#the way hes like curling downward a little to reach her lmao

[snomoscribbles]

LOOK AT THEM!!!! PERCEIVE THE BABIES I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!

For myself and my lovely friend @snomoscribbles

Nanui and Yana! Building their relationship has been so so fun and I love their dynamic, I'm hoping to write a series of fics about them!

Nanui helps Yana come out of her shell as she works through her traumas and regains her memories

[your-highnessmarvel]

cotton candy | s.riley

CHAPTER SEVEN

Pairing: Simon Riley aka Ghost x Original female character

Warnings: Nothing here, except language and ghost being a bitch and OC being a slut for him lmao. 

Chapter Summary: As Laura prepares for the mission that will put her a step towards home, she makes a dazzling realization. She might actually see Ghost’s face. 

A/N: Wow, this took forever. I am so sorry?????

Masterlist

Taglist: Open

Will be posting on AO3. IF ONLY I CAN FIGURE OUT HOW IT WORKS LMAO.

Chapter seven

He was blonde. I couldn’t get that out of my head, the way his sandy locks had turned a darker shade of honey under the water’s jet. His light eyelashes and his slightly darker brows. The blue of his eyes, the shade of a calm ocean tide. 

It was like staring in the mirror and not recognizing myself. Simon - that was his name - who could tear someone to pieces and take what he wanted from others and drain the blood from someone’s face with a simple look, was blonde. 

It was the one and only thing rattling the inside of my skull for the last two days. Not the fact that his fingers were skilled or one had been wedged between my thighs or that his mouth was soft and plump. Not that his body was perpetually on fire or that his teeth had left little half moons on the flesh of my shoulder. Or that he tasted like ash and something sweet. 

He was fucking blonde. 

I don’t know, honestly, what I had expected from Ghost - well, Simon. Maybe thick dark locks and black eyebrows to match with that awfully blank stare of his. Maybe even a light shade of chocolate brown. 

But not blonde.

It softened him, even if I knew what he was capable of. How strong he was. How fast, cunning, tactical he could be. The fact that his hair was just short strands, curling around his ears, and blonde! 

And not sunny, beach blonde. Not pastel yellow or close to white. He had a special kind of shade, somewhere between hot sand and honey coiling around my finger. 

I had only seen his hair for a very split second, distracted by the masterpiece of his body, but it had just stuck with me.

After Simon - oh, God his name was so sweet - and I’s encounter in the bathroom showers, I could barely bring myself to look at him. 

Yes, he’d culled the most luscious, lascivious sensations out of my skin, deep from within me, like a tide to the moon. But cumming for him, at his command, from his ministrations on my body, had felt like I was a marble dropped into water.

It was a failure to myself. 

Even if it had felt so good, so right, even if I’d initially ran and refused and been turned to putty in his hands. Even if he’d understood me so easily, so pathetically, and yet so perfectly - it was utter failure.

I needed to win. And I would.

Soap was walking me through the plans of this operation. The one they called Starlight. 

He’d been silent with me at training these past two days. Not silent silent, Soap wasn’t capable of being mute, but he was less chatty, less friendly. He kept a safe distance from me, as if I was riddled with the black plague and this was 1388. 

“Management isn’t roped in on this,” he said, going through his notes. We were sitting in the RV, night creeping and whispering around us with crickets and a far away, numb noise of a drone. “So don’t trust anyone. Keep your eyes behind your head.”

I snorted. 

“So to speak, pumpkin,” Soap muttered, head in his hands. I reached over and touched his elbow, summoning his gaze back to me.

His skin was soft, chiseled with hair, and he looked up between his fingers at me. 

“You doing okay?” I asked. 

I wasn’t blind. I’d seen the blue smudged under Soap’s eyes, the fatigue dragging Alejandro’s face downward, and even Gaz and Laswell were dragging their feet. This operation, this mission to catch an elusive criminal, was taking a toll on the team.

Soap’s mouth curved into a shy smile. “Yeah,” he said, yawning, poorly hiding it behind his hands. 

“Maybe we should sleep?” I suggested. 

For a moment, Soap just stared. We’d been at these plans for the better part of the night. No one had bothered showing back up after supper - some sort of ladies night happening at the bar that Gaz and Alejandro were really into. So Soap had thought it would be best to walk me through the plans, get me used to what I was supposed to do. 

But Soap was getting sleepy and grumpy, and the more questions I asked, the easier it was to get him angry. 

I moved my hand away, but he caught it, lightning quick. Slamming his hands onto my fingers and holding onto it. 

“Laura, I - I wanna ask you somethin’?” It came out as a question, but my head cocked with curiosity. His fingers were burning, wrapped tightly around mine, sitting numbly on the table. He bit the inside of his cheek. “What did Ghost do to you?”

I tried jerking my hand away, but Soap held on, bruising grip, forcing my entire arm to lay flat on the wood of the table. Although Soap let off some other kind of vibe, the goofy kid with a lopsided smile and an easy laugh, he was smart. He was the smartest person I’d ever met - and never let anything slip past him. 

Frowning, my breath almost knocked out of me, I said, “nothing.” As if I meant it. As if Ghost hadn’t actually done something to me.

My entire body lit up, flames licking up my sides, burning up to my cheeks, and Soap must have noticed because he grimaced and shook his head. 

“You won’t even look at him,” he continued. “Should... should I be concerned?”

“No.”

“Then why are you pulling your arm away?”

I fidgeted in my seat. “Soap, it’s no big deal.”

He laughed. The asshole actually laughed. “Then tell me.”

“No!”

“Are you a little prudish?”

I reached over with my other hand, my clumsy hand, and slapped him. And just at that moment, the door to the RV swung open, but I didn’t hear it, and continued slapping Soap clumsily on the side of the head. He laughed, barely evading my blows, holding me by my other hand. 

“You’re such a dick!” I exclaimed, grabbing onto that mohawk of his and trying to slam his head onto the table. 

I should’ve known I was not going to be satisfied with what came next.

I was yanked from the table, my hand snatched from Soap’s, and a pair of arms wrapped under my breasts, hoisting me up. I screeched, trying to kick Soap, but my assailant - and I had a good idea who it was - just pulled me right across the table, throwing Soap’s notes to the ground. 

I landed awkwardly onto the ground, butt first, heels scrambling on the carpeted floor of this fucking RV. I held onto Ghost’s forearms, nails digging into the fabric of his black hoodie. He hauled me up and onto my feet. 

I tried slapping Ghost, aiming my open palms over my head and at his masked face, but he just grunted and grabbed both wrists and trapped them between my chest and his. 

“Why are you assaulting my Sergeant?” he asked, his voice low, grunted through clenched teeth. 

Soap chuckled. 

“He called me... he called me prudish,” I spat back, trying to pull my wrists free but Ghost took a step towards me and I took one back. The edge of the counter came brushing against the base of my spine. Nice. Trapped again. 

Ghost was so immense in the tiny space of the RV, taking up most of my vision with the width of his shoulders and chest. 

I tried not to look into his eyes, into those baby blues, but he was just standing there. Looking.

So I did. I dragged my gaze up until he was piercing holes inside my face. 

“Well, you are,” he said, and I saw a glint in his eyes, as if this was amusing. I pulled but he held on. 

“No.”

“Prove it.” I turned, facing Soap, who’d just said that without humour, without a hint of a smile on his face.

I felt Ghost let out a chuckle against me. “She’d never,” he said. 

I opened my mouth to speak but Ghost’s hand shot out, grabbing my jaw painfully, holding my mouth open like a fish. I saw his eyes dart to my mouth, to my tongue. Then he dragged his gaze back to mine. “Whatever you’re about to say, save it.” He paused, watching me struggle to close my jaws. “Don’t tempt me,” he said. “Don’t tempt us.”

He let go of me and lazily walked back to the room. I watched, breathless, jaw aching, as his shoulders swayed, his form sauntering away until he closed the door to the room.

I turned, half expecting Soap to be laughing at Ghost’s cruelty. But he was just sat there, watching me with impossibly dark eyes, an impenetrable stare. 

“Soap?” I asked, my voice small. 

I wasn’t liking this. But I wasn’t hating this. My skin crawled with goosebumps as Soap got up, slowly facing me. Something akin to flames, like embers, was brewing low in my belly. 

Shit. 

“Let’s go get some sleep, huh, pumpkin?” He jerked his head towards the room, where Ghost was sleeping, where I was supposed to fall asleep as well. 

Numbly, I followed Soap. He opened the door for me, darkness greeting us both as we slinked in. I heard the rustle of his shirt coming off his chest, the sheets as he climbed into his bed. I listened to the creaks in Ghost’s own bunk, to the breaths of two men obviously not sleeping as I went to the corner and felt around for my pijamas. 

I listened to the dark, to Soap’s quiet but rapid breaths, to Ghost’s sheets hissing as he moved. 

I quickly changed, leaving my jeans and shirt on the floor, and quickly climbed into bed. 

I had trouble finding sleep, staring at the dark, pretending not to imagine what Soap would feel like. What Ghost would say if I touched him or Soap or both.

And something rang deep in my head, low in my belly, throbbing between my legs.

Ghost had said don’t tempt us. Us. 

Fuck. 

***

The truth about men was fairly simple. They were immortal beings until faced with the inevitable death of their hearts. They thought themselves painless, fearless until the sting of a blade kissed their flesh. 

Or until some bratty girl with midnight hair became the only girl on base to hold the entirety of their appetite. 

Ghost wasn’t stupid. And he wasn’t blind. He’d seen his own subordinates, trained privates, Navy Goddamned Seals battle hardened and insensitive, fall to their knees at the mention of pussy. And he’d seen them all give eyes to Laura, to the beautiful civilian American girl with black hair and a blacker stare. 

But she was his. And she’d remain his until he decided otherwise. 

“L.T?”

Ghost turned his head, meeting Soap’s gaze. The latter inclined his head. “Are we getting Laura for this?” he asked. 

Ghost shook his head. “All she needs to do is get in there and identify him,” the shadow said. Alejandro shook his head, leaning back on Laswell’s desk. 

They had gathered here again, a little after breakfast and their morning training. Laswell had asked them to prep her and brief her on Starlight. Only Ghost had a real plan. 

“We go in there as civilians,” he continued. 

“We can’t be armed,” Alejandro said. “They’ll check us at the door, perros.” His lip twitched on the last word. 

“We don’t need to go in armed,” Ghost said. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t arm ourselves inside.” 

Laswell prickled up from behind her desk, pushing away dirty, greasy bangs from her eyes. “We can’t let Laura bring in the guns,” she sighed. “They’ll check her too.”

And just the image of some dogs pressing their hands on her made Ghost suck his teeth. 

“We need to pull together a stealth operation,” he said. “We get some of our guys to go in during the day and stash the guns. When the club opens, we find the guns, let Laura identify Alvarez, and then we take him down.”

Soap shook his head. “His guys will have AKs if not automatics,” he offered. “We’ve got no chance if we can only get handheld guns in there, sir.”

“He’s right,” Laswell mumbled. 

“Then we get rifles in there,” Ghost insisted. 

Laswell sighed and slowly nodded. “Alright, Lieutenant, but please, do not add civilians to our casualties.” 

Ghost nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll have a team ready to go in this afternoon. We can have Laura ready for tonight.”

Alejandro pushed himself from the desk. “I’m still not fine with allowing a civilian girl into the crossfire, hermano.”

Ghost took a step towards him. “You want to catch Alvarez?” he asked. “You want to end this mission, go home, allow Laura back to her normal life?”

The other man took a breath in, calming the fire rising in his temples. “I do, but-”

“Then there’s no but, Vargas.” Ghost stood like a brick wall. “We get Alvarez, we shut down his entire ring, and we get the girl back to America.”

Ale nodded, even though Ghost could tell the man wasn’t happy with the idea, given his pursed lips. “She needs to be protected at all costs,” he said, silently, as if the idea itself was blasphemy. 

Ghost stiffened. “She is.” 

Laswell stood, knuckles on her desk. “Laura is our priority,” she said. “If she’s in any danger, it is your solemn order to protect and get her out alive. If anyone at the white house hears wind that we put an American girl’s head on the platter for Alvarez, they’ll have all our jobs.” 

Ghost bit into his cheek, suppressing the urge to tell everyone that she was his priority. And no one else’s. But by the way Soap, Alejandro, and Gaz all nodded solemnly, they’d made Laura their sole mission too. 

***

“Tonight?” I asked. Something akin to fear thudded, throbbed in my throat. Oh shit, I was going to vomit. 

Soap nodded, stepping into the RV, followed by the whole gang; Alejandro, Ghost, and finally, Gaz. I backed up, allowing them space to file in and take a seat at the table, or like Ghost preferred, standing and blocking the only exit to the RV. 

Soap was the first to talk. “We got guys stashing weapons in there for us.”

I turned to look at him. “As if that’s going to make me feel better.”

“You’ll be on comms with us,” he said soothingly. “All you have to do is well... identify Alvarez and get to the extraction point, where Laswell will be waiting for you. We’ll take care of Alvarez.” 

I was simultaneously feeling relieved that home was mere hours away, a mission’s breadth away, but also frightened to the point my bones became sour under my skin. Fear made everything impossible. 

I had opened the door to them; to these men who’d saved my life and asked one pitiful thing from me. And I had to deliver. I had to. For the sake of them and for the sake of my friends that had died.

I swallowed thickly. “What do I have to do?”

Soap smiled, something close to pride lifting his shoulders. “We’ll have you go in dressed as a civilian,” he said, pushing off the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s a club, so wear something... nice.”

I looked down at what I was wearing; jeans and an army green tee. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Soap chuckled, and I watched in utter embarrassment as Alejandro raised his eyebrow with a cheeky grin and Gaz ducked his chin to his chest. Only Ghost had no reaction. 

“What?” I insisted.

Alejandro cleared his throat. “Mami, you look fine,” he said, reassuringly so. “But this club, eh how do I say this politely... it’s for people who want to go home with enjoyment, you see?”

I did see. I also saw Ghost stiffen ever the slightest from the corner of my eye. 

“Oh,” I mumbled. 

“And let’s just say that no one wears jeans,” Ale finished. “Or t-shirts. We’ll get the girls on base to hand you some things, yeah?”

I nodded, peeling away the sweat from my palms onto my jeans nervously. 

Ale and Ghost left to find my nighttime attire while I stayed with Gaz and Soap. They walked me through my engagements; walk in, blend in, get invited to the upper lounge if I could, and by all means, get eyes on Alvarez. 

I nodded, but really, inside me, I was running marathons around my head. I was trying to find any exit, any dark alley or corner to hide in, to pull into myself and disappear. 

Soap handed me a device that fit into the hole of my ear and told me that the entire task force would be able to hear me and I’d be able to talk to them. It gave me a little bit of relief to know they would be a breath away. 

Ale and Ghost came back, shuffling in cooling evening air and a pink plastic bag. Ale handed it to me as if the bag itself contained the most gruesome plague. I took it and walked to the bathroom defeated, spotting a tube of mascara in there. 

When I got a good look at the clothes they brought me, I yelled. 

“Pumpkin?” It was Soap at the door, but I put my back against it. When he pushed, I pushed right back. 

“You’re not seriously asking me to wear this?” I called, holding the garment between my nails. 

Soap chuckled. “How bad is it?” he asked me. And then, a few seconds after, his weight on the door released and I could hear him asking the same question to the others. 

I sighed, pressing the flimsy fabric against my chest, feeling my heart beating through my skin. 

I sighed, stripping out of my clothes and letting them fall to a puddle beside the toilet. Carefully, I undid the jean skirt and slipped into it. As guessed, it covered my ass and an inch lower, but I only had to bend over and the entire world would glimpse my Winnie the Pooh underwear. And the shirt, god the shirt, was only a thin black camisole with so much glitter that the floor was covered by the time I slipped it on. It left a nice slice of skin just over my skirt’s hem.

When I looked back into the bag, I found a pair of black Converse shoes. “What kind of bar is this?” I asked myself, lacing them up. They were a bit small for me, toes cramming into the tip. That would have to do, I guess. I reluctantly applied mascara and smudged a bit of it over my lid as eye shadow.  

But there was no way in hell that I was walking out that door to face four grown military men. Not dressed like this. 

“Soap?” I called through the door. I heard his footsteps come to the door, the weight of his shoulder press on the wood. “I need a sweater.”

No answer. 

“Please, Soap,” I fidgeted. “I can’t step out the way I am. I look like a cheap escort.”

“It’s just us.” But it wasn’t Soap. It was Ghost, and his voice trailed through the flimsy wood of the door until I stepped away from it, let the door slide open a little. Until I could see his eyes peaking above his balaclava. He didn’t take his eyes off mine as he opened the door with one hand and handed me a black hoodie with the other. “Cover yourself up,” he ordered, and slammed the door shut. “The others are waiting outside.”

I ignored the rage climbing up my throat and the embarrassment seeping into my skin as I climbed into the hoodie and zipped it up. It was so big that it skimmed my knees and I zipped it up to my chin. It was warm, as if freshly worn, and the smell that clung to the fabric was absolutely Ghost’s smell.  

It made me almost dizzy, to wear him like this. To slip my bare skin along the same fabric that warmed his. 

I walked out and followed him silently, watching the sway of his shoulders, the shadows dancing on the grey of his hoodie. He stopped before the door, turning to face me, staring me down through the slit in his mask. “You’re scared,” he stated. 

I nodded, trying to hide from his glare, ducking my chin to my chest. His fingers zapped out quickly, pinching my chin between his forefinger and thumb, tracing my eyes back to his. “Yes,” I breathed, a tremble beginning in my fingers and working its way up to my lip.

Ghost stared. Then he sighed. “If something goes wrong,” he said. “Just tell me where you are in there. Describe the walls, the floor, the people there. I’ll find you.”

I wanted to say that I had no doubt he’d find me. Hell, he’d find me in the dark. I had no doubt he could be ripped of all his senses and still manage to put his hands on me. 

“How are you getting in?” I asked, watching as his fingers fell from my chin. 

“I’m going in without the mask.”

My eyes rounded, looking up at him, almost reaching for his shoulder before he opened the door and a gust of warm, humid South Asian evening heat patted my skin. And Alejandro came into view, smiling up at me.

I couldn’t concentrate on the comment Soap gave as I shockingly stepped from the RV. Or the reassuring thing Gaz said in my ear. Or the way Ale was guiding me with a soft hand on my middle back. 

All I could think about was that Simon, Ghost, would be in that club maskless. 

[meetmymouth]

your lips, my lips... apocalypse (harry styles imagine)

warnings: smut... fingering pregnant reader (thats your summary i guess lmao) word count: 4k+ this is for @majorharry‘s ‘20k fic celebration’ and the prompts i’ve chosen are ‘your hands are soft’ and ‘stop looking at me like that’. i hope you like it. 

It’s magnificent, he thinks.

It’s the way the raised skin is peeking out from the bubbles, all shiny and inviting for his hands. He wants to reach out and touch the dampened bump, follow the barely-there trail of hair with his fingers down her belly only to find the rare, soft part of the bump, and rub the skin there while she laughs and tries to push his hands off of her. It looks breathtaking; in fact, she looks breathtaking. Her head resting on a bath pillow, eyes closed, twitching like a butterfly shivering its wings. Her skin glimmering, almost sparkling like the waves in the ocean when sunlight hits them. When his eyes fall to the bump once again, he realises the little baby growing inside and the hot air of the bathroom are to blame.

He comes closer, his gaze shifting from her face to the two large candles placed on the corner of the bathtub, eyes catching how the flames keep dancing as if they too are in awe of the glowing creature before them. Just like Harry, it’s as if they can’t believe she’s given them the opportunity to witness something so special, so exquisite. When his bare feet reach the mat in front of the bathtub, she‘s already stroking her belly, delicate fingers rubbing every inch of the bump, especially the sides where there’s a prominent bulging.

“Sneaking up on me?” she murmurs, eyes still closed.

Kneeling on the floor, he puts his arms on either side of the bathtub, and scrunches his nose at the sweet smell of peaches and vanilla. He turns his face towards the large window which is now letting the cool summer air enter the room. “The June moon. Burning pure champagne,” he murmurs back at her, and she opens her eyes. When she doesn’t reply, his smile grows. “If I were her I’d be envious of you too.”

“Come close, wanna smell your breath.”

He dips his index finger into the soapy water and splashes her. “Am not high.”

It’s dead silent for a minute, only little ‘plinks’ of dripping water and faint noises of cars coming and going outside can be heard. As she tries finding a better position for her head, rubbing it on the wet bath pillow, he keeps his gaze focused on her face, mostly the tiny droplets of water on her forehead as they make their way down to her flushed cheeks.

Over the last few weeks, her face had started gaining a bit more weight, her cheeks becoming fuller than usual and despite her loathing her ‘chubby’ cheeks, she looked ethereal. Whenever they complimented her ‘pregnancy glow’ though, she would pout and immediately show her swollen fingers and feet, and say ‘look at my face, do my chubby cheeks scream glowy to you?’. And to Harry, they did. They screamed everything beautiful to Harry. He, as selfish as it sounds, wanted her all to himself during her pregnancy.

Of course she’s always been beautiful. He’s never been a shallow man but whenever he looked at her, just doing the most mundane things, like doing the laundry, making tea or shaving the peach fuzz on her face, he felt his chest tighten. He felt proud, so proud that she allowed him into her bubble everyday. He felt like she was so out of his league. Fuck what the tabloids say, fuck what Twitter says; she was way out of his league. His feelings only ended up intensifying during her pregnancy. He wanted to be the only one who saw her, who heard her voice, who got to hug and give her kisses. As absurd as it sounded, he felt like a jealous, territorial dog protecting its owner.

Now, looking at her naked form surrounded by bubbles in the tub, he feels the familiar pain in his chest, as if his rib cage has been squeezing his heart so tight that any moment now, blood would come out of his mouth. His heart feels like a quivering branch a bird has just left behind, shaking, but never empty. So full of love, adrenaline, and as warm as the first mould wine of the year.

When she tries to sit up in the tub, he stands up and reaches for her. “Let me help,” he whispers, hands going under her armpits to secure her in the slippery tub. “There. You comfortable? I’m surprised the water’s still warm.”

“Come in?” she asks with sleepy eyes and a tiny smile.

“I’m huge, I don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable.”

“Please? I miss baths with you, just come in.”

He starts from his trousers, then his t-shirt, and then peels off his briefs. They both can’t help but notice his semi as it gets freed from the fabric, growing more and more at the sight in front of him. He can’t help but get excited at the sight of his girlfriend’s growing belly, the stretch marks appearing on both sides of it from carrying something, someone so special. As he dips his right foot first, then left in the water, his eyes fall to her full breasts, wanting to reach out and rub the darker nubs softly knowing they might feel tender to touch. Her beautiful nipples are facing downwards, slightly touching the sides of her stomach since her bump is getting bigger and bigger everyday.

“Budge up. Here, I’ll help you,” he mumbles as he tries to help her slide forward in the tub just to make space for him behind her. It takes some effort but they finally find the right position, all thanks to the spacious bathtub.

When he’s fully seated behind her and is sure that she’s also comfortable, especially with the added weight of her bump, he sighs and presses a kiss to the side of her forehead. “You smell nice.”

She lets out a breath through her nose, “Mm, thank you. You do too.”

“I’m sweaty, I doubt I smell nice.”

“I like your musk. So hot,” she lets out a sweet giggle and Harry groans, squeezing her shoulders.

