#the curl falling over his forehead continues to torture me

[peachdues]

Levi Ackerman can and will blow your back out, but he’s also the type to lean in and press his lips hard against your forehead when you’re in the middle cumming so prettily for him.

He has your legs bent and nearly pinned to your ribs beneath the solid mass of his body. His arms are braced on either side of your head, one hand loosely fisted into your hair to make sure you keep your eyes on him and him alone. Every bit of his weight bears down into you, and it strikes you that between the fullness you feel from his cock and the pressure of his body against yours means there is no part of you that isn’t being thoroughly and completely consumed by him.

He curls one arm over your head, caging you in against the pillow while the other shoves between your sweat-slickened bodies. You think he means to play with your clit, but instead his hand presses firmly against your lower stomach as he continues hammering into you, allowing the blunt head of his cock to push repeatedly against that spot deep within that makes your vision turn white and your toes curl.

“There you are — oh,” he smirks at how you begin trembling beneath him, and the vibrations of your body only magnify as he rubs his hand in time with each hard grind of his hips as his cock continues bullying deeper and deeper into your soaking heat. “That’s the spot, huh, pretty girl?”

His smug, mocking smirk is a front; you know it by the way the muscles in his shoulders tense, signaling he’s summoning every bit of his own will power to fight off his own release, far too invested in savoring yours.

You’re also trying to hold on, and he knows that; he can sense it in the way your nails bite into his back, can see it in how your teeth sink into your plump bottom lip.

You want to cum — badly. And he’s more than eager to see you fall apart.

A growl, low and possessive builds in his throat. “Go on then — be a good girl and give me what I want.”

He gives another sharp, pointed thrust of his hips, burying himself all the way to his hilt before grinding against you, hard. “Let go,” he orders, his voice firmer and you know the leash he has on his own restraint is rapidly fraying.

Levi exhales a quiet swear of relief when he feels your cunt finally seize around him like a vice, and he is transfixed by broken staccato of his name that falls from your pretty lips as your climax washes over you like a wave. A surge of pride wells in his chest at how you manage to keep your eyes locked with his, even though he knows your instinct is to let them roll back into your head as you float among the clouds of pleasured bliss only until he can reach in and haul you back down to earth.

“Atta girl,” he coos, and the pace of his hips slow from those relentless, bruising thrusts to a gentle canting, each roll into your heat deep and purposeful. Then, he feels a surge of your wetness gush over him, dampening the coarse hairs of his base as the walls of your cunt continue to flutter and pulse around him, and Levi somehow finds himself becoming even more smitten with you than he already is. “Oh — it’s a big one, isn’t it?”

And when you look up at him with those big eyes of yours — wide and sparkling with tears of pleasure and exhaustion- and you nod, lower lip quivering, Levi can’t help but lean forward to press his lips to your forehead, as he continues fucking you through your high.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against your damp forehead, his groin churning torturously against yours. “Good fucking girl, cumming for me like this.”

Each grind of his coarse base right against your clit sends sparks additional waves of electrifying pleasure rocking through you until your legs are twitching and spasming beneath him. But Levi only chuckles, the sound dark and rich and so distinctly him.

He continues to guide you through the dizzying ripples of your orgasm, and when the last, gentle wave flickers out like a candle flame, Levi imparts one, final kiss against your forehead.

And then he pulls back, but he is not finished — no where near it, in fact. One by one, your legs are pushed over his shoulders until your knees are pressed to your chest, and his lips curl into something between a grin and a sneer.

He leans down and presses his mouth to the shell of your ear, and you’re not sure whether it’s the heat or his breath or the severity of his promise that sends an excited chill down your spine as he hisses, “My turn.”

Banners from @/benkei-bear!

[wintfleur]

thinking about Daryl Dixon dating a book worm girly . . . they would meet on the Greene farm. She was a good friend of Hershel’s son Shawn, and stayed and lived with the family when the outbreak started. She would spend most of her time with Hershel and Beth or with her face in a book . . . she would like to be alone a lot, having her own spot on the farm away from the house where she could peacefully read and not have to worry about interacting with anyone, a spot that used to be her and Shawn’s . . . also a spot where Daryl decides to set up his own small camp away from everyone . . . well everyone but her. He would be hesitant at first to approach her when he gets back from another search for Sofia, seeing her leaning up against a tree with a thick book in her lap. He’d seen her around a few times in the short amount of time he’s been at the farm, only with Beth or Hershel. He’d ask her what she wants, assuming that she was waiting for him. She’d apologize, saying that she just wanted to be away from everyone, and surprising the both of them he said with a grunt she could stay as long as she didn’t touch his shit or start reading aloud. And for the first time he sees a small smile on her lips . . . but it was quickly covered when she lifted her book up from her lap.

Time-skip to after the farm falls and before they find the prison. They would become closer . . . well as close as two antisocial and closed off people could get. It was more like they found comfort in each other’s silent presence. She was so good at being quiet and finding her way around in the woods that she would often join daryl tracking/hunting. The first time daryl sees her smile since the farm is when he gives her a book he found in the trunk of an abandoned car. Since she couldn’t carry a bunch of books since they were traveling, every time she was done with a book he’d try and search for another to switch it with . . . would let her quietly mumble about the book she was reading when she couldn’t sleep and he was on watch. Would walk next to her as she walks n reads, making sure she wouldn’t trip.

When they make it to the prison, he’d bring her back multiple books whenever he goes out looking for supplies, and over time the small desk she had in her cell was cluttered with books . . . all from daryl. He would let her ramble about her books whenever they were on watch in the watch tower, him standing up and looking out while she comfortably sat on the floor with her book. He’d realize his feelings for her at the strange and unfamiliar feeling he felt in his chest as he watched her read a book to Carl and Beth who was holding Judith.

Time-skip to when they are now together, he would come back late from his shift at the look out tower in the prison and would check on her in there cell, expecting to see her sleeping since it was late . . . Instead she was curled up in her bed, technically now there bed, reading with a lit candle next to her. Not wanting to sleep without him by her side . . . and wanting to also finish another chapter. Whenever daryl would wake up from a nightmare she would quietly read to him, taking him out of his tortured mind and into the lovely world of her book. Whenever she was too focused on a book he’d surprise her with a kiss on her cheek or lips . . . completely stealing her attention. All she would have to do is bat her eyelashes and say please and daryl would fold . . . reading to her when she’s to tired to read herself, she feels so safe and warm when she’s in his arms as she listens to him read to her . . . he always kisses her forehead when he notices she fell asleep, tucking her bookmark a few pages back, knowing that she probably wouldn’t remember the last few pages he read to her.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( take this as my application to write for twd !!! I wrote this in 20 minutes at 1am, soo it’s probably not the best I just couldn’t sleep without getting this written down. Please let me know if I should continue writing for twd . . . I’m currently rewatching the show and my love for daryl just grows stronger !!! Again please let me know what you guys think, don’t be a silent reader <333 )

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[hollyseb]

I DO (part 2)

Mob! Bucky x Reader - Forced Marriage AU

Warnings: MINORS DNI, swearing, violence, sexual content

2.2k words

Summary; Bucky, the leader of the mob, and the daughter of his enemy mob leader, find themselves entangled in a complex relationship

“We got a problem”.

Bucky sent a glance to your sleeping form, the sheets pooling around your waist, with your chest lifting rhythmically.

He ran a hand down his face and groaned, not wanting to leave you. “How bad is it?”, he asked, debating whether to throw the phone at the wall.

“Bad enough”, Steve replied grimly.

Fuck”, Bucky muttered, hastily shoving his phone into his slacks, throwing on the rest his clothes.

Finally reaching the foyer, he grabbed his keys from the table by the door and made his way outside to where his Mercedes was parked. The cool night air hit him like a slap in the face.

Dragging me away from my wife, on my wedding night. This better be fucking good.

“Steve”, Bucky said tersely, stalking into the dark warehouse, his men surrounding a table.

Bucky's gaze swept over the faces of his men, noting the glint of determination in their eyes. The room fell silent as he entered, a testament to his intimidation.

Steves eyes met his, his expression grim but determined. "Bucky, glad you could make it," he said, his voice low and steady.

"What's the situation?" Bucky demanded, his broad shoulders raising and falling in laboured movements.

"Hydra hit us hard tonight," he rasped, his jaw set with determination. "They took out one of our key operations."

Bucky's jaw clenched, “Do we know why?”

Steve faltered for a moment, before clasping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “They’re… not happy about the arrangement with Pierce’s daughter”.

Bucky smirked at that, “well he was quick enough to give her away to pay off his debt… fucking coward”.

“Bucky, they took out 14 of our men, brutally”.

Fuck.

Bucky's expression darkened, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Wipe out half of their men, now”, Bucky began, his lips beginning to curl into a dangerous smirk. “Send a message that we won’t tolerate their interference”.

Steve listened intently, waiting for Bucky to continue.

An intimidating glint flashed through the mob boss’ eyes. “Let them know we will track the rest of them down, one-by-one, take them hostage, and torture them until they are begging to die”, his voice dripping with menace.

This was the mob boss that Steve knew; ruthless, determined and downright frightening.

The warehouse buzzed with anticipation as Bucky directed his men to different parts of the city. The adrenaline from the operation faded, replaced by a growing unease, a pang of guilt gnawing at him. He hated how he left you alone on your wedding night.

Steve sensed his apprehension. “Go home, I got this”, he said assertively.

Bucky hesitated, usually reluctant to relinquish control, but the thought of you waiting for him at home spurred him into action. With a nod of gratitude, he turned on his heel and headed back to his car, eager to be by your side once more.

The first light of dawn was breaking through the darkness when Bucky was speeding home.

Upon entering, he found his home eerily quiet. The faint scent of perfume lingered in the air, a reminder of your presence.

His steps echoed in the empty hallway as he made his way to the bedroom, his mind racing with worry. Had you left in the middle of the night? Did you really feel no connection?

Relief flooded through his body as he pushed the bedroom door open, and saw you tangled in the sheets.

Gently, Bucky pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

After he pulled away slightly, you pounced on him, eyes flashing with anger.

You pinned him to the mattress with a knee on his hip and a hand on his wrist. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, as you took in his bewildered expression.

”Where the hell were you?”, you seethed, your voice demanding. “Leaving in the middle of the night without a word”.

He swallowed hard, opening his mouth to respond.

You interrupted him. “It’s my first night in this house, and you fucking leave?”

”I’m sorry, doll”, he murmured, “it was just…business”, his hand reaching out to brush a stray hair behind your ear.

Is he fucking patronising you?

You scoffed, shoving his hand away. “Business”, you repeated incredulously.

Bucky's jaw clenched at your tone, not accustomed to having his decisions questioned by anyone. His patience wearing thin, "yes, business," he replied firmly, his gaze unwavering. "I had to handle something urgent”.

Your grip on him tightened. “Something urgent, huh? How about I perform a disappearing act too?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “You disappear and I’ll hunt you down”, his voice low and edged.

“Is that a threat?” you challenged, a smirk playing on your lips as you observed the way Bucky’s jaw ticked. You managed to piss him off.

“Call it what you want”, he replied evenly, his tone firm, “but you're not going anywhere without me knowing about it”.

You moved to release him, attempting to roll off of the man, but he had your hip gripped like a vice. The tension in the room thickened, each word hanging in the air like a silent challenge.

Bucky's lips curled into a predatory smile, “but trust me, I don’t need threats to keep you right where I want you”.

“Fuck you”.

Bucky’s eyes darkened with desire as he held you captive beneath him.

“Funny,” he smirked, his voice dripping with hunger, “that’s exactly what I had in mind”.

You sneered at that, but his smirk only widened in response before his lips crashed into yours. You hated his cocky attitude, but you couldn’t help succumbing to him.

Bucky grinned against your lips when he ran his fingertips from your hip to the swell of your breast, feeling goosebumps appear in his wake.

Gently, he cupped your breast, his thumb brushing over your hardened nipple, eliciting a gasp from your mouth. Your body responded instinctively to his touch, arching as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

His other hand slid down your spine, swiftly flipping you onto your back. He pulled away slightly, his gaze lingering on your hazy eyes, swollen lips and the way your breasts bounced as you landed.

With a hungry gleam in his eyes, he began peppering kisses along your jawline and down your neck, until he reached your breasts. He licked the sensitive skin around your nipple tentatively, maintaining unbroken eye contact with you.

You couldn't help but let out a soft whimper at his deliberate slowness, your anticipation building with each teasing touch. He lapped up the sound, a low hum vibrating against your skin as he palmed your other breast.

Your eyes flew open in shock when he started kissing down your stomach, tugging at the duvet pooled around your hips.

“Bucky?”

