Seokjin asks in a cold voice. “Is he your ideal ‘type’ or some bullshit?”

You close your eyes, envisioning your ideal man. Tall and muscular. Large biceps but a small waist. Cute dimples and round cheeks and shiny eyes when he smiles. Long fingers with rounded nails that look beautiful adorned with jewellery, but the most beautiful when wrapped around your hips, your neck, and especially when inside your––

Four hard smacks in succession, two to each ass cheek. “I asked you a fucking question, didn’t I?” Seokjin asks coldly. When you tremble under him, he pauses. “Colour.”

You sniffle, brushing tears away. “Green.”

“You already took eight. You don’t have to take anymore if you don’t want to, you know that.” Seokjin reminds you, no longer angry. He actually sounds a bit guilty. He gently rubs over your ass, making you wince. “Sorry. I did too much this time, right?” He whispers, now rubbing your lower back in apology.

“I want more.” You tell him through your tears. You turn your head so you can look him in the eye. “I want as much as sir thinks I deserve.”

Seokjin considers it for a moment. Then, he chuckles. “There’s my girl.” He says softly, even though there’s nothing soft about how his hands come down on your ass.

He gives you four more, two to each ass cheek. By the time he’s done, you’re sobbing. It burns, it really does. But you like it like this, like being all his. Even if he’s smiling at some other woman while he’s working or even dating her, you like being just his in this moment. And because you’ve made him jealous too, Seokjin will definitely remind you of that fact tonight. Even if he doesn’t really believe it anymore.

Seokjin manhandles you onto the bed, making you lay down against his pillow. You hiss in pain but Seokjin is quick to kiss you. He does a great job of distracting you, kissing you deep and making you moan in his mouth. He only breaks away from the kiss to unbutton the shirt you’re wearing.

“So fucking dirty. Letting some asshole get his hands on what’s mine all because I left you alone for a few weeks.” Seokjin curses, pushing you further into the mattress as he lays on top of you. You gasp as he sucks hard hickeys on your neck, your collarbones, and the top of your chest. Seokjin takes special care to cover the two bruises you made with larger ones, pinning you down by the waist as you wriggle against him.

“S-Sir.” You whimper, but Seokjin keeps going lower. He even leaves hickeys on your breasts and on your ribcage, refusing to leave you unmarked anywhere. You’re sure you will have over a dozen on you tomorrow morning.

When he’s satisfied, Seokjin returns to your breasts. He is all tongue and teeth as he sucks at them until they’re both hard. You whine as he pinches them both hard afterwards. “You let some other guy do this to you? When only I can fucking work you up like this?” Seokjin demands, anger returning to his voice. He clamps one hand over your throat, not hard enough to block your breathing but enough to make your head spin. “Answer me, Y/N. Right fucking now.”

“S-Sorry, sir.” You answer, not really sure what you’re sorry for. You haven’t cheated on him, but his reaction makes you more sorry than if you had. You hadn’t known Seokjin could look at you with that kind of fire in his eyes. It’s different from other scenes, where Seokjin was turned on but carefully in control. Tonight, Seokjin is angry. But under it, there’s another emotion that shines just as brightly. Hurt. Seokjin is hurt by what he thinks you did.

Seokjin takes his hand off you. “You’re not sorry yet, princess. But you will be.” He warns.

Seokjin sinks lower, pressing kisses to your pubic bone and lower. He pulls your panties down and discards them. Then, Seokjin starts making new hickeys on the insides of your thighs without breaking eye contact.

When Seokjin finally pushes his middle finger into you, you’re half out of your mind and so wet it makes the insides of your thighs glisten. “Did he do this to you, princess?” Seokjin asks you, stretching you easily.

You shake your head, pushing your hips to get him to touch that spot. Seokjin grips your hip with one hand, nails digging into the skin as he holds you in place. The pain is what reminds you that he asked a question. “No! No one can do this to me.” You answer honestly, panting from the force of not coming. It would be so embarrassing to come from being fingered a little, and knowing Seokjin’s mood, he might not let you come the rest of the night if you come without permission.

Seokjin re-enters, two fingers this time. When you moan, he kisses one of the hickeys he made to cover your bruise. “That’s what I thought.” He says in a sing-song voice, mocking you. You grip his shoulders, grateful that Seokjin hadn’t tied you up as part of punishment. You dig your nails into the strong skin there, feeling him tense at how hard you do it. You don’t mean it as pay back or anything for him gripping your hip, you’re truly just that worked up tonight. But no matter his anger, Seokjin always checks on you. “Colour.”

“Green, green. Oh fuck Seokjin. Please can I come, please, please?” You beg, tipping your head back as tears roll out of them. As you clench around his fingers, Seokjin just chuckles and scissors you.

A few pumps later, he adds a third finger. “Do you think you deserve to come tonight?” He mocks you. “Look at how tight you are, I don’t even think you can take my cock tonight. That’s what happens when you fuck someone that isn’t as good as me, I guess.” Seokjin mocks you, rubbing his thumb against your clit to rile you up more.

“Ugh, I said I’m s-sorry! Sir, please.” You wriggle.

Seokjin smirks down at you. “You said it yourself, princess. ‘As much as sir thinks I deserve.’ And I think you deserve to be reminded who you fucking belong to, not to come. But if you beg really well, I might come in you. I bet you’d love to be bred by me after so long, stuffed full of my come like a dumb little slut.” Seokjin slows down, tightening his jaw again. “That is if it’s even special to you anymore. Assuming you don’t let him come in you too, of fucking course.” Seokjin punctuates each word with a hard thrust that has you scrambling for purchase on the bed sheets.

“I don’t, sir! I don’t! No one has except you.” You tell him. It’s true. You have been on birth control for years, but have never done it raw with any man until you met Seokjin. You had always been too afraid in case you missed your pill a day and wound up pregnant. But Seokjin had made you feel safer than any ex-boyfriend of yours had. Only a few months into dating, Seokjin made you feel safe enough to let him go raw, and never made you regret it. Hell, he even picked up your prescription for you when you worked late.

Seokjin’s fingers slip out of you. He pushes a stray hair back from your face, making you shiver as he gets some pre-come on your forehead. “And why’s that, princess?”

“I belong to you. I’m yours.”

You jolt in surprise as you feel the head of Seokjin’s cock press against your entrance. You grip his wide shoulders as he eases into you, but Seokjin pulls your hands off. He pins you down against the mattress, a hand to each wrist. “Correct.” He replies, before starting to move.

You can’t help the moans that fall from your lips with each of his movements. They’re not loud, actually the opposite. Seokjin’s punishment and teasing tired you out, so you can only let out soft moans and whines now. Seokjin pins you down, eyes pitch black and piercing in the dim light. There are no words needed for what Seokjin is doing right now. He’s trying to prove himself to you.

That only makes you feel more guilty. Even a simple nude while he was working would’ve riled Seokjin up, why did you have to make him think you cheated? In hindsight, you hadn’t been thinking straight. “I-I’m sorry.” You whisper as you look at Seokjin.

Seokjin looks away from you and down at your chest, at the darkening spots on your body. “Shut up.” He whispers back. His grip tightens on your wrists and he picks up the pace.

You’re getting close and you know Seokjin is, too. “S-Sir. Please.” You beg.

Seokjin pulls your arms up, taking both of your wrists in one hand and holding them away. You arch your back as the head of his cock rubs against your g-spot. “Sir!” You cry out. When Seokjin’s hips start to stutter, you finally lose your patience. “Fuck, Seokjin!”

Seokjin lets go of your wrists. One hand comes to grip your thigh hard, pushing it as far out as it can go. The other comes to rub at your clit. His pace picks up again, filling you up in a way that feels entirely different this time.

When you come, it feels like a flood of emotion. You tremble and clench around Seokjin, moaning his name and crying. When Seokjin comes, it’s with a deep moan and his fingernails digging into your skin, sure to leave marks tomorrow morning. You both know it, but you’re not upset at all. You have always liked the reminder that you’re his and only his.

Seokjin collapses on top of you as you both come down from your high. Seokjin pushes his bangs back from his forehead, wiping at the sweat on his face with one hand. He doesn’t look you in the eye. You try to kiss him, but he pulls away. He sits up, pulling out of you. Seokjin grabs tissues off the nightstand and wipes himself and you down gently.

“You can use the shower in the guest bedroom.” Seokjin says.

You grab his hand before he can go. “Why can’t I use your shower? We’ve showered together before.”

Seokjin pulls his hand away. “That was before you cheated on me, Y/N. I know we fucked tonight, but this is it. I’m not your boyfriend after tonight.”

Your heart sinks. “Seokjin. I didn’t actually cheat on you.”

That makes Seokjin look at you, eyes still dark but now sad. “Don’t lie to me now, Y/N. You told me clearly in your text that another guy made hickeys on you and that you were going to go back to him.”

You shake your head, taking his hands in yours. “I actually pinched myself. I only meant to make it look real and tease you, but I went too far. I’m sorry baby. I really am.”

Seokjin looks at you like he can’t believe his own ears. “You gave yourself bruises that look like hickeys just to make me mad?”

When you nod and look honest, Seokjin pulls you close. “Why?”

“I watched your newest interview.” You say.

A long moment passes and then Seokjin seems to get what you’re saying. “Were you jealous of me interacting with her?” Seokjin asks, surprised. When you pout he starts to laugh. He tips his head back and closes his eyes at how funny it is to him but it’s not funny to you. When you smack his chest lightly, he looks at you with a fond smile. He brushes your hair behind your ear. “Say it. Were you jealous?”

You bite your lip. Seokjin notices immediately you’re not finding this funny and grows serious. You look away from him. “I was jealous. But I was also insecure.”

“Insecure?” Seokjin repeats the word. “Why?”

You play with his hands. “Don’t know.” You mumble.

Seokjin cups your face and makes you look at him. “Be honest.” He tells you. “You know I like it when you’re honest the most, right?”

You chew your bottom lip. “I...I saw some stuff on Twitter. They said you two looked like a couple. And to be honest, you were kinda too friendly with her.”

Seokjin looks sad. “And that’s why you teased me? Even though you knew I’d think you were just playing and punish you?” You nod. Seokjin’s brows knit together. He pulls you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry baby. I should’ve thought more.”

You shake your head, but tears fall on Seokjin’s shoulder anyway. “I liked it. I always like it when we have sex like that. But I also wanted your attention.”

“You always have my attention.” Seokjin pulls back, cupping your face again. His eyes are wide and genuine. You love that the most about Seokjin; even though he’s an actor, he’s never lied to you. “Let’s take a shower.”

So you do. The two of you get in the shower together. Seokjin washes your chest and between your thighs for you, gentle as he touches the hickeys he made. You wash his back for him and his hair, giving him little kisses every now and then. You grab a spare pair of panties you left at his house and another one of his shirts.

When you get in bed, Seokjin turns you onto your back and applies lotion onto your ass. You wince at the burn of lotion on your sore spots. “Sorry baby. I got really angry thinking about you sleeping with someone else and lost my control.” Seokjin apologizes for the 1000th time.

“It’s okay. I wanted this.” You reply to him for the 1000th time. But still, Seokjin is really gentle with you.

“I only want you, okay?” You tell him when you lay on top of his chest later. “Even though I know after tonight, I don’t deserve you.”

Seokjin kisses your forehead. “Don’t ever say that baby. Of course you deserve me.”

You make yourself comfortable against him and he tucks the blankets in around both of you. “Do I?”

Seokjin rubs your back. “Someone like you deserves the best, Y/N. And naturally, that’s me, Kim Seokjin.” He ends jokingly.

You scoff but kiss his cheek anyway. “That’s true. My boyfriend is the best.”

Seokjin smiles at you lovingly. “I love you.”

Your eyes widen. Seokjin’s eyes widen too. “Shit. I mean, no. Well, no, I mean yes.” Seokjin stammers, ears turning pink. “Sorry, this is too quick right? Fuck, we haven’t even dated a year but I already said that.”

“I love you too.” You reply, feeling yourself blush too. It’s so odd how you’ve been entirely naked before him before but you feel more vulnerable now.

You and Seokjin smile at each other. “I must’ve saved the country in my past life to deserve you.” You whisper.

“That’s my line, baby.” Seokjin teases, kissing your lips sweetly. You melt into him, safe and comfortable. This is home.

[ladyfogg]

Black Sea

Black Sea

Fic Summary: James has been tense for days, trying to wrangle the hotel’s undead residents while preparing for the upcoming historical landmark accreditation. Thankfully for your husband, you know exactly what he needs to make him relax. Bruises & Bitemarks Masterpost. The Evans Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+ 

Fic Song: Black Sea by Natasha Blume

Pairing: James Patrick March/Serial Killer Female Reader

Warnings: Seriously guys, 18+ for real. Explicit Smut, Pegging, Rimming, Dom/Sub, Oral Sex, Face-sitting, language, Praise kink, and probably more.

Married life suits you quite well.

After the decades of wanting James Patrick March, he’s finally in your grasp and your bed and you couldn’t be happier. Shortly after the wedding, the Countess asks to meet with you where she showers you with gifts and assures you there are no hard feelings. While you do have a few choice words for her over her treatment of James, it’s all water under the bridge. Your husband is thoroughly yours and his ex-wife no longer poses any sort of threat.

Your marital suite is now yours and James’s inner sanctum. No matter what is going on at the hotel, your space is untouchable. The moment the two of you enter the room, everything else gets left behind.

At least, that’s how it usually is.

Lately, James is having a difficult time letting go. The threat of the Cortez being torn down in the future was always minimal. However, as time progresses and wealthy philanthropists try to buy the building, the need to achieve historical status becomes a necessity. Of course, that means no more killings or disappearances. For someone like James, it’s a hard habit to break but he’s willing to make the change if it means keeping his home.

Most of his frustrations come out in the bedroom, which you thoroughly enjoy. The trunk of sex toys you have has gotten quite a bit of use during your marriage. Mostly on you. But when James arrives late one evening, fuming with anger, you have a feeling he’ll need a little something extra to take his mind off his troubles.

“Idiots, the lot of them,” he grumbles in a huff as he walks through the wall. “I do not know how they expect to keep themselves anchored to this mortal plane with no hotel. You would think the threat of absolute extinction would be enough to sate their blood lust.”

“Rough day, darling?” you ask, sliding off the bed where you had been lounging as you waited.

 “Is it that obvious?” he sneers.

You pout and slink over to him, letting the sash of your silk black robe fall open so he can see your naked body, still covered in bruises and bite marks from the previous evening’s festivities. “Don’t snap at me because the others can’t follow the rules. I haven’t murdered anyone in years.”

He sighs heavily as you wrap your arms around his waist. “You’re right, my dear. Apologies.”

You lay a trail of hot kisses up his neck. “I know exactly what you need to take your mind off it.”

James grabs your upper arms and pushes you back, not too rough but rough enough for you to stop. “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for our little games tonight. I’d be more than happy to watch you take care of yourself should you feel so inclined.”

“Darling, I think you are the one who needs to be taken care of.”

James quirks an eyebrow but does not argue. As he studies your gaze, he recognizes the same mischievous cunning he’s come to associate with pleasurable experiences. “Why do I have the sense that you have some tricks up your sleeves?”

“Because you know me so well.” You kiss him roughly, teeth biting down on his lower lip.

James grunts when you do, his arms snaking around your waist so he can pull you flush against his chest. “What are your plans with me, Mrs. March?”

“Get on the bed.”

Your tone is low and stern, leaving no room for argument. As you slip out of his grasp, James excitedly slips his suit jacket off, watching you cross the room. Against the far wall, your trunk of treasures sits on an antique chest of drawers, flanked by two red candles. The moment you light them, you hear the bed springs as James takes a seat.

“So what is it tonight, darling?” he asks in an almost bored tone. “Whips? Chains? Handcuffs? Gags?”

“No, no, none of that,” you say, casting a look over your shoulder. “Well, unless you’re a bad boy.”

James has slipped off his shoes and is in the process of unbuttoning his shirt sleeves. While he certainly looks interested, there’s also a sardonic smirk on his face, as if he’s doubting your ability to take his mind off his troubles.

Which is incredibly laughable since you have proven yourself to be a delightful distraction over the years.

“This is something new,” you say, opening the trunk. Inside, all manner of provocative and sinful toys sit posed and ready for use. A fair number of them have been used already. But tonight, you have a special item that you’ve been eyeing for some time. One you know James will love. “Take your clothes off.”

“You’re being so mysterious. You have me intrigued.”

“That’s the point.”

You glance over, watching as he meticulously removes his clothes until he’s down to nothing. The sight of his naked body always thrills you and you take time to admire it. James notices, raising his eyebrow.

“You look like you wish to devour me,” he says.

“I do. Now, close your eyes.”

James humors you and does as he’s told. Once you’re sure he’s not looking, you get yourself ready. You can see him tilting his head in your direction, listening to the sounds as if he’s trying to figure out what you’re doing. Ready, you secure your robe once more before slinking over to stand in front of him. You study his handsome face, reaching out to stroke his cheek before you gently tilt his chin up and lean down for a kiss.

James responds instantly, his hand coming up to seize the back of your head and grip it tight. In retaliation, you slip your hand around his throat and squeeze. He gasps in delight, eyes rolling back in his head when you forcibly break the kiss.

“We’re going to do a little role reversal tonight, my love,” you say, thumb pressing into his windpipe. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll make you come so hard you’ll blackout. If you’re bad, well…” You lick the shell of his ear, feeling him shudder. “That can be fun too.”