When she tilts her head back, their eyes meet. Harry’s pupils get dilated, his hold on her shoulders tighter. He watches her close her eyes, inhale the sweet, floral scent as his hands follow the length of her arms until they reach her hands, intertwining their hands. Her hands are wet and warm, almost as warm as a concrete that’s been swallowing all the early afternoon sunshine. But then again, he thinks, maybe it’s just the excitement seeping through his pores, spreading onto his hands, then mixing in with hers. When he shifts his gaze from their hands to the side of her face, his dimples become larger. She’s humming a song ever so quietly, presumably one he’s never heard of, as she rubs the soft web of skin between his thumb and index finger.

When she tries to reposition one of her legs, Harry becomes alarmed. “You okay? Do you need me to move?”

“No, I’m good,” thumb still rubbing his skin delicately. “My knee was getting cold,” her hand must feel warmer now that it’s completely underwater as she hums quietly, presumably at the warm feeling.

He hums and presses a kiss to her head, the wet hair dampening his lips slightly. Licking his lips, his eyes catch the sight of her boobs again and he feels his cock twitch at the sight. They had sex while she was pregnant. Lots of times. He’s always been careful with her but it only intensified during her pregnancy, especially during sex, and anything that involved her body. He loved making her feel good, whether it be sexual; fingering her, eating her sweet cunt out... or non sexual like giving her massages, massaging her swollen feet, helping her shave the areas she can’t reach… he’s always been happy to make her happy. But at the sixth month mark, things had started to shift in the bedroom. Now, Harry doesn’t care if he gets some as long as his heart and soul, his girl and their baby are happy and healthy. He doesn’t mind not waking up to her between his legs, sucking him off like her life depended on it. He’s okay with not having mind blowing sex 24/7 or being able to lift her up, part her legs and fuck her without giving her any warning.

But right now, at this moment, her soft and wet skin resting against his front, and her lower back slightly touching his pubic bone, these are all making it hard to keep his thoughts pure. He knows she can feel it, the growing bulge, by the way she keeps pressing her back further into his front and when he looks down, he sees her mouth curl upwards. Without much thought, he unlinks their fingers and brings them to her neck, gently pushing back a few wet strands of hair. “You’re warm,” he rests his hands on her collarbones. Her skin feels like the warm spot on the bed that she leaves behind on Thursday mornings, leaving Harry no choice but to cuddle into it more and more until he gets sweaty.

She tilts her head back and a fond look appears on her face, features all soft, eyes all sleepy. “You smell like strawberries,” she says, voice all soft, dripping with honey and lullabies and all things soft and good. “I wanna…” she puts her hand on his which are still caressing her collarbones, “…wanna eat youuuu.”

“Did you want strawberries, hm? Why didn’t you tell me earlier, I could pop to the shops and get you some, baby.”

She shakes her head and presses a kiss on his hand, “Ssh, it’s fine, just keep lovin’ on me.”

And he does. Of course he does. He takes her hand in his and brings it to his lips, careful not to bend her arm too much, and peppers little kisses on her warm and damp skin. When she lets out a satisfied hum, his other hand travels down to her breasts and caresses one of them, just the upper side of it, careful not to do anything that would make her uncomfortable.

“You like that, baby?” his hand makes its way to her nipple, all hard and swollen, asking for Harry’s attention. “You want more?”

A low moan leaves her parted mouth as Harry keeps rubbing the nipple with his thumb, giving it a gentle squeeze as if he’s just testing the waters, wanting to make sure he’s not hurting her already swollen boobs. As he keeps squeezing and tweaking the hardened nub, he takes a look at her face, sees her eyes all closed and he knows she’s already wet. He knows because he remembers her ob-gyn mentioning the ever-rising oestrogen and progesterone hormone levels during pregnancy and how these can make her feel… well, horny and aroused, at least more than usual. He slowly retracts his other hand from her neck and makes his way down to her slightly parted legs that are barely visible surrounded by the bubbles.

She nods and lifts up her head. When her nose touches his chin, the touch makes her smile. 

“What do you want, baby? Tell me,” he utters, grip tightening on her left thigh. His breath hits her neck and she lets out another hum, her own hand finding itself on his that is placed on her thigh, fingers interlocking immediately.

“Touch me.” 

“Touch you? Mm,” he squeezes the warm, hot flesh, her own fingers curling around his with the movement. “I’m already touching you, sweetheart.”

She takes her hand off of his and brings it up to his chin, fingers curling around it and making contact with his stubble first, then the scar under his chin. From the way she’s touching his face, Harry knows she’s getting frustrated with the game he’s playing. “Harry,”

“Tell me where you want my touch and I’ll give it to you.”

She lets out a soft groan, “Touch my pussy, please. I want it so bad I’m aching for it.”

“Oh baby, look at you,” his ring-free hand travels down her thigh, following the trail of slight fuzz of hair she’s forgotten to shave. “I bet you’re soaked… is your cunt soaked baby?” he asks, her hand gripping his wrist as his hand goes underwater, where her sweet pussy is buried between her legs, and he parts them. “Open wider so I can touch your little clit, baby.”

And she does. She parts her legs as wide as she can considering their position in the tub, and the lazy movement makes gentle waves on the surface, vanilla aroma as thick as ever, swirling in the air. He looks down and a smile appears on his face when he realises he won’t be able to see her pussy since her bump is on the way. Before she started showing, Harry’s hand would easily travel down her body, part her legs and start rubbing her clit while watching his middle finger work the soft, spongy spot. He would see every imperfection and curve of her lower body, thank whoever’s up there for sending her to him, and her, for letting Harry see her at her most vulnerable moments.

Even underwater, he feels her wetness as he drags her juices up to her clit and rubs harder. It’s slippery and warm, making his cock become more and more aware of what’s going on and as he keeps circling her clit, her hold on his wrist tightens. “Harry… God, that feels good.”

He hums and presses a soft kiss to her earlobe, “Yeah? That what you wanted? Me to play with your needy little cunt?” he presses his middle finger harder, applying pressure and she lets out a moan as he brings his finger towards her hole. “Fucked you too many times but y’still so tight, darling. Put a baby in you but you’re still so fuckin’ tight… fuck.”

“More please, give me more.”

“Look at me, let me see your pretty face while I fuck your cunt with m’fingers,” his palm makes contact with her pussy, pressing harder against it as his middle finger works her hole.

She raises her head, looking up at him with tired eyes and parted mouth. It’s all love, he thinks. She loves me. She lets me touch her even when she’s carrying a tiny human inside this belly. She wants this. She wants everything with me. And it actually hits him, for the hundredth time, that yes, she loves him. Her eyes, despite being half closed, touch something inside him. Not just his cock. It goes deeper than that. So deep. The loving and suggestive eyes make him feel all warm and fuzzy, like that one summer afternoon makes him feel, where you don’t have anything to do but lounge on the sofa, legs intertwined with hers and a stupid film playing on the telly. It feels warm. Hot. Familiar. And as he presses the second finger inside her, her arm reaches behind her and touches his hard cock underwater. She touches just the tip. It’s hot, and slippery. She knows he’s oozing precum as she touches the tiny slit.

“Baby…”

“I like your cock. It’s so big and warm in my hands. Always so hard for me,” she whispers as her fingers work his slit, thumb circling around the slippery area.

As she rubs her cock as efficiently as she can, he gets his fingers out of her and begins rubbing her clit, moaning at the spongy feeling as if he’s found a pearl deep inside the ocean. “Does it feel good baby? How’s it feel?”

She moans instead of responding, hand gripping his cock harder and making him hiss at the feeling. She doesn’t continue her movements, probably because of the way her arm is bent, but still holds his cock in her palm, squeezing it from time to time especially when his fingers rub that special spot inside her. His other hand finds her boobs and tweaks one of her nipples, making goosebumps appear on her skin. “God, your tits. So fucking hot. Look how big they’ve gotten baby…” he keeps squeezing her nipple between his thumb and index finger, tugging the nipple and twisting it just so before letting it fall, watching it jiggle. “Fucking gorgeous,” he keeps playing with her nipples while his fingers work her clit, rubbing circles as she keeps letting out little whimpers of joy.

When he sees her struggle with her arm, trying to find a better position for it just so she can give his cock more attention, his hand fall from her boob and grabs her by the wrist, bringing it up to her boob where his hand had been previously. She goes voluntarily, getting the message, and begins kneading her left boob, the nipple getting hard and pointy like clockwork. It’s so hot, the way she keeps playing with the swollen nipple, tweaking and squeezing the nub… it makes him harder than he already is. If she weren’t pregnant, he’d grab her by the waist and pull her closer to his front, press her against his cock just to get more friction. But it’s fine, he thinks. As long as she’s enjoying this, he’ll be more than fine.

“Fuck baby, I wish I could put those tits in my mouth right now. Lick them a little, bite them…” he adds the third finger, and as much as his arm starts hurting, he still keeps fucking into her with his long fingers. “Would you like that sweetheart? Would you want me to bite your little nipples while I played with this wet, juicy cunt, hm?”

She nods and a moan leaves her parted mouth when Harry brings her hot mouth closer to the side of her neck, and licks a long stripe from the salty skin of her neck to her ear, leaving a wet trail behind which he goes back to press open-mouthed kisses to the area. “This makes you wet? Me talking about what I would do to you?”

“Yes yes yes. Oh God- please!”

“You wanna move your hips so bad don’t ya, darling? Wanna ride my fingers, rub your little clit on my palm, hm?” while his fingers are still inside her pussy, now only his index and middle finger, he begins rubbing his palm against her clit. Despite being underwater, he feels the slippery nub inside her pussy make contact with his palm and he groans at the feeling, his palm increasing its movements as he keeps moving it left and right, then up and down. “Such a little slut, baby. Fucked you so good you ended up with a baby inside you but you still want it so bad, don’t you? Yes, look at you… want it so bad. You’re such a whore for me, always want something from Daddy. Always want this little clit to be played with don’t you, baby?”

“I do, God, I do! I love being a slut for you. I love when you fuck my little clit, please- please keep fucking me,” she moans and tries to ride Harry’s palm but fails due to the slightly uncomfortable position. A tear rolls down her left eye, pooling around her nose, and it makes her feel all pathetic and dirty.

Harry’s cock is now standing up against his belly, peaking through the soapy water, and it’s so hard, so fucking hard. The tip is swollen and a beautiful, mouthwatering shade of pink. He wants to reach down and thumb at the tip, maybe rub it a little bit just to get the edge off. But instead, he keeps fucking into her pussy while his mouth is pressed to her ear, alternating between licking and nibbling the soft skin. While sucking her earlobe, his free hand finds her bump and rests there. “My beautiful girl. Always so nice to me. Always so wet, so sweet…”

“I wanna cum,” she breathes, voice all groggy. “Let me cum, please baby, let me cum.”

“Does it hurt? Tell me, does your little clit hurt baby? Am I rubbing it too fast,” his tone is anything but sweet, it’s mocking and intimidating. And yes, it does hurt. The way his wide palm keeps rubbing against her sensitive clit makes her whine as she feels a little uncomfortable down there.

It’s so hard, keeping it up, and holding herself back from coming. She feels the burning sensation in the pit of her stomach but she tries to focus on the tips of her fingers playing with her nipple. She tugs harder, pulling it and then letting it go once again, but it’s too much and never enough at the same time. She needs it. She needs to cum so bad. 

Harry brings his own hand and places it on top of hers on her boob and closes his fingers, making her squeeze harder. “Beautiful tits, baby. So, so fucking beautiful.”

“Harry…”

“Yeah, you like when I admire you? When I compliment your tits?” he smacks his hand on her, making her moan at the stinging sensation. “You know what’s comin’ right, sweetheart? You just know it, you dirty fucking slut… take your hand off. Come on,” he grabs her hand and places it on her thigh. He then travels his hand up to her boob, caressing the bump on the way, all gentle and loving, and then slaps her boob making her a whining mess against him. “Did it hurt?” he whispers, his breath tickling her ear, and he gives her nipple a hard squeeze.

“Mhm, yeah.”

“Good girl… want me to hurt you a bit more?” he kisses her ear and brings his hand to her other boob without waiting for her response because he knows what she would say. He just knows how bad she wants to be slapped even when pregnant. 

When another smack is met with her other boob, her left leg twitches in the water, his inner thigh rubbing against Harry’s wrist that is still between her parted legs. “Want me to rub your cunt some more? To make you cum?”

She lets out a sigh and turns her head to the side, Harry catching her lips as if he’s been waiting for this moment. It’s messy, hot, and wet. It’s dirty. The way he captures her bottom lip with his teeth and pulls it, then sucks it into his mouth… it’s so dirty. He knows she’s tired, could cum any minute, but he appreciates how she presses open mouth kisses to his equally parted lips, the inside of her top lip catching a portion of the stubble on his upper lip which she decides to lick and press her open mouth harder. Wet sounds fill the room as Harry bites her bottom lip first, and then travels his lips down to her chin, sucking her sweaty flesh into his mouth.

She whimpers, hand falling to her bump, and Harry’s immediately follows. “Can I cum? I wanna cum so bad,” her legs start shaking visibly and Harry uses their intertwined hands to rub her belly, appreciating the hard bump under their hands. “Please, I want to cum so bad, so so bad. I can’t take it, it hurts.”

“Does it? How bad does it hurt, baby?”

“So fucking bad, Harry, please let me cum,” she practically wails and squeeze their fingers.

The candle that’s been sitting in the corner seems to be on borrowed time as it radiates the tiniest amount of light and Harry presses his lips to her warm neck, sucking the flesh while his hand works her clit, eyes never leaving the smoke that is dancing above the flame. And finally, she lets go, her other hand coming up to his neck and trying to hold on to it. It’s hypnotising, seeing her come undone despite not being able to see what his hand had been doing. It feels good, being the one who makes her feel like this; unguarded and dirty.

After that, a comfortable silence falls upon them as she tries to catch her breath, bump rising and falling with every breath she takes.

She looks up, eyes all red and watery, and a lazy smile appears on her mouth. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Mm, I like your face. Let me look at you,” he grins, resting his forehead on top of her head. “Smell nice.”

“I use shampoo on Fridays.”

“Come on, let’s get you out of here, darling,” he clears his throat to get rid of the hoarseness. “You feeling okay? How’s your back?”

“I’m good, don’t worry about me. I needed that. I can’t enjoy my own fingers anymore, I wish she was here already.”

He laughs but his eyes widen after a few seconds, hands falling from her shoulders to his sides, into the water. “She? It’s a girl? She’s a she? You- I thought it was gonna be a surprise, what the fuck babe?”

“I’m sorry! It’s not my fault, she told me by accident on my last visit!”

“You- I,” he waves his hands around and a few droplets land on her nose making her flinch. “I’m telling your mum.”

She gasps, “You wouldn’t! If I see another pink onesie I’m eating the baby. I’ll actually eat it.”

“I’ll eat you! Can’t believe you couldn’t hold it in.”

She sighs, hands going to her belly. “Help me get out and I might let you eat me some more.”

[uhhhhforgetaboutit]

Heyyy, so I made picrews of my re8 ocs. Here we have Elaine Dogwood Giannatacio (usually just goes by Elaine Dogwood since some people [cough Heisenberg and Angie cough] cannot pronounce her last name) and Isabel Sato.

Elaine is 5'11 and rather gangly. She kinda stands there like 🧍‍♀️ most the time lmao. Her voice is deeper and smooth, but with just enough rasp to be *chefs kiss* perfect.

Isabel is 5'3 and just small. Not in a super-short-oompa-loompa way, but just a petite way. Her voice is really soft and sweet. The kind of voice you could fall asleep to. Also she can sing! She's not like American Idol or anything but she has a good voice.

Anyway, let us start with Elaine shall we?

Elaine is a very deadpan person with a quick wit and a subtle sense of humor. She likes to keep her emotions under lock and key for the most part. She fears people won't tolerate her if she spills all her negative emotions, so she tends to keep them bottled up. However, she is not a cold or unkind person. Quite the opposite actually, she loves to help people and animals (animals!!!).

Now, about her "powers" (cadou induced abilities) They consist of extreme persuasion/compulsion. By making eye contact with her red eye she is able to compel basically anyone to do anything. Now, Elaine usually wears an eye patch over her red eye because she worries she may accidentally compel someone. However, she does use her ability if she feels lazy or angry and can regret her choices later on. She also compels animals into being her pets because she is lonely.

Now, on to Isabel!

Sweet little Isabel is simply a small town girl who ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. She wanted to strike out on her own and make a life for herself, but ended up being kidnapped by Daniela. So now she finds herself working as a maid in the Dimitrescu castle. It's not all bad, Alcina treats her employees considerably well. For the most part.

Now, the girls are awfully fond of Isabel because of her inherently sweet nature. Of course Isabel is terrified of the girls, but she doesn't let them know that. She is kind to them, even when they are covered in blood and a bit manic. She makes sure they're warm and happy, and they love that. Of course it's literally Isabel's job but if she was being honest, she'd probably help then anyway. Even though the girls are bloodthirsty and a bit sadistic, Isabel couldn't help but see their personalities underneath. She had grown to love them for themselves, rather than fear them for their violent side.

⚠️Trigger warning⚠️

Depression, anxiety, mentions of suicide and self harm

Now, Isabel is just a kind and happy girl, but she does have her own hidden issues. She had a history of anxiety and depression before getting captured by Daniela, but now that she lives in the castle it's amplified. Her hands tremor regularly as she works form the amount of anxiety roiling around in her small body. At night she lays awake crying silent tears as she remembers the taste of fresh air and the feeling of sun on her skin. Sometimes she feels as though she no longer remembers what happiness feels like. At one point her thoughts turned to offing herself for some type of relief, but she grew scared and steered away from that thought. Instead she settled for cutting her wrists. She felt relief from being in control of her pain, unlike her time in the dungeons with Cassandra.

End of trigger warning

Uhh, now this is basically just a fic of Elaine and Isabel meeting for the first time lmao

Isabel and Elaine met when Elaine came to visit Alcina and the girls. Isabel had been one of the maids to serve dinner, and she cought Elaine's eye. Elaine was very aware of how the girls "played" with the maids, and though she didn't exactly agree with it, she couldn't really blame them either. They needed blood to survive, after all. However, she noticed the faint tremble in Isabel's hands as she set a plate down in front of her. She also caught sight of a single cut on Isabel's wrist as her sleeve rode up, but it was enough for her. 'Poor thing, she's not doing well here.' Elaine thought. Now, of course most of the maids dont do particularly 'well', in the castle, but Isabel was different. Most maids were hurried and spurred on by fear and resentment. Isabel... Isabel smiled, a genuine smile. Isabel had gentle hands as she worked, she worked with care.

So after dinner was finished and Isabel reached for Elaine's now empty plate to take it to be cleaned, Elaine gently grabbed her sleeve between two fingers. Isabel froze, pale blue eyes snapping to Elaine's in surprise mingled with fear. Alcina perked up at the interaction. It was rare that Elaine payed any mind to the maids.

"What is your name, darling?" Elaine asked softly. Isabel hesitated, seeming confused by the entire situation.

"My- my name is Isabel, my lady." Isabel responded in her soft, silky voice. Elaine smiled gently at the girl, examining her face closely. She was very attractive, Elaine mentally acknowledged as she turned her attention to Alcina.

"I've noticed Isabel here has been quite attentive all night, a very good maid indeed. I was wondering if I may take her home with me." Elaine proposed, trying not to let on how much she wanted to whisk this poor girl away from the castle. Alcina grinned wolfishly as she tilted her head downward slightly.

"Oh? You wish to take her home with you?" Alcina echoed in a suggestive tone. Elaine refrained from rolling her eyes and simply smiled thinly.

"Yes, that is what I said." Elaine replied, the hand gripping Isabel's sleeve moving to cup her elbow instead. Her fingers curled around Isabel's arm in a possessive manner as she maintained eye contact with Alcina. Alcina narrowed her eyes for a moment before chuckling lowly.

"Alright, you can have her. Consider it an early birthday present." Alcina said with a grin, and Elaine nodded in response, turning her gaze to Isabel, who looked rather taken aback by the whole ordeal.

"Go gather your things, we'll be leaving shortly." Elaine murmured softly, rubbing Isabel's arm before releasing her. Isabel stayed rooted to the spot before curtsying and hurrying away.

Once Isabel had finished packing and Elaine said her goodbyes the two soon found themselves sitting across from eachother in Elaine's personal carriage. Isabel kept fidgeting in her seat nervously and Elaine sat in an awkward silence. Out of habit she fiddled with her eye patch and saw Isabel tense. Realization dawned on Elaine like icewater being dumped on her head. 'The poor girl probably thinks I'm going to compel her into having sex with me.' She thought guiltily as she lowered her hand to her lap. She cleared her throat.

"When we get to my estate I shall show you to your chambers and leave you to get settled in. If you need anything you can find me and ask, I'm usually awake at most hours. When I do sleep I sleep light, so don't worry about waking me. I also must warn you about Marcello. He's my raven, and he likes to be a pest most of the time. If he bothers you just shoo him away." Elaine explained, watching Isabel closely. The blond seemed to relax the smallest bit before nodding.

"Yes my lady. Thank you." She murmured softly, and Elaine swore her heart melted at the sound of her voice.

"You may also call me Elaine. I'm not one for titles. Marcello on the other hand, you might need to watch out for." Elaine deadpanned with an eyeroll. Isabel covered a giggle with her hand and Elaine's ego inflated itself at the sound.

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Elaine." Isabel replied with a soft smile, glancing up at Elaine through her bangs. That was the moment Elaine swore to herself that she'd do anything to see Isabel smile that way.

Suddenly, the carriage came to a halt and Elaine quickly got to her feet. She stepped out into the crisp night air before turning to offer her hand to Isabel. In the dim light she could have sworn she saw Isabel blush as she took Elaine's outstretched hand.

"Well here we are." Elaine announced, gesturing to the dark mansion before the two of them. Isabel stared in wonder at the sheer size of the place. She wondered if Elaine truly lived by herself here. 'If she does it must be rather lonely.' Isabel thought, glancing at the taller woman in sympathy. She was surprised to see Elaine already looking at her. They exchanged awkward smiles before walking up to the mansion together. Little did they know how pivotal that moment was.

[lovehatemysme]

[Sylvain x Fem!Byleth] [NSFW] A/N: Hello! This is my first time contributing to this fandom and it’s smut lmao. Please accept my offer, any feedback would be nice! Thank you~ Also, if anyone would like a reader insert version of this, please say so I’m more than willing to tweak it!

"Mmm," Byleth moaned as Sylvain twirled his skilled tongue to hers, his hands ghosting on her waist to her back, pulling her closer to his body. Byleth had her hands roam around Sylvain's body, from his biceps tracing to his chest and abdomen. 

Byleth suppressed another moan when Sylvain flicked her tongue, massaging underneath as he continued to explore her mouth. Sylvain slowly lay her to the bed behind her, never breaking off from the kiss as Byleth held onto his arms. 

"I bet I can make you make more sweeter sounds," Sylvain said as he pulled away, a smug smile on his face as he challenged more to himself than to her. Byleth's eyes were lidded, her lips apart as she sighed at the loss of his tongue, she could feel her whole body burning up, she felt heated while her mind felt hazy.

It wasn't long that Sylvain had his lips attached to her body once again, giving her lips a quick kiss before moving to her neck, licking a spot before biting softly and sucking her skin. Sylvain knew his way to a woman's body, but now, all he could ever want to explore is Byleth and Byleth alone. He could feel his own heart throbbing faster, it was different with her, there was a different feeling whenever Byleth touched him, sighed for him, moaned for him, it felt like there was a pit in his stomach that was filling with warmth and love with all her reactions for him.

Sylvain twirled his tongue on her collar bone, Byleth arched her back and sighed, pulling Sylvain's head closer as she locked her legs on his body. Sylvain moved downwards towards her breasts, his hand on her back as he reached for the clasp and in one swift move he was already discarding it and tossing it at the side.

Byleth, feeling so exposed, unconsciously crossed her arms on her chest, gazing to the other side of the room as she did so.

