#we. do not have the money for Everything so *rolls up sleeves*

[valdrift]

trying to invoke white woman home renovator while i plan how to fix up my parents house

[mountainsandmayhem]

Just One More, Baby

18+, Minors Do Not Interact Pairing: Pleasure!Dom Pike x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.8k Summary: Just a casual evening with your pleasure dom husband and as many as orgasm as he thinks you can handle. There is zero plot here, people. CW: so many orgasms, light bondage, temperature play, use of pet names (baby, honey, etc.) praise kink (obviously, unless you're new here. In that case; hi, welcome, I have a praise kink), aftercare AN: I need this man more than I need food or oxygen or money. I'm out of my mind over him and I curse the day I decided to watch these random ass episodes of The Mentalist. Friendy reminder that I am phasing out my tag list, so please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on the notifications to stay up to date. Thank you so much for reading, where's my Pike Army? XO Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

The warm oil drizzles over your mound, spreading across your hips and cunt. You let out a pained hiss when it hits your sore and overstimulated clit.

“Ouuchh,” you whine, your breathing shudders. 

“You’ve been such a good girl,” Marcus murmurs, watching the oil as it beads and rolls in every direction. “Just relax.” 

You close your eyes and try to steady your breathing. Relaxing the muscles in your arms and legs that have been pulling at the soft silk restraints for god knows how long as Marcus pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. 

He is still dressed, he had only managed to remove his suit jacket and tie before he started. He has the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled to his elbows, still tucked into the dark blue dress pants you picked up from the dry cleaner yesterday. His belt is still on, too, shoes toed off at some point during his slow torture. 

You, on the other hand, are completely naked. A delicate, white silk tie around your wrists that is then looped through the headboard, stretching your arms above your head. Your ankles are held much in the same way, one tie on each ankle, keeping your legs spread wide.

He’s used every means available to him to make you come tonight; fingers, tongue, your small purple vibrator, a dildo, or a combination of one or two of those things. He’s done everything except fuck you. At some point you lost count of the orgasms, lost track of when one would end and the next would start. 

The oil starts to soothe the dull ache he’s caused at the apex of your thighs. Marcus’s intention is never to cause you pain, but tonight you learned that too much pleasure can feel like torture. 

You let out a content sigh, muscles going gooey and pliant. “There’s my girl,” he says proudly, his strong hands coming to your hips, his thumbs needing the muscles along the crevice of your leg and pelvis. 

He clears his throat gently. “I think I counted sixteen.” 

You smirk and let out a small giggle, eyes still closed as you relax into his touches. He kisses the plush skin along your lower belly. His soft velvety lips are gentle, granted Marcus Pike is always gentle. Yes, he’ll tie you down or make you orgasm so many times you black out, but he’s always soft and warm. Always asking for permissions. Always explaining exactly what’s going to happen before it does - not that you have an option, or want an option if you’re being honest.

“Baby girl?” He mumbles, his breath hitting the oil, warming your most sensitive spots. You shudder, an icy shiver running down your spine at the feel of him. “Think we can get you to twenty?” 

His hands move to massage the tops of your thighs, thumbs crawling closer and closer to your pussy. Your clit twitches at the promise of him giving you another orgasm, that blissful tingle causes the tired and overworked walls of your cunt to flutter. Pleasure followed by a dull painful ache waves across your center and mix of a whine and whimper fills the room.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

His thumbs come to carefully pull apart your puffy outer lips. Watching intently as the oil coats your glistening folds. A moan rumbled in his chest, “Beautiful.” 

“I’m sensitive, Marcus,” you murmur, pulling at the silk ties he has your hands bound above your head with.

“I know, this perfect little pussy has taken so much. And you’ve been so brave and submissive. I’m so proud of you, honey.” He places a light kiss on the patch of hair right above your clit. 

Your orgasm happens so quickly and without him even touching you. A lustful gasp leaves your lips as you shake under him. His voice is full of lustful admiration as he says, “Good job, baby.”

Your muscles tense, hands fisting, as the orgasm rolls through you. You whine his name, equally desperate for the orgasm to end but also for it to never stop. “Just relax, that’s my good girl.” 

“Oh god,” your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. 

“Look at me, darling.” Marcus said sweetly, the soft pads of his thumbs running up and down the slick lips of your pussy. 

You look down at him, the soft expression of his face riddling you with emotions. You can feel the tears prickle behind your eyes. Tears of what you aren’t sure. Happiness, that’s for sure. But also a sense of overwhelm and insatiable need, it’s all mixed together. You can stop it, a hot tear runs down your flushed cheek. 

“It’s ok. I’m right here,” He says softly. “You can do this, baby. Just three more, then I’ll run you a bubble bath and give you my sweat pants and all the cuddles. Can you do that? Can you give me three more?” 

“No,” you say through a shaky breath. He’s trying to kill you, you’re sure of it. And while death by orgasm might sound like a great way to go, your pussy is aching and tired. 

His thumbs stop their ministrations. 

“Do you need to use your safe word?” 

You shake your head, “No.”

He lowers his mouth to your swollen clit, lightly feathers his tongue over the tender bundle of nerves. You pull so hard on the restraints that the delicate silk snaps and your hands card through his hair, pulling him back. He has you on that paper thin line of pain and pleasure, but the slight attention to your puffy clit slices through you. “Nonono - please stop.” 

“Do you need to use your safe word?” He asks again.

You shake your head no.

“Do you need me to go get some ice? Make my tongue nice and cold, then make your pussy feel better?” 

“Yes, please.” You pout, sticking out your bottom lip. 

Marcus stands and removes his belt. “Ok baby, but first, my naughty little girl broke her restraints. Arms up.”

You put your arms back above your head and he expertly loops the belt around your wrists. He leaves the scraps of silk that are still around your delicate wrists and then wraps the belt around the headboard.

He stands beside the bed, looking down at you hungrily. “Fuck, I could torture you for hours,” his eyes flick to the alarm clock across the from you and then back to your flushed face. Smirking a little, he corrects himself. “I already have been, so I guess I should say that I will never be sick of seeing you like this. So submissive and sweet. Listening to my every word. Teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” 

He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, you keen into his touch and smile at him. “Yes, I’m a good girl, Marcus.” 

He bends down, kissing your forehead and then the tip of your nose before he walks out of the bedroom. You look him up and down, so sexy in his dress pants and white dress shirt, his strong, veiny forearms on display. You had no idea what you were in for when he ditched the tie and suit jacket the moment he walked in the door tonight. But you knew that look. When frustration etched his eyebrows and a hunger flashed in his eyes. You knew he needed an escape, and you knew it came in the form doing exactly as he says.  

Marcus grabs a small bowl and fills it with ice from the freezer. He grabs you a bottle of water and then pops an ice cube in his mouth, letting the frozen water melt on his tongue as he walks back up the stairs. As he re-enters the bedroom he sees you lying there - spread eagle and arms bound, eyes closed peacefully, long lashes resting on your cheeks. Your swollen tits rise and fall, nipples hard and slightly purple from the rose gold clamps he had on them earlier. You look sinful and delicious. He meant what he said, he could do this to you forever and never get sick of it. But as your pleasure dom he knows he’s going to have to stop soon. The folds of your pussy are puffy and red, he sucks the ice cube harder, making it small enough so he can speak. 

“Goddamn,” it comes out as groan. “You’re so fuckin beautiful.” 

You flutter your eyes open, “So are you.” 

You swear he blushes as a shy smile crosses his face. “I’m going to make it all better now, baby. I’m going to use my mouth to make you come again now. My tongue is nice and cool, it should help with that ache.”

He puts the water on the bench at the foot of the bed and then climbs between your legs, placing the bowl of ice on the bed beside your hip. “Are you ready, baby girl?” 

You gulp before whispering, “Yes.” 

His cold tongue licks a slow, flat, languid line from your entrance to your clit. The cooler temperature of his mouth soothes the burning heat between your thighs. 

“Mmmm - Th-thank you, Marcus,” you hum as he repeats the motion with his tongue two, three, four more times. 

He grabs a new ice cube and pops it in his mouth. As he sucks on it, he grabs a second cube and runs it down the right outer lip of your cunt. He hushes you as you cry out and then does the same thing to the left side. The cube in his mouth has melted enough now for him to continue tasting you. He places the flat of his tongue on your clit and presses down, his hand with the ice cube comes to your right nipple. Ice starts to combat the fire in your veins, and as he trails the ice cube around your nipple, his tongue mirrors the pattern on your swollen nub. 

And then it happens again. For the eighteenth time tonight, your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. Your convulse under his cold tongue and as quickly as the orgasm starts it’s over. You’d think after coming this many times in the last two hours that you’d be satisfied and exhausted, but the quickness of that last one leaves you wanting more.

He stills his tongue and lets you grind on him, the ice cube he was trailing along your body has melted. He grabs a fresh one and traces it along your body as you shamelessly hump your husband’s face.

He brings the ice cube to rest right above your mound, the cold water running down your folds, causing you to hiss as it hits your clit. 

Marcus pulls his tongue away quickly to say, “Come on, baby.” He lays his tongue out for you again and you push your hips into him harder. 

“Fuckfuckfuck - Marcus, I - I’m, oh fuuuuuck.”

He slips the ice cube between his tongue and your cunt and you shatter around him.

“Oh god, mmmmm, yes.” Your voice is hoarse, throat dry from the combination of your rapid breathing and incoherent ramblings throughout the night.

He stays still, letting you control your nineteenth orgasm. His name spills from your lips as you circle your hips. The walls of your pussy clench and release around nothing, slowly and deeply, over and over. Sparks of pleasure light behind your eyes. 

“Marcus. Yesyes - oh my god,” your legs start to tremble as you come down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’ve had so far tonight. 

“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing up your hip bone to your stomach, your navel to your sternum, the swell of your breasts to your neck, and finally your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just one more. Can you do just one more for me?” 

You strain your neck to press your lips to his again. Kissing him deeply and slowly. “One more,” you mumble into his lips. 

“I’m going to untie you for this one. I want to feel your fingers tug at my hair as I suck on that perfect little clit while pushing my fingers against that little spot inside of you that drives you absolutely wild. Is that ok, little one?” 

“Mmm,” you hum. Mischievously adding, “Yes, daddy.” 

Marcus laughs flirtatiously as he releases your wrists from his belt and the torn silk ties. “Are you okay, baby?” 

You nod as he guides your arms down and then situates himself between your soft, plush thighs, sitting back on his heels.

“Do you need a drink?” He asks, grabbing the water from the foot of the bed. 

“Yes, please.”

He cracks the lid and then helps you sit, guiding the bottle to your lips. You sip a little, the cool water soothes your throat. Marcus’s brown eyes bore into you, soothing the rest of your body. “One more, baby,” he whispers. 

You hum in agreement before lying back down in the bed. Marcus leaves your ankles restrained as he unbuttons his dress shirt and then tosses it on the floor. You eye his hard chest and slightly soft belly, a line of dark hair that starts at his navel and travels down to his cock, which is rock hard under his dress pants.

He gives you a shy closed lip smile, “Do you need to use your safe word?” 

“No,” you say breathily.

Marcus grabs an ice cube and holds it in his fist, his lips coming to place lingering kisses on your clit. Making out with one of his favourite parts of you. Kissing and kissing, occasionally running his tongue along it before kissing you deeply again. 

Once the ice cube in his hand has melted, he teases at your entrance with two cold fingers. You cry out, as pushes them all the way in and then he curls them forward, turning you into a moaning mess. You wrap your fingers into his hair like he asked, holding his face against you. 

“That’s my girl,” he says between kisses. “So good for me.” 

He sucks your clit into his mouth, pumping his fingers against your g spot. A pained cry passes your lips, “aah, it hurts.” 

“I know, baby. You’re so close.” He whispers encouragingly, pausing the suckling on your clit, keeping his fingers still. 

“I - I can’t.”

“You can do it, baby. You’re almost there. I can feel you clenching me.” He curls his fingers forward slowly. “Come on, my love.” 

“M - Marcus. It hurts, baby. I can’t. I can’t.” You whimper. 

“Relax, baby.” His free hand presses on your lower belly and the pressure behind your navel becomes nearly unbearable. “That’s it, fuck baby. I can feel her fluttering for me. Can feel your orgasm building. You’re amazing, did you know that? Give me number twenty, pretty girl.”

You whimper again, willing your body to relax. Willing for the dull painful ache to blossom into pleasure.

“Good girl. Just relax,” he presses down on your stomach harder, his fingers still cold inside you as they tickle against the front wall of your pussy. 

You tighten your grip in his hair and he hisses at the pain in his scalp before bringing his lips back to your clit. He sucks it into his mouth loudly, lewd sucking noises filling the room, only interrupted by your mumbles of building pleasure. 

He releases your clit, “Let go for me.”

With a final steadying breath it hits you. Your last orgasm sashes over, erasing every thought until all you are is the pleasure Marcus gives you. Your abused pussy flutters weakly around his fingers as he pumps them inside of you. You gasp and squeal as your body breaks out in goosebumps, but simultaneously glistens with a fresh sheen of sweat. 

Marcus slows his fingers and looks up at you through his lashes. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in awe as the involuntary full body twitching of your orgasm starts to slow.

“So…” he kisses your mound.

“...Very…” he stops his fingers and kisses your hip. 

“...Beautiful,” he starts to slowly slip his fingers out and your body goes slack. 

You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath and find your muscles. Marcus unties your ankles and climbs beside you, pulling you into him and tucking your head into his neck. 

“I love you,” he murmurs into your hairline, kissing you softly. “You did so well for me. Twenty orgasms. My good girl.” 

You roll into him tighter and wince when your thighs squeeze together. 

“Aw, baby. Is she sore?” 

You pull back to be able to look at him. “A little, yeah.” 

“Come here,” he pulls you closer. “Just let me hold you a little and then I’ll run you that bubble bath I promised.” 

“Will you come in with me?” You ask sleepily. 

Marcus laughs gently, “Of course. Whatever my baby wants.” 

You nuzzle deeper into his skin and let your eyelids close. Completely and utterly surrounded by your beautiful husband. 

[floylia]

# MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾

10. Always worth your time 💌

If arrogance is a cloak, he wears it proudly

A golden smile with silver teeth approaches you. His ginger hair falls smoothly in elegant curls, draping near the white headphones over his neck. His red top contrasts the blue hues of his eyes, followed by an expensive car that pops out in the background.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was made with money.

“Heard you need a ride?” His teasing tone continues.

You grin, “I recall, saying no?”

He shrugs, before grabbing your bag from your shoulder, and walking to the passenger seat, holding the door open for you, “And I recall not responding, so where are we going?”

“Supposedly at my student’s house for a tutoring session, but her mother cancelled.”

He gasps sarcastically, “Then I get to have you all to myself today?”

