#this powder room has a large

[sailorluna15]

Ambessa x Concubine!fem reader

minors + men dni!

cw: age gap, powder dynamics, smut, all that good stuff

When Ambessa first laid her eyes on you, she knew you were going to be her favorite.

She immediately requested you come to her room, and you were hella nervous. You had just gotten there, what made you so special?

Ambessa quickly told you to take off your clothes and do a 360. She wanted to see everything she was working with lol.

"Take off your clothes and turn around. Bend over. Mm, very nice."

When she asked you to bend over, you almost passed out from embarrassment.

Ambessa then beckons you towards the bed and spreads her legs wide open.

"Fuck, keep going," Ambessa says as you lap at her cunt.

Ambessa has you eating her out from the side with your face down and your ass up.

Ambessa pushes her fingers inside your cunt and a moan slips out of your mouth.

Your mistress gives a firm, reprimanding slap to your ass.

"I didn't say you could stop." she scolds lightly.

"Sorry, mistress. It won't happen again." You respond with her plump clit in-between your lips.

Rubbing your ass, Ambessa replies, "Thank you, baby. You're so good to me. So devoted."

You nod in agreement as you hungrily devour her cunt.

Ambessa pumps her fingers in and out of your pussy roughly and the sounds of your wet pussy fills the air.

Your body rocks back and forth as you fuck back onto her fingers.

Moans vibrate against Ambessa's clit as you whimper and mewl from the stretch of two large fingers fucking your flower.

"Keep going pet, I'm close," Ambessa says as she throws her head back in ecstasy.

Two thick fingers continue to pump in and out of you, and you fuck back ever hard, moaning loudly. Tears stream down your face and you feel like you can barely control yourself.

Your silently begging for release.

With the brush of your clit, your prayers are answered.

Liquid gushes out your cunt as you squirt down Ambessa's hand.

"M'Lady!" You muffle out as Ambessa grinds hard against your face and cums.

She sings praises to you as she orgasms. When she comes down from her high, she pats your butt twice and gives you more praise.

"What a good girl, I knew I picked you for a reason." She says with a small smile.

"Thank you, M'lady." You respond shyly.

"Go clean up. I'll see you later on."

"Yes, mistress." You respond back with internal excitement. You bound towards the door, bow, and close the door.

"I can't wait until later."

You walk a few steps before you feel something sticky on your thighs.

"Ew."

[requiemforthepoets]

you say good morning when its midnight ⟢ OP81 (part 5)

main masterlist | fic playlist | series masterlist

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: you and oscar grew up together, and despite being neighbors and best friends with her sister, hattie, you never really talked or had a conversation with him. until one day, where he randomly texted you out of nowhere.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: use of y/n, (a little) slow burn, humor, fluff, inaccurate information, no consistent face claims, all photos are from pinterest, weird, awkward, unhinge, reader is a little bit ball of a mess, long distance relationships, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 555

AUTHOR'S NOTE: part 5! sorry if the update took a little long, i was away for a vacation. but i'm now back, and i'll try to update this series as much as i can. also, this series will be my primary focus for the meantime. i would like to apologize if this is a bit rushed, indecided not to some parts since i wanna focus on the plot, but i hope you'll enjoy this one!

𓆉𓆝𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓇼

It was four days later when the front desk called up to your apartment at Kent Ridge Hill Residences, letting you know that there’s an express package that had arrived for you. Couriers weren't allowed to go up to the units, so you had to head down to the lobby to collect the package yourself.

You linked in confusion, slipping on your slippers as you mumbled a soft, “I didn't order anything.”

You certainly haven't ordered anything. Not even a midnight retail therapy binge your forgot about. Still, you took the lift down and approached the reception desk, signing of the delivery. The box was not heavy, but it was neat, its brown cardboard edges sealed perfectly with a transparent tape that has the “fragile” word printed on the tape, and your name printed clearly on the shipping label. It wasn't large, nust enough to cradle in both arms comfortably.

You carried the box back to up to your apartment, the elevator ride feeling longer than usual. Once you reach your apartment, you quickly went in and locked the door. You sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor of your living room, scissors in hand. You stared at the package for a good minute like it might explain itself if you waited long enough, and then you began carefully slicing through the tape until the flaps peeled back.

As always, your curiosity won out.

You opened the box with care, like it might contain something so fragile. Inside, nestled in a bed of brown paper, were four things: a fridge magnet in the shape of Mt. Fuji that has the word "JAPAN” lettering under it, a tiny sakura petals swaying in a snow globe dome, a frog mug that is oddly shaped like a tiny pitcher, curved and handmade-looking—like it was plucked off the shelf of a sleepy Kyoto ceramics shop, and finally, a delicate matcha tea set—complete with a bamboo whisk, ceramic bowl, and a tin of fragrant powder so green that it could’ve only have come from somewhere special.

You felt your hear skipped a little in your chest. You definitely knew who it was from before you can even see the the note that was tucked neatly beneath the matcha set. But still, your fingers trembled slightly as you opened the small card, written in careful handwriting:

< I didn't buy you a postcard. I figured that’s somethinf you should do yourself, someday, when you’re finally there. I didn't want to take that moment away from you, but I thought I’d help you get started on the fridge magnet collection. Oh, the frog thing was just a spur of the moment thing, it reminded me of you and it looked like it should belong with you. - podium boi >

You read the note not only once, not twice, but three times. You couldn't help it and bit you lip, cheeks burning. The smile that grew on your face didn't stop for a long while. You tucked the note safely on your journaling notebook, then grabbed the fridge magnet and stood in front of your fridge, and with a soft click on the surface, you pressed the magnet into place. There was a quiet warmth blooming in your chest that you didn't quite know what to name just yet.

Postcard-less, for now. But not empty, not anymore.

𓆉𓆝𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓇼

yn.jpg posted to their story!

liked by hattiepiastri, yourmom, your brother, and 13 others

𓆉𓆝𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓇼

𓆉𓆝𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓇼

𓆉𓆝𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓇼

𓆉𓆝𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓇼

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[rafeysbunny]

Ok rafe doing coke with the reader and then having a fuck fest 😌

a/n. this has been sitting on my asks for a while now, i really hope you get to see it anon! thanks for the request!

you are giggling softly as rafe's finger gently rubs a tiny bit of coke onto your pink gums for the second time tonight, the effects of the drug already kicking in —even though he was careful enough not to give you too much.

is it bad that you love getting high with him?

you can't help but suck his digit in a playful manner before he finally pulls his hand away, a thin thread of saliva stretching in between his finger and your lips as he takes it out of your mouth.

"now stay still for a sec, baby," he mutters, pouring a bit of the white powder for himself over your sternum.

your shirt is laying somewhere on the floor of his living room, boobs on full display while he does a line on your chest using his credit card —he has been insisting on doing this all night, and it's not like you can deny him anything.

every little brush of his fingers lights your skin on fire, more than it usually does, and you know that's the cocaine doing its thing. your little nipples are hard, panties already wet as you watch him lean forward to snort the cocaine from between your tits, his tongue sliding all the way up your flesh where the coke was just laying when he's done so none of it goes to waste.

you gasp in response to his actions while you reach out to tangle your fingers in his soft, blonde hair. you give it a slight tug, knowing how much he loves it when you do that, and you're rewarded with a little grunt of his own.

he leaves a trail of wet kisses all over your chest, collarbone and neck as he makes his way up your body, aiming for your lips. he kisses you like he's starving as his large hands force your thighs open so he can slot himself in between them. you're both panting when he breaks the contact.

"how you doin', baby?" he asks breathlessly, lips still brushing against yours while he talks, "feeling good ?"

you nod in response. "so horny, rafey," you pant out, your hips unconsciously bucking up to grind your pussy against his cock over your clothes, desperate to feel him.

"suck a needy, little slut, huh?" he chuckles darkly, wrapping a hand around your slender neck.

he's just as turned on as you are, his hard dick throbbing insistently inside his pants while he stares at your semi-naked body squirming beneath him on the couch. your breath hitches slightly at his rough grip and you can feel your cheeks blushing when he grinds back, the friction making you shudder.

"dirty girl... so fuckin' desperate for cock," he murmurs hoarsely.

his calloused thumb gently presses against your pulse point —feeling your fast heartbeat there, while his free hand reaches out to grasp the waistband of your shorts and yank them down your smooth thighs, exposing your black lace underwear. when he slips that same hand inside your panties, he finds you soaking wet for him.

"drenched already ? haven't even touched you properly yet... what a pathetic whore," he taunts.

he smirks against your flushed cheek as he pushes two of his thick fingers inside your tight cunt, and your pussy flutters around them. the dirty talk, added to the degrading words sent your way, has you turning to putty in his arms.

"gonna fuck this slutty cunt the way it deserves, you hear me?" he says, curling his digits inside you to hit your g-spot. when you moan and nod eagerly in response, he adds, "yeah? want me to ruin this fuckin' perfect pussy? words, baby."

you shiver at the demanding tone he uses with you, his raspy voice filling your ears and striking just the right chord in your brain to make your pussy drool.

"yes, need you to fuck my pussy so bad," you answer between pretty whimpers.

"you're gonna get it, a'right."

he's quick to get rid of your remaining clothes and then he undresses as well. once naked, he grips your hips roughly to turn you around, bending you over the couch. as he positions himself behind you, his hands are restraining you, one of them forcing your head onto the cushions so your back is arched while the other is pinning your hands at the bottom of your spine.

when he finally thrusts into your sloppy cunt, you're seeing starts behind your closed eyelids as you let out the loudest moans he's ever heard from you, which only motivates him to fuck you harder, hips slamming roughly against your plush butt and pussy squelching lewdly around his cock. he'd make you cum again and again, fingers bullying your swollen clit until you're begging him to stop, pretty cheeks wet with tears. only then, he allows himself to cum.

"baby, fuck, so good f'me," he'd moan while he fills you up, dick throbbing inside your spasming cunt as he fucks you through his orgasm, "such a good little slut."

more.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

would you make a Klaus fic, where he and reader are under a sex spell? just a sex magic fic, you can decide on the plot🥰

love your fics btw💕

Warning:Dubcon cause sex pollen, talk and use of sex toys, desperate/passionate fucking, needy Hybrid sex, brief realization of Yandere behavior at the end

‘You’re joking!’ I exclaimed, unable to unhear what Bonnie had just told me.

‘No, not at all. We need to keep you away from everyone else because this spell can potentially effect others who come in contact with you. Caroline has already said you can stay in her parents cabin, Damon is taking you there now.’ She shooed me out of the room and outside to Damon’s car.

‘Get in the back!’ He snapped as I moved to slide into the passenger seat. ‘I don’t need this shit effecting me next-‘

‘Why can’t I just stay in the cell in the basement? That way I won’t be alone…I’m scared-‘

‘Because Klaus was hit by that shit too, we don’t know if he knows what it was yet and with how desperate he is for you every other day without being bewitched, I can’t even imagine what he would do with you now.’ He explained as if I were a small stupid child and I wanted to hit him desperately.

A warlock coming after Elena (as always) for Doppelgänger blood for one of his spells had attacked us. I had grabbed a potted plant outside of the Grille and cracked it over his head which gave Elena enough time to run and find Damon, though as he whirled around to me there was suddenly an angry Hybrid standing in front of me which gave the Warlock pause.

Klaus had seemingly taken an interest in me as soon as he arrived in town and while I don’t encourage him, I’m also not cruel or mean either, which seemed to make him think he had a chance.

The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a small spell bag before dumping some pink powder into his hand and blowing it at the both of us. I couldn’t help but inhale it, only breathing in more when I began choking and hearing Klaus do the same, my eyes and nose burning as I felt his hands holding onto me. Though he was still coughing himself he checked on me (which I found very sweet), hands on my face and inspecting me before brushing the powder off of me leading to me returning the favor. He had no clue what it was and neither did I but after a quick thanks I left to find my friends and a witch to tell me what the fuck I just inhaled.

Turns out we had both been choking on a very powerful potion that people had dubbed “Sex Pollen”. Many witches used to use it several hundred years ago but most stopped once people began insisting that it led to way too many people becoming effected (since all you needed to do was injest a drop) and ending up sexually assaulting whoever came across their path. The potion is typically in a liquid form but talented witches can make it in a powder, however it is about ten times more potent.

‘Stay here, theres food and water, TV, books. Everything you could possibly need. Caroline also bought you some…play things…to help. God this is so gross, they’re in the bedroom. Get out of my car-‘

‘No! How long do I have to stay here?!’ I snapped making him roll his eyes.

‘Bonnie said in the powder form it can take several hours to kick in but it lasts a few days, though with how much you breathed in probably a week at least. Go! Before you infect me too and we really have a problem!’ I grabbed the bag that Elena had packed me and slid out of the car, walking inside and locking the door behind me with a heavy sigh.

‘Fuck All Of You Assholes!’ I screamed, hating my friends for abandoning me just so they wouldn’t suffer as well before I looked around the cabin, finding the bedroom with a large California King that was quite comfortable. I also came across a basket on the bed which contained a rechargeable wand, a 7 inch pink suction cup dildo, a butt plug and a bottle of salted caramel flavored lube. ‘Why The Fuck Was She So Thorough?!’

I set the basket aside and stripped out of my shirt and jeans as I began feeling warm, climbing into the bed under the sheet and deciding to try and take a nap before I get hit with killer horniness.

The nap didn’t last more than an hour before I woke up rolling around restlessly, my body sweating now as a hot feeling in my stomach began intensifying. I couldn’t tell you how long I laid there writhing in misery before I heard a loud knock at the door, instantly hating the world that much more.

‘What are you doing here?!’ I snapped as I finally dragged myself to the front door, moody and uncomfortable which made me unable to be kind.

‘I thought I would come and assist you. Wouldn’t want you suffering through this alone, now would we?’ Klaus asked, looking every bit as put together as always but I could see in his eyes how desperate he was. I could also see his impressive bulge tenting his jeans.

‘How did you find me? I was-never mind. Go away Klaus!’ I groaned, moving to shut the door.

‘I followed Damon, he wasn’t very careful, my guess is he didn’t much care if I found you. They just wanted you away from them before they had to suffer too, your friends that you protected sent you away to save themselves. Seems really selfish to me.’ Any other day I would disagree but with how I was feeling I couldn’t argue with him, prompting me to agree.

‘You’re right…Fuck them! Couldn’t even put me downstairs! Had to leave me all alone!’ I raged as I was overcome by a cramping pain straight down to my pussy causing me to double over.

‘Invite me in Love, let’s help each other? It’s going to be days with only brief hours of relief between…let me help you get some relief?’

‘Klaus, I can’t-‘

‘You want me just as much as I want you, don’t lie!’ He growled, eyes glowing gold now as he showed how desperate he really was, so far gone that he wasn’t able to hide it anymore.

‘It’s just this stupid magic-‘

‘No! No, I’ve wanted you since I first set eyes on you, and you…you need me too.’ His hand reached down to grab his crotch, pupils nearly swallowing his entire eye whole. ‘I can make your pussy feel so good baby, you need me! Who else could go anywhere near as long as a Hybrid, huh?’ He was right, if anyone could help me it was Klaus, especially with how pent up he is himself. ‘Please Y/n? I need to be buried in your little cunt, and you know you need it too! Your fingers can’t help you the way my cock can and I know you’ve dreamt of my cock in your needy little pussy since long before this ever happened-Fuck! I Need You! Please?!’ He begged and as I felt a rush of wetness coat my panties I whined, nodding my head. ‘Say it Y/n…Say It!’

‘Come in Klaus! Please?! I need-‘ I didn’t get to finish my statement before I was tackled to the floor with the Hybrid yanking his pants open and shoving them down enough to free himself before tearing my panties off of my body and shoving himself into me roughly.

‘So Fucking Perfect! Knew your cunt would be perfect! Tightest little cunt-Fuck! Never gonna stop fucking you baby!’

‘Yes! Don’t Stop! Fuck Klaus, your cock! So good!’ Tears leaked from my eyes as he continued thrusting into my body. The sound of skin slapping together echoing through the house and out the front door that hung on one hinge from where the Hybrid had nearly ripped it off as he entered. ‘Oh Fuck!’ I threw my head back against the carpet as my first orgasm rushed through me out of nowhere, only realizing he had finished with me when I felt the hot cum inside of me as he continued thrusting, never once even slowing down.

‘I need to feel you squeeze me again Babygirl, cum for me! Cum for your Alpha!’ The second orgasm was just as strong as the first as I came and felt his body tense up as well before he finally stilled, breathing heavily into my neck.

‘I think…we’re in trouble…’ I panted heavily and he chuckled before looking down at me, hesitating only a second before pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lovely kiss. ‘Don’t stop.’ I insisted when he pulled back, grabbing onto his neck and pressing my lips to his this time as I enjoyed our kiss.

‘This isn’t how I wanted it to happen, I wanted to take you on a date, show you how much I love you…then I was going to fuck you…wanted to make you feel so good you would never leave me again-‘

‘It’s okay, you’ve just done it backwards…you can still take me out, just after this is over because I don’t think people would appreciate you fucking me over our table.’ I teased, enjoying the genuine smile that I got from him, only ever seeing it when he looks at me which has always made me feel special.

‘That’s the spell talking-‘

‘I liked you before that you idiot! I just never really thought you were all that serious.’ I admitted, pushing him up and feeling his (once again) hard cock slide out of me as he helped me stand up.

‘How could you think that? I’ve gone out of my way to show you-your friends told you I was using you, didn’t they?’ I nodded and he huffed a heavy sigh before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into a rough kiss. ‘I love you, regardless of any doppelgänger or your awful friends. After all of this I will take you out properly, I promise…but until then-‘

‘No! No more floor fucking, there’s furniture and a bed here for a reason, no more carpet, it hurts.’ I explained, feeling the rug burn against my back and ass.

‘No more rugs, but I need you now.’ He growled, lifting me by my thighs and appearing in the bedroom instantly, dropping me onto the bed. Just as he spread my legs he paused, glancing over to the table and reaching out to grab the basket with the things Caroline had left. ‘What-‘

‘Caroline left them for me. I guess she wanted to help me since I’m all alone.’

‘Interesting…does she know you well, or not?’ He wondered, picking up the butt plug and raising his eyebrows making me blush as my body started sweating.

‘Klaus! Stop the teasing and get inside me! The cramps are starting, so if you’re not going to help me then get the Fuck out and I’ll do it my-Ah!’ I cried out, feeling the rounded end of the plug pressing to my tight hole and rubbing against it. ‘Oh God!’ Klaus took the lube bottle and squeezed a healthy amount onto the plug before tossing it to the other side of the bed and pressing it back against my ass.

‘Relax Precious, this is going to make it feel so much better!’ He promised, pushing the plug harder until it popped into my hole. Klaus could feel his cock throbbing even harder at the sight of the jewel on the end of the plug. ‘You are so fucking perfect! How do you fee-‘

‘Klaus! Please?!’ I begged, pulling him closer and yanking at his shirt before getting it off and sighing in relief at the feel of his hot skin against mine.

Klaus shoved his jeans and boxers the rest of the way off, finally naked as well before taking hold of his cock and pushing himself back inside of me. ‘There you are love, feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Both of your slutty little holes stuffed up?’

‘T-Too much-Never-‘

‘Never been so full before, I know Baby! I-Fuck!’ Suddenly as if he could no longer control himself he began thrusting into me frantically. ‘Mine! My Fucking Cunt!’ He snarled, Hybrid visage taking over as he fucked into me so hard I briefly wondered if he could shatter my pelvis like this.

‘Yes! Yours! All yours, don’t stop! Please don’t stop?!’

Y/n couldn’t have said how long Klaus continued like that. How long he thrust into her cunt at a painful speed, how many times the both of them had climaxed together while he still continued to fuck his (somehow still) hard cock into her, she couldn’t even say how many times he had buried his fangs into her throat in an effort to mark her as his like a werewolf marking his mate…and maybe he was. Odds are she was never getting away from him now-not that she wanted to.

It was a week later that Damon finally came back to the house to check on her finding the front door ripped open.

He ventured inside, not hearing anything and figuring that it was over for Y/n and who was inevitably Klaus that had torn the door off the hinges. He was prepared with jokes galore for the the drive back, excited to pick on the young girl for giving into the monster that had been after her for months but sadly he never got to use those jokes.

Damon opened the door to the bedroom to find his girlfriends friend snuggled into Klaus Mikaelson’s naked chest fast asleep. The Hybrid however seemed to have awoken as soon as he turned the doorknob, his yellow eyes finding his with an intensity that he had never seen. He bore his fangs, lifting his head and Damon (one of the only people who had never truly feared Klaus Mikaelson) was instantly terrified. It was like a bucket of ice water dumped on him, alarm bells ringing in his head declaring the danger that he is in prompting him to throw up his hands instantly. As Klaus moved to sit up, the young vampire shut the door promptly and hightailed it back to his car, peeling back down the driveway.

He doesn’t know how long that stuff will take to wear off but it definitely hasn’t yet and he would not be disturbing them again!

Y/n and Klaus were in the house for nearly 2 weeks before they felt as if their bodies were back to normal though they stayed for another week after that. No one could have imagined how close such a spell would bring them…no one except Klaus of course.

The witch he had hired to make that powder had done a wonderful job, money well spent in the Hybrids mind. The spell had worked better than he ever could have imagined and it had gotten him exactly what he wanted.

The only thing left to do was to kill the witch that had helped him and ensure that his mate never learned that he was the one who had dosed her.

He finally had his girl, he couldn’t let something so trivial ruin it.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[okay-j-hannah]

Mama Bear | Smosh 💛

Smosh : Multishot

Spencer Agnew x Reader

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: slow burn, friends to lovers, Spencer pining, reader is struggling in LA, not a lot of money, poor studio apartment, abusive boyfriend, physical/verbal abuse, lots of musical theatre talk

Request: This just came from my own head 😊  

A/N: Thank you for all the love 🥰 I've really needed to get this story out of my system

Part 1: The Kickstart

Part 2: Mama Bear {You Are Here}

The next few months have been a whirlwind.

You grow accustomed to the inner workings of Smosh. You have become an integral part of the team. Many turn to you for help and advice – always eager to do what you can.

Though sets make you camera shy and rooms with more than your closest friends make you quiet, everyone knows who you are.

Your famously large fanny pack, full of essentials, becomes the new ‘mama bear bag,’ as it is lovingly called by the cast and crew. You somehow always have exactly what everyone needs, almost like you can sense their need of help before they do.

On the set of Reddit stories, you walk in with your setting powder, ready to pat away any shiny spots on the cast. You stand behind Brennan at the camera, quietly observing. They were still setting up lights and sound.