"Are you shy?" Sylvain chuckled, Byleth's cheeks flushed pink and it was the only response Sylvain needed from her. She's too damn adorable! Sylvain thought. He took her hands and raised her arms above her head while her cheeks turned deep pink. It only amused Sylvain more, the confident woman in the battlefield is now shy and flustered, and he was the only one who could see it, and it was for his eyes only.

Leaning down, Sylvain gave her cheek a reassuring peck, it was always his actions that truly spoke more as the tension in Byleth's body left, she felt more relaxed as Sylvain gave her neck another lingered peck. His kiss felt warm and soft, making her feel fuzzy inside her. Byleth moaned softly when Sylvain cupped her breasts, he peeked at her and she had her eyes closed with lips only slightly apart as she sighed. 

Sylvain started to suck one nipple softly, teasing it with his tongue as he flickered it. Byleth pressed her lips together, suppressing her moans as she arched her back slightly, wanting more of Sylvain's mouth on her breast. Sylvain indulged her, sucking more softly of her hardening nipples, his tongue circling around before licking it. He blew air before moving to the other one, doing the same thing as he made sure not to neglect it. 

Byleth could feel tingles all over her body, her sex aching for friction as her hips started to move against Sylvain's. Sylvain chuckled at her eagerness, he brought her breasts together and gave them a hard suck before moving down. A moan caught in her throat when he sucked them both, her breathing heavy and ragged. 

Sylvain trailed kisses down, under her breast, to her stomach where he lingered, nipping it and blowing it that tickled Byleth, and on her pubic before he faced her sex. Sylvain let out a breathy laugh, her undies having an obvious stain already. He was just getting turned on and on every second, but he held himself back wanting to focus on Byleth. Sylvain took a deep breath, breathing her in, her smell intoxicating him and driving him crazy. He took a quick taste and Byleth suppressed a moan, the lick sending tingles from her sex to her spine.  

Determined to make true of his words, Sylvain started to suck her through the fabric, Byleth’s one hand suddenly grabbing his hair and pulling, her own hips lifting from the bed wanting more. Sylvain nuzzled his nose on her sex, her sweet smell making him light headed in arousal. He chuckled when Byleth bucked her hips, heat spreading all over her body as her sex ached in want. 

Sylvain placed kisses on her thighs, nipping and sucking her skin leaving marks. He then slid her undies off, a fluid of her essence trailing along with the fabric while Sylvain watched in awe. Byleth waited in anticipation for any touch, she opened her eyes slightly and looked down, Sylvain had his eyes on her sex, glistening with her own essence he absent mindedly licked his lips. He looked up to Byleth and they locked eyes, her eyes lidded and her cheeks flushed, Sylvain flashed his devilish charming smile, that smile Byleth always wanted to smack out of his face, but also the smile she fell for. 

Byleth watched Sylvain settle down between her legs, his hot breath teasing her bare sex. Sylvain traced her slit and Byleth's body instantly reacted, her heels digging into the mattress as she lifted her hips. Sylvain wrapped his arms around her thighs to keep her in place, licking her and tasting her raw essence. 

"You taste so divine," Sylvain murmured, his voice husky and thick with arousal. He flicked her clit and her body trembled, she felt so sensitive, as if there were little fires ignited inside her as she breathed hard, her moan still suppressed on her throat much to Sylvain's dismay. Sylvain started to suck her, his tongue continued to flicker her aching bud and her hips started to grind against his mouth. Sylvain reached out his hand to hers that was on his head, intertwining their fingers he squeezed her lightly.

"Come on, let me hear you," with his words Byleth let herself go, a series of moans and sighs coming out of her mouth that filled the room while he busied his own on her sex. It was music to his ears, a melodic song that he'd play forever. Byleth had her eyes closed as she felt those tingles in her sex spread all over her body, her hips twitching each time Sylvain sucked her. She could hear the sloppy sounds Sylvain made as he drank her up, tasting and relishing her essence. 

"Aaah~ Mmm~" Byleth could feel something inside her coil, tightening in each slide of Sylvain's hot tongue on her sex. Sylvain could sense she's near, he dipped his tongue inside her and poke her insides, Byleth arched her back and squeezed his hand tightly as a silent moan left her lips. Her thighs squeezing Sylvain's head as waves of pleasure engulfed her body and mind. She felt tingly all over, her mind white as she came. Sylvain drank everything she gave, moaning softly as he did so, his tongue gliding on her slit making sure he doesn't waste anything. 

Sylvain pecked Byleth's inner thigh before sitting up, his stupid, devilish, charming smile on his face with her fluids dripping on his chin. He felt triumph as he saw Byleth's face contorted in pleasure, his own arousal pooling in his abdomen realizing he too needed his own release, her moans and taste were enough for him to get hard. He sighed as he removed his underwear, his cock springing free and he laughed softly seeing he was already leaking some precum. 

There was something about Byleth as she looked at him, maybe it was the afterglow of just coming, or the way the side of her lips curled subtly in a smile and her eyes that just looked at him in love and adoration that for a moment Sylvain felt his heart skip a beat, and a pool of arousal in his stomach coiling. How she makes him feel so many things at once, he doesn't know. He finally flashed his smile, his own breathing already ragged as he grabbed himself and traced her slit with his tip. They both groan at the touch, his tip teasing her clit, spreading their mixed fluids on her sex. 

Sylvain leaned down and stroke Byleth's head, cupping her cheek he took her lips. It was soft and tender, he pulled away as he slid in and they both took a deep breath as Sylvain filled Byleth. Her warmth and softness engulfing his wholeness as she clenched around him, she could feel his shape, his tip poking her deep and sweet spot, her hands on his back hugging him closer. Their lips brushing off on one another as they moan and sigh, Byleth with her eyes close while Sylvain watched every reaction she gave. 

Byleth could feel her body burn in heat, her skin prickling of little fires, her legs locking on Sylvain's waist prompting him to move. Sylvain took her lips once again as he started to thrust into her, she moaned as she felt the loss of his cock only to fill her again and hit her sweet spot. Sylvain continued to thrust as his tongue massaged hers, twirling and sucking her tongue. Byleth felt hazy, losing herself in pleasure as she got filled again and again with Sylvain's throbbing cock. She clenches down on him every time he hits her sweet spot, she could feel the knot inside her getting tighter, her orgasm nearing sooner as she still felt sensitive. 

Pulling away their mouth connected them with a trail of saliva, Byleth's legs locking more onto Sylvain's waist as her own hips lifted and met his thrusts. Sylvain's movement became quick, pulling out before going in deep, Byleth clamping onto him as he did so. Byleth's fingers started to dig into his skin, whimpering and moaning as she could feel her orgasm. Sylvain pounded her faster, his cock twitching, and in one deep stroke Byleth came as he hit her sweet spot. Her body trembled as she came, tingles all over her body as her mind went blank, pleasure taking all over her as waves of it went through her. She clenched down on Sylvain as she came and he spilled himself inside her, his own hot essence filling inside her. 

Sylvain fell on Byleth, his cock inside her twitching, their bodies coated with sweat, their minds blank high in cloud nine. Byleth's legs fell on the sides but her hands remained on Sylvain's back. Sylvain planted kisses on the side of Byleth's face, his hand on her waist as his thumbs rubbed her skin in circles.

"Told you I can make you produce sweeter sounds," he grinned as he looked at her, her eyes lidded as she looked back at him with her raw lips slightly apart. Her face that showed little to no emotion before now looking lustful in front of him, he was the one who could make her like this, and it filled Sylvain's ego that he was the only one who could see it. 

No matter how many times they have been up close, how many times he stared at her, she always looked beautiful. Sylvain picked the hair on her face as he scanned her features, he knew the moment he laid eyes on her he wanted to marry her, and boy was he lucky she reciprocated his feelings. 

Falling onto the other side, Sylvain pulled Byleth close as she turned, his arms wrapped around her waist, his lips on her nape and planting a kiss. Byleth sighed in contentment in Sylvain’s arm, then rolling her eyes when she suddenly felt a light squeeze on her boob and then the other.

“Sylvain,” she said, reprimanding but playful as she swats Sylvain’s hand lightly.

“What? I’m saying goodnight to them!” Sylvain said defensively, he truly just can’t get enough of his wife. 

[hopelikethemoon]

Morning Fun (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: Morning Fun Rating: Explicit Length: 1500 Warnings: Smut (consensual somnophilia)  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Fall 1995. I’ve been waiting to use this gif of Phoebe for weeks lmao.  Summary: Reader is woken up in the best way possible. 

@grapemama​ @seawhisperer​ @huliabitch​ @beccaplaying​ @rogrsnbarnes​@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns​ @gooddaykate​ @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow​@plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn​ @lokiaddicted​ @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut​ @snivellusim​ @lukesrighthand​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​@synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper​@awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie​ @swhiskeys​ @lady-tano​ @u-wakatoshii @space-floozy​ @cable-kenobi​ @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes​ @findhimfives​ @pedrosdoll​ @frietiemeloen​@arrowswithwifi​ @random066 @uncomicalhumour​ @heather-lynn​ @domino-oh-damn​ @cyarikaaa​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​  @yabby-girl​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​ @punkass-potato @coredrive​ @pascalesque​@theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar​ @sabinemorans​ @buckstaposition​ @holkaskrosnou​@yespolkadotkitty​ @fleetwoodmactshirt​ @seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie​ @jaime1110​ @katlikeme​

The pair of lips brushing over the back of your neck made a quiet sigh of contentment slip past your lips. The touch wasn’t quite enough to stir you from your dreams, but it was enough to turn your dreams into something new. 

A shiver ran down your spine as you as fingers ghosted over your bare back. Your hips shifted as the figure in your dream pinned you against your kitchen table. 

One hand slid along your waist, before a pleasant weight settled atop you, pressing you into the mattress. 

Hot breath danced over your ear, causing another quiet moan to escape you. The figure in your dream transformed into Javier — you recognized his hands as they drew your arms out in front of you, keeping them pressed against the top of your kitchen table. 

“Javi.” You whispered, grinding your ass back against the stiff length of his cock. 

The hand at your waist slid beneath you, coming up to grasp your breast, palming it gently as the other hand grabbed at your hip, holding you steady as he rocked against you. 

His cock slid between your sensitive folds, teasing you just as mercilessly as the figure in your dream. You were still sensitive from last night — but you craved it. You needed him. You always did. 

Javier’s lips ran over the column of your throat, lingering at your ear, “You’re so fucking wet, baby.” He kissed your cheek as you turned your face, sinking into the pillow beneath you. Every nerve in your body felt like they were buzzing. 

You inhaled sharply as the head of his cock pressed against your center, your back arching as you tried to slide back onto him. Even in your dream, he teased you. 

His fingers curled gracefully around your throat, his thumb brushing along your jawline. “Are you dreaming about me, baby? Are you thinking about last night?”

A sleepy murmur slipped past your lips, but the sound got lost as you moaned as Javier’s cock sank into you, almost all the way to the root.

Your lashes fluttered, lips parting as you were pulled from your dreams into an even better reality. “Oh fuck.” You panted out, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” He questioned, remaining perfectly still within you. “Say the word and I stop.”

“Don’t stop.” You urged, your fingers curling around your pillow as you rolled your hips backwards, taking that last inch of him into you. 

Javier’s hand slid from your breast, still wedges between you and the mattress, and trailer it downwards to your lower stomach. He drew you up, his fingers fanned out as he held you there as he snapped his hips into you. 

“Fuck!” You gasped out, the angle of his thrusts had him hitting every sweet spot within you. The warmth of sleep quickly shifted into a burning need for him as you moved with him. 

You reached behind you, curling your fingers around the back of his head as you drew him down so you could kiss him. It was messy and crooked, but exactly what you needed. “I love you.” You whispered against his mouth.

“Love you too, baby.” Javier grunted out as he pressed a kiss to the crook of your neck, lingering there. “You looked so fucking good laying there.” He told you, his voice rough with effort. “Couldn’t fucking help myself.” 

“Last night wasn’t enough?” You taunted, clenching tight around his cock as he slid into you again. 

“Woke up hard as a fucking rock,” Javier told you, catching your earlobe between his teeth and tugging lightly at it. “And you looked too good laying there, baby.” He drew out nearly completely, before shallowly thrusting into you. “That pussy was too good to ignore.”

You moaned as he tightened his grip on your throat, not enough to leave a mark, but just enough to make your entire body shudder. 

“Come for me again, baby.” Javier kissed a spot behind your ear.

“Again?” You breathed out, grinding back against him as the length of him pressed into you. “Was that why I was dreaming of that fucking mouth of yours, Javi?”

He smirked against the flat of your shoulder, “It was hot.” He ran his thumb over your bottom lip and you wrapped your lips around it, swirling your tongue as you sucked. “Is that okay, baby?” He questioned — always so painfully aware of what you wanted. 

You scraped your teeth over his thumb, “How many times have I told you… you have my full permission to wake me up, just like this.” You reached behind you, threading your fingers through his hair. 

Javier nodded, kissing your shoulder before he braced a hand beside your head. He used it for leverage to start truly slamming into you. The angle let him fill you to the brim and the way he was pressed against you made you feel overwhelmed in the best of ways. 

Fireworks went off in your veins as your release crashed over you, your cunt pulsing around his cock as he slammed into you again and again. 

His breath was hot against your shoulder as he grunted out your name, his body tensing above you as he buried the length of his cock within you. Your body clenched around him, milking every second of pleasure from him as his release spilled out. 

You let out a plaintive groan as he slid out of you too soon, so he could collapse onto the bed beside you and not crush you into the mattress. 

“I wasn’t done with you,” You murmured, reaching out for his hand. Javier flashed you a lazy grin as he slid his fingers in between yours before he interlaced them. 

“Less about you and more about my lower back, baby.” He assured you, giving your hand three little squeezes. You weren’t surprised, you could see the way his jaw was taut, an obvious give for when something was bothering him. 

You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, “Well, we can't have that.” You grinned as you scooted closer to him, nestling yourself into the crook of his arm. “Did you get that out of your system?” 

Javier snorted, “Don’t think that’s possible.” He assured you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But it did the trick.” 

You released your hold on his hand and draped your arm over him. You traced the line from his collarbone down to his navel, trailing your fingers up and down his chest. “I was having a very interesting dream.”

“Yeah?” Javier arched a brow, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “You plan on sharing.”

“Maybe,” You shrugged grinning at him. “We were back in Colombia… but I think it was before Josie was born…” You pressed a kiss to his chest. “And you were fucking me over the kitchen table.”

Javier ran his hand down your arm as he grinned at you, “Interesting. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

You slapped his chest lightly, “Shut up.”

He leaned in to catch your lips in a gentle kiss, letting it linger before he pulled back, brushing his nose against yours. “Make me.”

“You’re the worst,” You rolled your eyes, stealing another kiss before you pulled away. “But I’ve got work today and we’re thirty minutes out before there’s a hungry baby crying.” You scrunched up your nose. 

Javier raked his fingers through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck as he settled back against the bed. “Probably gonna take her to the seaquariam today.”

“I wish I could come.” You frowned a little. “I might be able to sneak away at lunch. We can grab a bite to eat at the cafe there?”

He nodded, reluctantly letting you go as you sat up. “Sounds like a plan, baby.”

“If I had known this would become a full-time job…” You pursued your lips, shaking your head slowly. “I feel like I miss out on so much shit.”

Javier sat up, curling his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest. He rested his chin on your shoulder, “One of us has to work.” He kissed your neck. “And we both know you were raring to get back in the field.”

“With you.” You pointed out. “I miss that.”

You regretted it the second it came out of your mouth. Things were still so weird when it came to Colombia. He had so much guilt and weird emotions about your time there and you had your own baggage. 

Sometimes you wondered how much of what you were currently doing was over-correcting for the past. You were working your ass off and he spent every free minute with Josie as her primary caregiver during the day. 

He rubbed at the back of his neck, sighing heavily. “Yeah. I miss it too.” 

You leaned back against him, resting your head against his shoulder, rubbing your hands over his arms where they were curled around you. 

Eventually it would have to be discussed. 

But this morning wasn’t the time to dredge you bad memories. 

“Next time, I’m gonna be the one waking you up.” You told him, giving his cheek a pat and a kiss before you escaped his hold and moved to get out of bed. “Grab her if she gets up, I’m gonna jump in the shower.”

Javier raked his gaze over your naked body with a smirk, “What, no offer to join you?”

“Someone’s got to get Josie when she wakes up,” You told him with a grin, before vanishing into the bathroom for your shower.

Like clockwork — Josie started crying the second you stepped into the shower, but you knew he had it handled. 

[ukulelecal]

Making a Yogi (Dad!Ashton)

In which Kennedy finds that she loves yoga like her dad does.

Warnings: pregnancy

Pairing: Dad!Ashton Irwin x Reader

A/N: just another short lil dad!sos fic bc i have issues. we are not surprised. but like i’ve had this idea for a while and i started writing it a hot minute ago but i got stuck somehow and just got inspired to finish it lmao

dad!sos universe

❀❀❀

You and Aston both understood the importance of having some alone time. Valued it. As much as you loved each other, you knew you couldn’t and shouldn’t spend every waking moment together. So, you always made sure to give each other space.

When you had your first child, alone time was far and few in between. 

Newborn babies were a handful, as you expected, and you and Ashton found yourselves together with your daughter, Kennedy, a lot more than you found yourselves alone. Not that you minded. She was the best thing that had ever happened to the two of you, and you loved her more than anything.

Now that you were pregnant with twins, soon enough, you would be lucky to get a single second alone once they came along.

One afternoon, you were exhausted and in desperate need of a nap, so Ashton graciously offered to keep an eye on Kennedy so you could sleep. With the little girl - nearly two years old - in his arms, he made sure you were comfortable in bed before turning off the light and leaving you to rest.

“I think it’s nap time for you too, sweetheart,” he mumbled as he carried Kenny back downstairs, noticing the way her eyes were drooping and she buried her face in his neck. He decided she could nap in the living room; there was less of a chance that you would hear her if she woke up crying. 

He gently laid her down on the sectional sofa and covered her up with a blanket. Fighting sleep for just another moment, her chubby finger jutted out past him.

“Dada,” she whined, and he followed the direction of her finger. Laying on the living room floor was the Pluto the dog stuffed animal that she loved so much. She never got a good sleep without him in her arms.

“You want Pluto, sweetheart?” He cooed, and she nodded tiredly. He quickly reached over across the floor to grab the yellow dog for her and placed him in her arms. She happily cuddled into him, eyes fully closed. Ashton pressed a loving kiss to her forehead. “Have a good nap, Kenny.”

Once he was sure she was asleep, he glanced around the living room for something to do. It had to be quiet, obviously. He had a sleeping wife upstairs and a sleeping daughter right next to him. He didn’t want to go far either, in case Kenny woke up. 

Ashton sat on the other end of the couch for a bit, scrolling through his phone and responding to a couple texts from the guys. It didn’t take long for him to get bored of sitting around, and he looked around again in search of something to entertain himself. He wasn’t used to doing nothing; he was always active, and with a daughter, a pregnant wife and the job of a musician, he was usually pretty occupied.

He spotted his yoga mat rolled up in the corner of the room, and decided that was a good plan. It was quiet and if he moved the coffee table a bit, there would be plenty of room. Kenny usually didn’t take very long naps, so he figured he could get a decent flow in before she woke up.

He ever so carefully moved the table and laid out his mat on the floor, wasting no time in getting into his flow. He took poses that felt good and made sure to get in some good stretches. He kept an eye on Kenny as well, making sure she didn’t roll too close to the edge of the couch.

As he got into downward dog, he heard a small whine and some shuffling coming from the couch. He peaked up and found Kenny sitting up. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and clutched Pluto tighter to her chest. Ashton couldn’t help but grin at her rosy cheeks and messy curls. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he cooed, staying in downward dog. “Did you have a good nap?”

She smiled and held up Pluto for him to see. Ashton chuckled fondly as he slowly lowered his knees to the ground and sat up right.

“Yeah, you and Pluto took a nap together.”

He pushed himself up to stand and walked over to the couch, lifting up the sleepy girl into his arms. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and smoothed the hair on her head.

“You hungry, sweetheart? Want to go have a snack?” He offered, mostly because he was feeling a bit hungry himself. She shook her head and pointed down to the yoga mat that was still on the floor. 

“That’s Daddy’s yoga mat,” he explained, wondering why she was suddenly taking an interest in it. “Can you say yoga, Kenny?”

“Oga,” she tried. Matching smiles spread across the two Irwin’s faces as Ashton nodded.

“That’s right, sweetheart!” He cheered. “You want to do yoga with Daddy?”

“Oga!” She repeated as she nodded enthusiastically. Ashton carefully set her on her feet and lowered himself to the mat as well. The fact that Kenny wanted to try yoga and be like her dad made his heart swell. He knew she wouldn’t be able to do many poses, considering she wasn’t even two years old yet, but it would still be fun for her to try.

“Watch Daddy, okay?” Ashton mumbled. Kenny dropped Pluto to the floor as she watched Ashton go back into downward dog. “This is called downward dog.”

“Dog,” she affirmed, causing Ashton to chuckle. She examined his pose for another moment before dropping her hands to the floor, doing her best to imitate Ashton. He watched her with a loving smile that only grew when she went into the pose - a baby’s version of the pose, that is. 

“You got it, sweetheart! Look at you, you’re doing yoga!” He cheered as they giggled together, their laughs nearly identical. You always swooned about how she got her laugh from Ashton, as well as her smile and curly hair. 

“More, Dada!” She exclaimed. She was always trying to copy Ashton, and this was just another thing that she would get to do with him. 

Ashton showed Kenny a few more simple poses and she did her best to imitate them as well as repeat the names. Even if she wasn’t fully doing everything correctly, she seemed to be having fun, which was all Ashton cared about. 

Upstairs, kicks from the twins woke you up from your nap. It was far too short, in your opinion, but you knew you weren’t going to be able to get back to sleep.

“You babies are hungry, huh?” You grumbled as you slowly sat up in bed, stretching your arms above your head. “I hear ya.”

You gently rubbed your protruding stomach as you waddled down the stairs. You were about to turn into the kitchen when you heard the familiar sound of your husband and daughter’s giggles coming from the living room. A smile spread across your face as you made your way there instead to find the two of them on Ashton’s yoga mat. They were both laying on their backs in happy baby pose, holding their feet up. 

Your smile only grew as you slipped your phone from the pocket of your sweats, capturing a quick picture of the precious moment. You loved watching the two of them together. Ashton was an amazing father with so much love for his daughter, and Kenny clearly admired him. They were so similar in many ways, and it melted your heart. You held so much love in your heart for both of them, and you couldn’t imagine your life without them.

You posted the photo to your Instagram story, with the playful caption, “Not even two yet and he’s already turning her into a yogi!”

Ashton noticed you as you stepped further into the room after posting the photo. The smile on his face grew a bit. He lowered his legs and rolled up to sit.

“Hey, honey,” he mumbled softly. He turned to Kenny as she moved to sit up as well. “Look who’s here, sweetheart!” 

Kenny’s eyes landed on you and her face lit up. She reached her arms up to you immediately, wanting to be held.

“Mama!” She cooed as you bent down to pick her up. “I do oga with Daddy!”

“I saw, baby! Did you have fun?” You replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She nodded in response, and Ashton came over to the two of you. He kissed you softly while his hand found the small of your back.

“We didn’t wake you, did we?” He asked sincerely and you shook your head. Ashton was an incredible husband. He took wonderful care of you, especially when you were pregnant. He wanted you to be as comfortable and happy as possible.

“No, the twins are kicking. I think they’re hungry. You guys want to have a snack with me?” You offered, looking between the two. Ashton got distracted by doing yoga with Kenny and forgot about his intention to eat.