You ease up on his throat and James growls at you with a smirk. “Color me intrigued. What did you grab from our little treasure chest?”

You don’t answer his question. With a firm hand on his chest, you push him onto his back, leaving his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. A wink and a coy smile are all you offer before leaving a trail of precious kisses and bitemarks down his chest, towards his cock, which is already swelling in anticipation. James hums with approval, tucking one hand behind his head as a cushion while he watches your movements.  

Your hand wraps around his cock, leisurely stroking his length while your lips continue to kiss his pale skin. You’ve lost track of the number of times you’ve marked and claimed him, leaving red irritated skin in your wake. That primal urge wants to come out, but you hold it at bay. Not now. Not yet.

Gently, you lavish the head of cock with attention as your hand drops from his shaft to stroke his thigh. You hear his breathing hitch, see the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows his saliva. His eyes close for a moment as he simply enjoys your attention, the tension and stress starting to melt away. You squeeze both thighs hard as you take him further into your mouth. Not all the way, which you know he wants. Just enough to tease him with what he likes.

When his eyes flutter back open, they’re hooded with desire. “I must say, I truly enjoy you at this angle,” he says, peering down the front of your robe which has started to slip open. “It’s a particularly erotic visual—what the fuck are you doing?”

Without warning, you seize the backs of his thighs and push his legs up so that his knees touch his chest, leaving him far more exposed than he’s ever been in your presence. You let his cock slide out of your mouth as you straighten your stance, the thin sash of your robe falling away so James can see the flesh-colored dildo hanging between your legs, firmly secured to your hips by a leather harness.

“Helping you relax, darling,” you say in a falsely innocent tone, your hand stroking his thigh. “You’ve had me in this position. It’s only fair that I have you.”

He opens his mouth to answer, but whatever retort he prepared never reaches your ears because a split second later, you kneel by the edge of the bed, running your tongue across his tight ring of muscles. What you do manage to hear is something between a gasp and a moan, and you can’t help but smile to yourself.

James loves to be dominant. Always has. And while most of the time that suits you just fine, there are others when you’ve taken the reins. During those particular times, you’ve noticed James’s excitement seems to grow. The idea of being overpowered by the woman he loves thrills him. You can tell by the look in his eyes, the delight and surprise at the turn of events, and the way his body molds to your whims.

Even now his hips arch upward, seeking more friction than what you’re currently providing. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock and giving it a rough squeeze.

James thrashes against the bed. “Your mouth is truly a godsend.”

“Obviously not if you’re still stringing words together.” You jerk him off roughly, wrapping your lips around his pucker and sucking.

James throws his head back with a loud gasp, fists twisting the sheets. Empowered by his response, can’t help but keep your eyes on his face, the way his eyebrows knit together and his teeth dig into his bottom lip…if either of you showed up on camera you’d be recording him. His movements push him further up on the bed and you eagerly follow, kneeling between his legs on the soft mattress.

As you continue to loosen him with your tongue, you take your hand off his cock so you can reach for the bottle of lube in the pocket of your robe.

“You’re being an exceptionally good boy, my dear husband,” you coo, laying a bite on the round cheek in front of you.

Taking your hand off him, you uncap the bottle and let the cool liquid drip onto his overheated skin. James hisses only to moan when you start to spread the lube around his waiting hole.

“Darling, please.”

You pause, glancing up at him. “Is that begging I hear? Already?”

His cheeks are flush red which has traveled down to his chest. A chest that’s moving rapidly with each heavy breath. It’s a gorgeous visual that you’ll never get out of your head.

He is shameless in his need, reaching down to fist his cock. “You wouldn’t hear begging if you’d get on with it.”

Quick as a flash, straddle his body so you can grab the bindings attached to the headboard. “I told you to be good,” you scold, seizing his wrists and binding them. “That means, listening to me and not touching yourself. Also, don’t be an ass. I’m doing you a favor you know.”

“Is that so?” Once his hands are secured, he bucks up against you, again seeking the friction you deny.

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you, James. If you’re going to be rude about it, I’d much rather gag you. Is that what you want? To be gagged? Because that’s not all it’ll be. I’ll gag you and then go fuck off for a few hours, leaving you here, naked, and begging for me. Is that what you want?”

To your delight, James purses his lips and doesn’t speak. With a grin, you wrap your hands around his throat and give it a loving squeeze as you bend down to steal a kiss. It’s quick, just enough for him to want more before you shimmy down his body, back to the space between his legs. Shoving his knees up again, you swirl the lube around the loosening muscles with your thumb, watching with delight at the way James closes his eyes and throws his head back.

The sounds coming from your husband are positively sinful and you can’t get enough. His voice even climbs several octaves when you push a lubed-up butt plug in past his prepped muscles. His body shifts and clamps down around the toy, keeping it inside him.

“W-What did you do?” he asks, fingers digging into the bindings around his wrists.

“Just used something to help get you ready for me,” you purr, stroking his thighs again. “In the meantime…”

You slide his cock back into your mouth, causing James to exhale a string of obscenities. God you love the way he fills your mouth, not to mention the way he moans every time you suck him off. To have such a powerful man like James at your mercy sends a rush of pride through you. This man, this titan of industry and murder, is reduced to a sweating, shaking mass of limbs just by your mouth and hands. It’s empowering and addicting.

You pull your mouth off him, lewdly sticking out your tongue to lick the underside of him. “Such a beautiful sight,” you say, hand still wrapped tightly around him. “I look forward to seeing you on all fours.”

“Please…”

“Keep begging, darling. It turns me on.”

You lose yourself in the taste of your husband, sucking on his cock with practiced skill and precision. His body constantly moves under you, thrashing and flexing, trying to set the pace even when you have his hips pinned to the bed by your upper body. He really can’t help trying to take control even when he’s completely at your mercy.

You can feel he’s close but it’s not time yet. There’s no way you’re going to let him come without fucking him first.

Letting him slip from your mouth, you pull back, heart slamming against your ribcage as you see tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

“I was so damn close!” he whines.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there.”

Grabbing his hips, you flip him onto his stomach, forcing the bindings to twist. You maneuver him onto his knees, admiring the visual for a second: muscled and scarred back with taut muscles, perfectly round ass with a plug begging for you to replace with something bigger. You hook your finger through the ring and pull it out, listening to the shaky breath James exhales.  

He’s so ready for you.

You let the robe slip from your frame as you kneel behind him.

“Gorgeous. Just gorgeous. You look so ready for me,” you tease, lubing up the dildo with one hand as you run the other hand down his backside.

“Yes. Yes, please.”

“Please what, James?”

He doesn’t respond right away. You can feel him clinging to that last bit of control, which definitely won’t do. Fisting his dark hair, you yank his head back.

“Please what, James?” you repeat. “If I have to ask again, I’ll just leave you here. Hard and open, waiting…”

“Please have your wicked way with me.”

With a smirk, you push into him. Between the toy and your prep, it’s almost a smooth thrust. Keyword: almost. Instinctively, his body tenses, forcing him to clamp down around the head of your toy.

You drape yourself along his back, licking and sucking on his shoulder. “Relax, baby boy. Just relax. I’ve got you.”

You feel his shaking body exhale and the toy slides further in, more and more until you bottom out, your thighs snuggly tucked against his.

“There,” you say, stroking his hip. “That’s a good boy.”

You pull out and thrust back in. James throws his head back and lets out the most guttural moan you’ve ever heard. You do it again, thrilled by his visceral reaction. You take him roughly, thrusting in and out at a steady pace, loving the way his body moves under yours. You get why he loves to fuck you this way.

Holding this power over someone is addicting and you know you and your husband will be playing this little game for centuries to come.

Your mouth keeps busy, sucking and biting at James’s throat, marking the pale flesh. His noises are to die for. Moans and grunts, occasionally broken by swears and your name.

“Fuck, darling. Fucking hell, yes!”

“Do you like it, husband?” you coo in his ear. “Do you like your wife taking you from behind?”

“Yes!”

“Such a good boy taking my cock like this,” you groan, reveling in the sounds of his pleas and your hips slapping against his. “Such a good boy, letting me take care of you.”

“My dear, please. Please!”

“Please what?”

You see his hands flex in his bindings as he clenches them. “I’m close, dear. I need to come.”

“If you insist.”

When you pull out of him, he all but howls in disappointment. But he doesn’t need to worry. As quick as you did before, you flip him onto his back, shoving his legs up before pushing back into him. Now you can see the expression on his face, watch his mouth fall open as his head falls back against the pillows.

His rock-hard cock bounces against his stomach, leaving trails of precum in its path. When you wrap your hand around his length, it’s hot to the touch.

All you need to do is stroke him once and then he’s coming with a shout, jets of white painting his flexing stomach as he chants your name.

Your own neglected arousal is nearly painful at this point. Ignoring it for much longer is not possible. Without removing the toy from your shuddering husband, you release yourself from the harness and crawl up his body.

He opens his eyes just in time for you to sit on his face, forcing him to taste you. If his moan is any indication, he doesn’t mind in the slightest. Now you’re groaning, clutching fistfuls of his hair as you grind yourself along with his tongue.

“Yes, James, yes. Such a good boy.”

Your praise is punctuated with groans, his eyes closed as he sucks on your swollen folds. You’re too wound up yourself to hold back or prologue your pleasure. When you come, your body locks in place, nails digging into his scalp until the last waves of pleasure recede and you collapse next to him.

Both of you pant harshly. James tugs on his bindings. “Untie me,” he orders.

You do as he says, only to find yourself pinned beneath him, his mouth attacking yours in a biting onslaught of kisses. It makes you smile.

“Relaxed now, darling?” you tease when he finally draws back.

James yanks the toy out of himself with a wince, tossing it to the side. “You certainly know how to help a man take his mind off his troubles.”

“I live to serve, darling,” you say with a smirk. “As do you apparently. You did a marvelous job.”

James grunts before kissing you again, his seed now spread across your chest as he holds you flush against him.

“As did you, my love. Tell me, what other toys have you been dying to try?” he asks.

All you do is offer him a coy smirk. “A lady never reveals her secrets. All in good time, dear husband. All in good time.”

---

Fic Taglist:

@lejardinfleur @kitwalker64 @tatestripedsweater @milly-louise @kitwalker02 @xmaximoffic

[psychedellic-phase]

Perfect

A/N: this is a request that i got forever ago!! so sorry that it took me so long:(

ReidxFem!BAU!Reader

word count: 2.2k

tw: SMUT (unprotected sex, oral (road head, male recieving) , degradation, slight exhibitionism, all around rough sexy vibes plus a sweet ending)

Masterlist :)

The roads were always empty when you’d finally leave work. Your job was never nine to five; it was more like nine to midnight. Not that you minded; the company was always good.

The company was always Spencer. When everyone else would finally give up and go home for the night, he’s the one who always stayed. And once you started your torrid love affair with him, you stayed too. Most nights he’d take you in an empty conference room, or a bathroom stall. Everyone wondered why you two always seemed to have so much paperwork to do, when in actuality it wasn’t about the paperwork, it was about each other.

It started out how most friends-with-benefits situations do. You were both stressed, full of pent up frustrations and sexual energy with no outlet. It started after a case, him showing up at your door unannounced and practically jumping on you the second you let him in. That night ended with two earth-shattering orgasms, and sleeping next to your coworker.

You both swore it would just be that once.

“A moment of weakness,” you had told your girlfriends, but soon that moment of weakness turned into days, turned into months, turned into nearly a year of weakness. Nearly a year of janitors-closet hookups and concealer-caked hickies. Nearly a year of sexting and countless trips to the mile-high club.

It had been nearly a year, and even though you swore it was nothing, it was definitely something. Sure it was sex, but it was also the way he looked at you and the way he’d take care of you afterwards. It was the way he’d burn toast in the morning and kiss your cheek when you woke up. It was more than what either of you had bargained for, but neither one of you had gathered up the nerve to admit it.

You were hopelessly, desperately in love with each other, and neither of you even knew it.

“Staying late again?” You asked him, half sitting on his desk.

His eyes trailed up your legs, admiring how your skirt slid up. He cleared his throat, “Actually, I’m going home.”

You were taken aback. The matching bra and underwear under your clothes were counting on being taken off by him tonight.

“Oh, well, okay then.”

He smiled at you, that awkward smile he always does that you insist looks like a frog.

You made your way to your desk, embarrassed and red, wondering if he was suddenly tired of you. God, you hoped he wasn’t.

The two of you entered the elevator together, the air thick and awkward. Usually, you would’ve been halfway naked, doing god knows what right now, but instead you were standing three feet apart and wishing the elevator would fall through the floor.

When the doors opened, you exited simultaneously.

“Let me drive you home,” He said, delicately grabbing your wrist.

Your interest was piqued, “Oh?”

He pulled you a little closer to him, but not so close that security would see what he was trying to do, “I have plans for you.”

You giggled, “I like the sound of that.”

He pulled you to his car. The old, yellow thing must have been from 1926 and you were amazed it even functioned.

You followed him eagerly, dipping into the passenger seat with ease. He started the car, looking over at you with a gleam in his eyes that you swore was more than just the moonlight.

“So, what’s the plan, Reid?” You asked as he pulled out of the parking garage.

His hand met your thigh, stroking small circles on your bare skin, dangerously close to where you were already throbbing.

“I was thinking, maybe you could do something for me. I mean, since I am driving you home and all,” He looked over at you, devilish grin.

You bit your lip, “And what would that something be, Dr. Reid?”

He took his bottom lip into his mouth, “Surprise me.”

You took that as your opportunity to reach over, glide your hands up the inside seam of his pants and palm him. He was already rock hard, you could see the pants straining to contain him. You deftly moved your hand up, the same way you had a hundred times, and unbuckled his belt. Then you pulled down his zipper at a ridiculously slow rate.

“C’mon baby, the ride’s only so long,” He said, his voice strained and his breath already heavy.

“Then take the scenic route,” You whispered, biting at his neck as you dipped your hand into his boxers and pulled him out.

The moonlight allowed you to see the gleaming tip, mouth watering as you twisted your body so you could bend over. He tugged his pants down slightly and moved the seat back to give you more space and access.

Your tongue teased the tip first, swirling around the head and dipping into the slit. He tasted musky and salty, the same way he always did. You quickly used your lips to take the entire head into your mouth, sucking hard while your tongue touched anything it could reach.

The sounds coming out of his throat were animalistic, “God, stop teasing.”

He used one hand to gather up your hair and tugged on it gently, your mouth opening up wider. You hit a bump in the road, his cock forcing itself up into your throat and causing you to gag. You kept him there, as far in your throat as he could go. Your hand found whatever your mouth couldn’t reach and moved in the same rhythm as you did. You nipped and sucked at him, tongue drawing broad stripes up and down and up and down.

You removed your mouth for a moment, your hand smearing your saliva and his precum around as you jerked him. Your tongue found his balls sucking and squeezing each of them between your lips.

He bucked up into you, the car jerking.

You giggled, tongue still poking out to lick at him, “Watch the road, Reid.”

He groaned as your mouth and hands switched places, hands toying with him while you bobbed your head up and down. He thought he was going to explode.

“Get off,” he ordered, yanking your hair again, this time pulling you off.

You were confused, mascara under your eyes, cheeks puffy and hair a mess, “But—“

Spencer pulled off the side of the quiet road, “You’re going to go bend over the back seat.”

You wriggled in your seat, “But I want to—“

“You heard me. Back. Now.”

You got up on shaky legs, your neck aching slightly from the angle of the road head.

You opened the door, and bent over, allowing your skirt to ride up.

You felt Spencer behind you, his large hands warm on your thighs as he trailed his hands under your skirt, finding your panties and yanking them off. The air was cold against your wetness but you didn’t feel it for long. His hand traced the curve of your butt before grabbing at it roughly.

“You’re so desperate, pretty girl,” He whispered, sliding the tip between your folds, “You’ll let me fuck you here, in public, for anyone to see.”

You couldn’t do much but whimper. The way he could use his words to build you up and simultaneously tear you down was enough to make you push towards him.

He roughly grabbed your butt again, “Oh, very desperate today, aren’t we pretty girl?”

You nodded, but he couldn’t see.

“I said, aren’t we, pretty girl?”

“Yes!” You yelped, “Yes! Please, please, I need you.”

He pushed into you then, leaving no time for adjustment. His hands fit in the dips where your hips met your waist. He started at a brutal pace, your knees rocking back and forth against the rough seats, destined to be cut and bruised tomorrow. You didn’t mind it.

He grabbed your hair again, pulling your head back so he could look at you, “You like that, don’t you? For such a pretty girl, you’re so dirty.”

You nodded, “Only for you.”

The words meant more than you intended them to, but he didn’t notice, too busy palming your ass and muttering insults at you.

You could feel him in your stomach with every thrust, your wetness spreading around, no doubt dripping onto his seats.

“You’re really just a whore, aren’t you? A pretty little whore, but still a whore.”

Your arms were growing weak, unable to hold you up anymore. You slid down onto your elbows from your hands, arching your back as high as you could.

He yanked your hair, the pain melting into pleasure that flooded down your body, “Look at me while I fuck you.”

You turned your head slightly to catch a glimpse of him. He was sweaty, hair stuck to his forehead and beads dripping down his face. His shirt was half unbuttoned, a peek of skin poking out, tie undone lying across his shoulders. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the veins that line his arms and hands.

