#then i get to sit on solid ground and kiss it better for him

[mimipolo]

If you do nsfw requests, could you do nam-gyu being submissive? If not, how about sharing a bed with him? Thanks and have a great day! ❤️

sub!Nam-gyu x reader (nsfw)

This will be my first time writing smut but for you anon I will. You were definitely cooking with the idea tho, he could be made submissive.

It's another one of those cold nights. You're enjoying the cool weather, leaning against the window sill and gazing out dreamily. Life was tiring, managing check to check was tiring. But somewhere amid the chaos you managed to find solid ground, a stable job that pays enough to pay the bills and have extra left over. Life was good.

Even Nam-gyu was getting better, for you. Yes he's still working towards sobriety but you rather he'd be drunk or high off weed than drugs.

That's when you hear the door unlock from the living room. Knowing it was him from the jangling of his keys. Your mood perks up a bit knowing he's finally home from work, you missed him during the day as you usually worked from home.

You're about to step out the bedroom to welcome him home but he's already there, eyes low and focused as he hovers you. There's a softness to his demeanor you couldn't pin point. You couldn't name what's different yet so instinctively you still move in to embrace him. Linking your fingers behind his back as you kiss his jaw gently.

"Welcome home, how was work?"

"Okay."

At his dry response you're immediately confused, tilting your head slightly at him. Usually he'd be more than happy to talk your ear off about how annoying work was and it's crappy customers that spill liquor everywhere and so on.

But he's quiet, eyes still intently fixed on you as if expectantly. His breath smelling sweeter than usual is the only thing you could note. Your eyebrows screw together tighter as silence continues to dominate the room.

"Something happen?"

What you didn't expect was when you squeezed his waist to urge him to talk was the faint whimper that falls from his lips, his body suddenly hunching over yours. It feels hot to the touch even under his clothes.

"Please..."

Is the only word he mutters, his hands shakily reaching for you, digging themselves under your sweater to roam the warmth hidden under. It finally clicks in your head what's going on and it takes everything not to laugh at how soft he's being as he buries his head into your shoulder. You know he'd get embarassed and back out even in this state.

Glancing down to look into his eyes it didn't look like he was high, he looked transfixed. His face blushed a soft pink and lips slightly parted in a way that makes you want to coo at him.

"Please what Nam?" he groans in frustration at your words, already knowing he won't get anything unless he asks.

"You know what you always do this..." Huffing defeatedly against your neck as you rub his back.

"I want you... please." You roll your eyes softly at his answer, knowing this was the best you'd get from him as you lead him to lie on your bed.

His back is to the headboard and he's immediately grasping for you, grabbing your face firmly to kiss you as you straddle his lap. He's whining in the saddest way inbetween each breath as if he could do without air. When he knows you're not pulling away he lets go of your face and holds your waist in a death grip, still pulling you impossibly closer.

You smile against his sloppy kisses while your hands move to his waist, fingers purposefully grazing his crotch to see how sensitive he was. The violent buck into your palm tells you enough, he sighs shakily at the feeling, stopping mid kiss to collect himself, his gaze shifting away from yours as he mutters something you can't decipher under his breath.

"It's okay hm? You came to me for help right?"

You gently comfort him through it, you knew he couldn't handle the potential ego bruise if you teased him too much. He brushed his hair hurriedly behind his ears as he nods, sitting up right for you as if he was recieving a reward.

Stiffling a whimper behind his hand as he watches you unzip his trousers, his breaths are heavy above you and you're honestly just enjoying doing things slowly. He's so hard it hurts and he genuinely wonders how he managed to stay calm when he first saw you, looking at him so affectionately.

The thought of you just looking at him like that again has him grinding into your hand as you finally peel off his boxers. Seeing you holding up his shirt he takes charge of taking the peice of cloth from your hands and keeping it between his teeth. You look up at him gratefully and his body flushes hotter. He didn't understand why he always felt this way whenever you looked so calm taking him into your care.

He's hot, everywhere you could tell his body was flushed even under the moonlight. He leans towards the thicker side and he's an overall average length. A soft squeeze draws a low moan from him, beads of pre cum dripping thickly from his tip. You both just stare for a moment before he breathlessly speaks up.

"I- Just do it already or I'm gonna lose it here..."

His grip on your hips even tighter as he waits for you, never taking any action himself, a silent agreement of obedience. You peck his lips softly, moving your hand slowly up and down his shaft, whispering sweet words that have him curling into you almost suffocatingly.

Eventually you pick up the pace slightly, his mouth now sucking into the skin of your neck, out of his own desire to have you and to quiet his moans. You could feel the slick from his tip smearing on your clothes, still so persistent to get closer to you as if he isn't already breathing down your neck. A broken "Faster-" catches your attention and you realise you'd been maintaining the same pace for at least twenty minutes.

"'M sorry, gonna get you there okay?" You mutter apologetically, your free hand stroking through his hair. He tries to respond but he's cut off by being jerked off faster, nodding his head as he unlatches his mouth from your neck. He's switching between curses and strained "thank you"'s the faster you go.

You know he's getting close when his hips start flinching and his body's so hunched over yours you could end up on your back, it was like he was engulfing you(it's happened before.) You genuinely wonder what has him so worked up like this all of a sudden but you don't mind, it's one of the only times he likes to listen to whatever you say.

With a gutteral moan he suddenly comes undone, shooting ropes into your fist. Slipping down the smooth surface of his abdomen and unfortunately, on your sweater too. You watch him with wide eyes, he came faster than he usually does. He slowly comes down from his high, you softly jerking him through it.

He seems to come back to reality at the last moment, unconsciously leaning his full body weight against you. You groan externally as you're made to fall onto your back, his hands squeezing at your chest dazily as he moves to rest his head against yours.

You can feel the cum on his stomach smear against yours when he shifted it up to get his hands under your sweater, making you groan in annoyance. But he seems completely unbothered, to you and the mess he's made of your clothes.

"Care to share what happened now?"

"Chocolates at work, dunno they had some crazy shit in them, felt so good." Is what he mutters before dosing off but you're left thinking. Aphrodisiacs? At the bar? He didn't ask before just eating them??You don't get the opportunity tonight to ask him all your questions. They'll have to wait till later.

I hope this is okay, I honestly was sweating writing this.

[ask-ethari-anything]

I’m going to force you on the fastest rollercoaster.

Tone tags, love. I cannae tell if you're Lira or Claudia.

[hoshifighting]

heyy there!!

I was wondering if you could write a fiction where the svt members give a silent treatment to the reader but she is too sensitive and starts crying (because she thinks she doesn't deserve them)

Please feel free to reject it if ur uncomfortable 😚😚

seventeen reaction when you start to cry when they give you a silent treatment

a/n: guyyyys im the worst with angst, but i tried!! 🙏

seungcheol the second you start shaking, he’s up on his feet, crossing the room and pulling you into a tight, crushing hug. he’s warm, solid, his hand gently cradling the back of your head. “my fault, my fault, my fault,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “i should’ve been better. i should’ve stopped this. i didn’t mean to hurt you. god, i didn’t mean it.”

jeonghan’s regretting it the whole time. too good at keeping his distance, until he sees the tears running down your cheeks. then, he freezes “hey, hey…” he pulls you into his arms, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “shit, i’m sorry. you know i was just being stupid, right?” he leans his forehead against yours, brushing his fingers through your hair. “don’t cry, baby. it kills me to see you like this.”

joshua he’s always so gentle, i dont even see him giving silent treatment to someone. he’s instantly at your side, cupping your face in his hands. “please don’t cry. i hate this. i hate that i made you feel like this.” his voice wavers as he presses his lips to your forehead, his touch feather-light. “i love you, okay? i’m so sorry. i should’ve never let it get this far.”

junhui’s been avoiding your gaze, trying to keep the silence going even though it’s killing him. that first broken sob makes him almost freak out, he’s at your side, his hands trembling as he touches your arm. “oh— i— no, don’t cry,” he murmurs, his voice in purew panic. he gently pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

hoshi snapd. of course he snaps. he practically flies out of his seat, rushing over to you, arms wide. “oh, shit—no, no, don’t cry, don’t cry,” he blurts out, voice frantic as he wraps you up in the tightest hug, almost lifting you off the ground with how desperate he is. his fingers stroke your back awkwardly, trying to soothe you, and his voice is trembling.

wonwoo when he sees the tears fall, something inside him bursts. he’s not good at dealing with emotions, but he can’t just sit there while you’re crying. he pulls you gently onto his lap, his hand awkwardly stroking your hair. “i’m sorry, i don’t always know how to show it… but i care. a lot. i never wanted to make you cry.” he presses a kiss to your temple, his heart racing. “don’t cry, please. or I will cry too.” wonwoo says—already crying.

woozi stands up, awkwardly hovering for a second before pulling you into a tight hug. “fuck… i’m sorry,” he whispers against your hair. “i didn’t mean to push you this far.” his grip on you tightens, and he rests his chin on your head, letting out a shaky breath. “i can’t stand seeing you like this.” fingers twitching like he’s about to break any second.

minghao crouches down now too, right in front of you. he doesn’t say much at first, just gently tugs your hands away from your face, his touch delicate, like he’s scared to break you even more. “this was stupid, i shouldn’t have done this. it was childish.” he holds your gaze, his eyes serious “you didn’t deserve that.” kisses the back of your hands, laying his head on your knees begging you for forgiveness.

mingyu is already full of shame before you even start crying. but when the sobs hit, he stops dead in his tracks. he rushes to you, kneeling down in front of you. his large hands cup your face, and his thumbs brush away your tears. “fuck, i never wanted to make you cry.” his voice cracks, and he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, his head buried in your shoulder. looks like he’s about to break down himself.

seokmin gets on his knees beside you, eyes wide and watery, his usual smile completely gone. “my love i—” he says in this tiny voice, like he’s terrified he made everything worse. his hands flutter near your arm before he finally grips your sleeve like he needs you to believe him. “please don’t cry because of me.”

seungkwan’s been fidgeting the whole time, hating every second of the silence. thinking it couldn't get worse until you break in front of him “oh my god,” he blurts out, rushing over to you, his voice frantic. he pulls you into his arms, holding you as tight as he can. he lets out a shaky breath. “you’re everything to me. i’m sorry for making you feel like this.”

vernon is not sure how to fix it, thinking that in all ways, this sucked. the second you start crying, his chest tightens, and he’s at your side, pulling you into his lap. “i’m so so sorry. i didn’t mean to let it get this bad.” he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, trying to look into your eyes, pressing his lips into a line when you look away. “i’m here, okay? i’m here.” he presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

chan would be standing by the door, but the second you sob again, he’s crossing the room in three big steps, hands flinching to touch you and flinching back at him again as if he would burn you if he did. he would rather sit beside you still in silence, to find the best words since he hasn't talked during this whole time.

[onetoomanyfandomfixations]

Helluva Boss Characters Reacting to You Asking for a Hug

Tbh this series is just for my own enjoyment at this point lmao

I’m so normal about them, I swear.

BLITZØ

Honestly, it depends on what type of relationship you have with him

Familial relationship? Best BELIEVE he’s coddling the shit outta you rn

^ def a cheek pincher

“Hey sweetie? Do you need me ta fuck someone up for ya?”

But if y’all are platonic, or SATAN FORBID

R O M A N T I C ?

Ur not getting Shit

Well, until you start crying

“You’re a fuckin’ baby, you know that?”

Very casual hugs

Always sits his chin on you

Will complain the entire time

But you both know he loves you

LOONA

“Oh shit, you good?”

She’s blunt, not heartless

Honestly pretty touched that you asked for a hug instead of just going for one

Like her adoptive dad, very casual hugs

Usually just slings an arm over your shoulders

Won’t talk to you about it

Y’all just sit in comforting silence

Don’t let anyone point out that she’s letting you touch her

Will get v flustered

Depending on how you both feel - may let you play with her hair to self regulate

MILLIE

“Sure thing, hun!”

Doesn’t matter who you are, or why you need a hug, she’ll take it

Physical affection is her top love language idc

Squeezes super super tight

Like, you can barely breathe

Gushes over how sweet you are

Will probs pepper your face in kisses too (doesn’t matter what ur relationship with her is)

((Millie is a strong believer in non-romantic kisses, she told me herself))

Will probs ask Moxxie to bring y’all a drink

MOXXIE

“Uhh, you sure you want a hug from me?”