“By whose words?”

“Mine.”

“It better be worth my time.”

He winks, “I’m always worth your time.”

—

If spontaneous is a person, you’ve met him.

“You broke the damn machine!” You whisper-yell to the ginger in front of you whose jaw almost reaches the floor as he looks from left to right, checking for prying eyes.

He sighs in disappointment while sliding the palm of his hand on the window of the claw machine, observing how the plush toy drops back to its friends, “I wanted the duck.”

“You can’t have everything in life.”

“Yes I can.”

You shake your head, “It won’t even scan your card. I think that’s a sign that we need to leave. Besides, these games are a scam.”

“99% of gamblers quit before they win,” He scans his arcade card once again. It’s like arguing with a brick wall. Miraculously, the once “broken” machine finally activates.

You raise a brow, “Embarrassing yourself again?”

He rolls up his sleeves, revealing his muscular arms before circling his right shoulder back and forth, “Watch.”

His gaze focuses on the yellow duck, carefully aligning the metal claw before squinting and pacing around the machine, looking through each window from every angle.

You pinch the bridge of your nose while trying to stifle a laughter.

Then, he presses the button.

Two pairs of eyes follow the claw machine descend, grabbing the toy. It feels like at any moment the metal grip will slip, but it doesn’t.

Because the duck drops in the prize hole.

Childe falls to his knees before thanking the gods above, whispering sweet nothings in the air repeatedly.

Strangers ranging from kids to teens pass by with knitted brows, deciphering the scene in front of them. It takes you courage not to walk away and pretend you never met the ginger.

Thankfully, he stands up and hands you the duck.

“Didn’t you want this?” You ask.

“I did. I wanted it for you.”

“Oh, I—“

“There’s a photo booth over there. We should take a picture,” He points to the silver booth across the arcade before slipping his fingers between your own and dragging you towards his desired destination.

He continues talking, but every word becomes a void. Your thoughts are frozen. Eyes trained on one thing: his soft hands holding yours as his thumb gently circle your skin while he remains unaware.

“Are you feeling well?” He tilts his head, scanning your face for signs of discomfort.

You don’t even notice you’re inside the booth, “Of course! Let’s start.”

He nods, “Alright, what pose should we do?

You scan the tiny space until you spot a box underneath the bench, “Wait! They have props.”

You snatch a Minnie Mouse headband, adjusting it on your head, while he leisurely grabs the Matching Mickey Mouse version.

“Does it have to be the mouse?”

You chuckle, “Scared to relive the past?”

“Shut up.”

The screen starts counting down as you adjust inside the camera’s frame. Childe follows suit before placing his right arm around your shoulder, featuring a genuine grin.

“We should do a couples pose.”

You elbow his stomach, “You wish.”

Four more pictures were taken until the booth starts printing each one in a row.

“Should we grab lunch?” You ask, realizing the time after opening your phone for the first time since arriving.

“Yeah…” He leads the both of you towards the exit. The photo strips on his hands as he scans them individually.

In the first picture you’re wearing the matching Mickey Mouse headpieces.

In the second frame, he makes a giant heart with his left arm, expecting you to finish it. Instead, you do a thumbs up, grinning at him while he smiles tenderly back.

In the third photo your backs are against one another while making gun poses like Mr. and Mrs. Smith. You’re wearing black glasses with a serious expression and he is laughing with messy hair covering one eye.

In the fourth picture, he’s on his knees once again—both hands up in the air as you strangle him on the neck.

In the last picture, he’s wearing a fox hat while you’re wearing a bunny head piece, referencing Jude Hopps and Nick Wilde. His right arm is resting on the top of your head, smirking as you pout, looking up at him.

“Is it that special?”

He hums, eyes still glued on the photos, admiring your beauty, “Very.”

If attraction is a season, now he knows why leaves fall in autumn.

NOTES:

i’m back lol i hope all of you are doing well 😍

i failed my calc test, my grade went from a 96 to an 88, i’m TWEAKING but it’s okay IM COOKED (the asian in me wasn’t working today bruh) i was born a writer not a mathematician. but i’ll bring it up trust

SYNOPSIS: There’s a line Childe knows he shouldn’t cross; A line built on years of friendship; A line that happens to cross you, his best friend’s younger sister, grieving her first love; A line where he plays savior, wears a halo, then feign ignorance, because love is a game for fools—and he happens to be the biggest idiot when it comes to love.

When a new stranger invades your life and an old poet writes back.

CHILDE x FEM!READER

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[virgoilluminati]

Hospitality at its Finest

a Jude Bellingham oneshot

Inspo: Basically i have the shittiest job ever, and the only thing that got me through it was thinking about how jude would comfort me at the end of a long shift. I feel like a lot of you gurlies can relate so enjoy ☺️

You had had the worst day.

Probably the worst day you'd had in years

And the only person you could blame was your boss.

He was an A grade arsehole. He only cared about how much money your restaurant made. How it made him look in front of the restaurant owners.

He didn't care about your feelings, how crying had become a normal part of the shift or how every time he walked in, your stomach tied in knots.

Today was an exemplar of it.

At the beginning of the shift, everything was fairly normal. You were supposed to start at 12pm, but you had come in early, caring for your colleagues and knowing that they would need the extra staff for the new delivery. As you mentally prepared yourself for the shift, you started putting away the new stock and organizing the kitchen.

Quickly looking at your phone one last time, you clocked into work before admiring your lock screen with Jude. After all, all of this was for your future.

As you made your way to the shop floor, it was dead silent. So silent that you knew the second you opened the door in the backroom, you'd be greeted with a mess. But you didn't expect what you were greeted with. Stacks of dishes towered precariously, remnants of ingredients sprawled across counters, and an unmistakable odor of burnt food lingered heavily in the air.

Your closest colleague Haley was on the ground, covered by stock boxes. When she see's you walk in, she smiles, but the exhaustion in her eyes betrays her forced cheerfulness. Without wasting a moment, you rush to help her up, setting the boxes aside.

"Wha-"

"Don't ask. It's Jamie. He overestimated our multitasking skills again. We could use all the help we can get right now."

You nod, taking in the chaotic scene. Rolling up your sleeves, you dive into the mess, prioritizing tasks in your head.

The second the doors to your restaurant opened, a wave of eager customers flooded in, adding to the already hefty workload. You had only just made your way out of the heavy stock room before you were serving your first customer, your manager already shaking his head.

You grabbed a notepad, scribbling down order after order with precision. As you do such, you realise that no one has set up back of house, and whilst everyone was dealing with the stock, you'd be doing both positions, already.

Oh gawd it was going to be a long day.

The next issues happened just after the lunchtime peak. Your manager—ever the perfectionist—decided to go out and back home to get changed. He didn’t tell any of you, just putting your colleague Hetty in charge.

Now, for all of the reasons you loved Hetty, she was a terrible team leader. She spent half of the time bossing everyone around, whilst the other half chatting and gossiping about the managers. So when you realized that she was in charge, you knew it was going to turn sideways.

What made it even worse was halfway through the shift you suddenly got cramps. It could only mean one thing: your period.

You knew better than to miss your orders, so you managed to deal with the cramps and act normal. But as soon as anyone’s order was mentioned, you gritted your teeth. Deep down, you could feel your cramps churning up. But you managed to keep your cool. Or at least until Hetty began barking orders at you, telling you that while you were making a cheesecake, you also needed to clean the station, get the ice cream ready for service, and get the lunch menu ready that was just coming out.

Needless to say, you didn’t really listen to her orders, instead focusing on the four cheesecakes you needed to bake, twenty lusty turkeys, and the rest of your workload that’s coming in. You’d maybe gotten halfway done with the orders when suddenly your stomach muscles tightened and spasmed at the same time. It hurt to breathe in, so you tried to breathe in as slowly as possible, praying to God that the next person who insulted you would take it back as soon as they said it.

Now, you’re screwed, because between the pain in your stomach and the pressure from the customers, it was overwhelming. To make matters even worse, your restaurant owner Jiah, a certified misogynist, stood next to you as you prepared each of the dishes. Every mistake you made, or anything you said to Hetty, was being monitored. At first, it was fine—still stressful, but you were so preoccupied that you didn’t care. Until you accidentally spilled three of your cheesecakes on the ground.

Every time someone shouted at you, it felt like someone was digging into your sides. Your vision blurred slightly as you bent down to clean up the mess. As you rose, you saw Jiah’s disapproving glare. You braced yourself, knowing a reprimand was imminent.

“Do you even know how much those cheesecakes cost?” Jiah hissed, his face reddening.

"Sorry-"

You nodded, biting your tongue to keep from snapping back. Losing your temper wouldn’t help anything, especially not with Jiah watching your every move. Taking a deep breath, you focused on the tasks at hand, prioritizing the most urgent ones. Hetty’s voice cut through the noise of the kitchen, but you tuned her out as best you could. There was no time to waste arguing with her or explaining why you couldn’t drop everything to clean the station right this second.

The cramps were relentless, and you clutched your stomach briefly, willing the pain to subside. A few of your colleagues noticed and offered sympathetic looks, but they were just as swamped as you were. It was clear that everyone was feeling the strain of the lunchtime rush.

You managed to get the cheesecakes into the oven and started on the turkeys. The repetitive motions of seasoning and prepping gave you a momentary distraction from the pain. But it wasn’t long before Hetty was back, barking orders again.

“You still haven’t cleaned the station! And where’s the ice cream?” she demanded.

“Working on it,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. But the frustration was building, and you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You blinked them back, determined not to let anyone see you break down.

Finally, a small reprieve: the cheesecakes were done, and you could focus on plating the desserts and getting them out to the customers. But just as you thought you might be able to catch your breath, Jiah appeared again. He didn’t say anything, but his disapproving glare spoke volumes.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. When you accidentally spilled three of your cheesecakes on the ground, Jiah’s look was withering. He didn’t need to say a word; his expression made it clear he was counting this as yet another mark against you.

“Get it together,” you heard him mutter under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. You nodded, biting your tongue to keep from snapping back. Losing your temper wouldn’t help anything, especially not with Jiah watching your every move.

Taking a deep breath, you focused on the tasks at hand, prioritizing the most urgent ones. Hetty’s voice cut through the noise of the kitchen, but you tuned her out as best you could. There was no time to waste arguing with her or explaining why you couldn’t drop everything to clean the station right this second.

Just as it began to calm down again, Jiah's glare disappearing from notion, Hetty came over to apologize for being stressy.

"Sorry for earlier," she said, her tone uncharacteristically soft. "I know I was a bit much."

You accepted her apology with a nod. "It's okay. We were all under a lot of pressure. I was just about to go to the toilet."

Before you could make your way to the restroom, a call came through the kitchen, telling everyone to gather in the staff room. You tried to hold yourself together, though you could feel tears threatening to flow. The cramps were still gnawing at your insides, and the stress of the day had worn you thin.

As you and the rest of the staff assembled in the cramped room, the air was thick with apprehension. Jamie, another manager, stormed in, his face a mask of fury. He didn't waste a second before launching into a tirade.

"I just got a bollocking from the owner! What the hell happened here?" he bellowed. "This is so embarrassing! We've had multiple complaints from customers, dishes sent back, and unacceptable delays. This is not the standard we uphold here!"

His words were like blows, each one landing heavily. You stood there, silent and still, trying to absorb it all without breaking down. The cramps were relentless, making it hard to concentrate on anything other than the pain.

For about forty minutes, Jamie continued his verbal assault, highlighting every mistake and misstep. You could feel the tension in the room, everyone too afraid to speak or move. As he yelled, you just stood there, taking it in, feeling smaller and more defeated with every passing second.

"This has to stop now," Jamie continued, his voice growing louder. "I expect better from all of you. No more excuses. The owner is furious, and honestly, I can't blame him. Today was a disaster!"

With that, he stormed out, leaving the staff in stunned silence. You could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but you fought to keep them at bay. The pain in your stomach and the weight of Jamie's words were almost too much to bear.

Hetty gave you a sympathetic look but didn't say anything. Everyone slowly dispersed, heading back to their stations or taking a moment to collect themselves. You made a beeline for the restroom, finally letting the tears flow once you were safely behind the closed door.

Just as you began to take a couple of minutes to calm down, Jamie pulled you over.

"Hey, I need to ask you something," he said, his tone softer but still urgent. "Are you willing to leave early today?"

You had already had to cut a shift recently, and your hours were pretty low. "I really need the hours, Jamie. I'd prefer to stay."

He frowned. "I need to get rid of some staff because there's too many on right now."

You tried to politely refuse again, but before you could finish, he called out, "Hayley! Do you want to leave early?"

"Sure," Hayley replied without hesitation.

"See, it's not personal," Jamie said, turning back to you. Feeling completely deflated, you turned to get your stuff and clock out.

As you gathered your things, Jamie turned to you one more time. "By the way, you sat down too much today."

You were gobsmacked. "I didn't sit down at all."

"No, you were," he insisted. "And that's not acceptable."

You went to protest again, but he cut you off. "No, you were, and that's not acceptable."

Feeling a mix of frustration, exhaustion, and defeat, you bit back any further response. As you clocked out and walked out of the restaurant, you felt the tears begin to well up again.

By the time you got on the bus, the tears were streaming down your face. You found a seat at the back, hoping no one would notice as you buried your face in your hands and sobbed. The day's events replayed in your mind: the stress, the pain, the unfairness of it all. It felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on you, and you couldn't hold it in any longer.

As the bus moved through the city streets, you cried, letting out all the frustration and sorrow. You knew you had to face another day tomorrow, but for now, all you could do was let yourself feel the pain and hope that somehow, things would get better.

When you arrived home, you tried to wipe away your tears, determined to put on a brave face for Jude Bellingham, who had just returned from football camp. You were emotionally drained but wanted to be supportive and positive for him.

As you walked through the door, Jude was in the kitchen, looking relaxed and cheerful. He noticed your subdued demeanor but decided to wait before saying anything.

"Hey, how was work?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

"It was... busy," you replied, forcing a smile. "But let’s not focus on that. How was camp?"

Jude’s face lit up as he started recounting his experiences. "Camp was fantastic! We had some intense training sessions and a lot of fun. You won’t believe the prank Trent and I pulled on the new guys. We got them to believe they had to complete this ridiculous obstacle course to join the team."

He continued with animated enthusiasm, "And then there was the friendly match against a local team. Trent and I were trying out these new moves, and it was amazing to see the crowd’s reaction. We felt like rock stars!"

You nodded and smiled at the right moments, trying to engage with his excitement, but your mind kept drifting back to the stress of the day. Despite your efforts to seem interested, you felt a growing sense of overwhelm.

Jude’s stories flowed effortlessly. "Oh, and the camp mascot incident was hilarious. Trent and I ended up in the costume, and we had this impromptu dance-off with the kids. It was one of those moments where you just can’t stop laughing."

As he chatted, you found yourself struggling to keep up the façade. Your responses became more mechanical, and you occasionally glanced at the clock, feeling the weight of your exhausting day pressing down on you.

Jude seemed to sense something was off but kept going. "You know, I was telling Trent about how you and I used to go to that little café downtown. He said he’s been there before and loved it. We should go sometime."

You forced a laugh and nodded. "That sounds great."

As dinner preparation continued, you made an effort to stay present, but the stress from earlier was starting to take its toll. You kept insisting you were fine, even though you felt increasingly overwhelmed.

In the midst of this, you were preoccupied with trying to balance cooking and maintaining a cheerful demeanor. As you pulled a dish out of the oven, you accidentally brushed against the hot rack. The sudden sharp pain in your hand was like a jolt that broke through your emotional walls.

You cried out and rushed to the sink, holding your burned hand under the cold tap, your composure finally shattering. Tears streamed down your face as the pain seemed to trigger a flood of emotions from the stressful day.

Jude, who had been in the living room, heard your cry and the sound of your sobbing. He rushed into the kitchen and saw you with your hand under the tap, tears flowing freely.

"Hey, what happened?" Jude asked urgently, moving quickly to your side.

"I—I burned myself," you managed to say through sobs. "I’m so sorry... I tried to keep it together, but I couldn’t."

Jude gently took your hand from under the tap and inspected the burn. His concern deepened as he carefully wrapped your hand in a clean towel.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry, m’love. It’s okay—speak to me,” Jude said, his voice filled with concern as he moved to your side.

“What do you mean? I’m okay, I just burned myself,” you tried to explain, though your voice was trembling.

“Y/N, do you think I was born yesterday? I know my girlfriend, and I know when she’s upset. What happened?” Jude asked, his tone gentle but firm.

His insistence broke through your remaining resolve. You burst into tears, the emotional strain of the day combining with the pain of the burn. “I—I had such a terrible day. Jamie was so harsh, and everything seemed to go wrong. I was trying so hard to keep it together, but I just couldn’t anymore.”

Jude’s expression softened, filled with empathy and concern. “No, don’t say that. You’re not stupid. You’re my Y/N. You’ve been through so much, and you’ve handled it with so much strength and grace.”

He gently took your hand from under the tap and wrapped it in a clean towel. Pulling you into a comforting embrace, he continued, “Your a trooper you know.”

You clung to him, the warmth of his embrace providing a much-needed sense of security. Jude held you close, his arms wrapping around you with tenderness. He stroked your hair softly and whispered in your ear, “You’re amazing, you know that? You’re allowed to have bad days and to feel overwhelmed. I’m here to help you through it, no matter what.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, letting the tears flow freely as he continued to hold you. Jude’s soothing presence and gentle touch helped ease the burden of the day. He spoke softly, his voice full of love and reassurance. “You’ve been so strong, but it’s okay to let go and lean on me. I’m here to support you, to lift you up when you need it.”

Jude carefully wrapped your burned hand in a clean towel, his touch gentle but deliberate. He then pulled you into a comforting embrace. “Why don’t you head to the living room and take a breather? I’ll sort out dinner. And try not to make any more of the place look like a disaster zone, yeah?”

You managed a weak smile as you headed to the living room, still sniffling. The sounds of Jude bustling around in the kitchen—pots clattering, the hum of the stove—provided a bit of distraction as you settled onto the couch.

A few minutes later, Jude walked into the living room with his phone in hand and plopped down beside you. He placed his phone on the coffee table and began gently wiping away the tears from your cheeks.

“I don’t want anyone treating you like that,” Jude said firmly, but with a soft edge. “I’ve had a word with the higher-ups about Jamie. It’s not on.”

You looked at him, surprised. “You did? How’d you manage that?”

Jude grinned. “Let’s just say I’m good at sorting things out when it comes to my people."

You chuckled despite yourself. “Well, thanks. I didn’t think you’d go this far.”

Jude gave a cheeky wink. “I was gonna sort it anyway, oh, also, um well now seemed like the perfect time.”

"Jude-"

He pulled out his phone and showed you the screen. “I’ve had a chat with my agent. "

"What?!!"

"Got you a photography gig lined up. It’s something you’ve always wanted to do. Figured now’s as good a time as any.”

You were stunned, your eyes widening. “What-? How-When? How did you even know I wanted this now?”

Jude’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’ve been paying attention, love. You think i haven't notice your Pinterest boards? Or your amazon wish list?”

You laughed, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “I don’t even know what to say. This is amazing.”

Jude squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t have to say a thing. Just remember, you’re brilliant, and you deserve all the good things. And if you ever leave me for a glamorous photographer life, just make sure to give me a shout-out in your interviews.”

You playfully nudged him. “Oh, so you’re worried I’ll become too famous for you?”

Jude grinned. "If that means sharing a bit of the limelight, so be it.”

You leaned into him, feeling a mix of relief and affection. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

Jude wrapped his arms around you. “I’m the lucky one. Seeing you happy is what matters to me. Now let’s enjoy the rest of the night. And if dinner turns into a burnt mess, at least we’ll have a laugh about it.”

Jude’s comforting presence and playful banter started to lift the weight of the day, bringing a renewed sense of hope and connection. His support and Brummie humor made the evening feel a lot brighter and more manageable.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Of Cupcakes and Skulls | Part 8

(A/N) Shopping episode!

Pairing: single dad! Mafia! Simon x baker! Reader

Warning: kissies, fluff, Simon is fucking smitten, a lot of money spending, little spice

Synopsis: Based on this post by @lunamoonbby

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

When you walked into the boutique, you were surprised that it was empty. While you had never shopped there, you had walked by multiple times with friends, and it was usually rather full. But no, there was not a soul, besides Simon, two staff members, and you.

“Oh Simon, it’s good to see you. How is Millie?”

An older woman walked out from the back and right to the man beside you, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Imone, it’s good to see you too. Millie is fine, she will probably be mad that we didn’t take her with us when she finds out we went here. And thank you for clearing out the shop for us, I appreciate it.”

She waved her hands in the air, smiling at him.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Anything for you.”

Her warm, friendly eyes flickered to you, a grin taking over her mouth.

“And who is this, if I may ask?”

You quickly introduced yourself, your smile widening when Simon hastily added ‘My girlfriend.’.

“Oh, Simon! She is way too pretty for you.”

She grabbed your cheeks lightly squishing them as she grinned at you, before she turned to Simon, chuckling.

“Just kidding, just kidding. Now, what can we do for you?”

Simon rolled his eyes in a good-natured manner, leading you further into the establishment.

“We need a dinner dress for her. Something elegant, but simple.”

You nodded along, smiling as you watched the Imone rush through the store, picking out dresses and handing them to what you assumed were her assistants, who carried them to a dressing room. While you were completely enamored by her, Simon took the opportunity to look around, picking out a few things and handing them off as well. Once they were both satisfied, you were hurried to the dressing room.

You tried on dress after dress, parading it in front of both Imone and Simon, but after you were done with the first ten, none of you were too happy with any of them. As you walked out in the eleventh dress, you noticed that Simon was on his phone, typing away again, not even looking up and you felt your heart break a little. He probably hated dress shopping, after all, what man would actually enjoy that?

With a quiet sigh, you walked back into the changing room and pulled the curtain close behind you. But before you could call out to one of the assistants to help you out of the dress, the curtain was pushed to the side and Simon entered.

“Is everything okay? You were gone so quickly, I didn’t have a chance to look.”

His eyes found yours in the mirror, concern evident.

“You were busy on your phone, I…I just thought you were tired of seeing me in the umpteenth dress.”

He chuckled darkly, his hands quickly finding your hips as he carefully pulled you back and against his chest.

“Darling, I will never tire of seeing you. I don’t care if you’re in a ballgown or in the same shirt you’ve worn for the last three days. You will always look ravishing and I will always want to see you. I promise.”

He peppered featherlight kisses against the skin of your neck as you relaxed against him, a content smile on your lips. One of his hands drifted to the back of your dress, where he skillfully popped the buttons until the sleeves started to slip down your arms. Out of reflex, you lifted them to keep the fabric from exposing yourself, but when Simon’s warm hands settled over your wrists and gently pulled them down, you didn’t fight it.

“Let me see them…”

He hissed as soon your breasts were fully exposed, nipples quickly hardening under his gaze. You watched in the mirror as his hands lifted, cupping them and humming appreciatively as his thumbs started to rub over your perks. A low moan escaped your lips, your head falling back against his chest, eyes lidded as you gazed up at him.

His eyes were dark as he drank you in, fingers softly pinching and pulling as you felt yourself clench around nothing. You needed to be filled so badly, but he paid you no mind as you quietly whimpered. Only when you whispered his name did he finally look down at you, a smug grin on his face as he took in the state you were in.

“Ssshh…not here, my love. Only I get to hear you when you finally scream my name.”

Another whine left your lips at his words, this one in frustration as he chuckled in amusement. His fingers tugged on your nipples one more time before he lowered his hands until they were wrapped around your waist. One quick kiss to your temple, and he took a step back, coldness filling the space where he once was, but his hands remained on you, keeping you up until he was sure you wouldn’t collapse.

Your breaths still came out in little pants as he let you go, looking around the dressing room before he picked a dress out from underneath the others and hung it on top.

“Why don’t you try this one next?”

With those words and a shit-eating grin, he left the dressing room. You took a few more moments to calm yourself down before you called in one of the assistants and changed into the dress Simon had picked out just minutes before. And you loved it.

It was a beautiful off-shoulder dress with a flowing skirt that reached just beneath your knees. The sleeves were layered and crossed in front to form the bodice. It was made of soft and light satin with a layer of gorgette over it, creating a slight shimmering effect. Once you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you. The color made your skin glow, and the cut hugged you in all the right places.

While you were still standing in the changing room, slowly spinning back and forth, the assistant came back with a pair of heels.

“Mister Riley said to bring these to you. Said they would go nicely with the dress.”

You nodded and held onto the wall as the woman carefully helped you step into them. A relieved sigh left your lips as you noted that the heel wasn’t too tall and appeared to be more of a block than a stiletto. They were surprisingly comfortable to wear as you stepped out and walked to where Simon and Imone were waiting.

The moment the woman caught sight of you, a loud gasp escaped her, and she turned to Simon, whose eyes were slowly moving down your body, a hungry look in them.

“You look fabulous, darling.”

You grinned at Imone and quietly thanked her before your eyes focused on the man before. His hands were curled into fists, which rested on the top of his thighs and he looked as if it took everything within him to not pounce on you that very moment.

“We’ll take that one, as well as the shoes.”

Instantly, you tried to reach behind you, your fingers searching for the price tag, but Simon just chuckled, knowing what you were trying to do.

“Don’t worry about it. They don’t have price tags here.”

He got to his feet and slowly stalked towards you, wrapping his hands around your waist the moment he was close enough. Involuntarily, you immediately relaxed against him, leaning closer out of instinct. He grinned down at you, gently pecking your lips before spinning you around and sending you back to the changing room with a light pat against your ass.

By the time you were back in your own clothes, Simon had already paid and was waiting for you on the couch. The moment he heard you approaching, he looked up from his phone, a soft smile on his face, you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“The bags are already in the car. Ready to leave when you are.”

You nodded and looked around. If you were honest with yourself, you could spend hours in this store. The dresses weren’t all; they also had a huge shoe section and an entire room just for accessories. But for today, you were more than happy with what you had tried on what Simon had bought you.

“Let’s go.”

He nodded and got to his feet, his hand immediately finding yours and holding onto it. Both of you bid goodbye to Imone - who had you promise to stop by again soon and bring Millie next time - before you walked back out into the street and to the car. Once the both of you sat inside, and Simon was about to start the engine, his phone pinged and he pulled it out, a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Millie’s classes are ending early today. Do you mind if we pick her up?”

You grin, already excited to see the little girl again.

“Of course not!”

Simon smiled, gently raising your hand to his lips before pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles.

“Let’s go then.”

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Tags: @lunamoonbby @distinguishedprincesstrash @xanvasy @reader-1290

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[sstargirln]

Step daddy Patrick because he would be the broke 30 something year old who married your mom for money 🙏

❞ ᝰ .ᐟ  stepdaddy!patrick!!!!!!!!!!!!

you’d kept to the sidelines at your mom’s wedding, sulking behind a glass of champagne, watching as her new husband worked the room. patrick was all smooth smiles and overplayed charm, slick as the pomade in his hair, making sure everyone saw him as a perfect new addition to your mom’s life. 

but you knew better. you’d seen patrick before he’d found his way to your mother’s side—scraping by on short-term jobs and chance tennis wins, living out of his car. you could imagine exactly how it’d played out. some charity gala that mom’s friend has forced her to go – for her spirits. patrick’s invite came from some college buddy who’d made it big and felt a pang of pity for him, the old friend who hadn’t quite managed to keep up.

she’d worn her best jewelry, a tight dress. bid at the auction. and patrick, like the magpie he is, had seen her cash, her flashy diamonds . . . the promise of everything he lacked. 

it was obvious what he was into her for. and it wasn’t her face. maybe her body. but the dick must’ve been good, because she said yes when he asked, only a few months into dating. 

and now, here he was, sliding effortlessly into his role, his hand on her waist, his eyes occasionally drifting your way. 

it’d been months since you seen him. a whole semester, and was it bad that he got a whole lot hotter – maybe the sleazy confidence was part of it?? oh well, absence makes the heart grow fonder. and your heart wasn’t the only thing fond of patrick. you were soaked, and you couldn’t tell what it was about him that got you all riled up like this. 

maybe the way he loosens his collar, roll up his sleeves. the way his shirt stretches across his broad shoulders when he takes off the suit jacket. or the low, unfatherly grin he gives you when he catches you glaring. the rake of eyes over you from head to toe.

“hey, sweets,” the trill of his voice cuts through the air, smooth and almost mocking as he envelopes you in a hug from behind. you hadn’t even realized you’d lost sight of him in the crowd. “how’s it going? didn’t get a chance to talk to you during the ceremony. well, fuck, obviously,” he murmurs, his voice low in your ear. he’s clutching a glass of whiskey in his hand, the one with his fresh, new wedding band glinting in the light. “when’d you get here?” 

“only jus’ before the — the thing." you wave your hands around aimlessly. "mom flew me straight here from school,” you stammer, shifting in his arms so you’re facing him. fuck, he looks even better up close.

“that right?” he says. he smirks, hand resting casually against your back. “missed all the fun stuff pre-ceremony then.” 

“yeah, guess i did,” you reply, forcing a smile, trying to keep your voice steady, but it comes out too quiet. 

“you look good.” your stomach twists. his voice is too low, too husky to be a general compliment. not the kind of compliment you should be hearing from him. 

“met any of the groomsmen yet?” he continues casually. “gon’ have a hard time keeping them away once you do.” he takes another long sip of whiskey as he unravels his arms from you, and then it's back to the burning graze of his eyes across your body. like he’s undressing you with his gaze. 

"i've missed having you around. 's been too quiet without you."

you’re looking up at him with wide, unsteady, fuck-me eyes that you can’t control, and he’s staring down at you with increasingly dark ones, and it doesn’t take long before he’s pushing you away from the crowd, eyes darting across the hall to make sure no one’s looking too hard as he pushes you into the room behind the bar. we got ready in here, he’d said. you could tell. littered with suit jackets and stray cufflinks. solo cups and balled-up socks. smelled of cigarettes and cologne and beer, a stale smell that reminds you of the frat boy you were sure patrick had once been. 

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, doesn’t do anything. just watches you as you linger by the door. "come here," he says, voice low, and you do, you fucking do, because his eyes are trailing across your body, your face, your lips, and you feel like you’re burning alive.

he reaches out to cup your face in his hands. hooks his fingers under your chin, tilts your face up toward his.

"fuck, i forgot how pretty you are."

he shoves you against the wall, hands gripping your waist, and you’re breathing hard, heart pounding in your ears. he’s kissing you, and it’s slow, deep. his tongue in your mouth — you can taste the whiskey on his breath. tongue brushing against the seam of your mouth, coaxing you to open for him.  you can’t think. can’t move, no way this is happening. this is disgusting! filthy! but you're dripping with arousal and patrick’s lips feel like heaven against your skin as he trails them down your neck. 

he’s grinding against you like a little boy at prom, and you can feel how hard he is."been thinking about this, fuck – this body since i proposed to your mom," he rasps. you nod desperately into his shoulder when he grips your thigh, hiking up your skirt. his fingers slip beneath your soaking panties, rubbing teasingly over your clit. you gasp, hips bucking into his touch.

"that's it, baby," he groans, fingers dipping lower, teasing your entrance. "gon’ make you feel so good." he plunges them inside you within seconds, curling, twisting, fucking you with his fingers hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

he kisses down your neck, teeth grazing your skin, and you're panting, whimpering, because it feels so fucking good, and you don't care anymore, don't care that he's literally your stepdad, don't care about anything except the way he's touching you, the way he's making you feel. 

"gon’ make you cum," he promises. "make you cum on my fuckin’ fingers, baby, and then i'm gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name."

and you believe him, because he's patrick – something about him makes people forget themselves. you’d seen it happen, over and over. with your mom. she’d softened under his touch, let him take up so much space in her life, her home, her bank account. it wasn’t like her. it wasn’t like you either, and yet here you were, humping into his fingers, your own tangled in his hair as he kissed you with fervor. 

"fuck –" you whine, "please – i need it – need you inside me."

he smirks against your lips, fingers still pumping. “you want your new daddy’s big cock? huh, baby girl?” he purrs, and you nod frantically. 

"yes. yes please, daddy," you whimper, "please, i need it, please."

he pulls his fingers out, and you whimper at the loss, but then he's unbuckling his belt, and he's shoving his pants down, and his cock springs free. and it's huge, thick, the tip already slick with precum – you're drooling.  

he bends you over the desk like you’re in a fucking porno, your cheek smushed against the cool wood. he kicks your legs apart, lifts up the skirt of your dress. he's rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance, you're panting — desperate, needy. pretty soon, he’s thrusting in and out of you at a brutal pace, fingers fisting at the satiny fabric of your dress.  "fuck, baby," he grunts, "this pussy's mine now. all mine." he reaches down, grabs your ass, squeezes, and you moan, arching into his touch. he's hitting deep, so fucking deep, and you feel like you're gonna break . . . shatter! 

the desk's creaking, the room's spinning, and you're trying to hold on, trying to stay grounded, but it’s too much. he leans over you, chest pressed against your back, one hand gripping your hip, the other tangled in your hair.  "gon’ fill –  fill you right up, kiddo," he promises, "pump you full. you want that, hm?"you whimper out a yes, unable to say much other than that single syllable, shaky and unsteady. 

he groans, hips snapping faster, harder, and you can feel him getting closer, can feel your own orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. “fuck, ‘m gonna – fuck!”

"that's it," he pants, "gon’ – fuck, gon’ cum for me, huh, baby girl?” 

and then he's there, and so are you, and you throw your head back with one last lewd screech, praying to god that the music outside’s still loud, the wedding party isn’t listening too hard.  

once he’s finished with you, he leaves you limp on the desk, the air thick with the scent of him—whiskey, sweat, and something unmistakably patrick. you’re still trying to steady your breathing, your legs weak beneath you as you lean against the edge of the desk. 

patrick’s shirt is half-untucked, his sleeves still rolled up as he adjusts his belt with a smirk that’s so casual it almost makes you angry. “nun’ to say, baby?”

you should. you should say something—anything—maybe a protest, a complaint. but your words are stuck somewhere between your chest and your throat. “figured as much,” he murmurs, almost to himself, like he knows exactly what’s running through your head. “gon’ want to fix yourself up before heading back out, sweets. don’t need anyone getting any ideas.” he wraps a coil of your messed up hair around his finger as he talks, patting your head once he’s done. “mom’s probably waiting, huh?”

¡! ❞ © sstargirln 2024

[nicosraf]

It's my birthday! And Angels Before Man's second birthday from the original publishing! And almost three years since the original draft of it! Wow! Thank you all a million times for being here. Really, genuinely

I'd like for this extremely long post to be happier ! But a lot of people are really troubled by the United States election. There's a lot of fear-mongering online about what'll happen and a lot of real threats to marginalized people in the U.S. and abroad. I don't talk about my own identities a ton. I'm a gay, trans, Mexican from the US-Mex border. The vast majority of my family, community, and friends are immigrants of varying legal statuses. I could lose everything!! I fear for my family! My friends! For my body and my heart!

My mom called me yesterday morning, though, basically asking for an explanation. She told me she was shocked, she was scared, and I said that so was I, then we said, "Pos ni modo." Ni modo!! Oh well!!! What can we do now? We can keep doing what we've always done. Survive. That's all you really have to do at the end of the day, you know, survive.

My family is from a rough Mexican city that fell apart when I was little, a place where my own family has been kidnapped and bodies have been left mutilated in the street for everyone to see. The radio spoke in code to let you know not to go outside when things got really bad. There used to be mariachis in the street to greet American tourists but by the time I was little, they were mostly gone. Boarded up, abandoned stores and boarded up, abandoned homes. I remember being scared, and I remember not knowing what to do listening to a shoot out right outside. I remember my heart stopping when my family was stopped by the soldiers and they demanded money out of us for the first time.

(And I can talk also about living on the other side. The hyper policing, ICE, the racism when my school played against other schools, my parents forbidding me from speaking Spanish outside our Mexican enclave and to stay close to them, and I can talk about the aggression from the white nuns at my catholic school toward the latino kids, I can talk about having to see the border patrol every day just to go to school, I can even talk about Trump-supporters coming down to the border and making a mess of the place and I can talk and I can talk but why? what for??)

My family is all (mostly) still around. I'm here also. We're still here. All of that horrible stuff happened and is still happening to us y ni modo!! Ni modo ! The fight continues. You'll be fine if you allow yourself to be, and if you're not, then you really gave it your best shot, and the people around you will see that you did.

I know for a lot of people there might be the urge to spiral into doom and grieve, but you don't need to borrow the grief of the future. Today you can get up and roll up your sleeves and clean the house. That's what my parents tell me to do when I'm sad. Ponte a limpiar. Ponte a trabajar. I used to get mad at them for it, but in the end, you're only in charge of yourself and the places/things that you upkeep.

I was raised around nopales (prickly pear cacti) and, many years ago, I threw one out of my parent's house because I didn't know what to do with it. I didn't want it. I figured it'd get eaten by something or die somehow. The nopal started growing instead, and it's still there. It even grew a flower, though it hasn't given us a pear yet. My dad doesn't like the pears/tuna but my mom does, so we went out to check on it and while we were there, we heard a bird singing. He looked up and he told me it was a cenzontle and that it was singing a little song for the nopal. I had this thought about how even though I basically tried to kill it, the nopal was growing, thriving. it's an easy metaphor to make, but the earth gives you simple lessons sometimes.

(The monarchs pass by every year. They don't even do it legally. They cut the border line and don't wait their turn to talk to the Customs guys!!! They just fly overhead then look back at us like we're crazy. How can we explain this to them? How do I tell them that there's a place that hates us both)

All you have to do is survive. Whatever happens to me or my family or my friends, we will find a way to grow and find birds to sing along with. If there's so much grief in the future, then we can grieve when that time comes. In other words, canta y no llores. All you have to do is survive. Take it hour by the hour. Pick up the broom and get to work while you can.

Because I've talked too much, I wanted to remind everyone that my ebooks versions of my writing will always be free to read.

Maybe it'll come as a shock to you that a lot of ABM was about coping with losing a home forever, of remembering the feeling of wall paint that you will never feel again. But it's about survival too. I hope you all take care of yourselves as much as we can. This isn't a sad post! Go out and enjoy what you have! Go for a snack. Protect yourself however youre able to. I'm so lucky to have a birthday, to have lived this long. I hope my work will live on no matter how much the world might despise it. I've survived this far despite the world too, and so will ABM... I hope ! :)

[lycanlupins]

┌─ “ „ EYES LIKE SKY ─┐

Roy Harper x F!Reader - Chapter 1

Cam Girl Au! [+18]

Sex toys, D&S elements, controlled orgasm, pet names

AN: im kinda back?? idk im trying this out because i really like writing again 🥹 lmk if y’all like this!! remember to like + rb + leave a comment if you enjoyed it!! Anyways, enjoy Chapter 1!!

You heard a familiar ping come from your laptop, a sign that everything was up and working on your end.

“Great…” you sigh and roll your eyes, “Time for another show.” You’re a cam girl, and a pretty successful one at that, but it never failed to make you rethink your career path when you logged in at the same time every night like clockwork. You didn’t have a specialty so to speak but you did have a specific clientele, so you did what you do best; angle your camera, adjust your lingerie and press the glaring red go live button to start your show.

[r0binhood]: how’s our favorite girl?

[seraphicsiren]: tired, been pretty low energy lately but i’m ready to please as always!

Your number one fan, r0binhood, was finally there and that meant you’d be taking home at least $100 that night.

[r0binhood]: good, hopefully that means you have all of your toys charged ;)

Gag. He was probably some creep in his 50’s, rubbing one out on his wrinkly cock while you talk him through it but fuck it, his money was a nice cushion while you got back on your feet at the new apartment you were renting.

“Hi boys, let’s start shall we?” You purred, pushing the straps of your nightgown down ever so slowly just to tease your viewers. Suddenly you hear a familiar notification, your first tip of the night. A few tokens here and there from desperate men trying to get your attention but you knew better. You knew if you wanted the real money, you would wait for him.

r0binhood has sent you 50 tokens.

There it is. You push down your nightgown, exposing the lacey bra underneath, a slew of tips flooding your notifications once more. They never got to see your face, it was your one rule, and it kept the mystery alive for them. You won’t have a breach of privacy and they can imagine you look like their wildest, wettest dreams.

[r0binhood]: private show?

[seraphicsiren]: you know the rules, private shows are 500 an hour.

He wouldn’t, you knew better than to expect a man to buy that sort of time on one of your shows. Sure, you may make a few hundred per show along with your other forms of income but a private show? In your dreams. You were asking $25 an hour for your time, it wasn’t much but most men would tune out then and there.

r0binhood bought a private show.

The screen went blank, no notifications to be had and then an empty chat popped up.

[r0binhood]: hi princess. just thought i’d spoil myself and see what you can do for me with the time we have here.

You were used to entertaining multiple men, and sometimes others, at the best of times on your streams. This was scary, this was something you were completely foreign to.

[seraphicsiren]: you have an hour of my time to tell me to do whatever it is you’d like. my attention is all on you.

Your hands were shaking, sweaty, and clammy at the thought of performing for one person. You had been intimate in the past, that wasn’t the issue, he was paying for you to please him this time. And while yes, you knew what he liked more or less, he was still someone completely stranger to you.

[r0binhood]: why don’t you start off with the bullet, don’t take anything off, just use the bullet on yourself.

You grabbed the compact vibrator from your nightstand, flipping the switch to the on position as it came to life with a whirring sound. Most often than not, you were in control of the speed and rhythm, but tonight he had tricks up his sleeve.

r0binhood redeemed 300 tokens for bullet control.

Shit. You begrudgingly sent the link for a 10 minute session on your vibrator.

[seraphicsiren]: use those 10 minutes wisely

[r0binhood]: i’ll only need 5

An immediate slow vibration started against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your nerves.

“Fuck…” you moan under your breath. Usually men like him would spend their 10 minutes of control on the highest setting, they never knew what you liked. They thought all women must like a high intensity session when it just felt boring to you, but you faked orgasm after orgasm when they were in control to make them feel better.

Not this time. No, this man knew what he was doing, he slowly upped the intensity until he heard that hitch in your breathing, the one that indicated that it must have felt good.

“Mmnh…that feels so good, christ…” you lolled your head back, rutting against the vibrator and a pillow under you for better friction. He must have noticed the way you were reacting because he immediately switched up the intensity for a split second to grab your attention.

[r0binhood]: needed your attention sweetheart, i want your eyes on me, i want to watch you come undone.

This man… he commanded his attention, and he commanded it well. Why was this man behind the screen making you feel horny for some god forsaken reason? Was it the dominance? The control he had over you at this moment? Fuck it, you didn’t care, it just felt so damn good.

Another minute passed before he grew bored of the intensity, turning it up a setting or two.

“Shit!” You squeaked, panting like a dog at the feeling between your legs. You were soaking, dripping all over your pretty red sheets and pillows, grinding down for some semblance of friction against your puffy, needy cunt.

Soon enough, the setting he was at was beginning to make you see stars. Babbling nonsense and a string of curses as you kept humping your pillow like a horny teen until—

“SHITSHITSHIT!” You felt that tight coil in your stomach pop, squirting all over your sheets and everything within a small distance of you. You wanted to collapse, you could feel your legs turn to jelly as you tried to crawl back to your laptop.

[seraphicsiren]: 5 minutes…left…

You knew he was chuckling behind his screen, because how the fuck did he get you to squirt on camera with just him in control.

[r0binhood]: i’ll let you be for tonight, here’s the rest of my tokens. i’ll be back tomorrow night if you’re online. see ya princess.

r0binhood tipped 1000 tokens.

Not long afterwards you ended your stream, too spent and shocked to continue for the night. You shut your laptop, cleaned your bed and made a beeline for your kitchen.

“How the fuck did he do that…” you racked your brain for the amount of times you had actually cum on stream. You could count the times on one hand and now make that two hands. You were still throbbing, rubbing your legs together while you washed some dishes in your sink. You never noticed the window in your kitchen was facing another occupied apartment until just now.

“Huh…wonder who lives there.” You watch the light from their tv flicker different colors. Suddenly you see movement, someone getting closer to the window. Holy fuck.

He looks directly at you, a smile wide on his face as he waves and opens his window. You were awestruck for a moment, he was gorgeous. Not in a model way but something different. He was rugged and manly but still somehow read as boyish. After a few moments you join him in opening your window, leaning out ever so slightly.

“Hi! I’m Roy, nice to see a friendly face across the way for once!” He shouted.

“I’m Y/N, I’m guessing this place was empty for a bit?”

“Yeah, this isn’t really the nicest building around but it's got charm! What do you say we meet for coffee sometime? I haven’t met anyone around my age in forever.”

“Yeah! How does tomorrow morning sound?”

He smiles a toothy grin. God he was cute, missing a tooth by his right canine and light ginger stubble littered his chin. He nodded while you were busy taking in every feature of his face and he chuckled.

“Hey, get some sleep, you look out of it.” He shook his head, still smiling from ear to ear. You couldn’t tell if you were throbbing from the mind numbing orgasm you had earlier or if his kind smile had your brain in a tizzy, either way you needed to take care of that feeling before bed. You finished up dishes in the kitchen, closed your window and headed straight for the cum soaked bed.

You were honestly too tired and too horny to care so you grabbed the nearest towel and dropped it on top of your sheets. You could worry about that in the morning, right now you needed sweet relief. And with your final spur of energy you grabbed your dildo and got right to work at the thought of that hot ginger across the hall.

➸➸➸

[deliciousangelfestival]

Silent Heir, Hidden Dangers - 3

Character: Lawyer!Bucky x Female Character

Summary: She suddenly inherits a fortune from an unknown father, navigating dark secrets with lawyer Bucky Barnes in a suspenseful journey of deception.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , -

Main Masterlist

As Bucky introduced Y/N to Mark, an unsettling tension filled the room. Underneath the mask that obscured his face, Mark raised his voice, frustration evident in his tone. "Why should I care? She never appeared, and suddenly she's the one who got the money?"

Y/N, caught in the crossfire of familial disputes, felt a surge of confusion and anxiety. "That money? I didn't ask for any of this!"

Mark, his emotions boiling over, directed his anger at Bucky. "You damn traitor!”

Maintaining an air of composed detachment, Bucky responded, "This is your father's wish. I'm just carrying out what he asked me to do.”

As Mark clicked his tongue, dismissing the gravity of the situation, he menacingly declared, "This matter will be done in a second." With a swift motion, he aimed the gun at Y/N's head, ready to pull the trigger and end the unfolding chaos.

However, Bucky, ever the cunning strategist, had another trick up his sleeve. With a quick click of a button hidden in his pants, the window, previously shattered and exposed, suddenly closed down, forming an impenetrable barrier. 

It was a modification Bucky had made, revealing a level of preparation that caught Mark off guard.

Seizing the opportunity, Bucky, quick on his feet, threw something at Mark and his partner. The distraction allowed Y/N the chance to free herself from the remaining bindings.

Y/N's eyes widened as she watched Bucky, in a breathtaking display of agility and skill, engage in a fierce battle against two adversaries. 

The room became a blur of swift movements and calculated strikes, with Bucky seamlessly evading and countering the relentless attacks.

His every motion was a testament to years of training, a dance with danger that unfolded with a fluidity that defied the chaos surrounding them. 

Bucky's movements were deliberate, each punch and kick executed with precision, creating a dynamic spectacle that left Y/N both mesmerized and awestruck.

With Mark and his partner subdued and unconscious, Bucky swiftly took control of the situation, grabbing Y/N and efficiently collecting everything of importance in the room. 

As they prepared to make their escape, Y/N, exhausted from the ordeal, stole a weary glance at her step-brother sprawled on the floor.

Noticing her hesitation, he said, "Leave him. He's not our concern right now.”

Together, Bucky and Y/N hurriedly left the compromised "not-so-safe" penthouse. As they navigated the dimly lit corridors, Bucky murmured with a hint of satisfaction, "Luckily, I put that unit into insurance."

Y/N, gritting her teeth in frustration, rolled her eyes at his nonchalant remark. "Insurance? We just got attacked, and you're worried about insurance?"

Bucky, undeterred, replied, "It's not just any insurance. It has some unique perks.”

And he dropped another bombshell. "You have three other siblings."

Y/N, incredulous, halted in her tracks. "What? You should've told me that before all this chaos!"

Bucky, unapologetic, responded, "Would it have changed anything? The less you knew, the safer you were."

Y/N, exasperated, retorted, "Safe? So, the other three want to kill me too?"

Bucky, with a sardonic grin, confirmed, "Oh, for sure.”

Y/N, clicking her tongue in frustration, muttered, "I felt safe already," her words dripping with sarcasm. 

Both of them got into the car and left. The penthouse, now behind them, seemed like a distant memory as the labyrinth of family secrets expanded.

As they navigated the city's shadowy streets, Y/N couldn't shake the burning question. Turning to Bucky, she asked, "My other siblings. Do they have the same mother?"

Bucky, pausing for a moment, finally responded, "Different. You have two brothers and one sister. Each of them has different mothers."

Y/N, incredulous, couldn't contain her surprise. "What? You've gotta be kidding me."

Bucky, chuckling with a hint of irony, explained, "Your father Max was a womanizer.”

Y/N, piecing together the fragmented puzzle of her father's life, couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and understanding. "No wonder why my mother hated him so much.”

Y/N, still grappling with the revelations, muttered, "So, not only do I have to survive attempts on my life, but I also have to navigate through sibling drama. Great.”

Caught in the crossfire of her father's complex legacy, Y/N couldn't help but question the man beside her. "Since you're close with my father, are you the same womanizer like him?"

His mind wandered to the times he had to drag Max out of clubs, deal with irate former flings throwing tantrums because Max never replied to them, and navigate the intricate web of Max's romantic entanglements.

After a moment of contemplative silence, Bucky couldn't suppress a wry smile "Yeah, I guess so."

In the dimly lit room where Mark had awakened, he fumbled with his phone and made a call. "We messed up. She's still alive.”

On the other end, a mysterious figure studied Y/N's documents and photos in the darkness. Mark's voice echoed through the line, "I'm sorry, I failed."

The room plunged into silence before the unseen figure, frustration palpable, stabbed a photo of Y/N and Bucky taken from a traffic camera. "Fine, I'll do it myself.” The person who just spoke is Mason, Max's oldest son.

A mature woman's voice sliced through the quiet, accompanied by the moonlight revealing only the glimmer of a large jade ring on her hand. "Make this right. She's just one person." 

The woman, known as Mrs. Mallory Wolfe, exuded an air of authority that hinted at a deeper connection to the unfolding drama.

Another woman, her voice filled with a seasoned assurance, joined the conversation. "She's alive because Bucky is beside her." 

This was Madeline Wolfe, Max Wolfe's second wife, her calm demeanor masking the complexity of her motives.

In the shadows, another woman with a younger voice, tinged with nervousness, questioned the unfolding events. "Do we really have to do this?" 

The voice belonged to Marianne Wolfe, the youngest stepmother in the enigmatic Wolfe family, a woman caught in the intricacies of loyalty and fear.

Mason, wearing the weight of responsibility, responded with a voice that carried his family's legacy. "Don't worry. I will take care of it."

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4 ,-

Author Note :

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

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Author Note: Hey everyone! 🌟 Your input means the world to me.

If you've got any cool ideas or prompts, whether for this series or any other series, feel free to share them with me!

Just drop them in my ASK/SEND REQUEST box.

Can't wait to hear your awesome suggestions! 🚀💬

[andkisses]

♡ just about anything | jay ♡

late nights, when really, both of you should have been asleep a long time ago, but who knew this game of monopoly would last so long?

♡ jay x gn!reader | wc. 1.5k ♡ genres/tropes: domestic, competitive couple that won’t quit, staying up way too late ♡ mentions of/warnings: pet names, food, lmk if there’s anything else! <3 ♡ a/n: a repost and revamp of one of my very first writings from YEARS ago </3 (from that blog i accidentally deleted <///333) 

♡ masterlist ♡

With the rest of the lights in the apartment off, the lone one above the kitchen table casts a warm glow into the darkness. The light illuminates the board, littered with green houses, red hotels, and Cheez-Its—you ran out of hotels about an hour ago (but who’s to say?) and needed something to represent a double-hotel on the board. There’s a notebook on the table that keeps getting passed back and forth, covered in numbers and tallies in two different handwritings. It’s currently functioning as a paper bank account, since the game has escalated far beyond the cash given  in a standard Monopoly box.

Your eyes are tired, nearly burning with ache; it’s been too long, and it’s very much past your bedtime. But the both of you are stubborn, and horrifically competitive–especially when it’s just the two of you. He seems just as drained, eyes dropping and his head propped up on a closed fist. The loose hoodie slides down his arm, pooling around the elbow, and he uses the sleeve of the other to wipe at his eyes. Just seeing him sleepy makes you sleepy, and your head is bobbing up and down. It would be so much better to be curled up in his arms right now. The game is one of chance at this point, all up to the dice roll. The only safe spots on the board are your own; everything else is meaningless to you. You know you want to land on your properties and not his, for those Cheez-Its are threatening and—

“Did you just eat some of the board?” you ask, the dice still caught between your hands. 

Jay looks up at you and blinks slowly, still chewing on the stolen Cheez-It. He swallows and takes a sip of his nearly empty glass of water before answering. “No.”

You shake your head, tilting it to one side. “No what?”

“No, I didn’t eat the board. I took it from the bowl, like a civilized person.” He points with his free hand lazily at the blue plastic bowl the Cheez-Its had been poured into when the demand for new hotels had arisen. How long ago had that been? Half an hour? An hour? Hours, plural? You couldn’t tell anymore. This game felt decades long yet you know you started it today. Or, was it really yesterday?

You reach forward and draw the bowl towards you, eliciting a tired pout from your boyfriend. “Well, you shouldn’t eat these either. We may need them.”

“And how could we do that, love?" Jay reaches to pick up the notebook and it flaps under its own weight as he lifts it into the air. “We’d need more money to upgrade any house or non-Cheez-It hotels, and we’ve already borrowed from an imaginary bank three times. Inflation is running rampant throughout this town. We’ve ruined the economy. We’re monsters.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jay shrugs, placing the paper bank back on the table before sniffling and wiping at his eyes again, this time with both hands. The ball cap he wears now sits askew on his head, and you, out of habit, reach forward to fix it, leaning against the table to help span the distance. Your fingers brush against the edge of the board, and the more you lean to reach across the table, the more you end up on top of the board. You’re out of your seat now, feet pressing on toes to get the height and length you need to reach to fix the hat.

And before you know it, you’re face to face and practically on the table. Jay leans forward and bumps his nose against yours while you adjust his hat. “We should stop,” he says plainly.

“Why? So you can win?” you mutter, half grumbling. One hand fixes his hat while the other acts as a brace against the table.

“No, so we can stop,” he says again, one hand reaching to rub simple patterns into the top of your hand. “The Cheez-Its will still be there in the morning. If we need it, Jake can bring his copy so we can have more actual cash to use.”

A quick hah escapes your lips. “You just want to win.”

“No, love, I just want to sleep.”

With his hat now fixed, you carefully lean back, peeling yourself off the table and into your seat. You’re silently thankful for the still intact Cheez-Its. Had they been crushed, you’re sure you’d given up, now feeling more tired than you were before your hat-fixing expedition—and that was already fairly tired. You’re about to refute his case, saying that the two of you should stick it out until the end, that surely it can’t be too much longer, when Jay takes his hat off—the one you so painfully just fixed—to run his hand through his hair before putting it back on, slightly crooked.

“Jay... I just... fixed... that.” You bite your lip, too tired to be angry out right but too tired to realize it also doesn’t matter.

“I know you did,” he replies, yawning into his sleeve. He begs again, a hint of desperation growing into his voice. “Can we please stop?”

You lean forward, resting your chin on the edge of the table and staring up at him from across the board. “Does this mean I win?”

“If you want to, love,” he says, scooting away from the table to stand, silently hoping his movement away from the game will pull you away as well. “If it means we can stop.”

A smile graces your lips as he walks around the table to your side. You take the hand he offers to help you up, holding tight. You pull his arm toward you, hugging it as you both shuffle forward into the darkness, the Monopoly board abandoned. “Thank you,” you say, stretching to place a kiss on his cheek.

“If it makes you happy, love,” Jay begins, his voice soft and tired, “I’d do just about anything.”

“Just about?” you tease, crawling up onto the bed and beneath the covers. “Meaning there’s things you wouldn’t do, hm?”

“Yes, just about,” he replies, mimicking your actions. Even half asleep, he still makes sure you’re tucked safely against his side, with his arm curled around your waist and your head resting on his chest. You hear his heartbeat, smooth and steady.  You wrap your arms around his own waist, a soft smile against your lips.

He continues, murmuring sleepily into your hair after a kiss to your temple. “Just about, because if you had asked me to continue playing with you I would have fallen asleep at that table.”

“And what’s so bad about that?” you whisper back, titling your head up to see him. Moonlight streams around the edge of your curtains, providing just enough light to see.

“I really wasn’t looking forward to waking up with Cheez-Its ingrained into my forehead,” he replies with a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t think the look’s for me.”

You laugh, snuggling in closer against his hoodie, and he laughs too. “I think you would have looked great,” you say against his collarbone, eyes finally lulling shut.

“Do you now, love?”

“Yeah, orange is really your color.”

You feel his arm leave your waist and a single finger place itself beneath your chin. You allow Jay to tilt your head up before you open your eyes. He levels you a stare long enough for you to think you’ve done something seriously wrong before a laugh makes its way out, and before you know it, he’s placing happy, smiley kisses across your cheeks, your nose. He stops before your lips. His eyes, even tired, are still starry and glittering. His voice has reverence when he speaks. “You know I love you with every fiber of my being, right?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I do.”

Jay bumps into your nose, hand playfully squeezing back at your waist. “That’s where you’re supposed to say I love you, too.”

You shake your head, fake-frowning. “But you haven’t kissed me yet?”

“Is that a suggestion or a demand?” he asks.

You shrug. “You choose.”

He leans forward, giving you the slightest, softest peck before pulling back.

You pout, chin tilting down. “You call that a kiss?”

“No,” he laughs, kissing the side of your cheek right beside your lips. “I just love your pout. I love everything about you.”

As he kisses the other cheek, just as close to your lips, you sigh. “I love you, too, Jay.”

And this time, he really does kiss you, although chaste and sleepy, but an honest kiss regardless. He tucks you back under his chin, wraps his arms around you so he knows you're safe. You’re nearly asleep when he finally replies, his own voice laced with sleep, and it’s enough to make you smile. Enough to know that he really would do just about anything for you. It makes you wrap your around him just a little tighter, make you smile just a little wider.

“I love you too.” That’s what you’d said. He says, in the darkness and honesty of your room, “I know.”

[animeomegas]

How would Shikamaru and his alpha react to finding out he’s pregnant again? Like they planned on one or two and already have three and now pregnant with a fourth because their birth control keeps failing. Especially if people think Shikamaru is doing it on purpose because of his obsession.

I have a feeling that this isn't what you had in mind lol, but here we are XD

cw: abortion

"It's positive?" you asked as Shikamaru came out of the bathroom, looking exhausted.

"Yep," he said, collapsing down on the sofa next to you with his eyes closed. You heard the muffled sounds of some sort of children's toy activating as he sat on it, but you both ignored it.

"Again?"

"Yep."

"Damn," you let out a breath and sank back into the couch until you were fully reclining just like your mate.

You both sat in silence for a while as the information sank in. You already had three children, an eight-year-old daughter, and two sons, five and three respectively. Your eldest was the only one you had planned.

"What are we going to do?" you asked finally. "We can afford it money wise, but we're spread thin as it is, another baby would-"

"Stop talking," Shikamaru said firmly, stopping you in your tracks. He opened his eyes and heaved himself upright. "If you speak about it out loud, my obsession instinct might...it might..."

"It might trigger and get weird like last time," you finished in sudden realisation, remembering the way Shikamaru had switched over night from booking an abortion to being distraught at the thought and refusing to follow through. "It hasn't triggered yet?"

"No," Shikamaru said calmly. "So, I'm going to fetch a clan medic right now, just for a 'routine health check', of course. Nothing else."

He was planning to trick himself into denial long enough to have an abortion. You shouldn't be so surprised by how intelligent your mate was after all these years, but you still found yourself impressed by his quick thinking.

"Right," you agreed. "Do you need me to come with?"

"No, it's just a routine health check, there's no need," he said, calmly getting up from the sofa and walking to the door. You followed him out and watched him slip on his shoes.

Everything was moving quickly, but you felt like the quickly forming burden had just been lifted from your shoulders. You simply didn't have the time and energy to give to another pup, it wouldn't be fair on anyone.

"And after my health check," Shikamaru continued, opening the door. "I am booking an appointment to have all my problematic organs removed."

That made a lot of sense. You had already been sterilised once but the surgery had reversed itself, something you only realised when Shikamaru already had the positive test in his hand. If he simply didn't have the necessary requirements for a baby, there would be no more babies. And maybe, just maybe, you'd finally have a form of birth control that actually worked.

"I'll watch the pups, and I'll be here when you get back," you promised, trying to reassure him as best as you could without mentioning anything specific.

Shikamaru nodded, took one final deep breath, and then stepped outside, shutting the door gently to avoid waking the two youngest pups up from their naps.

You stood for a moment, processing everything that had just happened, before a wave of determination washed over you. Your mate was going through something difficult that he had to do alone, so you would do everything in your power to make sure he came home to a clean house, delicious dinner, hot bath, and a massage.

You rolled up your sleeves, energised and ready to make the most of the remaining 20 minutes of nap time. It was time to clean like you'd never cleaned before.

[jimblejamblewritings]

the fake date plot | part. 8

Summary: Gryffindors, seventh years, classmates, unrequited love. Just a few things Y/N and James Potter had in common. When a brilliantly dumb plan is hatched the two end up getting something a little different than what they wanted.

Warnings for the Series: oh, this is a slowburn now. Or at least that's the plan.

Warning for this chapter: smut

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Word Count: 2.0k

Previous Part | (Series Chapter List)

Heads turned when you and James walked into the Great Hall laughing as you held a bunch of stuff and he held ten times more in his arms than you did. It took a lot of convincing you but James Potter had money and liked to spend it. Your ideas of currency were very different and to him all this money was like spending only five galleons. So you let him get a bunch of stuff for your birthday. 

James was pleased with himself. Giving gifts to people made him feel so good inside. He hated receiving a bunch of them though, probably because he could have whatever he wanted without question. When you reached the table you set down everything and started laughing as you took the stuff from James so he could sit down as well. 

“Can you believe we both forgot our wands and we were already at Hogsmeade?” 

“That’s a lot of stuff,” Sirius said. 

“Yeah. I couldn’t get this one to stop so I now have a bunch of stuff. Thank Merlin I need it though.” 

Lily cleared her throat. “Are you coming to the party tonight? I mean it’s your birthday after all.” 

“I’m coming. No point in staying in my bed alone just because it’s my birthday.” You turned to look at James, pointing at him. “I do not need a new outfit.” 

He held his hands up in surrender, claiming that he wasn’t even thinking about making or buying you an outfit. For the rest of Saturday until the party, you didn’t see James at all. He and Sirius were leading quidditch drills in preparation for their upcoming game. Remus and Peter looked up when you entered their dorm. They were getting used to you just showing up. Remus was about to go back to looking at his scrapbooking project when you shoved an invitation in his face. 

“To Sir Peter and Sir Remus, the girls of dorm room nine would like to invite you to our getting ready event.” 

“Do you do this often?” 

You nodded. “Life’s more fun this way.” 

Without any hesitation, the two agreed to come with you. The girls’ dorm was arranged like theirs. But the decorations threw them for a loop. Bubbles, music, and a very sweet scent colored the air. When the marauders got ready for a party, the most they’d do is play music. This was basically a whole new world. They were pushed into fancy skincare and a scalding shower with water from the depths of hell. 

“Remus, how is your hair dry already? I wish I had your porosity.” 

“My what?” 

Mary laughed. “Porosity. It’s just your hair type, never mind. Are we all ready to go?” 

Your rather large group took your time heading down to the Slytherin dungeons. Even though you guys didn’t get along very well, Gryffindors and Slytherins were always invited to each other’s parties. The bass of the music could be heard from outside the common room. You couldn’t help but laugh at Regulus and Sirius already bickering, both with an empty cup in their hands. They had started making up but obviously it took some time and they were still brothers after all. Friendly bickering was in their dna. 

You spotted James on the couch… talking to Xeno. Taking in a deep breath, you went over anyway. Your boyfriend turned his head first, smiling as you came over. The blond boy next to him was slightly stunned. You wanted to adjust but chose not to. The literal climax of your plan was happening tonight and you still wanted it to feel as real as possible. James looked good sitting on the couch and everyone noticed as they snuck glances while doing their own thing. It was the color of a shirt peeking out under the rolled up sleeves of his quidditch jumper and the rips in his jeans. He has to do it on purpose and is aware of what he looks like. 

James extended an arm and his hand fell on your waist as he pulled you closer. “Hi, bug.” 

You sat on his lap and laid your head on his shoulder trying to ignore the piercing eyes from the boy you actually cared about. But you had to. Looking desperate for Xeno wasn’t the way to win him. James wrapped his arms around you while you held his drink for him, not bothering with getting one for yourself. 

“What up?” 

“Tired,” you said with a sigh. 

“You just got here.” 

That seemed to draw the attention of all your friends who were hoping you wouldn’t leave. Even if you were all doing your own thing separately, everyone still needed to be there. James covered your body as you wiggled around trying to get comfortable. Without a second thought, you pulled down the sleeves of his quidditch jumper. He laughed as he realized what you wanted. 

“I know but I was up really late and I kind of have a headache now.” 

“You do?” James asked in earnest. 

“A bit.” 

“You don’t have to stay. We can cancel all our plans tonight if you want to get some rest.” 

The tone of James’ voice made you look up at him. There was no playfulness in his eyes. He was very serious about everything. You gave him a smile. 

“I don’t want to cancel our plans. I’ll just take a nap here and then I’ll feel better.” 

“Okay. Accio, headphones.” 

James handed them to you. Music was already playing, at a very quiet volume, when you put them on. You figured they must have been connected to an enchanted music player. Adjusting yourself once more, you leaned back against your boyfriend with a smile and closed your eyes. Your friends swooned as you did so. In the middle of a loud and hectic scene, you were peaceful. 

James observed his talk with Xeno, trying not to be suspicious. Every so often, he would cast his eyes down to your sleeping form. He was still interested. He wouldn’t keep looking at you if he didn’t care at all. 

“Alright guys, I’ll see you back at Gryf,” James said as he got up and picked you up again. “I’m getting my lady to a bed and then we can keep the party going.” 

Since the younger kids were coming back to Slytherin from Hogsmeade to start their Halloween party, the older students were going to move to Gryffindor in about twenty minutes. They waved their goodbyes to James and promised to find him right away when the party moved upstairs. 

You woke up as James entered the common room and started towards the stairs back to his dorm. 

“Why do we always end up like this?” 

James looked down. “Hello, bug, how was your nap?” 

“Delightful. And I’m now very excited.” 

“Excited?” 

“Yes.” 

James wore a goofy grin as the two of you went inside the dorm. The two of you stood side by side in the bathroom as you brushed your teeth and freshened up. Your favorite songs played while you shaved and James trimmed all his body hair low. You moved to the room without thinking. You both sat in the middle of his bed, now with an awkward silence. 

“Should we lay down and just let it happen naturally? No one else uses this enchanted muggle projector so the professor just lets us keep it. There are a good amount of movies here.” 

“Okay.” 

You and him got comfortable on the bed, cuddling ever so slightly. James’ left hand sat just under your breast as his thumb gently caressed what was beneath it. Your hand snaked down his body and took an experimental squeeze of his pants.

The movie went on without more touches until halfway through. You stiffened up before relaxing at the fingers going under the waistband of your panties. He turned your head to look at him. James watched with lust in his eyes as he watched his fingers pleasure you. It was all of five seconds before your lips crashed onto each other and you moved to the edge of the bed. 

Nearly all of the sixth and seventh and dreaded eighth years moved up to the party in Gryffindor. Not seeing James right away, the others decided to go looking. Remus squeaked and everyone else peeked into the crack in the door. James’ hands squeezed your ass before moving slowly up your body until they were underneath the jumper he made you, fingers trying to undo your bra. You both laughed as he struggled a bit. Eventually, the bra was off, leaving you in just your panties and sweater. 

“They’re looking. How long do you think before they close the door?” James whispered against your lips. 

“I give it two more minutes. Is it just the marauders?”  

“I can see Dorcas, Lily, and Xeno’s friends. The plan is going swimmingly.” He leaned back, not caring that the others could hear. “Hey, you know we don’t have to do this. It’s okay.” 

You leaned back and that made James move his hands from under your jumper. 

“Bug, I’m serious. I will not have sex with you unless you’re one hundred percent sure.” 

“I want to. I’m just nervous.” 

James chuckled. “Hey, I’m nervous too.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Do you not believe me?” 

“You always seem so sure of yourself.” 

“Being sure of school or quidditch is a lot different from romance or sex. Let’s take it slow, okay?” 

“Okay… Can I take your shirt off?” 

“Yeah, love. Can I take off yours?” 

You nodded. The door slammed followed by someone yelling sorry the moment James started lifting the hem of your sweater. The two of you couldn’t help but laugh. Reassuring James now that everyone was gone that you actually did want this, you continued feeling up and down each other’s upper body. He groped at your boobs, running a thumb over your nipples. 

“These are gorgeous.” 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m serious. So fuckin gorgeous.” 

“James,” you moaned as he took one in his mouth. 

“Can I fuck you, love?” 

“Absolutely.” 

You scurried up onto the bed in the most undignified fashion, making James laugh. He followed suit. James groaned as he started to sink into you, pausing when your nails dug into his skin. “Are you okay?” 

“It’s just hurts a bit.” 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

“No. Keep going.” 

He went slower, kissing you as he did to try and distract you. When he sunk in all the way, he checked in on you again. James waited for you to open your eyes. 

“We good?” 

“Yeah, please move.”

Your mouth dropped open as James started pumping. He smiled in satisfaction that you were feeling just as good as him. Maybe he knew what he was doing, just a little. You whimpered his name a little as you grabbed at his biceps. 

“You feel so good, Y/N. So warm and fit me just right.” 

He also felt warm inside you. He shouted your name before finishing inside you. The sheets stuck to your naked and sweaty bodies as you both tried to come down for your highs. James pulled you closer until you were on top of him. 

“That was amazing. I’m really glad we chose to do it with each other.” 

You pecked him on the lips. “I really enjoyed it… We should probably put on clothes before everyone comes in.” 

“We probably should. They’ll still be in your dorm. Do you want to join them after?”

You nodded your head as you got off the bed, James staring at your naked body. He grabbed your hand and pulled himself out of the sheets. The two of you stood side by side, comfortably naked, as you brushed your teeth and washed your face before getting in the shower together. James added a warming spell to the pile of freshly done laundry so you could have your pick of warm clothes. 

“Is it bad that I want to just stay here? Round two maybe.” James’ words were muffled as he put on a t-shirt and a jumper. 

You laughed. “Plenty of time for that later, pretty boy. Let’s go see our friends.”

(part 9)

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[tavolgisvist]

Allen Klein is a businessman. He has had dealings with a guy called Tony Calder who worked as a partner for Andrew Oldham. The three of them managed the affairs of the Rolling Stones. Oldham & Calder left the Stones scene, but Klein stayed. … Tony has something on his mind that is why he is taking me to work in his Morgan. He says: ‘Allen Klein says you are in his way. Allen says you are blocking him from meeting the Beatles and doing business with them.’ I am amazed. I say, ‘I never give Allen Klein a thought from one year to the next. What is the guy talking about, me being in his way?’ … So I tell Tony if Klein thinks I am in his way, and as I’m not in his way, I’d better show the guy I’m not, by moving out of the way anyone else who might be in his way. I tell Tony to tell Klein I am (a) not in his way, and (b) if anyon I tell Tony to tell Klein to call. I go into work at Apple and I see Peter Brown, Brian’s old pal, mine, the Beatles, Apple’s and so on. Peter knows many things. I say, ‘Allen Klein wants to meet the Beatles.’ ‘Does he ever,’ says Peter. I ask: ‘Is there anyone in his way?’ Peter says, ‘Only the Beatles.’ He explains Brian didn’t like Klein and the Beatles had never heard anything about him that attracted them either. … I say there is this guy Klein who badly wants to see them. John says yeah, Klein’s been trying to reach him but he won’t take the call. I do some hype for Klein and say he is a strange cat, hated by some of the people who met him and also by some of the people who have only heard of him. George says, ‘he sounds really nice’, and I say that if they want someone to run their money scene then Klein may be the man. But I also say they had better look at him very hard and ask around Jagger and Donovan and the others he handles. I mean really check Klein out. But see him too. See him face to face. John says OK, I’ll see him and the others rhubarb a bit and that’s the lunch over. I call Les Perrin and tell him tell Klein to call and Klein does and then he flies over really fast, like yesterday. He meets John, they talk all night and boy do they dig each other. John comes into the office and says, ‘Don’t care about the others, don’t give a shit … but I’m having Klein, he can have all of my stuff and get it sorted out.’ John says there is too much fear around, everyone must stop being frightened, everything is going to be fantastic, like Klein is going to be the genie of the lamp. Paul, George and Ringo get to meet Klein and he begins to act as if he is half-hired but maybe not. He says he will save Northern Songs from the wicked Lew Grade. He says he will buy NEMS Enterprises. He says he will take EMI to the cleaners. In the end he doesn’t save Northern Songs and he doesn’t buy NEMS Enterprises, but takes EMI and Capitol to the cleaners and to hell and back… …

It is 1970. Paul still doesn’t like Klein but John digs him more than ever and George digs him more than that and Ringo doesn’t mind him. Paul? He is so uptight about Klein he only leaves the Beatles, that’s all. Klein and me meet the press and TV and all that; together we sit on a sofa and talk about Paul. Mr Klein, why doesn’t Paul like you? Mr Taylor, why doesn’t Paul like Mr Klein? I don’t know, don’t ask me, man, don’t ask me. Paul releases his album and Klein releases the Beatles’ album and they both make a million and Klein has had Phil Spector remix Paul’s song ‘The Long and Winding Road’, adding a women’s choir and some violins etc. Paul thinks this is the shittiest thing anyone has ever done to him and that is saying something, but Klein laughs up his silk sleeve and releases ‘Long and Winding Road’ as a single anyway and still with Phil’s new arrangement. Up there in Scotland, Paul McCartney, one of the four owners of Apple, the company formed to give total freedom, artistic control, to struggling performers and writers, wonders what went wrong, when even he can’t control his own work. I am wondering too. Everyone is wondering. But Klein isn’t wondering. He knows, he knows. …

Money is pouring into Apple so I guess you could say that Allen Klein straightened Apple out as the Beatles wanted it. The only thing is … where is Apple and where are the Beatles? If you find out, please let me know, I haven’t seen them in a long time. The way I see it, Klein is really bringing a whole lot of people down, including me sometimes and I have a deal which keeps me at home writing stuff like this so what am I whining about? Well, being as how I brought Klein to Apple, by making sure the way was clear, I owe someone, somewhere something, that’s for sure. What is it and what have I done? Our Apple is all chewed up. It is the most ungroovy place I ever knew and I have to say it, we have all let it happen, all of us, but me, I told Tony Calder to tell Klein to call and if I am going to make any more mistakes about Allen Klein, then let it be writing this, let it be.

(Derek Taylor, As Time Goes By, 1973)

(Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI)

[anomaly-076]

If the tkdb ghouls were the whb devils, who do you think would be who?

If Tkdb boys were WHB demons

‎‧₊˚✿Masterlist✿˚₊‧

♦ Ooh a fun concept! ^^ *rolls up sleeves*

  ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Jin

Jin is an absolute Belphegor with the whole 'leave me alone I'm sleeping thing'

Plus he has his trusty servant to take care of everything

Tohma

For the same reason I'm gonna say Tohma is pretty much Beleth

A trusty servant taking on the responsibilities of leading the kingdom/house

Lucas

Okay, not a devil, but I'm gonna say Minhyeok

Our trusty childhood friend who's all prim and proper

And him and Ppyong are amazing besties just like Lucas and Kaito

Kaito

To simply put it: Kaito is an idiot

Kinda like Ppyong, who mostly says stuff that make you wonder if there's a single braincell happening (doesn't matter, he's my son either way)

They both also see themselves at a prince in a shining armor

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Alan

Rarely talks, doesn't really show much emotions...

That sounds like Zagan to me!

Another thing they have in common is their interest in working out

Leo

*sigh* this might be controversial, but I don't hate Leo

Otherwise I'd hate to assign him one of my favorites: Paimon

They're both these cheery and cutesy social media fiends

To be fair: Paimon is a bit controversial too

In a way that there was a bit of drama bc regarding people's HCs (one person was hypocritical about them not adhering to canon)

Sho

Bike boy Sho gets a bike boy Amy

They're both pretty chill despite coming off as a meanie at first

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Haku

Our ever-so-cheery Haku can be no other than babyboy Gamigin

They're both so energetic and adorable ^^

Towa

This is more based on my personal HC, but Morax strikes me as the type to be able to talk to plants/animals and to attract them

Both our boys are on the quiet side and morax is definitely the romantic type too

Ren

In the original design, Gusion was made out to be a gamer in a onesie and so I HC that it was his "teenage" phase he hasn't grown out of and only chooses to dress more mature

They both would absolutely love to have a movie/gaming marathon with MC

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Taiga

Ah, guns ablazing

Stolas has a bit of a short fuse and likes to fire two of his thompsons

I kinda wanna see these two on a shooting range now

Romeo

With Romeo's obsession with meeting deadline money goals, Bimet is the absolute perfect equivalent

We even had an event where some of his money went missing and he threw such a bad temper tantrum

Ritsu

This one is kinda hard...

I don't think there is a demon that would be similar to Ritsu..

Oh, but we do have Bael who is constantly doing paperwork instead of Beelzebub, who's always gone

And Bael is constantly sending all the other nobles out to chase him down

Just like Ritsu constantly bothers Taiga and Romeo with his lawyer roleplay

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Subaru

Subaru as the pretty boy he is gets another pretty boy, Foras

According his idiosyncrasy, Foras is the prettiest demon in Hell so much so even his king, Leviathan, gets jealous

Haku

Personality vise I don't think we have a demon to match Haku, but the spiritual vibe he has reminds me of Buer

Buer gives me the vibe of some temple priest/spiritual healer

Zenji

Zenji is another one who's kinda hard to find a demon for

There isn't really an artist/writer type of demon

So maybe... Astaroth?

Astaroth finds pleasure in corrupting people with his words, just like Zejni wants to spread his poems and songs

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Edward

Old man

Just like Lucifer

I can imagine them sitting in Lucifer's greenhouse and relaxing together

Rui

Another one I wanna say Astaroth about?

Rui is a flirt, just like Astaroth

Plus the whole bar thing matches the corruption thing really well

I once even wrote Astaroth as someone you don't want to watch over the alcohol on a party

Lyca

This one is kinda obvious: Naberius

Since he can turn into Cerberus while angry and they're both precious

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Yuri

Yuri gives strong Agares vibes withe way he thinks everything revolves around him

They're both full of themselves and have a faithful sidekick

Jiro

Gentle giant ♥

Okay, Marbas isn't as gentle (if even), but they're both precious big medic boys

I can even imagine Marbas waving a chainsaw around

If he wan't for the safety of everyone tied up

[thatwriterchaotic]

Here it is. My first ever smut with none other than Daryl Dixon. For celebrating 100 followers, this is a gift from me to you. I hope you enjoy it. It is so damn long.

What Are We?...

Summary: Daryl had always been slow and careful with your relationship. Always wanting to treat you right. Make you the happiest person on the planet. But he also kept thinking about you in other ways. Maybe it was time to be a little bit more intimate with you.

Pairing: Pre apocalypse!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: [18+], first time together, soft!daryl, man handling, fingering, oral, some hair pulling just very smutty jesus- be nice it's my first time writing like this 😂 this is honestly the longest thing I have written.

The first time Daryl laid his eyes on you was when you brought your car in. You needed your breaks checked and something was wrong with the engine. Daryl only had this mechanic job was because of Merle. Even though it wasn't Daryl's favorite thing to do. He had to make money some how. Damn idiot got himself back into jail again for another bar fight.

Daryl was distracted by you the whole time as he fixed your car. Just something about you had him mesmerized. The next time he saw you was at his friend Maggie's house party. Daryl only agreed to go because Glenn wouldn't stop bothering him. Not wanting to be the only guy at that party. Which wasn't true at all. He had gotten your name and number at that party.

You two had gone on several dates after that. Enjoying spending time with the other. Daryl would tell you about his days and the cars he fixed. You tried to following along as best you could with what little knowledge you had. Happy to see him open up and talk about the things he liked. You would respond back and talk about the things you liked, bonding over your similarities.

You both mostly kept to yourself. Not wanting to go out and do extravagant things. You both where the happiest staying inside. Watching movies together, cuddled up on Daryl's couch. His arms wrapped around your body. You always felt so safe with him around. Laying on top of him. Your head laying on his chest. Feeling his hand move up to play with your hair.

If you could stay like this all the time you would. But you both also enjoyed going out on rides on Daryl's motorcycle. Daryl loved the feeling of you sitting behind him. Arms wrapped around his torso like he was your life line. Nothing could separate the two of you. Always wanting to be together.

But Daryl secretly wanted to go further with you. Craving the feeling of your touch. The feeling of your skin against his. But he didn't want to cross a line if you weren't ready for it. Daryl was always very respectful towards you. Unlike his brother. He adored and loved everything about you. But what he didn't know was that you craved him too. Always catching him staring at you in that almost mischievous way. His bottom lip in between his teeth. That hungry stare in those dark blue eyes. Oh you thought it was the sexiest thing ever. Especially when he had his sleeves rolled up, showing off his forearms. A few buttons undone at the top of his button up, showing just a little bit of chest hair.

Feeling Daryl move under you made you jump out of your thoughts. Glancing up at him, smiling softly. “Need me to move?” You asked wanting Daryl to be as comfortable as possible. Daryl shoke his head. “Nah, yer alright sweetheart. Just stay like that, all pretty for me” Daryl said sweetly to you brushing your hair out of your face. You felt yourself flush. Your man was such a flirt. Making yourself feel weak in the knees almost everyday. You smiled softly and leaned up to peck his lips

Feeling him kiss you back, with his soft lips. You loved the feeling of being so close to him. He radiated warmth and comfort. But it was only when you where alone together. Out in public, you mostly just held hands and light kisses. You understood that Daryl was more shy about it. And that's okay, whatever made your man comfortable and happy. You would wait for him no matter how long it took.

That's when you felt his hands go a little lower. The kiss turning more intimate. His tongue slipping into your mouth. Your hands starting to wonder as well. Moving from his stomach and up towards his chest. And finally towards those brawd shoulders, you loved so much. Gripping onto his shirt. Wanting to be even closer to him. Daryl eventually sat up again, you sitting down in his lap. Legs wrapped around his waist. Holding you so close, your chests touching each other.

Having to break for air, you slowly pulled away from Daryl's intense kissing. Stopping him before he leaned in for more. Having this adorable pout on his lips. “Did I do something wrong?” Daryl asked you with a concerned look in his eyes. You smiled and cupped his cheek. “No no you didn't do anything wrong, just- What are we Daryl?” You asked him looking into his eyes. Hoping you didn't scare him off for asking. “What ya mean? Yer my woman” Daryl said softly to you taking your hand and placed soft kisses on your palm.

You thought it was sweet, hearing him call you his. But you pulled your hand away. “Seriously Daryl, what are we? Am I really your woman if you can't even kiss me infront of our friends?” You said pushing this a little further. Wanting an answer from him. Daryl sighed softly and took your hands in his. “Alright, alright” He started looking into your eyes. A serious look on his face.

“I get nervous when we are out in public. You know how much I respect ya. Always wanting to make sure yer happy. I never want to over step or rush us into anything. I want us both to feel comfortable. Look I promise I'll start be more affectionate towards ya. Since I haven't been able to get you outta my head” Daryl said to you. Noticing his lip going in between his teeth. Gently biting down on his bottom lip. Oh, he was thinking of you. In all kinds of ways.

Feeling a bit flustered from Daryl's confession, you took your hand and caressed his jaw. Going down his neck and to the front of his chest. Fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. Popping open the first two buttons. “You've been thinking about me?” You asked so innocently looking up at your man.

Daryl nodded and leaned closer towards you. Your noses almost touching.

“I think about you every night. The feeling of your skin against mine-” Daryl moved his hands to your waist, sliding you over to one of his legs. “How soft it feels against my calloused fingers, the sweet noises I could pull from you just from my touch” He guided you to start slowly grinding down on his thigh. Your hips going back and forth in a slow rhythm, making the most amazing friction between your legs.

You grabbed onto his shoulders for stability as you rocked on his thigh. God hearing him talk like that and the way your jeans rubbed up against your clit. It felt like heaven. You whimpered softly and never looked away from Daryl. Stuck in a trance from how good he was making you feel. “Ya like that sweetheart? Huh? Ya like how it feels to grind on my thigh” Daryl said to you pulling you in even closer. His hands never left your hips. Encouraging you to move them faster.

“F-Fuck Daryl, feels so good” You managed to whimper out. Speeding up the pace of your hips slightly. Daryl smirked and kissed your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and to your chest. You whined and wrapped your arms around his neck. Loving all the attention he was giving to you. He moved one of his hands from your hip and to the front of your jeans. “I'm gonna touch ya now, is that alright?” Daryl asked you first before popping open the button on your jeans. You quickly nodded your head yes. You felt his hand slowly slide down into your jeans and under your underwear.

You gasped when he gently touched your clit with his fingers. Circling it in just the perfect way. You kept rocking your hips against his thigh. Loving the combination between the two. You moaned and reached up, your fingers going through Daryl's short brown hair. Pushing him further into your neck. Daryl left several marks on your neck, claim you as his and no one else's. “Yer doing so well for me sweetheart, prettiest thing I've ever seen” He grunted as he decided to push you back against the couch. You whined when he took his hand away from you. “Don't whine now babygirl, I'll take care of you. Just gotta get undressed first” Daryl said softly to you.

Between harsh kisses, Daryl managed to get your pants off. Along with his shirt that you demanded he take off. Wanting to see more of his chest. That left you in your shirt and panties. It was a normal pair, just a lacey black thong. But Daryl loved it. He thought you looked sexy as hell. He got on top of you. Reconnecting your lips again with another passionate kiss.

You cupped his face and kissed him back. His tongue shoving into your mouth. But eventually he made his way down your body. Leaving trails of kisses down your stomach, to your thigh. Getting right in between your legs. Daryl propped your legs on his shoulders as he kissed your thighs. Leaving soft bite marks and hickeys that would definitely stay until morning. Until he got right where he wanted to be.”Tell me what you want me to do sweetheart, want me to eat this pussy huh? So wet for me aren't you” Daryl said looking up at you. His pupils where blown wide with lust.

You blushed and looked down at Daryl, loving the way he looked between your legs. “Please Daryl.. Please I want you so badly” you begged for him. Daryl slid your thong to the side and swiped his tongue from your slit up to your clit. Making a electrifying feeling shoot up your spine. You moaned and arched your back, Daryl's hold on your hips not letting you go anywhere. Your hands instantly going to his hair gently pulling his hair making him grunt into your pussy.

God he was really good at this. You couldn't stop moaning his name over and over again. He slurped at your clit flicking his tongue back and forth. That's when Daryl moved his hand down and slowly slipped his finger into you. Curling it just right. “Such a needy little thing for me, making such a mess” Daryl grunted as he kept going, loving the noises you made. Soon he slipped in another finger into you. Moving them at the same pace as his tongue. You felt a tight sensation start to build in your stomach. You tried to warn Daryl but it felt too good. Not wanting him to stop pleasuring you. You felt the snap in your abdomen, feeling yourself come undone. You moaned Daryl's name loudly tugging at his hair. Daryl continued, helping you ride out your high.

Panting heavily you laid back down on the couch. Trying to catch your breath from that intense orgasm. Daryl had a huge grin on his face. He gently laid your legs down and sat up. Licking his lips, he slipped his two fingers into his mouth sucking them clean. “You taste so sweet sweetheart, gonna make me want to stay in between your legs forever” Daryl said as he looked at you. Your hair was a mess and you had a coat of sweat cling to your body. Daryl gently rubbed your leg and fixed your panties.

“Just relax for me baby, we can go get cleaned up in a bit okay” Daryl said softly. Always wanting to take care of you. You noticed his jeans look rather tight. Wanting to help him feel good too. “But what about you love? Let me take care of you” You said almost begging him. He shook his head and smirked. “We can have round two in the shower just rest” He said as he laid down on top of you wrapping his arms around your waist. You gently ran your hands through his hair. God you where so lucky to have this man in your life.

[the-fiction-witch]

Pouty

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty AF + Mild Smut

Warnings Gambling / alcohol

I sat on the well-stuffed armchair that I had moved over, replacing the cheap wooden chair of the card table with my usual parlour armchair, my bare feet on the soft rug, the fire crackling and popping to my side as it worked away at the wood and coal I threw on a few moments ago. My cards on the well-polished wood of the card table, the edges slightly buffed and worn down from people's arms, my cards face down showing only the patterned back, coins in the centre of the table stacked up nicely, his cards on the other side. He sat in his armchair, well it wasn't his but it may well have been, leant back with his usual fluffy hair, his white loose sleeve shirt, his blue waistcoat, his green tie undone allowed to hang low and his brown trousers,  his chocolate eyes leaving me with no place to hide, his smirk upturned on his lips. 

I sat similarly in my chair with my arms over my chest doing my best to look at anything but him, flicking my eyes around the room that was meant to be our parlour but my father merely used it as a card room, with tables, chairs, a bar to the side and as many games as could be imagined. We were... A little, not tipsy, nowhere near Pidgeon step, but... Giggly, and giddy. Which didn't help matters. 

He never moved his gaze though giving me very little choice in my proceedings. 

"I don't know why I play with you." I snapped pushing my cards into the centre folding, 

His smirk only grew as he moved the centre pile to his little pile proud of himself for his winnings, taking my cards and having a look before rolling his eyes "You had me going for a while at the start there," He smirked adding them along with his own back to the deck and beginning to shuffle them, "Again?"

"Alright," I sighed, as much as I didn't want to keep losing I didn't want him to go just yet, "I just need to be a bit careful..."

"Careful?"

"Umm... Last week someone took home my whole allowance!"

"Shouldn't bet it, if you not prepared to lose it." 

"And you live by that philosophy do you?" 

"I do indeed."

"No, you do not! I've known you to be in the whole for more than you make in a year?" I laughed "As I recall he was going to chop your hand off."

He smirked and very fragrantly moved his hands as he spoke making sure to draw attention to them "And do I have both still?"

"Yes, because you're a crafty little..."

"Ohh go on?" He chuckled leaning on his hand "I shall like to hear this,"

"You're a crafty little... fool."

"You're adorable" he smiled blowing me a kiss across the table as he dealt the cards I glanced at mine and had nothing but I wanted to keep him going a while, I did my best not to react watching him as he checked his own but god damn it he's good! not letting a single reaction make it's way though. He moved a coin to the centre so I did so too, back and forth this went on as the pile grew both of us constantly trying to read one another, I knew I didn't have much money left and I was no closer to knowing what he had so I folded before I lost everything and he smirked taking his winnings with a wide smile,

"Jack Dawkins, must you be such a .... Person." I sighed in frustration, 

"A person?" He smirked shuffling the cards again, 

"A... Person." I snapped,

"Aww, go on. you can do it. What am I?"

I know what I wanted to say but the words stuck behind my teeth

"Go on, I won't tell," He smirked winking at me as he delt the cards again 

"Dick." I sighed glancing at my cards and for once I had something good! really good! but I kept my face still, 

He laughed at me, "You are adorable. Come on you can do better than that" Not even checking his cards,

I huffed.

"Come on, I won't tell, I think it's cute when you swear. such a cute Wittle Wady saying the words her daddy won't Wet her." he playfully joked as he moved a coin to the centre "I'll even get you started. Cunt."

"Jack!"

"What?"

"You- You can't just-" I began,

"Cunt. See nothing happens. Cunt. god doesn't come and strike you down for swearing Y/n. He did... I would be in the pits of hell five times over by now."

"Dick." I sighed adding a coin 

"Yes, we've heard that one come on you can do better."

"I- I can't," 

"Your father's not here It's safe. I promise I won't say a word" he smiled adding a few more coins 

"Little fucker."

"Ahhh! there we go, Pouty little princess."

"I'm not pouting"

"Yes you are, you're mad at me. Awww pouty wittle princess mad I took her allowance?"

"I. am. not. Pouty."

"You're a ... " I began but I couldn't say it, he just glanced up at me expectantly "Bastard."

"Ooohhh sharp tonight Y/n" He smirked "Come on," he smirked as we had reached the point where I had no more money to bet from my weekly allowance but these cards were so good there was no way I could lose! So I slipped off my bracelet adding it to the pile "Very nice," He smirked adding more coins "Go on, how you gonna get out of this one?"

"Arsehole," I sighed pulling off my ring and adding it to the pile, 

"Confident little pouty princess tonight," he smirked simply adding more money, 

"Shit." I sighed as I had nothing else to bet with, "You open to an IOU?"

"Depends what it is," He shrugs slyly, 

"Half next week's allowance when I get it."

he smirked, "Why? I'll end up winning it when I come over anyway," 

"Please?"

"Alright" He smirked grabbing some paper from the bar and writing out and IOU "Go on," he smirked sliding it over so I signed it and added it to the pile, he smirked and simply added more coins "Ooohh now what are you going to do?"

"... Another IOU?" 

"For?"

"More of my allowance next week?"

"No."

"What?"

"If I take all of next week's allowance you have nothing to play with then. I'm just robbing myself of the future enjoyment of taking it." 

"Ughhh... what do you want then?"

"Anything I want?"

"Yes,"

"Anything?"

"Within reason."

"So all anything is on the table as it were?" he smirked leaning his elbows on the table, connecting his hands and resting his chin there, 

"within reason, you slimy little fish boy."

"Fish boy? Are you actually out of swears you know?" 

"Shithead."

He smirked still with the paper from the bar in handwriting on it in a way I couldn't see and slid it over licking his lip as he did, I took it a little confused and read it 

'IOU, One on the Lips Kiss. Signed _________'

"You're kidding?"

"I am not."

"Why?"

He shrugged "The sick twisted joy of forcing the pouty little princess to pucker up?"

"You're a dickhole."

"Oohh getting more inventive now. Take it or leave it." 

"How much do you value that?"

"Let's say to the value of four pounds?"

"Four pounds!"

"That's what the girls down the cat and bagpipes charge."

"Well, I ain't a girl down the cat and bagpipes jack, Twelve."

"Six."

"Ten."

"Nine."

"Fine." I sighed signing it and adding it to the pile, He nodded and simply added more money 

"Well, now what am I meant to do?" I glared 

He smirked glancing at the paper he still had on the table and I rolled my eyes, "Fine."

"Don't bet what you can't lose. You can fold at any time little lady." he chuckled writing on the paper and sliding it over to me waiting with an evil smirk, I flipped it and looked immediately turning red at the idea

'IOU, One lap sit lasting at least one minute. Signed _________'

"You want me to do what now!"

"Sit on my lap," he smirked leaning back in his chair slightly and opening his legs almost invitingly 

"One minute?"

"At least."

"Fine." I snapped signing and adding it to the now formidable pile 

"You must be very confident,"

"So must you" I smirked "...If I win? will you give me a kiss?"

"The IOU had no name so... Yes I suppose if you won they go to you."

"So you'd have to kiss me, Jack?" I giggled leaning on the table a little "And come sit on my lap?"

"I would, little concerned if I'll fit but yes if you win then I'll do it." He smirked "So... do you fold or are we going to keep adding here?" 

"Adding. Go on. You can choose."

"Ohh how kind of you princess" he smirked clearly getting a wicked idea writing on the paper and sliding it over so I took it 

'IOU, One Touch of an intimate area of the winner's choice. Signed _________'

"An Intimate area?"

"Yes,"

"Which would be wear?"

"Your tits. or your arse. Or your pussy if I was feeling like it." He smirked 

"And If I win?"

"My arse, or my cock."

"That still sounds like it would benefit you more than me." 

"Then I can't lose can I?" 

"How much?"

"fifteen pounds."

"Fine" I smirked signing it and adding it to the pile 

"Interesting you value a kiss at nine pounds but me fondling your tit is fifteen... I could in theory fondle your arse for less than the price of two kisses"

"Your turn" I smirked ignoring his comment and noticing he now had very little left to bet with so he slid the last of his money in "Not enough."

"Ohh come on-"

"Nope. you want to keep the stakes this high then meet them."

He rolled his eyes and slid over the pad and pen "Go on then."

I took the pen thinking for a moment this was all getting a bit intense but if I won! I got everything! and he was betting with my last three weeks' worth of allowance I had lost to him, as well as his recent winnings from evenings at the Cat and Bagpipes and wherever else he scampers off too to play cards that aren't just here with me when my father's out.  And I had to admit... the idea of winning and turning his perverted little request of me sitting on his lap and him touching my intimate places into something humiliating for him to have to sit on my lap while I slap his arse was too good to resist. But what to make him do, trying to think of what would humiliate him the most...

'IOU, One spanking session. Signed _________'

And I slid it over with a smile

"Uhh? So I'd get to spank you? That definitely sounds like it's more for my benefit."

"Does it?"

"yeah. That's hot as fuck!"

"No, winner takes."

"So, when I win I get to give you a spanking my pouty little princess?"

"If you win. yes. and when I win, I get to bend you over and give you a spanking"

"You'd really spank me?"

"I would."

"You can't even say cunt in your own house when your father isn't here you're going to bend me over and spank me are you?"

"I am."

"Alright" he smirked signing it and adding it to the pile quickly taking the pad back writing quickly and sliding it over 

'IOU, One tickle session. Signed _________'

"A what?" 

"I get to lie you down, tie you up. and tickle you to my heart's content."

"With my clothes on?"

"...some of them"

"To what end?"

"My amusement." 

"and when I win? I get to tie you up and tickle you?"

"If you win, yes."

"Alright" I smirked signing it and taking back the pad trying to think of something, and an evil thought came into my mind

'IOU, One orgasm. Signed _________'

and I folded the paper stroking down the fold line before kissing the fold and sliding it over to him, He watched me rather excitedly taking it kissing the fold line himself before opening it 

"Oh." He stopped short "Really?"

"Really."

"My pouty little princess wants me to make her cum?"

"When I win."

"And if I win?"

"You get one I guess, if that happens."

"You'll make me cum?"

"I will."

"How?"

"hands."

"Ohh no no."

"You're the one short on money. I get to decide."

"Fine. Hands" He smirked quickly signing away and adding it to the pile "Ohh look at that now you need to bet, so you fold or you bet?"

"Bet."

"Good girl," he smirked taking the paper and pen back and I didn't even need to check it really I knew what he was going to write and as soon as it slid back to me 

'IOU, One orgasm By mouth. Signed _________'

"So... when I win you owe me two?"

"One by hand, one by mouth to cash when requested." 

I smirked and signed adding it to the pile 

"Your turn, I'm not folding princess."

"Alright," I smirked taking the paper and pen, trying to think of something and then it hit me! god damn it why didn't I think of this earlier 

'IOU, full nude pose. Signed _________'

and I slid it back

"Pose?"

"Yep."

"why a pose specicily?"

"I can draw you."

"Draw me? why a cute little picture to keep under your pillow?"

"To display in town and humiliate you." 

"And when I win?"

"You can see me naked, I'm sure that'd amuse you."

"I'm a doctor. I see naked ladies a lot. Like... so much it's kinda boring now" 

"Boring?"

"It's just boobs. and a pussy. Yes, both of those can be spectacular but.. they are just boobs." He shrugs "Can I draw you?"

"Can you draw?"

"... I would try. and then I can put you up in my room above my bed" he winked 

"Fine."

"Deal" he smirked happily signing "My turn!" He smirked grabbing the pad back and quickly writing his own sliding the paper over 

'IOU, One Full Penotrational Sex Session. Signed _________'

immediately I turned red and he just smirked,

"No!"

"What?"

"No! No way!"

"Why not?"

"We are not betting with my Innocence Jack."

"Everything is on the table, you said so."

"No!"

"You agree to the IOU, Or you you fold." He smirked, 

"Fine." I sighed signing and smirking "I'll see you."

He smirked and revealed his cards, 

"...... you cunt." I sighed revealing my cards and he had beaten me!

He chuckled and pulled his pile of winnings to himself gathering all the IOU's and flicking them and then using them as a fan for himself "Well... isn't this just a lovely turn of events" He smirked taking one out and sliding it over to me "I'd like to cash this  one, Now."

I looked and it was the 

'IOU, One lap sit lasting at least one minute. Signed _________'

I sighed ripping it and throwing it on the fire before I got up and moved to sit on his leg, immediately he wrapped his arms around me pulling me to his chest

"Aww pouty little princess."

"I hate you."

"I know."

"You are an evil... conniving little man."

"I know" he shrugs "Now... what are we to do with the rest of our evening?" he smirked "Ohh. I have some ideas" he smirked waving his IOU's around suggestively "I have some rewards to cash" He smirked shoving the papers into the cleavage of my dress, grabbing my thighs as he stood forcing me to wrap them around him, so I quickly wrapped my arms around him so I wouldn't fall 

"JACK!" I squealed 

"Off we go then, princess. Don't worry you won't be pouty much longer" he smirked carrying me up to my bedroom...