He looked like a God.

You turned back around, not able to handle the feeling in your chest in conjunction with the feeling in your lower belly.

“I’m close,” You muttered between groans, Spencer taking his fingers to your puffy clit and drawing fast figure eights.

“Cum all over me like a good whore. My good whore.”

That was enough to push you over the edge, pulsing and groaning beneath him. With a few extra sloppy thrusts, he was pulling out and cumming all over your ass.

You sighed, feeling the high that always came with him, but the low that always came the second he left.

You didn’t move. He was opening the glove box in search of tissues, wiping himself and you off before fixing your skirt.

He helped you up, knowing that your knees and elbows would be sore from holding yourself up. When you stood, he grabbed your hands to steady you and ran his hands through your hair. You saw that same thing in his eyes again, a lightness that could easily be mistaken for love.

“You know, you really are a pretty girl,” he said, his hand tracing from where he tucked your hair behind your ear to your chin. There he cupped the side of your face softly, pulling you into him for a kiss.

You’d kissed him a million times before, but they were different. They were always hot and heavy and frustrated and passionate. This kiss was light, sweet, kind. The kind that could be mistaken for love.

When he pulled away, you smiled at him.

“I-“ you started, before cutting yourself off. This wasn’t healthy, but if this was what you got, you’d take it. Any time with him was valuable time.

“What? What is it?” His voice was low, the moon above his head.

You blushed, realizing just how close he was to you. You wondered how you’d slept with him many times and this somehow felt more intimate than all of those experiences combined.

“I-we should get home.”

He smiled, “Right.”

When you got in the car, you turned away, knees facing the door. He instinctively put his hand out to find your thigh, but found nothing.

He sighs, “Did I go too far? I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so so sorry. I thought you liked–“

You laughed, voice only cracking slightly, “No, you were perfect.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He asked, voice high and nervous, nasally and wary.

“That is the problem,” You sighed, turning to look over at him. Even driving, he was somehow the most beautiful thing to ever grace this earth, “You’re perfect.”

He chuckled lightly, “Far from it.”

You reached out for where his hand was on the stick shift, placing your fingers over his, “Perfect.”

He looked over at you for a moment too long, car swerving as he did so.

You smiled, “Watch the road, Reid.”

He glanced between where his eyes should’ve been and where they wanted to be, “It’s hard to pay attention to the road with you here.”

“Really? Why’s that?” You said, sliding effortlessly back into the usual flirty banter. But the words left unsaid were on the tip of your tongue.

“Because I love you.”

He said it easily, honestly, more like a promise than a proclamation.

You squeezed his hand, the words falling over just as easily, “I love you too.”

He grinned, looking over at you once more, “I mean it. I don’t know when or where or how, but I fell in love with you, pretty girl.”

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, “I don’t know when or where or how, but I fell in love with you too, pretty boy.”

——————

Taglist:)

@slutforthegubes @safertokiss @tomorrowmeansoportunities @fullwattpadmusictree @helloniallslovelies @patronising-raven  @anthoqhila @chocolateflowerzipperbear @imjusthereformggcontent​ @haliekayy​ @drspencerreidscum @youre-a-wallflower-charlie​ @blameitonthenight21​

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

35. Every inch of you

Prompt used- kissing their bruises and scars| implied smut | angst | dedicated to @irrelevantdrarry and @riana-drarry and @weirdvibeskid for bringing a smile upon my face.

" one night, Draco that's all I asked! Molly worked soo hard on the dinner, the entire Weasley family was nothing but nice to you even though they've practically hated you and you didn't even have a little courtesy to say thank you for the dinner. You know what Molly said it to me, I'm sorry harry if you both felt like we intruded into your little world because Draco didn't seem to enjoy it, what was all that about ? I thought you wanted to know the people who practically raised me " Harry snapped as soon as they entered the flat

" who said otherwise that I wasn't nice to them ?" Draco rolled his eyes storming into the bedroom

" oh I don't know, maybe the fact that you didn't laugh at even a single joke Arthur said, or the fact that you didn't appreciate Molly's cooking or the fact that you didn't even offer any of them even a single smile !" Harry exclaimed following him into the bedroom

" I was nice-"

" oh yeah, I'm sure not offering a smile is not being nice. They're my family Draco, the least you could do is say thank you-"

" and I did say thank you when you weren't around "

" you did? Then how come Molly asked me if you didn't enjoy the dinner or something ?" Harry threw his hands in the air aggressively

" I don't know, maybe one thank you wasn't enough-"

" what ? You're actually blaming-"

" I didn't mean it " Draco sighed collapsing over the bed

" you better not because you can insult me for once but not them. They're my everything, they mean much more to me than anything else. I'm not mad at you Draco, I'm just upset that you didn't made them feel welcome "

" well what do you want me to do? Hang a bloody welcome sign over my neck ?" This time Draco threw his hand in the air aggressively

" I- you know what- I can't have this conversation-"

" you're not walking out " Draco interjected locking the door with a spell

" oh so now I can't walk out because my beloved boyfriend doesn't want to tell me what was the actual reason he was being an arse ?" Harry crossed his arms in front of his torso, watching Draco tentatively.

" I was never an arse harry- "

" you were and don't even try to deny that. What happened to you when you reached there? You were so excited to meet everyone, nervous even but as soon as you step in and they welcome you, it seemed as if you didn't want to be there ?" Harry asked timidly.

" Because I didn't belong there harry, I never will. I was excited to meet everyone but the moment I step in I realised that those can never actually love me-"

" but they do!! " Harey exclaimed enclosing the distance between them

" no harry. Nobody does, I'm a death Eater remember. They might forgive me but they will never forget that I am and will Always be tainted by this unfortunate scar that defines my entire life " draco snapped standing up, facing harry.

Harry's face immediately etched into confusion " no they don't draco. I've grown up with them, I know they would never feel that way about you "

" what If they do? You don't know that harry"

" yes, yes I do and they do not think of you that way. If I can move on and love you, then so can everyone"

" but that's the problem harry, I don't deserve you. You love me and that is the biggest problem of them all, you're in love with death Eater, how can you possibly love me ?" Draco's voice broke

Harry stood there in silence, contemplating how the visit to his so called family have erupted a volcano of thoughts of how draco didn't deserve him. It has been 2 months since they got together and somewhere harry Always knew that draco felt that way about himself, that he was too good for him but it was far from truth. He didn't care if he was too good for himself or if he himself was too good for draco, he cared more about how draco understood him more on the nights when harry had no one, he cared more about completing his bucket list with the only person who had managed to bring up a smile upon his face when no one else could, he cared more about how draco loved him like he was the only person in the world and that was more than enough for harry.

Harry extinguished the distance between him and draco and slowly by looking in draco's eyes, uncuffed his sleeves.

" what- what are you doing harry ?" Draco nervously asked

" doing exactly what I should do " harry didn't put a single moment in vain in bringing draco's left arm to his lips and kissing his dark mark

" harry -" draco's eyes reflected the light glare coming from the window, a glint of surprise and sadness in them

" I love you nonetheless of who you were, who are you and who you're going to be. I've made my decision and I don't give a tiny rats ass about how you don't deserve me. I think I can make my decision of who deserve me or not and I've made my decision, to stay, forever " harry poured into the grey orb of draco's eyes, looking for any sign of argument he might bring upon and when he didn't, he pressed his lips against that of draco's..

" why do you love me so much ?" Draco breathed In between the kiss

" because if I could take one person to that cupboard under the stairs where I lived, I'd take you out of everyone to vanish all of those bad memories and create new ones " harry replied mumbling against his lips. Draco stopped for a moment, a tear dropping from his eyes onto his cheeks, his forehead pressed against harry's.

" I love you " was the only thing Draco could muster up to say.

" I know " and harry kissed Draco more firmly now. From the sweet kisses they had shared in the past, their kiss had taken a road which became more messy, more tongue and more lust. Without thinking twice, draco bought Harry's hand to the Button's of his shirt. Getting the hint harry unbuttons draco's shirt and let his gracefully fall behind.

" are you sure ?" Harry breathed

" I am. Are you ?"

" yes, I am " and Harry's hand roamed the bear soft chest of Draco's, tracing the lines of scars and bruises from the war but more beautifully as if he was touching a mural art over a canvas. Draco himself didn't waste time in unbuckling Harry's belt and letting it drop to the ground.

" this changes everything " harry mumbled again

" and I want It to " and with that harry didn't ask further and simply, more rapidly unbuckled draco's pants and pushing it down his legs. Realising they had been standing for Long, harry softly pushed draco onto the bed behind, letting him have a heavenly fall before him. And as beautiful as it was to see Draco sprawled on the bed with just his boxers, Draco didn't have that. He pulled harry the waist of his pants, letting him collapse over him.

" you've got absolutely no idea, how bloody perfect you are" harry mumbled as draco pushes Harry's pants down his legs.

" I love you " draco moans as harry harshly pressed his lips against draco's neck, kissing softly all over to find his sweet spot.

" I love you " harry hummed as he licked a stripe over his neck. In a sweet saviouring moment, he was desperate to hear the sound of draco moaning again so he started sucking softly over his neck to find that one sweet spot and just when Draco erupted a moan more loudly than before, harry attacked that spot more, only to hear him moaning over and over again. The moans leaving draco's soft lips were sending sparks all over his body, flaming a sudden urge in him to pin draco to bed and want to do absolute sinful things to his body until he's withering.

" fuck " draco moaned, his eyes rolling in the back of his head, shooting flames inside Harry's right to his bottom. Sucking more painfully erotically, draco put his hand into Harry's hair as an unknown reflex and grasped them to find an unknown leverage but it resulted in Harry violently moaning against draco's neck.

" fuck- harry- just- need you " draco moaned as he bought Harry's face to his lips for a sloppy, haste and Messy kiss. He swiftly but hastily unbuttoned Harry's shirt and threw it somewhere in the room, leaving them both in boxers and briefs.

" I love you " harry mumbled as he started pressing soft kisses down his neck until in a glimpse he noticed a mark on draco's chin.

" Where did you get it from ?" Harry asked as he supported himself by his elbow to watch draco from a distance.

" Accidental magic. I think i was 10, i accidentally picked up a shirt from the ground but somehow it tangled on my leg and i fell over the side of the bed " draco told, harry looked at the mark before he bowed down a little and kissed the scar.

" what was that for ?" Draco asked smiling

" To remind you I love you nonetheless your scars or bruises " and with that harry kissed draco's finger, knowing he had accidentally got a paper cut a few days ago, then placed a soft kiss over the top of his head from a bruise he got yesterday when he hit the door too hard..

" This is to remind me of how much I hate myself for doing this to you "

" I forgave you a long time ago " draco reassured

" I know" and harry softly kissed against draco's sectum semptra scars, his eyes moistening up at the memory.

" Hey, look at me. It happened a long time ago. It's fine " draco cupped Harry's face, making him look into his eyes. And Harry nodded.

Draco kissed softly over Harry's nose " this is for kicking you in the face in 6th year, I didn't like doing it but shit was it good "

Harry chuckled, leaning down to kiss his lips..

" I want to kiss you " draco mumbled

" You are "

" No I want to kiss every inch of you. I want to kiss every part of your body because it has been through so much. I want to kiss all of it away to put new memories " draco softly. Harry looked at him in awe, not believing he has actually said something like that. Struck in unknown saddening surprise Harry leaned into draco neck and let his feelings create little sobs.

" It's alright harry, it's alright " draco mumbled as he softly brushed Harry's hair.

" I want to kiss you too, every inch of you "

" Then lets do it " draco smiled and incadascently they briskly fell into the intimacy of taking away a part of one another tainted with painful memories, replacing them with love and creating hocruxes in every inch so a part of their souls lived forever in another.

Requests open | masterlist to all prompts now available

Sorry for the delay, I'm traveling so it would hard for me too keep up but I am very thankful for all the sweet responses in the past few days, it helps me to keep going.

Day 34- bath with me | Day 36 - angel

[abitofboth]

47 for the fluff prompt ask 😊🌸

Thanks and I hope you have a good day!!

Thank you!! I hope you have a lovely day too! <3

Send me a lokius prompt!

My ao3 <3

47. “I told you to take care of yourself.”

“Oh, c’mon Loki, it’s really not that bad.” Mobius sighed, leaning this way and that to keep up with the god’s preening over him. “‘S just a couple of scrapes, it’s not like I lost a leg or something.”

Loki pulled back from where he was cleaning a gash on Mobius’s face to look him directly in the eye. “If you don’t look after yourself, I’ll be the one chopping your leg off.” He said dryly.

“Oh, ha ha,” Mobius rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping off his words. “You’re quite the jokester.”

Loki just smiled at him, flicking his nose before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

They sat in comfortable silence for a small while, Loki flitting back and forth between Mobius and the small first aid kit sitting next to him on the bathroom counter, dabbing at cuts and scratches and rubbing in all different types of creams and balms. He wasn’t exactly used to this Midgardian-style of medicine, more accustomed to the more natural practices of Asgard, but with Mobius’s help and a good read of all the labels, Loki found himself with a pretty good grasp of what everything was used for.

“Uh huh, that one’s for muscle pain.” Mobius pointed to a blue tube, handing it to Loki so that he could read the label to memorise. “Works really well if you’ve had the shit kicked outta you.”

Loki smirked, raising an eyebrow and looking Mobius up and down. “So you need this one?”

The beaurocrat just laughed fondly, starting to unbutton his shirt. “Yeah, asshole, I do need that one. I don’t have a youthful twenty-something body anymore.”

Loki brushed Mobius’s hands out the way, his deft fingers taking over and undoing the rest of the buttons. He carefully pushed the fabric off his shoulders, mindful of the bruises littered over him, and pulled the shirt from his arms, draping it over a hook on the back of the door.

He eyed Mobius’s torso up, red, purple, and black marks all over him. He let out a sad sigh, looking at him with sympathetic eyes and being met with a sheepish grin from the other man. Gentle fingers traced over his skin softly, caressing anywhere where it wouldn’t hurt and avoiding the painful areas.

“I told you to take care of yourself.” Loki murmured under his breath, frowning at his lover’s hurt body. “Why do you keep putting yourself in these situations?

“Sweetheart, it’s my job.” Mobius reasoned, sagging where he sat as Loki started to rub the cream in. “If I didn’t go out there and fight then what would be the point?”

Loki frowned, pursing his lips as he leant over Mobius’s shoulder to rub some into his back. “The point would be that you’d be safe.”

“C’mon, and sit behind a desk all day? How boring.” He handed Loki a towel after he’d washed his hands, letting him dry them before taking it off him again and draping it over the bathroom counter. “I wanna see things, Loki! I wanna know life outside the TVA; live through history and find out the future. How many people can say that they’ve met Shakespeare’s Swedish speaking variant?”

Loki shook his head, smiling fondly as he packed away the first aid kit. “Darling, I don’t even know who that is.”

Mobius barked out a laugh, flapping his hand at the god in mock dismissal. “Just some playwright from Earth. Wrote maybe the most famous pieces of theatre of their history, but it’s no big deal I’m sure.”

The god rolled his eyes, holding open Mobius’s shirt for him and pulling it back on once he’d thread his arms through the sleeves. One by one, he buttoned it back up, taking care not to knock into him. “Well, Mobius, if you really must go and see your Midgardian plays, could you do so without getting your arse kicked next time?”

He just grinned up at Loki, jumping down from the bathroom counter and tucking his shirt in his trousers, flinching slightly when he pressed too hard against a particularly painful bruise. “I don’t know, kinda makes the whole thing more fun. Plus, I get to spend time with my pretty nurse afterwards.”

Loki scoffed, trying to hold back a smile in mock annoyance. He quickly tied his hair up out of his face before folding his arms and looking down at Mobius expectantly. “And does this pretty nurse get a ‘thank you’ for his work?”

Mobius wasted no time in going on his top toes to press a kiss to Loki’s lips, humming sweetly and caressing his cheek, his thumb dancing over sharp cheekbones.

Pulling back, he met Loki’s flushed face with a cheeky wink. “Thanks, nurse.”

[bloobeary]

Steve comes home to Bucky starfished right in the middle of their bed.

Sometime between when Steve left for the compound and now, Bucky must’ve gotten home. He’s showered if the lingering smell of shampoo and the towel half in the hamper is any indication. It's hot as hell outside, and even though they have the AC cranked all the way up, they can still feel it.

It makes sense then, that the covers are all pooled on the floor at the foot of the bed. Steve smiles and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He’s known Bucky since he could walk, and seeing him still makes him feel giddy--that should be embarassing, but he really can’t find it in him to care. It's reciprocated, he knows, Bucky only tells him about a thousand times a day.

Steve wants to get into the bed and lay on top of him like a lizard on a hot rock. Bucky will let him, even if it means they get sweaty from being pressed together in the dead of summer. Its just sometimes Steve misses him so bad its like he never came back, it makes him want to crawl under Bucky's skin because close ain't close enough.

“What’re you staring at?” Bucky mumbles, not turning over from where he’s face down on the bed.

Steve smiles and runs a hand through his hair before unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves. “You.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh, and stretches a little. Steve watches as all of his muscles bunch, and then relax. “Sap.”

“I happen to like you, a little.” Steve says to his defense, and Bucky props himself up on his elbows so he can turn and look at him. Steve’s well aware that he’s looking at Bucky like the sun shines out of his ass, but it makes Bucky grin, at least.