You watch as Shayne unknowingly has a food stain on his face. Angela is having a bad hair day, unable to keep her hair out of her eyes. Chanse beside her has discovered a cut on his finger from opening cardboard packages that morning.

Without a word, you walk onto the set, opening your mama bear bag. You hand Shayne a wet wipe and gesture to the stain on his chin. You give some bobby pins to Angela, helping her make crisscrosses above her ears to hold back her hair. And you grab Chanse’s hand, carefully wrapping his cut with a band aid.

On your way out you crumble the band aid wrapper and take Shayne’s wet wipe.

“And yet again, we’ve been humbled by the mama bear bag,” Shayne chortles. “I swear I don’t know how we survived without (Y/N) all these years.”

“She might be the most observant person I know,” Chanse says, getting comfortable on the couch.

You stand back, waving them off as the cameras start to roll.

The trio get into the Reddit stories, laughing about the ridiculousness of the posts. The audacity of some of the writers has you giggling in the back. Angela is rioting on the couch, flinging herself around with laughs.

At one point she falls to the ground, smacking Chanse on the leg. When she gets back up, the bobby pins in her hair are off centered and no longer pinned in place.

She starts to wail as a bit. “(Y/N)! I ruined my hair.”

Shayne starts laughing heartily, holding onto the iPad, “Quick, everybody freeze. (Y/N) is coming to the rescue.”

Everyone giggles as you move onto the set, refraining from showing your face. You’d ask the editors to cut you out of the shot later.

~~~

Over on the Games set, you help a coworker behind the camera who has a headache. You pull a little organized container of medicine from your bag.

A few members of the cast were playing another round of Moose Master and Amanda was complaining about her dry hands.

You put your medicine pack away and extract a bottle of coconut milk lotion. You walk to the edge of the set and wiggle it in the air for Amanda to see.

She lights up, “Oh, yes please! Thank you, (Y/N).”

You toss the bottle and watch Amanda catch it.

“I will forever be impressed with how much that bag holds,” Angela shakes her head.

“The mama bear bag,” Courtney giggles.

Amanda tosses the bottle back at you, “Thanks, honey!”

“We love our mama bear (Y/N),” Arasha smiles.

~~~

On the set of SmoshCast, you walk in during an active shoot with Amanda, Shayne, and Spencer. In an act of retaliation, Amanda had jokingly texted you for drinks and snacks. Spencer was doing another one of his bits where he brings a crazy number of drinks on the podcast.

Completely disregarding his own rule to not have drinks and snacks while filming.

Shayne spots you and immediately starts wheezing, covering his face with both hands. Amanda is wide eyed and stunned.

“You actually brought stuff!”

Spencer is in the middle subtly shaking his head and looking at you with such warmth.

You bring a container of delicious looking fruit danishes, serving them on little platters. Then you reveal actual teacups that you generously pour a honeyed tea into.

“Holy shit – you brought a whole spread,” Amanda continues, narrating into the microphone for those that aren’t watching on video. “(Y/N) has brought actual porcelain teacups and cream cheese danishes.”

Shayne is still occupied with his wheezing, tears now developing in his eyes. “Like we’re on the set of fucking Bridgerton.”

You smile, “Now you can properly spill the tea.” You know your voice will be muffled on the podcast without a microphone, and you awkwardly shuffle away to keep your face off camera.

“I’ve just had the most brilliant idea,” Amanda says, taking a sip of her tea and devolving into an English accent.

“And what is that, good sir?” Spencer asks, eyes still lingering on you.

“Gentleman’s episode of Smosh Mouth,” Amanda continues, “Where we delve into the explicit details of our illegal mines and mistresses.”

Spencer chokes on a laugh, “That is quite astonishing.” He gives you a wink and you smile.

~~~

The latest Smosh Games idea was to have a Gentleman’s video playing Ultimate Werewolf. At one point, the other gentlemen gained up on Spencer and pretended to beat him up because he was the werewolf.

It was a hilarious bit and Alex, being the director, cuts the video and asks for you to do some special effects makeup on Spencer while the others have a lunch break.

You lead Spencer to the makeup vanity outside the set rooms.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Agnew.” You turn the chair towards him and grab the clothing protector apron.

Spencer places his fake cigar onto the vanity and continues his English accent. “Thank you, young chap. I say – I should very much like for you to deliver a most formidable contusion to my eye.”

You giggle, wrapping the apron over his front, like a hairdresser. It protects his costume from getting makeup on it.

“I shall deliver the most fearsome blow to your face – using my delicate brushes.” You remove his top hat while he laughs.

“Powerful brushes, I say.”

You pull out some stage makeup and a stippling sponge. With Spencer’s hands confined to beneath the apron, you lightly take away his glasses and place them on the vanity.

Spencer watches you with a warm gaze. As you near his face, he tries to look straight ahead instead of directly at you.

“I’m thinking a bruised cheek that grows into a black eye. And maybe some fake blood around your nose. I could do a busted lip too?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “Whatever makes me the ugliest.”

You smile, grabbing the yellow cream makeup. With your free hand, you push his hair away from his temple.

He closes his eyes at your touch.

You begin with a thin layer of yellow, then start to stipple purple and blue on top.

“Amanda is upset that we still have not had a hangout since you taking Angela to see my musical.”

He smiles, refraining from opening his eyes. Seeing you so close to his face would send his heart into overdrive.

“I’m still surprised that Angela wanted to come in the first place. She’s the one making jokes about how hanging out with coworkers is embarrassing.”

You use a maroon color to show a split in the middle of the bruise. “I was just thinking… maybe we should do something tonight. Can you look up for me?”

Spencer opens his eyes and looks toward the ceiling. You use the sponge and your fingertips to blotch color around his eye and cheek.

You smell like a flower garden. His pulse quickens. His throat bobs.

“We can celebrate another successful filming week,” you continue, oblivious to his visceral reaction to your presence.

“Y-Yeah,” he chokes out. “We can play games at my house and maybe watch a movie?”

You continue to blend out the cream makeup. “Awesome! I think Amanda, Shayne, and Courtney are down.”

You miss how his face dips a little when you mention other people.

“What about Aaron?” he asks.

You grab a different brush and start working on his lip, laying a base of concealer and dark colors.

He was finding it hard to take a full breath.

“I don’t think I’ll invite him,” you say quietly.

Spencer is unable to talk with you painting his lip. But his eyes snap to your focused ones. Was everything okay?

“He’ll be fine,” you continue, just as quietly. “I just… want to hang out with my friends.”

There’s something strange and suspicious about your tone of voice. Spencer starts to scrunch his brow, trying to figure you out.

You notice the worry in his expression. “It’s fine. I just… want to be out of the apartment.”

That doesn’t help his nerves.

You’re now applying a small amount of latex to make a visible wound on his lip. Letting it dry, you look at Spencer’s eyes to see him asking you a question with his eyebrows.

“Don’t worry,” you start to color the latex, “It’ll be fun.”

Spencer tries to say something, “Is there… ow!”

You smack his shoulder, “You’ll ruin your lip.” Your face seems a little sullen, but you give a small smile.

He slouches in the chair and gives you a penetrating look.

Back on the Smosh Games set, Alex continues to direct and you can already picture the cut scene in the video where Spencer is getting beat up to him now sitting in his chair with a messed up face.

It’s making you giggle as the other gentlemen comment on the bruising.

“I say, look at that ghastly contusion to your eye,” Shayne shouts.

Amanda flails her cigar around, “I do declare, it rather suits your complexion.”

Spencer readjusts his top hat, “I must profess, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I simply have some tenderness to my face.”

You laugh off stage – knowing that the editors would most likely put subtitles that said ((Y/N) laughing).

~~~

After the last shoot, you’re cleaning up the makeup vanities and grabbing some remover for Spencer. Your enormous fanny pack is strapped across your chest, almost all coworkers out of the building already.

The sets door flies open and causes you to jump.

Amanda and Spencer are there chatting away but pause when seeing you scared.

“Woah, you okay?” Amanda asks with a smile. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to startle you.”

Spencer looks really rough with his face still full of bruise makeup. But his eyes consider you quietly.

You wave them off, “I’m just a little jumpy. Here Spence.” You offer the makeup remover and a little bottle to take the latex off.

“I have to say, you are amazing at that, (Y/N),” Amanda says, leading the group toward the front doors. “Spencer literally looks like he’s been mauled by a bunch of gentlemen.”

“Man, I should have done a bite mark,” you laugh, “Mauled by a bunch of gentlemen.”

Amanda laughs again, “Gentleman Angela would 100% gnaw on your arm for accusing her as a werewolf.”

Spencer starts to laugh at that mental image, rubbing his face with the remover and a cotton pad. “Feral gentleman game would be so funny.”

“Because the irony is that we are gentlemen that are shitty people. Then we can take it a step further by being gentlemen that are shitty people with rabies.”

You snort, “I guess we have a new video pitch for the next meeting.”

“So, um…” Spencer opens the door, “I can give you a ride and we can all meet at my place?”

Amanda agrees, saying how Shayne and Courtney were planning on that anyway. You smile at him, causing strange things to fly around in his stomach.

“Is it weird of me to say I’m excited to see what your apartment looks like?”

He laughs, “Curiosity did kill the cat.”

“I can’t believe you just confessed to taking me to your place to kill me.”

“Not before I show you my katana,” Spencer smiles, opening the passenger door for you.

You laugh, “The murder weapon.”

Driving towards his apartment, Spencer is being hyperaware of how you’re acting. He was still suspicious of your motives for wanting to spend the night out. He notices you cowering into the car door.

He’s never noticed that before.

“Are you okay?”

You take a shaky breath, “Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t like driving much.”

“Is… is that why you take the bus? Did you choose not to have a car?” He keeps moving his eyes from the road to you.

You try to straighten out, “No, I can drive if I have to. I just don’t like to.” You hold onto your purse to give your hands something to do. “What should we play at your place?”

Spencer tries to let your explanation settle, but he’s still curious about your disklike of cars. “We could play Super Smash Bros.”

“Or Super Mario Party?”

He smiles, “Not before some pizza.”

The drive to his apartment is full of pleasantries, Shayne and Courtney already parked and holding boxes of pizza and breadsticks. Amanda is just helping them carry a box when you get out.

“Happy weekend!” you say cheerily. “Ready for some food and games?”

Amanda puts one arm around your shoulders, “I’m excited to get to know you more.”

“Yes!” Courtney adds, following Spencer to the door. “You’ve been at Smosh for a few months, and I still feel like we don’t know much about you.”

“Well, I’m… I wouldn’t say I enjoy talking about myself much,” you laugh awkwardly.

Amanda snickers, “Clearly.”

They walk inside the little apartment and are immediately welcomed by the mewling of a gray cat. You are obsessed.

“Aw!” you fall to your knees, “Hello, sweet girl.” You offer a hand and wait for the cat to sniff your fingers. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

The little gray cat lifts her nose to the air before rubbing her face against your hand. You begin to melt.

Shayne starts laughing, startling the cat. “I think we know why (Y/N) wanted to hang out.”

“That’s Cleo,” Spencer says sweetly, putting his keys down and going to grab some drinks.

Courtney puts their share of the pizza boxes on a small dining table before joining you on the ground. “She is the prettiest little lady.”

Amanda helps to set out some paper plates and napkins before starting to serve. Shayne grabs himself and Courtney some slices before sitting on the couch in the living room. You stay with Cleo the cat, completely content to sit with her for the rest of the night.

It’s not until you notice a pair of feet standing in front of you that you look up, Cleo in your lap. Spencer stands there with an ice cold Diet Coke from the fridge.

You smile, taking the drink, “I didn’t know you were a Diet Coke fan.”

“I’m not,” he says.

Your smile falters for a second before a warm feeling swells in your chest. Cleo hops from your lap and Spencer offers a hand to you.

You take it, standing with ease. The others are already chatting and eating their pizza in the living room.

“Do you have any pets, (Y/N)?” Amanda asks.

You sit down beside her, Spencer quick to sit on your other side. “No, I couldn’t afford one,” you laugh awkwardly. “I don’t really have the space for one either.”

“Shame, it seems like you’re an animal person,” Amanda continues.

You nod enthusiastically, “I love animals.”

Shayne reaches for one of the switch controllers, “Fancy a game, Chosen?” he speaks in a silly lisp accent.

Spencer chuckles, settling in beside you. “Of course, Chosen. The only acceptable opponent… is obviously myself.”

A strange anime laugh comes from Shayne, and you smile. You’re rubbing shoulders with Spencer every time he moves his arm with the controller.

“Finally, girl talk,” Courtney says sarcastically. “(Y/N), how long have you lived here?”

“For about two years,” you say shortly. You don’t elaborate and you can feel the sudden shift of an awkward pause after you speak.

Amanda gives a laugh to fill the space, “What made you want to move here?”

“Probably the same reason many others do…” you say quietly, taking a sip from your soda to buy you time. “I wanted to live somewhere that might support my creative side. LA has a lot of creative and performing arts.”

Courtney agrees, putting an arm over the couch and behind Shayne. “Right, you’re a bit of a theatre nerd.”

“More than a bit,” Spencer butts in.

You nudge your shoulder into him. “I do love theatre.”

“I’m glad you’ve continued working with it to some capacity,” Amanda says. “I’ve been doing improv troops and sketches for years. The black box is my home.”

You smile, knowing that a black box was a dark room in a theatre where actors can improv something out of nothing. Sometimes people perform shows there, utilizing the empty space to be more creative.

“Are you a part of an improv group right now?” you ask, glad to steer the conversation off yourself.

“I’m a part of the Groundlings Improv Theatre and I keep doing performances at UCB as a Maude performer.”

You find that Spencer’s arm isn’t so much bumping into you as fully pressed against yours now. “What’s a Maude performer?”

Amanda perks up, “It’s someone that’s a part of UCB’s sketch comedy group. You have to audition annually and then help write for and perform sketches.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun,” you remark. “What about you Courtney?”

“I’ve found my way into being a main writer and a director on the Smosh channel. That’s where I’ve found my most creativity. I’ve helped with some FX makeup on some music videos, and I’ve made an online apparel rental subscription service. It’s called Courtney’s Rack,” they giggle for a second, “And it’s inspired by my own style.”

“You guys are so cool,” you say warmly. “Way to follow your passions.”

Amanda waves you off, “You too, girl. You’ve worked your way into a sketch group.”

You nod, but don’t elaborate. Instead you feel a chill – you shiver. “Are you guys excited about our next karaoke livestream?” You miss the way Spencer side eyes your shivers.

Courtney holds an invisible microphone, “Hell yeah! I think it’s time to get our Madonna on.”

“You haven’t seen how wild our karaoke streams go,” Amanda laughs, “Throw a bunch of attention seeking performers in front of the camera and all bets are off.”

Courtney shoves her, cackling, “Just calling all of us out.”

Spencer hits pause on the game and jumps from the couch. You watch him walk awkwardly around the ottoman and to the hall.

“Ha!” Shayne says in his silly voice. “The Chosen has realized that he can never beat himself. Therefore, I – the multiverse Chosen – have succeeded in defeating him.”

“We’re off set, Shayne,” Amanda rolls her eyes, “You can cut the act.”

Shayne combs his hair off his forehead, “Sorry, it’s just a part of me at this point.”

Spencer reappears with blankets. He tosses one toward the other couch with Shayne and Courtney. He lays the other over your lap and retakes his seat beside you.

You smile at him and whisper, “Thank you.” His arm presses against yours as firmly as before.

“Welcome.”

“Are you planning on making a guest appearance, (Y/N)?”

You hum your confusion. “Hm? Me do karaoke on the stream? I don’t think so.”

“Why not! We invite crew on it all the time,” Amanda says cheerfully.

You shake your head, sipping your soda. “I couldn’t – not in front of all those people.”

“I bet you have a lovely singing voice,” Courtney smiles, “All those musicals you’ve been in.”

“Once upon a time…” you say quietly, “Maybe.”

“Well,” Amanda says warmly, “Maybe it’s time to try it again.”

You feel an ache enter your chest. It quells the ever constant anxiety roiling in your stomach.

Shayne cries his defeat, “Curses! Bested by the best.”

Spencer nods his head in acknowledgement, “Would the ladies like to participate?”

“I’m ready for a movie,” Amanda says, putting her pizza plate down. “I’m feeling something epic.”

“Like Interstellar,” Spencer says, putting his controller down.

Courtney sighs, “Like 13 Going On 30.”

Shayne starts laughing, leaning back and putting a hand on Courtney’s leg. “All right let’s compromise. Let’s watch Megamind.”

“I second that,” you say, “Or a Marvel movie.”

“Let’s watch Avengers,” Courtney says.

You all agree, Spencer flipping through his smart tv to get a streaming service. His arm against yours is full of warmth. You gravitate towards it, leaning into him more.

Cleo the cat pads over and jumps onto the couch between you and Amanda.

“Hello, sweetie,” Amanda coos. But Cleo turns her eyes onto you. She blinks slowly and crawls onto your blanketed lap.

You’re very pleased with yourself, petting her fur as she settles. Spencer looks at you, eyes moving from your contented face to the cat. He suddenly has to hold his hands in his lap to keep them from wrapping around you.

The movie begins with everyone settling in. Cleo the cat purrs in your lap, snuggling into a little ball. You pet her, subconsciously leaning into Spencer.

The longer the movie plays, Shayne and Amanda cracking jokes about certain parts, you feel sleepy.

Cleo is fully asleep in your lap, stretching her cute little paws.

Your body slumps more into the couch and into the side you’re leaning into – right into Spencer. He tries to keep his cool as your head falls closer and closer to his shoulder. He tries to ignore the looks the friends are giving you two.

He tries to keep his eyes on the tv screen, his hands being tightly held in his lap.

You fall asleep on his shoulder.

His heart beats faster.

The movie ends with the end credit scene and the friends begin to excuse themselves.

“We’ll just leave you to it,” Amanda says in a teasing tone. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“Remember to breathe,” Courtney snickers, getting her shoes on.

Shayne salutes him at the door, “Good luck, dude.”

You begin to stir as they shuffle out the door. Cleo turns onto her back, still asleep. Spencer turns his head to watch you wake.

He traces the outline of your face with his eyes. It’s soft and careful and warm.

His arm pleads to be moved around your shoulders. Hold you to him. Urge you back to sleep.

“God, I’m sorry,” you mumble sweetly. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“That’s okay,” he says just as quietly. “You must’ve needed it.”

You stretch, lifting your chin from his shoulder. He hates the rush of cold that it leaves against him.

“Thanks for letting me drool on your shirt.”

“I will never wash this shirt again.”

You giggle in a groggy way, eyes heavy. “That’s disgusting.”

“How dare you say that about your drool. Nothing about you is disgusting.”

You sit straighter, running your hand down Cleo once more. She begins to purr again in her sleep.

“She likes you a lot,” Spencer says quietly. “She latched onto you real quick.”

“I’m an animal whisperer,” you say, rubbing at your eyes. You still hadn’t noticed how enraptured Spencer was with you beside him.

He finds it hard to swallow – the dim light, quiet room, and comfy couch all tempting him.

“Are – Are you ready to go home?”

You heave a heavy sigh. “I guess.”

“You guess?” he asks playfully. “You frozen in place with Cleo in your lap?”

“Partially,” you hum. “I have to get home sooner or later.”

Spencer feels that itch that something is wrong. The same feeling he had when you asked to hang out. “Is… everything okay?”

“Fine,” you say sleepily.

“(Y/N),” he asks slowly, “Why did you want to be out of your apartment tonight?”

There’s a silence that speaks volumes. Your face falls in a way that scares Spencer. He turns his body to see you better – his arm falls onto the back of the couch.

“(Y/N)?”

You clear your throat. “I just wanted a break from Aaron. That’s all.”

“Why?”

You pat Cleo’s head, waking her up. She sits and stretches her back on your legs before hopping off. “Sometimes your partner frustrates you and you need to walk away, right?”

“Depends on what’s frustrating you,” Spencer says, watching you stand and fold the blanket.

“I don’t know, Spencer. He… I shouldn’t complain. He’s helping with the bills.”

Spencer stands with you, “But that doesn’t mean you have to deal with whatever’s bothering you.”

“It does when it puts food on the table and a roof over my head.”

“But you did that before him.” He follows you to the door to drive you home.

Walking outside in the cold, you start to get upset. “You don’t understand.”

“Maybe I don’t. You have a new job that pays those bills, (Y/N). There shouldn’t be anything tying you to him like that.”

“I… I don’t like talking about this, Spencer.”

Now in the car, you drive down the street with momentary silence. Spencer feels anger brewing in his stomach. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to butt into your relationship.”

“It’s okay,” you say quietly, arms around yourself. “My friends are entitled to their opinions.”

“But not when I make you upset like this,” he says. “I’m just worried.”

You look at him with sad eyes. “Why?”

He flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. “I just… you’re my friend, (Y/N). Of course I worry about you. I care about your wellbeing.” There’s a pause where he feels a joke bubbling out of him. “And not just because I need you on set for my job to function properly.”

You smile and it relieves him.

“Thanks, Spence.”

The car parks outside your shabby apartment and Spencer stares at the chipped door with slight disdain.

“I’ll see you next week,” you say, opening the car door.

“Hey,” Spencer says suddenly, drawing your attention.

You bow down to see him still inside the car, “Yeah?”

“Call me if you need anything,” he says firmly. “Okay?”