“Sounds good to me.”

[dongiovannaswife]

No one like you | GioLena

Second part to Giorno’s birthday fic, this time nsfw!! Mdni. Please read the warnings and read responsibly.

CW: dry humping, oral (m receiving), breeding kink, stand play, overstimulation and edging, creampie, soft but rough (?) S*x, dirty talk, little tiny bit )( of manhandling and language warning (I mean,,,, lmao). In short: horny dons. Bonus; after care with soft moments and a bit of humor unu (little bit of jealously, but nothing exaggerated —includes food mentions.)

Tittle ref; no one like you by scorpions ;)

Set the night after gettting there —i didn’t had the energy to write all that, sorry ;w; 

Part 1.     Part 2.

When the sun rises high in the sky at noon, the couple arrives at the apartment once again after a short trip around the surroundings. Tourism, he had said to her in a cheeky tone —and even if they hadn’t bought anything at the moment, there were some souvenirs they had thought to get their family and friends, but nothing sure yet. Australia was a paradise, and Giorno couldn’t get enough of its beauty.

But right now, none of it was more important than the question lingering on his mind, tied explicitly to another kind of need.

Exploring the apartment, Giorno found himself wondering when his wife would lead him to the bedroom —he was more than eager to get there.

And soon enough, she looks up at him over her shoulder, hips swaying in a teasing manner as she opens the door, stepping inside in silence with him trailing behind. “And this, birthday boy, is the bedroom —as you can see this apartment is more of a small house.” She winks to finish her sentence, hands on her hips as she turns to look at him and stop before him. “Hope you like it, baby.”

Closing the door at his back, the Don’s green eyes quickly scan the room. White and beige walls surround them with the queen sized bed resting in the middle of it. The bedroom is connected to a bathroom through a burgundy door. It doesn’t have decorations yet, but he can think of them later.

Giorno almost purrs when his wife presses her chest against him, distracting him from everything; the sudden contact makes him shiver, feeling the size difference more than ever. The way she looks up at him through battling eyelashes and a fake innocent smile making him twitch instantly, starting to get hard.

“So,” he murmurs, finally getting back to that question, wrapping an arm around her hips, “You said you are my gift, didn’t you?” his hand drops lower, gripping at her ass. “Tell me, baby, do I get to fuck my pretty little wife already?” she whines, eyes closing with raw need as her fingers sink into his biceps. He chuckles, darkly even, as he leans over to kiss her forehead.

“Don’t get so shy now, you’ve been teasing me all day. Isn’t this what you meant?”

She hums, reaching up to cup his face and bring him down for a peck that becomes two, three, four until he growls onto her mouth, biting at her lip so she moans back, and taking advantage of it, his tongue quickly finds its way inside her mouth, exploring and tearing moans and gasps from her before he pulls away —a string of saliva connecting them as he pants, eyes closed and cheeks flushed.

“Gio,” she calls, breathless. “I wanna make this all about you.” She runs a sharp black nail over his jaw, smirking when he opens his eyes and his pupils almost hide the green pools she loves so much.

Giorno’s chuckle rumbles through his chest, devil like but still soft, “Baby, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You sure?”

She smirks, standing on her tiptoes while he bends over so she can reach his face. Tilting her face, she goes for his ear, where she whispers. “You know I am, Giovanna.”

He smirks, hands traveling downwards until he cups the back of her thighs, at first gripping at the flesh until the gentle feeling of her arms around his neck gives him the green light to lift her up, making her wrap her legs around his waist as he stands to his full height, walking blindly to the edge of the bed.

“Giobaby.” She murmurs in a singsong tone, leaning in for a kiss that doesn’t fail to make him stop and focus on it, grunting when she cups his face and presses her chest against him, making his mind race with all the thoughts he had been repressing.

“For fucks sake, Helena.” He murmurs when he breaks the kiss, panting against her lips as her lips curl up in a smirk. “You always do this.”

“What?” she murmurs as he finally makes it to the bed, turning and sitting at the end of it with her straddling his hips.

“Drive me crazy.” He hooks his fingers over the straps of her sundress, sliding them down until her shoulders, cleavages and a part of her chest are exposed —he leans down then, smirking and sighing once his lips land on the skin of her neck, leaving a few openmouthed kisses there as she sighs, arching her back onto his touch. “See?” he whispers, lips grazing her skin as he spreads his palms over her hips, trailing down until he brings the dress up to her hips and, with his hands settling there, his grip tightens as he pushes her to his clothed erection, pressing down enough to tear a delighted whimper from her. “That’s what you do, doll —make me so fucking hard.”

Lena’s breath is hitched and her voice is barely above a whisper as she mutters, cheeks flushed as she keeps pressing down onto him, “It’s so strange to hear you curse, baby.”

His chuckle sends a shiver down her spine. “Does it bother you?”

She hums in a negative answer, cupping his face and pressing down as she pushes her chest onto his, biting his lip so he opens his mouth and, this time, it’s her the one exploring his mouth as he gives up control, letting her grind and touch him as she pleases. Although he could push her down and take over, the feeling of her smaller form on top of his, dominating and tearing such deep and raspy moans from his mouth has his head spinning, lost in the moment.

“Tesoro,” she calls between pecks. He grunts, hands clasping around her waist as he coaxes her into moving on top of him, simulating her movements as if she was riding him. “Mhm,” a moan cuts her off, but she keeps on through pants and the smallest of voices. “Do you trust me?”

Giorno’s hands stop their movement, letting her sit on his clothed cock as he gives her a soft, half lidded gaze. “With my life,” he confesses. “Why?”

His answer comes when the smell of lemon tea fills his senses as she reaches over, unwrapping his left hand from around her waist and places her open palm against his, intertwining her fingers in a silent confirmation that she truly trusts him —all while her eyes never leave his, serious despite the need behind the sweet light brown of these. The language of her orbs asks for his consent, for a way to keep going.

His fingers intertwine with hers, slowly but firm enough to make her smile at the feeling of his warm hand clasping hers. The rustle of a chain emerging from her ribcage makes him look down as it circles all her arm from the elbow until it reaches his hand, where it wraps around his hand and travels down to his wrist, where it forges a connection between them, represented when the chain closes it around itself, the red from the fire subsiding until it turns into black.

A warm feeling spreads through his wrist and down his arm, reaching his shoulder and quickly spreading through his chest as Wire starts to act upon him. If he had to put it into a metaphor, then he’d compare it to the feeling of someone digging into his soul, looking for the place his stand resided. Some could claim the soul overtook the shape of the body, but he was sure the soul existed apart from the body.

Wire can extract a part of the soul —and despite how scary that is, technically, he doesn’t feel anything but admiration as his wife leans closer, kissing his lips as her stand looks through him in search of that special part of his stand that she needs.

The chain comes back to life, shining red for a moment before her eyes turn golden when she breaks the kiss —and he takes this as a sign that she found it, and is burrowing it.

She smiles, letting the chain disappear. It is not necessary to keep it out while she uses the ability.

“Ready, baby?” she asks, hands massaging his shoulders while she expects an answer.

“Always, amor.”

She grins, letting Gold Experience’s power flow through her.

And then, the cool air from the room hits Giorno’s skin. Looking down with a raised eyebrow, he’s met with the sight of every piece of cloth of his turned into sunflowers, pooling around them. Chuckling in amusement, he looks back at her, noticing her dress still on. “Aren’t you overdressed, sweetheart?”

She shakes her head, standing from his lap and, parting his legs with her hands on his thighs, she kneels between them —a mischievous smirk present on her face as she replies, “Patience, Giogio: we’re just getting started. This is your gift, remember? After this, you can do whatever you want.” The warm feeling from before comes back as the soft scent of lemon tea fills his senses: that part of his stand is back.

He groans, “You know I get selfish when you say things like th— fuck.” He tenses his jaw, mouth falling closed as he stares at the image before him: her hands are so small she has to use both to circle his cock, black nails contrasting with her pale skin and making the vein on the side of his length stand out as she slowly pumps him, using one of her thumbs to spread the precum through the head, and down as she keeps lowering her caresses. She stares back at him through battling eyelashes, as she leans in, slowly and teasing. Her tongue darts out, licking her lips first before she kisses the tip, circling her tongue around it and sucking it in inside as far as she can go without hurting herself.

“Baby,” he mutters through gritted teeth, hands reaching out to tangle themselves through her curls, gathering them into a messy bun; even with the thought of snapping his hips up and burying his fingers onto her scalp, he stays still, fingers carefully trading through her hair so he doesn’t mess up with it. “Don’t hurt yourself.” He murmurs lasts, thinking back to that time she opened her mouth far beyond her limit, cutting off the side of her mouth. Despite his desperation, the last thing he could think of was harming her.

She hums around him, sending him a kind look before she closes her eyes, bobbing her head up and down as her hands work around the rest of him. Giorno’s eyes close as he throws his head back, mouth falling open as he allows himself to let loose. Being his voice the only thing he still has control over, he allows himself to whine, moan and groan as she keeps on.

A sudden moan from her sends a shiver down his spine, making him throb. His eyes open immediately as he looks down, watching as she rubs her thighs together, hands and mouth still around him. A smirk crosses his features as he grunts, slipping a hand into her jaw to make him look up at him.

She pulls away enough to look up at him. Drool and precum stain her lips and chin, and the sight almost makes him burst right there.

“As much as I love your mouth, I want you in all fours, hm?”

She hums, letting go off him —he lets go of her hair, letting it fall down around her shoulders and waist in waves. Some curls long undone, instead hanging in messy wavy strands. Giorno extends a hand out, supporting her as she stands up and, without letting go of her hand, he stands from the bed too, following her lead as she circles him, “Wait,” he whispers, seeing her stop with her back against him. Stepping closer he presses himself against her, leaning down to speak directly into her ear. “I’d like to tear this dress off you, but I would love to fuck you on it later.” He chuckles as she shivers against him. His hands reach forward, lifting the dress above her head and, throwing it somewhere around the room, his eyes scan her immediately, freezing on a certain piece of cloth still reminding.

Lace panties. Intricate designs that wrap around her hips, teasing and elegant all in one.

Giorno chuckles, running his palm over her hip, pressing himself into her backside, “Anything else you’d like to surprise me with?”

“Perhaps,” she mutters back, twisting her head still in her position and, kissing his cheek, she kneels in the bed, not before whispering something else before she gets into position. “Look closely, baby.”

She bends over, elbows propped into the bed as she arches her back, pushing her hips back in the act.

His breath hitches as he notices, feeling himself get harder —lust growing even more, he almost chokes on his own saliva as he comes to realization that these lace panties are nothing more but crotchless lace panties.

Another chuckle rumbles through his chest, deeper. “I see why you decided not to turn around, wish my birthday was every day.”

She laughs, looking back at him over her shoulder, “It doesn’t have to be, or am I doing something wrong?”

“Don’t misinterpret me, bunny.” He grips at her hips as he stands between her legs, at the edge of the bed. “I said it earlier,” he grips at himself, rubbing her clit with the tip. “You drive me crazy every day, always. Forever. Whatever,” he growls as his mind starts to wander, lost in the feeling of her folds as he rubs his cock over them, teasingly. “You get me.”

She hums, forgetting the conversation as she sighs, letting her face touch the bed as whimpers fall from her lips, murmurs of his name in between as she wiggles her hips, desperate for him.

And he chuckles once again, running a finger up and down her entrance, gathering the fluid in it and smearing it over himself. “Look at this, all this just from sucking me off?” He pushes in, confident that she won’t be hurt after checking in. “So?” he murmurs, awaiting an answer as he keeps pushing in, letting her adjust to his size.

“Mhm,” she murmurs in affirmation, gripping at the sheets as she pants. “Just for you…” she bites her lip as he finally bottoms out, palms spread over her hips. “You’re so big — ‘m full.” Lena’s words become slurred by the end, cursing under her breath.

“I know, baby.” His fingers trace circles over her hip as he pulls out, slamming back again slowly. Enough to help her adjust and get comfortable. “But look how well you take me.” He thrusts again, fingers tightening around her hips in a bruising grip as he thrusts again, short and hard.

The moan that falls from her lips makes him smirk, thrusting once more as he stops, going as deep as he can go and reaching his hands out to her sides he pulls her against him.

Calloused fingers trace up as he sucks a hickey into her shoulder, feeling her tremble and grip at him at the same time. He’s dying to touch more. “Lena,” his hands cup her breasts carefully, almost like he’s scared to hurt her. “Does this feel good?” it had been a while since he had gotten to touch her chest, aware of her sensitiveness left from breastfeeding the boys —but lately, he had noticed her starting to get comfortable enough to press her chest onto him. It was like a silent signal.

And now, with her pleased hum and the way her head rolls into him, nothing else could confirm his suspicions. Rolling her nipples between his fingers, he starts moving again. Sharp, hard thrusts that have her reaching out to grip at his hair and moaning his name.

The wet sounds of skin meeting skin mixed with her moans make him groan and moan, cursing every time she grips particularly hard. Wrapping an arm around her middle, he supports her like that, flush against him as he keeps going, his other hand busy playing with her chest as his lips bruise the skin of her neck and shoulder, moans distorting his words every time he talks; pure filth leaves his lips as he does, voice deeper and filled with cockiness.

“Do you remember, doll?” he stops to accentuate his words with a hard thrust, waiting a moment to pull out and slam back in. She shudders, fingernails sinking into the arm around her waist as a moan leaves her lips and she leans her head back. Eyes blown out and cheeks red, she seems to plead for him as her lips part but nothing comes out, only pants. Giorno’s eyes quickly find the contrast between the hickeys and bite-marks all over her shoulders and neck, finding the image too much to bear. Closing his eyes and giving another thrust, he slows down so he can focus and speak, eyes boring into hers. “The last time I had you like this, well,” he smirks, snapping his hips into hers slowly now as he leans right before her ear, “You know what happened. Who happened.”

She mumbles something incoherent, nodding her head a couple of times as a moan tears through and her hips meet his for the first time —and Giorno’s heart skips a beat when he feels her gush around him, walls closing around him like a vice. His laugh rumbles through his chest, warm and teasing as he goes back to his bruising pace, hand leaving her chest and traveling down until the pads of two fingers find her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves slowly; and pressing down when her hips starts to imitate the movement. All while she keeps gushing around him, panting and moaning his name.

“Gonna cum, baby.” She murmurs, broken and needy. He’s sure her nails are leaving marks, but he doesn’t care.

His hips stop immediately. The sudden loss of friction makes her whine, looking back at him through her shoulder as he pulls his hands away, lips curled in a devilish smirk as he coos at her to wait. Leaning down to steal a kiss, his tongue darts out as he licks her lips, humming when he tastes himself on her lips. She hums back, trying to reach for him.

But he’s faster, arms reaching out and laying her down into the bed —then, as he kneels in the bed, he pulls her up so she ends up laying completely in the middle of the bed. Parting her thighs with his hands, he kneels between her legs, massaging the trembling thighs as he looks down at her through half lidded eyes full of lust.

His eyes don’t fail to take her in every detail: cheeks red, lips parted and brow furrowed while she tries to process what just happened. Sensitive upon the loss of her orgasm. Hands at each side of her head, palms exposed and chest heaving with her elaborated breathing. Her hair, with some curls doubling the size as they become loose strands of wavy hair, frame her head as the sudden movement made them end up spread through the pillow under her head.

“Sorry angel,” he murmurs. “But I wanna cum inside of you —wanna fill you up nice and deep.” He smiles softly despite the intensity of his confession, leaning down to kiss her forehead and humming once her hands place themselves on his back, warm palms spread open. His hands reach forward, tearing open the panties —she doesn’t even care, lost on him. Not even when he throws both pieces of cloth that used to be her panties away, almost like that didn’t happen.

Her chuckle against his lips rises goosebumps on his skin as he pulls away just enough for her to talk. “Eager to make more so soon, love?”

He smirks, stealing one more kiss before he straightens his back. “You know we can’t because of your IUD,” he reaches down at his cock, guiding the tip in and pressing it in, watching with a bigger smirk as her mouth hangs open and her eyes close. “But as soon as we decide it’s time to give the boys a brother or sister,” he leans in, kissing her nose and leaning back while he takes both of her thighs, pulling her legs up his shoulders. Twisting his head to kiss her calves, he shoots her a wink as he ends up his small speech. “You’ll remember my words.” Reaching a hand out, he rubs her clit while pushing in, keeping track of her gestures so he doesn’t hurt her —when there’s no sign of discomfort and he’s bottomed out, Giorno’s eyes shot up to hers, holding her gaze for a moment. Softening, he leans in with her calves still on his shoulders. Only when she puts her hand on his chest in a signal that it’s too much pressure and stimulation he stops, mumbling. “I love you,” before he starts moving slowly. He can feel himself reaching deeper, feel her breathing against his face every time she moans and whispers.

“I love you too,” she whimpers out, “Happy birthday, baby.” She trails off, eyes closing as he hits that spot. Her nails sink into his chest, leaving red marks as she trails them down, unaware of her actions as she keeps moaning, mumbling how good it feels, asking him to keep going —and, low but audible for him, asking for his cum.

He groans, eyes closing tightly as his thrusts become erratic, desperate and, as he gets closer, sloppier and messier with each passing second.

Just when her palms leave his chest and circle his back, nails back at the skin of his back he opens his eyes, watching her melt as she comes around him, a high-pitched moan escaping and, right after, raging breaths stop her from breathing normally as her eyes lazily open to look at him. The sting from her nails leaving more red angry marks bring him to the edge as he licks his lip, biting on it before his mouth hangs open. Hot spurts shoot inside of her, tearing a few whimpers from her as Giorno shudders, burying his forehead into her chest as he goes for the last thrusts.

Only when he’s almost through his orgasm he buries himself as deep as he can go, putting his hands at each side of her head, taking a deep breath so he kneels in the bed, putting her legs down, at each side of his hips.

Lena’s hands reach out for him, cupping the back of his head and, with a small tug, Giorno quickly moves so she can get access to his face and neck, not without cursing under his breath as he watches her move under him —even when she whimpers with the sudden stimulation, she still leans in, sucking a hickey into his jaw, letting go as soon as she’s sure her mark is there: her head falls into the pillow and she keeps trying to come down.

“You okay, Lena?” he asks through pants, looking down at the place they’re still connected, noticing the way some of the mixed fluids trail down into the sheets even when he’s still inside. Feeling the marks sting deliciously.

“Hmh,” she hums, finger tracing the red marks on his arm. “You?”

He laughs, genuinely. “Of course —and I’m going to feel even better after this.”

She hums inquisitively.

Pulling out, he watches her mouth hang open for a moment, oversensitive from her orgasm and, of course, feeling it dripping out.

And he stays there, kneeling between her legs, watching his cum drip out slowly, staining the sheets as she whines. Cheeks flushed in a mix of pleasure and embarrassment.

“It’s okay, baby.” He whispers, noticing the last, “That’s…” he cleans his throat when he drifts out, mesmerized with the image. “—So fucking hot.”

She laughs, hands covering her face. “What a way to break in an apartment.”

Giorno laughs too, standing from the bed to retrieve a washcloth from the bathroom. From there, he decides against it —asking instead, “Wanna take a shower, tesoro? Doubt you want to sleep like that after… That.”

Turning on her side, she frowns when the pain from his grip around her hips shoots through the zone and down her legs. “Yeah,” she shouts back, laughing quietly afterwards. “You just fucked my brains out —and I’m gonna walk like Bambi.”

Giorno’s snort is not missed as he starts to get the shower ready. Taking both their shampoos close and a soft, enjoyable body wash close, he puts two sets of towels within his reach. Walking back into the room, he allows Gold Experience out.

“Ready?” he asks, looking for one of his shirts for her to wear. “Goldie will take care of the sheets and the clothes.”

With the stand nuzzling her cheek as he hugs her from behind, Lena hums, mumbling her answer. “Uh-uh. But you’ll have to carry me, my legs are like jelly.”

He shakes his head, chuckling as he stands with a white t-shirt and her panties. “As expected, sweetheart.” He put the clothes in the bathroom, coming back to retrieve a pair of black boxers for him. Repeating the action, he struts back in the room with a small smile as he gets to feel the faint touch of her hands around his waist. The image before him confirms his suspicions; laying her head on Gold Experience’s chest, she nuzzles against him, sighing contently.

“Everything’s ready, Lena.” He comes to stop before the bed, sitting down at the edge. Reaching out, he puts his palm all over her thigh, noticing her frown upon the pain in the zone. “Sorry, angel. I’ll make up.”

“It’s okay,” she sits up, struggling for a moment. Even then, her lips curl up in the sweetest of smiles. “I loved it.” She winks last, making him blush as he shakes his head, standing back again.

“Doesn’t mean I’ll let you go around all sore, though.” Passing an arm under her legs and the other behind her back, he lifts her up bridal style, walking into the bathroom.

“Alright,” she laughs quietly, kissing his chest, right where the owl tattoo starts. “But please know I loved it when you kept cursing.”

“Oh?” finally inside the bathroom, Giorno stands and kicks the door close with Lena still on his arms, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk. “Is that so? Horny baby.”

She laughs, wholeheartedly —red lights her cheeks up as he puts her down, circling her waist with an arm. His smile doesn’t fade as he helps her get under the shower, holding her up while her hands circle his waist.

“Hot or cold water?” he asks in a whisper, mumbled into her hair.

“Cold?”

The water starts running down. At first, she shivers under its touch, moving closer to him as he keeps holding her up. As they stand underneath the cold water, Giorno’s lips land on every hickey and bite mark, hands roaming through the spots he bruised to try and soothe the bruises. All his touch and the water leave on their path are goosebumps as Lena hums, leaning further onto him.

Lifting her head from his chest, Lena reaches out to turn off the water, grabbing Giorno’s shampoo from the side. Pouring some of it into the palm of her hand, she shoots him a brief look before he’s leaning into her —arms around her waist as he keeps holding her up, and face pressed into her shoulder so she can reach his hair. Massaging his scalp, the mint scent soon fills her senses and she smiles without even knowing. Humming a low tune, she keeps spreading the bubbles through his mane, making sure it doesn’t get into his eyes.

Water runs down Giorno’s hair and back —with his eyes closed and lips pressed in a tight line as she holds his breath in, Lena works quickly, getting some of his soap into her hands and washing his face in light touches. Washing it all off, she reaches for the towel to dry his eyes first. Green eyes open slowly, finding her grinning down at him, soft and in love.

“Your turn.” He murmurs, reaching out to her shampoo. The honey scent from it makes him sigh dreamily as he holds her closer, repeating the routine with her. He takes his time, hands trailing as he washes her off carefully, pressing kisses to every little bruise he finds. Any spot that could be sore in a few hours, he makes sure to kiss it and soothe it. He makes her lift a leg, holding it in his hand so he can clean her intimate areas, taking special care with how he does it so no soap gets inside —her hold around his neck is tight as her other leg shakes a bit. As soon as he’s done, she intends to do the same for him, but Giorno’s whispers makes her stop, reasoning with her that it’s too much for her. That, instead, she should just hold onto him while he makes sure to get the rest done. Even when she protests at first, he soon finds a way to convince her.

Forged in Fire in the background, the couple lays on the couch, watching the show with deep interest. As the introduction to the Scottish claymore starts, Giorno growls lowly, mumbling under his breath.

Lena frowns, ignoring David Baker’s brief appearance much to her dismay —Giorno would find amusing her admiration for him; he’s talented and his outfits are always on point, she’d say before rambling about the times he had forged in camera, — turning around to face her husband, she puts a gentle arm around his waist, settling her palm on his back. Giorno’s hand finds its place on her butt, spread open as he holds her shirt in place; even then, his finger still makes contact with the soft fabric of her underwear, and he takes note of it.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she asks in a whisper, eyes looking up at his through curly eyelashes.

“I’m hungry.” He mumbles with a frown of his own, uncomfortable with his sudden need.

Her smile lights up the room. “Not a problem. Should we get food delivered?”

He thinks about it for a second, “Fine, but I’ll open the door.”

Lena raises an eyebrow, looking at him incredulously. “You’re literally the one wearing boxers.” She looks down at him, blushing at the sight of his v line, but quickly looking up to find him smirking.

“Yeah,” he hooks a finger on the hem of her shirt —which is, in fact, his given the way the fabric pools around her thighs and the sleeves reach her forearms. She’s literally swimming in that shirt. “But you’re wearing nothing but panties and my shirt: and the latter, baby, is white. As soon as you step out,” he almost rolls his eyes at the thought, playful but holding a dose of reality. “Let’s say I don’t want to break someone’s nose.”

Lena laughs, flustered. She still nods, counterattacking. “Fine, I’ll take it. But,” one of Wire’s chains reaches out, retrieving her phone from the coffee table. “I’ll do it because one; I can’t walk and two; I don’t wanna step out like this.”

“Why?” he asks, genuinely concerned, would it be possible for her to feel insecure? Or…?

“It’s my day off and I don’t feel like explaining to the police or the locals why my husband punched a delivery man and I shouldn’t have to attend to a broken nose like this.”

He nods, containing his laughter —that joke got to him and he can’t deny it. “Alright, alright.” He hums, extending his hand out in silent question for her phone: when she places the device on his hand and he looks at the bakeries around the zone, a question emerges and even if he already knows the answer he still asks, already tapping the option to request said treat, “Any cravings, doll?”

“Carrot cake, of course! Wait,” she looks on, squinting with a funny crack on her nose. “I should ask that. It’s your birthday.”

He laughs, shaking his head. With a playful undertone, he says: “Okay, ask then.”

Batting her eyelashes like nothing happened, she shifts until her arms rest on his chest and she’s propping herself on the couch with her elbows, half laying on top of him. “Is there something you wish, Giobaby?”

Giorno’s breath hitches as he stares at her —she’s pretty. No, he thinks, perfect like this. Dressed on his shirt and so natural with no make-up; hair lightly out of place with beautiful wild curls framing her features. Kind brown eyes that bore into his soul with the sweetest of looks. And he knows that he’s so down and, at the same time, that doesn’t even worry him like it used to do when he met her, when his feelings started. Oh, no; right there, all he can do is reach out, cupping her face with a warm, large hand. Voice in a whisper, deep and soft as he murmurs, “Carrot cake.”

[theangriestpea]

Game On | Sweet Pea

Summary: You and Sweet Pea have been playing a game of chase for months. Now it was time to end the growing sexual tension. <ao3> <kink masterlist>

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.9k+

Warnings: Smut, Choking, Mild daddy kink, Dirty talk, Sweet Pea actually wearing a condom for once.

A/N:  Anon request! I can't believe I wrote this in a few hours? Although its kinda meh so that's apparent lmao. Requested dialogue prompts are in bold! Also using this for my "Free Space" square on my @riverdalebingo​ Kink Bingo card.

You and Sweet Pea had been stringing each other along for months now. It was a game of cat and mouse that didn’t seem like it was ever going to end. Tonight was no different, you had on a particularly revealing outfit that you knew would grab his attention. Especially as you popped her ass out while leaning over the bar to whisper something to Toni. It was obvious what you were doing, but you didn’t care. You wanted this game to end. Tonight.

You heard a catcall whistle behind you, causing you to straighten your posture and turn around. You leaned back against the bar casually as you took in the sight of the tall, handsome Serpent in front of you. Your eyes locked and you wet your lips with your tongue playfully.

Sweet Pea bit his lip as his eyes roved downward, sweeping down your body before coming back up. The look on his face was pure satisfaction of the view in front of him. Clearly a low cut crop top and tight miniskirt were the way to go.

You couldn’t help but quirk a brow at his display of approval, “Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘Cause if you did, we’re having sex. Right now.” Though your tone was sarcastic, you were saying nothing but the truth. You had every intention of fucking him tonight. Obviously by the smirk he was giving you, the feeling was totally mutual.

His eyebrows raised slightly in surprise at your comment. It had always just been innuendo with you two, this was totally new territory. But, Sweet Pea found that he was very into it. “Right now? On this bar? In front of everyone, princess? You’re feeling dirty tonight.”

You laughed in response, pushing yourself off from the bar so that you could step forward into his personal space. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I always thought you had a little exhibitionist kink hiding somewhere inside of you, Sweets. Want to prove your dominance in front of all your serpent buddies, show them what a real man can do?”

His hands found your waist and held onto it with a firm grip. You couldn’t believe how big his hands were, they were simply massive and all you could suddenly think about were all the things he could do with them. “You know me so well, don’t you?” He whispered into your ear. “But I’m pretty sure Hog-Eye would nail me to the wall if I had sex with a fine little snake like you on his bar.”

A giggle escaped your throat as you grabbed onto the lapels of his leather jacket. “Your place then?” You probed, hoping that he’d agree. “Or mine?”

“Hmm,” He hummed. “My place. It’s closer.” He leaned his head down and captured your lips with his own. It was deep and passionate, full of the want that had built up over so much time. He could barely hold himself back from going further. However, after a moment he pulled away to laugh at your pouting face. “Saddle up, Doll.” He said, “You’re in for a ride.”

It didn’t take long to get to his trailer as he was literally right around the corner from the bar. The entire time you had your body pressed against his back, hands roving underneath his jacket to get a feel for his broad chest.

After parking, you quickly hopped off the back. He turned to take the sight of you in again before getting up. “You really want to do this?” He asked casually, hiding his hope that you did.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, “would I have had to drive me here if I didn’t? Stop stalling and take me inside so I can have that ride you were speaking so highly of.”

Sweet Pea chuckled as he took you inside of his trailer. There was a typical amount of mess for a single guy living by himself, take out boxes on the table. Half empty beer bottles laying around. An ashtray full of ash and cigarette butts. At least it didn’t smell terrible and there were no visible bugs. “You’re such a guy.” You muttered, unable to stop yourself.

“If you wanted a five star hotel, baby, then we could have gone to your place.” He replied sarcastically as he took off his boots and jacket. “I hope you didn’t expect it to look like the Five Seasons. Maid service isn’t until tomorrow.”

“Ass,” You replied, pushing him jokingly as you walked passed to inspect the rest of his home. Sweet Pea was right behind you, smacking you on the ass to hurry you up. You couldn’t help but laugh as you got to his room. You were unsurprised to find dirty laundry strewn everywhere and what you assumed to be clean launder in a pile. “Wow, Pea, you really do need a maid.”

“Nah, I just need a good girlfriend to teach me how to fold clothes.” He said mockingly as he turned your body around so he could initiate another kiss. You kissed him back, ignoring his misogynistic remark. It was just as fiery as the one back at the Wyrm had been, his hands now daring to rove down across your ass to give it a firm squeeze.

You let out a small groan at his touch, your own hands sneaking up his shirt in order to get him to pull it off. Pea laughed lightly as he did so, “can’t wait to get my naked, huh Doll?” He asked with that same signature smirk.

“I’ve been trying to get you naked for months, you just can’t take a hint.” You replied cattily before pulling off your own shirt. Sweet Pea watched with delight before reaching around you and unclasping your bra so that he could take it off.

“I like playing hard to get.” He teased taking each breast in his hands in order to knead them. “Fangs is going to be so jealous I got to do this. He’s been wanting to touch these even longer than I have.”

You rolled your eyes, “Tell Fogarty to stop dreaming about using my boobs as pillows because he’s not my type. If he wants to touch boobs so bad then he can make Kevin grow some.”

Sweet Pea laughed, backing you up until you fell back onto the bed. His hands snaked down your body and to your skirt, prying it off your hips hungrily. “Oh daddy, now who’s not wasting any time?”

His head shot up at the nickname, “daddy?” He asked, curiously. “I think I like that.”

“I knew you would.” You cooed back before pulling him on top of you in order to kiss him again. Your tongues met, battling it out even though you knew he would win. Fuck he was such a good kisser, you thought you were going to melt into the bed sheets just from the feel of his lips on yours.

Sweet Pea moved his hips against yours and you could feel his erection through his pants rubbing against your thigh. He moaned into the kiss as you reached down to tug off his belt and unbutton his jeans. His lips quickly moved to your neck, trailing down as you tried to get his pants off.

Without taking his lips off your skin, he pulled his jeans down and kicked them off before putting one hand on your chest and another between your legs. A finger trailed across your slit over your underwear, causing him to snicker against your collarbone. “Someone’s moist. I’ve barely even touched you.”

“Just looking at you gets me wet, daddy.” You teased pushing your hips down to feel more friction against his fingers. He began to pad at your clit through your underwear, reducing you into a whining mess beneath him.

Sweet Pea would be smirking if he wasn’t biting at your shoulder teasingly, finger moving faster so that the sighs coming from you grew louder. After a few minutes you reached down to grab him through his underwear. “You better give me this cock, Pea.” You practically growled at him, “I’m ready, stop stalling.”

“It’s called foreplay, princess.” Sweet Pea said, sitting up as he bucked his hips into your hand playfully. “But if you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask nicely.”

You groaned at him, “ Please , fuck me into his mattress. Wear out my wet pussy with your dick so we can both finally get what we want.”

He laughed a bit then as he stood long enough to take off his boxers and your underwear. He grabbed a condom, opening the wrapper with his teeth in a way that sent a thrill down your spine and into your core.

Sweet Pea rolled the rubber on as you spread your legs for him. He settled between them, guiding himself into you with ease. You heard him curse under his breath as he began pumping in and out at a smooth pace while he attacked your mouth with his own.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, moving your body in sync with his as he sped up. One hand trailed to the base of your throat, hovering there as he pressed down firmly, forefinger and thumb threatening to wrap around at any moment.

He broke the kiss to inhale deeply, his thrusts getting harder each time he pushed back in until the headboard was slamming loudly against the wall. “Choke me,” You begged him, assuring him that it was alright. A cruel smile twisted on his lips as he moved his grip up to your throat, pressing on your pressure points expertly.

“You like that, baby girl?” He asked, “me fucking your tight pussy while I choke you? Fuck, I knew you were bad when I first laid eyes on you.”

His pace was impossibly fast now, the bed squeaking so loud that you were sure it would break. Your eyes rolled, vision waning as he cut off your blood flow. Your climax was rising, tension curling inside your abdomen as you couldn’t help but moan. He was pushing you so far down that you thought the mattress might start to envelope you completely.

“You gonna cum all over my cock, princess?” He asked, sensing that you were close. He released his grip on your throat so that blood surged once more. The rush made you feel dizzy and elated at the same time. He grabbed onto your hips to adjust the angle, and now he was hitting that sweet spot that had your toes curling and mouth screaming as you came.

Sweet Pea didn’t let up, keeping up his rough pace and bruising your hip bones with his grip. He waited until your moans slowly died down and became soft whimpers. Only then did he let his pace slacken, his sloppy thrusts allowing him to finally orgasm.

He collapsed on top of you, careful not to harm you with his weight. “Fuck, baby, that was amazing.”

You trailed a finger up his spine, teasing him with your light touch. “I hope you’re not tired after just round one, Sweets. I have much more planned for you tonight.”

He couldn’t help but laugh into your neck, “dirty girl. You’ll be all used up by the time I’m done with you.”

You let your nails graze his shoulders threateningly. “Game on.”

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[feistypaants-archived]

Between The Pipes [Chapter 21]

Rating: M Words: 1946 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When a new owner takes over the Arendelle Ice Breakers, Kristoff isn’t sure about his future with the team. That is, until a PR nightmare throws the newest member of the media team, who also just so happens to be the daughter of the new owner, right into his arms. Kristoff and Anna can’t even stand the interviews they have to do together… how on earth are they going to fix this mess? Hockey!AU.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3]

Notes: This chapter is smut, mostly. There are some feelings at the end, though :^)

Also didn’t really read over this bc I’m sick of looking @ it lmao !! Sorry for any mistakes. 

Enjoy!

Anna never said she had self control. So when Kristoff asked if she wanted to take one or both cars back to his house, she pretty immediately suggested they drive together in his truck. 

She waited patiently while he showered and gathered up his gear before emerging from the locker room, hair still damp and cheeks flushed, and she waited patiently while he gathered up his things and spoke with Mattias about the next game. But her patience was wearing thin as he fumbled for his keys in his duffel as she bounced on her toes, absolutely ready to be in the truck. 

“And men say women have bags too large,” Anna snickered as she pulled a hair tie off of her wrist and spun it between her fingers for a moment. “Why would you put your keys in there?”

“You wanna drive?” He mumbled, placing his bag on top of the hood as he dug deeper, frustration clearly etching into his features. He didn’t notice Anna pull the band between her teeth before gathering her hair up into a large messy bun on top of her head. 

“No,” she hummed, tying it off, and dropping her hands back behind her, clasping them together as innocently as she could. 

“Then stop — a-ha! found them!” He pulled them out of the back triumphantly, a grin wide on his face. But he paused for a second, tilting his head slightly to the side. “You put your hair up.”

Scrunching her lips to the side, Anna averted her gaze for just a moment. “I did.”

“Looks nice.” Then he shrugged and unlocked the truck, smiling as Anna scrambled into it while he threw his equipment into the bed.

She took a quick moment to undo the top few buttons of her blouse, pinch at her lips before running her tongue over them, hoping to make her mouth look more plush, and then sat up straight as Kristoff opened his door and climbed in, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously. “... You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

Anna pulled her bottom lip up between her teeth and smiled, rolling her eyes. “Of course not.” But then she leaned across the seats, sliding her fingers through his hair and kissed him, deep and slow, tongue teasing him as he reached out to touch her. His hands were eager, one resting on her neck as the other reached to touch at the swell of her breast, newly exposed by her lowered neckline, and Anna sighed with content as he let out a small moan when she pulled away. 

Her mouth found his throat, pressing two hot kisses against it before she dropped her hand to his thigh, fingertips brushing against his hardening cock. Anna lifted up slightly, her lips feather light against his as she whispered “Just drive.”

The height of his truck gave her confidence, knowing that it was unlikely anyone would see them. She leaned back as Kristoff started the truck, smirking at the sight of his shorts tenting in his lap. She turned herself to a more comfortable position in the truck, leaned forward, and started rubbing him through the fabric.

A happy sigh escaped her lips as she pulled the waistband over him, revealing exactly what she had been looking for. “God, I’m so lucky you have this,” she laughed, tongue darting out over her lips before she reached out to stroke him once, slowly, agonizingly slowly. “Best dick I’ve ever sucked.”

“Jesus Christ, Anna…” his voice was tense and she glanced up to see his jaw working and his knuckles white from his grip on the steering wheel. “Please.”

Well, since he said please…

Her soft tongue teased him, a small circle around the tip as she savored the taste of him. Then a bigger one, a long lick up the entire length of him, and then she lowered herself slowly, her lips circling the girth of him as she took as much of him as she could. A string of curses were whispered above her head, as his right hand dug fingers into her scalp. 

Anna wanted this to last, wanted to make sure he was practically begging for release by the time they got to his house, and wanted him to be more satisfied than ever. So she took her time, teasing, bobbing slowly, lifting her mouth off of him and giving gentle strokes with her fingers. The drive to his house wasn’t long, but the grip of his hand in her hair tightening told her he was sick of her teasing. 

“We — we’re…” his speech was broken as she sucked him, sliding up and down the length of him with ease. “A...almost there, Anna…”

Perfect.

She sped up her ministrations, hollowing her cheeks as she slid up to his head, teasing with her tongue at the slit of him, running the flat side of it back down his length as she worked her way downwards. 

“Fuck, Jesus…” 

That was a good sign, and she sound of him pulling off the road, pressing a clicker to open what sounded like gates, before stopping the car and squeezing his fingers tightly against his skull was even better. 

“We’re here... I’m—” 

He groaned when she nodded, sucking hard and faster, one hand embracing the bit of him she couldn’t reach with her lips as her other cupped his sac, playing gently with his sensitive skin. And then his fingers were drumming hard against the steering wheel, his hips thrusting slightly up into her mouth, and he tried so hard to give her the option of not taking his release on her tongue, but Anna stayed where she was, encouraging as ever.

And he came, his hot cum spilling over her tongue, Anna swallowing it with as much enthusiasm as she had during everything. She sucked him through his orgasm, cleaning off any remainder of mess left on his skin. And when she rose back up, wiping off the tiny bit of him she felt on the corner of her lips, Kristoff reached across the truck, practically pulling her into his lap as he kissed her, hard and wild, breathless as ever.

“What was that for?” He was panting, breathless and flushed as he pulled back and let his eyes dance across her face.

Anna smiled, running a palm down his now scratchy cheek. “It was… an appetizer.”

He groaned and laughed, his head dropping back against the headrest behind him. “Well… then you’ll have to be dessert.”

—

“So,” Anna hummed, leaning over the table and reaching for his hand. “You’re talented, funny, hot, kind, great with kids, fucking amazing at sex, and you can cook?” She rolled her eyes and propped her chin in her hand. “What can’t you do?”

Kristoff’s cheeks flushed but he laughed her off, letting go of her hand as he moved to clear off the table. “Ah, don’t think too highly of me, seriously.” 

She leaned back in her chair with a grin. “Why not? You’re the whole package. What a shame you’re not willing to settle down.”

The way his back tensed told her she had said the wrong thing and she stood quickly. “No, I, um.” Anna fumbled to grab the rest of the dishes and came up beside him at the sink. “I didn’t mean… I just… you really are an ideal guy, Kris.” And she would give anything for him to settle down with her... “But I… I’m not saying —“

He sighed and reached over to grab the glasses from her hands. “I know…”

Anna bit at her lip before wrapping her arms around his bicep and rubbing a gentle hand against his shirt. “Do… you want to watch something?” She grinned up at him and shrugged. “Or … not watch something.”

His laughter eased her worries, and he touched gently at her hand on his arm. “Anna… are you sure you’re still…” he paused, turned to face her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’re still okay with this, right? This arrangement? Because if you’re not —“

“I am!” Her cheeks darkened as she answered far too quickly. “I am. Are you?”

“Yes.”

She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, sliding her lips over his. “Good,” she mumbled, giggling when his arms circled around her waist and lifted her up onto the counter, settling her knees on either side of his hips. 

His mouth trailed across her skin, settling for far too little time behind her ear before he found her throat, kissing and sucking at the fragile skin there. Anna could feel the mark he was leaving, knew he was being too rough on her, but didn’t care in the slightest as his hands trailed down her waist, her hips, her thighs, sneaking up under the hem of her skirt. When his fingers reached her center, brushing lightly over her damp panties, Anna sighed. 

Kristoff only smirked as he got down on his knees. He kissed his way up her thighs, now bruising intentionally as she swung her legs over his shoulders, using his body as leverage to push her bottom off the countertop when he moved to pull her panties down. “Should we… go to the bedroom?”

He shook his head, nipping the skin right beside her core. “I prefer to eat in the kitchen.” 

Then he dove in, feasting on her as if he had been starving. 

Anna saw stars for the first time in her life.

—

They sat together on his couch, Anna curled up against his side as he ran his thumb gently up and down her shoulder. After bringing her to her climax twice with his mouth, all she had wanted to do was relax and rest for a little while. Kristoff had smiled and said of course, wiping at the remnants of her on his chin, before kissing her softly and carrying her to the other room.

An hour was spent watching whatever he happened to flip to, as they both wound down from their busy day. But it was getting late, and Anna really didn’t feel like driving home, and she let herself dare to wonder if…

“It’s getting late,” she hummed, turning her head on his shoulder to look up at his face. “So…”

He smiled, nodding. “You want me to drive you home or back to the rink to get your car?”

Oh.

She tried to ignore the ache in her chest. He had never stayed at her apartment, and she shouldn’t have been surprised at this response, but she still lost her breath for just a moment. Anna had almost thought that he was inviting her to his home for a reason. But she had to remind herself that… it really wasn’t real, then.

She had said she was still all right with this arrangement. And she was…

Mostly.

“Oh. I guess…” she sat up, letting go of him, and moved to stand. “I guess I need my car. So…”

“Yeah,” he stood as well, heading to the doorway to grab his shoes. “No problem.”

“I just need to pee, first.” He nodded and went to the kitchen to start on some dishes as she headed back to the bathroom. She wasn’t going to cry about this. She definitely wasn’t. 

And when she braced her hands on the bathroom sink and stared at herself in the mirror, willing the tiny shine of tears in her eyes to go away, she almost made it happen.

She knew what she signed up for, and she knew that she could handle it. 

But one moment of weakness was okay, right?

[myqueenjudeduarte]

cardan gets drunk and jude takes care of him? lmao that's kind of canon

This is the absolute sappiest shit I have EVER written I can’t even believe I did this... honestly shameful but here it is.

Also - spoilers included for the prologue of TQON.

There had been many mornings in the six months since Jude and Cardan had begun sharing chambers, some crisp enough that they huddled together under the blankets, others warm enough that Cardan, and sometimes even Jude, forwent nightclothes. Of those mornings, there had been many on which Jude was awoken softly, with Cardan’s hands in her hair and lips on her skin, or more roughly, with insistent touches and urgent sounds. There were still others on which Cardan was the one to be awoken, Jude’s soft words, those she reserved only for him and only for these moments, in his ears. 

This was not one of those mornings.

This was one of the thankfully rarer mornings on which Jude woke up to Cardan staring listlessly at the ceiling. A morning on which she could see the weight of all that had happened in his eyes, and of all that he surely thought was yet to come.

After all, a life of abandonment, suffering, sorrow and cruelty is not easily forgotten, nor does one who has gone through it believe it to be over, or over so early in life.

On these mornings, Jude tried a variety of tactics to bring him back to the Cardan she so often saw, and they rarely helped. When Cardan’s mood shifted like this, when it was all he could do to stay grounded, hold on to the life he had, there was little anyone could do to pull him from it.

This morning, Jude curled herself closer to him, rested her head on his chest and listened to his breathing.

He allowed this comfort for only moments before he rose from the bed, gently pushing Jude away, and began to dress.

“Cardan--” Jude began, but he left hurriedly before she could speak further, nothing but a glance over his shoulder betraying the guilt he felt over his own refusal to accept her comfort. To accept her presence at all.

She stayed in their chambers for the rest of the day, busying herself with correspondence and cleaning, tasks she didn’t need to attend to at all or didn’t need to attend to yet. Still, they provided something to do, and a way to give Cardan space until he sought her out, until he was ready to admit to needing her.

As it happened, he didn’t seek her out -- a messenger was sent in his stead.

“My Queen,” he began, “the High King requires your... assistance.”

From the distaste with which he spoke, she thought she knew exactly what sort of drunken state she would find her husband in, yet was surprised by how far it had gone.

Cardan was stumbling onto the dais when she reached the throne room, in the worst shape in which she had seen him since the night he was poisoned, over a year ago now.

He opened his mouth as if to announce something, but closed it when he saw her. A smile came to his face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“My Queen,” he said, walking unsteadily towards her before falling to his knees. “How I have missed you.”

This, at least, she could tell was genuine, and she gave him a small smile before bending down to his level.

“Cardan, we need to go back to your chambers, okay?”

He leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“I don’t want to go back,” he said, near whining. “I don’t want to be alone again.”

Jude felt instantly guilty. “I’m sorry I left you alone today. I thought it was what you wanted.”

“It was,” he said, confusion written plainly on his face. “I mean, it wasn’t. I couldn’t let myself be with you. I needed to be alone. I always need to be alone.”

Jude frowned, not understanding Cardan’s drunken ramblings, when usually she was the only one who did.