“How'd I get so lucky, huh?” Bucky says, and Steve rolls his eyes. “Get over here.” He asks, and Steve walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. He puts a hand in Bucky’s hair and dips down to kiss him. “Mm. How was uh--” Bucky starts, but Steve just kisses him again, not really up to talk about his five thousand meetings.

“Okay.” Bucky laughs and rolls over onto his back, grabbing the front of Steve’s shirt to pull him down too. He sits across his lap, feeling ridiculously overdressed in his button up and slacks compared to Bucky’s boxer brief and one sock ensemble.

“You get beat up too bad?” Steve asks, putting his hands on Bucky’s bare chest, fingers spread out, thumbs touching with room to spare.

Bucky laughs, and rubs his hands warm on Steve’s thighs, the metal cool even in the heat. “Nah."

“Hm.” Steve says, and he has a feeling that he’s being lied to. “Turn over.”

“What?”

“Turn over.” Steve repeats, and drums his fingers on Bucky’s collarbones.

“Why?” Bucky asks, a little suspicious, a little intrigued.

Steve smiles and shrugs. “I wanna give you a massage.”

Bucky blinks, and then taps Steve’s knee. He sits up, giving Bucky enough room to flip onto his stomach, propping his chin on his hands. “Why?” He asks again.

“What's with the third degree, Barnes? I can't just want to do something nice for you? Huh?” Steve says, exasperated and a little amused, and leans down to kiss Bucky’s shoulder. He spies a yellowing bruise there, and frowns at it before reaching into the nightstand to find some lotion. Bucky laughs a little. “I said earlier,” Steve starts, warming up his hands. “I like you.”

“Christ,” Bucky laughs. “Fine. Take off your shirt, though.”

It’s Steve’s turn to laugh. He raises an eyebrow but starts to unbutton it anyways.

He doesn’t ask why, but Bucky answers it for him. “If I have to sit through a massage, you should at least have your tits out.”

“Jesus,” Steve feels himself blush. He tosses his shirt off the side of the bed. “If you have to. Yeah, real favor you’re doing me, buddy.” He says, and Bucky just props himself up a little to give Steve a wolfish smile like he's about to say something smart. Steve leans forward and smacks a kiss on him to shut him up before sitting up again. “You ready?”

“You have the all clear, Captain.” Bucky says, and Steve smiles at him as he settles down again.

Bucky’s quiet the whole time Steve works up through his shoulders and upper back, even when he presses down hard enough to feel the lactic acid pop under his thumbs. His breathing is constant and calm as Steve carefully works through the scar tissue on his left side. Maybe he should put on some music; his thoughts might run away from him in the silence, and he's not feeling up to rage-crying about all the bullshit they've had to go through just to get here, today.

Bucky breaks the silence before Steve can even reach for his phone, though.

"Hey," Bucky says, and Steve hums. "You remember..." He starts, and takes a deep breath. Steve doesn't say anything while Bucky finds his words; this could go anywhere really. "'Member when you got pneumonia--"

Steve laughs. "Which time?"

"S'it matter?" Bucky mumbles, and Steve shrugs, guess not. "We got that menthol stuff from the older couple that lived a few floors up, remember?"

Steve thinks about it while he rubs circles into Bucky's triceps. He doesn't remember much, truthfully, about the specifics. Probably because he was busy hacking up a whole lung and trying not to die. What he does remember though is sitting just like this, except backwards, how Bucky sat next to instead of on top of him and rubbed the sticky ointment all over Steve's back. It helped, either the menthol or Bucky's warm hands all over him, he's not sure which, but it helped.

"Yeah, Buck." Steve says, finally. He smiles when he remembers something else, too. "You got it in your eyes."

"Did I?" Bucky asks, and Steve nods even though Bucky can't see him. Bucky breathes in deep again. "The things you do for love," He mumbles, and Steve just smiles at the back of his head.

He rubs down sides and the broad flat of his lats; Steve re-lotions and sets his hands right above the dimples of his back. He puts his weight into it as he pushes his thumbs up the ridge of spinal erectors, and Bucky gasps.

“Buck?” Steve asks, lifting his hands, a little worried he poked at an invisible bruise.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Bucky says, labored. Steve puts his hands up higher, scared.

“That hurt?”

“No. Yeah. Jesus, do it again.” Bucky says, and honest to God squirms. Steve’s eyebrows go up. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Bucky like this. “Feels good, baby. Keep going.”

“Not beat up too bad my ass,” Steve says, and Bucky just kicks him with his heel softly. Steve laughs and can’t help but lean in to give Bucky a kiss on the cheek before getting back to it.

They’re both sweating by the time Steve’s through but Bucky’s so relaxed he can barely keep his eyes open. Steve tries, and fails, not to feel too smug about that.

“Stop.” Bucky says, flipping onto his back and waving his hand at Steve. “Quit makin that face.”

“I ain’t got a face.” Steve says, but he laughs anyways. “I was right, say it.”

“Nah,” Bucky opens his eyes and they focus on where Steve’s standing, hands on his hips. Bucky eyes him appreciatively and then sighs again. “Get over here,” He says for the second time. “Take your trousers off.”

Steve makes a fond face at the choice of word but undoes his belt anyways. “I do all the work ‘round here.” He steps out of his pants. “You should compensate me for my services.” He says, and Bucky laughs at him, tipping his head back against the headboard. Christ, Steve hasn’t seen him this relaxed in ages. Why the hell don’t they do this more often?

“I will,” Bucky says, a promise, and then makes a grabby hand at Steve. “But if that’s not what you meant, my wallet’s in the closet.”

Steve’s briefs hit him square in the chest, too loose to care to catch them. “Shut the hell up, Barnes.”

[sammykhwrites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Edward Hyde/Dr. Robert Lanyon, Dr. Henry Jekyll/Dr. Robert Lanyon Characters: Dr. Henry Jekyll, Edward Hyde (The Glass Scientists), Dr. Robert Lanyon Additional Tags: Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Porn with Feelings, Spanking Summary:

Lanyon found out about Hyde, and Henry's told him everything. It's time for Lanyon and Hyde to 'talk' out their remaining issues.

"You know he's too busy to fuck you."

Lanyon glared, Hyde smirked.

"Just saying." Hyde added with a shrug to rub it in. "You're better off moving on to someone else."

Lanyon was silent a moment, thinking before he spoke. Hyde raised a brow as Lanyon looked him over.

"You're him, right?" Lanyon asked finally. "Technically speaking. Same body and mind?"

Hyde rolled his eyes, and turned to hide the blush that was beginning to warm his face. "How are you still not getting it? You both had that long boring drunken talk all about it. You even cried, that was funny."

Lanyon gave a small smirk of his own, earning a glare from Hyde. "So you were watching."

Hyde fidgeted, this conversation not going remotely as planned. "So what? I only thought it would end in drunken sex, not be a snoozefest the entire time." Hyde stood up to glare at Lanyon more directly. "Fuck this! We all know how much you hate Mr. Edward Hyde!" He sneered, shoving his hand into Lanyons chest. "Because I'm the worst parts of him. You can pretend all you fucking want but you have never made your hatred for me a secret!"

Lanyon stumbled back as he was shoved, and caught Hyde's wrist before he could be shoved again. Lanyon smiled, further pissing off Hyde, who began trying to yank his hand out of Lanyon's grip. "That was before I even met you. Do you know how frustrated I was only ever hearing about you? Seeing only the damage you caused and never anything else?"

"Yeah? Well that's cause I hated you back! You just existed to ruin my fun, of course I would avoid you as much as possible!" Using Lanyon's grip on his wrist as leverage, he pulled the man closer. He grinned his best Spirit Of London grin, "I very much enjoyed torturing his psyche enough to let me out. I even sent him waking nightmares after you convinced him to sell me out!" Hyde felt his anger spike as Lanyon only laughed, and he raised his fist. Lanyon caught the hit before it could land, spun and pinned Hyde to the wall, smirking.

"What's so fucking funny!?" Hyde seethed as he struggled.

"Now that I know you, and who you are, I just realize that I was jealous. You were in his will, Rachel always spoke the world of you, and I only chose to see the destruction, that you thought you could do whatever you wanted, and fuck up anything Henry ever worked for. Now I know that it's much different. You have never had to deal with any consequences, have you?"

Hyde settled, fists clenched beside his head where Lanyon held him. He smirked. "That was Henry's job to deal with."

"Precisely what I thought." Lanyon said, moving his head closer. "It's time someone taught you a lesson." He said with a low tone into Hyde's ear. Hyde swallowed, his heart pounding as his anger was ripped from him in favor of a heat reminiscent of the night Lanyon first met him. He looked up and met Lanyon's piercing eyes, and pushed forward, pressing his lips to Lanyon's. The kiss was rough, but passionate as Lanyon reciprocated, pinning Hyde with the rest of his body as Hyde's heart pounded harder. He didn't have a chance to speak as Lanyon pulled away,  and yanked him from the wall by his wrists, shoving him against the work desk. Hyde pushed himself up against the desk to protest but was pushed forward, forced to bend over the desk. Lanyon leaned over him keeping one of Hyde's arms pinned behind his back, his breath tickling the back of Hyde's neck, eliciting a shiver. "Would you like to pay for your crimes Edward?" He whispered, "Or would you like to continue talking this out?"

Hyde squirmed under Lanyon, panting as he tried to keep up with the anger, and the arousal. Lanyon held him in place, waiting patiently for an answer. Hyde scowled as the urge to tell Lanyon to fuck off became a sole urge to tell Lanyon to fuck him . "Do your worst." Hyde consented with a snarl. Fucking was way more fun than talking anyway.

Lanyon began unbuckling his own belt with his free hand, and pulled it loose, ignoring Hyde's impatient squirming. He set the belt next to Hyde's head, just in view, as he then worked on undoing and pulling down Hyde's pants.

Hyde let out an anticipatory whine, giving no more fucks as he succumbed to lust.

“Not yet.” Lanyon said, earning a huff from the man under him. “I’m not going to just give you what you want. You’re going to take your punishment, and get what i’ll give you.” He grabbed the belt, and traced it over Hyde’s bare ass, a warning.

Hyde squirmed, “Get on with it you prat- ah!” He cried out as the belt was struck across his ass, and he felt Lanyon rub the sting away, before landing another strike, eliciting a hiss. “C’mon, you can hit harder than that.” Hyde taunted, smirking. As requested, the next hit had him yelling out. “Ah, hahh, shit.” Hyde panted, free hand gripping the edge of the desk.

Lanyon chuckled. “Just so you know, I do intend on wiping that smirk off your face.”

“I’d love to see you try Robert.” Hyde snarked, and cried out again as the belt cracked against his ass again. “Ghh! Hnn~”

“I see you looking in the mirror, Is he watching?” Lanyon asked, rubbing the sore spot, loving the way Hyde squirmed under his hand.

“Heh, you bet he is. Ghh, Bastard’s enjoying every-every second too.”

Lanyon leaned down again, “ Good .”

“Mmn, no-not fair! You-you both can't gang up on me like this! Gah!” Hyde cried out again at another crack of the belt.

“What is he saying?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know- Gahh! Shit! Ow! Okay!” Hyde cried out as Lanyon landed three consecutive strikes.

“Indeed I would.” Lanyon mused, as Hyde’s free hand rubbed his ass.

“He said...hhh, he said it's really hot to see us like this. You and your strong hands holding me down while I do nothing but squirm and shout." Hyde was blushing furiously as he spoke.

Lanyon set the belt down to run his finger through Hyde's wild hair. "Good boy." He praised.

"Excuse me?!" Hyde protested, his blush deepening, and his squirming resumed in ernest. "You do not get to treat me, The Spirit Of London At Night, like a dog ! Ow!" Hyde's tantrum was interrupted by another strike of the belt, and further resulting complaints were met with more.

Lanyon knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer, his own arousal growing uncomfortable. "Enough of that." Lanyon ordered, striking again when Hyde continued to rant. "You know what, I'm going to strike you until you admit to being a good boy for me."

"Fuck you, like tha-Ah! Like that would even-OW! Shit, it's not going to work! Shit !" Hyde tried to resist, but the quicker hits just increased the pain, and soon he could barely stay in place on the desk, Lanyon even having to restrain both his arms to keep his hand from getting in the way of the belt. Hyde began to grimace, and yielded soon after. "Fuck, okay! Hhh okay I'm..."

Lanyon set down the belt, "Go on~" he prompted, smacking with his bare hand when Hyde hesitated too long.

"Ghh, i'magoodboy." Hyde mumbled, turning away and mouthing 'Not' to Jekyll.

“Was that so hard?” Lanyon purred as he pulled Hyde up by his arms, looping his belt around them to keep Hyde restrained. He leaned into Hyde's ear. " I know I am~"

Hyde moaned, and Lanyon pulled him close, wrapping an arm around Hyde's waist.

Hyde squirmed as Lanyon ran a hand up his shirt, feeling along his skin resulting in a slight ticklish sensation, and couldn't help but tilt his head as Lanyon began sucking a hickey into his neck.

Patience was an omitted word in Hyde's vocabulary, proven by needy noises and failed attempts to buck his restrained hips. "Too fucking slow!" He complained, tugging at the belt holding his arms behind his back, and fighting Lanyon's grip. " Get on with it!"

Lanyon tsked, "Forgotten who's in charge already, have you?" He asked as he unbuttoned Hyde's shirt idly.

Hyde hissed as Lanyon bit into his neck, the actions going straight to his groin. "Fuck!"

Lanyon began grinding against Hyde's ass, teasing while also indulging his own arousal. He groaned into Hyde's neck, taking in the moans and impatient grunts up close. Once he was sure a dark bruise (that no doubt would last a week) was formed on Hyde's neck, he pulled away, and began dragging him to Jekyll's bedroom, leaving his trousers and underwear. behind.

" Finally!" Hyde muttered despite making Lanyon have to drag him and throw him into the bed. Hyde grinned, laying on his side, as Lanyon began to remove his clothing, looking the man up and down hungrily. "...I agree, he should give us a little show."

Lanyon smirked, and slowed his movements, letting his sleeves fall into the crooks of his arms, showing off his shoulders as he unbuttoned the shirt and his cuffs. He shrugged out of the shirt, facing Hyde as he folded it, and set it aside. "How are your arms?" He asked, unbuttoning his pants and leaving himself bare.

Hyde rolled his eyes. "Fine, it's my ass that needs attention."

"Oh, does it?" Lanyon asked. "I can find another belt."

"You know what I mean!" Hyde protested."Stop fucking around and fuck me already!"

"Hmm, once again Edward, you are forgetting that you're completely at my mercy." Lanyon mused as he undressed completely and walked over to the bed, grabbing Hyde's arm to position him so he was laying on his back on the pillows. Straddling him, Lanyon pressed his lips against Hyde's once more, his hands trailing over Hyde's torso. Hyde returned the kiss with fervor, moaning as he tried to get Lanyon to move his hands lower, pushing his hips up to no avail.

"Do you really think you deserve to get what you want?" Lanyon asked, breaking the kiss and pinning down Hyde's hips.

Hyde glared, a whine escaping him. "I deserve whatever I want!"

Lanyon chuckled, rubbing Hyde's thighs. "How about this, I give you what I think you deserve, and you just lay here and take it until I'm ready to let you cum."

"Ha! I can handle anything you can do to me!" Hyde boasted, grinning.

"Can you? I guess we will have to see." Lanyon mused, before caressing Hyde's cheek. Just looking into his eyes reminded Lanyon just how much he fell in love with them.  "Beautiful." He murmured, leaning down.

"The fuck are you get-Mm!" Hyde's protest was cut off by Lanyon's gentle kiss. Lanyon's touches turned soft and gentle. The blush on Hyde's face brightened and he squirmed impatiently. He gave a few muffled protests that Lanyon ignored, so as an attempt to get Lanyon to be rough with him again, he bit at Lanyon's lips.

Lanyon hissed, jerking back at a particularly painful bite, holding his lip, and Hyde smirked. "Get on with it if you don't want to get bit." Hyde snarked, pushing his hips up.

Lanyon only chuckled, and grabbed Hyde by his hair to force his head to the side. Hyde let out a pleased little moan, only for it to turn into a frustrated whine as Lanyon began to kiss at his neck, leaving gentle little pecks along the sensitive part of Hyde's neck.

Hyde gave a frustrated groan, tugging against the belt holding his arms together and trying to turn his head. Lanyon only licked along the sensitive stripe of skin.

"Lanyon!" Hyde growled, impatience only growing, and his squirming shifted into struggling.

"Do you want me to stop?" Lanyon whispered, kissing Hyde's flushed cheek.

Hyde glared. "No, I want you to give me more!" He snapped. "I want you to have your fucking way with me, manhandle me, something! "

Lanyon brushed a strand of hair that stuck to Hyde's cheek, out of his face and around his ear, before kissing along Hyde's jawline.

"Hello!? Are you even listening!?" Hyde protested, continuing to struggle until Lanyon had to pin his shoulders down to avoid a collision between shoulder and lips.

Lanyon shoved down his frustration, used to the easy compliance he'd get from Jekyll. Instead, he just smirked down at the pissy man beneath him. "You expect me to give you what you want for misbehaving?" He asked in a low tone, smirking at the shiver that went through Hyde. "If you think acting up will give you what you want, then you're wrong. If you want something from me, you beg for it. And even then, I may just continue doing what I want."