You look at the seriousness in his face and start to nod a little bit. “Okay.”

~~~

The next week begins with a new round of meetings and writing. You are not needed until characters are decided for sketches, but you help the other art coordinator Alex to organize a few other set items.

You’re able to come in later than usual to do this.

You get off the bus and begin your walk toward the Smosh office. Your hair is down and slightly obscuring your vision. You try not to touch the makeup on your face too much.

“Good morning, Selina,” you say in your same sweet tone.

Selina waves at you, “Good morning to you too.”

You walk past the lunch tables and toward the art department by the costume and props storage. You wave at Erin and Josh before sitting at your desk.

Cassie fills you in on a few projects that the writing room is working on. You begin by cataloging what you’ll need to set on costume racks for the next filming week. You give a list of makeup and hair care refills to be ordered.

It’s into the afternoon when you head toward sets to organize racks and vanities for the coming week.

“(Y/N)!”

You turn toward the hallway of pods where the cast and crew work on the media side of things. Tommy and Spencer are heading towards you.

“Have you seen some of the new videos that’ve posted?” Tommy asks.

You ruffle the sides of your hair, making sure they lay to hide some of your face. “No, I don’t really look at the views and things like you guys.”

Spencer has a big smile on his face, “Well, the comments on the last few have been pretty good.”

“Meaning?” you say, walking into the empty sets to reach the costume racks. You don’t want to give them enough time to look at your face.

“Meaning that the fans have started to notice how often we talk about you on set.”

You turn sharply on your heel, Tommy and Spencer running into each other. “I’m sorry?”

“Look at some of these comments,” Tommy says, holding an iPad to your face. You grab it and begin to scroll, seeing line after line that’s asking about you.

“Angela asking for mama (Y/N) to fix her hair is so funny!”

“Does anybody know who (Y/N) is?”

“Is (Y/N) a new member of the Smosh crew?”

“Face reveal for (Y/N) please!?! We want to see who you guys are talking about!”

“Amanda saying yes please and then a lotion bottle being launched at her head took me so off guard.”

“Mama bear bag is my new favorite character.”

“Video for what’s inside (Y/N)’s mama bear bag!”

“Ah! (Y/N) almost being revealed on Smosh Mouth!!”

“(Y/N) bringing a full English tea set is hilarious.”

“We love a supportive crew member trying to encourage spilling the tea.”

“I love hearing (Y/N) laugh off set.”

“Spencer’s gentleman is so feral. His true self comes out with that top hat.”

“Do you think (Y/N) was the one that did his makeup?”

“I swear I hear the cast mention (Y/N) every video now. How can they tease us?!”

You start to feel a tightening in your chest, your breath a little shallow. “All of these… people recognize my name?”

Tommy is still giddy with the comments, “Yeah! Isn’t that crazy? We might have to have you guest star just to tease them a little bit more.”

Spencer notices that you are a little tense. “But we don’t have to do that. We just wanted to show you the positive response from the audience.”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Thanks, but maybe we should hold off for a while longer.”

Tommy seems a little disappointed, but Spencer waves him away. He wants a moment with you alone. He watches you sort through some old costumes on the rack.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t mean for that to stress you out.”

“It was a little overwhelming is all,” you give a strained smile. “I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”

Spencer puts his hands in his denim jacket. “We’ll wait until you’re ready.” His brows scrunch when he notices something on your face.

“Got anything fun planned for Games this next week?”

He leans over to see your complexion better, starting to get in your way. “Um… we’re thinking about some guessing games and… and a Throw Throw Burrito…” His hand lifts from his pocket and you lean away.

“What are you doing?”

“What’s that on your face?” he asks.

You turn away sharply, “What do you mean?” You start walking towards the vanities on the outside of the sets.

Spencer is close on your heels. “There’s something by your eye.”

At a mirror, you open your giant fanny pack to find your makeup. Under the lights, you notice some smudging around your eye where pristine makeup had been before. Yellowing spots that still hold a hint of blue and purple.

“Oh dammit,” you mutter, pulling out your concealer. “I ran into a cabinet this weekend and got a black eye. I thought I could keep it painted to avoid any awkward questions.”

You smudge concealer and foundation under your eye. You can see Spencer behind you in the mirror.

“That looks like a nasty bump,” he says lowly.

“Yeah, it hurt a bit.” You say, feigning a smile. You can hear a hint of disbelief in his voice. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a little bruise.”

Spencer purses his lips and nods his head, “Sure.”

You pat the makeup down and walk back to the sets to grab the sorted costumes.

~~~

You walk through the office with a few little presents and gifts of food. Your fanny pack is full of essentials, your arms full of plastic bags and a large drink carrier in your hands. A ballpoint pen sticks awkwardly from behind your ear, and you mumble the checklist you made earlier that day.

In another writing and meeting week, you find other things to occupy your time when your usual responsibilities are completed. It keeps you busy.

And out of your apartment.

Sharply turning a corner, you tap on the glass door of the conference room. People at the table smiling and waving you in, you quietly slide open the door to enter. The look of concentration leaves your face to reveal a wide grin.

Ian pauses his presentation of a fresh project by waving at you and gazing excitedly at what you brought.

“Don’t mind me,” you whisper. The same thing you whisper every time you make one of these deliveries.

All the main cast were there, along with a few representatives of social media and the heads of production. They were going over ideas for the next livestream to raise money for a foundation.

But you were more focused on getting this little ‘side quest’ done. Side quest meaning it wasn’t on your usual list of responsibilities. You start to pass out drinks to their corresponding owners, doing so in such a fluid motion that no one doubted their cup was exactly what they ordered.

Next, you open the plastic bags digging into your arms to hand out sandwiches and salads. You normally pitch in a few extra dollars to buy a better lunch for your coworkers and friends. You can see a speculating eye from Anthony as he accepts his deluxe meal.

You put on your best smile and wave a hand. “Don’t worry about it.” And before you leave, you reach into your fanny pack to extract a small box of cookies. “For dessert,” you whisper with a wink.

And before anyone can protest the homemade treat, you run out of the room with a few more drinks and meals to pass out.

There was a smaller number of people in the office today as it was primarily a writing day. You go searching for the few editors that were still working on things.

You find Kiana and give her another box of homemade cookies, then you find Tim to give him a coffee.

This became another routine for you. Just like how you use your mama bear bag to help on set so much, you use this spare time to help all the editors and production teams. People at Smosh start to expect your little visits and gifts.

Many know you by name, by smile, and by gifts. They come to love the sight of you because it meant something sweet was on the way – whether it was a thoughtful treat or a thoughtful conversation.

You took this self-proclaimed occupation very seriously. You love caring for your coworkers and friends.

That didn’t mean you never got stressed.

Your steps are quick again as you make your way to other editing pods. That checklist in your head never seems to grow smaller:

Get Damien his coffee

Give cookie box to art department

Ask Angela and Amanda about seeing that play together

Give Spencer his drink

Give Tommy a hug and see how he’s doing

Make sure Spencer actually ate a lunch

Update portfolio with some special effects makeup

Ask Spencer if you were…

Someone suddenly crashes into you, sending the last few cups of coffee into the air and all over your shirt. You jump at the steaming hot liquid, pulling against the fabric of your shirt to keep it from your skin.

“Oh, shit! I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

You wince and look up to see Spencer’s sympathetic face. “It’s… it’s fine. I’ll just bump a few things on my list and go get changed and grab more coffee.”

He immediately knelt down to pick up the remains of the cups and carrier. One foam cup had an off-color soda dripping from it. “I’m guessing this one’s my kickstart? Serves me right not looking where I’m going.”

He gives you a smile, his eyes sloping in natural concern. His heart beats in an uneven way. You look so flustered and worried – making your cheeks turn pink.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just…” You hold your sticky shirt a few inches from your stomach, closing your eyes and thinking hard, “I’ll figure something out.”

Spencer sighs, “I just ruined your whole agenda, didn’t I?” He picks up your ballpoint pen and quietly slides it to behind your ear, “Please don’t stress out about it.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” you let out a nervous laugh. “I guess I could find a costume or merch shirt to wear.”

“You know I have one of my Smosh sweatshirts in my pod. You want to change into that? Get yourself out of brewing in your own shirt.”

When he laughs at his own joke, it makes you giggle. “Uh… actually, that’d be really nice.”

He leads the way toward his pod, “I know you’re not working on any art coordinating today.” He goes under his desk to extract a simple pastel colored hoodie. “So you know you could take a short day instead of making up errands to do.”

You grab the sweatshirt and head to the bathrooms, “Yeah, but then I’d be stuck at home.”

He follows you down the hall, “You make yourself intentionally busy to avoid being at home?”

“Precisely,” you say, opening the bathroom door. “I’d rather be with all you guys.”

Spencer waits patiently outside, smiling to himself and shaking his head. You think you’re so clever, but he knows there’s something going on in your apartment. Something that makes you afraid to stay there.

It only took one minute to change, but maybe two minutes to stare in the mirror and identify the smell that was undeniably Spencer. A clean laundry detergent smell, like the ocean, but with something spicy.

You walk out to see Spencer eyeing you.

“You look cute.”

Something tightens in your chest. “Thanks weirdo.”

His eyes notice something along your chin. “What happened here?” he points to a spot on your jaw.

“Oh, I’m not sure. Probably some clumsy accident,” you laugh off.

It looks like another bruise. Smaller than your eye. But a bruise nonetheless.

Spencer frowns, something protective and angry beating in his chest. “You seem to get a lot of those lately.”

You shrug your shoulders. “I gotta pass out these last lunches to Bailey and Brennan.”

~~~

After a long day of reorganizing, passing out homemade treats, and checking in on people – you are exhausted.

So when you walk out the front doors a little before everyone else and see the pouring rain… it doesn’t lift your exhaustion in the slightest.

Preparing yourself, you walk outside, lifting the hoodie that you borrowed from Spencer to cover your head.

The bus stop is just a couple blocks away, but you are soaked through by the time you sit on the bench. You wait with your hands in your sweatshirt pockets, hoping the bus will be there earlier than usual.

A coldness begins to drip down your back and you’re sure this will develop into an unwanted flu.

Shivering, you hardly notice when a car pulls over on the side of the road and directly in front of you.

It’s Spencer who jumps out, baseball cap on to shield his glasses from the rain. He runs around the car and crouches in front of you.

“What are you doing!?”

“Waiting for the bus like I do every day,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

He’s not happy about it. “Even in the rain? Didn’t you think to ask somebody for a ride home?”

You pause for a second. “No, I didn’t.”

“Well,” he puts on a cheesy smile, “This is a prime time to start. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Really, Spencer – it’s okay. I’m fine with waiting.”

He straightens out and gives you a deadpanned stare. “Are you also fine with contracting pneumonia?”

You roll your eyes, and he knows he’s won. “All right, let’s go.”

He open the passenger door and you clamber in. You’re nearly chattering with cold by the time he sits down. He promptly turns on the heat.

“Why didn’t you call someone when you noticed it was raining?”

“Because I didn’t think of it.”

“Ms. Independent over here,” Spencer laughs.

You playfully punch his shoulder, “So what? I would have been perfectly fine on my own.”

He looks at you sincerely, “I know. I know you are capable of doing it on your own. But I still would like you to let me help you.”

You hold yourself, beginning to shiver. Though your head was protected by the hood, the strands of hair spilling out were soaked. It wasn’t helping that your clothes were all damp and now resting on your chilled skin.

Spencer feels a sympathetic ache settle into his chest. “Aaron couldn’t pick you up?”

You bite down to keep your teeth from chattering. Then you use your favorite word. “I didn’t want to inconvenience him.”

It makes the ache pulsate in Spencer’s chest. “Because you know he’d be upset by you asking?”

“It’s understandable when I ask so much of him.”

Wonderment befuddles Spencer. When have you ever been someone to ask too much? If anything you don’t ask for enough things. “I think if you love someone, you’d be willing to do pretty much anything for them.”

“There are different kinds of love,” you say in a soft voice.

Spencer doesn’t like it. It sounds afraid.

“You might be right about that,” he swallows, driving down your street. “Remember to call me if you need anything.”

You smile like you always do when he says that. It’s become a regular thing.

“Sure,” you get out of the car, “Get home safely, Spence.”

And he watches you walk inside and even a little bit after that. Unsure of how to interpret the ache still in his chest.

~~~

You sit at the vanities with Shayne, helping him look like a ghost for an upcoming sketch. You put in white hair color spray and attempt to tame it while he sits patiently.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks sincerely.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You say with an easy smile, “Are you okay?”

He returns your smile, “Yeah, you seem a little tired.”

Was it the circles under your eyes or the lack of color in your face? “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“That sucks,” he winces, “Anything keeping you up?”

You feel vulnerable for a second, “Just taking care of my boyfriend.” You give an uneasy laugh, “He’s been having a lot of boys nights out drinking.”

Shayne furrows his brow, and you smack his shoulder as you try to smooth his ghost makeup.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “Doesn’t sound very fun.”

You shake your head, “But then I get to come here and be with all of you!”

He contemplates your expression, seeing the smile you put on top of the stress. “Have you noticed the number of commenters asking about you?”

“Of course I have. Spencer loves to bring them up.”

“They love you already,” Shayne chuckles, “They love how you help on set, especially when you throw in a little joke with it. They love that you take care of us.”

You feel that anxiety of the audience always watching eating at you. But it starts to be smothered by another feeling of pride as you realize people are acknowledging you for your efforts.

“That’s kind of them. I’m just doing my job.”

“Above and beyond your job, more like it.” Shayne closes his eyes as you put makeup around them. “They’ve really adopted calling you mama bear because of your mama bear bag.”

That makes you chuckle, “You have to be prepared for anything.”

“I’m glad we got to hang out,” Shayne says, his eyes moving to follow you, but staying still while the makeup settles. “We should plan another one soon.”

“That’d be a lot of fun.”

“Spencer never hosts big hang outs,” he says with a little smirk. “I was surprised when he was so willing.”

You pat down the makeup with some setting powder. “Well, I think when I mentioned hanging out he thought it was just going to be us two. Then I told him I’d invited all you guys. He was kind of roped in by that point.”

“That explains it,” Shayne says with a sigh. “Of course he’d be more willing to host when it’s just you two.”

“Why do I have a feeling there’s something more to that?”

Shayne shrugs, letting you take off the black apron that protects his costume from the makeup. “I just mean that Spencer would rather have one on one hangouts than be a part of a big group. It’s the black cat in him.”

“The black cat,” you laugh. “I’ve never heard of someone being called that before.”

“You know… like how people call some dudes golden retriever guys?”

You raise your eyebrows, “Kind of like you?”

Shayne gives a funny look. “Sure. Spencer is a black cat kind of guy. Just watch, you’ll notice.”

“What do you think I am?” you ask, cleaning up the vanity. “Do I have cat energy?”

“Maybe a little,” Shayne says, considering you. “But you remind me more of a… sunflower.”

“Never heard that one before,” you say, walking with him to the Smosh set.

“It’s just… you're bright and pretty and fun,” he says casually, “Especially with your smile.” You pass some writers and producers on their way to help with lunch. The caterers must’ve been seen pulling in.

Spencer is among them with Alex Tran.

You walk right up to them, “Do I give off sunflower energy?”

He looks taken aback and Alex smiles instantaneously. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You know…” you point at Shayne, “Golden retriever energy,” you point at Spencer, “Black cat energy.” You then point at yourself, “Possible sunflower energy?”

“What a nice way to say you’re a grumpy old man sometimes,” Alex says hilariously.

Shayne starts to snort with laughter. Spencer gives them a glare but tries to answer you seriously.

“Um… y-yeah I would consider you a sunflower.” He watches you start to smile, “Especially right now. And the fact you smell like a garden all the time.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you look at him with confusion. “I smell like a garden?”

“Uh…” Spencer starts to splutter in his panic of possibly offending you. “You know, like flowers. You smell like flowers all the time. It’s just… something I’ve noticed.”

“From all the times you’ve been sniffing her?” Alex asks incredulously. That sends Shayne over the edge and the wheezing starts to come out.

You fold your arms, sucking in your lips to hide a smile.

“No, I didn’t say that,” Spencer retorts loudly, waving a finger at his friends. “People can smell people unintentionally. When you’re in the same vicinity. And (Y/N) smells like flowers whenever she walks by.”

You smile at him, completely endeared by him. “Thanks Spencer. It’s lilies.”

All the boys stop their antics and look at you.

“I love lilies,” you say, “Or lily-of-the-valley.”

Alex shrugs their shoulders, “I feel like I’m missing out. I have no idea what lilies smell like.”

You tilt your head to the side and expose your neck to them. “Then take a whiff.”

Shayne shakes his head, “That’s so unhinged.”

Spencer is stuck staring at the exposed skin of your neck, your head turned away and your hair falling behind your shoulder. He’s still daydreaming as he walks to lunch.

~~~

There’s something about Spencer today that is not sitting well with you. He seems a little nervous, a little fidgety, like anything could scare the living daylights out of him.

You wonder what is ailing him while you check in on all the editors in their pods. You leave a little treat on Erin’s desk and ask Courtney for her opinion on a cardigan you want to buy. You give a new guitar pick to Josh, telling him how the engraving of a sun reminded you of him. He beams afterwards.

You compliment Damien’s desk, asking him how he’s been lately. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Spencer spinning side to side in his chair. He’s looking at you with a straight face.

You talk to Shayne about sharing a Kristin Hannah book that you love, and you notice Spencer wiping his hands down his pants, fixing his glasses a worrisome number of times.

You pick up a bakugan that has fallen off Alex’s desk. You ask about it while noticing Spencer licking the corner of his mouth as he watches you.

It takes another five minutes before you’re at Spencer’s desk. “Hey!”

“H-Hey,” he says in return. He clears his throat and you can tell he’s biting the inside of his cheek. You furrow your brow.

“Are you okay?”

His eyebrows raise, “Y-Yeah, of course I’m okay.” You miss how Alex starts to smile.

“Sure. You just seem a little… on edge today.”

“Yeah, just… thinking about an upcoming shoot.”

You nod slowly, squinting your eyes like you don’t believe him. “Alrighty then. I’ll see you later on set.”

He waves you off and then hides his face in his hands. The pod of boys starts to laugh.

“You are completely hopeless,” Shayne wheezes.

Damien is more sincere, “You’re in a tough spot.”

“I think it’s gotten worse,” Alex says, taking a sip of a drink to hide their smile.

Spencer starts to bounce his legs with the nerves, his head bouncing with them. “This is ridiculous.”

“It’s sad,” Shayne chokes out, “You got to tell her.”

“Tell her what?” Spencer slumps back in his chair, “Hey, (Y/N)! Guess what? I’ve had feelings for you since you worked at that gas station, and I’ve been trying to get rid of them for months but seeing you every day has only made it worse. So anyway, you should leave your douchebag boyfriend and be with me instead!”

Damien sucks in his lips, trying to be genuine. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to go over well.”

Spencer groans, rubbing at his face with his hands, messing up his hat. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this distraught before,” Shayne says, “It’s more than a little disconcerting.”

“It’s starting to scare me a little,” Alex confesses, “Why is it worse today? You look like you have a ticking time bomb up your ass.”

There are some laughs until Spencer wipes the sweat at his temples. “I’ve been trying to ask her to hang out, just us.”

“To do what?” Damien asks seriously.

“I never pictured you as a homewrecker, Spencer,” Shayne says surprisingly.

Spencer waves his hands around, “No, not anything like that. I’m trying to be her friend.”

“And spending an evening alone together will prove that?” Alex asks with a funny look on their face.

“No, I just… I don’t know.” Spencer is at a loss. “If I can’t be with her, then I want to be good friends.”

“With benefits?” Shayne asks in a low tone, less with humor and more with serious questioning.

Spencer is mortified, “No! Just being good friends. I think having her in my life, even as a friend, will make me way happier than without her.”

“That’s sweet,” Damien says with rosy cheeks. “I think you should ask her.”

Spencer thought he could fit the role of best friend rather nicely. Maybe it would help him put his feelings to rest. Maybe it would help convince him that being friends was enough. Just to have part of you would be worth it.

But the thought of having all of you… to unashamedly hold you, touch you, kiss you, call you his. It put that all too familiar ache in his chest. The same warm, pounding ache that he feels whenever you’re near. Whenever he thought of you.

It’s what he’s feeling as he walks toward the green room – a little section next to the hallway of pods. It has a velvet green couch and a black vanity beside it.

You’re sitting in the makeup chair, spinning around mindlessly while looking at your phone.

Spencer stands there awkwardly, hands stuffed into his pockets, thumbs tapping a restless beat against his thighs.

You finally notice him. “Oh, hey Spencer.” He gives you a quiet greeting and you sit up with that same worry you’ve felt over him all day. “What’s up?”

He clears his throat. “Well, I… I was wondering if maybe… um – well, what…” He shakes his head, using a hand to fix his glasses. “I was wondering what has you so engrossed in your phone?” He’s mentally kicking himself. “A new Ghost Files episode?”

You smile as he remembers one of the ghost investigation channels you really like. “No, I was just contemplating buying the new Wicked on Amazon Prime.”

Spencer raises his eyebrows, “I think as an established theatre kid you legally have to own that movie.”

“Have you seen it?” you ask with a wider grin.

He feels warm at seeing you smile. “Yeah, it’s good.”

“That’s…” you contemplate his tense demeanor. “That’s not what you wanted to ask me, was it?”

He lets out a breathy laugh. “No, you’re right. I wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out tonight.”

“Oh, yeah! What’s everyone doing?” you lean forward.

His throat gets drier, “Um… no, I meant just you and me. I don’t really feel like hanging out with a bunch of people.”

“Ah,” you say funnily. “The black cat emerges.”

Relief starts to trickle in as he takes in your smile. “Right.”

“Well, what did you have in mind? My place isn’t exactly free with Aaron being there. He’s having a poker night with his work buds. It gets… well, I wouldn’t want to be there while they’re playing.”

Spencer feels something steely grow in his stomach. “We can go to my place. Play a game; watch a movie. Or maybe a musical.”

Your eyes get wide, “You really know how to woo a lady. A night in with a musical?” you give a chef’s kiss.

And that night you do head to Spencer’s house. He offers you a ride, but you’re flustered as it is with evading Aaron and his poker friends. It would make it a lot worse if he were to see Spencer picking you up.

You grab your purse and leave a platter of finger food for the boys. Aaron is already three beers deep when he demands a kiss from you.

“You think you can leave without giving me a kiss?” He slouches in his folding chair, the plastic dipping dangerously.

You patter over and leave a kiss on his cheek. Aaron grabs your upper arm and pulls you closer, “A real kiss.”

After a beat where his poker friends are snickering, you lean over to kiss his lips. They’re sour with beer. He smacks your ass for good measure. “Don’t stay out late – I’ll think this company meeting is actually a rendezvous.”

You wave him off, leaving the apartment as quickly as you can. You speed to the bus stop, excited to have a night in the company of someone that you like being around.

Walking to Spencer’s apartment took longer than you were expecting, but it was worth it to see he had set up a Jenga game, favorite drinks out, and Wicked already on the tv.

“I’m so excited,” you say a little breathlessly, taking off your shoes. You wince a little when you notice that above your socks, there were open blisters from your shoes rubbing your heel. “Shoot, um… Spence, do you have some band aids I could use?”

He slides from the kitchen with worry in his expression, “Yeah, what’s wrong?” He looks at you twisting around to look at the back of your heels, “Damn, that looks like it hurts.”

“I didn’t realize my socks had slid down,” you laugh it off.

Spencer grabs two band aids from a cupboard, “Here, sit on the couch.”

“That’s all right, Spence, I can put them on.”

He’s already unwrapping one of the bandages, “I know you can, but let me do it.”

“Seriously, Spence, you don’t have…”

He stops you, pointing to the couch. “Hey, just because you’re able to do it, doesn’t mean you always have to. Let me help – you’ll be doing me a favor – letting me feel useful.”

You smile with embarrassment in your cheeks. You sit down and twist your hips so you can show the wound on your heels. Spencer sits on the coffee table and gingerly lifts your leg to his knee.

He carefully lays the band aid on your heel, holding your socked feet with warm hands. He’s gentle in how he puts your leg down and grabs the other. You accommodate by twisting your hips the other way to expose your heel to him.

He repeats the process, “Was it a far walk to my place?”

“Not too far.”

“Can you explain what not too far means?” he asks with a smirk.

You play with your fingers, pinching the skin around your nail. “Maybe fifteen-twenty minutes from the bus stop.” You notice his eyes look a little upset at that. “I was walking pretty fast. I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

“And you wouldn’t let me pick you up because…?” he moves to throw away the band aid wrappers.

You continue to pinch and pick at your fingers. “Because my boyfriend is having a poker night with his friends. They get a little rowdy and drunk and I know he’d do something stupid if he saw you pick me up.”

Spencer returns to the coffee table, sitting on the carpet, “What kind of stupid?”

“Like…” you slide off the couch to meet him on the carpet. “He might try to pick a fight.”

“With whom?”

Spencer was definitely probing for a specific answer. He tries to be nonchalant.

You watch him remove a block from the Jenga tower. “Either of us, I guess.”

Something sad enters you. Something big and scary. It weighs on you and makes your shoulders sink. Spencer can hear it in your voice; can see it in your stance.

“That’s not very nice of him.”

A sad smile grows on your face but doesn’t meet your eyes. “No, I guess not.”

“Is he like that a lot?” Spencer asks cautiously.

You remove a Jenga block. “Maybe.” You look at Spencer and see the sincerity in his gaze. “Yeah.”

“And you’re with him still because…?”

You take a deep breath, leaning against the couch and pulling your knees to your chest. “To be honest, I don’t know.”

“Then why don’t you leave him?”

“Because he’ll be angry.”

Spencer looks at you with a furrowed brow, “You don’t want to make him angry?”

“And I don’t know – I still care about him.”

“Do you love him?”

You pause, the Jenga game still ongoing. “I’m not sure.”

“I’d take that as a sign.”

“It’s not as easy as it sounds,” you say quietly.

Your tone makes that ache in his chest pulse painfully. He hates to hear you sound sad and afraid. “You’re thinking about it, at least?”

You nod your head and silence consumes you. You did not want to dwell on boyfriend problems. “Can we watch the movie while we play?”

Spencer nods, grabbing the remote to start the show. Your mood instantly lifts. Like a flower turning towards the sun. He beams at your radiance.

He’s even more astonished when you start to sing.

“Holy shit, (Y/N). You can sing!”

You giggle as you continue to follow along with the musical. The Jenga game is eventually finished, blocks spilling over Spencer as he tries to pull some crazy move. You’re laughing as you pick up the blocks.

Spencer finds one of his blankets, Cleo the cat waking from her after dinner nap.

He sits on the couch beside you and drapes the blanket over you two. He is purposeful in how close he sits beside you.

“You should sing on our karaoke livestream.”

You shake your head, “No way.”

“But you sing so well!” he protests, gesturing to the musical you’re watching. “The viewers would go nuts for it.”

“I don’t know,” you say, leaning back into the couch. Your arms are fully touching. “They talk about me enough as it is.”

Spencer is determined, “I’ll sing a duet with you.”

“Seriously?” you ask, playing with your fingers again.

He watches you pick at your soft skin. “Of course, the fans have been begging to see you for months now. What a better way to do a face reveal than with a livestream for charity?”

“I’ll think about it,” you say quietly.

Spencer grabs your hand, keeping it from picking at your nailbeds. “Good.” He’s not sure what to do after that, letting go of your hand promptly.

You smile, content with leaning your head against his shoulder, unaware of how that little action caused his heart to pound.

That familiar ache consuming him.

An ache that Spencer is now beginning to wonder about. Wonder what would cause it. He was starting to recognize it as something equally terrifying and wonderful.

That ache was how he felt about you.

How he loved you.

~~~

Taglist: @maggiecc @tinkerbellsgf @georgeweaslysgirl

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Wherever you stray, I follow

Tags: LADS men x fem!Reader, fantasy au, princess!Reader, fae!Zayne, knight!Xavier, lemurian!Rafayel, dragonshifter!Sylus, knight!Caleb, why choose

Synopsis: You’re a princess arranged to marry the cold fae king, Zayne. However, there are four other contenders who are not willing to let you go so easily.

An: I have been maladaptive daydreaming about this story for months now. There are some ideas I have that I think I’ll never write. This was one of those ideas. Every time I considered writing it, I told myself that it was too ambitious. It’s too much to flesh out on Tumblr. I’m writing it anyway because I want to.

Chapter one. |

Contrary to popular belief, Xavier’s favorite part of the day was waking up. Sure, he valued his sleep more than anyone else at the estate, but he loved what the morning time brought to him.

He would intentionally wake up early in the morning before the birds had begun to sing, dragging himself up and out of bed even on the chilliest of mornings. Pulling up his pants as he tried not to trip over his sword from his exhaustion, Xavier was quick to adorn his navy blue uniform.

The only thought that filled his mind was the sight that would greet him… the only sight that made stepping on the freezing tile floors worth it.

He tied up his laces, sheathing his light blade to his belt before he made a mad dash up the stairs.

The estate wasn’t quiet in the morning times. In fact, this was when everyone was bustling around, trying to prepare for the day ahead.

While jogging to his target location, he snagged a croissant off of a plate that one of the many butlers were carrying around.

“Sir Xavier-!” the butler scoffed. His lips curled into a thin line, giving Xavier a look of disapproval.

Xavier merely chuckled as he snatched another one before the butler could even think to get away. He then gracefully strolled into the dining room, swiping one of the pristine plates off of the table. A servant glared at him with a look that could kill.

The blonde knight merely grinned, shrugging as he went on about his day. Even if looks could kill, he was confident that he’d win that battle. A life of protecting the most precious of treasures has made him as weary as it has made him cocky as well.

There was a reason he was sworn in as the princess’s personal holy guard.

He continued to make his way through the estate, bobbing and weaving through servants, maids, seamstresses, and even other knights. He carefully balanced the croissant on the plate until he finally arrived.

His fist gently rasped against the large mahogany wooden door. The barrier was intricately decorated with ornamental carvings and golden roses.

���Come in!” a sweet voice the could carry him away called to him on the other end of the door.

He didn’t waste any time. This is what mornings were all about. He opened the door. “Are you decent, my lady?” he asked, giving a small playful edge to his voice.

“Xavier, I wouldn’t have told you to come in if I wasn’t decent,” you chided whilst rolling your eyes. Xavier loved to remind you of the one and only time he had walked in to see you still getting fitted for one of your gowns.

You had a team around you. One lady was carefully taking the rollers out of your unruly hair and teasing it. Another lady was busy dusting powder across your face, almost enough to make you sneeze. Finally, you had a third lady behind your back, fitting your corset to your body.

It took a village to prepare a princess, and Xavier was one of the lucky few that got to see you during your most raw moments… the moments before your hair had been sprayed into place, the moments before your face became a canvas.

He got to see you — not the princess. That was what made his mornings worth it.

“Mm, except for the one time you did let me in while you weren’t decent,” Xavier reminded. His voice always felt like a warm security blanket, even while he was teasing you.

He made his way to your side, kneeling before you as he offered up the plate with a croissant towards you.

“So help me, Astra. If you eat that while I’m tying your corset, I will be forced to resign,” the lady who was nimbly working the delicate ribbon behind you snipped.

“So, resign. I know how to work a corset,” Xavier spoke up even if the words were not directed at him. His voice took on a sharper edge while he spoke to anyone but you, and you could already see the storm clouds filling his lapis blue eyes.

Your eyes met his, giving him a warning glance. His gaze softened as soon as it met yours.

You sighed. It wouldn’t be the first time your dutiful knight has chased off one of your servants.

Your knight gestured the plate again towards you, a bit more stern and rigid with his actions.

You took the croissant from him and took small nibbles to appease him but to also not piss off the woman who could crush your ribs right now.

Seemingly satisfied for now, Xavier speaks up, “What’s on the agenda today, my lady? Shall you try to beat me at cards again? Perhaps, you’ll pick up fencing finally? Or, shall I take you horseback riding?”

“Ah, I apologize, Sir Xavier. I have… official things to dedicate myself to today,” you say gently, tiptoeing around what has actually been planned for today.

You realistically know that Xavier will find out eventually, since he has been sworn to follow you around, but you’re not ready to face what he’ll say about what’s in store for today.

“Oh, official business…” Xavier says, his voice shifting to a lower tone. His eyes slowly wander to the heavy engagement ring that weighs down your finger. He can’t help but feel his jaw clench. “Will we be traveling today..?” he reluctantly asks.

“No, the business will come to us today.” You can already hear in Xavier’s voice that he’s picked up on what’s happening today.

Your betrothed, King Zayne of the fae territory, will be coming for a visit today. Your marriage had long been arranged, since you two were children, but your wedding would be soon.

By fae standards, Zayne was still very young, but his bride was a human, which meant he needed to marry sooner than most fae. He needed to abide by a different timeline. Besides, he had been thrust into a king’s position ever since he was seventeen. His people have lived for far too long without a queen.

Xavier’s body was tense. There was nothing he despised more than pretentious fae lords waltzing into his kingdom, daring to touch his princess.

He could probably look past the fae part, Xavier rationalized. If you and Zayne were truly smitten with one another and in love for the right reasons, he could make himself back off. If it meant you’d be happy…

But Zayne felt love as much as the ice cycles that erupted from his hands felt love. His heart was as cold and solemn as stone.

“When?” he asked, cutting his tone short.

“Soon…” you murmur, hating that Xavier always seemed to get short with you whenever Zayne was the topic of discussion. You had a duty to fulfill to your people…

Your kingdom needed fae assistance. They had a plethora of resources that you could only dream of having. Your people would never have to want for anything if the fae shared their commerce and merchant business with your people.

Your marriage to Zayne would change lives for the better… You had a responsibility to your people, and every royal person knew that loved played no hand in marriage whatsoever.

Your fate was set by Astra himself. There was no point in even trying to deny the inevitable.

Taglist: @theuniversesnepobaby @airandyeah

[talon-the-hawk]

Yandere! Batfam x Neglected Streamer! Reader

Next

Chapter 0: Raid

TW: guns mentioned, drugs mentioned

The men with guns and dogs came to your door on October 29th, when you were only 6 years old.

At first, there was a faint knocking. Mama always told you not to answer the door for strangers, so you hardly paid it any attention. The knocks grew louder and more frequent after a couple of minutes, but that wasn't anything unusual. Lots of people wanted to see your Mama, pounding on the door every hour of the night as she exchanged white powder for cash.

You were in the kitchen, small hands clumsily scribbling on the back of the worn Chinese takeout menu as several men flooded in through the door and past the living room. The screams of sirens came rushing in along with the cold air, and you sat there for a moment before attempting to dart under the table to hide. Of course, they saw you. It was almost impossible not to with the fading neon patterns on your ratty clothes. One of them scooped you up, holding you tight even as you squirmed. They kept asking for your Mama, voices overlapping as they questioned when you had last seen her and where she said she was going. Tears began to build up as the noises seemed to blur together, the loud barking of the dogs as they found drugs in the bedroom mixing with men talking into their walkie-talkies.

The crippling pressure in your chest rose as it all became too much, and soon enough you were sobbing into the man who held you. You hardly felt it as you were handed off to an older man, who wrapped you in his jacket as he cradled you close. Your trembling eventually ceased as he patted your back, whispering soft words in an attempt to calm you down. He brought you outside, minding the cracks in the old pavement as he brought you to the police car. He didn't attempt to take his jacket back, and you held onto it tighter. The fabric was heavy, and warm...definitely more expensive than anything your mom could've afforded. The seats of the car felt luxurious compared to the old wooden chairs in your Mama's house, and you resisted the urge to sink into the leather. The man got in beside you, motioning for cop in front of him to start driving as he explained things to you.

They were looking for your Mama. She was allegedly involved in a major drug smuggling business, with her home becoming a known harbor for illegal substances in exchange for a cut of whatever was made off it. The police had recently gotten a tip about a large shipment coming in, and decided to raid the place a day after it was supposed to have arrived.

You didn't really understand any of what he was saying, but you pretended to as the car pulled up to the station. He finally introduced himself as Jim Gordon, and told you he was going to make an attempt to send you to live with some of your family as the police sorted the whole thing out with your Mama. You were then ushered off to a room with no windows, where men in uniforms asked you all sorts of questions which you answered as best as you could.

No, your Mama never made you do anything you didn't want to.

No, you didn't know where she was.

No, you didn't know who this "Penguin" guy was.

Soon enough they left you alone, where you twiddled your thumbs in silence until Jim came back.

"Well kid...we found someone that you can stay with."

You felt yourself perk up slightly in response.

A family member? You have other family?

As far as you knew, it was only your Mama and you left. She never talked about anyone else, and you kind of just assumed they died before you were born.

"We've contacted your father, Bruce Wayne. He should come by to pick you up soon."

Yeah so uh this has been on the brain for a WHILE. What can I say? The Batman phase has been hitting real hard lately lmao. Lemme know if y'all wanna read more of this, because TRUST I have a plan for it.

[ac1dmeow]

Can we pretty please have one of au powder where shes in love with us instead of ekko? 🥺 PLS

‘ wrapped around your finger ’

powder x female reader.

notes: fluff, established relationship, wlw content, possibly ooc, men dni

sometimes powder catches herself staring at you.

she would have been in the middle of meddling with one of her personal projects, eyes narrowed and nimble fingers straining to screw a pesky tiny nail, until the next thing she knows is she had suddenly turned to look at you sometime in the middle of working. she has no idea how long she had been staring for, watching you sitting beside her just a few feet away, but she jumps when your head lifts and your eyes land on hers.

looking a little panic-stricken, powder twists herself back around, readjusting her hair.

“how’s it comin’ along?” your voice sounds from beside her, making her release a breath and smile gently.

“just have some screws to tighten and light varnishing to apply. after that—should be pretty much complete.” powder finalizes looking down at her project with a proud smile, which makes yours widen. oh how adorable she could be without even trying.

you hum in acknowledgment and drag your stool to get closer to her. the only reason you had been sitting farther away from her in the first place was so she could have the room she needed to work on her things. but now she looks set to take a break, and you’ll steal any moment you can get your hands on to spend time with her.

after getting permission to touch it you pick up the object and turn it around in your hands, looking closely at all of the details and ridges. powder’s creations never fail to impress you, and it makes you admire her more after each and every one she shows you.

“as perfect as all of your other stuff turns out.” you sigh almost dreamily, placing it back down and looking at powder who’s already staring at you with a cautious expression. it softens a little and she shrugs carelessly.

“i wouldn’t use ‘perfect’ to describe my works. but i appreciate it anyhow.” powder says, avoiding your gaze and leaning her arm on the table. you’re brows immediately furrow.

“you should have more confidence in your work. you have a wonderful talent, powder.” you place your hand on her shoulder and lean closer, “show it off with pride.”

you finalize with a kiss to her freckled cheek.

powder’s cheeks heat up as she smiles down at you gratefully. she feels so incredibly lucky to have you in her life as a supportive figure, and you being her girlfriend at the same time just makes it 100 times better.

filled with an affection, powder takes your hand resting on your lap and laces your fingers together, silently raving at the way it sends happy jitters and butterflies in her stomach. her head rests atop yours when you lean it against her shoulder.

“and i mean it, lovely.” you add firmly, making powder chuckle softly.

“thank you. i appreciate it a lot. more than you probably know.”

you huff a laugh through your nose and lift your head to look up at her closely with a cheeky smile. with your free hand you poke her cheek playfully, “oh, you make it known~, don’t worry.” your joke manages to not go over powder’s head, causing her to blush and roll her eyes giggling.

“shut up! you joke about it now, but you’re not laughing once i actually get you wrapped around my finger.” the blue haired girl quips, leaning in close with a smirk and blue eyes filled with something mischievous. that makes your eyes widen—was that… a sexual innuendo? that was almost uncalled for coming from her.

your shoulders bump as you two tease each other back and fourth under your breaths, hushed giggles echoing around the large open space of powder’s private workshop; your bodies subconsciously having gotten closer with hands starting to get curious.

in a moment of silence, your eyes flutter down to powder’s lips. her own doing the same, both of you exchange silent confirmation and slowly close the distance between you.

however unknowingly to both of you, someone is approaching. the sound of footsteps halt and someone clears their throat some 15 feet away.

yours and powder’s lips just barely graze when you both hear the intruder, causing you both to jump away with gasps. at the sight of the third person in the room you’re filled with immense annoyance, peeved at being disrupted.

“sorry to intrude, but, vander sent me to look for you. you’re 20 minutes late to your shift.” ekko’s eyes awkwardly shift around the room before focusing on powder, “you probably don’t wanna keep him waiting much longer…”

you frown. but other the girl is immediately shooting out of her seat and cursing at herself, knocking things over while scrambling to grab her stuff scattered around the area. you grimace and reach out to help her out.

“fuck, he’s gonna be so mad. i’ve never been late before!”

“we can give him an excuse.” ekko calmly suggests in hopes of calming powder down.

“tell ‘im you ate too much cheese and couldn’t leave the bathroom for an hour.” you smirk. ekko chuckles beside you leaning against the railing, shaking his head.

powder only scoffs. “don’t make this a joke.” she grumbles. she stands up straight and tosses her bag over her shoulder, “we need to go now. please.”

she’s already halfway out of the door.

the two of you walk down the busy street with your arm hooked around hers, the warm sunny weather making it feel as though someone lit a candle in your chest and made a lovely home in there. ekko walks alongside you, rambling passionately about his concepts for an upcoming project of his own while you smile in acknowledgment and give your own comments.

you still deeply wish you could have more time of the day to spend with powder, alas she has a job. but so many hangout ideas are swirling in your brain and making you skip in excitement at the thoughts.

next thing you're going to do is sunbathe and go for a swim in the river; a perfect way to celebrate the oncoming summer season.

[aquasoftware]

His baby. ⪩✿⪨

No warnings just Nanami being a dad (fluff) + ML.

Girldad!Kento, who pulls the classic "Go ask your mother." When his daughter wants something but eventually gives in, shaking his head with a slight smile once she brings out the big doe eyes and pleading combo. "I'll see what I can do." He says as he acknowledges her request.

Girldad!Kento, who supports his daughter's little dreams and gives her wads of cash to start her snack business at school, then once she quickly sells out, she finds hidden colorful sticky notes at the bottom in her big tote bag telling her how proud he is.

Girldad!Kento, who teaches his daughter how to save money when he finds out she spent most of her earnings on Doordash and Roblox.

Girldad!Kento, who covers his red face in embarrassment when his daughter dolls him up for a tea party, wearing a comically large powder pink tutu paired with a plastic silver crown as she records tik-toks forcing his two left feet to dance.

Girldad!Kento, who proudly wears his daughter's homemade bracelets that she made from a gifted hobby lobby bracelet kit to work anytime he gets handed a new one, not at all caring about the idiotic snickers he gets from his co-workers. Kento's favorite bracelet that he'll forever keep safe is one that has lettered black and white charms saying "Best dad."

Girldad!Kento, who never gets tired of the crafted macaroni gifts, whether it's on a card for his birthday, a picture frame for Christmas, or a macaroni necklace for Father's Day to him, it's always the thought that counts.

Girldad!Kento, who gets spoiled by his wife and his daughter, receiving two packed lunches for work. He was intensely observant of his daughter's latest interest, which this time became those junior cooking shows eager to try out a new recipe. Yet although it wasn't the best tasting food in the world, he still scarfed down his daughter's cooking as if it were his last meal.

Girldad!Kento, who awakens to the horrified cries of his precious child, begging "Papa, there's a monster in my room; can I sleep with you and mama tonight...?" He couldn't deny that, swiftly enough you both accepted her with open arms in your shared bed.

Girldad!Kento, who encourages his child to do a sport, feeling his heart melt as his little girl picks ballet.

Girldad!Kento, who spam calls you while you're at work so you can guide him through doing makeup for her ballet recitals. "That's the last step? Okay, I promise I'll get some videos for you, honey!" He reassures you, understanding that you don't want to miss a moment.

Girldad!Kento, who humiliates his poor daughter at the recital jumping up and screaming "That's my baby!"

Girldad!Kento, who never misses a PTA meeting or a parent-teacher conference meeting.

Girldad!Kento, who knew no amount of pep talks from you could prepare him for his baby getting her first period, halfway panicking in Walgreens, snatching up every sanitary napkin possible as soon as he got the text, picking her up from school early due to how bad it got getting her favorite comfort food to cheer her up afterwards.

Girldad!Kento, whose heart absolutely shattered hearing the sentence "Papa, I'm way too old for dolls now." What did she mean she was ready to give up Monster High and Barbie's? The saddened blonde refused to let his baby grow up even though he knew he had to.

Girldad!Kento, who almost sheds a tear when he finds out other cruel kids have been picking on her, calling her ugly, so instead of a typical lecture, he gave a warm embrace reminding her how beautiful she is.

Girldad!Kento, who will sob his eyes out at every single graduation, including elementary, middle, high-school, and soon eventually college, needing at least five boxes of tissues to himself at her middle school graduation, not even being able to fathom how he'd handle her high school graduation.

Girldad!Kento, who loves his daughter unconditionally.

8/28/24 11:59pm

[perfectyeager]

homie brother hopper! | z.yeager

zeke yeager x fem!reader

!!: SMUT, vaginal sex, fingering, praise, slight degradation, zeke has a size kink, big dick!zeke, multiple orgasms, creampie, zeke’s been pining lol, use of pet names such as little one, baby, babe, slut, etc, use of Y/N, use of the word ‘daddy’, mention of eren x reader.

SYNOPSIS; you’re so sad after your boyfriend, eren, dumps you out of no-where, but you know his older brother is the only person who understands you and can make you feel better!

Knock, knock, knock!

Zeke furrowed his eyebrows at the sudden noise at his apartment door—he definitely wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour and in the horrific rain that poured outside. Glancing down at his watch as he approached the door, midnight shon back up at him. Who on Earth was at his door at this time of night?

“Who is it?” He called out, his voice low and intimidating, expecting anyone dangerous to soon flee at the sound of his gruff voice.

“Z-Zeke?”

The sound of your whimpering voice forced an eyebrow to shoot up on his face as he slid the lock open and pulled the door open.

And what a sight for sore eyes welcomed him as he did so.

His little brother, Eren’s, girlfriend was stood before him—hair soaked from the rain, dress see through and stuck to your shivering skin, eyes red and swollen as you pouted, sniffling loudly.

Zeke couldn’t help but smile as he leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms against his chest as he eyed you up and down.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Can I come in, please?” You ignored his question, eyes peering up at him from where you stood so small compared to him, a desperate yet disappointed look on your face.

Zeke knew he’d probably get in trouble for this considering you were his little brother’s girlfriend, but he swung the door open wider for you to enter, watching as you shuffled quietly inside his apartment.

You stood awkwardly in his living room, unsure on whether to place your damp body on his couch as you dripped droplets onto his carpet.

“‘M sorry for coming unannounced.” You squeaked out, your voice shaky as he stared at you intently, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Zeke cocked his head at your words—was Eren not one of those people? His mind worked rapidly as he attempted to figure you out as you shivered heavily, your teeth chattering loudly.

“Wait there.”

You did as you were told—not moving a muscle as Zeke exited your view, padding towards his room. The room fell silent as you eyed up your surroundings—you’d only ever been to Zeke’s apartment a handful of times with Eren when they wanted to hang out, but you enjoyed being here. Zeke kept everywhere neat and tidy in his space, unlike Eren’s messy and disorganised apartment which stunk of weed and smoke, unlike the fresh, baby powder smell and expensive cologne that rang through the room.

“Here.”

You jumped, not expecting the tall blonde to have returned so quickly as you pondered. Zeke stared down at you with a small smile as he extended a large, white, fluffy towel towards your shaking frame.

Sighing happily, you accepted his offer and wrapped the warm material around your body, relief filling your system at the change of temperature.

“And a shirt and some sweats I found. They’ll be massive on you but better that than what you’re in currently.” Zeke joked, placing the pile of clothes on his coffee table next to you.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, as your eyes flicked from the clothes to your brother-in-law, “Will you turn around for me?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, of course.” Zeke rotated his body, now facing his kitchen as you giggled.

You slipped the wet dress from your cold body, along with your bra and panties, feeling suddenly embarrassed that you were now naked in your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s apartment in the middle of the night.

Unbeknownst to you due to your naiveness to the layout of Zeke’s apartment, the kitchen window provided a perfect mirror in the dark night to which your naked frame could be seen. Luckily for you, only an outline of your nakedness could be seen, for if it could’ve, Zeke’s cock would’ve grown fully hard, now only resting half-hard and twitching at the sight.

“You can turn around now.” You informed him, Zeke doing as he was told, his eyes falling on your frame being drowned by his clothes, “Thank you, again.”

Zeke shushed you, “It’s no problem at all—anything for my little brother’s girl.”

The mention of Eren sent a pang of sadness to your chest as you were sorely reminded of the horrible evening you just had. Your lip wobbled, eyes brimming with tears as thoughts of your day clouding your mind.

Zeke didn’t take your sudden silence unnoticed—he eyed you up as he watched as a single tear. slipped from your eyes. Your hands flew to your face, covering it as you sighed loudly into your palms, taking a seat on his couch abruptly.

Zeke debated just staying where he was—but, he couldn’t leave a pretty girl on his couch in distress.

He took a firm seat next to you—arm resting on the back of the couch as he got comfy, admiring your hunched over frame, “Talk to me.”

The comforting words shot straight through your heart as it thumped against your chest, suddenly feeling ready to rant away as he confirmed his willingness to listen.

“He dumped me.”

The words shocked Zeke as they left your wobbling lips. He knew his little brother was prone to playing around with girls for his personal gain, but you were only one to last this long—a year to be exact. He truly thought Eren had fallen for you—he changed for you; took you on dates, bought you flowers, paid for your expenses like your nail and hair appointments, took care of you like a proper boyfriend. Something he’d never done for other girls—but, now he had you acting like all the others.

“Oh, Y/N.” Zeke mumbled, “I really am sorry.”

He hated the way he felt like he was lying. Zeke had always liked you the most—more than any other girl Eren was entertaining. You were by far the most beautiful, and sweet, too, which made you more desirable than some of the other nasty bitches Eren had introduced to him. You were loyal, caring and extremely loveable—but, ready to protect your man no matter what the cost. Zeke also loved the way you would do absolutely anything for his brother, which by extension, meant him, too. He’ll never forget on his birthday, when Eren dropped by to give Zeke his gifts, you were there too.

“Happy Birthday, Zeke!” You exclaimed, a pretty smile on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck, on your tip-toes as you hugged him.

Your hug took Zeke by surprise, his hands reluctantly snaking around your waist to return the hug, trying to ignore the way your breasts pressed perfectly against his chest as a waft of your delicious perfume hit his nose.

“Let the man breathe, babe.” Eren’s low voice from the couch forced you back to your normal height, an embarrassed blush spread across your cheeks.

“Sorry, Zeke.” You mumbled, toying with the hem of your skimpy, short dress.

“‘S alright—come on in.”

You did as he told you and shuffled inside the apartment, taking a seat next to Eren, on the edge of the couch. Zeke noticed you always did this—whether you were in the comfort of your own apartment, at a party with them both or even at a restaurant—you always stayed perched on the edge of your seat, almost begging to be asked to assist your boyfriend. So desperate to care for him and do anything he asked of you—it made Zeke admire you so much more.

“Y/N, grab me and Zeke a beer, will you?” Eren asked, planting a loving hand to your thigh before you shot up from your seat, heading towards the kitchen.

“‘S okay, I’ll grab ‘em—I’m up anyways.” Zeke decided.

“No, don’t worry, Zeke, I’ll get them for you.” You beamed up at him as you walked past him, the smell of your fruity shampoo filling his nose, inciting a twitch in his cock in his suddenly tight boxers.

Zeke sighed breathily as he took a seat next to his brother as he flicked between channels, settling on a sports game he couldn’t focus on as he watched you pop two beers open with your teeth—the simple act bringing a bead of aroused sweat to his forehead.

“There ya go, baby.” You spoke, handing your boyfriend his beer as his eyes stayed fixated on the TV, offering you a quick ‘Thanks’, before you turned to him, “And for the birthday boy.”

“Thanks, Y/N. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

Jesus.

Your obedience must make Eren feral—he loved that in a girl. Clearly it ran in the family as Zeke was biting his lip in order to stop himself getting so hard he’d have to kick his brother out the room and get himself in trouble.

Zeke snapped back into reality, pushing the memories of his birthday to back of his mind as he eyed you.

Your silence pushed him to speak more, “Did he say why?”

You scoffed, lifting your head from your hands, “Apparently I’m too needy. What a joke!” You exclaimed, “He said he needs space and that I need to leave him alone for a while.” You laugh angrily, “Personally, I think it’s just an excuse to go fuck someone else.”

Zeke didn’t want to lie to you—but, you were probably right. Eren probably got cold feet at how far you’d gotten in your relationship that he kicked back into his old ways by default—a creature of habit, as they say.

“Unfortunately, Eren’s always been this way.” Zeke explained, lolling his head to the side, “But, you’re different, Y/N, I can tell. He’ll come running back once he’s realised he’s being an asshole.”

You giggled at his insults, “Yeah, he sure is an asshole.” You fell silent once again, your face dropping back to a frown, “Do you think he’s fucking anyone else?”

Zeke pursed his lips into a line, unsure of what to do. He didn’t know whether to shield your good heart from the harsh truth or be honest with you.

He sighed loudly, pulling his glasses off his face, rubbing the frames on his shirt, and placing them back on the bridge of his nose in silence, “No, I don’t.”

You frowned further, turning to face him with a pout, “You hesitated, Zeke. Please don’t lie to me.”

Now, Zeke didn’t know for certain Eren was sleeping with anyone else. But, due to his previous actions, he knew it wasn’t unlikely.

You pouted further at his silence—feeling suddenly nervous. On the other hand, Zeke tried to contain his smirk at your face, he loved you like that. All pouty and sad—you looked so cute when you were upset.

“I’m not, little one,” He informed you, reaching up to pull on your bottom lip; the nickname raising a blush to your face as you smiled against his fingers, “There’s that pretty smile—that’s what I like to see.” His words forced your smile to widen, “I don’t wanna see these pouting again, okay?” He told you, swiping his thumb across your lips.

“Yes, Zeke.”

Your willingness to be so obedient pushed the tent in his trousers to grow even bigger than when he was pervertedly watching you through the window.

“Come here.” Zeke whispered, opening his arms wide, “Come give your brother-in-law a hug.”

You bit back from telling him that he was no longer your brother-in-law, but you didn’t care anymore, only retreating from the edge of the couch and into Zeke’s side, snuggling your head into his chest as you curled up into a ball next to him. His hands wrapped around you, one rubbing your arm comfortingly, and the other playing with your wet locks, twirling it around his fingers playfully, which he knew you loved.

So much so, that you let out a relaxed moan, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling, snuggling deeper into him, your manicured hands resting gently on his t-shirt. Zeke mentally cursed himself as his eyes rolled back at the sound of your enjoyment—your quiet moans and hums of pleasure filling his ears.

“Oh, Zeke, that feels so good,” You whispered as his fingers scratched at your scalp, the seemingly innocent words of praise you gave him sending shockwaves of arousal to his cock as it twitched desperately in his boxers, begging to be dealt with.

“Yeah? You like that?” He was almost teasing himself by adding another sexual innuendo to the mix, continuing to scratch your head, his fingers curled in your hair.

“Mmm, yeah. So good, baby.”

Your eyes shot open at the nickname that left your mouth unwillingly. You gasped quietly as his hands fell from your hair, now resting so close to your ass as you sat up, hands covering your mouth in shock, trying to ignore the way he smirked devilishly.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said that.” You mumbled against your warm skin, swallowing thickly.

Zeke chuckled, pressing a large hand on your back, rubbing his hand up and down the soft surface, “‘S alright. I didn’t mind it.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words—he didn’t mind it? At you calling him ‘baby’? You cocked an eyebrow at him, lolling your head to the side in confusion.

“Come on, Y/N. You can’t be that oblivious?”

Zeke’s words rang loudly in your head as his big hands trailed around your body, pulling you back closer to him, one now resting on the comforts of your clothed thigh.

“W-What do you mean?” You questioned, nearly trembling at the anticipation as his palm trailed your thigh dangerously slow, your chest rising and falling quicker than you’d care for.

“You know,” His voice was low and gruff, even his whisper sounding manly, “You’ve always been my favourite girl he’s ever been with.”

Your thighs instinctively rubbed together at the praise, crushing his hand in the process, bringing his attention towards your need for friction. Zeke couldn’t help but smirk at your poor attempt at some action, chuckling lowly as he pushed your legs open.

“He’s so mean, isn’t he? Leaving you all lonely and desperate for some love, hm?” Zeke spoke, running a teasing finger up and down the inside of your thigh, testing the waters, as he peered over the tops of his glasses down at you.

Your pearly white teeth were sunk deeply into your bottom lip, once jutting out in sadness, now sucked into your pretty little mouth in excitement as you nodded up at him. One of your hands gripped the side of his shirt as his thick fingers teased you.

“Zeke, please.”

Your desperate, whiny voice shot a spark of arousal between Zeke’s legs, his mouth falling slightly slack-jawed as he eyed your face—your eyebrows twitching in anticipation.

“Please what, little one?”

“Please touch me, Zeke, please, wanna feel you.” Your pleas of pleasure were enough for Zeke to push his joggers off your body and to the floor, pushing your exposed legs open, revealing your bare pussy—slick and throbbing as his hand hovered over you.

He wasted no time in sliding his fingers between your folds, a small gasp pushing past your lips as you both eyed his fingers gathering slick on his digits. Before he killed you from anticipation, he slipped two long fingers into your hole, revelling in the way you whined loudly. His fingers soon picked up a pace as he hummed happily to himself at the feeling of your ever-growing slick collecting at the base of his fingers and dripping down his knuckles.

“You’re so wet, little one, all from one touch? So fucking slutty.”

The derogatory term only forcing a blush onto your cheeks as Zeke hit the spongy sweet spot inside you that had you moaning his name in the air, arching your back off the couch. Zeke pushed your leg, repositioning you so your back rested against his chest, as he pushed his shirt up your body, revealing your perky breasts.

You couldn’t help but mewl out loud, your body writhing on top of him as he curled his fingers inside you, abusing your G-spot, as his other hand pulled and palmed your nipples, adding to the intense pleasure that surged through your body. Zeke released his fingers from your twitching cunt, ignoring your huff of disappointment, only to be replaced with a cry of pleasure as he strummed your clit feverishly.

It only took a dozen seconds before the coil in your stomach twisted and turned in excitement. ready to snap, “Z-Zeke, ‘m close!”

“Already? You really did need your brother-in-law to make you feel better, huh?” He teased, his voice as slick as satin in your ear as your hole clenched around nothing.

“Mhm, needed you, Zeke, need you to make me cum!” You whined, lolling your head back on his shoulder, panting like a bitch in heat.

“If my little brother hadn’t broken your little heart tonight, I would make you earn the right to cum on my fingers.” He whispered, his beard tickling your ear as goosebumps rose on your skin, “But, since you’re such a desperate little slut who needs some love, I’ll let you cum just this once.”

Your toes curled as you could almost taste your orgasm, stars forming in your eyes as you neared your finish, “Yes, yes, yes, please, Zeke, please, daddy!”

“Oh, daddy, now, am I?” He chuckled, adding extra pressure to your clit as he rubbed concentrated circles to your throbbing nub, “You dirty girl.”

His filthy words were enough to send you over the edge—Zeke having to hold you against his warm body as you twitched and writhed as your orgasm thrashed you around, your whole body consumed with pleasure as you creamed for him, crying his name out loud.

Zeke didn’t fuck around when it came to a pretty girl cumming for him—before you’d even finished cumming he was pushing his joggers down to his ankles and rolling you onto your back, whimpering and crying for him.

You soon whined in annoyance as his fingers slid back inside your creamy sex, huffing and puffing in disappointment. Pulling on his waistband, you fucked yourself on his fingers, trying to quicken your pace as he scissored his fingers inside you.

“Gotta stretch you out, baby.” He informed you, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he held your legs apart, “Gotta make sure I don’t ruin you.”

“But, what if I want you to?”

Fucking hell.

Zeke could’ve cum from your words as he bit back a groan of excitement, his cock practically begging to be touched.

“Please, Zeke, wanna feel you so bad. Want you to fill me up, better than he can.”

That was enough for Zeke. He pulled his achingly hard cock from his boxers, tip angry and red and leaking pre-cum—he was so fucking horny he couldn’t see straight.

You were in awe at the sight of his dick—so long, and thick, you were sure he was twice the size of Eren. Eren was big, sure, but Zeke was huge. No wonder he wanted to prep you.

“Not regretting turning down my offer to stretch you now, are you?” He teased, prodding his tip at your entrance as he gathered your slick over his length, jerking it over himself, as you ogled at his cock.

You shook your head, your heart thudding in your ears as Zeke pushed his glasses up his nose before pushing your legs further apart, in a V-shape, before pushing his tip past your thick lips. Strings of curses and moans left your lips as he pushed further inside you—his cock moulding your walls to the perfect fit as he bullied his way towards your cervix.

“So fuckin’ tight, shit. Let me in, little one.”

His hips reached your ass as you heaved, your eyes squeezed shut when he bottomed out. Zeke swallowed thickly, his dick twitching as you clenched around him. He’d never felt pussy this tight and wet before—a memory of Eren telling him how good your pussy was filled his head.

Zeke slowly pulled out of you, only his mushroom-headed tip staying inside you as you whined at the loss of fullness, before he snapped his hips forward—filling you back up again with a grunt. He let go of your legs briefly, letting them fall, before you wrapped them around his waist, pushing him further into you using your heel. The sound of your needy whines and cries of his name, along with the slapping of his already tightening balls against your ass filled the room.

“So full of you, Zeke!” You cried, your nails dragging down his back as his tip kissed your cervix with each stroke, earning a groan into your shoulder as he licked and sucked at the skin of your neck, “‘S so fucking big!”

“Yeah, take it, baby, take my big cock like the good sister-in-law you are.” Zeke whined into your neck, licking a stripe up to your ear lobe, “Such a good girl.”

Zeke couldn’t believe he was doing this. The distant thought of his little brother pushed to the back of his mind as you squeezed him so perfectly and moaned his name like your life depended on it.

“Jesus Christ,” He mumbled as he sat up, his pace never faltering as he pushed a large hand on your tummy, groaning at the way he felt his fat cock ramming you through your warm skin, “So fucking little compared to my big cock, huh? Your little pussy’s struggling to take me, isn’t she?”

You nodded frantically—tears pouring from your eyes, now from pure pleasure instead of sadness, “Mhmm, but—aah! but, she loves your f-fucking big dick, daddy!”

You were fucking insatiable—so greedy for cock it made him so unbelievably hard. He panted heavily as he pulled one of your legs over his shoulder, deepening his stroke, upping your moans another octave as you were practically screaming at his pace.

“Fucking needed this little pussy for so long.” He admitted, feeling his orgasm approaching quicker than any other girl he had sex with. Your tight pussy and fucked out face pushing him over the edge.

He reached between your bodies, his fingers crawling down your stomach to your folds, rubbing circles against your clit. Your moans picked up again, throwing your head back against the couch, your nails digging into his back even further, stirring Zeke on.

“‘M so close!” You cried, threading your fingers through his blonde hair as you pressed your hot, sticky from sweat tits against his heaving chest as he abused your sensitive nub.

“I know, baby, come on. Give to me, give it to daddy.” He purred, pressing hot-mouthed pecks to your lips as you whimpered against his mouth.

“Always loved you Zeke—mhm! Always wanted you inside me.” You cried as your second orgasm of the night hit you like a truck, your back arching into him as you came, “Always thought about you when he fucked me!”

Zeke couldn’t hold on any longer—the sound of you admitting you loved him and that you thought of him while Eren fucked you had him spilling himself inside you. He collapsed slightly on top of you, holding himself up slightly on his elbows as his pace slowed down ever so slightly as he groaned loudly, panting like a dog as he pushed his load deeper inside you, ruining your pussy into a sloppy mess just as you asked.

You both panted against one another, the smell of sex clouding the air as you swallowed thickly, a blush forming on your face as the memories of the past half hour flooded your brain.

Zeke was first to move as he slowly slipped his softening cock from your twitching walls, a rim of white, milky mess coating his cock. He watched with a smile as his cum dribbled from your entrance onto his couch—he couldn’t even bring himself to care as his eyes landed on your perfect body; sweaty, hair still wet yet messy, flushed cheeks and a cum-filled pussy all just for him.

“Come on, little one.” He tapped your thigh, eliciting a jump of surprise from your weak body, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Zeke fulfilled his older brother-in-law duties as he cleaned your tired body, wiping the sweat and cum from your body as you slumped against him in the bathroom while he pressed loving kisses to any part of your body he could. He dressed you in his attire once again, only managing to get his t-shirt over your body as you refused to lift your aching legs, earning a laugh of pride from Zeke as his ego etched further up the scale.

Knock, knock, knock!

Zeke furrowed his eyebrows from the couch, like he did a few hours prior at your presence at the door as you cuddled up next to him. Zeke, now smirking at the idea that crept up into his brain, looked down at you.

“Would you get the door for me, little one?” He asked, testing your obedience, like his brother once did.

You shot up abruptly, your ass flashing him from underneath the large t-shirt as you edged towards the door, attempting to flatten your frizzy hair as Zeke chuckled at you as you opened the door.

“Hey, bro, I need to talk to you, me and Y/N broke—Y/N?”

Your eyes widened as you stood before your ex-boyfriend, a confused and shocked expression plastered on your face as your half-naked body, messy hair and hickey-covered neck greeted him like a fat slap in the face.

Zeke stood up from the couch, sauntering to the door, “Hey, little brother!” He waved, smiling happily despite the situation at hand, already chuckling at the joke he was about to make, “You know Y/N, right?”

i heart the yeager brothers

[fatecantstopme]

Spell Bound

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies

"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.

You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.

He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.

"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."

"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."

You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."

"You think?"

You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.

About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.

"I think I found it," you said aloud.

At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.

You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"

"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."

"Seriously?"

He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."

You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."

He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."

You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."

He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.

"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."

Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.

"Dean?" you asked tentatively.

"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."

"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"

He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.

You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.

"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.

Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"

You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"

Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"

"You can smell my skin?"

He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"

"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."

You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"

"What?"

"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."

"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."

You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.

"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.

You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.

"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.

"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."

Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.

"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"

Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."

"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."

"It's called what?"

"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."

"Die? Is there a cure?"

You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.

"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."

"I have to what?"

"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."

"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"

"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."

"How long do I have?"

You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.

"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.

"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."

Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.

"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.

"Shit."

"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.

"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"

"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

"Another story?"

"It could take a lot longer."

"Great," you mumbled.

"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.

"Dean?" you questioned softly.

"Just drive, (Y/N)."

You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.

Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.

"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.

You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."

He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."

You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."

He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."

"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."

You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.

"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.

Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.

"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."

His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."

"It's alright...use me."

He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."

You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."

That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.

He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.

His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.

He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.

A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.

He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."

You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."

He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.

You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.

Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.

His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.

"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.

You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.

"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."

You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.

"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."

Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.

His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.

You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"

He shook his head. "Need more."

He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.

He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.

Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.

"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.

He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.

Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.

You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.

After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.

You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.

It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.

You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.

Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.

When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.

"Better?" you whispered.

He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.

His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.

Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.

His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.

His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.

His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.

You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.

Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.

When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.

Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.

He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.

You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.

You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.

To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.

"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.

His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.

"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.

He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.

This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.

"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.

You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."

You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."

He groaned. "Yes ma'am."

He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.

"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."

You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.

"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.

You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.

"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"

You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."

Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.

He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.

He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.

"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.

He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.

His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.

Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."

You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."

His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"

You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.

"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"

You nodded again.

"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."

Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.

The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.

He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.

He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.

You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.

Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.

You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.

"A little," you said honestly.

He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."

You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."

There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.

"Shower?" he asked softly.

"I honestly don't think I can stand."

A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."

You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.

He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.

"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.

He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.

You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.

You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.

Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.

You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?

As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."

"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.

Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.

"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."

Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."

"But--"

He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."

Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...

Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.

"Umm...whatcha doing?"

"Taking a bath."

"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"

You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.

Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.

"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"

"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."

He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"

"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."

"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.

He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."

"Then what are you trying to say?"

He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"

You nodded.

"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."

"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.

He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"

You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.

He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."

Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.

"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."

"You--you love me?"

"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."

"You're in love--with me?"

He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."

"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.

"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.

You nodded slowly.

"And?"

"I'm in love with you too."

He grinned widely. "Yeah?"

You nodded, cheeks turning red.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.

"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.

"Mhmm," you hummed.

He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."

"But I'm comfortable," you whined.

He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"

You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."

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[sheerfreesia007]

Domestic Bliss

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Word count: 1,503

Content warnings: Soft smut, MDNI, Fluff

Summary: Changbin comes home to find you preparing his post workout routine for him so that he doesn’t have to worry about it. The care that you give in these simple domestic moments absolutely drives him wild for you.

Jagi: Sweetheart

You’re sat at your dinning room table working on a last minute project for work that had given you some issues during the week and needed to be done by the time you walk into the office on Monday morning. Your eyes dart over to the digital clock on the stove as if they were a moth drawn to a flame and you saw how close it was getting to the time that Changbin would be home from his morning workout. Standing from your chair you stretch your arms out to either side of your body and hum softly as you feel and hear your joints pop and click after sitting for so long You then move into the kitchen and open the cabinet that holds all of Changbin’s workout bottles and chose the bright neon pink one you bought him last year for his post workout drink. You had been delighted when you found it because it was the exact shade of pink as Dwaekki is and Changbin had noticed that as well when you gifted it to him. He had loved it and told you that he would cherish the bottle and think of you when he used it.

You grab his post workout mix and dump one scoop into the bottle before filling it up with water and begin to the shake it so that the powder mixes with the water well. While still shaking the bottle in one hand you grab a banana from the large wooden bowl on the counter and begin setting it out for him to grab once he gets home. But just as you finish mixing his drink you startle violently as warm muscular arms slide around your waist and a broad muscular chest presses to your back. Changbin’s lips press to the skin behind your ear and you shiver before melting back into him.

”What’s this? Is my little miss preparing my post workout routine for me?” He asks huskily and his low tone makes your whole body shiver once more in his arms. He chuckles softly into your ear before he’s helping you set down the bottle and banana before he spins you in arms to face him. “You take such good care of me little miss.” He coos at you as his hands come up to cup your face and tilt it up for him as he mouth descends on yours. You hum softly into the kiss and let your mouth fall open for him in desire as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip. Changbin groans against your mouth as your lips move lazily with his while your hands slide up his chest feeling the warmth radiating from his muscles.

He crowds you up against the counter as his hips press flush with yours and you whimper as you feel how hard he’s gotten just from watching you prepare his post workout routine. He always did love when you were domestic for him, it made him a little wild for you to watch you take care of him in little ways like this. He had once confessed to you that it always flipped a switch in his brain that he needed to lock you down for him whenever you did something like this and he brain usually went to the gutter with ways to lock you down for him. Like now, as you felt him grind himself against you while absolutely devouring your mouth.

His hands slide down from your face to the hem of shirt at your lower stomach and slips his fingers underneath the fabric to skim against your skin. You shiver against his touch while humming into his mouth before you shifting closer to him so that he can touch more confidently. After he’s had his fill of light touches he’s dragging your shirt up and over your head before flinging it to the ground. His hands slide slowly up your stomach until their’ cupping your naked breasts while he groans at the warmth of your naked skin.

”No bra?” He whispers against your mouth and you smirk up at him softly.

”It’s the weekend and we have no plans to go out.” You say back to him before he dives back into your lips. His hands are strong as they cup and knead at your breasts and you’re turning into a whimpering mess against him. Your hips are mindlessly grinding against his as you grip his shoulders to keep yourself grounded as he plays with you. “Changbin please. I need you.” You whine at him and Changbin gives you a cocky grin in response before his hands fall from your breasts and guide your pajama pants down your body.

When you’re completely bare to him he ducks down slightly while sliding his hands up the back of your thighs and lifts you easily up his body, your arms come to wrap around his neck and you beam down at him as you feel how strong he is as he holds you up. He gently eases you onto the counter before he’s slipping his baggy shorts down just past his ass so that his hardness comes into view and you moan wantonly at the sight. Your hand moves down to grip him firmly and Changbin moans loudly as his hips buck up into your hand a few times taking pleasure from you before he’s stepping closer between your parted thighs.

You guide him towards your entrance and when he slips in slightly you cry out with pleasure as your head falls back against the cabinets. He’s always so thick and stretches you out around him so sensually, he’s always been so careful with you never wanting to hurt you and you love him all the more for that care that he gives you. He gives shallow thrusts until you’re grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him into a hot wet open mouthed kiss as you whine for more. 

Changbin steadily eases more of himself into you until you grip him tightly and he knows to stop and shallowly thrust into you to work you open for him. He truly loves taking his time with you and loving you exactly how you deserve. You take care of him in every sense of the word and he strives to do the same for you and he likes to think that when he’s between you’re thighs it’s when he’s able to give you the utmost care. The two of you are no longer kissing as your mouths just stay pressed together as you both pant breaths in each other’s mouth. Both of you have lost all thoughts in your head and are only enjoying the pleasure that you give each other.

When he slides all the way into you finally your back arches so prettily for him that he can’t help but slide his mouth onto one of your presented breasts. You cry out loudly as your hands cup the sides of his head and hold him there against as if he would ever leave you willingly. His hips are canting upward into you at a deep slow heavy pace while his mouth laves at your nipples and you’re drowning in your pleasure. Your walls are gripping him so tightly as your orgasm starts to rise like a high wave ready to drag you under the swells of it.

”Bin, Binnie. Oh god, Binnie!” You moan out as your orgasm flows over you and your body arches agaisnt the cabinets as your body seizes and then begins to shake around him at the how powerful your high is. Changbin whines needily against your breasts as his orgasm drags him under and he’s releasing into you with so much power that it stuns the both of you.

You both slowly come down from your highs gasping for breath as you both gaze into each other’s eyes lovingly. Your hands are back cupping his face tilting it up towards you as you duck your head and capture his lips in a loving kiss. Changbin wraps his arms low around your hips and drags you firmly into his chest before his hands are gripping your ass and he’s pulling you off the counter while still kissing you. He then begins to walk towards the hallway that leads to your shared bedroom and bathroom while still holding you.

”Bin!” You cry out surprised that he’s still firmly seated within you as he walks you down the hallway.

”We need to shower, we’ve both worked up a sweat.” He says cockily and you giggle softly at him while rolling your eyes at his bold confidence.

”You just want to see me all wet and soaped up.” You tease and he grins wickedly up at you.

”Yah, Jagi. Every day of my life I do.” He says teasingly and adoringly as you hug him around his neck as he walks you into the bathroom no doubt wanting a second round to dirty you up some more.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

@channiesrightasscheek

[aegonstradwife]

long nights | tom glynn-carney x reader

summary: you and tom are costars, who have to share an intimate scene together. afterward, you go out for drinks to unwind. and after that? it's anyone's guess.

warnings: drinking, friends to lovers, smut. (tipsy sex, oral, fingering, squirting.)

a. note: first thing i've written in a while. please be kind.

Nerves are already eating away at you as you approach Tom's trailer. Unsure what you're looking for, you rap on the door. Reassurance? Comfort? The director to jump out and shout, surprise!, the scene has been scrapped? Maybe all three?

Tom's smiling face appears as he opens the door for you, gesturing for you to join him inside. "Hey. You ready for this?"

You greet Tom with a smile as well, albeit one much more nervous than his, and step past him into his trailer. "Hey. I mean.... as ready I can be? You?"

You take a seat beside him; though you're finished for now, clad in a fluffy robe supplied to you by the crew, Tom still has a few more minutes of makeup left. Underneath your robe, you have only a skimpy nude-colored outfit on in preparation for the scene that has you so worked up.

Tom's gaze flickers to that robe, obviously wondering what's underneath. You're too busy plucking nervously at your own fingernails to notice, and when you finally glance up at him, he quickly composes himself and nods.

"Yeah, I think so. Well, as ready as I can be too, I guess." He picks up his script, fiddling with it as he watches the makeup artist put the finishing touches on his face. "This scene is going to be.... awkward, probably."

The way he says it causes a dead weight to settle in the pit of your stomach.

The artist currently dusting powder on Tom's cheeks pipes up, though, with, "Oh, don't worry too much about it, you two will be just fine!"

As she retreats, giving Tom the okay to leave, you roll your eyes and sigh, "Easy for her to say," as you hold the door open for him to follow you out.

He chuckles nervously, right behind you as you make your way to set.

The crew has done an excellent job of transforming a standard sound stage into a comfortable bedroom. Two chairs are set up beside a large bed and lights shine down on the room, already hot from the heat of the bulbs.

Tom swallows heavily as the two of you approach and the director motions for both of you to take your places on the bed.

Tom motions for you to climb on, muttering, "Ladies first," and you oblige with a stifled sort of laugh, disrobing and lying back. As he crawls over you, you try to make yourself as comfy as possible beneath him.

"You alright?" He queries softly.

Though you notice his gaze roaving over your mostly naked form, you try not to read too much into it - a half-nude woman could lie underneath any man and it probably wouldn't matter much what she looked like; he's probably going to stare no matter what.

You nod spastically, throat having suddenly closed up with embarrassment and nerves.

He nods back at you, trying to give you a reassuring smile. He props himself up on his elbows above you, trying to ignore the fact that he can feel your body heat through the very small gap between his body and yours.

The director calls for quiet on the set and it isn't long before a loud "Action!" follows.

All in all, the scene isn't painful - with someone like Tom, it can't be. He's so patient and sweet, putting you at ease and cracking jokes whenever the director yells cut.

It's becoming increasingly hard to ignore your own arousal, however, with Tom's bare, toned chest inches from your own and his soft lips searing against yours with every cry of 'action!'

Eventually, the intimacy coordinator calls an end to this particular scene for the day and as you move to roll off the bed, you can't help but notice that Tom is hard. He's wearing a flimsy little piece of flesh-colored cloth that barely covers his lower half, same as you, and it's making it very difficult to ignore what's going on down there.

Tom, however, rolls off of you quickly, trying to hide his erection and avoid drawing your attention to it. Despite his best efforts, it's still very obvious to you, and the way you blush as he looks at you isn't helping any.

You clear your throat anxiously, scampering off the bed after Tom and slipping gratefully back into your robe.

Tom is scrambling to his own feet, quickly grabbing for his robe and tying it around his waist as he watches you with a mixture of embarrassment and - desire?

The crew has begun to disperse, but Tom hesitates for a moment as he stares at you. He clearly wants to say something, but it seems he's not quite sure what. Instead, he stands there in uncomfortable silence, watching you as you fidget with the tie on your own robe.

You shoot him a small smile from across the room. "Not too bad, huh?"

He chuckles softly, returning your smile with a small, somewhat bashful, one of his own.

"Yeah, not too bad."

He sighs, raking a hand through his already-mussed hair and avoiding your gaze. He doesn't know how to bring up what just happened without feeling like an absolute creep.

"Hey.... listen. Erm, this...." He waves a hand down near his waist. "That was just.... I mean, I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?"

God, how could he ever make you uncomfortable?

"No, no, not at all." You wave a hand, completely dismissing the idea while also trying to find a way to tell him you're actually flattered. "It was.... fun. You made it fun."

His shoulders relax slightly at your words, as though flooded with relief. But there's still obviously a part of him that's worried that he messed up.

"Good, that's.... that's good."

He rubs his jaw, avoiding your gaze and looking anywhere but directly at you.

"And.... you're not upset at me for...."

He gestures downward again.

You laugh lightly, tying your robe tight together. "Tom, everything's okay. It was a really intense scene, so it's only natural something like that would happen." Right? You're sure it must happen all the time with other actors. You're still relatively new to this, so you're not positive, but it sounds right. "Hey, why don't we get changed and go for a drink? Just the two of us?'

Tom deflates even further at the suggestion; he must have seriously been worried you'd be upset or worse.

He nods enthusiastically.

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. I could use a drink after that."

"Well, don't make it sound like I tortured you," you groan, a blush flooding your cheeks.

Tom runs a hand through his hair again as both of you share a bout of breathless laughter. "I'll meet you outside in five?"

"Mm, yeah."

Once out of your robe and back into your normal clothes, you feel much better and back to your usual self, waiting for Tom outside of his trailer.

He emerges a few minutes later, looking a bit more put together and much fresher than he did in costume. He spots you waiting for him and smiles.

"Hey. Sorry to keep you waiting." He starts for the lot exit, gesturing for you to follow. "I did a bit of exploring around set the other day; I know a great little place not far from here, if that's alright?"

You're always struck by how handsome Tom is out of costume - he certainly has a much better style than his character does.

"Sure, lead the way." You fall into step beside him, loving the heat radiating off of him with every step.

As you go, Tom stuffs his hands deep into his pockets. You glance at him and wonder if you imagine the peachy blush blossoming on his face. The air between the two of you feels charged somehow, the memory of the scene still fresh in both your minds.

He steals glances at you every so often as you walk, though you're unsure what exactly he's looking at or for. And instead of making you uncomfortable, you feel warm and safe under his constant gaze.

"So, what do you do to unwind after a long day on set?"

His voice takes you by surprise in the silence.

"Well, I do like a stiff drink from time to time." You gesture in front of you as if to say 'as you can see from where we're headed.' "But I also like to listen to music, play games, take a dip in a really hot bath.... how about you?"

He chuckles. "I'm not much for baths, to be honest. I'd rather shower, just take a quick rinse to feel clean."

He grins at you.

"But I do enjoy having a nice cold beer.... and occasionally I'm persuaded into a game of FIFA, if the right person is asking."

"You should seriously try a bath some time, they're so relaxing and they really help with soreness and tight muscles...."

Both of you are absolutely thinking about bathing together right now, but not one of you says this aloud.

"Oh God, you would be into FIFA, you're so incredibly British. I mostly play RPG's like Final Fantasy, Persona, that kind of thing."

He snorts a laugh at your remark.

"Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it. We can't all spend our free time saving the world from monsters and fighting evil overlords. Some of us just like a good bit of football."

He grins, coming up short when they reach a pub about halfway down the street.

"Right in here, my lady."

-

A few hours later, and the two of you are drunk off your asses, laughing at something Tom just said while sidled up at the bar.

You laugh so hard, you lean back and almost fall off your stool.

Luckily, Tom is quick enough to catch your arm and keep you from toppling backwards, but in the process, you end up pressed against his chest as he grips you in a tight yet gentle hold.

"Whoa, whao! Careful there, you're almost as accident prone as I am."

He chuckles, his breath warm against your ear as he steadies you on your feet once more. Even inebriated, you're still aware of the way you fit so perfectly against his body.

You shake your head, staring up at him. Both of you are quite drunk, but Tom at least can still keep his eyes open all the way.

You blink heavily, grasping for his hand, petting over his fingers. "Sorry, I just.... I still can't believe FIFA is your favorite game. It's a disgrace."

You devolve into a fit of giggles once more.

He rolls his eyes playfully, gently squeezing your fingers in reply.

"Oh, and you've got a better idea? Let me guess, something with swords and magic and.... y'know, dungeons and stuff."

He's a little too tipsy to notice the way you're playing with his hand, or how much it's affecting him.

The world spins as you rest your head on his shoulder, still gazing up at him. ".... oh, I'll put you in a dungeon. With a pair of nice fluffy handcuffs."

Another bout of giggles, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Nothing exists right now except you and Tom - not the bartender, not the other guests - just the two of you, drunk and hanging onto each other.

Tom goes absolutely still as you rest your head against his shoulder, his heart skipping a beat at your comment about handcuffs. He's suddenly finding it very difficult to breathe with you so close, the sound of your giggles making his stomach flutter with something other than alcohol-induced nausea.

He swallows hard, trying to gather his thoughts into something less perverted and more appropriate for public consumption.

"Is that a.... promise, or a threat?"

With your head on his shoulder, your nose is very close to his neck. He smells.... divine. A fair bit like stale alcohol, but still divine.

"Mm...." You wriggle, getting situated in his arms. "I don't typically make a habit of threatening people. So.... it must be a promise."

He takes another shuddering breath as you burrow your nose deeper into the crook of his neck, the feel of your breath hot across his skin making him shiver.

God, you feel so good against him, so warm and perfect. He wants so badly to wrap his arms around you, to pull you into his lap, to bury his face in your hair and just hold you.

"And.... if I said I hope you follow through on that promise?"

You take a deep breath and let it out on a sigh, fingers coming to tap against his jaw. The way his throat works every time he swallows is captivating you. "Then I would say.... Maybe we should head back, to my dungeon.... so I can make this fantasy a reality."

He shuts his eyes and lets out an involuntary, needy little groan at your words. His entire body is on fire, his thoughts hazy and scrambled with desire. The only thing he can focus on coherently is the feeling of your body against his, the sound of your voice in his ear, your fingers on his jaw.

He nods, his voice thick and raspy as he finally manages to speak.

"You have no idea how badly I would love for you to take me back to your dungeon." He hoists you up further, supporting you against him as he pets a hand over your waist. "But.... you're very drunk. We really shouldn't...."

Oh, that moan.... he must want you, otherwise why would he make that needy little sound? The implication of it is enough to make you press your thighs together in desperation.

You swallow thickly. "Then.... at least get me home and help me sober up? Would that be okay, Tom?"

Tom is drunk, but not so much that he can't still think straight. Seeing how needy you're becoming, how much you're obviously wanting him, makes his heart ache with desire, but he refuses to take advantage of you now. He'll do anything else for you, but not that. You need to be in full control of yourself when you take that step with him.

"Of course. Anything you want."

He nods, a hand gripping your hip as he helps you out the door and onto the street.

You're a stone's throw from the filming location, but much farther from the hotel they have you staying at.

You fish in your pocket for your phone. "Here, let me get us an Uber back."

Tom stays by your side as you tap at your phone, his hand still on your hip to steady you as you type. He hopes the driver will get there quickly, because having such easy access to you is proving to be more and more difficult as the alcohol continues to swirl through him.

As you wait, you list against him, arms wrapped around his solid torso. "Tom...."

He grunts softly as you practically meld yourself against his side, and he has to hold himself back from wrapping you in a tight, desperate embrace. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, the way your body fits against his like a puzzle piece.

He tries to force his mind to focus, but alcohol and the feel of you pressed all up against him makes it difficult.

"Yeah....?"

"Will you at least kiss me?" You can't stop yourself from asking. "When we get in the car."

He chokes on his own saliva when you ask him to kiss you, a jolt of need running through him at your words. He wants to kiss you, oh God, does he want to kiss you, but he's still worried about taking advantage.

You can sense he wants to say no, so you cling to the front of his jacket and whine, "Please?"

But then you're looking up at him with those big, pleading eyes and he can't say no. He won't.

He nods, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. "When we're in the car, I promise I'll kiss you."

A grin overtakes your entire face, lighting it up, and your car pulls up in no time. Tom lets you slide in first, making sure you don't just drunkenly fall in, and as soon as he's seated and the door is shut you slot yourself against him with a sigh. "Now, Tom? Please."

He barely has enough time to slam the door shut before you're on him, pushing your body against his with a needy whine. He groans as you press into him, his hands coming up to rest on the bare skin of your waist. The feel of you is almost too much and he has to fight against the urge to just grab you and kiss you senseless right now.

His voice is rough and low as he replies, his lips close enough to brush your jaw.

"God, yes, so impatient, aren't you?"

"Yes." You've always been impatient, always wanted everything now, as soon as you can, and Tom is certainly no exception. "Although.... if you wanted to keep kissing my jaw like that, I wouldn't say no."

He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling in his chest as he leans closer, lips tracing along the line of your jaw before moving up to your earlobe, where he gives you a playful little nibble.

"Just your jaw? I'm not that generous a man. I want to kiss every inch of you, mark you as mine."

"But you don't want to take advantage of me?" You ask softly, remembering his words from earlier as you pull back just enough to see him properly. Your whole body is heating up, the tension between your legs growing unbearable.

How long have you wanted this, wanted him, and now you have him and he refuses to go any further? Will he still want to in the morning, when you're stone cold sober?

You hate these thoughts, these doubts about yourself.

Tom groans, his fingers flexing on your hips as he forces himself to pull back from you. He knows he has to, but he hates it. He wants nothing more than to hold you tightly and kiss you until you're screaming into his mouth. But he can't. Not like this. Not when you're drunk, not when you're not fully in control.

"Damn these principles of mine," he chuckles dryly. "Because I really, really want to."

With a trembling hand carding itself through his pretty blond hair, you lick your lips in what you hope is a seductive way and not a 'shit I'm about to pass out' kind of way.

"Well. You did at least promise to give me a proper kiss. So. What're you waiting for?"

He stares at you through half-lidded eyes, his thoughts growing more and more incoherent the more you touch him and the more you speak. He swallows, his gaze flickering down to your lips, your jaw, the exposed skin of your collarbones over your shirt before dancing back up to meet your gaze. He looks completely wrecked already.

His grip tightens on your hip, fingers flexing against your skin as he considers his options. He clearly wants to do more than just kiss you.

"God, you're really not making this easy on me, are you?"

You whine, hating how much time he's taking, hating that he might change his mind and refuse to touch you at all.

"Tom, please.... you promised."

The sound of you whining, begging for his touch, is more than he can handle. His resistance falters, and he gives in with a heavy sigh.

"God damn it, you're going to be the death of me."

With another needy sound, he takes your face in his hands and finally, finally, he kisses you.

If the sound that came out of you before could be described as a whine, this one can only be described as a whimper. All your need and desire for him escaping you in one long, low sound.

The driver probably thinks Tom is hurting you with the sense of urgency imbued in that one sound.

"Oh, Tom...," As you part from him, you continue to peck his lips over and over, smaller, messier kisses than before. One at the corner of his lips, one to his chin, another as you nibble at his bottom lip. "It's not enough.... it's not going to be enough. Not until I have you."

The sounds that are coming out of your mouth make him shiver with want, and each little kiss on his face fuels the fire burning in the pit of his stomach. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging almost painfully into your skin as he fights the urge to grab you and pin you down against the seat.

"You.... God, you're so impatient. You're not always this easy to read, you know, making all these needy little sounds."

He nuzzles against your mouth, his breath coming in hot little pants against your skin.

You know. God, you know how unreadable you are from day to day. Can't ever let any true emotion show, can't let the boy you like know you like him, lest he use it against you.

"I'm afraid," you mutter, fingers splayed against his neck. "I'm afraid to let anyone know.... how I really feel. Silly, isn't it?"

His fingers move softly against your skin, his touch gentle as he strokes up and down your bare hip where your shirt has ridden up.

"No, not silly. Just.... careful. You're very careful about how you portray yourself to the world. It's not a bad thing, it's just...." He lets out a quiet huff of laughter. "It's just frustrating sometimes, because it makes it so damn hard to read you."

You laugh too, accompanied by a shiver at the feeling of his fingers on your hip. "So.... if you could normally tell what I'm thinking.... how much I want you.... What would you do?"

His eyes darken at your question, a smirk playing across his lips as his fingers tighten again on your waist.

"What would I do? If I knew how much you truly wanted me, how badly you need me...."

He leans closer, his mouth hovering over the pulse point of your throat. He can feel your heartbeat, quick and erratic, beneath his lips as he murmurs against your skin.

"I'd take you right here in the backseat of this damn car, for a start."

Your hold on him tightens, that tension between your legs finally breaking as your clit starts to actively throb with desire. "Oh, Tom...." You hook a leg over his, rubbing against his thigh. "I don't care where we are or who's watching.... take me now? Please?"

Tom grunts, a feral sound that comes from deep in his chest, as you rub against him. His grip on your waist is almost bruising, but he doesn't care about that right now. All he can think about now is burying himself in you. Claiming you as his.

He pulls back just enough to whisper in your ear, his voice thick with hunger. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Anyone could look in and see you falling apart under my touch, knowing how badly you wanted me...."

You nod, unable to help yourself. You would like that, would get so soaked to know someone - anyone - was watching you get fucked by the hottest guy you'd ever met.

Just then, however, the car pulls to an abrupt stop outside the hotel.

Lower lip caught hard between your teeth, you attempt to right yourself and your clothes as you exit the Uber with a muffled, "sorry," to the driver.

Tom climbs out after you, offering a similar apology before hurrying after you, walking so close that he's almost on top of you. His hand comes to hover near the small of your back, desperate to touch you but refraining from doing so until you get inside.

As soon as the elevator doors have closed behind you, Tom grabs you and pulls you flush against him, pinning you against the wall as he groans against your neck.

"God, you don't know what you do to me."

Another full blown smile graces your face as Tom pulls you close. "I didn't embarrass you too badly back there, then?"

He laughs, the sound low and rough. He brushes his nose against the line of your jaw, his mouth seeking the sensitive skin along the side of your neck where he can feel your pulse fluttering quickly beneath.

"Embarrass me? No. But you are going to kill me if you keep making those little noises. And you made a lot of those little noises in the car."

The elevator chimes to a stop on your floor, and you tug him out into the hallway with a hand in his. "I can make a lot more of those 'little noises' in my room."

At that, he lets out an almost inhuman sound, a low growl that comes from deep in his chest.

"Don't say things like that, or I might make you right in the middle of this hallway."

He pulls you down the hall towards your room, nearly breaking the lock on your door in his haste to get inside.

You hand him your card key, and the minute you stumble inside, Tom is pressing you back against the closed door and kissing your neck again. "Tom, seriously.... I need you. I've needed you for a while. Since I met you, honestly."

You wouldn't be admitting these things if you weren't drunk, but that doesn't make them any less true.

A desperate sound catches in the back of his throat at your words, at the admission that you've wanted him for a while. That you need him, as much as he needs you right now. He pulls back to look you in the eye, drinking in the sight of your flushed face, your disheveled hair, and he almost forgets how to breathe.

"God, you're going to be the death of me. I've wanted you so damn bad. Wanted to hear you saying my name, begging me to touch you."

You nod, lip caught plaintively between your teeth again. "Well.... now I am. And you.... you want me too. So.... what are we waiting for?"

To your dismay, however, Tom steps away and sighs. "Not like this, not while you're drunk."

You shake your head, and the room goes spinning again. Stumbling against him, you grabs onto the front of his shirt. "I'm not - not even really that drunk. I feel good, Tom, please...."

He's trying so damn hard to do the right thing here, to not take advantage of your current state, but the moment you stumble into him and grip his shirt he can't help but shiver with need. You look so small and needy right now, holding onto him like you can't stand up without him.

He swallows hard, his throat bobbing, and he grips your waist to keep you steady as he speaks.

"Let's get you a drink of water, alright? And maybe a snack." His fingers are gentle at your jaw, steadying you. "Then we can talk. How does that sound?"

You suppose you should be grateful for Tom's self control, how gentlemanly he is. Not many men could - or would even try to - stop themselves at this point, especially with a woman throwing herself at them like you are.

You take a moment to thank your stars, and nod. "Sure." You let Tom lead you into the room proper, and set you down on one of the beds. "There should be some water bottles in the mini fridge. And some crackers on the night stand."

Tom takes the time to rummage in the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it to you before snatching a packet of crackers off the bedside table. He comes to sit beside you on the bed, watching to make sure you're stable before opening the packet and holding it out to you.

"Eat." He's gone into full-on 'protection mode' now that you're in a safe spot. "And drink your water. You'll thank me in the morning."

You lean against Tom as you do as he says, biting into your crackers and washing them down with a mouthful of cold water. "Thank you, Tom. Seriously. You're so sweet.... how did I get so lucky to grow so close with someone so amazing?"

He sighs quietly, his arm curling around you as he pulls you closer against him. He presses a soft kiss against the top of your head, his voice deep and soft.

"I'm the lucky one, darling. Being your friend is an absolute privilege. I don't deserve such a wonderful woman."

You take another little nibble of a cracker, turning into him. "What if.... what if I want to be more than friends?"

His breath hitches at that, and he has to resist the urge to wrap his arms around you and pull you on top of him.

Instead, he runs his fingers through your hair, his gaze roaming over your face. "Are you sure you're sober enough to make these kinds of decisions, love? Because if so, then I'm all yours."

"Give me like, five minutes," you answer truthfully. "I'll finish these and drink my water and I'll be perfect. I promise."

He lets out a quiet chuckle, his thumb stroking gently against your cheek. "All right, love. Drink your water, eat your crackers, and I'll wait however long you need, okay? I want you to be sure about this. I'll be here, right beside you, until you're ready."

The two of you sit and have a casual chat as you eat and drink, and gradually the room stops spinning so much. It's more like 20 minutes than five, but eventually you toss the wrapper and the empty bottle in the trash and fix Tom with a measured look. "Well.... I'm ready."

All the while, Tom had continued to quietly hold you, his strong, steady presence beside you like a pillar. He had chatted along with you, his voice a low murmur at your ear, until you were done eating and drinking.

When he feels you turn to look at him, he gives you a small smile, his eyes dark with desire. He takes a moment to study your expression, making sure you really are as sure about this as you seem.

When he apparently decides you are, he moves in closer, one hand gripping your waist to pull you up against him.

One of your hands curls around his shoulder, the other going to his slim waist. "May I have another kiss?" You ask quietly.

He hums, his hand tightening on your waist, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hip again.

"Of course, dearest."

He doesn't hesitate to lean closer, his nose nuzzling against your jaw before pressing his mouth to your throat. He places soft, fluttering kisses along the sensitive skin there, his warm breath making your skin tingle.

Your breathing quickens, your hold on him tightening. "Tom.... don't take this the wrong way, but.... you could do whatever you want to me right now and I wouldn't say no."

A shudder rolls through him when he hears the breathless need in your voice, and his hand comes up to bury itself in your hair, gently tugging your head back as he nips lightly at your jaw.

"Darling, don't say that or I really won't be held responsible for my actions.”

You've already surrendered herself to him, leaning back against the pillows as his teeth work at your neck and jaw. "But I'm serious. What do you want to do to me?"

A harsh, almost feral, sound rumbles in the back of his throat at your words, and he gives your hair another gentle tug to expose more of your neck to his mouth. He traces a trail from your jaw to your collarbone, nipping and biting along the way.

"I want you to lock me up in your dungeon, of course," he says, and you both chuckle.

Then, "Baby, I want to touch you. Taste you. Make you moan my name until you're pleading and begging for more. I want to...." He hesitates, as though nervous. ".... I want to take one of those really hot baths you were talking about earlier with you...."

"Well, which do you want to do first? Touch me, taste me, or bathe with me?" Your heart is hammering against your ribcage, a frightened bird fighting its way out.

Having Tom, here, looking at you like this is making you feel so weak.

He considers his options for a moment, studying your face intently as he decides. He's practically shaking with need right now, and being given the choice is almost too much for him. He can't wait to get his hands on you.

"I think...." His voice sounds wrecked, his thumb tracing a path up the side of your ribcage. "I think I want to touch you first."

"Then what are you waiting for?" You ask, with a bite of impatience in your voice. You lean fully back against the pillows now, letting your shirt ride up over your abdomen. "I'm all yours, Tom."

His eyes darken as he notices your shirt riding up, revealing a strip of bare skin just below your navel. He runs his hand up your side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, until he can tuck his fingers under the fabric. He pulls your shirt up further.

"God, you really are, aren't you? Such a beautiful, perfect little thing, all mine to explore."

His words cause you to inhale sharply, spreading your legs so he can get between them. "Tom.... keep talking like that. I can't get enough of it."

He lets out a gravelly groan at that, shifting to kneel between your legs. His hands come up to gently run along your sides, to your ribs, finally coming back down to rest on your hips and holding you still as he speaks.

"You want to hear more, love? I'll tell you anything you want. You just have to ask."

Your hands find his toned forearms, skimming up and down. You like feeling him, it sets you at ease to know he's here with you. "Keep telling me I'm yours, keep saying I'm perfect. Keep.... keep telling me how much you want me. Please."

He tightens his grip on your hips, his broad chest rising and falling with his rapid breathing. His eyes roam over your body, taking in every dip and curve.

"You're mine, darling. Absolutely mine."

He moves down, his nose running along your stomach, his hand pushing your shirt up farther to expose more of you.

"Perfect. So damn perfect. Can't even believe I get to have you like this. It's all I've thought about for weeks."

"Really?" For some reason, you're more embarrassed to learn that Tom has been pining for you than you are of the fact that his face is now level with your bare chest. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He laughs at that, the rumble in his chest making his muscles ripple against your skin. He ducks down, placing a kiss between your breasts before speaking.

"I don't know, darling. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way, I suppose. You're just so damn hard to read. I could never tell if you wanted me to leave you alone, or if you just didn't want to let yourself show it."

"I'm sorry," you apologize, petting his hair back, letting your nails traipse down his neck. "I promise not to be so hard to read from now on, but only if you promise me something."

He lets out another low moan when your nails run along his neck. He moves his mouth down, peppering the soft skin above your hip bone with little kisses. When he speaks, his voice vibrates against your skin, sending shudders all through your body. "Anything...."

You worry your lower lip yet again, hands still busy in his perfectly soft hair. "Be mine? I mean.... I guess I'm asking you out. Wanna be my boyfriend?"

He stops. His mouth on your hip, his hands on your waist, his entire body frozen still as your words sink in. His brain seems to have short-circuited, and it takes a good ten seconds before he manages to get it working again.

"You.... you want me to be your boyfriend?"

In the time it takes him to form words, you've had a full blown panic attack. "I mean, only if you want to. We really don't have to. In fact.... It was a mistake of me to ask, seriously, let's just keep it at this."

He shakes himself out of his shock at your panicked rambling, and his hands grab for your wrists, holding you in place.

"Stop. Stop apologizing and stop rambling, darling. Of course I want to be your boyfriend. You really think I could say no?"

"Well.... you didn't say anything at first. I sort of thought you'd had an aneurysm, you weren't saying anything...." Your wrists shake in his grasp.

He tightens his grip on them, holding you still as he levers himself up so he can look you in the eye. His eyes roam your face intently, taking in your anxious look.

"You didn't wait long enough to get an answer before you started panicking, sweetheart. I was just.... surprised. I didn't expect you to ask me." He laughs quietly, and you notice the redness spreading across his cheeks. "I hadn't really thought I'd get that lucky."

"So you will?" You reiterate. ""Please say you will. You want to. Be mine. Please."

Tom huffs a chuckle at the needy sound in your voice, gently moving his hands from your wrists to grasp your face instead, his fingers sifting back into your hair as he holds you in place.

"Yes, darling. Of course I want to be yours. You have no idea how much I want that. I can't believe you even felt you had to ask."

You surge up to kiss him, your hands at his waist dragging him down on top of you.

And he kisses you just as desperately, his mouth moving against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips to taste you. He lets out a low moan as he's tugged down on top of you, his body falling between your legs and pressing you harder into the bed. His arms slide around your body, holding you against his chest as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

With a desperate, searching hand, you cup him through his pants, squeezing gently.

That pulls an utterly guttural noise of surprise from his throat, and his hips lurch forward, pressing his hardness into the palm of your hand. His breath catches, and he gasps against your mouth, his hands tightening on your waist.

"Oh, sweetheart. That.... that's dangerous."

Not caring exactly how 'dangerous' it might be, you start to gently stroke his growing erection through the soft material. "Tom? What gets you harder? The thought of being locked in my dungeon or the thought of taking a hot, steamy bath with me?"

His eyes roll back, and he gasps harshly as you start touching him in earnest, his hips rocking forward against your hand. His body is like a coiled spring, on the verge of snapping at any moment.

"Both of those things are going to get me in trouble at some point, you know that? Those ideas drive me Goddamn crazy. But right now, all I want is to be yours, in any way I can please you, my love."

Your face is heated, feeling him growing in his pants. "Then please me. However you want."

He drops his head, burying his face in your neck. His lips trail along every inch of skin he can find, nibbling and sucking at your pulse point. "Are you sure about that, darling? Because I.... I have so many ideas. Things I want to do to you. How can I choose just one?"

Your shirt is still rucked up around your shoulders, and you take a moment to reach up and yank it off. "Just choose one. Just one, for tonight. For me?"

Tom leans back, just a bit, as you take your shirt off. His hands are on you again in a moment, running up and down your newly exposed skin, exploring every inch of you. He takes a moment to process your words, his eyes hungrily digesting your exposed body.

"Just one, for tonight. I can do that." He slides a hand up, gently gripping your jaw between his fingers. His touch is firm, dominant. "Close your eyes, love."

You trust him enough to obey, immediately, closing your eyes against the light and waiting for him.

You hear him hum, low, approvingly, as he watches your eyes flutter shut. He takes a moment, just to look at you like this. So pliant and perfect. All his to do with as he pleases. You then feel a shiver roll through him, and he has to take a steadying breath before he speaks again.

"Keep them closed. Now, no speaking. Not until I say so, okay, darling? You're going to be so good for me, aren't you?"

"Ye-" You make to answer before remembering his orders - no speaking. You merely nod instead, reaching out to ground yourself with your hands on his arms.

A smile spreads across his face - unseen by you - his hand on your jaw rubbing a thumb back and forth lightly over your skin. "That's my good girl. Just keep those eyes closed for me." He moves his hands to your hips, gently maneuvering you to roll onto your stomach.

Surprised at the change of position, you still gladly curl yourself around a pillow, getting comfortable on your front, your legs spread for him still.

Behind you, Tom lets out a low sound, somewhere between a growl and a moan. He runs his hands up the backs of your thighs, slowly, tracing little circles with his fingertips as he moves them up to grasp your hips. His fingers dig into the skin there, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to hold you in place.

"Perfect. You know how to follow instructions so well, darling. Just like I knew you would."

He said no talking, but. As his hands skim over your shorts, you can't help but ask, "Would you like to take them off, Tom?"

His hands still on your hips as he takes in your words. He gives your hips a gentle squeeze, before sliding his fingers under the elastic of your shorts.

"Well, that sounds like a question, love. And I specifically said no talking, didn't I? But I'll let it slide just this once. Do you want me to take them off, sweetheart?"

You make a small sound, canting your hips up and nodding, making it easier for him.

He hums approvingly as he watches your hips lift, and his hands slide under the fabric, pushing the shorts down and off your legs. Once the cloth clears your feet, he lets it fall to the side before gently rubbing his hands up your legs, from your ankles up to the backs of your thighs again.

"God, darling, you're just a perfect vision, you know that? So beautiful. And all mine."

Your pussy is positively leaking as you bury your face nervously in the pillows and wonder what he's going to do next.

Apparently reading your mind, Tom leans down and whispers in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Don't be nervous, my love. I just want to make you feel good." He then begins to trail light kisses along the back of your neck and down your spine, pausing at each vertebrae to nibble gently at you.

With one hand, he begins to slowly stroke between your legs, brushing lightly, teasingly, over your sensitive clit as you moan softly. His other hand continues to wander over your back and shoulders, massaging your tense muscles and sending shivers rippling all over your body.

Even the barest brush of Tom's fingers over your clit have your hips bucking, pushing back, wanting more of him. It's all you can do not to speak, to beg him to fuck you already, especially since he's instructed you not to.

You want to tell him that you love how dominant he is, but how gentle at the same time. He wouldn't ever hurt you, you trust him more than anything.

Tom continues to tease you, his fingers moving in slow circles around your clit, never quite giving you the contact you crave. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Do you like it when I'm in control? Do you like when I make you wait and beg for release?" His voice is low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

He pauses for a moment, pressing his lips to the curve of your neck before continuing, "I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you love when I take control."

You're making the most desperate little noises, grinding your aching cunt back against his hand. "I-I thought I wasn't allowed to talk…."

Tom chuckles softly as he continues to tease you, his fingers still working expertly between your legs. "That rule doesn't apply right now, my love," he murmurs, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin behind your ear. "I want to hear you beg for me."

He drags his fingers higher, teasing at your wet entrance before pulling back down to circle your clit once more. "So tell me. Do you love it when I'm in control?" He punctuates his words with a particularly firm stroke over your clit.

"Ah! Oh my god, yes, Tom, I love it. I love when you're in control, I love that you're so dominant, but so gentle with me. You don't know how badly I needed this."

You tilt your hips down, trying so hard to get Tom's thick fingers inside of you.

With a grin against the side of your neck and his hand continuing to work its magic between your legs, he sighs. "I knew you'd like it, my love," he murmurs, slipping just one finger inside of you and pumping it slowly in and out as he continues to circle your clit with his thumb.

He leans down and bites lightly at your shoulder, whispering again, "You're so wet for me, baby. You want me to fill you up, don't you?" He adds another finger, thrusting them faster, harder.

You swallow thickly, wanting him to give you everything. Everything he possibly can. "Please, Tom. Want your fingers, more of them. Want your cock too, and your tongue, and - and…."

Your fingers are tearing so hard at the pillowcase you're afraid you'll rip it open. Your hips are working furiously back against his fingers, it's embarrassing how much you need him.

Tom groans softly at your words. He adds a third finger, stretching you and curling them just right to hit that perfect spot inside of you.

"You're so greedy for me, aren't you?" He murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Don't worry, darling. I'll give you everything you want."

With that, he leans down and presses his lips to your neck, trailing soft kisses along your skin as his fingers continue to pump inside you.

When his fingers hit your g-spot your entire body spasms underneath of him. "Oh, f-fuck!" There's that undeniable tension, as though something inside of you is held taut like a bowstring. And he doesn't let up either, continuing to abuse that little spot inside of you with his insistent fingers. "Fuck, Tom, I…. be careful. I'm gonna squirt if you keep.... " You trail off on a whine.

He can feel your body responding to his touch, and he doesn't let up, increasing the speed and pressure of his fingers on that spot, knowing exactly how to push you over the edge.

He whispers huskily in your ear, "Well, it's a good thing there are two beds in this room.... Let go for me. I want to see you come apart under my touch."

His voice is a potent mix of command and desire, fueling your need further as he continues to pleasure you, driving you toward that edge where you can finally release all of your built-up tension.

Every breath you take is now accompanied by a desperate moan, your hips working so hard back against his fingers. That tightness is about to break, and you bury your face in the pillow you hold as you do finally squirt, releasing all that fluid over his hand and arm, and probably on his pants too as you shake apart around his lovely fingers.

Though you can't see him, Tom is reveling in the sight of you unraveling under his touch, your body shaking with the force of your release. He feels your wetness gush over his hand and arm, soaking him in your essence, a clear sign of how much you needed this release.

As you shake and tremble, he continues to caress you gently, soothing you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. His own desire burns brightly, knowing that he's brought you such intense pleasure. With a satisfied smile, he whispers softly, "You're so beautiful when you come undone for me, my love."

You can barely catch your breath, Tom's drenched fingers still inside of you, soothing your poor spasming walls. "T-Tom…. when I told you to choose one thing to do to me tonight…. I didn't think it would be that…."

Tom chuckles softly, withdrawing his fingers carefully from inside of you and sitting up on the edge of the bed. He looks down at you with a playful glint in his eyes as he sucks all of you from his fingers.

"What can I say?" he says with a grin. "I always like to exceed expectations."

He reaches over and tousles your hair affectionately with his dry hand, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "But if you want something else, just let me know," he murmurs. "After all, tonight is all about giving you exactly what you want."

"I want so much more," you mutter, turning finally to look at the damage. "Jesus Christ, it looks like a swimming pool in here…"

Tom chuckles at this observation, taking in the sight of the wet mess he helped you create.

"Well, I did promise to give you everything you wanted," he teases, pulling you into his arms and planting a soft kiss to your forehead. "And if you seriously want more, just say the word. I'm all yours tonight." He flashes you a mischievous grin, his eyes full of desire as he waits for your next request.

"Well, let's not get cleaned up just yet because…. I do want more. A lot more." You glance down; Tom's cock is now hard as a rock, straining against the zipper of his pants, which are very stained with your squirt.

Tom grins, his eyes also lingering on the dark stains.

"Anything you want, my love," he murmurs, standing up from the bed and pulling you with him. "Let's move over here."

He moves you gently over to the opposite bed, which is still pristine. For now.

"Can I ask you to take some of your clothes off?" You ask quietly. "Please? I can't be the only one naked here."

A sly smile playing on his lips, he nods and slowly starts to undress, revealing his toned body inch by inch. He makes a show of it, letting each piece of clothing drop to the floor with deliberate slowness, enjoying the anticipation building between you.

He stands before you, his gaze locked with yours, completely exposed and ready for whatever desires you have in mind.

You lean forward toward him, anticipatory, and once Tom is just as bare as you are, you can't help but ask, "Can I suck it?"

A primal growl rips from him as he moves closer to you, nodding eagerly.

Without another word, he takes hold of your hair gently, guiding you down towards his length. As you take him into your mouth, he lets out a low moan, his fingers tangling in your hair as he begins to thrust his hips forward gently.

You wrap your lips eagerly around him and start to suck earnestly, head bobbing as he eases the way with his hands in your hair.

His head falls back slightly, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he feels the heat of your mouth enveloping him. The sensation of your eager sucking sends shivers down his spine, his arousal building with each flick of your tongue.

He tightens his grip on your hair, guiding your movements as he rocks his hips gently, matching your rhythm. His breathing becomes shallow and rapid, consumed by the pleasure you're giving him.

One gentle hand comes to squeeze softly at his balls, the other steadying yourself with a hand on his thigh. You gaze up at him, wide eyed, as if to ask, 'am I doing alright?'

Tom's eyes flutter shut at the sensation of your hand on his balls, the pleasure mounting with each passing moment. When he opens his eyes to look down at you, he sees the pure desire reflected in your gaze and can't help but smile.

"You're doing amazing," he breathes, again almost as though he can read your mind, his voice heavy with arousal. "Just keep going like that."

He continues to guide your movements, hips thrusting forward with increasing urgency as the sensation builds inside him. He knows that he's getting close, but he wants to savor every moment of this incredible experience.

The movement of his hips is making you gag a bit now, not used to having something so big in your mouth. But you soldier on, wanting to pleasure him just as much as he did you, trying to relax your throat so Tom can slide in further.

It's evident that the effort you're putting into pushing past your limits is only adding to Tom's desire - he groans softly, feeling you relax your throat further, so he can slip even deeper.

The sensation is overwhelming, and he can't hold back any longer. With a whine, he reaches his peak, his body tensing as he releases himself into your mouth. The pleasure washes over him in waves, leaving him breathless and utterly spent.

You squeak delightedly, and in surprise, as Tom starts to cum. Letting yourself rest fully on your knees now, you brace herself with both hands on his hips. Trying to swallow everything, only a few dribbles of cum spilling out and down your chin, you pop off with one more lick to his dripping head.

He looks down at you, a satisfied smile on his lips, grateful for the intense pleasure you've given him.

"I really did okay?" You gasp, wiping at your chin. "I've only done that once or twice before, and to be honest…. never on an actual human, only ever with toys."

He nods eagerly, pulling you up to him and planting a kiss to your swollen lips. "You were incredible," he murmurs, his fingers tangling in your hair once again. "It was so fucking good, baby."

He pulls you in for another kiss, not caring that the taste of himself is still on you. "But we're just getting started," he says with a grin, his trembling hands roaming over your body.

You still the movements of his hands with your fingers around his wrists, taking the time to really see him in the dim light of the room. "Before we do anything else, Tom.... I really did want to thank you. For earlier. I probably wasn't.... okay. To consent to any of this. Thank you for waiting."

The heat in Tom's eyes blazes brighter, and he disentangles his wrists to card his fingers through your hair. "Of course, love. You don't even have to thank me. I couldn't let you make that decision while you were like that."

With one last peck to his lips, you push him playfully down onto the bed and crawl over him. "Time for round two?"

[hellvcifer]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do a Fizz x Asmodeus x Reader with the phrase “But you love us, don’t you?” “Don’t say that every time you make a mess!”?

MORNING SURPRISE— ଘ fic

pairing :: poly!fizz/ozzie x fem!reader wc :: 1.7k note :: yippieee!! finally able to post this. I'm coming off my sick bed so i apologize for any errors but i love fizzmodeus <33 warnings :: suggestive, pet name (bunny)

The coo-coo cock clock began chirping at the ass crack of dawn, waking up a little imp. He did his morning routine, limbs extending across the estate to brew his morning french press and snatch his cap n’ bells. He stretched out deeply, releasing a few cracks along his spine and deviously turning towards the bed. 

A pair of eyes glowed from underneath the blankets, butt wiggling as she watched the imp prepare for his air horn wake up call. She jumped out, pouncing on Fizz, their bodies rolling down the stairs next to the large bed.

You landed on top, legs straddling his body as you released a huff. Fizz pouted, “Babe, what the fu–” Your hands clamped over his mouth, head snapping towards the bed where a loud snore could be heard. After a few moments of heavy breaths passed by, you turned back to your partner. 

A sly smile pulled at your lips as you began to whisper. “Ozzie has off today!” Muffled sounds vibrated against your fingers as Fizz narrowed his eyes at you. You giggled and removed your hands.

“That doesn’t explain why you tackled me.” His arm extended to wrap around your waist a few times, finger trailing up your thigh. “Though I’m not complaining if this is how we end up.” He giggled, tongue peaking out between his lips.

You leaned closer, eyes narrowing with a smirk, “I have an idea~!” You sang, causing Fizz to raise a brow is curious delight. “Come on!” You grabbed his hand, and jumped to stand. His arm retracted and spun you around in place. You swayed a bit before regaining your composure and yanking him to follow you to the kitchen. 

“Okay, are you gonna explain to me what this plan of yours is?” Fizzy crossed his arms and watched you begin to scavenge through the kitchen. Your body flitting across the room, arms filling with various items and piling them on a counter. Once you finished, you turned to the imp. 

“We’re making Ozzie breakfast, duh!” You chimed, watching his face slowly light up. 

“Ohhohohoh fuck yeah, Babe!” His arms extended and yoinked himself onto the counter. “What’s on the menu? Pizza? Chicken wings? Ribs?” 

You giggled, “Noo~ you silly Frog!” You shook your head. “Try pancakes!”

“But pizzaaah~!” He whined with a pout. You jumped on the counter to sit next to him, lips finding his cheek for a quick peck. 

“Next time, okay?” You smiled. Fizz’s face darkened in a blush as he turned to you.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, Bunny!” He giggled before glancing at the ingredients. “So what’s first?” 

You slowly glanced at them. “Uh, good question..” His eyes widened, head snapping to look at you.

“You don’t even know how to make them?”

“Well it can’t be that hard!” You pulled out your phone, thumbs typing to find a recipe from the sinternet. “Look here! Easy pancakes from scratch.” You showed him the screen.

“Oh we sooo got this!” His tongue peeked out as he slowly scrolled through the pages. You hopped off the counter, grabbing a few mixing bowls from the cabinets. 

“I’ll mix the dry ingredients and you can start on the wet ones.” You gave him one of the bowls. 

Fizz chuckled, eyebrows raising a few times. “You sure you don’t want the wet ones? Cuz, you know…” He smirked, eyes fluttering up and down your figure. You felt your face grow warm at his insinuations.

“Yes! I’m sure!” You scooped the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt into the bowl before stomping to the other end of the counter in a huff. You measured the designated amounts, each falling into the bowl. Once you finished, you grabbed a whisk before making sure it was mixed.

“Uhh, Bunny?” You heard Fizz call out. “Is butter supposed to do that?” You turned, seeing him stretched out to stare into the microwave. The wet popping noise coming from the appliance didn’t make you feel any better. 

You rushed over, Fizz dropped an arm down before pulling you up. The inside of the microwave wasn’t too messy, but the butter had melted and soon turned brown  in the center. Gritty pieces floating around and the liquid still bubbling. You stopped it quickly and turned to Fizz. “How long did you put it in for?”

“It said 15 minutes.”

Your eyes widened. “Really?” 

“Uh, duh!” He shrunk to his normal height, you still in his arms. “I read it right there!” He jabbed his finger at the phone. 

“That says seconds, Babe." You laughed. "I think it’s burnt.” You peered at the closed door of the microwave. “Think we can still use it?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine!” He nodded, as cheerful as ever.

You smiled and shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah, okay!” 

“What’s next?” He stretched to grab the butter from the microwave before dumping it in his own bowl where the milk, vanilla, and egg were. 

“We mix your ingredients with a blender!” 

“Got it!” Fizz was quick to plug it in and position it in the wet bowl. He flicked it on to the highest setting and things seemed fine for a moment. Until the blender began to wobble and soon sent a bunch of the wet mix out the sides and onto the cupboards. Fizz began vibrating with the blender, laughing as he continued mixing. 

You fell into your fit of giggles the more you watched, “Okay! I think it’s good!” He pulled the blender out from the bowl, the leftover mix on the metal whisks flying everywhere including you and the imp. “Fizzy!” You scolded, a smile never leaving your face.

“What!” He finally turned off the tool, turning towards you. He weighted onto one hip, resting his empty hand on his waist. “Cooking is a messy job, you’re not doing it right if you’re not wearing the food.” He spoke with his nose in the air as if it wasn’t the most obvious fact. He grinned and flung the blender elsewhere. “Besides~” He slinked closer, “It’s not like we haven’t been this messy before~” He giggled and trailed a finger down your shoulder.

Your cheeks heated before you pulled back. “Hey! No distracting me!” You scolded though it didn’t hold much strength behind it.

He smirked, “So, what’s next?” He leaned in. 

You grabbed your phone, noting it was full of the wet mix, “Okay, it says we have to make a well in the dry ingredients and then… slowly fold them together.” 

“What the fuck does well mean?” He asked.

“What the fuck does fold mean?” You peered at him, brows creased.

He pursed his lips in thought before glancing at you. “Maybe like a blanket?” 

“Like… With our hands?” You held your hands up, glancing back and forth between the two.

“Well, how else do you fold things?” He shrugged. Fizz grabbed you and extended his legs up to place you on the counter before sitting opposite of you, the bowl in the middle. 

“Okay, make a well.” You pushed the dry mix around until it had an empty space in the middle. “Now add the wet mix.” Fizz dumped it all but graciously in. “And fold!” His hands slammed into the bowl, splattering the contents around and onto the both of you. You laughed as he continued his ‘folding’ methods messily. The folding being more of a throw your hands together and hope for the best.

The dry mix clouded upwards and attached to both of you, along with small splatters of the partially mixed dough. It flung around the kitchen, landing alongside the previous mess, hitting cupboards, counters, the fridge, even as far as the dining table. Your giggles mixed in with Fizz’s, the mixing becoming the main event of cooking breakfast. 

“What is going on in here?” A loud voice called out from the doorway. Ozzie stood there, mouth fallen with wide eyes as he stared at the condition of the kitchen. He was in the middle of tying his robe, frozen as he finally saw you and Fizz sitting on the counter. Both completely covered in pancake mix. You blinked at Ozzie, watching him take cautious steps forward. 

“Aww, you weren’t supposed to wake up, Ozzie!” Fizz whined, shoulders slumping.

“You sleep in any other day!” You added, “Why on all days do you wake up early today!” You pouted alongside your imp boy. 

“Maybe because hearing you two giggling maniacally all the way from the bedroom intrigued me.” He finally stood before you and Fizz. “And for good reason! Look at this place!” He gestured to the kitchen, “There’s… What is this…?” He scooped up a bit onto his finger from the counter and stuck it in his mouth. A second passed by before he physically recoiled. “Oh no.” He shuttered, the feeling coursing throughout his entire body. “No, no! You two!” He glared down at your forms. “What did I say about you cooking!”

You blinked up at Oz, seeing his face scowl but Ram and Bull showed his true endearing emotions. They always seemed to break his tough facade. You smirked towards Fizz, him reading you almost instantly. He shoved the bowl aside and scooted towards you.

“But you love us~” You smiled real big, eyes misting into a pretty sparkle. Fizz leaned in, squishing his cheek against yours and mirroring your expression. You grasped his hands and pulled his body close, chests flushed against each other. 

“Don’t you~?” Fizzy added, pulling the last word out and pouting his lips.  

Ozzie crossed in arms while staring down at you both, he felt himself slowly breaking at the sight. “Don’t say that every time you two make a mess!” He turned away, eyes shutting tight. His chest rising a few times in frustrated huffs, his expression melting. His eyes peaked down at your forms, “Auogh! I can’t stay mad at you guys when you do that!”

“We know~!” You giggled, eyes sliding to Fizz as you turned to each other, noses brushing in a small victory. His sleek metal limbs wrapping around you and squeezing.

“Womp womp!” Fizz laughed and hugged you tighter.

“Look at my messy little Fizzy-Frog and Bunny-Wunny!” Large arms encircled the both of you, scooping you into the air and spinning. “Looks like I'll have to get you both washed up.” His voice sank a few octaves, "Care to join me for a nice deep clean?" Eyes narrowing with a growing smirk.

Who were you to deny your King of Lust?

likes and reblogs appreciated !! ♡

[radioactive-yuri]

silco really did just force his own unhealthy coping mechanisms onto jinx, thinking it was the only way to help her.

the "eye of zaun", the "jinx", they're both turning their traumas into a brand. silco's fixated on the river he almost drowned in, framing it in his mind as not trauma, but an important lesson. a baptism. a rebirth. all to avoid the fear he actually felt. he can dismiss the pain and terror as the emotions of someone other than himself entirely, some other version of him that he let die, so that he never has to actually confront it.

and he thinks that that's what jinx needs to do too. to let powder die, to become someone else. reframe her trauma, make it her identity. and she does. she names herself jinx, she draws the things she has flashbacks about over and over again until her room is covered in the proof of her "rebirth" as jinx.

but it doesn't work for her the way it "worked" for him. she's younger, she was way younger when it all happened to her, it's imprinted into her brain in a completely different way. she can't repress it the way he does. all of the reminders only do that; remind her. she hallucinates and has breakdowns and none of this is healthy for her. she can't recover, not in this environment of constant triggers.

silco doesn't understand that, because it "worked" for him. he wears his trauma as a role, a mask, a brand. the eye, a very real permanent disability of his, becomes a logo and a signature. the river becomes a metaphor for rebirth and change, instead of what it actually is: a large body of water full of toxins that he almost drowned in. sort of off-topic, but this is the main reason why the song "dramaturgy" reminds me of silco so much: he's performing his own trauma as a role. he's purposefully leaning into the dramatics of it, the themes, he's turning his own life into a compelling story. because that's easier for him than confronting the actual horror of what he went through.

there is, however, one moment in s1 where we see silco express a raw sort of terror directly because of his trauma, and that's when vander wraps his hand around his throat in episode 3. only for a moment, the reality of it all sunk in again. he'd spent years wearing his trauma like a costume, but right then, he was forced to acknowledge once again that that costume was him. vander's hand wrapped around his throat, and he was that boy again, terrified and choking, drowning, lungs burning, being beaten to a pulp and strangled by someone he thought he could trust. for just a moment, that elaborate coping mechanism he'd built for himself crumbled. the eye is just an injury. the river is just a river. drowning isn't rebirth. he's just that traumatized boy. he'll always be that traumatized boy.

until the mask slips back on, and he forces that meaning into his own suffering once more. now he's the eye of zaun again, and he has to kill vander. that's a compelling story, isn't it? and it has to be. it has to have meaning. he'll make sure it has a meaning.

[hellsburners]

in vino veritas

summary: the emperors have given the general a gift. pairing: general marcus acacius x male reader word count: 1.7k warnings: smut, rough dom, top marcus, bottom male reader, sex pollen pic a/n: im seeing the movie tomorrow!

masterlist

A chill rolled down the general’s spine as he entered the throne room. Two golden chairs sat atop a dais, shining under the sunlight. Seated were the emperor’s with their bone white togas and their red hair. Acacius has seen great monsters in his conquests, but none as bloodthirsty and mad as these two. 

He was still bloodied from battle, dirt and soot covered his body, his chestplate dented and scratched. He dropped his sword on the marble floor, the clang of metal echoing the palace walls. 

“You have brought great honor to Rome, General,” the Emperor Geta said. His golden eyes gleaming with pride and greed under the sunlight. He gestures at the servants below the dais, where they fetch the general’s sword and pour him a glass of wine. The Emperor takes a sip of wine, the corners of his mouth smirking roguishly. 

“A feast must be made in your honor,” the younger emperor shouted in joy. “With the finest meals and a celebration in the colosseum!” 

“None is required, my emperors,” the general spoke. “I only wish for someone to tend to my wounds and a soft bed to lay in tonight.” 

He took a sip of his wine, the bitterness helped distract the ache in his body. He saw Caracalla whispering something to his brother, snickering and chuckling under his breath. Geta’s eyes widened, a smile forming from his lips. 

“Very well,” Geta clapped. 

The sound of his clap echoed in the room, a ringing sound forming in the general’s ears. He staggered back, his vision blurring—almost black. The wine, he thought. He fell hard on the floor, his body numb. He saw the two emperors walk down the dais, towering over him like roman statues of the gods. They both laughed maniacally

“In vit veritas, General.” In wine, there is truth. 

Marcus Acacius woke up from the sound of a fallen metal bowl. It was night time, the torches in the room were lit. He wasn’t in the throne room anymore, yet the fineries in the architecture and the furniture in the room signaled that he was still in the palace. 

“Forgive me, general,” you said. Picking up the fallen bowl and the cloth bandages scattered on the floor. You had tended to the general’s wounds. There weren’t many but it was imperative they be cleaned to reduce any infection. “How are you feeling?”

You saw the general rise from his bed, his wide frame casting shadows on the bed. He wore nothing but the bandages you wrapped around his chest and the silk blanket that covered his privates. He groaned, his voice hoarse and deep. “Fine I suppose, a bit sore.”

“That is to be expected. Your injuries, though minor, will take a few days to heal.” you said. You couldn’t help but stare at him, even as you cleaned his wounds. His thick wavy hair that you brushed until the dried blood came off. His tanned skin and his broken nose. You admired every feature almost as if you were looking at a god on earth. 

“They laced my drink with something, what was it?” Marcus spoke. His hands brushed over his thick thighs, bending down while his hair fell on his face. “I feel feverish and weak.”

“A flower from one of Rome’s colonies, once dried it turns into a fine powder that can be mixed into wine. It is undetectable from smell or taste,” You said. Fear rose to your throat. In front of you was the most dangerous man in Rome. Despite his weakness you knew, surely, he can kill you with ease. “In small doses it could be a sort of aphrodisiac the emperors have been using in their—parties. Large amounts can be quite lethal.”

The general tried to stand but to no avail. You rushed quickly to his aid. It was true, you tried to cradle his muscular arms and they were hot to the touch. He groaned, grabbing onto your arm tightly. The silk shifted under his legs, your eyes widened to see the silk was bulging. “Fuck,” he moaned. 

“General,” you said in shock. 

“Tell me, boy,” his eyes were sharp like knives and dark like an abyss. “Is this part of their games?”

“This is a part of its effects, that is the truth,” you said, your face was close to his, his hand still gripping onto your arm. His breath was hot against your lips. But trust me, general, I had no part in this.”

“What will make it go away then?” he said, the silk pulled down the soft v of his pelvis, you could see the hint of hair in the middle. 

“Time is the only cure. It will take until sunrise for the effects to subside,” you said. He cursed under his breath, sweat dripping down his temples. You pushed his hair back, your fingers cold against his skin. You rested your knee on the bed, your other hand caressing his broad shoulders. “But if there is anything I can do to help, my general.”

His hands wrapped around your neck, tight. His eyes stared at you with his brows furrowed. He dragged you down to the bed. He was now on top of you, he was wide and strong, his breath labored. His hands pinned you down, his nails digging into your skin. He dove down to your neck kissing you. Nibbling and licking down your skin. You tasted of salt and flowers, oddly sweet. 

“You will serve me, boy,” he said. “Until sunrise.”

You nodded. He ripped off your toga, tossing it aside, lost in the sea of silk. He continued to take his time on your body, kissing and sucking leaving marks all over. You moaned from his wet lips and his warm tongue, which trailed down your chest to your perked nipples. You could feel his rough facial hair scrape your skin, it stung but it sent more shivers through your body. 

“Then let me serve you,” You said, slowly changing places so that he was sitting on the bed, and you straddling his muscular thighs. You placed a kiss on his lips, which tasted of dried blood. He pulled you closer, kissing you roughly while you fought to take in the air. His tongue mixed with yours changing each other's taste. When you pulled back to breathe you saw that his pupils were dilated. 

You continued to trail kisses on his ear, slowly tracing the tip of your tongue down his neck and to his chest. You did the same with his nipples, licking and teasing which made him moan. It was godly, the way he sounded. Such brute strength in the battlefield long gone under your touch. Your hand went down to the growing ache in his center. His cock was aching hard and thick, the tip leaking. When you touched the bead of cum he shivered and cursed. You went down to place soft kisses around the shaft, taking in his soldier’s scent. You placed the pad of your tongue under the shaft and licked to taste the tip, engulfing the head as you went down—deep. 

“Fuck,” he said, his chest rising and falling. You sucked down and hollowed your cheeks as you came up, releasing the head with a loud pop. He placed a hand on your head and pushed you back down. You bobbed on his cock feverishly as he moaned more and more. He was shaking a bit, his hands pulling on your hair as he fucked into your throat. Tears formed in your eyes as you took his thickness deeper into your throat. You could feel him getting close which is why he released his hold on you, you clutched your throat and coughed up. His thick cock was glistening wet with your spit, the tip a deep red. 

“Have you ever been with a soldier?” he said, panting. You shook your head, wiping your tears and your lips on the silk. “Then come here, boy. Let me show you how a soldier of Rome takes his price.” 

You held onto his shoulders for balance. He guided his cock into your hole, slowly pulling on your waist until he was fully inside. You dipped your head on the corner of his neck, slowly moving your hips in a rocking motion. You moaned in his ears like a wanton mess. His arms hugged your waist and pushed you deeper down his cock. He pulled on your hair to continue on leaving marks on your neck and chest. 

His hands wrapped around your neck as he kissed you more, his other hand found to stroke your hardness, your tip leaking a mess down his hand that made his strokes more slick. You were in ecstasy, like the drug had worked itself into your body as well. You went off his lap and sunk down on the bed with your face down on the silk, presenting your behind for him to use. He was like a lion eager for his prey. He took your hair and rammed his cock into you again. Fucking into you with so much force you could feel whatever expensive wood that was used on the bed creak. He panted like a man tired from a day’s work. His other hand pressing down your back so your ass arched more. 

“I am close,” he moaned. 

“Please, general, fill me,” you said. He pushed your face deeper down the bed, it felt as if he was crushing your skull. His thrusts became erratic and labored. The rhythm faltered from his sheer strength. He released with a strong grunt. His seed filled into your hole which made you feel full and warm. He collapsed on your back like a heavy bear. You tried to capture your breath. Slowly pushing him off.  You stood up to take back your toga, the sun peering from the horizon. You sat on the window with a watering can in your hands. You slowly poured water on the bright blue flower on your windowsill, a bag of gold coins next to it. You chuckled, the same chuckle Geta and Caracalla would do. “In vito veritas,” you smiled. Admiring the big man snoring on your bed.

hey y'all I'm back! please like and reblog with your thoughts I'd love to hear them! And if you have any more sweet sweet prompts about Marcus or any of Pedro's characters do send them on my inbox!