“Let’s get you back to your rooms, and we will talk further.”

She led him to his chambers, but the process was slow going, because not only did Cardan stumble as he walked, he had urgent questions for Jude every few steps.

“Do you believe me, Jude?”

“Believe what?”

“Me.”

“Of course I believe you, Cardan, though I have no idea what I need to believe. You cannot tell a lie.”

Cardan frowned.

“It didn’t matter,” he said darkly. “That didn’t matter.”

Jude knew what this, at least, referred to. Cardan had confided in her some time earlier about the murder he had been framed to have committed, and she reached over to tangle her fingers in the back of his hair, stroking downwards reassuringly.

“It matters now,” she whispered. “It matters to me.”

Finally, he fell silent until they reached his chambers. When they arrived, Jude helped him strip out of his clothing, stiff with spilled wine, and slide into bed.

“Don’t leave,” he said, voice both anxious and resigned. “Jude, please, don’t leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, making her voice as soothing as possible, though it was not her strong suit to be soft or comforting. 

“Don’t leave,” he murmured again. “I know you will, but please.”

“I’m not leaving, dearest.” This name she reserved for only the most dire of occasions, the moments like this one when she could see a lifetime of pain in his eyes, when she could feel it. It made her hurt. “I’m never leaving.”

This was a promise she knew well she could not keep, for she was mortal and he was not and one day, she would leave forever. Still, she made it, because he needed to know that it was her intention.

“You left before,” he said, accusingly.

“You exiled me,” she reminded him, willing her patience not to grow thin.

“Oh, yes,” he admitted, remembering himself. “I did.”

Jude closed her eyes against the pain in his.

“You didn’t deserve it,” she said softly, moving to join him on the bed. “Being left. You didn’t deserve it.”

“I loved them,” he said, “I loved them all. I used to have so much love, Jude. Where did the love go?”

“You still have it, Cardan. I see it in you. The whole of Elfhame benefits from the love you hold.”

Cardan’s eyes grew serious, and he took her hand in his. “I love you, Jude. I love you wholly and entirely, more than I express. I need to express it, my darling. I love you.”

Jude felt chills run up her arms, her spine. “And I love you. You need to go to sleep now, Cardan, and know that I will be here when you awaken. Can you know that? Can you believe that from me, for me?”

Cardan nodded. “I will do always as you desire, believe what you ask of me. You have my trust as you have my heart.”

Jude smiled and placed a hand on his own heart. “And you have mine.”

[poetic-sinema]

Silk Tea: In The Morning

A/N: Wrote a quick outline for this in my telegram drafts upon waking up this morning, only to have it transferred to a working document almost immediately after. Written in 1.5 hours because I had to head out so expect errors lmao. 

Silk Tea is a series of oneshots written across the central theme of a couple falling in love through the course of an arranged marriage.

This series can be read separately, or in chronology (which can be found in the masterlist). A.D. Timeline.

Warnings: Low key Smut, Breeding kink, No actual penetration, Softness

Words:  1270

He’d been the first to rise in the chill of the new morning, blaming the rays that stream through their floor length drapes for disrupting his already light slumber. He comes to in a lazy daze, and as his eyes greets consciousness, it is quick to register the weight that curls into his side. 

She sleeps with her back flush against him, and he tries to gently remove his arm that had lost feeling perhaps in the wee hours of the morning. He pauses his movement as she stirs, stomach clenching in guilt, but fortunately she settles back into comfort. He finds himself pulling into a soft grin. Unlike him, she’d always gave in to better sleep. 

He rises to his side, turning to her, and supports his weight on his arms as he drags the tips of index across her features. He intends to leave traces of a kiss along her jawline up to her temple, a habit he usually partakes in before leaving for work in the morning. But when she comes to, hazy eyes still bleary from sleep looking up at him, he is suddenly unable to find the strength to swing his feet to the ground to start his day. 

“Are you still going into work?” She asks, voice coated in a velvet groan as she sinks into a second slumber.

It was a Sunday, and she had begged him when he’d crawled into bed at 2am the previous night to abandon his responsibilities. Just for one day, she cooed, just for one day with me, I’ve missed you. He doesn’t know what gave him the boldness to deny her of her request.

“Mm,” he manages out a hum as his fingers travel from her jaw, down her neck, and onto the steady rising of her chest. It cups the soft breast that lie beneath the veil of a dark cotton shirt - his - and glides onto the softness of her tummy. 

Now he has never thought about children, not his, at least. After being named partner at the firm, he’d barely been able to come home before the clock struck 12, he wouldn’t do that to her. Leave her to tend to the needs of their child while he isn’t able to offer her aid. But he notices how she is loving, infinitely so, when she is around her nieces. The way she steals little glances at babies when they’re out together, at the park, or the grocers, or in the lift with the new parents that had just moved in. She’ll be a brilliant mother, the warmth of her touch on him is enough to convince him so.

As his hand wedges between the fabric of his shirt and her soft skin, his mind fleets to how wonderful it would feel to have her full of him, his seed growing inside her. She allows his fingers to  inch her shirt upwards, exposing her panties first, and then the flesh of her stomach to the chill of the room. He thumbs her soft breasts and allows himself the luxury of a distant memory where she would feed their newborn, latching as he latches onto these nipples, parched. He rolls his tongue over the bud that now stands erect, glistening with him. He runs his nose over it, touch gliding to the other breast, and he feels her arching into his touch. 

He moves to the valley of her breasts to trail soft, open mouthed kisses downwards, index tracing her navel, and then over the material of her underwear. 

“Aren’t you going to be late?” She asks, breathless, and flustered, but still mildly aware of the time. He has never been a fan of tardiness, even though it was a weekend, and literally nobody else would be in the office. 

“I thought you wanted me here,” He glances up from where he was, tilting his head against her stomach with his dark eyes on her, “With you.”

She cards her fingers through his hair, the gruffness of his voice upon uttering his first words combined with the way he looks up at her is enough for her to relent. She allows a soft chuckle to escape past her lips which acts as approval for him to continue splaying his love on every inch of her skin. 

“My love,” He speaks again, this time he is already situated between her legs, teeth having found the arches of her hips, with a palm massaging the top of her thighs, “Do you want children?”

Her attention, previously engulfed in pleasure, is now taken by the urgency of the question he utters. There had been plenty of occasions where he’d rendered her speechless, but this had to be the one that trumps them all. 

Her silence makes his head shoot up, abandoning the skin he once held between his teeth. He knows he is looking at her expectantly, he is unable to keep himself from that, but he reassures her in her concern, “It’s just a question,” He soothes, and she is thankful that he knows just when exactly to say the right words, “You don’t have to answer me now if you don’t want to.” The smile that decorates his lips are sincere, and they bring warmth to the belly beneath him. 

“Yours?” She asks, as if finding the right words had been the most difficult of tasks.

He rests his chin atop her soft skin, gaze lazy as his head tilts to the side, “No, Aquaman’s.”

She attempts to swat the arm that rests on her tummy, but he is quicker than her so her own flesh becomes victim. 

“Odin will smite you.” She cusses at him. 

“I fear more your wrath than any other Gods, my dove.” This time his grin is cheeky, but as he presses his lips onto the burning skin that she had once hit, it becomes genuine again. 

“I’ve thought about it,” She shrugs, fingers still distracted by the thickness of his mane - he’d allowed it to grow a little past his nape, and even though it is slick in the mornings that he leaves for work, there is always a strand or two that will fall into his line of sight upon reaching home.

“You’ve thought about it?” He echoes in question.

“Mmhmm,” She hums, “I thought about it when we first got married,” She admits, and her eyes flicker to him to measure his expression - his attention, like he is, is all hers, “I was prepared to bear your children, if you had even as much as mentioned it.”

“But we weren’t-“ 

“We weren’t a lot of things, my love,” She shakes her head, “But I know the structure I married into, the expectations, the questions that would have rolled in if I didn’t grant you at least a firstborn.”

And if previously it was her that was rendered speechless, it is now his turn. He bites against the bottom of his lips, completely unprepared for the admission. So he crawls up to her, once again pressing long and lustful kisses along the body that he so praises until he meets her lips again. 

“I love you,” And his voice almost breaks at how full his heart felt, “I love you with all of my being,” He hopes his words are able to echo his gratefulness, “Do you think-“ He stops himself, suddenly debating if it was the right time to voice his request.

“What is it?” She whispers, cupping his cheeks in the gentleness of her touch. 

“Are you still willing to bear my children?”

She smiles into the kiss that she initiates, arching up to meet his lips against hers, “More so now than I have ever been.”

[ramimami-blog]

...and it’s all on camera. (Eternally Yours pt. 1)

This is my very first piece of writing involving my original character Miyuki. She is an Until Dawn/Diary of a Wimpy Kid OC (because clearly they take place in the same universe, i’m dead serious). I intend to release an xfem!reader version of this fic, but for tonight this what I’m releasing.  

A/n: condoms break, use plan b lmao.  Warnings: smut, breaking condoms, noise. Seriously, always have back up birth control and if your condom breaks get tested a month after, please. Also slight coercion at the beginning, which can make some people uncomfy. Minor race play.

Word Count: 3,687k (I WENT OVERBOARD I KNOW)

If anyone wants to know more about this OC before/after reading, here is my RP post for her.

“This is not what I agreed to, Washington!”  she scolded her boyfriend, gently pushing the camera out of her pale face as he smirked down at her, that genuine smirk that always drove the shorter female wild. 

“Yes you did, you said it, you said I could record it!” “No! I was kidding!”  “That’s not how it would look in a court transcript!”

Miyuki groaned loudly, her hands moving to cover her breasts in embarrassment.  This was humiliating for her, but at the same time she wondered if she could ever say no to him. To those eyes, to those lips, to that nose.

She thought about it for another moment, pouting hard while crossing her arms over her breasts. Josh still had the camera focused on her face as it pouted, admiring her through the viewfinder for a moment. 

“Hot Asian babe thoroughly dicked down by white boyfriend,” Josh said with a smile. Miyuki tilted her head.  “What?!”  “Thinkin’ about titles for it...”

The tiny woman’s eyes widened hard, hands reaching for the camera as she stepped forward swiftly, closing the gap between the two of them as Josh cackled almost wildly. 

“You are NOT uploading this ANYWHERE, Washington!”  “It’s gotta be illegal for me to keep such primo porn to myself, sweetie!” “... No!” 

Josh sighed in defeat for a moment, lowering the camera as he took the woman’s chin in his hand gently. He towered over her, she was so tiny, barely standing over five feet tall. So thin, so faelike, the love of his life.  

His thumb raked across her bottom lip, his fingers tilting her head up gently. Of course some part of him wanted to respect that she was saying no, but how could he? Miyuki was a goddess of lust and beauty in his eyes, she was a being near worthy of worship and having her at her most primal, most lustful on camera was just too gorgeous a thought to let go of. 

He smiled at her, leaning in a little closer and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “Please?”

Please... The word echoed in her head for a moment as she stood there, looking up into his eyes and silently weighing the pros and cons of being filmed at her most vulnerable. She loved Josh with all of her heart, and truthfully had wanted to explore their sex life further. Miyuki just didn’t know how to approach it without sounding like what they had wasn’t enough for her.

“Fine.” 

Josh pressed another kiss to her cheek, harder this time as he turned the floor lamp on, lightly illuminating the room as he began to look through the view finder again. 

“And what’s this pretty little porn star’s name?” Josh asked with a smirk, watching as Miyuki removed her arms from her breasts with a smile. 

“Miyuki...” “God what a hot ass name... gonna... do something special?” Josh was clearly referring to something Miyuki did with a condom, one of his favorite parts of being intimate with her.

Josh reached into his back pocket, withdrawing a thin condom and handing it to her. Once she took a hold of it, Miyuki instantly ripped it open with her pearly white teeth. 

As the young Asian sank down to her knees, Josh began to remove his pants, unzipping them and watching his girlfriend through the view finder with lustful eyes. His erection was already starting to grow, he was so eager to be inside of her, and so eager to hear her whimper. 

The young woman hooked her fingers in the waist band of his black boxers, pulling them down and allowing his semi-hard cock to flop out in front of her. Her smile widened a bit, her eyes locked on the camera as she began peppering his cock with kisses, her lipstick leaving a trail of marks up and down the pale flesh.

To Miyuki, Josh’s cock was always worthy of worship. Often times if she had it her way, she would just suck on his cock like a lollipop until he blew up in her mouth, putting her own pleasure behind of her just to watch him squirm. 

But not tonight. She had a delicious show to put on. 

Joshua groaned lowly as his cock hardened quickly from the mixture of the kisses, and the fact he was getting it all on camera. He loved knowing he would be able to jerk himself off to this video when she couldn’t be reacted for a trip to the bone zone, and part of him liked thinking that if he uploaded it somewhere, other men would lust after a woman that only he could plow.

His cock was near full erection status when Miyuki shoved him into her mouth, stopping half way down and swirling her tongue around the sensitive flesh. Josh tossed his head back, letting out a very pleased groan. The young, tiny woman kept her eyes on the camera as she bounced her head back and forth along the length of his shaft. 

Josh, always being a gentleman, reached down, bundling her hair up and holding it on the back of her head, gently pushing her head down over more of his cock, groaning lowly as his gorgeous girlfriend slurped on his cock.

After a few moments, Josh released her hair, giving a soft slap to her cheek and winking. 

Miyuki unlatched her mouth from his cock slowly, carefully, a small line of spit attaching her lips to his manhood for a moment before she took the condom, and placed it into her mouth. 

She looked up into the camera for a moment, showing it off in her mouth before taking a firm hold of Josh’s cock, and pushing her mouth back down over it. It was a hard technique to master, but she had mastered it for him, she loved the way it drove him crazy, loved the way he looked at her while she did it. 

Her fingers wrapped around the edge of the condom, holding it steady as she slowly pulled her mouth backwards, dragging it almost cutely over his shaft and wiggling her rear end. When Josh’s member came out of her lips it was with a cute pop and a giggle, she was just asking to be fucked stupid when she acted like that, and Josh knew it. 

Josh kept an eye on her through the viewfinder as she admired her work. Miyuki had a filthy little mouth and it was something he loved the most about her. The way she gladly took his cock into her mouth was one of the most erotic things he had ever witnessed, she loved the taste of it as much as he loved tasting himself upon her tongue. 

Miyuki purred as she pushed herself back up onto her feet, Josh pulled her into a kiss. The couple began flicking their tongues together as the male began to push the smaller female towards his bed. Once the back of her legs hit the fabric of his blanket, he stopped the kiss and pushed her backwards, hard. Miyuki giggled as she fell back onto the bed, leaning up on her elbows and eyeing him anxiously. 

The young girl was apprehensive at first, but now she needed to feel him inside of her, wanted to cry and squeal and cum all over his cock until the sun came up. The need in her eyes was undeniable, Josh could see it but he had to make sure she was ready first. 

Crawling onto the bed, Josh pushed her legs wide open and sat the camera down. Miyuki grabbed it, blowing a kiss to the lens before turning it so it had a view of Josh’s head between her legs. 

Her cunt was soft, pink, and waxed. A thin gloss of her own juices was layered over the sensitive flesh that Josh quickly licked up, his thick tongue raking up her slit from her tight hole to the edge of her clit, giving a smirk to the camera once he swallowed. 

“You look sexy down there...” Miyuki mused as his tongue quickly went to work. Josh’s arms wrapped around her thighs. A giggle came from her mouth, one hand letting go of the camera to reach down and rake through those chocolate locks. Her toes twitched softly from the friction his tongue was giving her clit, her eyes fluttered for a moment. Josh was extremely talented with his mouth and it always took her by surprise. 

Keeping the camera angled downward, Miyuki allowed herself to relax against the bed. Her moans were soft, mingling with the licks and slopping noses from between her legs. The room was quickly filling up with the scent and sound of a couple being intimate, the camera in her manicured hands capturing every moment.

Josh groaned softly, pulling his mouth away from her cunt, prompting a different, more irritated groan from the small Asian girl. “What the fuck...”  but before she could complain anymore, she felt that all too familiar sensation of Josh’s middle and ring fingers jamming into her hole.

Her jaw dropped, the camera focusing on his grin before she moved it back on his fingers as they twisted upward, craning inside of her as he started to move them back and forth, slipping in and out of her soaked little snatch eagerly, as if fucking her with his hand was the only thing that mattered at the moment. 

“Mine...” Joshua growled out, and for a second she was unsure if he was talking about the camera or her body... or both? He gently took the camera from her hands, and turned it onto her, slowly showing a view of his fingers ramming in and out of her wetness, before bringing it back up to her cute little moaning face.

“Tell everyone who’s cunt this is?”

Those brown eyes rolled softly, her moans stopping for a moment. “Yours, who else would it belong to?”  “Sweet...” 

Josh’s hand sped up immediately, clapping against the flesh around her hole. Those moans got louder, her legs began to twitch lightly against his body between them, toes curling into the blankets beneath her. 

“G... gonna...” her elbows dug into the bed as she sat up slightly, her eyes desperate for a glimpse of what Josh’s fingers looked like, seeing them gleaming with her juices before disappearing back inside of her. The sight sent her right back down, her hands moving to yank at her ebony locks in desperation.

Her first orgasm was drawing closer, and Josh knew it... and his smirk deepened. 

“Not yet, not yet, nope,” he panted out, thrusting his fingers in deep for a moment before pulling them out with a grunt. Miyuki felt so empty without him inside of her, she craved the friction, craved a release that only that idiot could give her.

Licking his fingers, he stood up for a moment, letting her juices linger on his tongue for a moment as he dragged the tripod closer to the bed, not swallowing her delicious arousal fluids until the camera clicked in place. The young man loved the clean, yet dirtily feminine taste of her cunt in his mouth. The way she tasted was almost addictive to him. As he watched her body laying there on his bed through the viewfinder, a moment of almost clarity came to his mind.

Josh was in love with that dirty girl. Miyuki was his clarity, she was a good part of his stability and she was unbelievably gorgeous. Something about her radiated pure perfection to him, even as he stood there with a rock-hard cock ready to plow the young woman into the next century, there was still love outweighing the lust. 

But the lust. The lust was there as well, and he was ready to completely ravage her tiny frame as his grin returned.

The young man lunged himself back onto the bed, peppering Miyuki’s face with kisses as she straightened one of her legs out, allowing him to roll right back between her legs while his kisses attacked her neck.

Her giggles echoed in Josh’s ears beautifully, her hands moving to rest upon his shoulders as she began to speak. 

“I want you to fuck me, really, really, really hard.” “You want me to fuck that pussy hard, pornstar?” “Mmph, yes, please?” “You don’t hafta beg... gonna give it to you.”

A purr came from her pink lips, curling into a smile as Josh held himself up over her, grabbing his condom-covered cock and slowly raking it up and down her lips for a moment before he started to slowly slip it in... right before grunting, letting go of his cock and grabbing her wrist, pinning it to the bed and pushing his cock deeper inside of the velvet confines. His thighs clapped against her skin loudly. The couple groaned in unison, Miyuki’s head arching back, his head hanging down to watch his cock disappear inside of her. 

“Fuck... so fucking tight...” Josh began to thrust hard against her body, each movement making her perky breasts bounce on her chest vigorously. His eyes landed on her face as it contorted in pleasure, her nails starting to scratch at his shoulder, he lamented leaving one of her hands free. 

The pain mixed with the pleasure, a boundary the two of them crossed time and time again. Josh secretly liked it when those manicured nails dug into his flesh, marked him up and let their friends know who his dumbass belonged to.

Those tough, calloused hands roamed over Miyuki’s body, releasing her wrist to let his hands absorb every inch of her body. A goddess, she was a goddess to him as he pushed his cock in and out of her. His eyes scanned over her bouncing breasts before he grabbed them rolling her nipples between his fingers eagerly as he breathlessly panted above her.

Miyuki’s cunt felt like it was on fire, Josh had brought her close to her brink and pulled away earlier which left her nothing more than a filthy slut in need of a big cock to cum on. The tight, almost vice-like walls held onto his cock for dear life, prompting low, guttural groans from Josh’s throat with each powerful, bed-shaking thrust. 

“Baby I’m close...” Miyuki purred out, those hands moving to Josh’s biceps where the nails began to dig and scratch harder. “Please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!”

And Josh had no intention of stopping. His own peak wasn’t as close as hers, but he knew her, knew her body, and knew he was gonna make her quake a few times before he was done with her. That was the kind of sex life they had, Miyuki was a fountain of cumming ecstasy and Josh had enough stamina to handle it. A match made in heaven

The bed began to rock against the wall, Josh’s hands moving to stroke her hair as his arms lay on the bed, Miyuki’s hands promptly went for his back as his head buried in her neck, as she clawed at the sun-kissed flesh he started biting at her neck and moaning into it, knowing her to set her off. 

Flesh-on-flesh hit the camera’s mic furiously as her moans got louder, higher, until they stopped, replaced with gasps and whimpers. 

Josh’s thrusts kept their relentless pace as Miyuki’s pussy began to convulse, muscles in her uterus and abdomen having tensed up and finally releasing, the walls of her vice throbbing against his cock, his groans growing louder. The flesh sounds became much more wet, almost like someone slapping a pond with their palm. 

“Fuck... fucking cum... little pornstar...” Josh mused at her, his head still in the crook of her neck, tongue flicking over the hickey his bites and suckles had left her with. Tomorrow everyone would know he rocked her pussy properly, from the marks and the limp he was determine to put in her step. 

Once the harsh throbbing of her nether-region slowed down, Josh sat up on his knees, his hands gently dragging down her body as his thrusts stopped, his cock pulling out. 

“Bend it over,” he demanded with a grunt, grabbing her ankles and tossing them to the side. Miyuki giggled hard, obeying his command and rolling onto her stomach. Carefully pushing herself up and onto her already wobbly knees. Josh grabbed onto her hips, pulling her into place as she grabbed one of his pillows, and began to hold onto it underneath of her lithe form. 

As he looked down at his rubber-coated cock inches away from her slippery entrance, a shiver ran down his body, instinctively his right hand raised, and swatted at her perky rear end. 

“Who’s ass is this?” “It’s yours, baby...” “Who’s? Didn’t hear that,” he said with another slap. “Ah! Baby that’s your ass! That’s your pussy!” “All mine?” “All yours!”

With a sharp grunt Josh pushed himself back into her cavern, Miyuki moaning lowly against the bed, keeping her ass perked up for him, making sure he had a great angle to fuck her in.

Soon, his thrusts began to pick up once more, back at the same pace, filling the room with the sounds of his skin banging against hers, and her sweet, desperate moan. 

Josh tossed his head back, groaning loudly. It felt so much better all of a sudden, in an instant her walls felt warmer, felt tighter. Perhaps a normal boy would have known what it meant, but Josh damn sure didn’t and kept going. His nails dug into her hips each time he slung her backwards, impaling her on his cock as he thrusted forward into her. A passionate rhythm that was bringing him closer and closer to his own orgasm faster than usual.

And apparently, Miyuki felt the same. Her hands moved, one planting into the bed, the either grasping onto his hand as it dug into her hip, her nails clawing at it in desperation. The camera caught her face as it was contorting in delight, her mouth agape and her moans high. 

“Fuck... fuck... fuck...” Josh cried out, keeping his head tossed back and his eyes lidded tightly. Her tiny little cunt was milking the life out of him, it was driving him insane in the best of ways. His jaw hung open, gasping and grunting right along with his girlfriend as he drilled his cock in and out of her. 

“Cum for me, Josh! I want you to fucking cum...” she pleaded, still digging her manicure into his hand for dear life. His cock pistoned in and out of her hole, the angle was purely divine, every single sweet spot was being hit, his balls slapping hard, furiously against her clit, a punishment her button was more than willing to take.

It wasn’t until Miyuki hit her second peak, the muscles contracting, releasing and sending her walls vibrating against his cock until he finally found his. As the young woman squealed and held herself up, Josh gave a few more powerful thrusts, shaking the young woman to her core as his cock began to twitch and throb. 

Usually, Josh’s thick cum would fill up the condom, it would be discarded and everything would be okay... but at some point, the condom ripped, leaving the head of his cock and a few more inches exposed, and sending his cum shooting right against her cervix, painting her walls white for the very first time.

The warmth felt abnormal to Miyuki as she removed her hand from his, it felt hot and wet inside of her, a feeling she wasn’t used to. Still panting and trying to calm down from the amazing sex she had with Josh, she wanted to ask but her mouth was at a loss for words. Instead, she laid her body down on the pillow nd tried to catch her breath.

“Oh... fuck...” Josh slowly began to pull out of her when he realized what had happened. His unprotected seed began to leak out, and once he finally withdrew his shrinking member, he finally saw the mangled remains of the condom. 

“What’s wrong?” Immediately the worst ran through her mind. Warmth, perhaps she had started her cycle while he was in her? Miyuki had always been quite irregular. She had started once while sleeping in his bed, even, and had struggled to clean it up before he woke up, and that was immediately where her mind had went. 

But that wasn’t it, it was just a bit worse. Josh swallowed, smirking just a bit, taking it more lightly than he should have. “Broke the condom. You’re too tight, pornstar.” 

Miyuki froze for a moment. The main reason they used condoms had been pregnancy prevention, she was confident neither of them had an STD after being together for a year and a half after all. It made her a bit scared, hearing they had busted the rubber and Josh’s hard load had went right inside of her. 

However, the more she thought about it, the less she cared. 

“It’s fine.” “It’s fine?” “We should stop using them, anyway... I think we deserve to feel each other with nothing in between.”

Josh was a bit floored by her reaction, staring at her body bend over the pillow as he pulled the torn rubber bits off of his shaft. His heart began to beat fast, there was so much love in her words... he barely knew how to react to such a sweet gesture from someone he loved more than anything. Someone that was the sun to his moon, the stars in his sky. His eyes gazed over her, from her ebony locks to her perky behind... yeah. He was in love. 

Hopping off the bed, Josh tossed the busted condom into the trash can by his desk, walking to the tripod and giving a smirk and a wave before turning the camera off. Him being passionate and romantic with the love of his life was not jerk-off material

At least... he hoped it wasn’t.

[t0m0kii]

FANFIC: Monkee Meow [Monkees]

my first monkees fic that i’ve been working for ages on that i actually just finished yesterday! i love writing The Boys so i’ll probably write another one day when i’m struck with an idea but! until then! go ahead and read this one if you like!

((and yes, judging by the title you can probably guess that it involves a cat, lmao))

“You what?!”

“Oh, relax, Micky, taking care of cats isn't difficult! Besides, it's just for today, just a little extra money until our gig tonight, alright?” Mike talked quickly as he bustled around the pad, tidying up for the arrival of their small feline guest.

“I mean, 20 dollars all for just takin' care of a cat for two hours sounds good to me.” Davy said. “Plus, I quite like cats.” He smiled.

“Do you think the cat's gonna like me?” Peter asked nervously. “I'd hate to make it uncomfortable.”

“It's a cat, Peter! Not only that, but you're the least intimidating person I know, maybe even on Earth.” Mike replied from across the room, then going right back to feather dusting.

Peter seemed relieved as he grinned. “Thank goodness for that.”

“Good grief.” Micky was still a bit dazed, since Mike hadn't bothered to inform him of anything. Nevertheless, he regained his composure. It wouldn't be that bad. Cats are nice! And 20 dollars was a lot of money for guys like them...

“Oh, what the heck, we can handle it.” He finally concluded. “What's a cat to a Monkee?”

The conversation was halted by a sudden knock at the door.

“That must be them,” Mike said, rushing over to get the door. Before opening it, he caught one last glance at the other boys and gave them one final instruction. “Act natural, alright?”

“Don't worry, Mike, I can act. I was in a play once in my school days, y'know.” Peter reassured, smiling.

Davy spoke up. “You told me about that! I bet you played the part of that oak tree very well.”

Once the laugh track finished playing, Mike nervously opened up the door to meet who was on the other side.

A somewhat short  (but still taller than Davy) man in a fedora and a mobster-esque trench coat was standing there, holding a much smaller, less intimidating-looking cat in one hand, and a plastic bag with unknown contents in the other. He looked as if he'd definitely woken up on the wrong side of the bed, meanwhile the kitty, as black as the night, with bright yellow eyes that could probably scan a whole area in seconds, looked quite content and happy. “You guys the cat-sitters?” The man finally spoke up, his voice coated in a stereotypical Brooklyn accent.

At first, the guys didn't say anything. However, they'd met this guy's type before, and knew well enough to play it safe. Mike was the only one to finally say something. “Uh...Yeah, come on in.”

“Why did he say that?!” Micky whispered to the other two.

“He's lost it this time, I tell ya.” Davy whispered back.

“Why are we whispering?” Peter entered the conversation.

They both turned to look at him. “You know why!”

When they looked back toward the man, he had stepped into the house. His eyes narrowed as they seemed to scan the area around him. “You boys a band or somethin'?”

They all nodded. “We're Monkees, sir.” Mike answered meekly, as if he too was a bit unnerved.

“Monkees...” The man paused, as if he'd heard this name before, but just couldn't put his finger on when. “Right.” He dismissed the thought.

The cat, most likely already bored of sitting around, jumped out of the man's arms, and after making a graceful landing onto the floor, made its way over to a chair near the coffee table.

After watching the cat do its thing, the boys turned back to the man, wondering what he was going to say next.

He let out an impatient sigh. “Alright, listen,” he began, immediately grabbing the attention of all of them. “This cat?” He pointed to the cat, who was now sitting on the couch. “Very important cat. Gotta keep a real eye out for 'er. Can't ever turn your back.”

Even though they weren't entirely listening due to all the nervousness replacing their coherent thoughts, the four boys nodded nonetheless.

“Now, you can't let nothin' happen to this cat, see.” This time, the man was looking directly at Mike, right in his face, since he was nearest to him. “If anythin' happened to this cat, and we found out about it, me 'n the boys wouldn't be too happy, see.” He got closer until he was right in Mike's face. “And by the time we'd get done with yeh, you wouldn't either. Capiche?”

“Believe me, you're loud and clear.” Mike replied.

The man, now that he had finished his semi-threatening instructions, took a step back. He set the plastic bag down onto the ground by the door. “There's her cat food, in case she gets hungry. I'll be back in two hours, and remember...” Right as he opened the door and was about to exit, he looked back at them. “You can't turn your back.”

And with that being said, he left.

Mike turned around to face the other guys. “Gee, what a nice fella.” He said sarcastically.

“Yeh can't turn yer back,” Micky mimicked in his best impression of the man, then shaking his head. “Pssh, he's full of it.”

“Careful, Mick, he might unleash the boys on ya.” Davy joked, grinning.

“I could take 'em!” Micky put his fists up as if he were pretending to prepare for a fight. “Lemme at 'em, lemme at 'em!”

Peter looked tense. “I dunno, he seemed pretty serious.”

“We're not gonna take chances in findin' out,” Mike said. “If that's what he's like on a normal day, I don't wanna know what he's like when he's angry. For now, let's just focus on the situation at hand.”

All four of them looked toward the couch, where the cat was curled up, sound asleep.

Off to a good start, I'd suppose.

The whole pad was taking it easy.

Micky was over on the platform stage, sitting by his drum set, polishing the cymbals so that they would shimmer and shine their brightest at the gig that night. Mike was sitting on a middle step in the spiral staircase putting the finishing touches on the set list. Davy was down at the beach, and, whatever he was doing, it was probably being played over some sappy, slow song. Meanwhile, Peter was at the table by the staircase reading a book. An upside-down book, but a book nonetheless.

You may have already noticed how not one of them were paying attention to the cat. Why would they be? If you own cats yourself, you would know that cats usually aren't very active animals. Unlike dogs, they like to lie around and relax, occasionally moving around or jumping on something. As long as it wasn't making any noise, the boys figured it wasn't getting into too much trouble.

But then why was the man so insistent on them keeping constant watch over it?

Before this question could be given an answer, the back door suddenly opened up, revealing the figure of Davy. “Hey, fellas, guess what I just saw!”

“Let me guess,” Micky began. “You've just seen a face, you can't forget the time or place where you just met? La da da da-da da?”

“You're hilarious,” replied the adorable Brit sarcastically. “But really! That club we're playin' tonight, they've already put our names on their sign outside! 'The Monkees: On at 5 PM'!”

“Well, whaddya know!” Peter piped up. “...But how'd the sign know who we are?”

By this point, Davy was still holding the door open, and, for a brief moment, he felt something brush against his leg. However, since there was a bit of a wind blowing, he paid it no mind.

“Hey, Mike?” Micky turned to the wool-hatted man on the steps. “How's that cat doing?”

Mike didn't even look up from the set list. “She's over there, look for yourself. Just fed her a minute ago, so that should be fine.”

The curly-haired drummer shook his head, getting up from his drum set and walking over to the chair. He at least wanted to get a better look at her. He'd already seen her earlier when she'd just arrived, but he still wanted to get closer, just because he was like that.

He looked over from the back of the chair, expecting to see the cat still sound asleep.

Instead, the chair was empty.

“Oh,” Micky said nonchalantly. “She's gone.”

“She's gone.” Mike repeated absentmindedly. Suddenly, his eyes widened as he finally looked up from the set list. “What?!”

“She's gone!” All four of them exclaimed at once.

“Where could she have run off to?” Davy pondered.

The three boys looked over in the shorter boy's direction. There he was, standing in the doorway, still holding the door about halfway open. It seemed they were beginning to put the pieces together in their brains as to how the cat could've escaped.

“...What?” Davy asked, confused as to why everyone was glaring at him. His eyes wandered until they reached downward to where he too could see. “...Oh dear.”

Mike, Micky and Peter all sprung to action from where they were and bolted over to the back door. They bustled hurriedly outside to where they were standing on the deck, overlooking the beach.

Surely enough, in a curvy line starting from the bottom of the steps and leading off to god knows where, was a series of tiny paw prints.

All three of the other boys turned to face Davy, annoyed expressions on each of their faces.

“Heh...He said not to turn your back, y'know.” That was the only thing Davy could say. This sentence seemed to only make them angrier, but this time more so with themselves.

“Well, fellas, it's been a good run. It was nice knowin' ya, but I gotta spl-” Micky was about to walk away until he was grabbed by the back of his collar by Mike.

“Oh no you don't,” he said, dragging Micky back to where he was. He turned to face the others. “Look, we can fix this! We've got two hours; two hours til' the man comes back, and two hours til' our gig. All we gotta do is find the cat and bring 'er back by 5 and pretend nothing happened.”

“But we don't know where it went!” Davy piped up.

“Well,” Peter began, glancing back at the beach. “We could always just follow the trail.”

This caused the other three to glance in the same direction, then back to each other, then back to the sand.

They knew what they had to do.

Surely enough, they bounded down the back deck's stairs and started out hot on the trail of the paw prints.

If this were an episode, it would also be time for a short commercial break.

The paw shapes imprinted in the sand, though small in size, were still very much visible to the four boys and probably everyone else. As they walked along the trail, their eyes shifting up and down from the trail to where they were going, they tried to move quickly. After all, they didn't really have that much time.

They noticed how the path strayed farther and farther from the house. They had traveled all the way to around the middle of the far right when the prints abruptly stopped at the ocean shore.

“Why's it stop here?!” Micky exclaimed.

“I thought cats hated water.” Peter noted confusedly.

“Apparently it hates us even more.” Davy remarked.

Mike was trying to think of a possible answer, trying to be the one in charge. But, to tell you the truth, he was in the same lane with the others in the sense that none of them had a clue. It's difficult to always be the responsible one, you know.

Suddenly, a voice called from the ocean. “Lovely day out here, huh, boys?”

Their heads jerked to the source of the sound. They were met by the sight of a man in his boat, waving and looking quite content. They'd seen the man before, in his quite expensive looking motorboat, but they never knew him by name. They didn't think the man knew their names either, but still went out of his way to be friendly anyway.

“Don't interrupt, we're staring at the sand, basking in our failure and impending doom.” Mike replied, finally speaking up.

“Nice weather for staring at sand!” The man responded back, unaffected by the pessimistic dismissal. For some reason, he'd taken this as an opportunity to start an actual conversation. “Everyone's taking advantage of the sunshine, I'd say! I've seen lots of people come and go today.”

Something seemed to click with Micky. “Seen a cat lately?”

“Cat?” The man paused, looking down a second to think. After a second, he looked back up. “Oh, yeah, I did!”

“Where is it?!” All four of them exclaimed at once.

“Well, you see, right about where you're standin',” the main pointed to the spot, making them look downward. “The cat was right there, and one of my other sailor pals was standin' nearby over there.” He pointed to about where Davy was standing on the left side of the trail. “And I guess he figured no one else wanted it, so he said he was going to take it with him, and then he headed off.”

“We want it!” Peter protested.

“We don't really want it, we need it.” Mike corrected.

“Where's he gone with it?” Davy asked.

“Off into town, I'd suppose. Didn't really think to ask.” The man shrugged. He didn't quite understand the urgency of the situation, but then again, who else would?

The four looked at each other again, finally thinking of a solution.

“So we gotta go find him and get it back!” Micky said.

“Come on then!” Mike commanded, beginning to walk in the direction of where their Monkeemobile was parked. “Each second spent still alive is valuable!”

The other three followed behind, and they were off.

It wasn't long until their short car trip was over and they had reached the town. Quickly, they all hopped out and began to search.

“How are we gonna know who he is when we see 'im?” Davy asked.

“Look for a cat with a sailor. Er, uh, sailor with a cat.” Micky answered.

“Knowing the sailor type, he'll probably be talkin' his head off somewhere.” Mike joked flatly.

“At least we'll be able to hear him!” Peter smiled, still keeping his optimism after all this time.

Through the busy streets of the town they walked, examining every passerby in their lines of vision. Lots of talkative folk, even a few people with cats (one even looked a lot like the one they were searching for), but, alas, no sailors with cats.

Suddenly, something caught Peter's attention, causing him to point somewhere. “Hey, look! He doesn't have a cat, but there's a sailor. I bet maybe he knows the guy, at least.”

The others all looked over to where he was pointing, and, surely enough, he was right.

Mike gave Peter a swift pat on the back. “We don't give you enough credit, ol' buddy.”

“I get by.” Peter responded, smiling.

Without wasting any more time, they all hurried over to the man, which, as they could see, startled him a little bit. He looked a little freaked out as they approached.

“Hey! Do you remember hearing anything about a cat on the beach?” Mike asked him.

The look of shock on the man's face faded into a look of contemplation. After a second, something seemed to click in his mind. “Oh! That cat near the shore earlier today! ...Was that your cat?”

“We're pretty much responsible for it.” Mike replied. “You seen it?”

“Oh...Uh...” The man looked embarrassed. “Well, I saw it, and I didn't think it belonged to anyone, so...I brought it over to my mom's house and, uh, told her she could keep it. Y'know, since ladies like cats.”

All four of the boys' hearts fell. They had to look some more?! You must be joking!

“Do you think we can go get it back?” Davy asked.

The man began to look like he really wanted this conversation to be over. “Well, yeah, I guess I'd have to, since it's your cat and all.”

“It's n-” Micky was about to correct him, but a swift elbow jab from Mike shut him up.

The nervous sailor pulled out a pencil and a piece of paper from his pocket and quickly scribbled something onto it. When he finished, he handed the paper to Mike. “Alright, there's the address, I assume you fellas will know what to do from there. Just don't be too forceful, alright?”

“Trust me, peace is our thing.” Peter reassured.

“Thanks a bunch, pal.” Mike said politely. “Sorry for the trouble.”

After he said this, all four of them turned around and scrambled back to the Monkeemobile, where they hopped back in and sped away in a flash.

The man blinked. “Long-haired weirdos,” he muttered, shaking his head.

After roaming the neighborhood, scanning each house number in search of the one written on the paper, they finally found the location of the residence.

From the car, they observed the house. It was a fairly nice, pleasant looking house, a lot like the kind of house you'd expect someone's mom to live in.

“Alright, no more standin' around, we gotta get moving.” Mike said, which caused everyone to exit the car and steadily approach the house. When they got to the front door, they stopped.

“Who's gonna knock?” Mike asked.

He looked over to Micky, who shook his head. He looked to Davy, who did the same. Finally, he looked to Peter, who just looked back, looking as if he were thinking about something very different.

“Alright, Pete, you do it.” He finalized.

Peter snapped out of his daydream and regained his composure. Facing the ground, he shyly stepped up to the door and gave two swift knocks.

They waited for a moment until they saw the door open up, revealing a content looking older lady on the other side. She smiled a little bit as she said, “Aren't you those boys who play in that band? The...Koalas?”

“Monkees,” corrected Peter.

“Oh! Well, I love you four! Won't you come in, I just made some muffins!”

Peter looked back at Mike for his permission. He shook his head. Peter, although disappointed, looked back to the doorway.

“N-not right now, maybe after the show later, though!” Peter grinned. “Actually, we were looking for a cat. A black cat, with bright yellow eyes, that looks like it'd be a blast to bring with you on Halloween.”

The lady was as calm as could be, as opposed to the anxious nature of the four boys in front of her. “Say, come to think of it, my son dropped by and gave me a cat just like that earlier today! He said he found it on its own...Is it yours?”

“We were supposed to be watching it for someone.” Micky answered.

“If you still have it, we'd, uh, kinda like to have it back.” Mike said.

“Oh...” There was a slight hint of regret in her voice. “Well...My niece came by, and she had been really wanting a cat lately, so I gave it to her instead. She seemed very happy about it. She even said she was going to use it for her entry in the Best Cat This Side of Malibu competition in the park. She sure seemed like she had a lot of confidence in that cat.”

It was all they could do to not groan out loud. They were getting real sick and tired of searching around for this cat, but they couldn't give up, even if they had already been searching for an hour.

The boys caught anxious glances at each other. Retrieving it this time was going to be harder than they thought.

“Do you think she'd mind if we got it back?” Peter asked, looking nervous. “'Cause, we, uh, kinda need it.”

“Maybe if you asked nicely.” The lady suggested. “She's fairly reasonable.”

Davy began to turn around. “We'd better get goin' then.”

“Right,” the others agreed, beginning to follow him back to the car.

“Thanks, we really appreciate it.” Peter thanked the kind lady, grinning.

“You'll come back for muffins later, won't you?” The lady smiled warmly.

Peter smiled right back. “Of course!”

With that being said, the four of them got right back into the car and sped off. As they took off, they all had a feeling that retrieving it this time was going to be harder than they thought.

When they had finally driven back toward the busier part of town, the whole contest set-up proved to be by no means hard to find. There was a surprisingly big crowd of people there, some with cats, some just there to watch, waiting around for the show to start. There were signs leading up to the park and everything, so you couldn't possibly miss it.

“How'd we miss this?!” Micky pointed to a nearby sign. “I swear that wasn't there yesterday!”

“It's best not to ask too many questions, Mick. That's the reader's job.” Mike advised from the driver's seat.

“The who?” Micky asked confusedly.

“No, the reader.” Peter corrected.

In the midst of these fourth-wall-breaking antics, Davy looked down at his watch. “It's already 4:15, we've gotta make this quick.”

Before any more could be said, the car turned into a parking space and slowed to a halt. The four boys got out of the car and began making their way over.

“We don't have much time left to waste, so we gotta move quickly. No distractions this time.” Mike said. The three others nodded in agreement as they began to look around. With their eyes they scanned each person with a cat in their arms. So far, none of the cats looked like the one they were looking for, which is odd, because you'd expect a cat like that to stand out quite a bit.

After a few minutes, they stopped for a moment.

Even though nothing was being said, each of them could tell that they were growing more and more hopeless.

“You know, if nothing works out, we could always leave the city, change our names, become a barbershop quartet somewhere off in Canada.” Micky proposed. “Or, eh, maybe a trio. We'll sacrifice Davy to the mobster guy because he's the one who got us into this in the first place!”

“It was your job to watch it, but no, yer bloody drums were more important, eh?!” Davy retorted.

“You leave my drums outta this!” Micky's face reddened. At this point, the two were right in each others' faces.

Peter's eyes darted instantly to Mike, expecting him to resolve the conflict, since he didn't want to get involved. As stated earlier, peace is sorta his thing. Upon noticing what was expected of him, the tall Texan rolled his eyes, let out a long sigh and stepped forward. “Hey, that's enough, you two! If you don't quit yammerin', I swear I'll-”

“Are you boys looking for something?”

All four of them stopped in their tracks. Almost in unison, their heads turned to see who had spoken to them.

They were met by the sight of a girl who looked to be just a little bit taller than Davy, with short blonde hair and auburn-colored glasses. In her eyes was a look of curiosity and amusement, and in her arms was none other than the cat they had been looking for all along.

A tidal wave of relief washed over the boys as they locked eyes with the feline, who was actually looking quite bored. They had their target right where they wanted it, and all they had to do was get it back. To do this, it was plain to see they had to first stay cool.

“Uh...” Mike spoke first as he and the others boys re-positioned themselves, dusting off their pants and pretending like they weren't just fussing at each other minutes prior. Abruptly, he looked over to Davy. “Would you care to explain?”

Meanwhile, Davy wasn't really paying any attention to what Mike had requested of him. His eyes were locked on the girl, and, for lack of any better description, there seemed to be a bit of a twinkle in them.

The girl's look on her face transitioned from curiosity to slight confusion. Maybe the secret to deflecting the sparkle eyes lies within the power of a pair of glasses...

“Hey, Davy!” A swift bonk on the head from Micky snapped him out of his fantasy.

“Waa! U-uh,” Davy quickly tried to regain his senses. “Actually, we were looking for something. That cat.” He pointed to the now sleepy looking feline she was holding.

She glanced down at the cat as she took a step back, holding it closer. “My cat?”

“Well, uh, the thing is...It's kinda ours.” Micky explained. “I mean, we were supposed to be watching it for someone, but then it escaped out onto the beach.”

“Then a sailor guy picked it up and brought it to your aunt.” Peter added.

“And then your aunt gave it to you.” Mike said.

“And now here you are.” Davy smiled, laughing a bit. “We've kinda been on the hunt for that blasted cat all day.”

Of course, this lump of sudden information was difficult for the girl to process at first, but, had you been suddenly caught up in this situation, you'd most likely be confused about it too. “Good grief! You guys have been through quite the predicament, huh?” She giggled, but her expression saddened when she looked down at the cat. “Well, I'm gonna miss having a cat, but I guess the hour I had her was well spent. I'll give it back.”

She was walking over to Mike to place it in his arms when, suddenly, a figure who seemed to be in a rush approached.

“Miss Debbie!” He tapped her swiftly on the shoulder. “The contest is starting! Bring over your cat!”

Debbie looked to the man, then back to our four boys, who looked just as surprised as she was, but with a more exasperated look on their faces. “Okay, I'm coming!” She said to the man, who had already rushed back to the judges' table. “I'll have to give it back afterwards, I'm sorry. I gotta go, okay? But come on, maybe you can watch.”

“For crying out loud! At this rate, it's curtains for us.” Micky muttered.

“Hey, maybe if she wins, the mobster guy will only bust our heads in just a little less forcefully.” Davy muttered back.

Unfortunately, there was no more time for witty jokes, because the contest was starting.

In front of them was a small sized obstacle course set up on the grass. It curved around a bit a few time, but was generally short. This, the boys assumed, must have been what the cats were competing for. It was an agility contest, and the winner got...Well, they'd figure that out when they got to it.

The four watched as Debbie walked over with the other contestants to set their cats down at the start of the course, the judges keeping a close watch in the process.

There were five cats, counting theirs, sitting in a horizontal line. The other kitties looked as if they'd rather be anywhere else, but, somehow, their black cat looked indifferent.

Suddenly, the same judge that had previously rushed them over spoke up. “And now, the agility competition begins! On your marks...”

The crowd waited in anticipation.

“Get set...”

While everyone else was focusing on the show starting, the four boys were more focused on their watches.

“Go!”

In an instant, all five of the cats bolted from the starting line and were off and away, some slower than others. The boys' eyes were glued on their cat the whole time, and even though there was a lot of noise in the background to distract them, they were trying with all their might to keep watch.

They observed as the cat maneuvered past the other cats with relative ease, passing each obstacle with poise and grace.

“Come on, come on!” They encouraged. They didn't care if she won or lost, just as long as she got back in time, but still, it felt nice and refreshing to be focused on something else besides worry. Not only that, but the energy of the rest of the crowd sort of revived their spirit, which, by this point, they needed.

They watched as the other cats were straying farther and farther behind from theirs in the lead. They couldn't help but be marveled by the fact that these other cats had probably been training for weeks, but theirs didn't even have any idea what was happening and somehow was still winning. They had a feeling the owners of the other contestants caught onto this too. Nevertheless, they all kept it in mind right until the bored looking black cat crossed the finish line in probably the most nonchalant way possible.

“She won!” Debbie cheered.

“She won.” Micky, Mike, Peter, and Davy all exchanged perplexed glances at each other, causing them all to just shrug. Still, they hurried over to where the cat was sitting patiently at the finish line.

As they all looked down at it, they could tell it still didn't care about anything.

“Better pick 'er up quickly, the wind might sweep her away.” Davy said sarcastically.

Mike was the one to do just that. “Very funny. Now, quick, what time is it?”

Micky raised up Davy's hand to where he could look down at his watch. “4:40.”

“We better hurry. Scooby Doo is coming on TV in 15 minutes.” Peter suggested.

As they were all rushing to the Monkeemobile, Mike looked back at him. “If we don't get this cat back to that mobster fella, we'll be the ghosts in their next TV special.”

“I've always wanted to be famous!” Peter grinned excitedly.

The other boys just shook their heads as they hopped in the car and began to drive off into the midday. You see, it wasn't quite the sunset yet, even though that would've been cooler.

Quickly, they pulled into a parking spot and hopped right out, explicitly making sure the cat was still with them. They certainly didn't want a repeat of the whole day.

They decided to go through the back door to arise less suspicion, just in case the guy showed up early.

After they'd bounded up the stairs, they practically ran into the house, shut the door behind them, and finalized it all with a long sigh.

“Phew,” said Davy, looking down at his watch. “And with only 5 minutes to spare.”

The pad was just as quiet and calm as it was when they'd left. It looked like practically nothing had happened, which is good, in their situation.

The cat jumped gracefully out of Mike's arms and sat down on the same chair it'd been sitting on when it arrived.

“Now, I say we get back to where we were, but this time, we k-”

His sentence was interrupted by a firm knock at the door. At once, they all knew who was on the other side, and once again they truly appreciated the fact that they'd returned just five minutes early.

Despite the fact that the figure on the other side of the door had knocked, they then proceeded to just walk right in anyway.

“Hey, did you leave the door unlocked?” Davy asked Mike.

“Either that or he just broke our lock.” Mike murmured in reply.

“Better than our skulls, at least.” Micky joked quietly.

At last, the trench coat man had returned in all his intimidating glory. They watched as his eyes immediately darted over in the direction of the cat, then to the food bag near the door, then to the boys themselves.

“Have you been standing there this whole time?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

They didn't really know how to respond, since this tone was more one of suspicion than of a genuine question.

“Uh...Yeah!” Micky nodded.

The man nodded back. “Good.”

He walked over to the cat and picked it up, causing the cat to meow happily in reaction. Right after that, he dug around in his pocket for a second and pulled out two crumpled ten dollar bills.

“There ya go,” he said. “That's ten dollars me 'n the boys scored from our last drive-by, ha ha! Good times.” He smiled a bit to himself, which seemed like a rare occurrence.

Our four protagonists didn't say anything. Instead, they were focusing intently on the time, watching as it turned from 4:44 to 4:45.

The trench coat man looked as if he were about to go out the door until he paused and looked right back around at them. “Say,” he began. “Would you boys mind if I came back again next w-”

“Yes!” All four of them exclaimed at once.

“Right then.” And with those final two words being said, he finally left. However, the Monkees still had a while before they could relax, as they had their show to go to in a matter of minutes.

Without even saying anything, they all grabbed their instruments (Micky even lifted his entire drum set over his head to bring, since there wasn't much time to take it apart) and bolted out the door.

Luckily, they only had to drive a minute or two into town to get to the place.

After they'd entered the building, got to the stage, and set everything up, the club owner approached to talk for a second.

“Good on you boys to be on time.” He praised. “A minute later and you would've been late!”

They all looked at each other, and they were all thinking the same thing; as soon as they got home, they were going to take it easy for the rest of today and tomorrow.

Right as the clock struck five, the place began to get crowded, and it was their time to shine.

“Alright, from the top!” Mike said. “One, two, three-”

The music began to play. Now, once again, if this were an actual episode, this would be the time for a musical segment, so for this part you can just use your imagination. Pretend they're playing “You Just May Be The One” or something.

The song eventually fades out, and everyone applauds. As the noise dies down, a single news reporter in the audience approaches, tape recorder microphone in hand. “So, what are you boys planning on next?”

“Sleeping.” They all said at once.

And with that, the episode fades to black.

At this part, the end credits would be playing, but – oh, you've got it by now.

Use your imagination.

[rpintheskies-blog]

name: imogen valentine carson

age: 16 (and human)

family: mother: diana carson (part time nurse), father: dean carson (former literature professor), brother and sister twins- 9 years old ophelia and cassio (cassio recently gone missing and found dead)

friends: best friend are kaia (“kiki”- a cheerleader, romantic, and flirt) and dexter (“dex”- a stoner, lazy, and art lover). she hates elena’s goonies, especially elena. however, she is currently in a year and few months long relationship with elena’s little brother: jeremy gilbert.

hobbies: a cheerleader, loves dance (especially ballet), babysitting (cassio and ophelia of course), studying for the only class she actually likes: art history, watching obscure films with jeremy, talking shit with kiki, reading (not shakespeare though, her father ruined that by naming them all that), watching cassio play baseball and ophelia softball, flirting, debating anything with dexter. 

personality: stubborn, smart, hard-working, determined, was more of a goody-two-shoes but is more adventurous and daring, however she’s pure at the heart, a romantic and optimist in most situation, family person, friendly, loyal, kind, sweet, creative.

flaws:

- when she hates someone she hates them with a BURNING passion (sorry elene lmao rip)

- she’s too stubborn for her own good and most of the time stands up for things she doesn’t even believe in just to argue or because she was told not to

- very absent-minded, day dreams A LOT

- somehow terribly oblivious to the supernatural aspect of mystic falls

- when she gives up, she gives up. but when she’s focused she is crazy focused.

// jeremy and imogen //

Imogen was heart-broken. She worked her ass off in class, out of class, all the time for ballet. She went to classes rather than the parties in her grade. She threw out her social life- even resorting to the bare minimal texts to Dex and the only passing conversations with Kiki. She refused to join cheerleading. She refused to eat any foods that were even slightly processed. Her grades fell, her feet were heavily blistered and ruined, yet all she could think about was practice. Practice, and practice, and practice. She would spend more than five hours a day practicing, and when she wasn’t by herself she was in class trying to soak up all the advice and teaching she could. She was seconds from breaking. 

And she did. She broke. Hard. Something in her gut saw it coming, possibly it was her parents' sudden quietness when she entered the room. How her father looked more disheveled than usual, and how they ate out less. But nothing could prepare her for that Tuesday night. It was pasta night, Cassio and Ophelia were ecstatic because mom and dad bought them Chef Bouyarde. Something they would only beg for every single supermarket run. Mother would chide them, commenting on how it was just full of chemicals and question why they would want chemicals when she made great pasta herself. Imogen got alfredo pasta. Grandma’s recipe that she absolutely worshipped. Her mother would only make it for special occasions: awards, performance nights, first day of school dinners, and so on. However, today was none of that. It was a boring old Tuesday night. Thus, when Imogen’s eyes fell on the white sauce, she frowned deeply. Her stomach did summersaults and not ones of joy.  

“Tell me.” Imogen demanded, crossing her arms. She leaned against the doorframe into the kitchen. Her eyes were narrowed with determination. She was determined to finally get some answers. Her mother’s eyes flickered up to her, her lips turned downwards but she quickly pushed them upwards, nodding towards the bowl of pasta, “Do you want me to fix you up a plate, Genny?” She asked in a tone that was sickly sweet.

“Mom.” Imogen persisted, her tone more tired, the words barely distinguished from the deep sigh she exhaled. Her mothers tight and small smile she forced on slowly deteriorated. It wasn’t going to be held for long anyway. Her mother was equally exhausted.

“Your father has been laid off.”

It took a while for Imogen to truly understand what that meant for her. But she learned quick. His loss of job wasn’t recent. He had been job searching for months now. They were running low on money, and mother was working longer shifts at the hospital in hopes to make up for it. Cassio and Ophelia were very worried about whether or not they would be receiving fewer gifts for their birthdays. Imogen asked about her lessons and she wished she hadn’t. Of course, ignoring the truth wouldn’t make it not happen. She couldn’t remember for how long she cried when they said she wouldn’t be able to take lessons for a while. They were expensive, fair enough. But it was the tipping point for Imogen. 

***

Imogen set cross legged on the back stairs of the school, whereas Dexter sat on top of one of the huge dumpsters, his skinny legs hanging over. He had his hair in his new hairdo obsession: cornrows. Practically falling off his nose was a small and thin pair of sunglasses, dangling off his nose like the joint off his fingers. “Man, that’s tough. I can’t even imagine, Gen. Damn, you know if he going to get a job soon?” He took a long drag of the blunt, holding his breath as he waited for her to respond. 

“Doubt it.” She mumbled, watching him exhale the smoke through his nostrils, a smug look on his face. She frowned, narrowing her eyes and furrowing her eyebrows. Determined, she pushed herself off the steps and marched over, plucking the joint out of his hand and pressing it against her lips. She tried to copy what she saw Dexter do every day, breathe it in and inhale like you’re sucking out of a straw. She didn’t expect it to be so strong and to burn her throat. She yanked it out of her mouth and curled over coughing her lungs out. Tears pricked her eyes. Dexter watched her with wide eyes, wondering if he was truly tripping this hard or if Imogen ‘goody-two-shoes’ Carson really took a hit. 

“Woah, woah, woah... Gen, you ok? You know first timers-” 

“I’m fine.” She managed with a weak voice, straightening up and wiping her eyes with the back of her non-joint hand. She went to take another try when she heard a voice behind her. 

“Hey, do you mind if I have some?” Low and behold it was the voice of no other than ‘Little Gilbert’ AKA Elena Gilbert’s little brother. Imogen slightly glared at him, probably hating him by assosciation. She raised her right hand, which hend the blunt between the two forefingers, and shook it slightly some ashes flying off it. 

“You want a hit of this thing, ‘Little Gilbert’?” 

“It’s Jeremy, and actually, yeah I want a hit of that joint. You can say it, it’s not a bad word.” Jeremy said, his dark eyes glaring down at her back. His arms were folded against his chest. He was too upset and in a mood to deal with this kind of shit. Little did he know that Imogen was in a mood too, and no one, no one, talked back to her. 

Frowning, rather annoyed at being told off, Imogen glanced back at Dexter who just shrugged. Deciding not to start a fight she didn’t need, she pushed the joint is his direction. He gave her an attempt at a smile, and took it, instantly relaxing as he inhaled a big breath. Slowly taking another drag, he took a seat on a crate. 

From then on, Jeremy would join them as they smoked (in which Imogen would rarely par take- in hopes that she would be able to go to classes again). Imogen and Jeremy would argue over the most stupid things, and bicker. Imogen appreciated it. 

***

It wasn’t long until they started dating. It was shortly after Kiki dared Imogen to go out with a guy from their rivalry school- Bridgeback High. She was a cheerleader at this time being coherced into signing up by Kiki (”What else are you going to do if you don’t have dance? You won’t injure yourself. I promise”) and it was practically illegal for a cheerleader to do it. Kiki wanted to see if she could go a week dating the kid without being kicked off the team. Thankfully, she managed. However, Jeremy wasn’t so pleased. 

One afternoon, she brought her ‘boyfriend’ to the smoking spot. In hopes that some of the team would see them together as she brought him over. She had to make it obvious they were a ‘thing’ or else she didn’t truly fulfill the dare (according to Kiki). Imogen was wearing her cheerleading uniform with his Rams varsity jacket over it. It was definitely a sight, once that sparked a lot of whispering and aghast looks as she walked by. His hand was low on her waist, way too low for her liking, but she had to keep it going. The pair finally reached Dexter and Jeremy. Dexter elbowed Jeremy, his mouth slightly open in shock. Jeremy’s eyes slowly trailed upwards and his face fell more by each second, until finally he was frowning and standing up. 

“Who’s this douche, Minnie?” Jeremy said, walking over to the football player, his eyes narrowed practically into slits and a scowl resting on his face. 

Imogen frowned, her eyebrows knitting into confusion. “He’s not a douche, his name is Nate and he’s my boyfriend.” She pulled herself out of Nate’s now protective grip to stand in front of him. “What’s your problem Jeremy?” She said under her breath, giving him her best ‘what the f**k?’ look. 

“What’s my problem? What’s your problem? Degrading yourself to a varsity jersey? Letting him put his hands all over you and stare at you like you’re a piece of meat? God, Minnie, I thought you had more respect for yourself than that.” 

That’s when Nate scoffed. Making things much worse. The more muscular guy pushed himself in front of Imogen, practically pushing her away. “Emo dude, let the chick do what she wants.” It wasn’t longer than a millisecond before Jeremy swung backwards, his fist connecting with Nate’s face. All Hell broke loose. Jeremy and Nate started to toussle, Dexter quickly stepped away, and Elena’s boyfriend at the time Matt stepped in along with his best friend Tyler, separating the two guys. 

Imogen wanted to tell them to f**ck off and just because they did anything for Elena (for some reason she couldn’t understand) didn’t mean they had to get into Jeremy’s private matters. But she was just thankful he was okay and the fight was over. They spent the night with his head in her lap, her icing his swollen lip and playing with his hair. 

‘Why’d you do that?” She asked softly, a few hours in to the film marathon they were having at her house (Mom and Dad were at a parent and teacher’s conference at the elemntary school for Ophelia and Cassio). 

“Which part?” Jeremy asked, sitting up slowly and grunting so he could face her.

Imogen let out a small breath of a laugh, a confused smile on her face as she looked up at him, them a lot closer than she even realized. “All of it.” 

Jeremy’s face softened. It was probably the most she had seen since she started talking to him which was after his parents’ death. His eyes met her and she felt somehting in her chest she never felt before. She felt heavy and weightless at the same time. 

“Because I like you.” And with that, she grabbed his cheeks with both of her hands and pulled him down to her, crashing her lips against his. 

For the first time since she stopped truly dancing, she felt right.

[mysticmikalla]

oMG i'm so excited!!! would it be okay if i request some angst between jumin and the f!mc? i'm always seeing the bois getting jealous over mc, but never the other way around. so for this request could you please write a scenario of jumin blatantly letting another business woman flirt with him and him (out of pure business interest lmao bcs old habits die hard) flirting back? and mc/reader gets mad/jealous and idk just like arguing, and mc not talking to him, and like just angst but fluff (+)

Aye aye, thank you!!!! Your angsty but fluffy wish is my command!

***

It wasn’t as if you were blind to all the stares Jumin got from women all around him

Hell, they even shamelessly flirted with him when you two were out together, disregarding your presence completely and undressing him with their eyes right there in front of you

But you never really let it get to you, because the more they came onto him, they more he shut them out using polite words but  ruthlessly enough so they’d know better than to try again

So you were never bothered by it, not really

Not until he gave you a reason to be

It was as if you were invisible, standing behind him and listening to words hinting affection that weren’t directed at you, but at a neatly-dressed woman with lustful intentions in her eyes

You knew that look too well, it was how every woman looked at him, but it was Jumin’s tone that felt foreign

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest as the woman walked away with a smug smile plastered onto her face, probably satisfied at the mutual affection she had gotten from the handsome corporate prince 

Jumin adjusted his tie and slowly turned around, a small smile rising on his lips upon seeing you

“Hello, my love.” He greeted you cheerfully 

But when he approached you to give you a peck on the lips, he was met with your cheek instead

“Is something the matter?” He his brows pulled together in a frown, searching for your gaze

But you stubbornly refuse to look at him, your skin crawling with jealously and mistrust

“Who was that just now?”

He titled his head at your question, wondering what it had anything to do with your cold greeting

He’d actually had nearly forgotten he had been talking to someone prior to you. The conversation being so bland and routine that it escaped his mind almost immediately after seeing you

“She is the owner of a famous coffee business looking to expand to Korea,” he explained, “We might soon close a deal with her if everything in her end works out.”

“Does the deal involve you entertaining her advances towards you?”

He studied your face, perplexed to find your brows pulling together and eyes narrowing as you spoke

“Is that what has been troubling you?”

You scoffed, “Seeing your fiance flirting with another woman isn’t exactly the best feeling in the word, you know?”

Jumin has taken aback by the sudden harshness of your tone, “I didn’t do it out of malice, MC. It’s simply a business deal.”

“Not to me!” You argued, “You don’t have to come onto them to get a deal done. You make deals with businessmen all the time just fine without it.”

“It is just a business deal, my love. You are being irrational about this.”

He reached for you one more time, but you pulled away from him, too irritated to allow yourself to feel his touch

“I’m not being irrational! I can’t believe you would do that for the sake of a deal!”

“It’s what I’ve always done. I have never had a problem with it.”

“But that was before…. you know, me. Us.”

Jumin meant no harm by what he said, but it felt like someone knocked the air out of you as he uttered those words

“Nothing has changed.”

You blinked at him, taking a few seconds before fully processing his words. Nothing had changed?

After everything you had been through and all the things he said to you over the course of your relationship, nothing had changed?

You shook your head, a disbelieving sigh escaping you lips, “Nothing has changed, huh?”

“That’s not what I meant-”

You waved him off, “I know exactly what you meant. I’m going home, Jumin.”

“I thought you were spending the weekend at the penthouse?”

“I change my mind, I don’t want to be with you right now. I want to be alone.”

It was his own heart that fell too big for his chest right now, threatening to suffocate his lungs

“Let’s talk about this, you are not thinking straight right now.”

“You’re the one not thinking straight when it comes to women,” you spat, regretting your words immediately after they left your lips, “You’re just like your father.”

Just like your father? Really, MC?! You cursed yourself all the way home, wanting to smash your head into the wall for being so goddamn stupid

You got in the shower once you made it to your empty apartment hoping to relieve your stress, movements as heavy as your heart, Out of all the things you could say to him, you choose that! How fucking heartless are you?!

And when you curled up in your bed, thinking about how you should be with him right now, you muttered, “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

You had never seen that look of betrayal in his eyes before, and it would not leave your mind as you tossed and turned, hopelessly attempting to fall asleep

You had never been one to lash out like that, to purposely hurt someone because they hurt you. But jealously made you blind, wanting him to feel what you had, to hurt him as he had hurt you

But, hah! Joke’s on you, MC, you feel even worse now

He had called several times and sent innumerous texts, either asking for forgiveness or for a chance to talk

You didn’t reply to single one of them, out of shame and lack of words to say to him. He didn’t even try to stop you as you left the C&R building, probably too hurt or angry at your words to chase after you

You wanted to be alone, but you didn’t want to feel alone. And right now, the feeling was eating you away as you replayed the downwards tugging of lips when you used something he entrusted you his feelings towards against him

Stupid, MC, stupid, you damned yourself before finally drifting off into a restless slumber

Jumin woke up tired the next day

Mornings were usually when he was most productive, but even willing himself out of bed was an exhausting challenge

He was usually a quiet sleeper, but now his bed sheets were all over the place from moving too much during his sleepless night

As he would begin to drift off, Jumin tried reaching for you across the bed, only to be met with your cold pillow bitterly reminding him that you weren’t there

You were probably home alone, and knowing you, you probably spent the same restless night as he did

And it was his fault

He couldn’t believe he had been so naive. Of course you were hurt, he could now see your reason for being so

If only he had realized it sooner and apologized instead of being stubborn, you two would have shared a night of laughter and passion, but that was an impossibility now

His heart sunk a little lower each time he got your voicemail, and he restlessly checked his messages, hoping to see your reply, even if they were harsh words

Anything was better than your deafening silence. It was as if he was transported to the time before he met you, and it was suffocating how Jumin couldn’t share his thoughts with you

You had visited him on a Friday, and with Sunday evening quickly approaching, he made his mind to go to your apartment despite your wishes to be alone

He was expecting you to yell at him, to be so upset you wouldn’t answer the door when he knocked, to even cuss him out

Jumin was not expecting you to be at the other side of the door of his penthouse, about to knock

There was a moment of silence when your eyes met, him being surprised that you were there and you searching for hurt or anger in his eyes

“I was on my way to see you.” It was him who spoke first

“I guess I beat you to it,” you gave him a soft smile, and he swore his heart immediately felt a thousand pounds lighter upon seeing it, “Jumin, I-”

“Let’s talk inside.” He stepped aside so you could enter. Having you in his house was a feeling he knew he would never fully get used to. Not only were you safe, you were with him, you were there for him

The house felt cold and empty in your absence, and only now did he realize how much you truly made it a home

“I’m sorry.” You breathed once he shut the door behind you. He kept his distance,  painfully remembering how you didn’t want to be touched by him few days prior

“There is no need for you to be sorry. I’m the one who should be apologizing.” 

“N-no. What I said to you…No matter how hurt I was, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, I can’t believe I said that to you, I didn’t mean it. You’re nothing like your father when it comes to that, and I hate myself for saying it.”

His eyes softened while you spoke, and temptingly he stretched his hand out for you to take. Relieved that you didn’t reject his touch again, he gently pulled you towards him, “Please don’t hate yourself, my love, I know you didn’t mean it. But I understand why you said it. I wasn’t thinking of how it would affect you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You murmured against his chest, “I know you didn’t mean it, either. I may have overreacted a bit, I’m sorry.”

He placed a tender the top of your head, “I’m the one who acted irrationally, not you. I guess I was doing what I had always done, and I didn’t consider that you might not be okay with it. It was selfish of me to say that nothing changed.”

Jumin brushed your hair over your ear so he could see your face better, and tilting your chin up, he murmured, “Everything has changed. You have no idea of the impact you’ve had in my life. I’m ten times the person I used to be because of you, MC, and I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you enough for staying by me all this time.”

“Jumin..”

“And I’m sorry for hurting you. I was an idiot for doing what I did, I know I would be hurt if I saw you do the same.”

“I would never do that.”

“I know,” he chuckled, “Which is one of the many reasons why you’re so much better than me.”

You nuzzled further into the warmth of the embrace, feeling his chest rise up and down as he breathed, “That’s not true. We’re both still learning how to do this.”

“I guess we are,” he agreed, drawing circles with his thumb in between your shoulder blades, “You must be tired, what do you say we finish this chat in the bedroom? We have a whole weekend of catching up to do.”