Hyde opened his mouth to snap at Lanyon, but was foiled by the shot of arousal he got from Lanyon's words, and a moan escaped instead.

"That's more like it. Now be a good boy and take what I give you." Lanyon ordered, before moving to kiss at Hyde's collarbone.

Hyde huffed through his nose, lying still for only a moment as he tried to keep his anger in place, and to fight the thoughts asking why Lanyon was even being gentle with him in the first place. He glanced at the mirror, and knew Jekyll was thinking the same. It seems they both expected rough play, and were trying to figure out why.

Hyde flinched as Lanyon moved lower, kissing at his ribs, and Lanyon paused. "Did I hurt you?" He asked.

Hyde shook his head with a pout. "I wish you did." He huffed. "Instead of stopping yet again. Spare me the welfare checks and hurry up! I've been hard for ages and you're taking your sweet fucking time!"

"So you are enjoying the soft treatment." Lanyon mused smugly, as if he couldn't feel the occasional twitch as he ran his hands over Hyde's body or licked at one of Hyde's sweet spots. Same body, same sensitivities.

Hyde's reactions may have been different than Jekyll's, but the way Hyde turned away from Lanyon and mirror after every soft moan that escaped every time Lanyon pulled a gentle shiver from a soft touch here, a light lick there.

Jekyll was ticklish, so it made sense that Hyde was too.

Lanyon teased at Hyde's ribs, the man below's argument dying as he squirmed, subtley trying to move from the ticklish sensations as Lanyon went over them.

Finally, just before Lanyon moved to kiss at his hips, Hyde had enough. "Stop!" He shouted, Lanyon sitting up at the shout to meet the furious eyes. "What the fuck are you even doing!? Stop being so gentle, and-and soft and ghhh it's driving me crazy! You're taking forever! You're supposed to be rough, make me bleed! Bite and scratch and beat me! Why the fuck do you insist on dragging this out when you can get us both off and be done with this!?" Hyde ranted, jerking furiously against his restraints.

Lanyon caressed Hyde's cheek, keeping it in place despite Hyde's petulant attempts to bite him. "When was the last time you were cared for? Really cared for."

Hyde switched to confusion, surprising Lanyon by thinking about the question. "Wha-what do you mean? I don't need to be cared for, I can care for myself!"

"I'm sure you can. You're a capable man. But I mean really cared for."

Hyde found himself unable to answer, and he squirmed in place, unable to look at Lanyon nor the mirror.

"Not even Jekyll has treated you this gently, has he? I know that man is terrible at caring for himself, so I know it must extend to you."

Hyde began to fight to sit up as a new emotion grew suddenly, and he glanced at the mirror to see Jekyll failing to hide his guilt and shame. "I-I don't..." Damn his tongue. Too many things too feel at once. He snatched his frustration back to glare back at Lanyon. "I am a creature of the night, I don't deserve  soft treatment!"

"Mm, see, that's where I disagree." Lanyon hummed, helping Hyde sit up while staying straddled. "I think you need someone telling you they forgive you. That you deserve kindness. And a gentle touch." Lanyon wrapped his arms around Hyde in an embrace, and resumed gentle kisses to Hyde's neck as he spoke.

Hyde was stunned. He didn't know how to react other than a soft shiver as his neck was kissed. His chest tightened and he squirmed in Lanyon's arms, but had no protests left. It felt...nice. Hyde found himself relaxing despite his constant arousal.

Lanyon drew out several more moans from Hyde as he continued the gentle foreplay a bit longer, before finally giving in to his own need, before grabbing the lube and spreading Hyde's legs.

Hyde bucked his hips impatiently, "Yes yes finally! Please just let me cum." He begged, though trying to sound pissed. It wasn't fair how nice it felt to be touched so gently. Even as Lanyon began to work him open, instead of just shoving himself in like Hyde was quite used to.

Hyde actually cried out sensitively when Lanyon flipped him over and pushed inside him, and leaned forward to press gentle kisses onto his neck. To say he was lost in pleasure would be an understatement. He was so used to one night flings and rough, kinky sex. He wasn't used to...feelings, and gentle touches, and how much he didn't want to admit just how good it felt.

His climax came slow, but it lasted longer than Hyde expected. Next thing he knew he was waking up in Lanyon's arms, untied and wrapped in a blanket.

Lanyon stroked Hyde's hair as the man came to. "You okay? You were crying by the end there." He asked, smiling when Hyde grumbled and actually snuggled closer.

"I don't cry."

"Sure you don't."

"But it...may have been...a decent time." Hyde said, sounding like the words physically burned to say.

Lanyon chuckled. "Next time we can go rough if you want. I know that you might like it better that way."

"I mean...once in a while...maybe, we can...do it likethisagain.." Hyde admitted.

Lanyon smiled. "My pleasure."

[obxfishon]

Consent

 JJ x Reader

Description: The Pogues teach a boy a very important lesson on consent.

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: okay I got a little carried away, but a very important lesson in this one, doesn’t go any further than some non consensual touches, but still a very serious topic :)  

“(y/n), c’mon we gotta get over to John B’s to meet the boys!” Kiara yelled from the other room. 

“You could help me find my other shoe rather than yell at me if you want this to move faster you know!” you called back, leaning down still searching for the matching converse. 

After another five minutes of you and Kie looking you found it and tied it on.

“Okay, let’s goooo,” you smiled and grabbed the keys to your jeep. 

You moved to the island a few months after Kie, around the time things had started falling apart between her and Sarah. Your Mom was big in the Hotel business so you were considered a Kook, but you had a love for the simpler things in life, Kie saw this and took you under her wing and introduced you to the boys. 

Your mom could be more on the strict side and wasn’t a fan of you hanging out with the Pogues, but that just seemed like an extra push to start hanging out with them. Usually you would be dressed like a Kook when going out, no matter what the event, had to keep up your mom's nice reputation, but tonight was different. Your mother was off the island for the week due to some conference she had to attend, this meant you didn’t have anyone looking over your shoulder telling you what to wear, how to act, or correcting your posture every few seconds. 

As soon as she left you told Kie to come and to bring outfit choices, this party would be the first one you could go to dressed how you wanted. Silly issue to be having, but the adrenaline rush this was giving you was something else. 

---

Pulling into John B’s house you saw all the boys carrying the keg into his van, and you girls wasted no time in jumping out and rushing to help pack things. 

“Hey ladies how- woah (y/n),” JJ’s words came to a halut as he saw what you were wearing. 

Usually every part of you was covered in public, meaning one piece swimsuits or tankini sort of things, tonight you were wearing a bandeau bikini top with an unbuttoned shirt hanging off your shoulders, leaving your midriff exposed for the first time. Your jean shorts were also shorter than usual, but the whole outfit just felt so, so you, for the first time. 

“Doesn’t she look great? Her mom is out of town for the week and we’re finally able to figure out her inner Pogue look,” Kie squealed. John B let out one of the whistles that are usually only heard in movies, 

“Damn (y/n), finally showing some skin,” he winked and pushed your shoulder as he walked past and into his house for the last load of beers. 

“Yeah gonna be a struggle to keep all the horny tourists off you (y/n),” Pope laughed and got into the van to get ready to go. Kie followed him and as you went to do the same JJ finally found his words again. 

“Uh, yeah, really trying to steal my shirtless look aren't you,” He joked and slung an arm around your shoulders causing some butterflies to stir. 

You and JJ had always joked and stuff back and forth, but you couldn’t help the feelings that grew for him, but you didn’t think he felt the same, he flirted with Kie as well, and any girl that would cross his path for that matter, so you saw it as just a helpless crush.

---

After arriving at the boneyard the crew set everything up and people slowly started filtering in, and Kie was quick to pull you out and you both started conversations with anyone who was willing to talk. Every so often JJ would swing by and replace your empty drink with a full one, you’d smile and thank him, and then disappear again. 

Within an hour the party was in full swing and you were properly tipsey, not drunk, but just enough that you could feel your worries slip away. 

Noticing your cup was near empty you finished it and started making your way towards where JJ was at the drink table, you made eye contact and before you could hold your cup up to signal you were empty a hand came to rest on your hip and turned you away from where you were going. 

“Oh, uh hi,” you look up to see some boy that you had never seen around before. 

“Well hello there gorgeous,” he smiled a crooked smile that some would see as cute, but you were all too aware of his hand that was making its way lower from its original placement on your hip. Trying to casually break away, you removed his hand and offered a quick, 

“Sorry I need to go grab a refill,” before trying to walk away again. 

Within seconds his arm was slung around your shoulders. 

“Ah perfect, I'm empty too, i’ll join you.” he smiled again and not knowing what else to do. You offered a small nodd, knowing as soon as you got closer to your friends they would take care of him. 

Back on your original course you looked up and made eye contact with JJ from a distance again, who was already looking at you, as well as Pope and John B. Even from a distance they could tell you were not comfortable, as you drew closer they already had a plan. 

“Ah! (Y/n/n), what’s up?” John B smiled a grin full of mischief as you finally reached the table. 

You opened your mouth to respond but the boy beside you took it upon himself to pull you closer to himself and answer for you. 

“The lady and I just need a refill,” he answered and sent a wink your way. 

Knowing the boys had something up their sleeve you played along and sent him a fake smile and finished it with an eye roll sent towards JJ as soon as the boy looked away. 

“Well sure thing bud,” Pope smiled and sent a wink your way. 

Before you knew it a cup beer was spilt all over the boy, and also you due to your proximity. The beer all over the boy caused him to release his hold and take a step back. Within these seconds JJ and John B had swung around the table, JJ pulling you towards him and John B offering apologies to the boy. 

“Oh bro I am so sorry, that usually never happens,” John B was fighting off a smile, everyone knowing it had happened on purpose. 

The boy scowled and looked back at you now in the arms of JJ, somehow not realizing that you weren’t interested. 

“C’mon,” he motioned to you, “let’s go dry off somewhere quiet.” 

“Nah man, I’ve got her, don’t worry I’ll take good care of her.” JJ responded and pulled you towards the back of the drink table with him. 

The boy rolled his eyes and finally walked away. As soon as he was out of view, you hit Pope in the arm. “That's for soaking me with beer,” followed by a hug for each of them, “and that's for taking care of him.” you laughed and the boys did as well. 

“Here,” JJ spoke, taking the unbuttoned shirt off he was wearing and replacing your beer soaked one with his. 

“Not like I need a shirt anyways, the ladies love a bare chest.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you laughed again as you shrugged on the new shirt. It was a bit bigger than the one you originally were wearing but smelled of JJ so it didn’t matter. 

You hung with the boys and helped fill drinks until a particular song came on. You looked across the beach and saw Kiara doing the same, as soon as you made eye contact she started running towards you. 

“Gotta go boys, this is Kie and I’s song!” you yelled at them before breaking into a run yourself and meeting Kie in the middle, breaking into a crazy set of jumping and movements that could very loosely be described as “dancing”. 

Feeling the alcohol running through your veins you close your eyes and throw your hands to the sky, head leaning back and spin in a circle, truly enjoying yourself. Opening your eyes you saw that Kie was doing some weird set of moves herself and you both laughed until you felt unwanted hands on your hips and a mouth by your ear, 

“Forget about me?” the boy from before whispered and you slightly panicked, Kie making eye contact with you and felt the tension. 

“Uh hey dude, did she say you could hold her like that?” She asked as she moved closer, going to make an attempt at breaking him off but the boy just tightened his grip and pulled the two of you away, you could feel little finger shaped bruises forming where his grip held strong. You saw her eyes flicker behind you and a smirk fell on her lips. 

“Dude, I think you have about ten seconds to let her go before you get the shit beat out of you.” Kie said in a sing-song voice looking directly at the boy with determination in her eyes. 

You heard him scoff and he moved his arms around you fully, a hand about to rest on your breast before you struggled and he was ripped off of you and you were in the arms of a more familiar boy. 

JJ held you to his chest and you relaxed into him, already feeling safer. 

“Bro what the fuck is your problem?” The still unnamed boy looked at JJ with rage in his eyes. 

By now a crowd was forming around JJ, the boy and yourself, and the music had cut off. Kiara, Pope, and John B all made their way to yours and JJ’s side, all staring at the boy who dared try to make a move on you without permission. 

“What’s my problem? Dude what’s yours? You can’t just go around touching girls because you can’t keep it in your pants.” JJ retaliated. 

“Oh please, she was enjoying it, weren’t you sweetheart?” He winked at you. 

“Nah nah nah, you don’t look at her, you’re speaking to me,” JJ looked at him with daggers in his eyes, “and I don’t think she expressed any type of way of saying that she enjoyed your touch.” 

“If she didn’t want my attention then maybe she should have been wearing something less..,” the boy tried to scan your body with his eyes, “revealing. She was basically asking for it.” The boy cocked his head to the side and stood his ground. 

JJ pushed you behind him, lacing his fingers in your own to show that he still had you, but not allowing the perverted boy to look at you anymore. 

“EXCUSE ME?” Kie tried to launch herself at the boy, but was held back by Pope. 

“What the fuck bro, the way someone dresses does not give you permission to do ANYTHING.” Pope spoke, still holding onto Kie’s thrashing form. 

“Listen here you little punk,” JJ sent a pointed look at the boy, “just because a girl is feeling confident, and wears something to show that, doesn’t give your grimey little hands permission to touch her at all. You can compliment her, tell her that you think she looks absolutely gorgeous, but you never, N-E-V-E-R, lay your hand on her until she says you can.” JJ speaks with anger dripping from every word. 

Looking around he takes in the crowd. 

“You know what, this goes for everyone, everyone should be educated. Consent is a very important thing, and I hope all you learned a very valuable lesson tonight.” JJ looked around the crowd. 

“Now get the Hell out of here, this party is over.” He spoke for the last time. 

The boy in front of you tried to turn and leave but John B caught his shoulder, “Ohh, oh no dude. You can’t go yet.” The boy looked up at him with a bit of fear in his eyes.

 “You owe our friend here an apology.” John B grabbed him by his shoulders and forced him over to where you were standing behind JJ still, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hand. 

The boy looked up and met your eyes, a softer look than before. 

“Uh, I’m-” he coughed, realizing that this had to be good or he wasn’t going anywhere, “I’m sorry that I offended you, that I did what I did without permission.” He looked at his feet then up at JJ and then the rest of the gang, “You do look very nice tonight.” He finished and John B threw him to the side, signaling that he could leave. 

“Damn right she does,” JJ muttered and you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

He pulled you around to his front and embraced you, the others joining in as well. 

---

You all rode back in John B’s van, JJ still not letting you go. After arriving back he offered to drive you back to your place, you accepted. He grabbed your keys and a hoodie from the house and put the grey material over your head and placed a small kiss on your hairline after. Saying your goodbyes to the rest you both got in your jeep and started the short ride to your house. 

“Um, JJ,” you almost whispered, scared to break the silence. 

He looked over at your small form curled in the seat, snuggled into his hoodie and grabbed your hand in a way to signal you to continue. 

“I was just wondering, um, and you don’t have to, but my mom isn’t home, and uh, 

I don’t really want to be alone, uh… would you stay with me tonight?” you look at him from your seat, and he brought your hand to his lips for a short kiss. 

“Of course,” he smiled at you and you returned it. 

--- 

When you got home you both seemed to move right for the bedroom, both exhausted from the events of the night. 

You changed into a large tshirt and sleep shorts, and him into something similar from a bag you didn’t realize he had with him. 

You both laid in the bed and he opened his arms, silently asking if you wanted to cuddle. You moved toward him again and laid your head on his chest, one of his hands running his fingers through your hair, the other laid on your waist and you flinched from an unexpected pain, thinking you didn’t want his hand there he went to move but you stopped him. 

“No, JJ you’re fine, I think I just have a bruise there or something,” You explained. 

Concerned, he grasped the hem of your shirt, looking up at you,

“Can I see?” he so innocently asked. 

You sat up and nodded, him pulling the shirt up just enough to see five small bruises formed where the boy’s hands had grasped you, a few crescent shaped scabs from where his nails must have broken skin without you even realizing. Both of your mouths dropped open in shock, his thumb rubbing softly over the bruises, wishing he could just turn back time and stop it all from happening. 

“Thank you,” you muttered, “thank you from stopping him, for being there for me, you literally gave me the shirt off your back, you were my shirtless hero,” you laughed, trying to bring some humor to the situation, and it worked. He giggled and looked up at you, you swore you saw his eyes dart to your lips but it happened so fast you swore you imagined it.

“(Y/n),” he started, conversation turning serious, “I would do anything for you, no matter the danger, I-,” he started to stutter, “I care for you, so much, so much more than a friend should, and I want to be with you, like you know-” he fumbled over his words, you could see his confidence fading with every word, so you stopped him with one word. 

“Yes.” 

He looked up at you with shock on his face, and then a smile crept on and he pulled you into a tight hug, breaking away just enough to look into your eyes, noses now touching, 

“Can I-” he started to ask and you cut him off with bringing your lips to his, finally living the dream you’ve had since you met him. 

After a few short moments you broke apart and cuddled back into the position you were originally in. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” JJ whispered and pushed a small kiss on your forehead. 

You just smiled, “What are we gonna tell the rest of the Pogues?” you giggled, remembering the rule that existed. 

JJ let out a breathy laugh and held you closer to him.

“I don’t even care, there isn’t a single thing in the world that could ruin this.” he smiled, and you both drifted into a blissful sleep.