He hummed in response, fingers curling around the fabric covering your form. His gaze flickered to yours, “relax, doll”, he whispered, his voice a soothing balm, “I've got you”.

With a shaky exhaled you surrendered to his touch.

He pulled the duvet below your knees, and gently placed his hands on your thighs. Slowly, he spread your legs apart, eyes falling from your face to your core.

”Fuck”, he murmured to himself, taking in the sight before him. “You’re so fucking wet”, he growled, a hunger evident in his voice. He needed this.

His gaze flickered back up to meet yours, a primal intensity burning in his eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his head, his lips trailing a scorching path along your inner thighs.

Bucky's movements were deliberate and calculated, his tongue teasingly tracing circles along your skin. You squirmed beneath his touch, your breath hitching as he sucked a love bite into the plump skin of your thigh.

As he finally reached your core, he paused, his gaze locking with yours once more. There was a silent question in his eyes, a silent request for permission. You nodded silently.

With a devilish grin, Bucky lowered his head, licking a stripe through your folds. Your body tensed, breath getting caught in your throat. It felt so foreign, but so natural. His hands gripped your thighs, dragging you closer to his face.

With a stifled moan, you breathed his name. It was blissful, the way his tongue swept over your clit. His fingers traveled from your thighs, to spread your folds, allowing him to lick impossibly deeper.

“B-Bucky”, you stammered, a poor attempt at a warning as he teased you, bringing you to the edge, only to pull you back.

He hummed innocently in response, the vibrations going straight to your clit. You found yourself lifting your hips in an attempt to get him closer, grinding against his tongue.

You knew you were becoming delirious, losing yourself in his touch. Unable to control how your body writhed, and stringing his name between moans and whines. The knot in your stomach tightening.

He ignored your jumbled pleas, mercilessly lapping at your clit. Slowly, he sank his finger into your entrance, controlled and gentle, hardening at the way your walls clenched him.

“Bucky, please”, you whisper breathlessly. You tried to resist the urge to ride his fingers. He revealed in your submission, his gaze darkening with desire. He loved you like this, at his mercy.

”You’re making such a mess, honey”, the sound of your wetness filling the room.

Suddenly, he sucked on your clit and curved his fingers, just at the right pace. The knot released. Your legs shook around his head as your mouth fell open in ecstasy. Fuck. You forgot your own name. You’d never came so hard in your life. You were gasping for air.

He wouldn’t release you, prolonging your climax. He couldn’t get enough of the way you trembled beneath his touch.

As you came down from your high, chest heaving and skin flushed, Bucky crawled up your body, leaving a trail of kisses along your skin.

“Still planning on that disappearing act, huh?”, Bucky said, a smug grin playing on his lips.

In a dazed haze, you managed to lazily roll your eyes. “Gonna need more than just one orgasm to make me forget about that, Buck”.

Bucky’s grin widened at your response, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “Oh sweetheart”, he purred, leaning in closer, “I can make you forget your own name”.

You arched an eyebrow, with a smirk devious enough to match his. “Careful, you might end up forgetting yours too”, you retorted, your tone teasing.

Bucky’s voice dropped to a husky whisper, his breath grazing your ear. “It’ll be hard to forget my name with the way you were moaning it”.

Bucky’s grin faltered as a sharp knock on the bedroom door shattered the tranquil atmosphere.

Quickly, you pulled the sheets up to cover yourself as Bucky padded across the room with a resigned sigh. He swung the door open, revealing the man who you had seen briefly at the wedding, Steve.

The man stepped into the room, his gaze flickering to you briefly before returning to Bucky. You felt exposed under his stare.

”You’re needed downstairs. Now.” Steve's voice was urgent, his eyes darting between you and Bucky with unease.

Bucky’s brow furrowed, muscles tensing with apprehension. “Has Hydra attacked?”, he questioned, his voice edged with concern.

“Bring her downstairs too”, Steve added, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Bucky looked at you over his shoulder. He hated the way you were gripping the bedsheets in fear. Both men fixed their eyes on you, their expressions unreadable. Silently, Bucky nodded to Steve, unease settling like a fog over the room.

“Give us a minute”, Bucky said to Steve, closing the door quietly.

There was a sense of foreboding in your chest as Bucky turned to you, his demeanor suddenly serious. You felt a shiver down your spine. You had yet to see his mob boss side in full throttle.

“Get dressed, now”, he instructed, placing a folded pair of his grey tracksuit bottoms and a plain white tee in your hands.

”Bucky?”, you whispered, alarmed by his haste, “is everything okay?”

“Get dressed”.

Without another word, you obeyed his instructions, slipping into the clothes he provided. You found yourself breathing in the scent of his cologne to calm yourself down.

Once dressed, you met Bucky’s steely gaze. His usual charm was gone. A reminder of the dangerous world he lived in.

Bucky took your hand in his, his thumb drawing circles over your hand. His touch grounded you in the midst of the chaos. together, you made your way downstairs.

As you reached the downstairs of his mansion, the atmosphere shifted palpably. Bucky’s men were gathered in tense clusters, their expressions grim.

"Stay close to me," Bucky murmured, his voice low and reassuring, as he led you through the gathering of his men.

You nodded silently, clinging to his hand tightly as you navigated through the tense atmosphere. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease creeping up your spine.

As you approached the center of the room, Bucky's third-in-command, Sam, stepped forward, his expression grave.

“Hydra has placed a hit on your wife.”

—————————————————————————

Part 3 out soon!

Taglist!

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[hungharrington]

personally i struggle with emotional vulnerability so im not really an “I love you” person? the words get stuck and feel unnatural

BUT READER GIVINF STEVE A HANDJOB N THE FEELING STRIKES HER. she just rests her chin on his shoulder and does a cheesy movie-esque love stare up at him, all you know how much i love you right? love you sooo much stevie. you’re perfect and make me feel so safe, so loved, love you so much for all of that. love you love you love you love you whispered in time with the movement of her hand. leaving little sucky pecks on the chubs of his cheeks. acting as if nothings new when it’s all done, idk if he’d point blank ask or imply but just a “:] hmm? oh, i dunno what you mean stevie :]”

BABEY this was such a 10/10 request like…. the way i sent this to at least 3 different moots when i got it…. ur brain…. so have some subby!steve & as always it’s so in love MDNI this entire blog is 18+, i know the request is for a fem!reader but i’ve kept it gn!reader, 1.1k words, enjoy! <3

You don’t think there’s a prettier sight than how Steve looks when you have your fingers wrapped around his cock.

Cheeks bright flushed pink, eyes screwed up, his chest rising and falling quickly, the muscles beneath his tummy clenching and rippling as you move your hand up and down as fast as you please. 

He’s making those sweet noises you just adore so much — little low moans, each breath laced with a keen that you know will turn into a whimper when he gets closer to the edge. All of his noises go straight between your thighs but right now isn’t about you. It’s about Steve.

The couch cushions press into your legs as you shift, rearranging to be closer to him. You hook your chin over his shoulder, you spare hand creeping up his back, slow and soothingly. The wet sounds of his dripping cock sound fucking heavenly, doused in his soft quiet moans, as you curl your fingers into his hair. Raking them through, your thighs press tighter together when Steve lets out a particularly loud moan. 

“Mm, feeling good, Stevie?” You talk lowly, so close you know he can hear you. You press a kiss into his shoulder, nuzzling your nose along down to his collarbone, your hand fucking his cock a little bit faster. Steve keens, fighting to keep his hips still, trying to be good. His hands clench into fists at his sides. 

He’d had such a day and you had offered to take care of him and Steve just wants to be good for you. 

He nods quickly to answer your question, creasing his eyes open to meet yours and you feel his cock twitch at the sight of your adoring gaze on him— chin on his shoulder, hand gliding his cock so perfectly, dropping another kiss on the exposed skin of his shoulder. 

“Yes, fuck, yes— your hand is always so good, baby.” Steve pants lightly, eyes still fixed on you. They drop to your lips and you don’t deny him, pushing up and leaning in to kiss him. He’s messy with it, not quite the usual practice he has and when you thumb over his slit, Steve groans into your mouth. He breaks the kiss, a high whine escaping his mouth, hips jumping up to meet your hand. 

His forehead drops, leaning against yours and you lean in again, your next kiss on his cheek. 

“Good, y’so good baby. You know how I love you, right?” You murmur, nearly cooing, right as you scrape your fingers through his hair again. Steve shudders beneath you, his eyes cinched shut but a whimper still slips from his throat, loud and high. You speed up your hand, the squelching of it getting louder and louder. 

“Shit,” Steve curses, peeking his eyes open. “Y’can’t say tha- that right now or— ah— I’m gonna cum in a minute.” 

“Love you soooo much, Stevie,” you continue like you haven’t heard him, twisting your hand in that torturous way while your other hand strokes down the nape of his neck, your touch soft with love. Steve gasps loudly, his hips bucking again and all his moans melt into soft whimpers. You kiss his cheek again, nuzzling your nose against his as your adoring words pour out. 

“You’re perfect f’me, you know?” You whisper, your thumb teasing his tip again. Steve whines, his chest heaving with his whimpering heavy breaths. You can see his hands flexing, forming and reforming fists over and over. “You make me feel so safe, so loved, Stevie, love you so much for that.” 

“Fuck,” Steve breathes. He sounds so wrecked for you, voice all raspy from his moans. “Fuck, honey- you can’t just— nghm—“ 

“Love you,” you whisper lovingly, your hand twisting into his hair again and tugging lightly. You speed up your hand tugging his heavy cock, heat bubbling in your tummy at how it leaks all over your hand, the head of it flushed bright pink. You kiss his cheek again sloppily. 

“Love you, love you, love you so much,” You say, drinking in his fucked out expression— brown eyes hidden away, pink lips parted in a whine, his blush standing out against his tan skin. Steve trembles against you, breathing jagged. 

“You can’t—“ He whines softly. “I’m gonna— oh fuck, baby—“

“You can.” You hush him sweetly, another kiss to his shoulder. “C’mon, you can, Stevie. Wanna see you cum f’me, baby, wanna see you cum while I tell you how much I love you, yeah?” 

Steve heaves a deep stuttering breath, his hands finally moving from his sides to grip at your shirt— his fingers twist in and he tugs you impossibly closer. His face turns to hide in your neck as his whimpers start to catch, hips bucking up uncontrollably into your fist. Sweet whiney noises pour into your skin as his orgasm builds up and up — you sweep your hand along the back of his neck again and say it again, a low loving whisper of “I love you,” and Steve breaks. 

His whine is so noisy as the first stream of cum dribbles from his cock and when you don’t slow your pace, you feel his lips part and his teeth sink into your shoulder lightly. He whimpers pathetically, his top half turned to cling to you while you work all his hot cum from his cock, painting your hand and his thighs with it. 

“Mm, so good, love you Stevie, love how well you did for me,” Your murmurs tide Steve over until his soft whines of pleasure turn to whimpers of overstimulation and you finally release his cock. Your hand moves to thigh instead, giving a soft rub as you try to coax his face out. 

“That was big, huh? You came a lot.” Your gaze wanders to his cum-streaked thighs and you can’t help the tiny giggle that titters out of you — it’s enough to get Steve to lift his face. He’s so pink still that it makes you want to coo at him. He looks only a smidge embarrassed, more blissed out than anything. 

“I told you,” He huffs breathlessly, a lazy smile on his face as his head lolls back to rest against the couch. “You can’t say that and expect me not to…” 

He gestures wordlessly to his crotch and you laugh a little, snuggling back up to him. You kiss his neck, nosing up to kiss his jaw and Steve waits patiently, humming happily when you reach his lips. 

You pull back with a teasing smile, “I know but I don’t expect it to keep working every time.” 

Steve waves a hand, eyes slipping closed as his lazy grin spreads. “Mmhmm, liar. You know what it does to me.” 

His words are lovingly, like he loves that you know what he loves. You kiss his cheek once more. 

“Yeah, I do,” you admit gleefully. “And I love it nearly as much as I love you.” 

Steve’s dick gives a soft twitch against his thighs and he groans, face screwing up for a second. “Don’t,” he warns. He opens his eyes to glare at you but there’s no heat. You grin and kiss him again. 

[buckyalpine]

Bucky uses safe word

I was feeling angstyyyyy 

Warnings: Use of safe word, sub space, overstimulation, slight non-verbal Bucky, aftercare, 

“I can take it” Bucky nodded, sucking in a breath when he heard the clink the cuff, pushing aside his anxieties, instead focusing on your pretty, naked body. “I’m ready”  

This wasn’t particularly new to Bucky; letting you take control while you toyed with his body, pulling pleasure from him while you also pleasured yourself. He loved giving himself to you, taking everything you’d give him, the satisfied, lust filled dazed look on your face fulfilling him in a way he couldn’t explain. 