Yes babe I’m sure

Doesn’t think he’s the best one to be comforting you - will palm you off to Millie if he can

But will be offended if anyone else says he can’t look after you

^^ Gets all huffy about it

Distraction is his new best friend

Will tell you a mixture of stories and fun facts to try and make you feel better

Will also make you a hot drink

If you want to, will talk out your feelings with you

STOLAS

Babes just blinks for a hot minute as your words register with him

Has the softest smile

“Of course, dearest. Come here.”

A hug isn’t enough for him, you’re in for a full blown cuddle sesh now

Likes the feeling of having you fully wrapped up in his arms

Forehead kisses. Forehead Kisses.

Will sometimes swaddle you in blankets like a literal baby

Hums softly for you

Tries to ask what’s wrong, will def push the subject

He just wants to fix it, okay?

Will just,,, smother you in affection until you’re okay

And then some

OCTAVIA

Judgemental eyebrow raise.

Judgy, judgy girl

Y’all gotta be CLOSE for her to hug

((But not really, she’s so touch starved its not funny, but we don’t talk about that-))

Long, comforting hugs

If u end up crying, will fix your makeup for you

Don’t mention it though

Like, literally don’t mention it or it won’t happen again

She probs just breathes a sigh of relief when y’all hugs

Holds on a little too tight, for a little too long

If you ask first, she’ll start coming to you for hugs now too

FIZZAROLLI

Baby. Baby, baby man.

Will wrap his arms around you several times over

Another really tight hugger

You had shit to do?

Sike, not anymore

Now you’re spending all day with Fizz

Your fault, you started it by asking for a hug

Is super worried about you, but tries to play it down

Will do stupid shit just to see you laugh

Will ALSO flirt with you until you can’t stand it anymore

ASMODEUS

Immediately concerned, does not try to hide it

Much like his bf, cancels all plans for today

Y’all are gonna be chilling in bed and cuddling now

Just kinda,,, scoops you up?

Definitely plays with your hair

Gives a SOLID head massage

So so gentle and sweet

Just lays you on his chest

Draws pictures on your back and makes you guess what he’s drawing

^^ he does this to help ground you

Tbh he’ll probably drag Fizz to bed too, so know they’re both looking after you

Mans isn’t gonna let anyone get left out

[bettysupremacy]

Omg imagine james doing something stupid (not much imagination needed there) and r is telling him of (lovingly) and he’s just like “yes ma’am🫡” and the others are like side eyeing him I just NEED james to call me ma’am in an argument

i hope you are having a great december so far my love

(not much imagination needed there) LOL

i could kiss you this idea is so cute thank you lovely

“Oh, my boy.” You croon to the mess tumbling into your lap. Softly, you brush some hair from his fluttering eyes. “What‘ve the evil twins done to you.”

“Evil twins!” Sirius gasps.

Remus laughs. “That’s a new one.”

You don’t look up from the sickly boy careening for your touch. “What did they feed you?”

He moans into you, muttering something you can’t pick up. He’s gone all right, ten shades of flushed and warm to the touch. It’s already a warm night, but this is no warmth that came naturally.

“We didn’t do anything.” Remus denies impishly.

“Puking pastilles again?” You eye them. “Do you know how long we sat by the toilet?”

“That was not our fault.”

“And neither were the nosebleed nougats?” You sigh. “Seriously thought his brain was coming out his nose.”

Sirius nods in agreement nose scrunching. “Not his finest moment.”

“Because of you.”

“Don’t start with me, woman.” His finger points between your eyes.

James is malleable under you, nose pressing into your thigh coyly. You see the corner of a smile as you fuss, guilty pleasure at your roaming touch. The room is hot, warm bodies passing and going as they please through the small flat. You fear he may run a fever, though that’s uncommon. James immune system is a rock, solid at anything thrown to it.

You press your hand to his forehead. “Has he had to much?”

The boys eye each other suspiciously. “Too much?”

You scoff. “To drink?”

“Depends.” Sirius shrugs

“On what!”

Their dubious behavior alarms you. These boys are up to something, or rather, were up to something, and now they’re avoiding dealing with the consequence of you.

“The substance.”

“Substance?” You sit up straight, shuffling the boy under you. He grumbles in protest.

“Potion.” Remus gives.

You frown apprehensively. “You didn’t.”

“We didn’t,” Sirius starts.

“he did.” Remus finishes.

Felix Felicis. They’d been talking about it a couple weeks ago, getting their hands on some. You protested, begged them, to forget it. It’s too dangerous, your voice of reason lowered their spirits, James you’ll be sleeping on the couch if you risk yourself like that.

“No,” You whine, fretting over the intoxicated fool. “how much?”

“Ask loverboy.”

“The whole,” James takes a deep breath mid sentence. “bottle.”

“Oh my god,” your eyes wide at the older boys standing. “he’ll be puking all night.”

“Maybe not..”

Your face drops into your hands exhausted. “Puking Pastilles all over again.”

“M’sorry.” James moans under you. “M’so sorry, lovely.”

“That was so stupid.” You scold lightly, hand coming down to flatten over his collar bones. “So, so, so, stupid!”

You're ruffled, shaken at the thought of him downing such an expensive, easily tainted, potion.

“Do you listen to everything they tell you to do?”

“No,” he starts slowly.

“Seems like it.” You bristle, pulling him up to sit. You look into his eyes seriously and he shuffles, nervous under your gaze. “Get a mind of your own.”

His fingers twitch at the hem of the dress you’d picked out tonight, squeezing it in his grip, grounding himself in reality. “Yes ma’am.”

Sirius scoffs behind you, shaking his head at Remus who looks equally perturbed at James’ extra affection. Under them, you wrap your arms around his neck surely. Besides the soft sent of sickly sweet potion, he smells of pine and cologne. You let yourself recognize his body is continuing to function as it should. Untouched, mostly, by the yellow inebriant.

“I can’t stand you, do you feel well?”

“I’m feeling better.”

You stick your face in his shoulder. “Be serious.”

“No, I don’t feel well.”

You sigh into him, pressing a kiss into his freckled skin. He won’t sleep on the couch tonight, though you aught to teach him a lesson.

“We’re going home.”

“What?” James frowns. “We only just got here.”

“D’you have another pool to jump in?”

He cringes at the memory of his fireball spree. “Kay, coming.”

You collect your coat and purse as you stand, leaving James to fend for himself behind you. “Felix Felicis isn’t a joke, one wrong tincture of thyme and you’re in St Mungo’s- James, were are your shoes?”

[jobean12-blog]

Falling Fast

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 1,938

Summary: Every moment spent with him pulls you closer to the edge and when you're forced to have time apart it only makes you realize how much you want to be with him.

Author's Note: Here's more for Marcus and our princess! It's so lovely to know some of you are enjoying this as much as I am, so thank you, from the bottom of my heart. All these stories can be read as stand alones but if you want to get into the finer details then you can check out the other's here, in this order: Falling First, Falling Fast, Falling for the Forbidden, Forbidden, A Warrior's Heart (this last one is in the far future). Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 😘

Warnings: sweet softness, tension, more book/poetry talk, stolen moments, a kiss

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

Sunlight filters through the open spaces in the roof and dust dances in the shining rays as you sit with your head bent to a book. It bores you, however, so you snap it shut and place it down on the table.

You reach for the nearest wooden ladder and start to climb. Boxes of scrolls flank you on either side but you’re in search of more poetry from your father’s rare collection of books. Most of them are on the art of war but thankfully there are some hidden gems among the rest.

You stop climbing when you spot an ornate binding and reach for it. When you open the volume, dust floats up and out, tickling your nose and causing you to sneeze. Regardless you keep turning the pages, eagerly absorbing every word while still standing on the steps of the ladder.

“Surely the Princess should not be reading in such a precarious position.”   

“What?” you say with a start, searching the space.

The General stands at the entrance of the portico, his ornamental cuirass dazzling in the shafts of sunlight he walks through as he approaches.

“That’s not a safe place for you to read,” he muses with a smile playing upon his lips.

You look down at yourself as if remembering everything that has happened in the last few minutes all at once.

“Oh…well I…”

You clear your throat and clutch the wooden post of the ladder more tightly. Once the General is standing below you, he holds out his hand to offer assistance.

Your eyes stay locked on his as you place your hand in his own, the warmth of his calloused skin spreading along your arm and right down your spine. He reaches his free hand up and gently cradles your back until your feet touch solid ground.

“There,” he says quietly. “Much better.”

You continue to hold his gaze, swaying closer the longer his eyes stay focused on you and when they drop to your mouth you softly sigh.

The book slips from your hand when you reach for his arm and the sound echoes loudly, dragging you back to reality.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, suddenly breathless.

“The same thing you are Princess,” he answers.

When you don’t respond and the book remains on the stone floor between you, he bends to retrieve it and then takes your wrist, carefully placing the book in your hand.

“Escaping.”

Your breath catches at his confession and the urge to reach out and touch his face is overwhelming.

“General Acacius…”

“Marcus. Please.”

You swallow hard and with a small nod repeat his name in a whisper.

He steps closer, the sound of his name on your lips seeming to create a new spark of heat in his eyes.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, moving closer.

Your back hits the wall of wooden boxes and he places his large hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

“Marcus,” you whisper.

His hand drops to your cheek and his thumb sweeps across the soft skin, lifting your chin and pulling you closer.

The sound of heavy footfalls fills the hall outside the library and his eyes widen and with a muttered curse he steps away from you and moves quickly to a wall of scrolls across the room.

You stand paralyzed, the scent and the heat of his touch lingering.

Your father enters with a stoic expression and when his eyes land on you he scowls.

“Reading your romance again?” he mocks.

You open your mouth to answer but Marcus cuts in. “Actually, she was helping me find something.”

Your father’s head swings around to the General and his face lights up.

“Ah, there you are General Acacius!”

Before the General can say more your father continues, “I do hope she has not been boring you with her nonsense…”

“Not at all,” Marcus says. “She is a most gracious help.”

Your father looks between the two of you, his eyes narrowing.

“And just what is it, General, that you came into my private library looking for?” your father asks.

The General smiles warmly. “Your incredible collection of books on war, of course.”

A sadistic smile splits your father’s pursed lips. “Very good! Unfortunately, you are needed for more urgent matters. You will have to peruse my scrolls another time.”

With that he throws you a repulsed look and turns on his heel, clearly expecting the General to follow.

Marcus waits until the footsteps recede before taking long strides back to you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers as he takes your hand in his.

“What for?” you ask, your eyes tracking the movement as he lifts your hand to his lips.

“I will see you soon,” he promises before pulling you into his chest.

You gasp and lean into him, craning your neck as he dips his head. Your eyes close and your fingers curl against his cuirass but his warm breath merely fans your lips before he presses them to the corner of your mouth.

When he pulls away his expression is filled with yearning, and he gives your hand a squeeze before he lets it fall back to your side. Your lips are parted, and you sway on your feet as you watch him exit the library and follow in your father’s footsteps.

Days go by without a sight of the general and at the week’s end you can feel yourself withdrawing. You can’t focus on reading, every walk you take is spent searching for him, hoping you’ll cross paths and each night you lie awake until you remember nothing else but your dreams.

Dreams of the feel of his fingertips, his lips, his strong body pressed to yours…it’s enough to have you awakening with an aching need.

On one particularly uneventful evening you find yourself scouring the library for your book of Horace poetry. It’s been missing for days.

Deciding another walk might clear your head, you stomp away to the grounds near the Colosseum, wiggling your bare toes in the cool grass outside of the gladiator training school, while you look up at the clouds dancing across the blue sky.

You can hear the distant sound of the wooden practice weapons banging together and the indecipherable grunts and shouts of the training gladiators.

Then a commanding voice rings out over all the others and your breath hitches. You stand with a flurry of ungraceful movements and follow the sound to the open area where men are practicing.

Marcus walks tall between the lines, instructing and repositioning as he moves, all the while watching with keen eyes. You hide yourself as best you can behind the low stone wall and watch.

He’s a spectacle of power and grace and before you realize where your feet are carrying you, you’re standing in plain sight, eyes glued to the General.

“Princess,” one of the training men croons. “Have you come to enjoy the sights?”

Your eyes move slowly away from Marcus and land on the man who is speaking to you, and you lift your chin.

“I am merely out for a walk.”

He flexes his muscles and licks his lips as he eyes you hungrily.

Without warning you hear the crack of a hand against skin, and the man falls to his knees. The General stands above him.

“The Princess may enjoy whatever sights she wants without your commenting on it.”

He then brings his eyes to yours. “Forgive me. I hope you were not disturbed.”

“Not at all General,” you answer. “Just out for a walk…in search of some patience.”

Marcus’ eyes widen ever so slightly, barely enough for you to catch, but then you see his fist flex at his side and his lips twitch with a smile.

“I understand,” he replies. “I have been asked to oversee the training of the new gladiators and have been held up here at the training grounds…it is a test of my patience.”

With this new knowledge of why he’s been missing you smile and ask, “I hope you at least have had time do some reading?”

He steps closer, away from prying ears.

“I have actually.”

His smile is playful.

“Horace again?” you ask.

He nods with a slight incline of his head and says, “I hope you do not mind. It helps to pass the time here.”

“Not at all General,” you smile. “When will you be returning to the palace grounds?”

“Tonight,” he states. “I would like to visit the library again.”

You notice the trainees starting to get rowdy, their eyes warily darting between you and the General the longer you speak.

Marcus clears his throat and looks over his shoulder, causing the other men to straighten up and stand in line.

He starts to turn on his heel to address them but not before he says, quietly enough for only you to hear, “until tonight. Princess.”

The darkness of night blankets the sky and the oil lamp you hold does little to blot out the brilliance of the stars above as they twinkle through the openings in the library roof.

You’re staring up at them when he walks in. His footsteps are sure but quiet and when he reaches you, he takes the lamp from your fingers and sets it down on the table.

“I have never experienced a day longer than this,” he murmurs.

“Marcus,” you whisper, trying to restrain yourself from reaching out for him.

You look him over, noticing a large bandage wrapped around his upper bicep and gently lift your fingers to touch it.

“It is nothing,” he assures you, wrapping his fingers around yours and pulling you into his chest.

Tonight, he wears only a cloth tunic, and you can feel the way his muscles tense and shift beneath the soft fabric. Your fingertips glide across the wide breadth of his shoulders and then to toy with the pin holding the tunic in place.

You won’t meet his eyes and his grip tightens.

“Something troubles you,” he states.

“No,” you answer quickly, finally looking him in the eyes.

His eyebrows raise knowingly, and he waits.

“Yes,” you say this time, much more softly. “It is just that…the other night, here in the library…”

Your words die off with a sigh, but he finishes the thought for you.

“Why did I not kiss you?”

You suck in a breath.

“Princess. I would not have the first time my lips touch yours be anything less than perfection and under prying eyes I should not like to have been rushed.”

“Oh,” is all you can say as he easily walks you backward toward one of the stone pillars.

It’s cold when you back hits it, but you don’t care and instead press yourself closer to him.

“Marcus. Please.”

He growls out your name as he slides his hands up the curve of your waist, tucking one behind your neck and the other under your jaw. Your noses brush ever so lightly, and he closes his eyes with a deep inhale as his lips ghost along your skin.

His lips are soft and gentle as they touch your cheek, then your temple, your forehead, and finally they hover just above yours.

“Marcus…?”

“I fear that once I kiss you, I will never be able to stop.”

He breathes the words against your skin and breathes you in before his lips capture yours. It’s soft at first, tentative, but the moment you let slip the low moan at the back of your throat, it becomes insistent and intense, and you kiss him back with equal fervor.

@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @tripletstephaniescp @lizette50

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Short Frank Drabble

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank is a sweetheart when you aren’t feeling well.

warnings: swearing (I guess?), Frank being sweet, chronic pain mentions

a/n: my chronic pain has been so bothersome this week so I wrote this as catharsis. I hope you all like it!

w/c: 1.2k

Standing barefoot in the sun-streaked kitchen, you let the soft breeze waft over you as it drifted through the open window. The sounds of the city were carried to you atop the wisp of air–the beeps of early morning traffic, the distant sounds of machinery from the nearest construction site. Louder than the Manhattan ambiance, the pair of songbirds nesting on your balcony chirped and twittered. It was beautiful, serene.

Yet, from your place in front of the sink, your teeth ground together as you sluggishly scrubbed at the pan in your loose grip. Every joint in your body was pulsing with agony–a consequence of an injury you never incurred. This wasn’t a new experience. In fact, it was quite common, which was why you were frustratedly washing dishes until your painkillers kicked in.

You had tried to hold out, but after three irritating days and two sleepless nights courtesy of this renewed pain, you’d caved and thrown back a pair of ibuprofen on top of your prescription. There were a handful of reasons that could have contributed to a flare-up, but that didn’t bring you any consolation. Your flare-ups were usually short, and you tended to have a better handle on them than the ineptitude you’d displayed this week.

Sighing heavily, you narrowed your eyes at the charred mark on the frying pan you were holding, setting it atop the sink’s lip to apply more pressure. Vigorously scouring dishes was probably only going to make your existence less bearable, but sitting down and wallowing as your body ached ferociously wasn’t an activity you wanted to partake in. Well, not for the third time in 24 hours.

Finally making some headway on the patch of burnt material on the pan, your face was firmly twisted with a scowl when you heard the deadbolt unlatch. As the door creaked open, you listened to your partner’s heavy footfalls down the hallway towards you.

“You’re home early.” You forced out a huff of a laugh, strained smile across your lips.

Striding over to you, Frank’s broad shadow landed on the sink as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Squeezing you close, your back pressed flush against his chest, his chin tucking over your shoulder as he planted a kiss on your cheek.

“So? Last I checked, it ain’t a crime to run home to my girl.” He rasped deeply, tilting his forehead so it rested against your temple.

Shaking your head fondly, you leaned into Frank’s solid weight, allowing him to hold you upright. “You didn’t need to do that, Frank.”

“Who said I needed to? I wanted to, doll. Missed ya.” His voice quieted with the confession, your heart clenching with affection over his earnest tone.

“I missed you too. Always do.” You murmured, turning your face to kiss the bridge of his nose before turning back to the dishes.

“How long ya been outta bed, sweetheart?” Despite his best efforts, you spotted the concern bleeding into his words immediately.

Smile faltering, you gave a tiny shrug. “A bit. Wanted to get these done so I could cook something.”

“Shoulda told me you were hungry,” Frank frowned, stroking a thumb over your hip. “Woulda picked somethin’ up on my way back.”

“If I don’t cook the bacon in the fridge, I’ll forget about it again and it’ll go bad, so…” You trailed off, stifling a grimace at how weak the argument sounded.

Frank hummed softly, pressing a kiss to your hairline, thumb still tracing patterns into your soft skin. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and let me finish these, yah?”

Blowing air through your nose, you felt a small burst of annoyance in your chest. “I’m almost finished. It won’t take much longer.” Your voice was tight as you tried to keep your aggravation from coloring your words. It wasn’t Frank’s fault you were in a shitty mood. He was being sweet. But the suggestion still rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hey, look at me, dollface.” Using a strong finger to draw your chin upwards, he moved his hand to cradle your jaw when your eyes met his. “I’m not askin’ to take over because you’re takin’ too long. You shouldn’t be dealin’ with this crap if it ain’t gonna help ya feel better.”

Chewing at your bottom lip, you felt the telltale prickle in your throat and tear ducts. Shying away from Frank’s intense gaze, you buried your face in his firm chest. “I can do it.”

“I know ya can, darlin’. You’re the strongest girl I know. I just don’t want ya to hurt yourself over some stupid shit like the dishes.” Cupping the back of your head, Frank held you close, shielding you from the world.

Clamping your teeth onto your lip to keep the tears welling in your eyes from falling, you didn’t respond. Frank’s jaw rubbed over your crown as he spoke again.

“Can’t feel good to be standin’ here, usin’ your hands, can it?” Lashes fluttering, you felt your cheeks grow damp as your emotions overwhelmed you.

“No.” You muttered, flexing your hands to lessen the throbbing of every joint within them.

“I ain’t gonna force ya to do anythin’, sweetheart. But these can wait until you’re feelin’ better.” Rocking you ever so slightly, Frank’s hands splayed over your back, rubbing gentle circles as he patiently waited for your decision.

“What about breakfast?” You pulled out of his embrace slightly to scrub at your face.

“I know I ain’t a genius, but I can cook a pan of bacon.” Frank chuckled, swiping a lingering tear from your chin.

“But you just got home,” You pouted, wrapping your arms around him again, nuzzling into his soft t-shirt.

“Exactly. I’m starvin’. Go sit down and I’ll make us some food.” With one final kiss to your forehead, Frank jerked a nod toward the living room. You didn’t protest when he withdrew his arms, stepping out of your embrace and towards the fridge, but you didn’t move either.

Raising an eyebrow at you, Frank cocked his head. “Did I say somethin’ wrong?”

Shaking your head fiercely, you dropped your gaze to your feet, bashfully shuffling in place. “No, just…”

“Just what, doll?”

You shrugged, insecurity churning within you. “You’re still in here.”

Smiling knowingly, Frank pulled the package of bacon and a carton of eggs from the ancient fridge, setting them next to the stove before holding up a finger. “Good point. Wait right there, sweetheart.”

Your eyes trailed after Frank as he paced towards your small dining room table. Lifting a single chair with ease, Frank carried it into the kitchen as if it was made of cardboard—setting it down to the right of the stove. “Better?”

Nodding sheepishly, you sank into the chair. “Thank you.”

Bending at the waist, Frank drew you into a kiss. “Always, sweet girl.”

Pulling your knees up onto the chair, you lay your chin atop them to watch Frank putter around the kitchen as he made breakfast. Though, this time, the smile on your face was genuine.

[theostrophywife]

kiss with a fist | chapter six.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: w.i.t.c.h. - devon cole

author's note: some cute soft fluff cause i'm in a tender mood.

In all your years at Hogwarts, you could count the amount of times you’ve attended a quidditch game on one hand and you wouldn't even need to utilize all of your fingers. Needless to say, you weren’t really into the rowdiness and belligerence of sporting events, but a bargain was a bargain. You were just glad to have Luna with you. Even if it meant enduring Pansy Parkinson’s presence. 

“Be nice,” Luna warned as you approached the stands. 

“I won’t bite if she doesn’t,” you murmured back. 

Luna nodded, knowing that it was the closest thing to an agreement she was ever going to get out of you. Despite your surliness, your friend seemed to brighten the minute she spotted Pansy. In a sea of blue and gold, the dark haired witch was the only one clad in green and silver. Your housemates kept exchanging wary glances at the Slytherin in their midst, but they were wise enough to keep their mouths shut. 

You watched quietly as Pansy and Luna exchanged pleasantries. While your friend was generally a bubbly person, she seemed extra giddy as she spoke. There was something about the way that she softened that convinced you to ease up on the scowls. It must have been contagious, because Pansy actually smiled and it wasn’t a derisive sneer or a smug smirk, but a genuine smile. You didn’t even know the witch was capable of it. 

Finally, she seemed to take stock of your presence. The dark haired girl jutted her chin out proudly, her aristocratic features schooled into forced neutrality. It occurred to you that Pansy probably received a similar warning to attempt decency. 

“Y/N,” she said. 

“Pansy,” you replied. 

The two of you eyed each other. Sizing up your opponent. The eagle versus the snake, claws against teeth. The staredown was purely psychological warfare. 

You squinted. Hurt her and I’ll maim you. 

The silent warning didn’t seem to offend Pansy. Instead, she gave a subtle nod of her chin and made way for you and Luna to sit. You settled in, trying not to peer down at the drop. Heights had never really been your thing. 

Pansy observed you curiously as Luna patted your arm. “Y/N’s not a big fan of heights.” 

“Oh?” Parkinson asked. 

“I generally prefer solid ground. It reduces the chances of me falling and breaking my neck.” The corner of Pansy’s mouth quirked. “What about you, Parkinson? Are you keen on flying?” 

“A bit.” 

Luna brightened. “She’s being modest. Pansy here is a very talented flyer. She’s got an Abraxan named Circe.”

“The most powerful witch to ever live,” you noted. “She used to turn men into swine.” 

“A lost art, really.” 

You smirked. “The classic femme fatale. A personification of the dangers of femininity. They always paint powerful women in a terrible light, don’t they?” 

“Perhaps it makes the men feel better about their own inadequacies.” 

“We’re always making men feel better about their inadequacies,” you answered thoughtfully. “Convenient that the myths fail to mention that Circe was one of the first pharmakis. Modern magic would not be what it is without her extensive knowledge of herbs and plants and yet she’s rarely credited in any potions books we read.”

Pansy nodded, eyeing you in amusement. “I can see why Nott has taken a liking to you.” 

You turned to Luna who immediately shook her head. Pansy laughed. “Don’t worry, Lovegood didn’t tell me a thing. She didn’t have to. Theodore never stops talking about you, you know.” 

There was no hiding the flush that crept up to your cheeks. “We’re both vying for the top spot in Slughorn’s class. I assume he has a lot to say about his competition.” 

“It’s more than that,” Pansy said. “I’ve known Theodore since birth and I’ve never seen him put this much effort into anything. He’s always been naturally talented at potions, given his mum’s background, but you challenge him. For the first time in a long time, he’s found someone who’s actually up to par. I, for one, enjoy watching you put him in his place.” 

You smiled. “I quite enjoy it too.” 

Luna looked at you, then at Pansy before a huge grin graced her lips. It was obvious that she was pleased at the sight of her best friend and her…potential more-than-friend getting along.

The game started not long after. Your comprehension of the rules were rudimentary at best, but Luna made sure to explain as best as she could. From what you gathered, there were four positions: seeker, beater, chaser, and keeper. The chasers attempted to score as many goals as they could by throwing the quaffle through the posts, which the keepers guarded. The beaters used the bludgers to disrupt the other players. The seeker, on the other hand, needed to catch the golden snitch. All while floating on a broom hundreds of feet in the air. 

This match, Pansy explained, had been anticipated to be the most brutal of the season. The enmity between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins translated very clearly on the field. While there had always been a divide of support between the other houses, you could tell that the majority of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stands were cheering for the Gryffindors. 

You wondered how that made the Slytherins feel. Three houses against one. After the war, Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic droned on and on about the importance of unity and reconciliation. Professor Slughorn even delivered a speech during your first potions class, but the disparity between words and actions were painfully obvious. 

The rest of the school still mistrusted the Slytherins. If any of them cared, you wouldn’t have been able to tell. Especially not as they played. The quidditch team was deadly. You watched as green and silver robes whizzed past, familiar names sprawled on the jerseys. Malfoy, Zabini, Riddle, Berkshire, Warrington, Rosier, and Nott. 

Theo winked as he flew past your portion of the stands. You rolled your eyes, but held your breath as he careened towards one of the goal posts. Ron Weasley stood guard, squinting suspiciously at Theo. The flash of the quaffle was too fast for your eyes to follow, but it sliced the air all the same, slipping through an opening above Ron’s shoulder. The redhead cursed as Theo gave him a mocking bow. 

Pansy was the lone witch in your section to cheer for the Slytherins. Luna joined her in solidarity when the crowd grew quiet. Suspicious glances were cast in your direction, which you rebuffed with a menacing glare. They all found something else to look at rather quickly. 

Displeasure rippled over the crowd as the Slytherins kept scoring. Theo was an unstoppable force. Warrington and Riddle flanked him at each side, throwing bludgers at anyone who attempted to thwart his efforts. The other two chasers, Berkshire and Zabini, circled around them in an aerial formation that confused the opposing team. The Gryffindors grew increasingly frustrated when Evangeline Rosier kept rebuffing their attempts to score. 

Both teams played well, but the Slytherins were ruthless, tactical, and efficient. They used the opposing team’s weaknesses against them. The Gryffindors tended to be over reactive and Theo used it to his advantage. He baited them into making rash plays, which left openings for him and the other chasers to exploit. 

By the end of the game, it was Berkshire who scored the winning goal. The discrepancy between the cheers and booing was insurmountable, but Pansy didn’t seem to care. She cheered for the team louder than anyone. As the win was formally announced, you heard murmurs coming from below you. 

“Stupid Death Eater bitch.” 

From the corner of your eye, you saw Pansy tense. Luna’s mouth hung agape as she wheeled around to identify the foul mouthed culprit. You were quicker. 

“What did you just say?” you asked in a deathly quiet voice.

The conversations around you stopped as you faced Romilda Vane. The smug faced witch crossed her arms, her scarlet and gold scarf billowing in the wind as she looked up at the three of you. 

“You heard me,” Romilda said in a haughty voice. “Her father was one of the Dark Lord’s staunchest supporters. As were the Malfoys and Notts. Not to mention Riddle. How he was allowed back at school is a mystery to me. They should all be in Azkaban.” 

Your ears began to ring. The crowd parted as you descended the bleachers, bringing you face to face with Romilda. “I wasn’t aware that you’d recently earned a place in the Wizengamot. For all your prattling, you’d think you were the Chief Warlock.” 

She cowered under your glare, but doubled down as she looked towards her friends. “I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking. As far as I’m concerned, the Slytherins should be punished for their crimes.” 

“I hardly think you’re speaking from any moral high ground, Romilda. Didn’t you try to dose Potter with Amortentia in sixth year?”

Romilda reddened as she sputtered nonsense. The students around you snickered, but all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears. You clenched your fists so tightly that your nails dug painfully into your palms. If you hadn’t, you might’ve punched that stupid smirk right off of her face. 

But you knew that physical violence was not the answer. There were far more strategic ways to land a blow and you were an expert in this type of warfare. 

“I suppose Harry’s lucky that your potion making is about as incompetent as your critical thinking skills. Now move before I make you.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing getting tangled up with all those snakes. They’ll sink their teeth into your back the second you turn it.” 

“One of them is worth ten of you. At least the Slytherins fought to defend the castle instead of running off like a coward. They may have teeth, but at least they know how to use them. You’re all roar and no bite.” 

“You’re a bitch, Y/N.” 

You reared back, baring your teeth. “Oh you have no idea, Vane. But I’d be glad to demonstrate.” 

Romilda held her ground. For a split second, you weighed the consequences of harming a fellow student versus the satisfaction of pummeling Romilda to the ground. Luckily for the idiotic Gryffindor, Luna gently gripped you by the elbow. 

“It’s not worth it, Y/N.” 

You looked at your friend who wore an expression of concern. Beside her, Pansy didn’t say a word. She was utterly silent, almost resigned like she encountered this treatment on a daily basis. We all pay the price, Theo had said. 

Without another word, you nodded and bulldozed through Romilda as you exited the stands. It was only when the three of you reached the ground when you finally realized that you were shaking from anger. 

“Are you alright, Pans?” Luna asked, clasping Parkinson’s hand. 

Pansy shrugged. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, Luna. If I let the opinion of an airheaded twat affect my day, I’d never have a good one again.” 

“Are you sure—” Luna fretted. 

Pansy smiled gently and squeezed her hand in assurance. “Truly, I’m alright. The only thing upsetting me at the moment is that I’ve left my scarf up there running from those hags. Would you mind getting it for me, Lu?” 

Your friend still looked worried, but she nodded and made the trek back up. You and Pansy stood in silence, watching as the last of the crowd trickled out of the stands. 

“Vane had no right to say that,” you said. It came out harsher than you expected. 

“At least she had the gall to say it to my face,” Parkinson stated with a shrug. “I don’t know if that makes her brave or stupid.” 

“Gryffindors often have trouble making the distinction.” 

The dark haired witch laughed. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. As moronic as she is, Vane is right. She was only voicing the opinion of the masses."

“But you fought in the final battle. I saw you rallying the others against the Death Eaters. Romilda wasn’t even there. She didn’t even fight.”

Pansy sighed. “A lot of good that did. I had to watch my friends duel against their own parents and yet this entire school still mistrusts us. I suppose I can’t blame them. The majority of the Dark Lord’s followers were produced by our house.”

“Not all Slytherins are bad. The world isn’t so black and white,” you said adamantly. “Most of us operate in the gray areas, whether we admit it or not. The only difference is that you lot don’t try to hide it.” 

“Yes, but a snake is a snake. Even when we shed our skin, they still see deception when they look at us.” 

“And you’re willing to just accept that?” 

Parkinson gave you a pointed look. What choice did she have? What choice did any of them have? 

After a beat of silence, you cleared your throat. “Are you sure you’re alright? Luna’s worried.” 

“I assure you, being villainized isn’t anything new to me. I suppose that’s why I named my horse after Circe," Pansy mused thoughtfully. "It’s better for them to believe that I’m some sort of evil sorceress than to realize that I am more shackled by my circumstances than I could ever be at Azkaban. My family name is a collar around my neck, waiting to choke me at any moment, but they’re so blinded by their own misconceptions that all they see are my teeth. I prefer it that way.”

“Oderint dum metuant.”

"Let them hate, as long as they fear." A faint smile bloomed on Pansy’s lips. "That’s awfully Slytherin of you to say. Are you sure you’re in the right house, Y/N?”

You chuckled. A beat of silence followed as understanding passed between you. Perhaps you had more in common with Pansy Parkinson than you thought. 

When Luna returned, the two of them tried to convince you to join them at the common room party, but you declined. You weren’t really in the mood to be around people. 

“You two go ahead. I’ll catch up later.” 

As the sun set over the school grounds, you found yourself at the Black Lake. Dusk tinged the horizon with pink and purple and the fluffy white clouds hung low enough to kiss the dark water. You settled at the end of the dock and dipped your toes into the lake, watching as the motion made ripples across the surface. Maybe it was unwise to linger here given that the lake was home to the merpeople and the giant squid, but they would be far in the depths and you were honestly too knackered to care. 

Sighing, you pulled out a silver flask from your robes. You had initially brought it for the after party, but it would’ve been a shame to let the firewhisky go to waste. 

“Illegal contraband?” A familiar voice teased just as the wood gave way beside you. Theo bumped his shoulder against yours as he sat. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well maybe your idiotic tendencies are rubbing off on me.” 

“I’d like to rub more than just my tendencies on you.” 

You rolled your eyes and handed him the flask. “Just fucking drink, Theodore.” 

He grinned before taking a swig. You chuckled at the face he made from the burn of the Ogden’s. “That is straight up liquor," Theo remarked through his coughing fit. "You're out of control, diavolina. Should I be concerned?”

“We’re celebrating,” you said. “At least you should be. That was quite a win out there. I didn’t expect you to be so….efficient.” 

“Careful, Y/N. That was almost a compliment.” 

You shrugged. “To be fair, I haven’t been to a game in years. You could’ve been absolutely rubbish and I’d still think it was a feat that you managed to stay seated on that broom.” 

“Well, it is a pretty important component of quidditch. Did you at least attempt to enjoy yourself?” 

“It was a brutal game. There’s a lot more strategy and planning that goes into quidditch than I initially thought. It’s like chess, but you’re allowed to hit people. I had a blast.” 

Theo chuckled. “I should’ve known you’d get a kick out of all that violence.” 

Warmth spread through your body as you took another swig. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating your win at the party?” 

His fingers brushed yours as you handed the flask back to him. “I’m where I want to be.” 

This time, you weren’t sure if it was the firewhisky or Theo’s presence making you flush. The two of you kept drinking in silence as you peered up at the sky. Back home in London, you never would’ve been able to see the stars this clearly. They glittered in the night sky like tiny diamonds etched through the darkness. 

“I heard about what happened earlier,” Theo said after a moment. 

You weren’t surprised. Word traveled fast around this school. “Luna told you?” 

“No. Pansy did.” He shifted, turning over to look at you. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you did too. “You did a good thing, Y/N. You stood up for Pansy. I can’t thank you enough.” 

“I was only doing what anyone else would’ve done.” 

“No. You weren’t.” Theo set the flask down. “No one else would’ve come to her defense. Pansy, she’s the strongest one out of all of us. Draco, Mattheo, and I, we can always resort to punches when we’re insulted, but Pansy doesn’t have that option. She just has to sit there and take it. It means a lot that someone spoke up for her.”

“I did the bare minimum.”

“It still meant a lot.” 

“There’s no need to thank me for—”

Theo sighed in exasperation. “For Salazar’s sake, will you just take my gratitude without arguing?”

You bit back a smile. “Fine. I acknowledge your gratitude.” 

You downed the rest of the flask as Theo lit a cigarette. The flame from that curious Zippo flickered in the darkness as smoke filled the air.

“So,” Theo started, taking a deep inhale. “Are you ready for the slug club dinner next week? I’m not even invited to the bloody thing and yet I still know every detail thanks to McLaggen’s incessant prattling. What a twat.” 

“Cormac is kind of a twat, isn’t he?” you asked, giggling as the alcohol started taking its effect. “I heard that he kisses like a fork tongued lizard.” 

Theo’s eyes flashed. “You better not know that firsthand.” 

You wrinkled your nose. “I wouldn’t go near McLaggen’s mouth with a ten foot broom.” 

“Good. I can rest easy that you won’t be replacing me with a reptilian snogger.”

“You can rest easy either way. I’m not going to that dinner.” 

Theo paused, the cigarette hanging haphazardly from between his lips. “What do you mean you’re not going?” 

“It’s a pretty straightforward sentence, Nott. I will not be attending Professor Slughorn’s ridiculous dinner.” 

“You have to go,” he declared firmly. 

“I’m confused. Do you want me to snog the lizard or not?” 

Theo frowned. “Do not snog McLaggen unless you want me to turn him into an actual reptile.” He exhaled and smoke curled around his lips. “You can’t miss that dinner.”

“I have no interest in attending.” 

He stared at you, his gaze fixed with determination. “Is this about what Slughorn said the other day?” 

You picked at your fingers, avoiding his eyes. “It’s probably going to be boring, anyways. Just a pissing contest for us to compare our grades and achievements like we’re puppets on a string.” 

“You should still go.” 

“Why?” you asked, a bit irritated that Theo was pushing for this so hard. You would’ve thought that he of all people would understand your choice. “Why would I subject myself to be part of something that judges people based on prejudice rather than merit?”

Theo’s expression softened. “Because it’ll raise your chances of joining the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. That’s your dream, isn’t it?”

You reeled back in surprise. “How do you know about that?” 

He rolled his eyes. “You only talk about it a thousand times a day.” Theo raised his brow in challenge. “Slughorn’s one of the most influential members. If you go to the dinner, it might solidify a formal invitation.” 

Theo was right. You didn’t want him to be, but he was right. Under any other circumstance, you would’ve sabotaged and plotted and schemed for a way in. This was an opportunity to distinguish yourself from your fellow classmates, so why were you hesitating?

You knew why. You were looking right at him.

“I’ll drag you there myself if I have to,” Theo declared. 

You sighed. There was no way he was going to let this go. “Fine, I’ll think about it.” 

Theo smiled triumphantly. You kicked at the water, sending a wave across the still lake. “You know, if Slughorn knew that you were a Marchesi, he’d probably fall all over himself to recruit you. Hell, anyone would. You’re practically guaranteed a place at the Society, too.”

Theo shrugged nonchalantly. “Where would the fun be in that?” 

“I’m serious, Nott. It could open up doors for you.”

He sighed. “That’s exactly why I’ve kept the knowledge to myself. I’m tired of everyone judging me based on my family, good or bad. I want to accomplish something that’s solely mine. Not Nott, not Marchesi. Just Theo.”

“That’s uncharacteristically noble of you.”

“I told you, I’m not just a pretty face. I’m also rich, witty, intelligent, athletic, etc. Honestly, the list goes on and on.”

You snorted. “Just don’t expect humble to be part of that little myriad, Theo.”

Theo paused. The moment of silence swelled between you like an errant wave. Then, a huge smile broke out on his face. 

“What?” you asked. 

“You called me Theo.”

“Well, that is your name. Has quidditch concussed you so severely that you’ve forgotten?

He responded with an eye roll. “I’m perfectly lucid, thank you very much. Well, besides the firewhisky. I’m a little bit sloshed from that, but not sloshed enough to not notice you call me by my actual name. Not Theodore, not Nott, not twat, not oh god—”

“I get it, Theo.”

His grin grew wider. “There it is again. Theo.”

“It’s just a name, nothing special.”

“It is when you’re the one saying it.” 

“Oh, shut up.”

The satisfied smirk on his face refused to budge even as the sky grew darker. The two of you sprawled out on the dock, staring up at the sky and enjoying the comfortable silence. Theo toyed with his lighter, rubbing his thumb over the spark wheel, which caused the flame to flicker on and off.

You stared at the lighter, vision blurring from the alcohol. “Why do you have that thing?”

“I told you, Mattheo’s a little thief.” 

“No, I mean I know the reason. But I just can’t figure out why.” 

Theo scrunched his brows in confusion. “Are you sure you’re not the one concussed?” 

“Would a concussed person be able to do this?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows and slightly flipped to the side. The action made your hair come loose. 

“What in Merlin’s name am I supposed to be looking at right now?” 

“I’m obviously doing a cartwheel,” you deadpanned. “Aren’t I?” 

Theo chuckled. “You are one drunk witch, Y/N.” 

“M’not drunk.” He raised a brow. “Fine, maybe I’m a tiny bit bevved, but you’re the one avoiding my question.”

“Sorry,” Theo said rather unapologetically. “I’m a bit distracted at the moment.” 

“By what?” 

“Your hair,” he murmured softly. Theo reached out and toyed with a loose strand, twisting a long lock between his fingers. He swallowed thickly, his voice lower and huskier than it was a minute ago. “You should wear it down more often.” 

“It’s a hassle.” 

He swept it over your shoulder, knuckles brushing your cheek. “It’s beautiful.” 

Your cheeks warmed. Whether from the alcohol or his touch, you couldn’t differentiate. “Stop deflecting, Nott.” 

Theo rolled his eyes. “Relentless witch. Can’t you see I’m trying to have a moment here?” 

You gave him a pointed look. Theo sighed before handing over his lighter. Up close, you could see that the silver was worn and dented. It looked much older than you initially thought. To your surprise, Theo silently waved his wand and the lighter transformed into a heart shaped locket. 

“When my nonna gave me the grimoire, it came with this. It was Alessandra’s old locket. She treasured it more than the grimoire itself.” 

“What’s so special about it?” 

“Open it.” 

Your fingers stilled. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t get shy now, diavolina. You wanted to know and now I’m telling you.” 

You hesitated for a moment before curiosity got the best of you. The locket popped open easily. Inside was a picture of a dark haired woman standing next to a man with watercolor eyes and thick brown curls. The couple looked at each other with love and adoration in their eyes. 

“That’s Alessandra, obviously. The man was Damiano, her closest friend, the mad scientist of the village, and the cleverest muggle she’d ever met. He helped author the grimoire.” 

“I never knew that Alessandra had help with her inventions.” 

Theo nodded. “As my family intended. They didn’t approve of her relationship with Damiano, but she didn’t care. They fell madly in love and eventually married.” 

“How is it possible that no one knew about him?”

“Damiano was born with a unique illness that was incurable even with magic. Alessandra poured years of her life into finding a cure, but in the end he succumbed to it. She passed away only a year after him. My nonna said that she died of a broken heart.” Theo took the chain and traced his fingers over the picture. “They left behind two young children who were eventually raised by Alessandra’s parents. Their son and daughter grew up not knowing who their father was. The Marchesis did everything in their power to keep the knowledge to themselves. They didn’t want anyone to know that their great bloodline was tainted by a muggle.” 

Theo bowed his head in shame. He avoided your gaze, choosing to look out at the Black Lake instead. “There it is. The secret that my family has guarded for centuries. The sad part is that some of them still hold those bigoted beliefs, so when people assume the worst of me, I can’t blame them. The Marchesis, the Notts, either way you look at it, there’s bad blood coursing through my veins.” 

“That’s not true, Theo,” you said softly. “You know I don’t think that of you, right?” 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Everyone else does.” 

“Well, I don’t,” you said firmly. “You said it earlier. Family isn’t all that a person amounts to. When I look at you, I don’t see a Nott or a Marchesi. I just see Theo.” 

“I don’t deserve that,” he whispered. The saddest part was that you were sure he meant it. “My great great great grandmother fell in love with a muggle and how did my family repay her for it? They blotted him out of existence.” 

The starlight caressed his forlorn expression with its silver glow, painting a heartbreaking depiction of Theo that you had never seen before. It reminded you of that day in the potions lab when he was talking about his mother. There was such an openness and vulnerability in him then that was present now as well and you realized why he looked at you the way he did that day. 

Theo hadn’t been waiting for you to give him an out. He wanted—no, he needed a friend and you had been too scared to step up then, but you weren’t now. You could be that for him. You wanted to be that for him. A friend. 

Without second guessing yourself, you reached out in the space between you and grabbed hold of his hand. Theo stared at your intertwined fingers in surprise. 

“The love between Damiano and Alessandra lives on,” you said with a small smile. “In their children and their children’s children. In…you.” 

Those watercolor eyes, the very same ones that you had grown so familiar with shone with emotion. Unlike the day in the lab, Theo didn’t put up his mask of cockiness and arrogance and you realized with a start that you didn’t want him to. 

He smiled and squeezed your hand gently. “Yes, I suppose I inherited Damiano’s affinity for cruel, brilliant witches.”

"Affinity is putting it lightly," you said teasingly. "Admit it. You're obsessed with me, Nott."

You blinked as Theo hovered over you. The weight of his body pressed against yours ignited a flame of fiendfyre in your core. He dipped his head down, his curls tickling your nose. "No, not Nott. Not Theodore. Try that again, diavolina."

You wriggled underneath him, but Theo held your hips in place. He brushed his lips against yours and smirked when you tried to kiss him. His low rumble of laughter sent shivers down your spine. "Say it. Say my name again."

"If I say it, will you stop being a tease?"

Theo kissed your neck and laughed when you pouted in response. "Only one way to find out."

"I'll knee you in the crotch if you do that again, Theo."

He grinned. "There's a good girl," Theo said rather suggestively. You fought the urge to squirm at his words. He peppered kisses along your neck, your jaw, and your cheeks while you burst into a fit of drunken giggles. "For the record, I am obsessed with you, but I think you're a little bit obsessed with me too."

"You wish, Theo."

"You're going to be the death of me," he said huskily as he unbuttoned your cardigan. Theo's eyes were full of mischief as he dipped between your breasts, sucking on your flesh and leaving marks in his wake. "But I'm willing to die a happy man, Y/N."

Taglist: @annaisabookworm@marina468@yaraasthings @the0doreslover@bubybubsters@moony-artemis @natasha887@lucyysthings@criesinlies @bunnymallowo@niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl@wordsarelife@clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar @mishtay @cherry-hoe  @littlebookbengal @maybefoxysouls @nomup  @aliensknowmyillusions @cinderellawithashoe @starsval @kalulakunundrum @lucyysthings @siriuslysmoking @purplegirls-posts @unstablereader @lqclercs @whatsupb18 @rikirritated @psychedeliccc @jetblackpayne @clairesjointshurt @ama1a2 @omwtkydttfym @cinderellawithashoe @xeqr @txzii @goldenmagnolias @ilikefictionalmen @xxpeachyxo @dirt-cup-draco @willowecho25518 @shulipp @pompeygirl89 @lame-ferrum @dustbunniess @justdizzie @sopsopsopy

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[milliesfishes]

Billy comforting you when you’ve had the worst day and just break down in his arms and life just feels too much

writing this to be self indulgent rn because I'm beyond rn

౨ৎ꣑ৎbilly when you've had a bad day౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

The door opened, and his boots clunked on the floor as he walked in, but you didn't stir, lying sideways on the floor by your bed. Your eyes were closed. You didn't feel like moving, simply letting everything pass you by. There was a sad part of you that didn't want to throw away any day, but a worse part that wanted it to be over. Today had been a wreck.

"Honey?" Billy's voice barely pierced your senses, and you opened your eyes lazily. "I'm home!"

On a normal day, you would have gone to greet him, folded your arms around his neck and told him how happy you were to see him. Not that you weren't now. His presence settled a smidge of relief on your shoulders.

"Where are you?" Billy was close to the bedroom now, and you heard him open the door. Now he'd surely see you. "Hey-what are you doing? You okay?"

A gentle pair of hands found your sides, lifting you off the ground and leaning you against something warm and solid. You leaned your cheek against him- an instant response. Billy kissed your forehead, clasping you close as he pulled you to sit over his thigh. "What happened, baby?"

Your lower lip began to tremble, but you tried to stop it. "I fell."

"Fell?" You didn't have to look to know his brow was creasing. "'n you couldn't get up?"

"Bad day," you whispered, still trying to keep it together.

"Oh, sweetheart." Billy adjusted you, his hand splaying over your tummy. "I'm sorry." His voice was gentle, and you felt tears stubbornly prick at your eyelids. Not wanting to cry, you pushed your face into his chest, a sniffle betraying you. Fingers hooking on one of his shirt buttons, you hung on for dear life.

"C'mere, baby. Let's come up here." Billy managed to maneuver you onto the bed, and as soon as he joined you, you were snuggling back into his chest. Ignoring the dirt on his clothes from riding, you took in a deep breath. He still smelled like him. Like your Billy.

The familiarity of it all broke down your walls. Tears started coming and they wouldn't stop, soaking Billy's shirt as your breaths stuttered. He moved his hand to your crown, holding you there and using his other to keep you pressed to his side. "Shh, shh. I've got you. I'm here." You nodded, a little sob escaping. Billy didn't miss a beat, pressing his lips to your hair. "I know, I know." Beginning to stroke her back, he murmured, "What happened, my love?"

Still sniffling, you started to speak, your words hitching here and there. "I w-woke up later than I wanted to and-d I barely got anything done and there's still wash to do and I fell and s-so there wasn't any time to really ma-ake dinner and then I fell again."

He was quiet all through your explanation, but when you finished, his arms wound around you. It was like he was building a shell around you, something unbreakable by whatever else the day could possibly throw at you.

"Oh, sunshine," Billy whispered, turning sideways to hold you better. You hid your face in his chest, his scent completely enveloping you. Horses, worn leather, the faintest whiff of gunpowder. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. That must've been so hard."

"I missed you," you mumbled, and he held his lips to your forehead.

"I missed you too." Billy pressed a few fast kisses to your hair. "My girl...it's gonna be all better, okay? We're gonna make it all better."

He was speaking so sweetly that you believed him. Billy lifted you up under your arms, sitting you in front of him. You sniffled, lifting your hand to brush away any other tears. "Better?"

"Yeah," he promised softly, looking into your eyes and cupping your cheek. "You wanna get into something more comfy?"

Your lips lifted just a little bit when you realized what he meant. He took that as a yes, standing up and retrieving a clean shirt of his from the drawer. He unbuttoned your dress carefully, pulling it over your head. The feeling of the well-worn fabric on your skin only further served to help you relax. Billy took one of the blankets from the foot of your bed and dragged it over your shoulders. "I brought some strawberries from town. That sound good?"

Nodding, you pulled the blanket edges around yourself as he trailed into the kitchen. Your heart nearly felt warm with how sweet he was being. Billy's job was rough, and he endured far more hardship in a day than you could imagine. And still he never once made you feel bad if you had a rough day.

"Here you are," he smiled, setting a bowl of sliced strawberries in your hands. Billy sat behind you, pulling you to sit between his legs. While you ate he was quiet, keeping a hand over your midsection and letting you lean back into his chest.

When your fork scraped the bottom of the bowl, Billy took it out of your hands, setting it on the nightstand. "Better?"

You smiled, happily cozied up in his arms. He began to rock you back and forth, and a little giggle escaped you. "Better. I love you."

"I love you too, sunshine." Billy kissed your hair. "You're a sweetheart, y'know? You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

It only made your smile grow, and you snuggled into his chest. "Billy."

"There's my girl." He was still rocking you, cheek against your hair. "We're gonna get some sleep, okay baby? It's gonna be all better in the morning."

"Yeah." You were already drifting off. He pulled the blanket over your legs, swaying gently back and forth. "Sleep."

Your eyes were closed, so you couldn't see him smiling, but you knew he was.

[margeoww]

Winter Steps

back to my main masterlist

pairing: toto wolff x fem!reader

summary: On a snowy Christmas Eve, Toto takes his long-time partner on a walk to a secluded frozen lake, surprising her with a heartfelt gift and a moment that solidifies their bond.

warnings: fluff, heartwarming moments outdoors

The snow fell softly, blanketing the trees and ground in a shimmering layer of white. Toto’s hand was warm in yours, even through your gloves, as you both walked through the narrow trail. Each step crunched lightly against the snow, the sound muffled by the serene silence of the forest.

—You’re sure this is the right way? —you asked, raising an eyebrow as you glanced at him. His long strides forced you to take two steps for every one of his, but he kept his pace slow to match yours.

—Of course —he replied, glancing down at you with a smirk. —You doubt my navigation skills?

—I don’t doubt your navigation skills —you teased. —I doubt your sense of direction when you’re trying to impress me.

He laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet forest. —I think you’ll forgive me when you see what’s ahead.

The trail opened into a clearing, revealing a frozen lake surrounded by towering evergreens. The surface of the lake glistened in the fading light, and the entire scene looked like something pulled from a snow globe. A small wooden bench sat near the edge of the lake, dusted lightly with snow.

You stopped in your tracks, your breath catching at the sight. —Toto, this is beautiful.

—I thought you’d like it. —he said, his deep voice soft. He brushed the snow off the bench with his gloved hand and motioned for you to sit. —Come, it’s even better up close.

You sat down, the cold wood biting through your coat, but you didn’t care. The view was breathtaking. Toto sat beside you, his presence solid and comforting as he slipped an arm around your shoulders.

—How do you even find places like this? —you asked, leaning into him.

He tilted his head back, looking at the trees with a thoughtful expression. —During my runs. I discovered it last year and thought it would be a nice place to bring you.

—You found this on a run? —you laughed. —That doesn’t surprise me.

—Nothing gets past you. —he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.

You stayed there for a while, watching the light change as the sun began to set. The sky shifted from pale blue to soft pinks and oranges, the colors reflecting off the icy surface of the lake.

—Do you ever stop? —you asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

—Stop what?

—Being so thoughtful. —you said, turning to look at him. —It’s like you have this endless ability to surprise me.

He smiled, his dark eyes warm as he studied your face. —You deserve it. And more.

Before you could respond, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. Your eyes widened as he held it out to you.

—Toto…

—Open it. —he said, his voice unusually soft.

With trembling fingers, you opened the box to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a snowflake pendant. Tiny diamonds sparkled in the dim light, each facet catching the glow of the sunset.

—It’s beautiful —you whispered, tears pricking your eyes.

—I thought it suited you. —he said, taking the necklace from the box. —Strong, unique, and breathtaking. Just like you.

You turned around, brushing your hair aside as he fastened the necklace around your neck. His hands were steady, but his touch was impossibly gentle.

When you faced him again, his expression was unreadable, a mix of tenderness and something deeper. —Perfect. —he murmured.

—You mean the necklace? —you asked with a smirk, trying to lighten the moment.

—No. —he said, his tone serious. —You.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Then he leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against yours.

—You’re everything to me. —he said softly.

The intensity of his words left you speechless, and you could only nod, your hands gripping his coat. —Toto…

He pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, filled with the depth of his feelings. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours again, a small smile playing on his lips.

The moment felt infinite, the two of you wrapped in the stillness of the snow-covered world.

—Come on. —he said eventually, standing and offering you his hand. —I want to show you something else.

You took his hand, and he led you along the edge of the lake to a small clearing where the trees formed a natural arch. In the center was a lantern, its golden light flickering warmly against the snow.

—What’s this? —you asked, your eyes widening.

—Just another surprise. —he said, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

The two of you stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the lantern, as the snow continued to fall. It felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you, and in that moment, you knew you’d never forget this day.

Hi!!!!! I wanted to remind you how grateful I am to you and the support you give me. Also to wish you a Merry Christmas ❤️‼️

[blckbrrybasket]

27. “Happy Birthday, Baby”

Walter ‘keys’ McKeys x Fem!Reader

꒰Lingerie + On The Counter꒱ - 1.1k

• oral (f receiving), fluff

kinktober m.list

What better birthday gift was there than getting your boyfriend something you knew he loved. Really, you bought him another gift, having saved up for awhile to buy him a PC. Before he opened that gift though, you had a surprise for him.

Sitting on the counter in your shared kitchen, you waited for Keys to come back from work. You knew how high strung he got after working all day and wanted to give him his surprise as soon as he got home. Your bare legs swished from side to side, hanging off the side of the counter.

The familiar sound of Keys unlocking the door and coming in alerted you to his presence. He always made little thumping noises when he entered the apartment; putting his shoulder to the door, trying to push it open as he carried his stuff in, and ultimately when he placed all of his things on the ground.

It was so him. You had to try not to giggle when he called out your name, walking to the bedroom. His confusion was discernible when he walked back out, repeating your name. “Babe, where are,” Keys was cut off when he saw you, his eyes lighting up. He took a step forward before pausing when his eyes widened, registering that you were half naked in lingerie atop the counter.

“What’s…” Keys laughed breathlessly as he walked up to you. “What’s all this?” Your arms slipped around his shoulders as you leaned down, kissing his lips. “Happy birthday, baby,” You murmured against his lips as he sighed contently. Pulling back, he looked you up and down. “God, you’re beautiful.”

You giggled, cheeks darkening under his watchful gaze. Keys was always so eager for you, any piece of you and this was no different. His hands fell to the tops of your thighs, drinking in your image. “I’m so lucky. I’m the luckiest guy ever.” You chuckle, laughter mixing with his when he bumps your noses together. “You’re being so sappy, enjoy your birthday gift.”

“Oh, I am,” He counters, lips pressing to the corner of your mouth. Keys slender fingers slide down the junction of your thigh and hip to rest on top of your mound. He doesn’t move them, just resting the tips of them over the lace of the basque set. “Keysss,” you drug out the syllables of his nickname as he smiled at you.

“I thought I was supposed to enjoy my gift? That’s what I’m doing.” When your thighs squeeze together for relief his smile turns into a smirk. Silently, he begins to rub slow circles over your cunt and sliding down under your covered pussy entirely. Your slick has collected on the solid strip of material that covered your cunt, soaking into it.

Keys fingers bend up ever so slightly to easily move in slow circles back and forth. It isn’t long before he can feel your underwear molding to the shape of your soaked cunt. Keys continues playing with you until he can pinch the fabric and feel your slick seep out into his fingers, which is exactly what he does.

He watches the darkened fabric give way under his fingertips, arousal wetting his fingers through the cloth. Keys ignores your squirming, fingers tucking under the hem, pulling it to the side. He smoothed it down, making sure it would stay to the side and not obstruct his way to you. 

Glancing up at you, Keys bent down, hands moving under your thighs to tug you to the edge of the counter. He laughed gently at your squeak, smiling wider when you grabbed his shoulders for support. You lightly smacked the top of his back in retaliation. He doesn’t mind, his eyes on the prize.

Keys moved closer, nose pressing to your clit making you sigh. He licked his lips, wetting them before he kissed your pussy. His lips were soft against you, slowly moving as if he was making out with your cunt. Technically, you assumed he was. It wasn’t much longer until Keys mouth was suctioned to your leaking cunt. 

Your folds were puffy and spit soaked, blood rushing to your pussy from the arousal. His normally soft eyes were closed in concentration while he mouthed over your entrance. Keys stuck his flattened tongue out, lapping up the essence spilling from you.

It was musky and heady, but to him you couldn’t be any sweeter. Hands grappled at your shaking thighs to keep them open, not wanting to be cut off from you for one second. His thumbs dug farther into the skin when he raised his head. “Been thinking about you all day.” 

It was whiny, needy in his own way. His need was yours though, wanting you to come first always before you were able to please him. You being one of his birthday gifts was no different. Keys breath fanned over your pussy making you clench around air, whining pitifully. He groaned at the action and lowered himself again, brown eyes peeking over your mound.

Keys leaned in and relaxed his mouth, kissing your pussy again while drawing his tongue out to trace figure eights over you. He continued to pull moans out of you, grinding his hips into the cabinets below to get some relief. It was sloppy on both parts, the flat wood making it harder to grind against, but any relief would help. 

His cock throbbed beneath his jeans and he was sure he was going to come in his pants from this alone. The taste of your pussy made any worry fall away as he wrapped his lips around your clit. You were so wet from his spit and your arousal, soaking his chin before you had even come.

Yet, it was no bother to him. He could die happily like this, but not before you came. Keys groaned against you, the vibrations pressing into your cunt as you whined, legs partially lifting. “Oh shit!” You choked out, his lips around your bundle of nerves sucking harder.

The dam broke with your loud whine, your cunt gushing over his tongue. The moment your cum touched his mouth, Keys moaned and greedily lapped it up. His hips sped up, humping into the counter, Keys nose dragging along your sensitive clit.

Your mewls grew in pitch as he kept going even after you finished. Your hand fisted at his head, fingers digging into his hair to pull him back. Keys was panting heavily, gasping down air as the lower half of his face was utterly soaked, his glasses lopsided.

He gave you a dopey smile as you slumped against the counter. Dazed from coming so hard, you smiled back. “Also got you a PC,” you admitted, giggling when his mouth fell open in shock. “Happy birthday.” Keys stood up far too quickly, scooping you into his arms. “I fucking love you,” he muttered and pressed his lips to yours, speed walking to the bedroom.

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @adventures-of-impala, @dreamerjj

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Sleep - Poe Dameron

A/N: Hi! I wrote this in a sleep-deprived fugue at work, while trying not to fall asleep in my office. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Word Count: 1.5k Synopsis: Poe and the reader both work too hard, and need to catch up on their sleep. Fluff!

Poe stretches the moment his feet hit solid ground. For all his years of flying, he figures he'd be used to the cramped area, the long hours. He shakes the tension from his neck and shoulders.

The crew slowly makes the way to their own quarters, saying their goodbyes. Each of them is probably fantasizing about falling into bed, and he is no different. After the mission they'd had, Black Squadron had earned some respite.

BB-8 follows Poe to the chambers the two of you share. When he walks inside, the space is quiet, but there is a soft light coming from the bedroom. Once he makes sure BB-8 is loaded into his docking station, he pushes the bedroom door open with a sigh.

You are sitting at your desk, which comes as no surprise to him. Your brow is still furrowed in concentration when you look up at him.

"Poe," you say on a sigh, standing up to greet him. When you fall into his arms, you hold him tightly. He knows why he is squeezing you so tight, but the fact that you are doing the same worries him. It has been a few days since either of you spoke or sent messages.

"Hey baby," he says, pulling back so he can look you over, still holding you in his arms. "Everything alright?"

"Now that you're home, yes," you say, wrapping your arms around him again. You let out a breath in his hold.

"I missed you so much," he says into your hair.

"I missed y--" Your PADD chimes with a new message and you snap your head towards it.

"I'm sorry," you say, already moving back to your desk. "Work has been crazy this week."

"That's alright," he says, studying you, the exhaustion that weighs on your shoulders. Your attention is fully on the PADD, typing quickly. Poe sighs and sits down on the end of your bed.

"You sure everything's alright?" he asks again. You don't look up, just let out a small 'mhm.' He starts to take off his boots, still watching you carefully.

"You know, not once have I come home and found you in bed," he says. You keep typing for a whole minute before looking up at him.

"That can't be true," you say, watching as he comes back to your side, kissing your shoulder.

"It is," he says, looking down at you. There are bags underneath your eyes and according to the cups of coffee littered across your desk, you've been up for far too long.

"When was the last time you slept?" he asks.

"I don't know, maybe a day?" you say, making him sigh in disappointment. "You're one to talk. You were flying for at least two days."

"I know, and now I want to get into bed with my equally exhausted wife."

"Give me just another minute."

"You always say that," he says with an affectionate roll of his eyes. He leans down to kiss the top of your head. "I'm going to get in the shower, and seems like you could use one, too." You scoff at him, turning back to your work.

"Come with me," he says.

"I can't," you say, your attention drawn even then as your eyes flick between him and the screen.

"You better be off when I get out," he says.

"Promise," you say looking back at him with a strained smile.

He gets into the shower, adding your stress to his. The steaming water relaxes some of the tension in his muscles, but he wishes you were there with him.

When he turns the shower off, he sees the distinctive glow of your PADD in the gap along the bathroom door.

"Y/N," he says with a sigh, dripping back into the bedroom, a towel slung low on his waist.

"You shower too quick!" you say, looking up at him. You have the decency to appear guilty.

"Baby, I know you are always on a mission to save the galaxy, but the galaxy can wait until tomorrow. You cannot," he says, putting his hands on his hips.

"I'm fine, Poe."

He starts to say something, starts to argue with you, but the exhaustion of the day seems to be winning out. Before your name is even out of his mouth, he sighs and shakes his head.

"I've been fighting for the last two days, I'm not going to fight with you," he says, meeting your eyes as yours widen.

"Poe--"

"Just, promise me you'll get to sleep soon?" he asks, walking back into the bathroom. He changes into his sleep clothes quickly, and doesn't even blink when he sees you still typing away at your desk. The lights were off when he came in, so he doesn't have to do much to prepare for bed, save for climbing in.

The bed creaks familiarly as he lays down, the sheets cool to the touch, the way he knows you like. He is about to tell you how good it feels, as a last ditch effort to get you into bed, when he hears the click of your PADD turning off. He lifts his head just as you appear at his side.

"I'm sorry," you say, running a hand through his wet curls.

"You don't have to be sorry," he says, trying to sit up fully. You stop him, a hand to his chest.

"Rest," you say. "I'll be back in a few."

Poe lays down as you walk into the bathroom. The room is completely dark now that the PADD is turned off. The only light is the small strip coming through the bathroom door. He wants to keep his eyes open for you, but sleep pulls him in faster than he expects.

When you get out of the shower, the air is cool on your bare skin. You wrap a towel around yourself, stepping into your bedroom to quickly grab a pair of pajamas. Poe's steady breathing fills the quiet room, and you hate that you missed out on spending time with him once again.

The moment your pajamas are on, you slide into bed next to him. The sheets are cold, too, making you crawl closer to Poe's warm side. He hums as you wrap your arms around his center.

"Your hands are freezing," he says, his voice thick with sleep.

"Sorry," you say, pulling them back. Poe stops you before you can, placing your hands back around him. He rolls onto his side so you are both facing each other.

"I didn't say to stop," he says, giving you a small smile.

"I didn't mean to wake you," you whisper.

"I'm glad you did. I wanted to stay up for you, anyways," he says. You smile at him, suddenly feeling like you could cry. You lean in and kiss his lips softly.

"I missed you so much," you say.

"I missed you, too," he says, pulling you in closer. "Tell me the truth, is everything alright?"

"It's the same as always," you say with a shrug. "Just too many long nights."

"You need to take care of yourself, or you're not doing anyone any good," he says. With a hand to your cheek, he pulls you in for another kiss. You close your eyes on instinct, but the longer the kiss goes on for, the longer your eyes are closed, and soon you start to drift off to sleep.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Poe says with a laugh, breaking away. You whine, tugging on his shirt to bring him back to your lips.

"Come back here," you say, "I want to keep kissing you." He chuckles again but kisses you again.

"You're barely kissing me now," he says. He shakes his head and kisses the tip of your nose. He tucks you into his arms, and you really are moments from falling into a deep sleep. The sheets are cool and comfortable, and with his steady breathing and arms around you, it won't be long.

"You didn't tell me about your mission," you say sleepily.

"That's okay," he says, his voice groggy.

"Poe," you say, shaking him gently. He laughs, hugging an arm around you tighter.

"It doesn't matter," he says, "It's over now."

"It matters to me," you say. He sighs deeply, your head on his chest rising with the movement.

"I'm just glad to be home. Glad that I have a home to come back to, and glad that you are here and safe."

"Baby," you say softly, wrapping your arms around him tighter.

"I'm sorry, I--"

"You never have to be sorry for sharing things with me. I want to know them, want to know you. Especially the heavy stuff."

"I love you," he says, kissing the top of your head. "And your hair smells much better." You laugh softly, squeezing him.

"I love you."

"Goodnight, Y/N," he says. You wrap every part of your body that can touch him around Poe's body, settling into his warm embrace.

"Goodnight."

[eemcintyre]

Surprise very spicy one-shot! (Terry Silver)

TW- daddy kink, humiliation kink, dacryphilia kind of, slight size kink, coming inside.

Summary- Reader is embarrassed to ask Terry (CK era) if she can call him by a title that I think is obvious from the TW

I have no idea what to call this or what dark recess of my mind it came from, but here's a very random little treat for y'all that I hope you enjoy <3 (P.S. happy vacation @karatekels)

~

“There’s something you don’t want to tell me,” he realized. “I promise, whatever it is, I won’t be upset with you.”

“No. It’s not… It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it, it’s…” The tension in her shoulders dropped from frustration as her voice fell to a barely audible murmur. “I can’t talk about it. I can’t tell you.”

“Come here; sit down.” Terry patted one of his thighs, spreading his legs slightly, beckoning her into his lap.

She glanced timidly up from her shuffling feet to his lap and decided it was better not to keep testing him, as that never seemed to end well for anyone. As he positioned her to straddle and face him, slipping his arms around her waist and feeling her tentatively settle into the familiar, comforting position, he continued.

“You know you can tell me anything, babydoll.” Her back tensed up again and he ran a large hand up and down her spine. “You’ve got me curious now.”

“I can’t…” She tried to wrestle back out of his grip, but he just held her tighter, stroking one hand across her back more firmly and digging the nails of his other hand into her over her clothes as a warning.

“Why? Are you worried I’ll be mad, that I’ll laugh, what?” He smiled gently in an attempt to get her to lower her guard, but she recoiled as much as it was possible from his inquiring expression and touch.

“It’s embarrassing,” she whimpered.

Now Terry was sure- between how she was simultaneously unable to even look at him but also constantly fidgeting against his body, to the pink flush that climbed her neck and had her cheeks absolutely glowing- this was about something sexual.

No longer having to worry about whether something was seriously wrong, Terry’s more mischievous and cunning instincts awakened. He leaned in to begin pressing gentle kisses along her jaw, seeking to both reassure her and heighten the humiliated arousal she seemed to be feeling. Though she still refused to tear her gaze from the wall behind them, her posture stiffened, breaths now coming in short gasps.

“You know I’ll give you whatever you want- all you have to do is ask me.” She opened her mouth, but he corrected her before she could speak- “You have to look at me, baby.”

She tried to curl into herself, hiding her face in the spot connecting Terry's shoulder and neck and letting out a frustrated whine before he pulled her back into his view, gripping her chin to force her to face him. He gazed at her expectantly, not wanting to be too harsh and intimidate her back into her shell, but sternly enough to compel her to obey. Several long seconds of silence ensued.

She swallowed hard, taking one of his hands in hers and toying with it; the action was something solid and concrete to ground her racing heart and thoughts, tracing the veins and his long fingers. He would allow her as long as it took to collect herself, but she was going to tell him what was on her mind. When she finally spoke, he was surprised at how much she managed to steady her voice.

“I was just wondering if… Can I… Can I call you daddy?”

Terry froze, momentarily forgetting to breathe as his vision went hazy and blood rushed to below his belt. When he didn’t immediately respond, she wrenched her chin from his grip and hid her face in her hands.

“I told you, never mind! It’s stupid and weird; it’s disgusting…”

“It is disgusting,” he nodded, his voice hoarse. He slowly pulled her hands from her face, revealing tears glimmering at the corners of her eyes as she tried her hardest yet to struggle out of her spot on his lap. In a sudden move he then yanked her hips so that they were flush against him and squeezed her waist possessively. “I want you to say it again.”

Her jaw went slack, eyes wide with shock as she croaked out “…Daddy.”

“Now, tell me exactly what you want, because I’m aching to give it to you,” Terry groaned, placing one of her delicate hands over his pants and the shape of his hardening cock. She shuddered, this time from arousal rather than anxiety, forcing herself to maintain eye contact as he guided her hand up and down his shaft.

“Please take care of me, daddy,” she whimpered, the title still feeling foreign on her tongue, but not wrong. “I’m so wet for you.”

He felt the last of her stubborn will to fight and hide from him diminish as she started to lean into his touch, melting into the warmth of his large hand over hers and his growing erection beneath it.

“I bet you are,” he replied in a smug, condescending tone that made her feel small and even more embarrassed, if it were possible. “That’s a good girl; keep going.”

She stuttered her way through a few more of the specifics of what she craved; the twisted things she wanted him to do to her that were all the more so with his new title in the mix.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Terry crooned, “Daddy knows exactly what you need.”

With that, he effortlessly swept her into his arms, carrying her upstairs to the bedroom. Setting her on her unsteady feet, he undid every button and zipper with reverence, relishing the way she clung to him when her knees buckled.

Once she was bare for him, Terry pulled her back into his lap at the end of the bed, facing the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. It was nerve-wracking to be totally exposed to him while he remained clothed, especially as this image stared her inescapably in the face from the mirror. She clutched the arm he had looped around her stomach as he spread her legs open with his own and studied her hungrily.

“Just relax for me,” he cooed, stroking the inside of her thigh before running the pads of his fingers through her wetness. “Tell daddy how he makes you feel.”

She was already wet enough for him to work two fingers inside her and thrust at a slow but steady rhythm, feeling her fluttering walls suck him in. He looked up from his handiwork to the reflection of the mirror, admiring how his fingers stretched her. They could reach all the right spots inside her that her own fingers couldn’t.

“Hhhnnn, feels so good… ah! Oh…”

His rough fingers curled up and grazed that spongy spot inside of her that made her keen, bucking her hips against his hand. Her free hand shot out to grab his muscular thigh for support as she clenched uncontrollably around him.

“You take it so well for me,” he hummed, craning his neck to plant hot, wet kisses across the side of her face.

“You’re so deep.” She was already nearly sobbing as the obscene sounds of his fingers moving in and out intensified.

“Listen to how soaked you are. That’s all for me?” He took one of her hands in his and pressed a kiss to it, the tenderness of the gesture combined with his degrading commentary making her lightheaded.

“Yes!” she cried. The combination of humiliation and pleasure was getting so overwhelming that, in the interest of self-preservation, she shut her eyes and covered her mouth.

Terry wasn’t going to go for that. He wanted- and felt he deserved- every single look and sound he elicited; every gory detail. His reward for making her feel so good, even if it absolutely mortified her. In fact, that arguably made it all the sweeter. Prying her hand from her lips, he shook his head, sighing. “Oh, don’t get all shy on me again now. You love it when I humiliate you a little.”

She was unable to suppress a gasp at the pressure inside as he finally increased the pace of his fingers.

“Aaaahhh! God, fuck!”

He grinned. Knowing that she was getting close, he withdrew his hand from her pussy. She started to whine helplessly until he took her by surprise and flipped them both around. Now she was underneath him on her stomach, pressed to the bed, rendered speechless.

“That’s why you got all hot and bothered asking if you could call me daddy,” he remarked. They were still facing the direction of the mirror, and she eyed the reflection of him towering behind her from his knees on the mattress, undoing his pants. “That’s vile.”

After Terry divested himself of his clothing, he grabbed her roughly by the ankles, flipping her onto her back and caging her underneath him again. Then he lunged at her, sucking hickeys into her neck and collarbone, his thick cock prodding at her thigh, making her ache in anticipation. She dug her nails into his broad shoulders, drawing a guttural sound from his lips.

“Was your father not there for you when you needed him to be? Was he even around at all?” Terry growled, sounding both like he was trying to further humiliate her and like he was angry at the possibility of anyone having hurt her. Before she could choke out a coherent answer, he continued. “That’s okay. Now you have a man who will treat you the way you deserve,” Terry spat, finally sheathing his throbbing cock inside of her, to the hilt, all in one go. She wailed at the sudden, all-encompassing feeling of fullness. “Surround you with my love and fill you full of it until you can’t take any more.”

The innuendo was not lost on her and, as his balls smacked her ass with each thrust, the thought of him pumping her full of his come sent a fresh wave of heat through her. His powerful thrusts sent her bouncing against the surface of the bed. Each one was initially accompanied by a sharp twinge of pain, but it soon faded into the dull, perversely satisfying ache that she had become used to with him.

At this point, he had her folded nearly in half under him, white-knuckling her legs over his shoulders as he pounded her into the mattress. He would be the sole guiding, protecting and caretaking older male figure in her life from now on. Without interrupting his brutal movements, he bent to make out with her, sliding his tongue into her warm and unresistant mouth. At the simultaneous penetrating movements of his cock and his tongue, she melted in his grip, pussy gushing around him.

“You want me to give it to you?” he asked, breaking the embrace and leaving them both gasping.

“Please! I need you, please!” she pleaded, eyes starting to well up again from the complete and utter overstimulation of everything.

“And who am I to you?” Terry persisted, reason leaving his body as he drew ever close to the edge and the sick animal in him fully took over. He was desperate to draw every last descriptive detail out of her even if it meant overwhelming her to the point of a complete breakdown. He pinned her wrists against the bed, adjusting the angle of his thrusts, only tearing his eyes away from hers to observe the faint outline of his dick rearranging her insides.  

“Daddy!” she cried, the tears finally rolling down her flushed cheeks, her hands fisted into the blankets. Every stroke now had him in danger of blowing his load. He demanded again through gritted teeth:

“Who’s your daddy, baby?”

“You! You are!” she screamed, body trembling violently and words then dissolving into moans as she came all over his cock. The intensity of her pulsating around him was enough to finally set him off as well, and with a few more forceful, erratic thrusts, he came so hard that his eyes nearly rolled back, cock twitching, pumping his come into her with every pulse.

“That’s it, that’s my sweet girl,” he murmured various soothing words in her ear, slipping a hand under her ass for leverage and to fuck his come even deeper as they each rode their orgasm out.

Before he had a chance to pull out, she reached up to maneuver him so that he was laying on top of her, finding the weight calming as the spinning sensations in her mind and body stilled. He was content to oblige, tucking his face in the crook of her neck and taking in the heady scent of their combined perfume, cologne, body heat and sex as he worked to slow his ragged breathing back to normal.  

[starsomens]

DAD NOAH DAD NOAH DAD NOAH DAD NOAH DAD NOAH DAD N-

warnings: some postpartum, being overwhelmed after a baby with noah helping you, I have no kids and no super solid knowledge of how it feel postpartum this is all an estimate

“She’s beautiful man” jolly compliments as he holds you newborn daughter “luckily she took more of Y/N’s genes”

Everyone in the room chuckles at Jolly’s joke. You had given birth about 10 hours ago and the boys has stopped by to visit the small family. Eden met all of her uncles. With Noah’s lightly hovering making sure she was alright.

“Noah didn’t pass out?” Ruffilo asked looking at his best friend

“Oh no, he was a champ,” you compliment him with a pat to his leg as he stood at you bedside. Eden started to fuss a bit with a small whimper and jolly rocks her

“Awh what happened precious girl? Uncle jolly not comfy for ya?” Jolly pouts at the baby as Noah went to tend to her “wow, he’s a natural. We’ll be going then, give you two some time.”

The boys gather themselves, saying their goodbyes to you three.

“Call us if you guys need anything!”

“Well being some food later!”

The all gave their promises before leaving the room. Noah continues to rock Eden

“Give her babe, I think she’s hungry” you adjust your hospital gown, and try to get her to attach. She was healthy, had a good weight in at 8 lbs and 5 ounces. You’ve only been having issues with latching when it was time for her to eat. You eventually get her to latch it could take up to 10 minutes. Only making her more fussy, and you more overwhelmed with your baby in distress.

You sigh as your eyebrows knit together. You become slightly frustrated when she cannot latch but it’s not her fault you feel like it’s your fault for not having a better way to feed her. Noah could see how you were feeling and how you were struggling.

"Baby?" he said is a soft tone, and brings a chair close to your bed and sits down with you "You pumped some milk, do you want to bottle feed her or do you want to keep trying to breast feed her?" Noah always make sure to ground you knowing you'd want the pregnancy and parenthood to flawlessly. But this being your first baby, he knew there would be a few hiccups.

"I want to breastfeed her...." you pout slightly

"Okay, let me help," he takes hold Of Eden's head and helps to guide her to your nipple. He did as the nurse showed him to help Eden latch on better. She finally latches on and you let out a sigh of relief as she eats. You watch her carefully making sure she was eating properly

Noah was watching in the mean time. Of course he wanted to help with Eden but he knows you're under a lot of new stress too "you're doing great you know..."

"Hm?" you look up form Eden

"I know this is hard, and you're tired and overwhelmed, but you're doing amazing. Eden has the best mother taking care of her..." he smiles at you while he strokes your hair. After Eden was done feeding, Noah takes her and gently burps her

"After I put Eden down I'll help you get to the bathroom alright?" he kisses the top of your head as his large hand continues to gently burp Eden. He puts her down in her bassinet and goes over to help you out of bed slowly. He stands you up slowly and helps you to walks you over to the bathroom slowly.

"Okay baby, what do you need?"

"Um....the bottle, and a pad please, I also want to brush my teeth"

"Okay, do you need help sitting or standing?" he asks you being cautious of letting you go

"I...*sigh* yeah...can you help me sit on the toilet?"

"Of course baby," he helps you to get down, slowly but surely. He gets your supplies and helps you in anyway he can. Afterwards you brush your teeth while he brushes your hair and ties it up in a night little bun. He helps you back into the bed, with a kiss to your lips as he admires you

"What is it?" you asked

"Just looking at the mother of my daughter and my beautiful wife," he smiles at you "you're my pretty girl, and you made another pretty girl. I have a gorgeous queen and beautiful princess now"

[writingjourney]

Never Alone | Copia x gn!Reader

At first you couldn’t bring your mouth to form the words, like speaking the news somehow made it real, inevitable. But now, another half hour later, you’re glad that he knows, that you’re not alone in the aftermath. Or: Copia comforts you after you receive some awful news.

content: 550 words, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, the news is unspecified but it is implied that it’s a family matter, can be read as Papa or Cardinal, [Ao3 Link]

This is for the anon who reached out to me last week, I hope you find some comfort in it ♡

You listen to his heartbeat, the rhythmic thumping between his ribs like the low beat of a drum in the background of a song. You have to focus hard to even notice that it’s there and you are focusing, filtering through the racing thoughts that enter your mind unbidden. The beat has slowed down significantly since you first told him, since you collapsed into his arms not sure how you would ever survive the day and he begged you to tell him what happened.

After the first few crippling waves of panic had subsided, you’d told him. How you received a call about a family matter, how the news had pulled the very ground from under your feet. It was your luck that Copia returned to your quarters only half an hour after the call to retrieve something he’d forgotten this morning, that he picked you up from the floor and pressed you tightly against his solid chest and refused to let go. At first you couldn’t bring your mouth to form the words, a sense of trepidation overcoming you, like speaking the news somehow made it real, inevitable. But now, another half hour later, you’re glad that he knows and that you’re not alone in the aftermath.

“It will be okay, amoruccio,” he says. “We will get through this together. You are not alone, eh? Never alone.”

You nod against the wet fabric of his shirt even though you know there is no way to fix things, fisting it just a little bit tighter at his back. He coos, rocking you back and forth like one calms a child. And you feel like you are in that moment, like you are helpless in the face of disaster, like you yield no power over the cruelty of the world. His soothing words are the only thing between you and another collapse, the reassurance that whatever is going to happen now will not rest on your shoulders alone.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you so much.”

You sniffle, holding onto him ever more firmly. The lump in your throat makes it hard to form words, the trembling in your limbs impossible to even try to get up.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you force out. “I’m so scared, Copia.”

“I won’t leave your side until you feel better, yes? I am here for as long as you need me, my baby.”

You nod gratefully, allowing him to press the softest of kisses to your face, following the wet lines of your tears over your cheeks and down to your jaw, kissing the remaining droplets from the corners of your mouth. He removes the gloves from his hands, cradling your face in both of them before he leans in for a proper kiss – gentle, warm, comforting. You let your cheek sink against his, feeling the softness of his flesh, the growing stubble when you rub skin against skin. 

Copia wraps his arms back around you, pulling you close once more. You shift your focus back to his heartbeat, the steadiness of it. While the fear sits deep inside your belly and you have no idea how you will get through what lies ahead, you find solace in the fact that he will be by your side through it all.

[rodolfoparras]

Sprained my knee due to sliding on ice and GOOODD i need old man price to take care of me so badlyyyy *grips the table with my molars*

Pairing: John Price x Male Reader

Cw: suggestive, 18+

Price would never admit it but he’s genuinely scared of losing you. All his life he’s spent fighting without a real cause and when you came into his life he found a solid reason to stick around. Losing you would send him spiraling

So every injury you get, every cold you endure, he’s glued to your hip, attentive to your every need. especially when you waddle through the door, knee bandaged up with crutches supporting your form.

“What happened?” He says, pale in the face while wrapping a strong arm around your waist.

“Just a small accident, nothing too serious” you say, trying to ignore the throbbing pain as to not worry him any further.

“Nothing serious huh?” He scoffs in response, as helps you sit down on the couch.

“John I really mean it”

“Who patched you up?” He ignores your words, and kneels on the ground to get a better look at the wound.

“Hm? Oh Vincet did”

“Did he use anti septic?” He says calloused thumb carefully brushing over your bandaged knee.

“John it didn’t bleed”

“Doesn’t matter” he grunts out, still carefully gauging your knee “It’s swollen. Did he ice it before he wrapped it up?”

“Yes” you say with a fond smile on your face, eyes rolling slightly at his dramatic behavior.

“Fuck me I knew I should’ve gone with you,”

“Nothing you could’ve done about it” you say with a shrug, fingers fondly carding through his hair.

Price mutters something under his breath, eyes still glued to your injured leg.

“You worry too much you know?”

“How could I not? Didn’t you almost spend 4 days in medevac last week and before that your arm was in a sling and didn’t you and gaz -“

“Okay I get it” you say, swiftly cutting him off in his rant.

“Point is I have plenty reasons to worry kid, “

“Alright you got a point, but really I’m fine,just a small sprain, nothing serious,”

A scoff in response is all you get from him before he’s placing a kiss on your leg “going to give me a head full of grays,”

“Don’t you already have that?” You say playfully but he doesn’t respond. Instead he continues to place kisses on your leg, working his way from the top of your injured knee down to the sole of your foot.

“John” you croak out, feeling blood pool to your lower half.

“Hm?” Is all he says, looking at you with eyes half lidded as he continues to place kisses along your leg.

“Get over here” you croak out, leaning back onto the sofa to make room for the older man.

“But your knee-“

“Fuck, don’t care just come here please”