[commonwealthoccurences]

Companion’s React: Sole’s Worn A Binder For Too Long (Part One)

Note: To binder wearers, please please please remember to take breaks from your binder! I know it can be difficult to embrace your body without it, but you deserve to take care of yourself, and it’ll benefit you in the long run. Once again if I handled any of this incorrectly, please let me know so I can educate myself and come back and fix it! Thank you!

TW: Injury

The scenario: Sole and their companion have been travelling for longer than they could remember. First, they trekked from Sanctuary to the Castle, then down to Diamond City, then up to a settlement in need of assistance, had a run in with a group of raiders… and well, you get the point. Their companion was ready to drop dead from exhaustion, feet aching for a break along with the rest of their body. 

The less-than-paved streets of the Commonwealth wore on anyone, much less the rugged terrain that threatened to tear up any boots, no matter the quality, and your willpower along with it if you were around long enough. By the time the pair had dragged themselves back to Sanctuary they were more than struggling, but Sole seemed to be doing much worse than they should’ve been. Their breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps, dragging up their throat painfully with every sharp inhale.

Cait: 

Cait slung Sole’s arm around her shoulders and hauled them inside Sanctuary’s gates, tossing some rough words at the guards who tried to ask questions. Too exhausted to care about diplomacy any more than she normally did, she simply needed them out of their way. Her shoulder ached with the weight of Sole’s nearly limp form, but she forced herself to continue forward. Eventually, they made it back to Sole’s house, and she almost busted down the door trying to get in.

Dogmeat leapt to his feet, tail wagging, delighted his favorite people were home, though he ran a worried nose over Sole’s leg and whined quietly. Cait eased Sole down onto the couch and watched them for a moment, trying to find a source for their rough breathing. When Sole clutched their chest Cait leaned down in front of them and began tugging at their shirt, picking up her pace when Sole didn’t make a move to stop her.

It wasn’t easy, but once their button up was off, she tore it open, and was shocked to see them wearing a binder. “Sole what the hell?” She looked at them, jaw practically on the floor.

Sole didn’t respond for a moment, trying to take in as much oxygen as they could manage. “Hurts.” They gasped.

“No shit it hurts, have you really been wearin’ this thing for the last couple of days? With what we’ve been through? It’s a miracle you’ve not died by now!”

She cut herself short, too concerned to continue chastising them. Cait could yell later. “Can I please cut this off? You’re gonna be feelin’ a lot worse if we leave it on any longer.”

Sole nodded, almost desperately, and shifted to move their arms away from their body. Cait turned and reached for the knife that she always strapped to her belt, quickly flicking the blade out. “Hold still.” Her voice was lower as she leaned over and began sawing at the cloth.

Once it snapped away from Sole’s ribcage, she moved their shirt to cover their chest and watched as they took desperate breaths, the traces of relief evident on their face. “Better?” She asked, hiding the blade and strapping the knife back onto her belt.

“Better.” Sole sighed, though they moved a hand to hold their ribs and flinched.

“You’re gonna need to see a doctor. That breathlessness and those ribs ain’t gonna heal on their own. And you're gonna need t’ take some time off, ya understand?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Cait.”

The weak smile on their face made her almost regret chastising them so harshly, but it was for their own good. Their health was too important. She secured the shirt over them before turning. “I’m goin’ t’ get the doctor. You stay here and rest. Dogmeat, ya hear me? Make sure they don’t get up, damn’t.”

Curie:

“Mx, please. You need to take a break, we should stop moving.” Curie tried desperately to hold them up and stop them from moving forward at the same time.

Determined, they took a few more steps forward before their legs gave out, what oxygen they were drawing in was not enough to give strength to their limbs. She caught them before they could hit the ground and eased them down onto the curb. “There’s a house just behind us. Let’s move there so I can examine you, oui?”

Sole nodded wearily, trying their best to get their legs under them again when Curie hefted them upright. The pair stumbled their way indoors and Curie waved the settlers who were lounging around the living room out. They scattered, but not without a few questions and curious, worried looks for their General. Once Sole was laid down on the couch, Curie kneeled next to them. “I apologize if this makes you uncomfortable, but can I please remove your shirt for a better look?”

A moment of hesitation, Sole’s ragged breath filling the silence. They looked away from Curie, but nodded their consent, obviously wishing to be anywhere but there. Gently, she began unbuttoning their shirt, careful not to brush their skin. Then, she reached for the scissors she kept on her, and began cutting away their binder. She looked away as she pulled it out from under them before draping it over their torso, turning forward to adjust it over their chest in a way that she could still see their ribs. She sucked air through her teeth. “It does not look good, I’m afraid.”

Sole’s breathing eased ever so slightly despite the news. “What’s up?”

“I think you’ve bruised your ribs, Mx. You need to be much more careful with this. Mandatory bed rest, I think.”

They flinched as they inhaled, but sank deeper into the couch on their breath out. “I’m the General, Curie. I can’t afford time off.”

“Then I think we shall call it a lesson in self care. You’re busy.”

Danse:

Danse easily guided Sole through Sanctuary, practically taking all of their weight off their legs. They stumbled through the jagged streets to their house, Danse sweating bullets in his power armor, but he successfully made it to the porch of their house. He positioned the power armor in a way that would support him while he removed himself and promptly exited the blisteringly-hot metal suit as Sole leaned against its outstretched arm.

With a heavy breath he rolled up his sleeves and moved to tuck his forearms under their armpits, heaving them towards the door to their house. They fumbled with the doorknob until they could get the door open, making way for an exhausted duo. “The armchair.” They suggested desperately.

Thanking whatever higher power there may be for the renewed electricity access, Danse lowered them into the armchair and reached over to turn on a nearby desk fan. It wouldn’t instantly cool them down, but it was a start. “We need to call in a medic. Do you have any idea what’s got you so hurt? Did something happen while my back was turned?” He asked.

Sole attempted to regulate their breathing. “I… binder. My binder.”

“You’ve been wearing a binder? This entire time? Do you have any idea what that could’ve done to you?”

They averted their gaze and Danse forced himself to suck in a deep breath. “I understand why, but you have to prioritize your health, Soldier. Taking proper care of yourself is not optional under any circumstances, am I clear?” Sole nodded. “Do you want my help with it or should we wait until I get a doctor here?”

Sole shook their head rapidly. “I don’t want… I trust you. Don’t want the doctor to do it.”

“Take steady breaths as best as you can. I need to remove your shirt, but I’m gonna hand it to you so you can cover yourself while I cut the binder off. Then I’ll get the doctor. Deal?”

Another nod. Danse leaned over and eased their shirt off, cursing internally when they made a pained sound as he shifted their arm. As gently as he could he turned the material and placed it over their chest, helping them slowly move their hand to hold it in place. Then, he reached into his pocket and used his knife to quickly remove the material that restricted them. “We can sew it back together in no time, or get you a new one, okay? But you have to take better care of yourself.”

Sole eased back in the chair once he removed the severed cloth and let out a soft breath. The cold air hitting their skin and the tight garment banished, they found it a little easier to breathe. “I’ll be back with the doc and some water, okay? Sit tight.”

Deacon:

Deacon resorted to humor in times of uncertainty. Sue him, it was a coping mechanism, and a damn good one most of the time. However, with the way Sole was struggling to breathe, their legs weak underneath them, he was losing sight of any joking abilities, and instead had set his jaw firmly as he heaved them through the streets of Sanctuary. It wasn’t easy, but he soon reached the door of a nearby house and pulled them inside unceremoniously.

Thankfully, it seemed everyone was busy with a new construction site in Sanctuary, and the house was empty. As gently as possible, Deacon pulled them further into the house and lowered them until they were resting in a nearby armchair. Their eyes searched their surroundings, for what he didn’t know, as they dragged in ragged gasps of air that seemed to do nothing for them. “Deac, I’m a little lightheaded.” They stated between gasps.

“I know. We’re gonna get you all fixed up in no time, Boss. Just need to figure out what the hell’s going on.”

“Binder.”

“What?”

“My binder, Deac.”

Deacon paused and stared at them, hands hovering over their shirt as he tried to process what they had just said. “You’re...wearing a binder. Through all of that?”

Sole nodded, though they had the decency to look a little ashamed at the way they had risked their health. “Sole…”

He kneeled down in front of them and rubbed his hand across his forehead, trying to gather his thoughts. “Look, I get it. Okay? I’ve been there. I did pretty much the same thing, I won’t lie. But it’s not worth it. You’re gonna get yourself hurt beyond repair, and we need our fearless leader in the best shape possible. You need to take care of yourself, that’s not negotiable. Your body’s carried you through a lot of shit, and it may not look how you want yet, but it’s doing its best and we can only get it to look how you want if you take care of it, okay?”

Sole nodded, gaze directed into their lap. Deacon gripped their hand reassuringly and when they looked up, met them with a lopsided smile. “I’m gonna have to cut it off, but we’ll get you a new one. Plus, I’m sure we can find some tech that makes it even better.”

“You gonna get me one that makes me as badass as you?” They choked out, fighting to match his grin despite their struggle.

Deacon laughed as he unbutton their shirt, trying to keep the mood lighthearted despite the circumstances. “Aww, you flatter, Boss. But I’m sorry, you’ve already surpassed me. Badassness comes from the inside.”

As he sawed away at their binder, shirt hiding most of their skin, they leaned their head back to rest against the back of the chair. “Is badassness a word?”

He paused his movements. “Is it?”

They both pondered for a moment before Deacon returned to his task. Once the binder was cut, he slid it out from under them carefully, and tucked their shirt so it wouldn’t slide off of them. “I’m gonna run and get a medic. You think about the validity of badassness while I’m gone. Try not to miss me too much.”

[yikesharringrove]

hop or max (or both👀) realise how close bill and steve have become and love it because they can just see how happy the boys are

The two boys hadn’t noticed Hop standing there.

They were sitting, pressed hip to hip on the stairs outside the Byers’ when he arrived to pick up El.

They were passing one cigarette back and forth despite the full pack sitting between them, and the outline of a pack he could see in Billy’s breast pocket.

They were talking softly, giggling, touch lingering as they passed the cigarette back and forth.

Billy’s face was soft, was open when he looked at Steve. Hop didn’t know much about the kid, but had heard stories, stories of how rough and tumble he tended to be, how he was hard and mean.

He looked like a damn teddy bear next to Harrington on the steps.

And Jesus, Steve was almost unrecognizable to Hopper.

He had known the kid for a long time, knew his dad all through school, knew Steve when he got old enough to start causin’ trouble.

He had seen Steve looking bored and proper, like he was above everything, like he was too good for Hawkins. He had seen Steve get knocked down a few hundred pegs, had seen him rattling about the town with a nervous twitch in his shoulder, a crazed glint in his eye and a spiked bat in his trunk.

Hell, he’d even seen the kid breakdown, had found him in the woods one night, crashing through with his bat, had started spewing off about how he needed to make sure they were all gone, that everyone’s safe.

(He had cried and shook and slept on Hop’s couch for about a day and a half after that.)

He was used to the spoiled little prince, or the haunted teen with trauma past his years.

He was not used to this carefree boy, this giggly mess sitting next to his friend, sharing a cigarette.

He liked the look on Steve. Liked the line of his shoulders when they weren’t carrying the weight of the world.

-

Max huffed.

She had been woken up by a few thumps in Billy’s room. He had originally figured Neil was in there being awful, but then she heard giggles, unmistakable teenage girl giggles.

That gave way into unmistakable teenage girl moans.

She slammed a pillow over her head, blocking out the high-pitched whimpering. It was the same as the past few nights.

This girl, whoever she was, Billy must like her if she kept sneaking into his bedroom.

Usually, Billy was sneaking out, not letting this girl in.

When the noises had stopped, she took the pillow off her head.

“Sucks that your parent are home. It makes me nervous, you comin’ here. When do they leave again?” She rolled over, didn’t care to hear the chick’s response. She put on her headphones, falling asleep to the Metallica tape still in Billy’s walkman, didn’t hear Steve say, just two more nights, Bill.

-

“You need any help?” Hop was elbows deep in the sink, scrubbing at the dishes from dinner.

Steve was leaning against the counter, rolling up his sleeves. He didn’t wait for an answer, just shoved himself next to Hop and began scrubbing.

“You and Hargrove seem to be close.” He was too focused on rubbing the stains off of Joyce’s dishes to see how Steve’s cheeks went red.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“I think you’re good for each other. You both seem better.”

“‘Do you mean better?” Hop shrugged.

“He doesn’t seem as pissed off. I haven’t given him a speeding ticket in over two weeks for rage driving, and you haven’t seemed so, I don’t know, fucked up.”

Steve had to put the dish down as he laughed, was laughing so fucking hard he had to squat down, try to collect himself. He wiped his eyes when he stood back up.

“He’s secretly a really nice person. Don’t tell him I said that.” Hop winked at him.

-

Max threw Billy a weird look.

She had asked for a ride to Steve’s house, which was met with a I’ll be ready in ten from Billy. Twenty minutes of him getting his hair just so, they set off.

And then Billy got out of the car with her, walked her to Steve’s door.

“Don’t you got a date?” Billy just furrowed his brows at her. She looked pointedly at his clothes, the red shirt he only wore on his dates, almost all the way unbuttoned.

“Nah. Just haven’t done laundry in a while.” He was staring her down.

“Are you and Steve even friends?” But he didn’t answer. The door swung open, revealing Steve dressed casually in a pair of sweats. He smiled at Max, ushering her inside to the kitchen with the rest of the brats as he stepped onto the porch to talk to Billy.

She doubled back.

“You look nice. Got a date?”

“Yeah. Leggy brunet. Totally hot. Has this tight ass, is such a slut.” She cringed at the way her brother was talking about this poor girl. Plus, ehy had he lied to Max, said he didn’t have a date.

“Sounds like a wet fucking dream.” Billy muttered shuddup as Steve laughed.

Steve was making fun of Billy, as wasn’t getting the shit beaten out of him for it.

“Well, come in then. It’s cold.” It really wasn’t but she raced off to join the others in the kitchen, left too soon to see Billy pin Steve against the door, kiss him roughly for a few seconds.

Billy snuck out again, after dropping her off at home.

-

Hop was on quarry duty tonight.

It was Valentine’s Day, which meant most of Hawkins’ young couples would be parked at the quarry or Lovers’ Lake or one of the other lookout make out spots.

Hop was wandering through with a flashlight, knocking on windows with a Hawkins PD, get outta here, you’re trespassing.

He came upon Billy Hargrove’s unmistakable car, the dark blue Camaro parked under a large tree, mostly hidden from the other’s.

He was expecting to knock on the back window, but heard voices coming from the hood.

Billy and Steve were passing what smelled like a joint back and forth, laying back on the windshield looking at the stars.

“Fuck knows I got no other plans for this year. I don’t mind waiting.”

“It’s a whole year, Steve. You’d be stuck here until I graduate.”

“What else am I gonna do?”

“You might still get into Chicago.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Bill.” 

Hopper came stomping up to their line of sight. Steve put out the joint against the side of the car and tossed it into the bushes.

“Subtle.” Billy shrugged at Hop.

“I was expecting to have to pull you off some girl, Hargrove.”

“Hawkins chicks ain’t really my type.” Hop just shook his head.

“Well, you two are still trespassing. Services roads closed at six.” Steve just nodded vigorously as he slid off the car.

“We’ll scurry right off, Hop. Sorry.”

“And if you two are gonna smoke, please do it in a house, or somewhere I can’t smell it.”

The two slammed themselves in the car, Hop could hear them laugh as the car roared to life.

-

Max was digging through the backseat of Billy’s car, trying to find her skateboard.

He had hidden it from her, like a fucking child, so she snagged his keys when he was too busy being a meathead, working out in the living room.

It was as gross as she was expecting. Billy like to keep his car very clean, especially compared to his pigsty of a bedroom.

She picked up an old worn sweatshirt, found a plain shoebox underneath.

She didn’t want to snoop, but she was curious.

There were a few pictures of Billy’s mom right on top. She only recognized her from the necklace around her neck, the one Billy now refused to take off.

There were some movie ticket stubs, a big wad off cash she made a mental note of, a slip of paper she recognized from a fortune cookie from the place Billy would take her on Thursdays after school in California to get their two for one entree special. He had some jewelry in there, probably more of his mom’s, and a gaudy valentine covered in glitter.

She closed the box, didn’t care to dig further than the valentine, didn’t see Steve’s neat handwriting inside of it, the pictures Billy hoarded underneath it, pictures of Steve, pictures of him and Steve, even a few saucy ones of Steve.

Instead she turned her attention to the hoodie, to the faded Hawkins High Swim Team on the front.

She gave it back to Steve next time she saw him.

“Found it in my brother’s car.”

It would be back in a few weeks, anyway.

-

Hop opened the door to the cabin when Steve rapt on it.

He was toting a bunch of board games, was there to watch El for the night.

Hop raised his eyebrows when Steve set them down, revealing the faded Judas Priest shirt. He knew Steve liked shitty pop, wouldn’t be caught dead listening to hard rock.

“Nice shirt.” Steve looked down at himself, going red.

“Oh shit, Bill slept over last night, he must’ve left it.”

And then Hop noticed the bruises. The dark hickies on his neck, just under the stolen shirt.

Hop’s pretty sure he would’ve never heard the end of it if Steve had a girlfriend, pretty sure the kid’s would’ve lost their shit over it.