It started with just letting you riding him on top to him now allowing you to push his body further and further, testing his limits. 

He loved it. 

The feel of your hands closing around his neck.

The feel of your nails scratching his skin. 

The feel of your palms striking his flushed cheek. 

The feel of pleasure shooting through his body, just to be stopped right before his release.

It was a delicious, painful torture. 

Maybe because he felt he deserved it. Pain was all he knew. It felt right. 

Even when he wasn’t ready for it.

Like right now. 

The usual prickles of pleasure he’d feel from your nails when you gripped onto his shoulders to ride him felt too hot. His body ached, mind too hazy to focus on the way you bounced up and down on his length, instead his throat closing in on itself, feeling trapped as the restraints dug into his wrists.

He knew he was safe with you, that no one could hurt him, that he had full control to stop everything when he wanted. Yet, he was slipping further and further into a deep space where he couldn’t speak for himself, where he had to be silent and just take what was given to him. He tried so hard to be good, to let you satisfy yourself on him, to ignore the pain of overstimulation between his legs, to ignore the way he was struggling to breathe, his chest starting to heave with panic. He should’ve listened to the voice that screamed at him to be honest about how he felt. 

That tonight, he needed soft loving and cuddles, that he just wanted you to hold and take care of him. Hot tears welled in his lash line, no longer able to hold it together, forcing the word out as best as he could, he didn’t want to disappoint you but he was drowning. 

“R-red” 

You froze hearing the tiny whimper, immediately stopping your movements and reaching over to release the cuffs, setting them out of view. 

“It’s okay sweet boy, its okay” You cooed, carefully slipping off, not wanting to overstimulate Bucky further, your hands softly massaging his wrists. He curled up in on himself, shame and guilt clouding his mind, slipping deeper into subspace, unable to swim to the surface. 

“So-sorry” He hiccupped, tears streaming down his face, a part of him thinking he deserved punishment again, having stopped you when he could have just sucked it up for a moment longer. “m’s-sorry” 

“No baby, don’t. Can I touch you?” He gave you a small nod, letting you cup his cheek, gently guiding him to look at you while he tried to hide his face into the pillow, refusing to look at you, “Look at me Jamie” You wiped the tears that continued to fall, pulling him to your chest while he sniffled, burying his face between your breasts. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you used your safe word bub, m’so proud of you” You could feel some of the tension ease from his shoulders though only getting a whimper from him as a response. You continued to kiss his forehead, rubbing soothing circles down his spine, while he slowly started to regulate his breathing, following the rise and fall of your chest. “So proud of you baby boy” 

He looked at you with wide eyes when you shift from under him, clinging onto you tighter, unable to speak but his face telling you he didn’t want you to go anywhere. 

“I’m going to clean you up baby, not going anywhere” You pecked his forehead before grabbing a warm wash cloth and soothing lotion, the one with a lavender scent that he found calming. Your heart broke at the way his body flinched, as if he was anticipating a painful strike, eyes squeezing shut, waiting for the blow. 

“I won’t hurt you baby, you’re safe” You held back your own tears, cleaning his sweat slicked body, kissing away the sore areas before carefully moving lower. “Shhh, almost done, you’re doing so good for me bub” You gently wiped his thighs, using only a feather light touch when you got closer to where he was most sensitive, rubbing up and down his tensed muscles to ground him. He whined at the feeling of you brushing over his sensitive cock, squeezing his thighs together. 

“M’sorry baby, just a little bit more” you cooed, dabbing away your sticky mixed arousal before tossing away the cloth. “I’m going to get you some water and take care of you, okay?” 

Bucky nodded, reluctantly letting you go, trembling slightly when you pulled up the covers to tuck him in. You found your robe, slipping it on while you quickly went to the kitchen to get some juice and snacks, noting he seemed to prefer sweet things when he got like this. You grabbed his favorite peanut butter cups and some strawberries, cutting them up into smaller bite sized pieces before bringing them up. 

He was happy to curl into your lap, letting you feed him between taking sips of water, toying with the corner of the blanket, a nervous habit he had when he was unsure of how to communicate. 

“How are you feeling baby, do you want to tell me what happened?” You tested the waters, still hugging his body to yours, letting him take his time while he peered up at you through his dark lashes. 

“Just wanted cuddles today” He managed to get out, still guilty over having used the safe word, “Sorry-

You cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips, before letting him rest his head into the crook of your neck. “Don’t, don’t apologize for using it, I’m glad you did, okay? You were so good baby boy, do you still want cuddles?” You checked on him to be sure, squealing when he wrapped his arms tightly around you, his leg hitched over your body, feeling especially needy for you to hold him.

“Still wan’ cuddles” he whispered, closing his eyes as you pulled up the covers, protecting him in a safe cocoon of warmth. 

“You can always tell me if you just want cuddles baby” You ran your fingers through his hair, letting him snuggle further against your chest, “Always”

[freedomfireflies]

Find Me*

Summary: An extra for Teach Me*

Harry has never slipped into his subspace before.

Until today.

Word Count: 3.5k

*Contains Mature and Explicit Content. Take care of yourself first, only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“God, please, Bee…please—fuck.”

You watch Harry’s eyes roll back as his hips buck up into the vibrating toy pressed against the tip of his cock. He tugs on the cuffs keeping his wrists attached to the headboard as he curses your name and you can’t help but smile proudly at his reaction.

Harry hasn’t had an orgasm in twenty-four hours.

Twenty-four long, excruciating hours.

Truthfully, you think he’s handled it like a champ.

After all, this was his idea. 

And sure, when he’d suggested edging as something to check off the list, he meant edging you.

Not him.

But here you both are, twenty-four hours into a nonstop fuck-fest.

And it’s been great.

…for you.

You’ve come to learn one very important thing since you both agreed to fuck each other exclusively:

He’s so goddamn beautiful.

In every way. At every time. No matter what he’s doing, if he’s fucking, if he’s speaking, if he’s naked, if he’s asleep. 

And you’ll never get over it. Never be able to look away from him when he’s coming or thrusting into you or begging you to fuck him or rolling you over his cock.

You paint pictures in your head whenever he’s not around.

Of his tan, inked skin that glistens with sweat when he overexerts himself. Of the way his chest rises and falls with desperate gasps for air. Of his curls that fall across his forehead and dance into his eyes. Of the veins in his arms strain from the use of his muscles. 

Which is why you have no problem dragging this little challenge out as far as it can go.

Because Harry makes it all worth it.

“Please,” he groans beneath a forced breath, hooded eyes lifting to find you. “Please, baby…need to feel you. Gotta feel you, Bee—”

His sweet sentiment is lost underneath your own whimper, and your head falls back as you slip the glass dildo in a bit further.

You’ve found numerous ways to torture him. From taking him in your mouth (and popping off before he can come) to riding his cock slowly (and popping off before he can come).

You’ve teased him, fucked him, near tortured him with pleasure just to take it away.

But the one thing that seems to really do it for him…is watching you touch yourself just out of his reach.

You’ve already done this twice in the past day, but this is his final straw. You can tell just from the way his aggressive threats from yesterday have turned into depleted and anguished whines for mercy today.

You’ve never heard him make so many pathetic noises and it’s everything. The soundtrack you could live the rest of your life to.

And you use it to help you ease the toy in and out of your already overused cunt. Because while Harry has had zero orgasms, you have had many. Perhaps too many if the way you have to stop for Gatorade and snacks every couple of hours is any clue. 

But you don’t mind. And neither does he, truthfully. He likes watching you come. Tells you this constantly. And it’s that kind of appreciation and thrill that continues to inspire your next one.

“Harry,” you whisper, lashes fluttering shut as you clench around the toy, and you hear him gasp again. 

He wants that to be him. Wants it more than anything.

Which is why you aren’t giving it to him.

“Bee…” His voice is small. Airy. Almost reverent in a sense as he calls out to you. As he begs you to give him something.

The sounds of your arousal as it’s pushed in and out of you is an erotic symphony and you just about shudder as it echoes around the room.

Harry whimpers. 

And it’s so pathetic and so depraved that it forces your eyes back open so you can see him.

The vibrating object against his cock is dragging him once again to the finish line. The finish line he has seen and lost a plethora of times already. It’s got to hurt at this point. In fact, you know it does. Know he’s barely holding on and your heart aches for him.

You steal a quick glance down at your phone that’s just beside you to look for two things:

The first being so that you can check the settings on the Bluetooth toy to make sure it doesn’t need adjusting.

And the second being so you can see the timer and calculate just how much time is left in this little experiment. 

Five minutes.

He’s only got five minutes left before his twenty-four hours are up, and you’re so fucking glad. You’d almost argue that you need him to come more than he needs it.

Because while making yourself come (either by your fingers, or a dildo, or his cock) is nice, it’s nothing compared to coming with him. Of knowing that he was the one responsible for your pleasure.

Truth be told, you don’t think you’ll be too quick to suggest edging in the future.

You waste a couple more minutes with the glass toy, thrusting it slowly at different angles until your toes are curling and your nails are scratching into the sheets. 

Poor Harry just about loses it as he sees you get closer to your release. Quietly begging you to let him feel you come. To have you ride his cock like earlier as you clench down on him. It’s his favorite thing in the world and you pout when you hear his request.

Three minutes.

You pull the dildo out and you both watch the string of arousal that follows, with Harry writhing against the headboard, once more pulling on the handcuffs. 

To tease him just a little more, you lift it up and bring it to your mouth. Your tongue drags upward, collecting everything in its path until you can wrap your lips around the tip of the toy and take it into your mouth.

Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, and he smacks his head back against the wall, almost as if in retaliation. 

You grin.

After tossing the object aside, you crawl back over to his lap. He continues to keep that pretty green hidden from you as you smooth your palms up his thighs to alert him of your presence. 

And not even after you’ve removed the vibrating wand and begun to straddle him does he look at you. He simply makes a noise in the back of his throat that sounds like a desperate whine before allowing you to take his cock in your hand.

You pump him a few times, just to feel how heavy he is, how needy. He twitches the moment he feels you, a soft sigh slipping from his lips.

And finally, once you gingerly drag him along your cunt, he looks up. 

You reach out to cup his cheek, stroking your thumb across the feverish skin as you whisper, “It’s okay, Har. We’re almost done.”

He perks up, expression growing hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you hum as you glance back down. “Want you to come with me.”

“Yes,” he breathes, already attempting to wiggle up and assist. “Yes, do anything.”

“Anything?” you tease, brushing your thumb down his lip. “Already done everything for me, baby.”

He seems to bask in this praise, slowly pulling your finger into his mouth until he can suck it sweetly. Mostly just to make your cheeks warm.

Which they do.

When you lower yourself down, you both cry out. You’re so overworked and overstimulated from the past few hours that it’s almost painful.

But that kind of pain feels like ecstasy right now, so you instantly get to work rolling your hips and working you both to the end.

As you do, Harry continues to fight against the restraints, another fruitless attempt at reaching for you.

This is something else you’ve learned he loves. He loves to hold you. Pretty much at any given moment, but especially when you come. 

You’d asked him about it before and he said the emotional intimacy was just as orgasmic and satisfying as the physical intimacy. And you’d laughed because it hadn’t made a whole lot of sense.

But having come so many times in the past day without him holding you has felt rather…unsatisfying.

Empty.

You realize now he was exactly right.

You surge forward and kiss him, and he moans into your mouth as though you’ve given him everything he’s ever needed. As if you’ve given him air in his lungs. As if this is what he’d really wanted.

One minute. 

He’s already begging you not to leave him again, saying your name over and over and over as you attempt to shush him. As you promise to be good to him and let him fill you the way he loves to do.

Your hands scratch down his chest and he hisses at the sting but seems to revel in it. You know he likes the pain. 

He likes to joke that he’s gonna get your marks tattooed on his chest permanently so he can always see them. Always show them off.  

And you always laugh at this but deep down, you know he just might do it.

Right now, you want him to.

You scratch until he bleeds. Until the ruby red blood trickles down his chest and stains the tips of your fingers.

Until he’s whimpering again and thrusting up into you, searching for that release. 

You’re both close. Both so fucking close that you can’t see anything else but the end. You can’t see reason, can’t see how tired you are, can’t see the point.

You just see him.

The timer goes off, the startling melody blaring from your phone speaker as you both jolt.

But this seems to be the perfect jumpstart for you because the second you hear it, you begin nodding fervently as you retake his face in your hands and whisper, “Now, baby. Now. Come for me right now. Please, Harry. Please, need to feel you. Need it, Har, God—”

It’s animalistic and virile the way he cries out for you. The way it fucking rips through him like a blade, forcing you along with it.

It’s everything.

Everything you’d been missing from the previous twenty-four hours, and this is so much better than coming alone.

You kiss him through each second, arms snaking around his neck to keep your bodies close. 

And you hold him. You hold him the way he can’t hold you. You hold him as you both feel it, as you bathe in the euphoric bliss, as you live. 

It feels like hours before you finally come back down and find yourself again. Until you can breathe, and blink, and move.

Your face nuzzles into Harry’s neck and he presses his cheek into your hair, keeping you close.

“How do you feel?” you whisper after a moment, pressing a chaste kiss to his sweaty skin.

He hums.

Chuckling to yourself, you pull yourself back so you can see him again, and the tired, faraway look in his eye makes your pulse stutter.

You reach out to brush your fingers through the damp curls, guiding them off his forehead as he nestles into your touch. “You okay, baby?”

More humming and nodding.

Your smile widens. “My sweet boy…little out of it, hm?”

He says nothing. He only relaxes against the headboard, seemingly content to have you sweep your hands through his hair for the rest of time.

You snort. “Okay, I’m gonna go grab the key and then grab us a snack. Guess we better shower, too—”

Suddenly, he’s sitting up, eyes going wide as you begin to crawl off his lap. “Wait, where…where are you going?”

“Told you,” you call over your shoulder as you make your way for the key on the desk. “Gonna let you go and then get some food.”

He blinks, almost as if trying to process your response.

However, you simply toss him a smile and return to the bed so you can set him free.

He doesn’t watch the key turn in the lock but instead watches your face. He watches your concentration as you attempt to keep him comfortable and pull him free as quickly as you can. He watches your nose scrunch and your brows furrow when it sticks before finally clicking. And he watches you gently drop his arms down to his sides before discarding of the metal restraints.

The moment he’s got use of his hands again, he uses them to grab onto you, and wrestle you onto the bed.

You laugh as you’re scooped up against his chest and rolled over until you’re on your back and he’s tucked into your side.

Now it’s his turn to bury his face in your neck as he takes a deep breath and lets you live within his lungs. 

And you don’t exactly mind.

You stay there for the next few minutes, nails now gently scratching up and down his back to soothe him as he practically purrs.

You love these moments with him.

True to form, you eventually take hold of his wrists and bring them to your mouth, kissing along the angry, pink marks painted across the skin.

He returns to watching you do this, just as mesmerized by your tenderness as he was the first time.

And you exist together. Just like this.

Eventually, fatigue begins to catch up with you, and you’ll only feel truly rested if you’re fed and showered. 

So, you begin to pull yourself out of his grasp, only to have him tighten his arms as he murmurs, “No. Stay.”

You chuckle as you dip down to press a kiss to his forehead. “We need to shower, Har, and then we can come back to bed.”

“No,” he whispers, eyes squeezing shut. “No. Don’t…don’t wanna move.”

His pleas are sweet, and you almost want to coo at him, but you know you need to make him eat something and let him clean himself up. He’ll feel so much better after he has, and you want that for him.

You wrangle yourself out from between his arms and stand from the bed. “Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You practically skip to the kitchen, despite your weary muscles. You love what you two have. Love the incredible sex and the even more incredible connection.

You love him.

You’ve always loved him. As your best friend, as a partner, as a really great fuck.

He’s just…

Everything.

You make some toast and grab a glass of water before returning to the bedroom. You’ll have him take a few bites and then you’ll drag him to the bath so you both can unwind and talk.

This is another ritual of yours. After each scenario and experimentation, you devote some of the aftercare to talking about it. What worked, what didn’t. What you liked, what you’d prefer not to do again.

These are some of your favorite chats. There’s a certain vulnerability in admitting your preferences in such a way. Somehow more vulnerable than actually being naked with said person. At least for the two of you.

But he loves to hold you, your back against his chest, his fingers interlocked with yours. And you just…talk. Sometimes you’ll tease him about how good he is at something after having only done it one time.

And he’ll tease you about how you secretly love his inexperience because it makes you feel powerful.

Which it does. And you do.

So, today, you’re looking forward to having another one of these chats. You already anticipate some quippy remarks about how he’s not a fan of your methods and you can’t help smiling as you make your way for the bedroom.

When you arrive, you find that there’s something…off.

The boyish smile he usually sports after sex is nowhere to be found, instead replaced with a rather vacant, spaced-out expression. 

You arrive at his side and slowly push the plate and drink toward him. “Har?”

He blinks, head rolling until he can slowly look up at you. 

You feel your pulse stagger. “You okay?”

For a moment, he says nothing. Almost as if he’s running your question through in his mind.

And then…his eyes get glassy. His pretty, pink lips push into a pout, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Where did you go?” he murmurs, and instantly, your stomach drops. “You…you left. Wasn’t…I didn’t…”

You’ve never heard him speak like this. In such a desolate, forlorn way. 

You place the food on the nightstand and immediately crawl back onto his lap. Your arms wrap around him and you hold onto him so tight, you’re surprised he can still breathe.

“I didn’t go,” you whisper, pressing kisses to his temple. “Promise. I’m right here.”

His large arms snake around your middle as well, fingerprints pressing indents into your sides as he squeezes just as tight.

Then, he disappears into your neck, mumbling something you don’t catch, but even still…it guts you.

You’ve never seen anyone in their subspace before. Especially not Harry. You yourself have only slipped maybe once or twice. 

It’s an incredibly…intense experience. Can make you feel helpless in a sense. Completely dependent on one person, so far removed from yourself and from your consciousness that you don’t know anybody or anything else.

Truth be told, seeing Harry so…small is almost frightening. Because this need to protect him and keep him safe just about overwhelms you. You don’t want him to feel abandoned or scared or unsure.

You just…you want to keep him in your arms forever. Want to tell him that you’ll never leave him. That even if you did…you’d always come back.

“M’right here,” you tell him again, fingers stroking through the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Promise, promise, promise.”

You think he hums his contentment, but you can’t really hear him. You choose instead to believe that he’s relaxing as he loosens his grip on you and presses a kiss to your collarbone.

You lean back to see him. “Wanna take a bath with me?”

He seems intrigued with this, nodding quickly as you gingerly remove yourself from his body and help him off the bed.

Things are quiet for the next few moments. You start the water, crouching beside the tub so you can make sure the temperature is just right. And once it’s ready, you take Harry’s hand, and help him step over the ledge.

This time, he’s the one in your arms. Sitting between your legs, snuggled back against your chest. 

It’s perfect.

You don’t rush to bathe him right away, instead allowing him to simply settle in your embrace as the hot water gently relaxes his muscles.

You don’t try to coax him back to you, either. You let him decide when he feels safe enough to slip out. To return to his own mind instead of yours.

But you do have to admit…you miss him. Miss the normally chatty and borderline annoying man you’ve come to tolerate. 

“Har?” you murmur as you trickle some water down his chest.

He hums.

“Are you gonna let me find you soon?” you ask softly, lips ghosting the shell of his ear. 

“Find me?”

“Yeah.” You drape both arms around his shoulders as your hands come to rest over his butterfly tattoo. “Wanna find you and take you to bed with me.”

The side of his mouth quirks up in a lazy smile. “Can always take me to bed with you.”

You grin, too. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His lashes flutter shut. “Don’t have to find me. M’always here.”

“…are you?”

He hums again.

You aren’t quite sure what that means but you don’t push it further. Whether he’s slipped out of his subspace or not, he’s still your Harry.

And your Harry needs all the love and attention you have to offer.

You stay in the bath for exactly twenty minutes longer before realizing you need to get him into bed before he falls asleep on you.

It’s a bit of a struggle to move him. He’s already half asleep, and very large, and very heavy.

But after wrangling him to the bedroom, you manage to tuck him in, and get him settled.

You’re not far behind. Physically and emotionally spent from the past twenty-four hours. He curls into your side once he realizes you’re there, and you fall asleep with the sounds of his soft breaths against your cheek.

Sometime in the night, you’re awoken by the feel of his thumb sweeping across your jaw. It’s gentle enough not to startle you, and you sigh sleepily as you blink the dreams from your eyes so you can see him.

He’s propped up on his arm as he stares down at you, continuing the tender caresses to your face.

“Hi,” you murmur.

“Hi,” he murmurs back. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you, I just…I wanted to see you. And I couldn’t wait until morning.”

You fight a grin as you slip your fingers around his wrist and give it a squeeze. “You’re very cute.”

“I know,” he replies teasingly, and you chuckle. “And…I wanted to thank you.”

Your head tilts. “Thank me? For what?”

He takes a moment to study you, a look of adoration on his face.

Then…he smiles.

“Finding me.”

Next Part:

~ Watch Me* (A Teach Me Extra)

Previous Part:

~ Love Me* (Pt. 5)

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Dedicated to @catlover99sstuff who requested more subspace Harry quite a while ago 😭

Tags: (Since this is an extra, I have no idea if you guys want to be tagged in it, but if not, please let me know! And I will remove you promptly! But if you are okay with being on this list, then welcome back, I've missed you🥹💞)

@onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @indierockgirrl @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @harrysxcarolina @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @straightontilmornin @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @tiaamberxx @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Starved

Poe Dameron x Fem!reader

Summary: Poe comes back from a mission and has a certain hunger. ;)

Tags: Smut, P in V, oral Fem!receiving, dirty talk, dom!Poe, teasing Poe.

"Honey, you there?"

You heard the door to your quarters slide open, acompanied with the familiar voice of Poe.

Walking back from small kitchenete, sipping on a bottle Blue Milk, you saw Poe in your room, looking as handsome as ever.

"Hey Poe." You smiled.

"There you are." He shot a charming smile and walked up to you, "How was your day?"

"Good, yours?" You answered.

"Good, but being with you now is the highlight." Poe grinned, stepping closer to kiss your forehead.

"Missed you, flyboy." You smiled and gently hugged him.

"Missed you more. And now I'm starving." Poe whispered, hugging you back and squeezing you gently.

"Then go eat something." You chuckled.

"Not food, already had that....hold on tight." Poe kissed your hair, you could feel him grinning.

Before you could respond, Poe picked you up effortlessly, making your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he carried you to the bed, and setting you down gently.

"Been thinking about this the whole day." Poe knelt down on the floor between your legs.

"You in the mood again?" You giggled.

Poe cocked his head up, his brown eyes were practically burning with the desire "What do you think?" He replied huskily while his hands were slowly making his way up your legs.

"Been thinking about how good you'd look while I eat you out, all spread out, squeezing my head with your pretty thighs..." Poe hooked his fingers through the waistband of your panties while you felt yourself getting wetter by each second, ruining your panties.

He slid your panties down. Slowly, while looking into your eyes and licking his lips as his eyes travelled down to your already leaking hole, "See? Your sweet pussy agrees." he grinned, pulling your panties off and tossing them carelessly into a corner.

"Poe please..." You whimpered needily, wanting him to do something already.

But instead of giving you what you want, he shot his eyes up to yours, the corners of his lips quirking up, "Don't think you'll be off the hook easy. I want your sweet leaking fountain down there, and I will enjoy my time."

Poe slowly leaned in, bringing a hand with him to run two fingers teasingly along your soaked folds.

He always knew how you liked it. You threw your head back onto the pillow, your hips bucking up but Poe then removed the fingers, "Needy little thing... already so desperate, hm?"

You whined at the loss, "Poeee, that's torture!"

"Nope, it was torture for me haven't been able to eat you out all day." Poe leaned in dangerously close to your hole, his breath hitting it almost sent you over the edge, "Oh honey, I didn't even start and you're already losing it." He chuckled.

"Pleasee do something." You whined needily.

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you." Poe gave you a devilish grin before he dipped in and started eating you out like a starved man, his tongue running along your folds, two fingers came up to spread you open and he dipped his tongue in your hole, thrusting in and out.

Your eyes lulled back in your head as you moved your hands to his hair, running your fingers through his loose curls, making him groan against you

"Keep doing that and I will eat you out all night too."

You didn't thought you could get even wetter than you were already leaking but his words made it possible, and your thighs instinctively snapped around his head.

"Yeah that's it, you love the idea of me eating you out all night huh? You know I would happily slurp you out until you fall asleep." Poe kept going, the only sounds were his slurping sounds and your moans filling the room.

"Poe, Poe, I'm about to cum!" You warned him, gripping his hair tighter.

"Do it. Give it to me." He demanded while his tongue continued to ravage you, swirling around to help you reach your orgasm faster. Seconds later your orgasm approached fast and hard, crashing down on you and making you see stars.

Poe greedily slurped up your juices, riding out your orgasm. Then he got up, gently stroking your inner thigh, "And now comes my Dessert." He got up, unzipped his pants and freed his already hard cock, giving it a few strokes as precum started to leak. He stepped closer between your legs and rubbed the tip of his cock along your swollen entrance before pushing in slowly.

"Fuck, Poe..." You moaned, your pussy getting stretched by his thickness.

"Such a good girl for me." Poe groaned, starting to thrust into you.

The aftermath of your first orgasm subsided, now getting replaced by the pleasure once again "So good, please don't stop." You moaned, making him increase his pace, now slamming into you.

"You always take me so, so well, sweety." Poe's hand reached down between your legs to rub your clit, making you moan louder and arch your back.

"I'm not gonna last long, Poe." You moaned, as he increased the clit rubbing.

"Come on, sweetheart, squeeze my cock." Poe grunted, he knew those words would make you squeeze him. And you did, you squeezed him, making him lose his mind and increase the thrusting.

Your second orgasm ripped through, your pussy clamping down on Poe's cock, making him orgasm seconds after you, his hot cum painting your insides white.

Poe grunted and had to support himself on his hands on either side of you on the bed, "Fuck, honey." He chuckled, slowly pulling out and collapsing beside you to catch his breath.

"What happened to you?" You chuckled, still out of breath.

"Sometimes it just happens. But let's get cleaned up." He smiled, kissing your forehead and stood up, heading to the bathroom and returned with a warm washcloth to clean you up before he did the same.

While Poe cleaned himself up, you put on another set of panties and got under the covers, waiting as you were about to fall asleep.

Poe soon returned, got into bed and pulled you into his arms, you happily snuggled up in his embrace.

Poe stroked your hair affectionately, you almost dozed off, and Poe burying his face into your neck.

"I will be here at the base the whole day tomorrow. Just letting you know." He grinned against your skin.

"What?!"

-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 8

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

It feels like hours since it began. The night assures you of the passing time as each second stretches into eternity. You’re weak as you lay on the floor, sprawled and twitching, as your nerves continue to torture you from the inside.  

A coat of sweat covers every pore and your hair is damp with the endless struggle between hot and cold. You claw at your cheeks and neck as if you can rip open your own flesh like a coat. You just want to be free. You want it to stop. 

You moan senselessly as another thrum builds. Your insides squirm and that knot begins to tie around itself. You heave and curl up in a ball as you bite down on your lip. Right as you’re about to climax, the tide ebbs and leaves you dried out. 

“Please,” you sob, “Tony, please... I can’t...” you rasp as you try to sit up, only to fall back onto your side, “please...” 

“What’sa matter, sweetheart? You need some help?” He taunts as his footsteps echo around the room. 

“Yessss,” you whine. 

“Mm, and how can I help you?” He tisks. 

“Please...” 

“Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do to help you, sweetheart,” he stops, his shadow looming over you like a wraith. “Say it nice and clear for me.” 

You groan and wipe your forehead, a sheen slathering your knuckles. 

“Tony, please--” 

“Say it, baby, because I’m a bit confused here. You said you didn’t want me but you’re sending mixed signals--” 

“Just!” You screech and force yourself flat, your body vibrating. “Please, Tony, fuck me. Just do it. End it. I need... I need to cum. It hurts.” 

“Ah, I know it hurts. You know what else hurts? Words. You called me disgusting,” he scoffs. 

You growl and writhe. He hasn’t exactly proven you wrong but you can’t think straight enough to argue. You can’t think at all. 

“Please, you’re not—I--” 

“Tell me you want me, sweetheart.” 

You pout and your eyes well with tears, “I want you. Please.” 

“And how do you want me?” He kneels down, hovering by your head as he holds a finger over his watch. 

“I... any way? I don’t care--” 

“Tell me how you want me,” he demands. 

You groan and clutch at your chest, “inside me. Er, oh...” you drone, “from behind?” 

“Oh, kinky girl? You got a nice peach, don’t ya?” He reaches to tickle your thigh and you babble as you bite your lip. Just a touch and you’re on fire. 

He pulls his hand away from his watch. The buzz inside of you remains tepid but still there, just enough to keep you uncomfortable. He grabs you by your arm and stands, hauling you up to your feet. Your legs wobble dangerously under you. 

He wraps his arm around your back and turns you to face the cityscape outside the tower. He walks you across the room and leads you before the window. He shifts to stand behind you and guides your hands to the glass pane. You brace it desperately as you fight to keep from collapsing. 

The sharp cut of his zipper rises in the air and you whimper. Your palms smear on the window as he lets his pants fall to his ankles with a rustle that sends a breeze up your back. You shiver as he traces the curves of your sides and frames your hips. He brings your feet back so you stand at a slight angle. He kicks your heels apart with his leather shoe. 

You can’t help but arch in expectation. Desperation. You just need it to end. You need the release. Your panting breaths fog up the glass as the city sparkles back at you. 

He keeps a hand on your hip as his other flutters up your ass. You moan and he snickers. He steps closer and pulls his thumb back to press his tip down between your cheeks. You groan and lean back, begging silently. 

He rubs himself up and down your crack, teasing you, taunting you. Your thighs quiver and your fingertips stick to the glass, squeaking loudly. You stand on your toes and push against him. 

He trails down and presses his tip along your entrance. You whine and stick your tongue. You purr around it and slap the window. You wish he would just put it in! 

As if he can read your thoughts, he dips into you. You gurgle and put your forehead to the glass pane. You growl as he bottoms out and drags his hand up to your neck. He pins you as you are and thrusts. The panel shakes but you don’t have the sense to care. 

He slides back and you reach to latch onto him. You pull him back into you and dig your nails into him. He slaps his hand over yours and bucks. You grunt and huff. 

“Fucking more,” you demand. 

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t get snappy with me.” 

He rams again and you squeal. 

“Fuck, yeah,” you sigh. “Fuck.” 

“Mmm, I like you like this,” he ruts again. “Clinging onto me for dear life.” 

He flicks his wrist oddly and suddenly, the pane slides away and you’re left with only air before you. You flail out with one arm as you hang onto him with your other. He keeps you balance as he snakes his arm around you and rolls his hips. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he snarls as he bends to nuzzles your shoulder. “I got ya.” 

[rottencherrypie]

R-18+; Stress Relief (Sub!Thorin x Dom!Reader)

Summary - Thorin is stressed, you help him destress.

Warnings - Smut, language, Thorin pleading, whimpering (Thorin), handjob, male genitalia (Thorin), bodily fluids.

Pronouns & POV - None, third-person-ish

Word Count - 1,200+

A/N - I believe I wrote this as a birthday gift a few years ago for a dear friend of mine (*cough* *cough* buy The Dragons of Thaveil by Joy Rogers *cough*), I cannot remember if I posted it or not. Pure smut beneath the cut.

Read on AO3 Read on Wattpad

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

The familiar tune of deep, breathy moans danced across the dimly lit walls. The soft crackle of nearby fire nearly masked the squelching click that danced alongside the well-known harmony of the dwarven king's pathetic pleads.

A harmony that began to grow louder as the sturdy weight of his head sunk back into your chest, the lids of his sapphire eyes glued shut as he began to quiver.

A faint sheen of sweat glistened upon his forehead, his brows knitting together as his lips fell open. "Fuck." He gasped, feeling a familiar knot begin to weave within the pit of his stomach.

As his grip upon reality began to fade away, his grasp upon your forearm tightened - his nails embedding themselves into your skin with a bitter sting earning a hiss to grace your lips.

"Careful-" The heat of your breath caressed his ear, making a shiver roam down his spine. How cute. You could see why he enjoyed getting that reaction from you. "-or I will have to stop."

A pitiful whimper escaped his lips the moment the words slipped through yours, a whimper he attempted to mask with a groan, but it was no use - he was putty in your gentle hands.

"Please!" The word wavered upon his lips as he sucked in another shaky inhale, the muscles within his lower stomach clenching together tighter as your hand began to slow. "Please don't stop."

"Oh?" Your hand came to a halt at his plea, the corners of your lips curving upwards into a mischievous smile as the dwarven king began to whine. "And why shouldn't I?" You hummed, the heat of your breath grazing his neck. Your thumb slowly circled the aching tip of his cock as you awaited his response.

"Please, Y/N," Mindlessly bucking himself against your hand, his thick brows tightly knit together as his thrusts grew more desperate. "I need you." "Then beg for me."

The lids of his eyes slowly opened before he blinked up at you in shock, his sapphire-colored eyes completely glazed over with lust as he laid there within your grasp - mouth agape at your bold command. 

"Well? Go on then." A hiss escaped his thin lips as your loose grip upon his throbbing cock tightened, allowing you to feel every racing beat of his heart throughout it. "Beg."

"Please, Y/N." He groaned, sucking in the bitter winter air through his teeth as your hand slowly glid up his cock - torturously slow - before gliding down to the base. "Please don't stop...I'll be good."

The slight stinging tear of his nails escaping your soft skin allowed another low hiss to fall out of your lips. "I will do anything you want just, please-" The word stumbled upon his lips as he choked out a stuttered whine, his temporarily loose grip tightened around your arm as the muscles within his abs began to flutter. "Please let me cum. Please."

As the final whimpered word left his lips, your palm left his aching cock for a moment - making a pathetic whine echo dance throughout the quiet room before curling back around it again.

The weight of his head sunk further back into your chest as your hand slowly slid up and down his cock, gradually increasing in speed as your opposite hand roamed his toned body. Leaving a trail of quivering muscles behind as your smooth skin continued upon the lower path of his body.

"You look so pretty." The vibrations of your purred words sent another shiver down his spine and made his muscles tense further. Your hot breath caressed his neck as your movements gradually grew quicker, his hips mindlessly bucking upwards to match your touch as the lids of his sapphire eyes squeezed shut again.

"That's what you are, aren't you? My pretty boy." The blur of brunette hair bobbing made the smirk plastered upon your soft lips widen. The movement of your hand quickened as you traced mindless patterns with the opposite hand upon his lower abs, feeling the muscles tense alongside the familiar burn of his nails embedding into your arm again.

"Y/N, I can't-" "Then don't." You breathed into his neck, your lips hovering a breath above one of the most sensitive parts on him. "Cum for me. Now."

The entire weight of his head leaned into your chest, nearly knocking you into the bed, as the muscles within his lower abs tensed for a final time before releasing. A slew of whined moans fell out of his gaping lips as his body trembled against your touch as white, hot ropes gushed over your hand.

The dwarven king succumbed to pleasure as wave after wave wracked throughout his once tense body; the stresses of reality faded away as the only thing he could think of was the next wave ready to whisk him off again.

As he drifted away within the endless sea of pleasure, you began to press gentle kisses upon the crook of his neck - enjoying every pathetic whimper that slipped out of his parted lips due to it.

"There you go, my love. I've got you." You hummed against his neck as your grasp upon his softened cock released, earning a displeased whimper from him. "I've got you."

The pair of you stayed there in silence for a few moments as you admired your lover's trembling body within your sturdy arms. The smooth tips of your clean fingers softly traced every indent the golden hues put on display as the beautiful image of your lover safe within your grasp, in such a manner, burned into your mind.

"Thank you, amrâlimê." He breathed, the corners of his thin lips curving upwards into a blissful grin as he freed your arm from his grasp. The tips of his calloused fingers grazing over the small wounds he caused as an unspoken apology.

"Do you feel better now, Thorin?" The tone of your voice softened as you moved your clean hand up to cradle the side of his face. "Much." He hummed as he turned his head, pressing a soft kiss into your palm before allowing you to cradle his cheek.

"Now...about that anything-" "No." He stated as he lifted his head from your soft embrace, the bed creaking under his shifting weight as he slid off the bed.

"You do not know what I was going to ask for!" A low chuckle echoed throughout the room as the dwarven king stumbled to the bathroom only to return as quickly as he had left. "We shall discuss your payment another day, but for now-" He began, his calloused hands softly wiping away the white ropes that covered your hand.

"-I want to relax like a wise person has been nagging me to." His beard softly tickled your cheek as he pressed a kiss upon it, tossing the towel aside to be dealt with later before laying beside you upon the soft furs.

The sturdy weight of his head once again rested into your chest as you two lay there in peaceful silence. Not needing to speak a single word of your love for another as the warmth within the air expressed it more than any word could ever say.

──────

"I am not a nag." "Yes, you are." The king muttered, raising his head from your chest. "But you are my nag."

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[oneoftheextras]

masterlist | got a request?

paring: luis serra x gn!reader

request: “less than 1,000? hmmmm….perhaps a super sweet domestic morning drabble with Luis and the reader?"

words: 994 (under 1k lets gooo)

'warnings': gender neutral reader, fluff, slight flirting

want a handwritten letter from a character?

"5 more minutes..." Luis groaned, the natural timbre of his voice deeper than usual due to the untimely disturbance of his sleep.

His arm was curled around your waist as he held you against his chest, the short coarse hair of his stubble prickling your bare shoulder.

"I can't!" you attempted to wiggle out of his grip the way you had been for at least the last 30 minutes, "I have to work," you aimed to bargain with a man who had decided your time was better spent cuddling.

When you started to slip from his grasp he held on tighter, pulling you back into him and nuzzling his face into your neck.

"Luis, please-" you whined with a lint of a giggle, "-you work from home, that means you can stay in bed with me all day." Luis' voice was slightly muffled due to his mouth being smoothed against your skin.

Your alarm sounded for a second time - your final snooze warning. "Seriously, I have to get up," you nudged him away from you and he reluctantly let go.

For as dramatic as he was being, he knew that he couldn't make you late to logging in for your shift.

You gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and slipped out of the covers, his arm that was draped over you falling softly onto the mattress that was still warm from your presence.

"It is torture to be without you, mi amor," his voice holding a lint of sarcasm as he veiled his forehead with his arm, mimicking a damsel in distress.

The eye roll you gave him was paired with a smile that only he could bring out of you, "I'm sure you'll survive," was the last comment you got in before you entered the bathroom.

Although he was out of your sight you still heard the faint call of "I'm not sure, I think it might be fatal," from the bedroom. You shook your head at his theatrics and turned the faucet of the shower towards you, and finding the perfect temperature to start your morning routine.

Despite being, quite literally, held back; you weren't running late for work which surprised you. With the scent of your body wash fresh on your skin you descended the creaky stairs of your home, now full dressed and ready for the day, with the location of the kitchen counter in your mind as your workstation.

The moment you stepped into the room; the cold of the stone flooring seeping through your socks and ambushing your feet that longed for the absent warmth of the shower again; the waft of breakfast hit your senses.

With the morning sun creeping through the large windows and creating a warm orange glow in the otherwise bright room, you saw Luis: standing over the stove in nothing but his socks and a frilly red apron you had bought him last Christmas.

"Ah there's the love of my life," he turned his head towards you slightly without taking his eyes off of what he was cooking, the cigarette that was wedged behind his ear swayed from the movement.

The surprise of seeing him out of bed had worn off and you were able to sit down at the counter and open your laptop. Unfortunately, the way your kitchen had been built meant that you had to have your back to him, but you could still hear him working away behind you.

"In the mood to break health codes today, are we?" you tease at his nakedness, "What can I say? You make me want to misbehave," he quipped, and you didn't need to be looking at him to know he was wiggling his eyebrows and giving you a cheeky grin.

It's a good thing you didn't turn to face him because suddenly his lips were against your temple and a mug of coffee was being gently placed down on the counter, next to your laptop that was slowly waking up.

As he retracted his head to continue what he was doing, you swivelled on your seat so you could watch him.

"You're in a good mood this morning," you commented, shamelessly admiring him as he worked. "Despite being so rudely awakened as well!" he opened his mouth after he spoke to give you a dramatic shocked expression.

"What did you do? What's broken?" you folded your arms across your chest and waited for the devastating news he was about to deliver that would explain his behaviour.

"Only my heart at these painful accusations", he had started to plate up what he was cooking, but still managed to split his attention evenly between that and you.

You continued to stare at him as though he would buckle under your gaze and tell you everything, but he held strong.

He set down the plate in front of you and the smell hit you even more than before as the steam rose from the dish. "My favourite!" you exclaimed and looked at him with a happy grin.

He handed you your cutlery and gestured for you to eat - "What did I do to deserve this?" you asked, cutting into your breakfast.

He slipped his arms around your waist and rested his head into the crook of your neck, giving it a small kiss, "Just continuing to be the best thing in my life-" he pulled his arms away to let you eat, but made sure to give you another kiss on the top of your head "-I wanted to remind you of how much you mean to me,".

You were about to reply when a ding came from your computer, notifying you it join your morning meeting. Clicking 'join' you quickly put your hand over your camera, remembering that Luis was still only wearing an apron, you waved for him to move out of view - and you watched the man you love leave the room with a wink you'd come to adore.

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[zablife]

Pretty When You Cry

Summary: Tommy likes to give you pleasure to the point of pain for one specific goal, to watch you cry.

Author's Note: For @jomarch-wannabe 350 follower celebration. Inspired by Lana Del Rey's "Pretty When You Cry." Congrats, darl!

Warnings: 🔞, dom Tommy, bondage, overstimulation, crying kink

Outside your window, all the pretty stars were shining in the sky. Inside, there was a darkness in Tommy's crystalline blue eyes as he teased and tortured little whimpers and moans from your exhausted body. "How much more can you take, love?” he whispered at your ear, but you couldn’t answer too far gone to tell. 

Your full lips parted, tongue darting out to moisten your parched mouth as your chest heaved for breath. You tugged slightly against the silk ties at your wrists, Tommy watching you carefully from above, enchanting you with promises of more. Whether or not you could withstand it was the question. Would you call out your safe word to him or allow him to continue to the point you knew he loved most? Give him the ultimate pleasure he desired?

He ran the back of his hand along your ribs, feeling your breath rise and fall against his knuckles before turning his palm against your hip and forcing you back down to the mattress. “You can take it,” he coaxed, but the sweetness had gone from his voice, raw need replacing his earlier gentleness. 

His large fingers slipped between your slick folds as you gasped, “I can’t do it…I can’t.” Your head lolled from side to side on the soft pillow Tommy had placed beneath your delicate neck at the start of the evening, locks splayed out beneath you. The tendrils were now stuck to your forehead and neck with sweat after hours of him sending you over the edge of bliss, asking for just one more little death...and that's what each felt like, a tiny piece of you leaving with every quaking breath. He was the greediest lover you’d ever had, demanding to see your toes curl and your thighs quiver until you were reduced to tears. 

It was one night three years ago when he realized he held this power over you. Forcing your legs open and lapping at your swollen clit for more, he’d become so intoxicated at the view of you shaking and crying with your final release, it had sent him into his own powerful orgasm without so much as a touch from you. “You’re the girl of my dreams,” he proclaimed, watching the salty tears bathe your cheeks as you writhed on the bed, completely overstimulated.

He knew how to achieve it with perfect precision now... if you were willing. Some nights you called out and he was forced to stop, but tonight you bit down hard on your lip, enduring the bombardment of overwhelming pleasure just for him. “You alright sweetheart?” he teased in a low rumble that made your insides turn to jelly.

“Mmm-hmm,” you managed in a pathetic mewl, lifting your head, eyelids fluttering to barely contain what he knew would surely break free in seconds. 

As the pad of his thumb traced tight circles over your clit he watched your blown out pupils. “Going to give me everyhing I want? Will you be my good girl?” he begged. And you gulped as you tried to hold it in.

“Yes, Tommy, I’m you’re girl...always your good girl,” you mumbled as pleasure fogged your brain. Finally you gave yourself over to the sensation, rocking your hips against his palm. 

“That's it, darling. Take what you need," he goaded you, watching your face contort in pleasure bordering on pain. He was the devil, tempting you to push yourself beyond what you were capable of. The vibrations of his voice hummed within you and your body tensed suddenly. Your back arched and Tommy leaned in to taste you, sucking your little bud to make the feeling even more intense. “No, no, no” you whimpered, but it was too late as the damn broke within you. You were cumming in waves that made you hot then cold, body practically convulsing under his touch. Crossing the line into torture, it was too much. Hot tears flowed from your eyes and trickled down the apples of your rosy cheeks, flushed a bright pink from overexertion. 

Tommy looked up at you, mouth agape in silent appreciation. “F-fuck” he stuttered at your beauty, before coming to untie you and collect you in his arms. He pressed kisses to your temple and down to the corners of your mouth as you collapsed against him, praising you. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

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

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[therealmsdelulu]

Candlelit smiles ☆

♪ "Candlelit smile that we both share," -Duvet by boa

Warnings ☆: Heavy use of the word love, 2 sexual innuendos, but besides that just fluff.

W.C ☆:500.

Candle light illuminated the living room of Spencer's apartment. His head in your lap as the two of you sat on the couch and you gently stroked his hair. A movie playing in the background that was long forgotten by the two of you.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, being in the other's presence was more than enough for you. You cherished all your time that you spent together, each moment engraved carefully into your memories. Your hands gently running through Spencer's messy brown curls as you admired him.

"Did you know touch is the primary way people communicate intimacy in romantic relationships?" Spencer asked, looking up at you, as you continues to gently run your fingers through his hair.

"I did not know that" you smiled and softly kissed his forehead."But that's why I have you, my personal google," you playfully teased

"Did you know, with over 85% of the search market share, Google is undoubtedly the most popular search engine?" he inquired.

"Maybe I should start paying you for all this information," you joked.

"I think I could settle for a kiss” he said with a sheepish smile and you chuckled before leaning down and littering small kisses on every square inch of his face causing him to giggle quietly as you continued your kiss attack.

You extended your arms to his sides and began tickling him smiling in amusement as he squirmed in your arms, desperately trying to escape your tickle torture.

"Please y/n," he begged and pleaded but you were relentless with your tickles. "I'll do anything, just please stop,"

"Say you love me," you demanded playfully.

"I love you y/n," he spoke in between laughter and you tickled him even harder.

"I really want to help you out, but you're going to have to do a lot better than that," you said increasing the intensity of your tickles.

"I love you, i love you so much, and if you loved me as much as i love you, you'd stop torturing me" he suggested and you carefully considered his words before deciding to stop your attacks.

"You're lucky I love you," you said with a small eye roll and leaned down to give him a soft kiss.

"Did you know that tickling a woman is illegal in Virginia?" Spencer informed you. "But unfortunately for you we're not in Quantico," he said with a small smirk before tickling you. You laughed uncontrollably desperately trying to escape Spencer's persistent hands. You squirmed until you ended up falling off the couch, Spencer landing on top of you.

"That was not a fair fight," you claimed and Spencer pressed all his weight down on top of you, burying his face in your chest.

"How so?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled.

"Look at your hands compared to mine, they're so much larger and our fingers are so much longer, those tickles are lethal," you joked and he laughed in amusement.

"You've never complained about my long fingers before," he said with a smirk and you playfully flicked his forehead.

"Get off me," you groaned.

"Fine, I like you better on top anyways,"

[fanfictionalraven]

Piece by Piece Pt. 10

Title: Piece By Piece Pt. 10

Summary: The aftermath of being taken by the angels.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, Original Character

Word Count: 2,937

Warnings: Vomitting, angst

Author’s Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.

Read Piece by Piece Pt. 9 here.

Dean continues to drive through the day, stopping for food and gas. He tells Sam what Zachariah had told him and why they’d created the alternate reality. Later in the afternoon, M.K. falls asleep spread across the front seat between yourself and Dean. Her head is resting on his leg and her legs on yours. Dean’s fingers are running through her curls gently as you run a hand over her calf.

All of a sudden, you feel the nausea start up out of nowhere and groan, laying your head back against the seat. You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to fight back the sick feeling. The car was currently flying down a back road in the middle of nowhere, no bathrooms in sight.

“Y/N? You okay?” Dean asks, glancing over at you. You shake your head slowly.

“Pull over,” you tell him, eyes still closed. Your main goal right now was to not throw up all over his car. You can feel the car steadily slow down and you carefully push M.K.’s legs off of your own.

Before the car even comes to a complete stop, you clamber out the door. You manage to get a few feet away before your lunch decides to make its reappearance. You hit your knees, bracing yourself against the ground. Two hands are on you a second later, one holding your hair and the other rubbing soothing circles into your back.

Once your stomach is empty, you sit up. Dean hands you a rag and a bottle of water he’d found in the car and you thank him before wiping at your mouth. You unscrew the lid on the bottle and drink about half of it before sighing. Your eyes meet Dean’s and you find his full of that same concern he’d always had for you.

“Are you really pregnant?” He asks. You nod, watching his face. “Did you know before?”

“I’m three months now. I’ve known for about two,” you confess, your voice raw from your previous heaving. He frowns and shakes his head quickly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. You sigh and run the rag across your sweat-damp forehead.

“You haven’t been home since Valentine’s Day, Dean. And I wasn’t going to tell you over the phone,” you tell him. His face falls as the realization hits.

“Valentine’s Day. That’s what you were going to tell me,” he says. You nod and he hangs his head with a sigh. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Sorry?” You ask, panic rising up in your chest. He looks back at you and his eyes widen.

“No!! Not – not sorry about the baby. I could never – I mean, it’s really terrible timing but – that would be like regretting M.K. or being with you and – there’s no way I could ever do that,” he says, reaching out and brushing his fingers against your cheek. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately. Things have been crazy and when Cas showed up at the house like that – I thought staying away from you would keep you safer. I guess I was wrong.”

“Well it wasn’t exactly like we spent the last three weeks being tortured,” you start. “Penthouse apartment. Fancy private school.”

“Pregnant yoga and no caffeine?” He asks, trying not to laugh. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Yea, that was the torture,” you say. “And don’t go getting any wild ideas.” He laughs now and helps you to your feet.

“So was the nausea this bad with M.K.?” He asks. You shake your head as the two of you make your way back to the car.

“I actually got lucky with M.K. I was never sick. This time around though,” you trail off and sigh. Dean nods and presses a kiss to your temple before opening the passenger side door for you.

“Well it’s your turn to get some rest,” he says. You look into the car and see that M.K. is now laid out across the backseat, curled into Sam’s side. You smile and slide in, Dean closing the door behind you. He comes around and gets back in. “C’mon,” he says, patting the seat between you. You lay across the front seat, your head coming to rest on his leg. He lays his arm across your side. You quickly drift off to sleep as his fingers brush lightly against your stomach.

You wake up sometime later, groggy and confused. You don’t remember moving from the car to a bed yet here you were on a comfortable mattress with a blanket draped over you. Sitting up slowly, you look around. It was an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. Willing yourself to remain calm, you push yourself up from the bed.

The cool air meets your legs and you look down to find them bare. You’re only wearing a grey t-shirt that you immediately recognized as one of Dean’s. A pair of jeans are sitting folded on the dresser across the room. They look brand new you realize as you pull them on quickly. A perfect fit. You sigh, thankful for the familiar denim after three weeks of wearing nothing but dresses and skirts.

Opening the door, you’re greeted by a familiar scent. The smell of fresh cooked bacon wafts up the staircase to you. You can hear M.K. giggling as you slowly make your way down to the rest of the strange house. Following the sound and scent, you find the kitchen. An older man in a vest and baseball cap is standing over the stove, frying up the bacon. M.K. is seated at the table behind him, a wide grin spread across her face.

“Momma!! You’re awake!!” She exclaims. The man looks at you and smiles warmly. “Look!! Grandpa Bobby is real!!” Bobby. Of course. The man who was like a father to Dean and Sam. Any panic you had been feeling quickly subsides. You knew this was a man you could trust even if you’d never actually met him.

“I don’t know why she’s calling me that,” Bobby mumbles, a blush creeping into his cheeks. He turns, setting a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her. You hear a door open and a moment later Dean comes into the room, wiping grease from his hands.

“Hey!! Morning, Gorgeous,” he says, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “How you feeling?” He asks. You shrug your shoulders slightly.

“Confused. Hungry,” you tell him. He laughs and pulls you to a chair at the table. You sit down and Bobby sets a plate in front of you as well. “Thank you.” He smiles and nods. Dean’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder.

“Well since your actually conscious now,” Dean says, winking down at you. “This is Bobby. Bobby, this is Y/N my…” He stops and you look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Ummm.”

“Girlfriend, Dean. She’s your girlfriend,” Sam says from the adjacent room. You look over and find him sitting at a desk, several books open in front of him. M.K. giggles as she takes a bite of bacon.

“Just girlfriend?” Bobby asks. You look at him quickly and he smiles, glancing at your left hand. Your eyes widen and shoot to the diamond ring and silver band still on your finger.

“You changed my clothes but didn’t take these off?” You ask, looking up at Dean. He rubs the back of his neck and stammers.

“Well — Ummm — I just thought — you might like to keep them,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“If this is a proposal it isn’t a very good one,” you tell him. His eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly.

“No!! I’m not — I mean, not that I wouldn’t — but this isn’t —,” he stops. Sam starts to snigger and Dean shoots a glare at him. You smile and reach over, taking Dean’s hand.

“Calm down. I’m kidding,” you tell him. He smiles now and squeezes your hand.

“Dean,” Sam says, his voice shifting from its early teasing tone. You all look over and find Cas standing in the middle of the room. Dean drops your hand and immediately moves to stand in front of you. Bobby makes his way around the table, shielding M.K.

“The hell do you want? You swore you’d keep them out of this,” Dean says, pointing an accusatory finger at Cas. The angel furrows his brow and shakes his head.

“I did not know of Zachariah’s plan. If I had, I would have warned you. I do not wish harm on any of you. Especially Y/N, Mary Katherine, or your unborn child,” he says. Dean’s hands clench at his sides.

“What do you want, Cas?” He asks.

“I came to apologize to all of you,” he says, glancing at you as well. Dean crosses his arms and shakes his head. “I didn’t know, Dean. I swear. I am sorry.” The room is quiet as you glance at each of the men. M.K. stands from her chair and takes a step around Bobby.

“I forgive you,” she says, starting towards him. Bobby’s hand shoots out, landing on her shoulder. She shrugs him off and takes a few more steps.

“Mary Katherine,” you call to her quickly. She stops dead in her tracks. You very rarely ever use her full name like that and it always gets her attention. But she isn’t looking at you now with the pitiful look she always does when she’s in trouble. She’s almost surprised.

“You always say when someone apologizes and they really mean it that we have to be the bigger person and forgive them even if we don’t want to,” she says. You stare at her as she continues towards Cas. He looks down at her, curiously. “Do you really mean it?”

“I — I do. I’m sorry, Mary Katherine,” he says. She smiles and wraps her arms around his legs.

“M.K. I’m only Mary Katherine when I’m in trouble,” she tells him. You all stare in disbelief as a small smile spreads across the angel’s face. He reaches down and pats her head awkwardly before she lets him go and returns to her breakfast. Dean sighs and shakes his head.

“They’re staying here for now with Bobby. If anything happens to them again, Cas, I swear there isn’t a force on this earth that will stop me from killing every last one of you,” he tells him. Cas nods once then disappears. You look down at your plate. There’s a tense silence before Dean breaks it with a chuckle. “Why’d you have to go and raise her to be such a good person?” Dean asks, looking back at you.

“What do you mean we’re staying here with Bobby?” You ask, ignoring his question as you look up at him. He sighs, as though he’d been dreading this conversation, then kneels down next to you.

“I gotta keep you two — you three safe,” he says, his hand reaching towards your stomach. You swat at his hand quickly and he arches an eyebrow at you.

“For how long?” You ask. He shrugs.

“However long it takes,” he says. You stare at him and shake your head slightly.

“We can’t just stay here, Dean. We’ve got lives to get back to. Lives we’ve already missed three weeks of. I may not even have a job to go back to but she has to go back to school,” you tell him.

“I can’t leave you unprotected. Bobby can keep you safe while I’m out trying to stop all this,” he says, rising to his feet. You frown and look up at him.

“No offense to Bobby but Cas just came and went like it was nothing. You really think an army of angels couldn’t do the same if they wanted us bad enough?” You ask, standing from your chair. Dean crosses his arms over his chest, determined. You glance over at M.K. to find she’s watching you both closely.

Sighing, you leave the kitchen and quickly make your way back up the stairs to the bedroom you’d been in earlier. You close the door and lean against it for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. Your phone is sitting on the table next to the bed. You make your way across the room and grab it, quickly finding Lily’s name in your contacts. It rings twice before your best friend’s voice comes over the line.

“Hey!! Didn’t expect to hear from you. How’s the vacation?” She asks. You stare at the wall in front of you.

“Va – vacation?” You ask, your voice trembling. You hear Lily laugh on the other end.

“Yea? Dean whisked you two away suddenly for a family vacation. You left me a voicemail saying you were gonna be gone for a while,” she says. You fall onto the edge of the bed, your hand over your mouth. “Y/N? You okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m – ummm – just checking in,” you tell her, fighting back tears. After a brief conversation, you set the phone aside again. Laying back on the bed, you run your hands over your face. You hear someone walking up to the door and it opens then closes again. A second later, the bed dips beside you. “I called Lily. Everyone thinks we’re on vacation apparently.” You look over at Dean and he nods slightly. “But we have to get back Dean. She has to get back to school.”

“Your lives are more important, Y/N,” he says. You sigh and sit up.

“The only difference in us staying here is that Bobby is in danger. And I am not going to be the reason he gets killed. I’m not,” you tell him. “We’re going home.”

“Well I don’t know how you’re getting there cause I’m not taking you,” he says. You look at him quickly.

“That’s kidnapping, Dean,” you say. He rolls his eyes, rising from the bed. “Fine. I’ll ask Sam or Bobby to do it.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” he says. You stare at him-, your anger building quickly.

“Then we’ll take the bus because we are not staying,” you tell him defiantly. He shakes his head as he watches you.

“I can’t let you leave,” he says. “That’s my daughter and you’re carrying my baby and you’re my –.” He stops short and you look back at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Your what, Dean? You can’t even say it!! That’s what the real torture was, these past three weeks. Hearing you say that you love me knowing I’ll never hear it again now!! You don’t even tell M.K. that you love her!!” You snap at him. “So don’t try and give me some crap about how you want to keep us safe because you care about us or we’re your family. You want to keep us safe to keep your conscious clear. So, no thank you. We don’t need your protection. We’re leaving.” You turn for the door quickly.

“And the baby?” Dean asks, his voice unnaturally calm. You freeze, your hand on the handle.

“I raised M.K. for 10 years without you. What’s another one?” You ask, your words biting. You pull the door open and march down the stairs. Three pairs of eyes land on you as you step into the kitchen, Sam having joined the other two now. “Would you be willing to take us to the closest bus stop, Sam?” He frowns and looks down at the table. You nod and turn to the other man. “Bobby, please?” He sighs and nods, rising from the table. “M.K. tell Uncle Sam bye. We’re leaving.”

“But Momma,” she starts.

“Mary Katherine,” you snap. She hangs her head and jumps down from the chair. She slowly walks over to Sam and he wraps her up in a tight hug.

“Bye Uncle Sam,” she tells him quietly. He kisses her forehead then lets her go.

“Bye M.K.,” he says. You put your hand on her back, guiding her to the door as Bobby picks up the keys to his truck.

“What about Daddy?” She asks, looking up at you. There’s a sadness in her eyes as though she knows what’s happening.

“I’m right here, Baby girl,” he says. You turn and find Dean standing on the steps about halfway down. She runs up to him and he picks her up in his arms. “Listen to your mom, kid.”

“Aren’t you coming home too?” She asks, her voice thick with tears. You frown and avert your eyes quickly. Dean kisses her hair and sets her down.

“Be good,” he says, avoiding her question. She comes back down the stairs, dejected, and you take her hand. You glance up at Dean and find him staring at the floor. Bobby opens the door and you pull M.K. from the house quickly.

Dean squeezes his eyes closed when the door closes then sits down on the step beneath him. Sam comes into front hall and leans against the door frame, crossing his arms. Dean runs his hands over his face and lets out a sigh.

“That was a stupid plan,” Sam says. Dean shrugs slightly, looking back at his brother.

“Worked didn’t it?” He asks. Sam shakes his head in disbelief.

“How’d you know she’d leave?” He asks. Dean smiles a little and looks at his hands.

“I love her. You think I don’t know what would piss her off enough to make her leave me?” He asks. Sam shakes his head again and goes back into Bobby’s study, leaving Dean sitting on the steps, staring at the silver band that was still on his left hand.

Read Piece by Piece Pt. 11 here.

[forlorn-crows]

kindly asking for either:

fluffy swissraindrop. dew, near his heat, being very clingy and emotional and his boyfriends are crazy protective

or raindrop sappy sex. please i’m begging i’ll do anything

rickyyyy~ i have some cutie boys for youuu (sorry this took me so long)

i trans-ed dew instead for you as well, hope you enjoy some massage w/ a side of cockwarming!

“You gonna fall asleep on me, water boy?” Dew chides in a hushed, amused tone. Rain cracks an eye open, peeking at the fire ghoul perched above him. He rolls his hips lazily, grinning when Dew’s breath hitches and he has to bite back a moan. 

“No, but you feel so nice honeydew,” Rain sighs. “Make me feel so nice.” He hums as the fire ghoul digs his warm, oil-slicked fingers into the meat of his palm. “Yeah, like that.” Rain’s eyebrows twitch upwards when Dew pulls on each of his fingers, no doubt stiff and locked up from their torturously long pre-tour rehearsal just hours earlier. He makes a little noise at the back of his throat when Dew brushes a kiss over the back of his knuckles, and he can feel Rain’s cock kick where it’s buried in his cunt. 

“You deserve it, working so hard.” Rain feels special that he’s the recipient of so many of Dew’s genuine compliments behind closed doors. They’ll run off his tongue honey-sweet into the crook of his neck, against his lips, into the space between them as Dew brushes hair off his forehead, anywhere and everywhere Dew can place them. Now, it’s said next to the tips of his fingers as Dew squeezes, stretches, and massages, the slightly rosy scent filling the room as it’s warmed under his touch. 

“Thank you for pampering me,” Rain says genuinely, closing his eyes again. Dew continues his languid pace and moves down the water ghoul’s forearm, running his thumb from wrist to inner elbow, with just enough pressure to make Rain groan. 

Dew pumps some more oil onto his hands. “How’s that, raincloud?” He spreads it onto his skin, making it shine like cool gray satin. He shifts a little in Rain’s lap, perhaps intentionally, perhaps not. 

“Oh, perfect,” Rain groans. 

Dew smiles. “Good.” The fire ghoul massages every last fiber of muscle along his arm, up and down until it starts to go limp under his grasp. He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he places that arm down on the bed and moves to the other; could be five minutes, could be fifteen, hell, it could be fifty. But the time doesn’t matter when the afternoon sun is streaming through the leaded glass, creating a warm patch on the bed, and there’s a water ghoul purring quietly beneath him. 

Dew asks him again when he sees a telltale flutter of Rain’s lashes. “Sure you aren’t falling asleep?” He adds another roll of his hips for good measure, biting back a laugh when Rain snuffles a moan and snaps his eyes open. 

“Satanas, Dew . . .” He cranes his head to look at the place they’re joined, groaning when he sees those wet lips still stretched over the base of his dick. He drops his head back to the bed with a thud.

“Haven’t gone soft on me yet, though,” the fire ghoul teases, rubbing a long line up Rain’s forearm. 

“Fuck, how could I?”

Dew hums and traces another line up his arm, kicking up the temperature of his hands by a degree or two. “You flatter me.” Rain groans at the warmth, long and luxurious, curling his toes and thumping his tail against the sheets. Dew’s face miraculously doesn’t show it, but his clit throbs at the sound. He’s mainly ignored his own desires up until this point, but the longer they go—and the more noise Rain makes—the more difficult it becomes. He rolls his neck and stifles his sigh.

“Will you—hmm—will you rub my chest, too?” 

“Anything you want, Rainy.” Dew lays his arm down and squirts a copious amount of oil into his hands, warming it in his palms before cheekily letting it run through his fingers and drip onto Rain’s torso. The fire ghoul lets a small noise escape his mouth as one particular bead of oil trails down Rain’s sternum and heads south towards his naval. It gets caught in the start of his happy trail and soaks into the skin. Dew’s mouth nearly goes dry.

Dew brushes his fingers along Rain’s skin, goosebumps forming in their wake as he rubs in the oil. Rain pulls a pillow under his neck, propping himself up so he can watch him work with lidded eyes. Hands smooth over his pecs, his collarbone, dip down to his ribs and the curve of his hips. Eventually, they venture back up to his chest, palms flat over his nipples and fingers pressing into his muscle. 

Rain's breath quickens after a few minutes as he watches Dew knead him there. He lets out an undignified whine, covering the fire ghoul's hands with his own. 

"Gonna make me cum like this, " he pants, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

Dew stares at him. Lets his mouth fall open. Rolls his hips painfully slow when he feels Rain’s cock kick inside him. "Do you want to cum like this?" he asks quietly.

"Hn," Rain groans, eyes fluttering shut. “Feels so good, I—I can’t help it.” It’s Dew’s turn to groan as he braces himself against the water ghoul’s chest, rising and falling slowly on his dick. “Fuck, yeah, Dew—please.”

“Hold me,” Dew breathes, giving into the heat pooling in his core. “So I don’t slip, hold me—” Rain grips his wrists tight, anchoring him to his chest as he bounces in earnest. 

“I’ve got you,” Rain groans. “Ah, let me have you.”

“All yours,” Dew lets himself moan. “Fucking yours.”

[xxsycamore]

𝙔𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙎𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 ( SEBASTIAN X READER )

↬ 🍜 Putting food in your stomach makes your cramps flare up, and you refuse to eat. Sebastian can't have that.

Sebastian x Reader• rating: G • tags: Menstruation; Period Cramps; Fluff; Blankets; Food; Cooking • wordcount:  995 • masterlist

a/n: This one goes to the fellow period-sufferers who can eat little to nothing the first two days 😭 If you happen to suffer from cramps and you want your favorite ikevamp suitor comforting you in their own unique way, may I also offer: Napoleon, Comte, Mozart, Theo, Leonardo💕(All fics in this series share the same opening scene!)

It’s another beautiful day at the mansion, and the sun is continuing to shine brightly outside as afternoon settles in. Your list of chores is more than half-way done now, the morning was a productive one and you pat yourself on the back for pushing through at your usual pace, even if your period surprised you early this morning. Sleeves rolled up and armed with a feather duster, you march towards the lounge room to take care of another chore.

Specks of dust dance in the afternoon sun, windows wide open, as you complete your task little by little. Soon the sections left to dust decrease and you start to tire - a minor pain in your tummy appearing as well, as if to persuade you into taking a short break. You throw a look at the grandfather clock. You’ve been a busy bee; not even the distraction of dusting off some of Comte’s highly intriguing antiques couldn’t get you late on your own schedule.

You sit down at the spacious couch area, grab a throw pillow to hug, and fall on your side - shoe-covered feet juust hanging off the couch because it won’t be worth the effort of taking them off for just a minute or two of rest.

Uh-oh! The pain doesn’t go away and only gets worse instead. Suddenly moving as much as a millimeter equals signing a death warrant.

“Help” You whisper to yourself, clutching onto the throw pillow.

"I need you to eat something. Please."

You shake your head, curling up further onto yourself in silent protest of standing up to eat. You hate refusing Sebastian of all people. One reason is that you're familiar with his caring, warm side - you recognize that tone as he asks you to at least try the warm soup he's holding out to you.

A whiff of the delicious broth and your stomach waves the white flag, putting an end to the silent protest as it audibly announces it's hunger, by growling. Loudly. And you speak up before Sebastian does… Or before he resorts to something worse. You protectively place the pillow over your forehead, just to be cautious.

"I caaaan't, Sebas! Stop torturing me by waving your yummy soup in my face, it's not that I don't want to eat, it's that I can't!"

Sebastian lets out a low hum, straightening up again and placing the lid back on the tray.

"I understand now. Your period is upsetting your stomach."

You groan, dragging the pillow down so that it covers your face. He's ever so perceptive. A bit too much, even.

"Putting food in it makes my cramps flare up."

"Even if it's in little quantities?"

"…No. But I never know when to stop. Especially now that I'm hungry."

Another humming noise of calculation comes from the butler, and you prefer to warn him before his diamond mind comes up with a 'solution'.

"It's futile. I'll wait out the worst of it and then I'll eat. I promise?"

"I was actually thinking about how you said you feel guilty for not being able to finish your chores. Would you mind helping me with something small that I believe won't be a problem in your state?"

This blanket smells like Sebastian. Getting all cozied up in the chair by the kitchen counter, wrapped up in a blanket by no one other than Sebastian, you can't help but cheer up a little. It feels like being sick, but less sickness and more being taken care of. You were worried about the task you'll be presented with, but you doubt it can be that hard if he gets you all seated and comfy beforehand.

"I'm trying a set of new dishes for today's lunch. As you know, I hold our Masters' opinion in high regard and the food presented on their plates has to be impeccable."

And today of all days he has to cook by himself… you frown, raising your head from where it was nested in the blanket to offer your help. But Sebastian holds up a hand to signal letting him finish before you speak.

"I want you to do a round of taste-testing for me, nothing more, nothing less. Can you do that?"

You pause, understanding only just now your role. "I can, but… is my palate refined enough?"

"It is. Now, without further ado, open up."

With no room for complaints, the spoon is brought in front of your lips and you part them to let it in.

You've no idea what that's supposed to be, but it's delicious.

"They'll LOVE it."

"Are you sure? I think it has a bit too strong of a spicy aftertaste. Here, hold this and try the whole spoonful, I will bring you a drink."

You do as told, concentrating on the information registered by your taste buds. By the time Sebastian is back with a glass of water, you're done with your answer.

"Try adding a little more salt and it would be perfect."

"Right away." Like a magician doing a trick, Sebastian moves his hand over the pot and a pinch of salt is added. "Try again now."

"Mhm, that's better. What about the side dish?"

"It's here. Make sure to try all three garnishes. Then try this and this together. And then we'll decide on one of the two sauces I prepared, depending on which one compliments the dish best. Afterward, we'll proceed with the palate-cleansing salad from the five-course meal."

Your head spins with Sebastian's presentation as he brings multiple plates into your vision. He's so serious about this. It's impressive.

"They all look absolutely delicious already, Sebastian…okay, bring it on!"

Sebastian smiles, content with having a good helper like you.

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As you lift another spoonful towards your mouth, you fail to notice just how content he is, attributing it all to his efforts to fill the mansions' stomachs with yummy food. This is what all of this is about…right?

[cillianmurphysdimples]

GRACE

"Oh Grace, just hold me in your arms And let this moment linger." - Grace. (Paddy Reilly/Jim McCann/Frank & Sean O'Meara)

Tommy lay with his head on the pillow, staring at the ceiling above him. His lower body was hidden beneath the sheet, but his bare chest was exposed to the cold air of the room. He'd barely moved an inch the entire night. His left hand lay over his belly button while his right hand was beside his face on the pillow but had been utilised for a full packet of cigarettes in the dark hours that had come before. Now that light was shining into the room through the undressed window, he felt more alone than ever. He hadn't been back in the bed since her death until this moment, and he felt as empty as it was, even with Charles sleeping in the cot not five feet away. He could still smell her there - the scent of her skin on the sheets and her perfume in the air. He didn't know if it was supposed to feel this way, if he was supposed to have the longing in his gut and the ache in his heart in the way that he did. The losses he'd experienced before had not felt so cruel, nor cut so deep, despite the feelings he had for them. Grace's absence spelled so much more than they had, he considered. Without her, he was a husband without a wife; without her, Charlie was a boy without his mum; without her, he was a man who had sought out the one person who'd turned his world around only to now be without his prize at the end of the search.

He moved his right hand, resting the back of it against his forehead, and let his thumb rub gentle lines up and down between his furrowed brow. He missed her hands around his face, he missed when she would press her entire weight into his chest when they embraced, he missed her fingers beneath his chin to lift his head and steal the kisses she deserved. Why did it feel like he had so much of her still here, and yet she was nowhere to be found? Why did it still feel as though he might find her in another room if he dared to look? Why was he so broken in understanding that she was gone, but so hopeful he would open his eyes and find the nightmare was over and she was curled tightly into his side as she slept? The contradition in thoughts was angering to him and he hated himself for feeling so off kilter. He had to continue in a world without the one person he'd loved with the whole of his heart, with the child they had created, with the life they had build, and he didn't know how that was expected of him. He wondered why he hadn't paid more attention to John when Martha had passed - perhaps his observations of his little brother in those months would have given him tools to build himself a new way of life here.

He moved his hand on his stomach and closed his eyes at the sting in his heart that it was not the more delicated fingers of Grace's hand that lay on his flesh. Life was continuing whilst his was falling apart around his ears, and he had to continue with it, but he was a shell of himself without the flame that ignited him. The goosebumps on his skin puckered further as his mind tried to place Grace in the place of his own touch, and behind the close lids of his eyes hot tears began to build. His face tightened into a grimace as he allowed the pain to escape, something he couldn't do before now. The tears ran down his temples on either side, running a warm trail into the curves of his ears. He turned onto his side, curling into a small ball, and reached out for Grace's pillow. He pulled it tightly against his chest as the tears and pain turned to sobs. Guilt, grief, and never ending torturous anger racked through his body painfully. He pushed his nose into her pillow and breathed as deeply as the anguish would allow, screwing his eyes shut tighter as Grace's scent washed over him. It offered no comfort, but it lingered in his nose.

He calmed himself with remarkable control when he heard Charles stirring in the cot. He squeezed the pillow tightly for a final time before he knew his moment was gone, and it was time to present 'Thomas Shelby' to the world again. He laid the pillow back into it's rightful place, resting his hand on it for just a moment, before he forced himself from the bed. He sat on the edge, breathing deeply and wiping his face with the palms of his hands, the hands that now had Grace's smell against the skin. His boy needed him, and his own pain needed to be boxed and locked until such a time when he deemed it appropriate to feel it again - if he ever did.