So Steve maybe was dating in secret, dating a boy in secret, a boy he spent Valentine’s Day with, a boy he giggled with and shared cigarettes with, a boy who’s shirts he stole and forgot he was wearing them.

But Steve was soft when he sat down next to El, smiled at her nicely and asked about the book she was reading.

So Hop shrugged, and went to his late shift.

-

“You wanna go to the mall?” Billy was standing weirdly in her doorway, trying to make himself look like he belonged there. “Could call up that chick friend of yours.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“What’s the catch.”

“No catch. Just needed to get something from the mall. Thought you’d wanna go.” He had been acting really off lately.

He’d been talking to her how they used to, before Neil doubled down and moved them halfway across the country. He had even made a joke the other day, one that wasn’t a mean comment masquerading as a joke.

“Lemme call El. Maybe Hop would drop her off.” She was even more suspicious as he smiled at her, went to back to his room. She talked to El for a moment, who said Hop would drop her off in ten minutes.

She poked her head in Billy’s room, saw him looking in the mirror, primping himself.

“Does your girlfriend work at the mall?” He gave her a withering stare.

“Don’t have a girlfriend.” She grinned.

“You so do. You know, I heard her sneaking in here a few months ago. I know that you sneak out to go and see her.” Billy flushed. “And it’s always the same voice, so don’t lie and say it’s different girls you perv.”

“Shut up, Maxine.”

“Make me, William.” He stamped his foot like a little kid.

“That’s it! No more mall for you today. I’m just gonna go by myself.” She blocked him in the doorway.

“Just tell me her name.” He shook his head.

“Fine. Tell me where she works and El and I will leave you two alone.” He shifted his jaw around.

“She works at Scoops Ahoy?”

“Isn’t that where Steve works?”

“He introduced us.”

But, But that didn’t add up. Billy had been seeing this girl long before Steve started working there. Maybe they knew each other before? No, Steve famously didn’t have any friends besides the party when Billy started sneaking around with that gir-

And then it hit her.

The fucking sweatshirt.

The Hawkins High Swim Team sweatshirt.

Leggy brunet. Totally hot. Has this tight ass, is such a slut.

She almost threw up.

Steve was her brother’s secret girlfriend. How did she not fucking see this.

“Cool. We’ll let you two be gross or whatever.”

He gave her a tiny smile. She was trying her best not to scream.

Hopper dropped El off and Billy drove them to the mall, let Max pick the music and at one point, had even hummed along to the Hall & Oates song. Fucking Rich Girl.

She pulled El along to The Gap when they hit the mall, Billy making a beeline for Scoops.

“We’re gonna spy on Billy.” El just smiled slyly and nodded vigorously.

They crouched behind plants out in front of Scoops, could just hear Billy talking to Steve’s coworker.

“Dingus, your homoerotic rival turned lover is here.” Steve’s shoes squeaked as he launched himself from the back room. Max’s hands were clammy. She was right.

“Don’t be so loud, Rob.”

“There’s no one here.” Max heard a sound like something being hit dully. Steve yelped. Billy just slapped his ass. “But, you are not allowed to leave me for more than your fifteen. Not like last week. The rush came and I was alone for an hour, Steve. An hour.”

“O-kay, Rob. We’ll be quick.”

“And disinfect any surface you two fuck on. I refuse to touch that.” Billy roared with laughter as Steve squawked indignantly. Max peeked up to watch Steve drag Billy into the backroom. Billy grinned at Robin, a really nice, happy smile before turning to Steve.

[justoneday-namjoonii]

forgive me

anon request: “I really love the way you write angsty stuff so if u want, can u write a scene where jungkook is like involved in illegal stuff like drugs or maybe he's a hitman, Y/N and Jungkook have a conflict about that because she's not happy with what he does, he gets hurt a lot but he enjoys his job and doesn't wanna give it up cuz he loves the thrill. It can be an emotional scene where Y/N tells him that she's afraid of losing him because of what he does. Honestly come up with anything, I don't mind 😂”

prompt: Jungkook is a druglord, you’re a waitress at a shabby burger place. He loves what he does and even though you try to ignore it, it scares you. You fear you’ll lose him if he doesn’t quit and he’s all you have. Your so called family are full of lies and if it wasn’t for Jungkook, you don’t know where you’d be. You wonder every night if the sirens you hear are for him—you pray it’s not for him. Secretly, he feels the same about you.

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: angst, drabble, mental health issues, mentions of murder, mature subject matter

author’s note: For the anon who requested this, this is for you! I hope you enjoy~ did i watch Truth be Told and decide to make the OC a twin? yes, yes i did

When you opened your eyes, you started to feel around for your cellphone. When you couldn't feel for it, you rolled over and yawned, it's probably under the bed. That's where its gonna stay too. As soon as you got home from work, you fell face-first into your bed and taking a shower was the last thing on your mind. But now you're feeling the stale department store smell on your clothes. It takes about two minutes for you to roll out of bed and realize you that Jungkook should have been here by now. You grab your phone and see two missed calls and a text from 2 hours ago.

jungkook💖💫: im sorry ill be over a little later baby, something came up 

jungkook💖💫: i miss you angel

You smile, he always misses you. And you miss him too, but you know he's probably out there in the slums of the city, doing what he does. How you lucked out with him, you have no idea. One night you were trying to call an Uber to get home from a birthday party at the club. It was around midnight and you had to work so you couldn't hang with the hardcore crowd. You went outside to call for a ride but you were being watched. Some guy kept catcalling, just outright harassing you. It was the scariest night of your life. You were telling him to leave you alone but he was drunk or high, either way, he wasn't all there. He snatched your phone. Just when you thought he was going to grab you, a black sports car, one you would have had to work two lifetimes to afford, stopped at the light. And before you know it, the man trying to get you is being dragged into the alley where he probably would have taken you. You remember being frozen, all you could hear was cursing and blunt force. The mystery man, whose car is still in the middle of the road, emerges from the dark corner between the buildings.

You were completely taken. The smile, the hair, the tattoos, and dangling earrings, paired with a striking gaze—he was an angel. He was so beautiful and he was just looking at you stand there with your mouth open.

"If there's one thing I hate, oh here you go," He hands you your phone and you get a nice look at his hand tattoo, "it's motherfuckers who can't leave women the fuck alone. Sorry you had to deal with that, but he won't be bothering you or anyone else after tonight, or use his hands again," He sighs, fixing his clothes a bit and wiping the blood from the corner of his lip, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, thank you," You slip the phone in your bomber jacket pockets, "not a lot of people would stop a stupid guy from bothering a girl they don't even know."

"Yeah, I'm Jungkook by the way," He introduces himself with a smile, situating his nice clothes, "do you- Um, did you need a ride? I'm not a creep I swear," He holds his hands up in surrender when you furrow your brows at the suggesting—great, now she thinks I'm a pervert. 

"I didn't stop that guy as blackmail to get laid, I just-" He pauses to grapple for the right words, "I saw you just standing on the curb and I know it's not safe out here-"

"If it's not any trouble," You interrupt his rambling, "I live about 15 minutes away, I was gonna call a ride but if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it. My name is Y/n, by the way."

That night changed your life forever. It was the first time you had wanted to kiss a stranger, the first night you ever came close to a soulmate. He confesses to having seen you in the club, he was at the bar, refusing offers from every girl from the bartenders to cougars out on the town, at least that's what you always thought. In that little fifteen minutes, you got to know very little about him but you felt so comfortable sharing things about yourself when he asked. He dropped you off and said if you ever needed anything, to give him a call. 

You never got to use the number because you ended up seeing him again. He showed up to your job, but he wasn't there for you, he was there for one of your money laundering and pill-popping associates. You were taking a break and for some reason, the break room was eerily empty. After you heard gunshots and the whole store went into chaos. You remember trying to leave and suddenly being swept away and into an outside electrical room apart of the building. You calmed down enough to realize that it was him but you were baffled.

"What're the odds that you would work at the same place as that bastard," He fiddles with the gun, tucking it to his side and flipping on the safety and pulling off his mask with a toothy grin, "do you remember me?"

"You?... Jungkook, how did you- Why are you-..." You make a small step back and swallow, scrambling to think of something to say. "Have you been following me like some creep?!"

"No! this is just a run-in by fate, I swear I didn't plan it. I'm not even supposed to still be here but I couldn't just leave, not without saying something to you."

"Okay...What do you want to say? I have to get back on the clock." You look him up and down, his all-black clothes and heavy boots intimidating but alluring in many ways.

"Wanna grab a coffee?"

For some reason, you said yes to the familiar stranger.

"Sure- I mean no! No, I can't Jungkook, I have to get back to work-"

"Trust me, just come with me," He extends his hand for you to take and smiles, "you won't regret it."

You took his hand and never looked back.

* * *

Nights like this.

When it's too early to ruin his life and too late to pretend like he wouldn't care. So when he shows up to the lounge to enforce an unpaid debt from a client, he leaves with bruised knuckles, two grand, and a rush of adrenaline. He went a little hard on the guy, but can you blame him? He messed up his plans. Tonight is date night, also known as 'crash at your place' night. It worked out though, you had to work late so he wouldn't be too tardy. Judging by the fact that you haven't answered your phone, you must be knocked out.

He slips his hand into his pocket and fumbles with his keys until he finds the one to your apartment. When he walks inside he hears the sink on and smiles to himself, you must've just woken up. 

"Baby, it's me," He announces himself, "how was your day?"

"Fine," You step out in your work clothes, still trying to get your earrings out, "as fine as a day working for the devil could be." 

"That bad?" You take note of the silk black shirt that's rolled up to his elbows, letting you see his beautiful sleeve of tattoos. When he comes dressed like this, and smelling like smoke you know he's been out into high-end clubs. The way some of the women look at him makes you feel small and a little self-conscious. But he always reassures you that you're who he wants, not some woman who sees him as an experimental one-night stand. When he tells you to meet him in the restroom because he needs to tell you something, you're reminded that you're all he wants.

"She screwed the schedule. My only day off was taken because her favorite, Kasey, has to go out of town."

He unbuttons the buttons on his shirt with deliberate fingers. "You walked out on a job for me before, remember that?" He smiles, letting his shirt fall from his shoulders like a dream. A bruise on his upper arm catches your attention but you don't say anything. "If you're not happy, just leave. I can take care of you, you can be my sugar baby."

"Yeah, my step-mom would love that, I could see it now," You cringe at the thought, "Hey, just a heads up, I'm not working or married but I have a sugar daddy who pays all my bills and lets me use his money for free, oh, he's also a drug lord. She'd really think highly of me then." 

"Fuck Carol, she's a judgmental priss anyway," He comes up to you, hands finding your waist, "why do you care what she thinks about you?" 

"I don't care what she thinks, but if she finds out she'll tell my dad and I don't want to hear it from him. If he pretends to not be disappointed by the lesser-twin one more time, I'll actually cuss him out...He's such a liar, he lied to my mom and he lies to me.”

"Quit saying that," Jungkook grabs you under your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so he can sit on the edge of your bed, "you're not the lesser-twin, you're the cute and sexy twin." You sit back on his thighs and you both laugh at his attempt to lighten your mood.

"Well, I'm not a successful surgeon and I'm broke as hell, but at least my boyfriend thinks I'm cute." His hands find their way to the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, revealing a disappointing tank top.

"See, this is disappointing. Why are you wearing a tank top? It's a hundred degrees outside." He sighs, looking up at you like a pouting little kid.

"Because I want to," You grin, brushing his hair from his brows, revealing a scratch, "you're cut."

"Yeah, had a run-in with an old friend, we're obviously not friends anymore."

"You should take me with you on these deals and stuff, I'd make a great bodyguard for you," You joke, "if you showed me how to use a gun."

"You?" He giggles at the image of you secretly acting as a bodyguard, a dagger, and a gun in a garter under a skintight dress. "That's not a bad idea, they'd be too distracted looking at how fucking beautiful you are to see you as a threat."

"Yeah, I always saw as the Bonnie & Clyde type of couple," He leans up to kiss you and you smile through it before he pulls away, "eh, you need to shower, you smell like weed."

He furrows his brows, a snarky smile on his mouth. "And you smell like French fries, but I still kissed you.”

"Touche." You can't argue with that, the French fries smell gets to you too.

He picks you up, carrying you to the bathroom with a beaming smile.

"Let's shower then."

 * * *

A deal went bad, he got grazed by a bullet and spent a few hours at the emergency room.

When he pulled in to the driveway and saw your car, he sighed in relief—he was hoping you'd come. After work, you had come by earlier to clear your head and take a breather from your cramped apartment and rowdy neighbors. Ever since his 'new position' he was put up in this huge mansion, equipped with a full staff. Luckily, they were off tonight so no need to keep quiet.

It's getting late and you've been trying to watch a baking show to stay awake but it was getting difficult. He hadn't called or answered any of your calls or texts. When you hear the garage door open, your heavy lids lift and you yawn, trying to wake up so you can tell him how your day has been.

He opens the door with a deep sigh and he's glad you can't see the thick white bandage on his upper arm and tired shadows under his eyes because of the dim lights. "Jungkook, it's so late..." You mumble, sitting up. "what took you so long?"

"Yeah, baby, I just had a mix up with someone who owed the group a lot of money, they, uh- They opened fire and we had a lot to clean up." He offhandedly mentions that and goes to the bathroom to change and you just wait for him.

The painkiller is wearing off but he manages to brush his teeth and slip into some sweats and a t-shirt. After flicking the light switch off, he falls into bed with a heavy exhale. Glad to finally have him close so you can tell him about your terrible day, you turn to hug him, and instantly a wince of pain leaves his mouth. 

"Sorry," You giggled, thinking he was just kidding until you see the bandage on his arm, "Oh my gosh," You sit up, hand reaching for his bandage with concern in your brows, "what happened?"

"It's nothing baby, I was grazed by a bullet and had to go to the ER," He spares you a weak grin, hand rustling through his damp locks, "but it's nothing, I feel fine."

It's always nothing to him. You lean down and place a gentle kiss on his forehead, one he would normally place on you. Nights go by and you know he's out there risking his life, not thinking how devastated you would be if one night he doesn't come back.  

He caresses the apple of your cheek, lips parting when sits up to try to kiss you, but you pull away.

"Hey, I've had a long day I just want to kiss you," He sits up now, "talk to me." 

"Talk to yourself, I'm going to sleep."

"Where the fuck is this coming from?" He glares at you, tone firmer than before. "Y/n, cut the crap. What's the problem?"

"Jungkook, there's no problem I just worry about you."

"I don't mean to make you worry," He speaks softly, "but you know this is what I do, I can't stop now, even if I wanted to."

"I know," Sadly, "but you're all I have."

He tilts his head, a bit confused. "What happened?"

"My sister called when I got off of work. My dad isn't doing well, his liver is in terrible condition and he needs a transplant...He's on a wait-list now." 

Knowing the severed relationship you have with your family, he treads lightly when requesting this. "Do you want to go see him?-"

"No!" You snap. "Why would I want to see him? This is what he gets for killing my mother."

"Y/n, you don't mean that..." Jungkook gets uncomfortable when you enter that head-space, you become ruthless in your words and your eyes glaze over with something he has yet to understand.

"Why not? It's true. He was cheating on her, that's why he never came home and she thought something was wrong. So drove out in the middle of the night during a storm and ended up crashing into a tree, because of him. My sister has always defended him, but I think it's because she didn't like mom either...The two of them may have cried at the funeral but I know them, they were glad she left us. That's why I need you, Jungkook, I don't have them or want them..."

"Y/n, you have to learn to forgive them for whatever you think they did, it's going to drive you insane if you don't...Fuck them, spend your energy on us, okay?"

"I'm already insane, I'm with you, aren't I? You come close to being killed every week, and it bothers me to think you might not come home...But I'll go through that if it means I get to have you, I love you, I only love you..." You lay your head on his shoulder.

He’s your angel.

You aren’t sure what you are to him.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Hello darling! Currently obsessed with your writing! Srsly best seller list is shaking. Could I possibly request a peter Parker x reader where she falls asleep on peter while he’s doing homework at his desk and may walks in and it’s just cute and fluffy? Idk run with it. Thank you for existing!!💕

thank you!!

A Soft Place to Land

Pairing: Best Friend Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Aunt May finds you and Peter in a compromising position

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

“PP.” You cut off your own sentence with a yawn. “Do you have your physics notebook?”

Peter swiveled in his chair and looked at you. You were sprawled out on his bed, lying on your tummy with your laptop in front of you, eyes dropping from exhaustion. Peters own textbooks and papers were strewn across the bed, bordering your body like an outline of chalk. Peter couldn’t help but smile at the sight, knowing his sheets would smell your perfume once you went home.

“I do.” Peter confirmed. “Do you need it?”

“Would you mind if I copied your notes? Mr. Brighton writes too fast and I missed the section on force.” You said slowly, signaling to Peter that you were beyond tired.

“No problem.” Peter smiled kindly and tossed his notebook at you. You failed to catch it and were hit in the face at full speed, letting out a surprised “oof.” Peter winced at his mistake.

“Oops.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You laughed tiredly. “Woke me up a little.” You yawned again, this time turning away and disguising it into your shoulder so Peter wouldn’t see.

“Y/n, you should take a nap.” Peter suggested out of concern for you and your wellbeing, the only thing he was ever really concerned with. “I’ll move my stuff to the desk. You can sleep in my bed.”

Peters choice of words sent him back to another moment in time.

Peter saw you through you window and collapsed onto your fire escape. You were working diligently at your desk, and Peter hated the idea of taking you away from your work, but he needed you. Only you. Too weak to raise his arm, he hit his forehead against your window until it caught your attention.

“PP?” You asked in a hushed voice as you rushed to your window and opened it as quickly as you could. “How did you get up here? Did you climb the fire escape?”

“Not exactly.” Peter said with a pained smile as you helped him inside.

“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” You asked, sounding like a parent as you sat Peter down on your bed. Peter gingerly sat down, wincing with every movement. He felt your heart rate pick up and he berated himself for worrying you.

“I climbed next to the fire escape.” Peter said sluggishly.

“On the wall?” You laughed, not believing him. You finally noticed how badly he was beaten. In the soft glow of your desk lamp, you could see bruises on Peters knuckles and under his eyes. He was sweaty and dirty, and definitely did not come from decathlon practice like he said he did. “What happened?” You asked calmly.

“I found the guy who killed Uncle Ben.” Peter have you a half hearted smile. It’d been three months since Peters uncle was shot right in front of him. Peter didn’t speak about it. He didn’t mention his name, or what happened. His casual drop of his deceased uncles name made You filly realize the extent of the situation. Peter was hurt, badly, and he had come to you. This wasn’t the time for questions. This was the time to help Peter.

“Okay.” You said calmly, looking into Peters tired eyes and giving him a comforting look. You sat down on the bed and placed a hand in his knee. “You found the guy who killed uncle Ben.” You repeated, so he knew you heard him.

“But he also found me.” Peter mumbled before collapsing forward into your arms. He was in and out of consciousness as you caught him and gently laid him on your bed, resting him against the headboard.

“Stay there.” You commanded, though he physically couldn’t disobey you. He couldn’t move. He let his aching body rest against your soft sheets, knowing they’d smell like his cologne when he went home. Peter opened one eye, the eye that wasn’t swollen shut, and watched you. You were in sleep shorts and an oversized decathlon t-shirt, looking as beautiful as ever. You paced back and forth around, collecting various things to patch Peter up. Your makeup free face was full of concern, which made Peters heart ache. Coincidentally, it was the only part of him not currently aching. He didn’t want you to worry. It wasn’t your responsibility. But he had no where else to go.

“Okay.” You said with medical supplies stacked up to your chin. “This is all I got.”

Peter wanted to tell you that it was more than enough, but he only had the strength for a weak, “Thank you.”

“Shh. Don’t waste your energy.” You hushed up as you propped him up against your headboard again, since he had begun to slouch. He wanted to take some of the work off of you, but could only be moved around like a rag doll. He gave you a grateful smile. In your eyes, it was enough.

“I’m gonna have to…um.” Your eyes darted down to his chest. He was wearing a huge, old fashioned looking brown jacket over some light blue sweat pants and red water shoes. Had he been in better condition, you would’ve questioned his outfit. Peter looked into your eyes and gave you a tired nod. You didn’t recognize the look in his eyes. He looked almost fearful, and a little hesitant. You unbuttoned his large jacket and slid it off his shoulders. You folded it neatly, noticing the initials “BFP” on the tag. So it was Bens, you thought. He was running around the city, in the dead of night, getting beat up in Bens jacket. You gave Peter a sorrowful look before your eyes trailed down to what was under the jacket. He wore a red hoodie with a spider drawn on it in sharpie. The sleeves were cut out and blue sleeves to match his sweatpants were poorly sewn in.

“Y/n-“ Peter croaked.

“I understand.” You cut him off. You looked him in the eyes and gave him a gentle smile. Your eyes told him that you were telling the truth. “You don’t have to explain anything to me until you’re ready. All that matters to me is getting you patched up, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter said weakly, wishing he could say more. He had so much he wanted to tell you. So much.

“I’m gonna have to unzip it now.” You warned him. “Is that okay?”

Peter gave you another nod. Not wanting to make the situation anymore awkward, you quickly unzipped the hoodie and slid it off his shoulders. Peters normally scrawny body was replaced with a six pack of abs. You gulped and felt your face heat up, hoping he couldn’t tell.

He could.

A deep gash, likely from a knife, was in his lower abdomen. He had other miscellaneous cuts and bruises covering his body. He was in bad shape, worse than you thought, but nothing you couldn’t fix. Your eyes slowly trailed up his body and met his eyes. Peter was staring at you, desperate to read your reaction.

“Are you scared?” He whispered. You laughed lightly and shook your head.

“Of you, PP? You wish.” You teased. You dampened a Cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide and gently dabbed it on the gash. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, and almost looked like it was healing in its own. You then applied some Neosporin and one by one, adhered a pink Hello Kitty band aid to the cut until it was covered. Peter noticed your choice of band aids and laughed, sending an ache through his chest.

“Cute.” He smiled.

“I couldn’t find the dinosaur ones.” You genuinely apologized, making Peters heart grow fonder for you.

“It’s okay.” Peter said, using all that was left if his strength to brush stray hair away from your face. You looked at him as he did it, and leaned into his hand. Peter smiled, grateful that through it all, he was still PP to you, the dumb nickname you gave him when you were kids when you couldn’t pronounce “Peter.”

“Should I be worried about you?” You whispered, your fingertips brushing his hand before closing you hand around his wrist, keeping his palm on your cheek.

“If I say no, will you be worried anyway?” Peter asked, feeling a little strength return.

“I’ll always worry about you, PP.” You said sincerely.

“I promise, I’ll explain it all one day.” Peter swore. You seemed content with his answer.

“Whenever you’re ready.” You told him as you tilted his chin towards your face. Peter froze, thinking you were going to kiss him. Instead, you pulled out a Cotten swab and gently dabbed it on the cut on Peters lip. A plus side to his powers, hydrogen peroxide didn’t sting anymore. After cleaning the cut, you leaned in to blow on it. Your puckered lips were almost touching Peters. Peter gulped and did his best to keep his pulse from getting to crazy. You then dabbed some Neosporin on his lip and got to work on the rest of his cuts.

Peter fell asleep in the middle of you playing nurse. When he woke up, he was in your biggest shirt, and a loose pair of sweatpants he’d seen your brother wearing before. He was fully under your covers now, and resting comfortably against your pillow. He slowly opened his eyes and saw you sitting at your desk.

“Y/n?” He called out, making you turn around.

“Yes, PP?” You said.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Peter admitted. His mouth moved faster than his brain. He didn’t think it through. He just told you.

“No.” You said sarcastically, and shot him a smile. Peter felt relived at your reaction.

“I feel better now. I can head home.” He groaned, and painfully tried to sit up. You rushed to his side and tried to get him to lie down again.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You laughed at his absurdity. “I texted May from your phone and said you were sleeping at Ned’s.”

“But I’m not.” Peter pointed out.

“I know.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re sleeping here.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to do that. That’s too much to ask.” Peter protested your hospitality.

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you.” You assured Peter. “And of course I do. You’re my best friend. And May can’t see you like this. You’re gonna stay here tonight.” You told him, absentmindedly tucking him in. Peter laughed at you slipping into motherly behavior. “You can sleep in my bed.”

“I can’t.” You said, breaking Peter away from the memory. “I have to finish this essay.”

“What you have to do is get some sleep.” Peter insisted, throwing a paper ball at you when he noticed you beginning to doze off. “How many hours did you get last night?”

“Dunno.” You said sleepily, resting your tired head on your hand. “One-teen.”

“One-teen?” Peter asked in concern.

“Mhm.” You nodded, head drooping further and further down until your arm slipped out from under you and you face planted into your textbook. “Maybe it was twelve-ty.”

“Y/n, you’re making me worried.” Peter chewed his bottom lip.

“The static on the TV makes you worried.” You pointed out.

“Because it makes a scary sound.” Peter defended. “Don’t change the subject. You need to get some sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak.” You yawned.

“That can’t be true, because you’re the strongest person I know.” Peter quipped.

“Even stronger than that guy you fought who was made of sand?” You asked with hooded eyes.

“Yes, because he was made of sand.” Peter deadpanned.

“Mmm.” You laughed sleepily. “Sand. Yummy.”

“Okay, now I know you’re exhausted if you think sand is yummy.” Peter said, amazed that you were still in denial.

“What did you say, honey?” You murmured.

“No, not honey.” Peter laughed, cheeks hearing up at the accidental pet name. “I said yummy.”

“What’s funny?” You asked, now purposely misunderstanding him.

“Oh my goodness.” Peter laughed again. “Have you slept at all this week?”

“I have no time.” You sighed, eyes reluctantly going back to your essay.

“I can finish this essay for you.” Peter offered.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” You informed him.

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you.” Peter repeated your words from that night, wondering if you recalled that memory too.

“No, PP. You have your own work you need to do.” You insisted.

“My stuff isn’t due until next week.” Peter reminded you. “You always take care of me. Let me take care of you. Just this once.”

You seemed to consider his offer. “I won’t let you do my actual essay, because that’s cheating, but I’ll allow you to help me.”

“Fine by me.” Peter shrugged.

“Okay.” You gave in and went over to where he was sitting at his desk. “Scoot.”

Peter moved over in his swivel chair and let you share the seat with him. You rested your back against the arm rest and laid your legs on top of his before handing him your laptop. “I have my thesis statement and everything else, but I have no idea if it’s even coherent. It feels a little messy.”

“Here’s what I do.” Peter began to explain how he structured his essays. About halfway though his explanation, he felt pressure on his shoulder. You had rested your head there and were listening to him with a content smile.

“Keep going. I’m listening.” You assured him, letting out another yawn after. Peter kept going and soon picked up on your breathing slowing down. You stretched a little, your nose brushing his jawline and ended up even deeper in the crook of his neck. You began to lazily play with the buttons on his button down.

“Alright.” Peter said softly, not trusting his voice to be steady. “Then, I draw back to my thesis and make a connection. It should be a very obvious connection so that the person reading it-“ Peter stopped when he heard the soft whistle of your breath. He carefully adjusted himself and wrapped an arm around you, just so his arm wouldn’t fall asleep, or at least that’s what he told himself. He also didn’t want you to slip and fall off the chair. You ended up snuggling deeper into his side and throwing an arm around his waist. Peter smiled to himself and pulled your laptop in front of him. He revised your work and nodded in approval. You didn’t have much left, just needing proofreading. Peter took his time reading your essay, editing what needed to be fixed and making some corrections. He finished in about half an hour and emailed it to your teacher. He then picked up your planner and looked at what else you needed to get done. In your signature handwriting, was the following:

Write essay Copy(steal) PP’s physics notes Find quote for English project

Peter checked the time, and then your sleeping face. It was 11 now, and your curfew was 12. He could copy his notes into your notebook and find a quote in under an hour. He’d be damned if he couldn’t. And so, Peter took out your black marble notebook with the little Spider-Man stickers and began to copy his notes down. As he worked with his right hand, his left hand rubbed soothing circles onto your back. You let out soft noises in your sleep, that Peter found it hard not to fawn over. He got halfway through copying when he door opened.

“Are you guys-,” May said at full volume until Peter held a finger to his lips. A pretty harsh finger, one might add. May grimaced and nodded. “Are you guys alright? Need anything from me?” She said in a softer tone.

“We’re okay.” Peter whispered back. “I gotta get her home soon.”

“How long has she been out?” May asked.

“About an hour.” Peter replied.

“And how much sleep had she been getting?” May sighed, knowing you and your habits.

“None.” Peter sighed as well. “I don’t want to wake her so I’ll probably swing her back home, if that’s alright.”

“But that means you’ll have to swing back alone.” May reminded him. “I thought you hated swinging that late?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s okay. I’d rather get her home safely. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re a good boyfriend.” May smirked, already anticipated her nephews reaction. “Holding her while she sleeps and helping her with her work.”

“I’m not her boyfriend.” Peter said quickly, and a little too loudly, causing you to stir in your sleep and hug Peter a little tighter. “I’m her best friend, who’s a boy. Not her boyfriend. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” May squinted her eyes.

“Yes.” Peter stated. “She doesn’t think of me like that.”

“But you think of her like that.” May said, as more of a statement than a question.

“Yes.” Peter nodded, then shut his eyes tightly. “I mean, no. No. She’s my friend.”

“Right. Of course.” May said sweetly. “Girlfriend.” She added under her breath.

“What was that?” Peter snapped.

“Peter, this is nothing to be ashamed of. You’re growing. Your body is flourishing now. It’s okay if your Peter tingle tingles just for her.” May teased.

“Please stop saying “tingle” May.” Peter groaned.

“All I’m saying is, I fell in love with my best friend too once.” May held up her hands in defense.

“Oh yeah?” Peter said sarcastically. “Then what happened?”

“Then I became Mrs. Parker.” May smiled.

Peter fell silent, focusing only on your breathing as he absentmindedly twirled your hair around his finger.

“May?” He said softly.

“Yes, Peter?” May answered.

“What do I do if she doesn’t feel the same?” Peter wondered out loud. It was his biggest fear. Him, finding the courage to tell you how he feels, and you rejecting him. Saying something like “aw, PP, you know I love you but-“ and then some recycled rejection that would utterly devastate Peter as he nodded along with a smile. He couldn’t bear the thought.

“Do you know how she feels?” May asked, knowing a little more than Peter. She had an outsider perspective on your relationship. She saw all the stolen glances and lingering looks that you two didn’t catch.

“Yes.” Peter huffed. May tilted her head to the side.

“Did you ask?” She continued.

“No.” Peter said sheepishly, knowing the point his aunt was trying to make.

“Then you don’t know.” May told him.

“We’ve been best friends for years. She would’ve said something by now if she felt that way about me.” Peter defended.

“Have you said something?” May folded her arms.

“No.” Peter said harshly, before realizing what May was trying to say.

“Then why would you expect her to?” May delivered the final blow. Peter knew he had lost the argument.

“I don’t like it when you get all omnipotent on me.” Peter grumbled. He looked at your sleeping face and sighed. He wanted to tell you. He did. And he wanted more times like this. He’d hold you every night if he could.

“That’s what aunts are for.” May smiled in triumph. Peter was quiet again.

“May?” He said finally.

“Yes, Peter?” She asked, having a feeling where he was going with it.

“I feel that way.” He admitted, without taking his eyes off your notes. “About her.”

“I know you do, Peter.” May nodded in understanding. She could tell her nephew had feelings for you long before he knew it himself.

“What do I do?” Peter asked, looking up sadly at May.

“Talk to her. You’ll know where to go from there.” May advised.

“And if I don’t?” Peter asked.

“She’ll know.” May said with an all knowing smile. She blew Peter a goodnight kiss and shut the door quietly. You stirred at the sound and slowly took your head off Peters shoulder. He went back to his work and pretended he never stopped it as you stretched.

“What time is it, PP?” You asked through a yawn.

“Quarter after 11.” Peter answered you, speaking in a low tone so you didn’t get startled.

“I gotta get home soon.” You sighed and adjusted your position, never taking your legs off his lap. You stretched towards the sky, but wrapped your seams around Peters neck this time when you finished. He felt his ears burn at your half asleep action. You were always clingy when you were tired, and right now, you were exhausted.

“I’ll swing you back.” Peter offered, pretending to be fully invested on your notes and not on the way your breath tickled his neck.

“You don’t have to.” You told him as you rubbed your eyes.

“And let you walk home in the dark all alone? I don’t think so.” Peter sounded almost insulted, but still had his signature playful tone.

You laughed lightly and rested your head back on Peters shoulder. He didn’t complain. He’d been missing the warmth you created.

“May was right.” You said quietly through a sleepy smile. Peter was a good boyfriend, you thought.

“What was that?” Peter asked. He had heard, but didn’t know what you meant.

“Nothing. Just a dream I had.” You shrugged and sighed in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Oh.” Peter said, not sure what else to say.

“Do you ever have those dreams that make you wake up with crushes on people you didn’t think you’d have a crush on?” You asked him, feeling a little more awake. The nap had helped, though you’d never admit it to Peter.

“Yeah, I do. Is that what you had? Do you have a crush on a boy at school?” Peter asked, jealously seeping into him like water through a crack in a boat.

“Kind of.” You nodded. “I had a dream a boy confessed his feelings for me, but not to me.”

“Oh.” Peter said simply. “How do you feel now?”

“Disappointed.” You laughed sadly.

“You’re disappointed that the boy likes you?” Peter said, barely covering up the sadness in his voice. He knew he was the boy. You must’ve heard the conversation with May in your sleep and thought you dreamed it.

“No.” You shook your head with a sleepy smile. “I’m disappointed that it was only a dream.”

Peter as quiet for awhile, thinking about what May had told him. “Y/n, I have to tell you something.” Peter looked you in your tired eyes. He nervously drummed his fingers on your leg.

“I wasn’t dreaming, PP, was I?” You realized suddenly. You looked to Peter for answers, who had that same look in his eyes as he did that night. Fearful, and a little hesitant.

“I like you, okay?” Peter admitted, knowing he was backed into a corner. “I like you and I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Because I’m supposed to be your best friend. I’m meant to be a soft place for you to land. I’m not supposed to be complicating your life and adding to your stress by developing feelings for you.” Peter said softly.

“This doesn’t complicate my life.” You said pointedly as you put your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you. “This only makes it better.”

“You like me?” Peter asked, wondering now if he was the one dreaming. “You like me, like me?”

“I do.” You smiled, your gaze dropping to his lips quickly before coming back up to meet his eyes. “Are you gonna make my dream come true, PP?”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer