#I’m gonna scrub a layer of skin off

[writingsbychlo]

HIDE AND SEEK | mattheo riddle

summary; you and mattheo play a little game on hallowe’en.

word count; 9058

notes; don’t forget to check out the sister fic to this one by @azrielscrown, we did a lil joint thing, and you can see me making some cameos if you wanna hang out 😉 we’ve been keeping this lil secret for WEEKS and I’m so happy we can finally share it with you all <3

“Sit still, will you?” Your giggle echoed off of the stone walls in Mattheo’s bathroom. He scoffed, shuffling between his feet once again. 

“S’not my fault it tickles! I don’t know how you girls do this every day, don’t the brushes make you want to sneeze?” His nose scrunched up as he spoke, but he let you continue to set the wet paint around his face with powder. His eyes focused on you, you could feel the stare as you observed the photograph he was holding up, a cut-out piece of a magazine. “You’re pretty when you’re focused.”

“And you’re distracting me,” You switched brushes, slapping at his hand as his fingers began to tease at your thigh. Returning it to its place on the counter beside your thigh, he shuffled between your legs impatiently once again, and pouted. “I can’t do your makeup like that. Smooth your face out.”

“Kiss.”

“Mattheo—”

“Kiss!” He repeated, and the smile you wore was against your control as you leaned in, pecking his lips softly, doing your best not to smudge the makeup you’d already applied around the centre of his face. It was too short and chaste for his liking, that much was clear when you pulled away as he licked at your lower lip, a whine coming from him as he chased you forward, only to be foiled by a chuckle, and a hand on his chest.

“I’m not redoing this for you if you make a mess of it! I don’t have time, I still have to get ready myself. Party starts in less than an hour, you know.”

“I know.” Mattheo grouched, smoothing his features out as you ran a thumb over his lips, refocusing on painting the skeletal features onto his face. “Y’know, you still haven’t told me what your costume is going to be.”

“You’d know if you’d gone for a couples costume with me. Stop moving your mouth.”

“That’s not fair!” He cringed and the brush slipped right into his mouth, leaving a streak of wet paint across his tongue, and you raised your brows. “I had to go with the boys, I couldn't be the only one who didn’t join in!”

“I’m messing with you, honey. Now, stop talking.” He merely grumbled behind closed lips, but his eyes were sparkling. He remained still and quiet, letting you paint the final pieces of his makeup around his mouth, stretching the creepy, toothy grin across his cheeks. Plucking the picture from his fingers and holding it up, you glanced a few times between it and your boyfriend, shrugging with a sigh. “That’s as good as it’s gonna’ get.”

Standing straight and moving to the mirror, his jaw dropped a little, hand rising but fingers never quite touching his face, tipping his head side to side to observe it. “Damn, baby, this is better than just ‘good’, it’s great!”

“Yeah? Good enough for your little boy’s night scare fest?”

“Don’t call it that, but yes.” Reaching for his hand, you tugged him back toward you, standing him before you and shaking the bottle in your hand. “What’s that?”

“Special setting spray. Close your eyes.” He did as told, eyes closing as you unpopped the lid. “I warn you, it may take some serious scrubbing after this to get the paint off, might leave some stains.”

“Wait, what—” You sprayed it across his face, and a choked sound between a gag and a cough left him as you covered his skin in a thick layer of the spray. Flapping your hand over his face to help his glistening skin dry, his frown deepened, hands reaching for you blindly, and gripping your hips. “I feel like my eyelids just got glued shut.”

“You’re so dramatic.” He cracked his eyes back open, several blinks and a few funny faces to adjust the stiffness, before he was tapping lightly at his skin, fingers pulling away clean. “You should still be careful with it, but it should hold. Just don’t… rub your face, or get any drinks thrown at it by scared party-goers.”

“Always ruining my fun.” Mattheo’s wistful sigh had you laughing once again, slipping down from the counter and slipping your hands under the edge of his baggy shirt. Lifting it up carefully and guarding his face, he raised his arms up, helping to slip off the shirt without disturbing the makeup on his face, leaving it heaped next to the paints and brushes on the counter. “Always helping me out.”

“Yes, well, someone’s got to keep your hopeless arse out of bother.” You leaned in, placing a kiss on his chest. “What does the rest of this group costume consist of?”

“Suits. Not sure whose choice that was, probably Dray’s one condition on joining in.” Pretty brown eyes rolled at his friend, even if his lips were raised in a wide smile. “I’ll get ready, and then we can go to your dorm and get you all ready before meeting the rest?”

“I’ll go start getting ready now, while you do. Save some time.” He only hummed, your heart skipping a single beat as the first deception of the night passed seamlessly through your lips. 

“Alright, I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”

You only nodded, pecking his lips delicately one more time, before slipping from his arms, out of his dorm and into the corridors. Your feet were moving fast, like a sprint through the halls towards your own dorm. Fifteen minutes was barely enough time to grab the things you need and escape from the Slytherin dorms without your boyfriend seeing you. You dragged out the bag you’d already packed from under your bed, and the pre-written note you’d hidden in your bedside drawer. 

His name was written neatly across the front, and you flipped it open, double-checking the message inside. In perfect, neat cursive;

‘Find me before midnight xo’

Folding it back up and propping it on the bed where you knew he’d see it, you eyed it for a second. Putting down your bag and rooting through, you gave your lips a half-hearted swipe of red lipstick, blotting them for a second before pressing a kiss to the note over his name, a single clue to start the game, before returning it to its spot. 

With that, you were off, leaving your dorm unlocked and enchanted, for his entry and his entry alone.

The common room was packed with groups gathered, ready to leave for the Weasley twins’ party, making it easy for you to blend in and disappear. The halls were just as busy, decorated and overflowing with chatter, the castle ghosts crowding and gathering happily to add to the atmosphere. 

Everyone else seemed to be heading down and out, leaving you as one of the few people heading up, to the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor. It was empty as you arrived, the sound of your bag hitting the floor creating an echo to bounce off of the walls. 

Tugging on your costume only took minutes, stashing your clothes back in the bag and leaving it open as you fished through for your makeup kit. It was as you were leaning across the sink, one eye closed as you swept eyeliner into a sharp point in one corner that the door crashed open once again. Jess stumbled through it, arms full of whatever costume the Weasley boys had forced upon her, and you stood straight up, trying not to blink and smear the wet liner before it dried. 

“Pushing it late, huh? Party starts in fifteen minutes!”

“Don't remind me…” Jess shucked off her robes, dumping the cloak on top of your empty bag, and beginning to undo the buttons of her shirt as you turned back to the mirror once again. 

When you were satisfied with your makeup, two sharp wings on either side and red lips to match your dress, you gave a happy nod to your reflection. With a few minutes to spare and a bottle of nail polish waiting to be used, you hopped up onto the sink. Costume now donned, Jess was lacing up heeled boots that reached all the way to her thighs. 

“Are you trying to scare the masses, or seduce them?” With only a sly smirk of her own in return, Jess made her way to the mirror beside yours, plucking the red lipstick from your makeup bag. 

“I’m supposed to be a bloodthirsty sorceress,” Popping the cap, she applied a coat. “Know any men who wouldn't mind having their hearts ripped out?”

“A few. The boys will be in skull makeup tonight, so aim for them first.” Your legs swung as you chuckled at her statement, focused on the brush moving across your nails. You wondered just how many of the boys were ready, and what Mattheo was doing right now. Surely, he’d already be on the hunt. “Save the curly one for me, though.”

Jess only beamed in response. “You’ve sent Riddle out on that wild goose chase yours, then?” 

You shrugged, ever the picture of easiness as you blew on your wet nails to dry them. “He’s got until midnight to find me.”

Excited knots twisted at your stomach with the mere thought, the thrill of the cat-and-mouse chase. It would likely drive Mattheo insane, knowing you were toying with him as he searched. “What happens when the clock strikes twelve?” 

“Let's just say, that I’m fully prepared to live up to my house name, and let him slither in.”

Zipping your makeup bag up with the nail polish inside, you packed all of the clothes into your bag, stashing it behind one of the sinks. “At least one of us is having fun tonight.”

Oh, that was no doubt. You weren’t sure ‘fun’ was even a fair word to use, knowing that the way you were riling your boyfriend up was more like a first-class ticket to seeing Heaven. “Who says you can’t? You may owe Fred a favour, but that doesn’t mean you can’t cause a little trouble.”

Jess shared a devious smile, sliding a gold mask into place as you slipped your own red one on to match, “I like the way you think.”

Placing the final part of your costume onto your head, the small horns on the headband complete your ‘devil’ look, and you hopped down to join her.

With your arm linked through your friend’s, the two of you set off. At the pathway marked as the beginning of the no-doubt terrifying journey ahead, Jess split off, a wink in your direction as you blew a kiss in hers, wishing her luck on the night of haunting ahead, mind set on your own task. 

Mattheo had told you where the boys all planned to meet, leaving you plenty of time to slip into the throng of people and disappear into the masses. Your plan: to remain hidden in plain sight.

Weaving through the crowds, eyes scanning over every person there, it wasn’t long until you spotted your boyfriend. Leaning against the trunk of a tree, flanked by only Enzo and Draco so far, he was already searching for you amongst the hordes. You followed closely behind a group, slipping into their ranks seamlessly, as Mattheo’s focus moved across you, flickering over the group and dismissing them quickly as strangers. A spark of excitement shot along your spine. 

Just like that, you were walking straight past him. Your cover merely being that of standing among people you didn’t even know meant letting him look right through you like fog in the early morning. 

Slipping inside one of the hidden walkways, darkness encased you, hiding you from view as all the horrors and thrills Fred and George had managed to create took place. 

Actors in costumes, enchantments to create realistic scenes, and laughter poured from your lips as much as screams did, your heart was pounding as you cleared the tunnel minutes later.

Surrounding the clearing on all sides were various attractions. How they’d managed to pull all this together, you had no idea, but the twins never failed to impress you. Several hexed bonfires filled the clearing, a hazy setting washing over your skin from that very first sniff of woody smoke pulled into your lungs. 

A haunted hayride, pulled along no doubt by the thestrals that Luna seemed so fond of took off on your right, a speakeasy-style building to the left, a haunted house with screams filling the chill night air right before you. Bobbing for apples, a spooky corn maze with moving scarecrows, everything that would send chills down your spine. 

Mattheo and the boys would likely catch up any moment, more visitors pouring in around where you’d paused at the end of the tunnel to admire, so you spurred yourself into action. The night couldn't end just yet, you still had hours of fun ahead of you. 

Angling yourself towards the speakeasy first, you stepped through the door, the subtle smell of gin and perfumed musk washing over your senses as you stepped up to the twisted staircase, flickering lights disappearing into darkness before your very eyes. 

Down, down, down, you moved. Swallowed whole by the shadows, your shaky laughter would doubtless have clouded your breath with the sudden chill that took you over, so dark for a moment you couldn't even see your hand before your face. Then, just as your hand skimmed towards your wand for a Lumos spell, a curtain swept aside, a couple stumbling out between fits of tipsy giggles, guiding you with flashes of coloured lights and the beat of unconfined music. 

The moment you were inside, all silencing spells wore off, blinding lights flashed across the dance floor, with the music that was pounding through the room so deep the base travelled up your legs. The floor was packed, everybody dancing to their heart’s content, and those who weren’t were gathered around small tables for card games, or crowding the bar. 

It wasn’t long until you located a group of your friends, some with their dates, some solo, and you were quickly immersed under the cover of the group. The beat had your eyes slipping closed, rhythm flowing through you as your body swayed. A drink was pressed into your hand by a friend, the fruity taste coating your tongue and leaving your body in a numb haze. 

You had to say, you were impressed by the effort the twins had gone to. Despite the student-body having only found out about this party a few weeks ago, you knew for them to have pulled this off, they’d have to have been planning since Valentine’s Day. Songs passed by in a blur of dancing and more drinks, a shot came soon, so spicy your eyes watered and throat stung, only soothed by the lime you were handed to follow. 

Wiping a stray droplet of juice from under your lip as you pulled the slice away, you almost missed the flash of skull makeup and blond hair in your peripheral. Draco was on the dance floor, making his way across, a smirk on his lips as a hand with manicured nails reached out to clasp his tie, trying to tug him into a dance. 

You didn’t have to search for long to find the face you knew so well, the one you’d painted yourself only a couple of hours prior, also on the dance floor. Hands reached for him too, trying to pull him this way and that, but he wasn’t stopped. No, he was searching. Looking at every face with your hair colour, checking under masks and turning dancers around despite their protests, just to rule them out from the game. 

And he was heading right for you. 

Spinning away from him, you ducked across towards a friend, her arms looping around your body as you neared, none the wiser to the game you were playing, and the distraction she provided. Swaying your body with her own, you pushed your lips close to her ear, watching Mattheo over her shoulder. “I need another drink, you want one?”

She only shook her head, released you near the back of the group and let herself get swept back up, as you were hidden away behind the crowd, sneaking towards the bar. 

Padma and her sister were serving quickly, wands in hand as they floated several cups through the air all at once. Slices of fruit and cubes of ice drop, tinkling into plastic cups ready for them to fill.

Flagging down one of the twins, a shaky breath of pure excitement leaves you, as you turn your focus back to your boyfriend. He looks like he’d been having fun. A little dishevelled, the top buttons of his shirt undone and his tie loosened, smudges of dirt and glitter on his clothes from wherever he and his boys had been playing, scaring unsuspecting patrons and gathering screams. 

His hair was no longer the neat style he’d doubtless have gelled it into, the stands messy from running his fingers through it, and curls beginning to form in the heat of the bar. A single curl fell across his forehead, brushing through the paint, and your fingers itched to brush it out of his eyes, like always. 

He’d reached the group now, searching idly in the area you’d been occupying, not finding you where you’d once been, chasing only steps behind and having no idea. 

The visible frustration he wore gave you a cocky smile, a rush of pride filing you up, watching as he made to move on, to more fruitless endeavours.

Then, a hand shot out. 

A hand in a black lace glove, attached to a girl in a full-body leather jumpsuit, hugging every inch of her body, the little cat ears you knew well. A member of your former dance group, poking up into the air. Pulling him to a stop, he bowed his head, lips moving and a conversation you couldn't hear taking place, and his head snapped up in your direction. 

For a second, your breath caught, swearing he almost looked right at you as he scanned his gaze over the bar. Someone had told him you’d been there, that you’d headed for the bar, and he filled with renewed vigour, eyes twinkling with mischief even from this distance. 

Motioning to Draco— who now had the rest of the owner of that manicured hand wrapped around him— to head to the bar, he moved like a man whom wild horses wouldn't be able to stop. The crowd parted around him as he moved, leaving nobody in his wake, not until he was right up to the bar at the other end. He motioned for one of the twins to take his order. 

Padma finally arrives to take your drink request, your order only adding to the floating display over their heads, and the display is utterly mesmerising. Much like the floating candles in the Grand Hall, light shimmers and reflects through every drink and piece of glass, light bursting out across the room. 

Following one trail of light, you spot Jess entering the bar, followed quickly in tow by someone in matching skull makeup, this one with shaggy blonde hair, his eyes locked on her like she’s the only girl in the room. You quirk a brow, sealing that little piece of information away for later.

You’re so caught up with your people-watching that you almost forget the game afoot, that Mattheo is so close, until the rough grate of his voice only a few seats down breaks you from your reverie. Snapping your eyes to him, he’s leaning on one arm, back to you as his focus scans out across the crowd. Somewhere on the dance floor is Enzo, you’re sure, and Draco has his lips on the neck of his mystery girl, completely ignoring Mattheo’s summons to the bar. You know where Theo’s interests lay, and you’re not sure where Pansy and Blaise will have snuck off too, likely some dark corner where they won’t be seen.

Your boyfriend was the only one in the group not dancing tonight, something that had you smirking. Swiping up your drink and bringing the straw to your lips, you admired his jawline as he stretched his head, once again searching. That was until a girl in a tight black dress and black feathered angel wings made her way over to him, clearing her throat lightly to bring back his attention as he continued the hunt. 

“Hi, Mattheo. Over here all alone, why aren’t you out there—”

“I have a girlfriend.” His curt response was flat and bored, and you almost snorted some of your drink trying not to laugh. Her expression wavered, a pout forming on her lips as she tried again, undeterred, reaching out to take the end of his tie between two fingers. 

“I don’t see her.”

Smoothing his hand down his front to remove his tie from her hold, he scoffed, shaking his head; “Neither do I, that’s the damn problem.”

This time, you were too slow in holding back your laughter, the sound bursting from you against your control. You hoped the music would cover it, but Mattheo heard it, whipping his head around in your direction, as he began to analyse every person at your end of the bar. 

Taking your drink and quickly ducking behind a man dressed as the Phantom at the Opera, you ducked and dove between people, daring a look back at the bar to see Mattheo stood where you had once been, looking amongst the people, but thankfully, not in your current direction. 

Glancing around for some quick cover, you spotted Jess, making your way over to her and watching as the boy she was with parted with a lingering kiss to her cheek. She clocked your approach, a wide smile bursting free on her lips, and her hands reached for you, tugging you into a dance with her as soon as you were near enough. 

“I take it Riddle hasn’t found you yet?”

“No, but he’s close.” You have to shout over the music, tipping your head in the direction you last saw him. She glances over your shoulder toward the bar, where her dance partner seems to have found himself too, along with the others.

“Gettin’ colder, he and Draco are heading toward the exit.” Spinning you around smoothly, a smirk pulled on your lips. A determined-looking Mattheo began to chase a cold lead, the unsuspecting girl who did look rather like you from behind leading him off-course. 

Twisting back to face her, your brow hitched up as the mystery man began to make his return, two new drinks in hand. “Is that Theodore Nott you’re flirting with?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” It was her turn to smirk, shrugging and brushing her hair from her shoulders. “He doesn't know it’s me, though, so if he asks you, you have no idea who I am tonight.”

“My lips are sealed.”

With a final wink, you slipped away, knowing she’d only be alone for a second before your boyfriend’s best friend was all over her once again. Following in the direction Mattheo had just left, you reentered the dark halls. The glow of his and Draco’s wands ahead, that and their murmured chatter bouncing from the walls, was your pin-point to follow through the new maze of tunnels. 

Too busy looking ahead, he had no idea you were right behind him. 

Hands reached out, faces flashing before your eyes as actors and other fear-mongers stalked the dark tunnels, and if it wasn’t for your boyfriend’s light ahead, you’d have screamed and given yourself away a long time ago. When you reached the central clearing once again, it was even busier than it had been before, you emerged not long after the boys, from a hidden alcove between the cornfield maze and a stand selling hot cider. 

Mattheo and Draco were gone, disappearing faster into the masses than you could comprehend, likely to find more of their little group, and you grabbed a cider, digging a galleon out of your pocket and tossing it into the collection jar, before taking a stroll around the maze. It was in there that you found Pansy and Blaise, hidden away in a darkened corner, just as you suspected. 

Both had swollen lips and glossy eyes when you cleared your throat at them, grinning at the blush spreading across your friend’s pale cheeks, as Blaise only smirked. 

“Ah, well, look who it is.” He mused, covering Pansy as she attempted to adjust her costume once again, and your laughter wasn’t lost on her, only getting flipped off as she tried to pull the corset top back up over her bra. “By your absence of lover boy, I take it Mattheo hasn’t found you yet?”

“So, he’s told you about the little game I’ve laid out, has he?”

“Oh, absolutely. We have a little bet going. By all means, keep this up, you have me winning. I bet he wouldn't find you at all.” Your head tipped to the side, a little sip of your hot cider as you considered his words, before Pansy was snatching it from your hand, sniffling it, and taking a gulp. 

“You bet against him?”

“Of course, look at you. Over halfway through the night and he still hasn’t found you. Pansy, on the other hand…” He teased, and she smacked at his arm. You gasped.

“Pans, you bet against me? And to think, I was sharing my drink with you.” Snatching it back, she pouted, but shrugged.

“Hey, nothing against you. He just had better odds, he’s recruited everyone to help him find you!”

“And a marvellous job you’re all doing of that. Tell me, did you find me hiding behind Blaise’s tonsils?” Her cheeks went red again, along with a burst of deep laughter from the other culprit that had him clutching his stomach. She shushed him quickly, despite the silencing spells cast over the maze for an added air of creepiness. 

“Well, here you are, are you not?”

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes fondly, stepping away from the pair. “I’ll let you get back to your intense searching. Don’t tell Matty you saw me!”

And with that, you slipped back into the darkness, the bushes around you rustling and creaking as they changed with every step you took. It wasn’t until you’d successfully given up, growing bored as the chill of mist rose goosebumps on your skin that the hexed forestry finally freed you, a pathway clearing and opening up ahead of you to release you back to the party. 

Seeking the moon in the sky, you found it not long until midnight, Blaise had told no lie, your game coming closer and closer to the end, where you would be crowned the winner. Taking a seat before the fireplace, you settle in to watch the flames, and peer around to spot your hunter. 

There. It only took a second to find him but there he was, a little clearing across the way, leaning against some haybales with a blunt balanced between two fingers. Bringing it back to his lips, he took a drag, smoke filtering out into the cold air and obscuring his face, before passing the roll to Draco. 

When the smoke cleared, his eyes locked on your own. 

Just a second. A moment across the field, so far away, but he knew. Your breath hitched, his back straightened. Then he was moving, without even warning the rest of the group, he was taking long strides across the field, closing the distance between you both, and adrenaline surged through your system as you shot to your feet. 

Your closest building was the haunted house, his eyes narrowing, a silent warning when a smile curved on your lips, already knowing your next move. 

You bolted, a giggle breaking free as the true chase began, and he called your name, the sound lost amongst the chatter and amusement of everyone else gathered around. Slipping through the hoards of people, you stumbled through the front door, watching as Mattheo rounded the porch, trying to snake his way through to catch up. 

A kaleidoscope of colours, screams and shouts and music, different rooms with every theme as you were ushered through in a rush, the whole attraction feeling like a fever dream as you searched for the exit. The game was reaching its peak, midnight neared, the moon called it into the sky, and being so close to the last moments, you were determined to win. 

Stumbling out into the cold night air once again, you headed for the tree-line, secluded enough that you could lean on the thick trunk of an old oak. You watched the entrance to the haunted house, a red-painted lip caught between your teeth, eager for him to emerge in your wake.

You waited. 

Waited.

Seconds ticking by, and the thunderous race of your heart in the moment finally began to slow. Gasping breaths became softer pants, calling to you the silence of the world around you when blood was no longer pumping in your ears. 

A twig snapped behind you, and before you could turn to acknowledge the sound, a hand was sealing over your mouth, an arm banded around your waist, dragging you back into the darkness. 

Spun around in their arms, your panic lasted barely a second, before soft lips were pressing firmly to your own, the familiar smell of cigarette smoke and woodsy cologne filling your senses. Your arms came up, gripping him just as tightly as he walked you backwards, pressing you to a tree as he left a dozen kisses on your lips, longing and loving after hours apart.

“You’re a little minx, do you know that?”

“Actually, I’m a little devil.” You snickered, hands on his chest to push him back enough to look down at your outfit, motioning to the horns still on your head. “See?”

“I see it, baby. I have to say, I love this costume.” His hand fell to your thigh, callouses scraping across soft skin until he found the short hem, tugging and twisting the flowing skirt around his fingers. “I’ve been searching every girl for red lipstick all night, thanks to your little clue. Should have known you’d be decked out in all red, too. Standing out, right there, the whole time.”

His mouth descended upon your own once again, a happy sound rumbling in the back of his throat as you kissed back just as eagerly, one hand sliding up into his hair. His hand squeezed at your thigh, slipping back down as far as your knee, only to hike your leg up around his hip, shocking you into a gasp.

“I’ve been running around all night trying to find you, and you were right under my nose the whole time, weren’t you?”

His kisses descended to your neck, a shaky sound slipping free as his teeth teased a spot on your jaw that made you tremble, gripping tighter to his suit for stability. Your breath was shaky as you spoke, desperate to reclaim some power, despite the way he was undoing you already, “What, you didn’t like my little game?”

“Oh, I loved your little game, baby. But, I think I just won. It’s a few minutes to midnight.” Licking a stripe across the underside of your jaw, you mewled, head tipping back against the tree, hips bucking up to meet his own, and he grunted. “What’s my prize?”

His gaze came back up, dark and challenging and sultry as he stared down at you, smirking. Licking across one red lip, his attention focused there, his own lips parting, getting closer, needy for another taste. “The second part of the costume, of course.”

Gripping his wrist and sliding it up and under your skirt, his fingertips smoothed over the lace of your panties. He didn’t hold back his groan, gripping your ass tightly in his hand and tugging you forward to rub against him once again. “Red, I assume?”

“Smart boy.”

“My dorm?” He whispered, forehead falling to your own, a needy sound your only form of reply as your hips rolled together, friction dragging and sparking heat across your body. 

“What, you want to leave the party already?”

Your teasing words weren’t appreciated if the squeeze to your rear was any indication. “Game is over, don’t play with me anymore, my love. I need you, now.”

“Then let's go.”

The two of you stumbled along, barely keeping your hand to yourself as you hurried back through the woods, avoiding the crowds and teasing whistles of your friends by taking a more covert route instead. You certainly weren’t the only ones with the same thoughts, various couples were dotted through the woods, wandering hands and desperate kisses exchanged behind the trees and throughout the branches. 

His hand was tight around yours, tugging you along with his pace, but when he stopped short, you almost crashed straight into his back. Following his line of sight, you huffed, pushing him with a hand on his back to get his feet moving again. 

“Is that Theo over there, zipping his pants back up? Who’s he out here with?”

“You want gossip, or you want sex, Matt?” His body jolted at the insinuation, feet stumbling over one another as he picked the pace again. Guiding the two of you through one of the tunnels he had likely discovered during his night of scaring, the two of you paced back through the speakeasy. 

Up the haunted stairs. 

Through the woods. 

Along the halls.

Past the common room.

And then, he was backing you up against his dorm door, fingers fumbling with the lock, pressing frenzied kisses to your lips as he slid the mask off of your face and threw it to the floor. 

"You taste like cinnamon and wine." Mattheo moaned, practically sucking the taste of mulled cider from your tongue as you ground against his clothes cock. 

"You taste like cigarettes and whiskey." Your words are bitten off as he nips on your lower lip, a whine spilling from you as his hand snakes back up your skirt, toying with the lace of your panties again. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he snapped them against your hip. The sting of the elastic on your flesh made you gasp, and he only chuckled into your mouth in response. 

“Godric knows, you’ve been driving me crazy tonight, baby, thinking about these red lips, lookin’ for them everywhere. Now I want to see what that red looks like around the base of my cock.”

Your fingers trailed across the front of his body, shaky fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, tugging it more and more until it hung open, only his tie in the way as you peppered his chest with open-mouthed kisses. A moan spilled from his throat, his head tipping back, and he yanked at the tie, throwing it to the floor, quickly joined by his shirt and blazer until his torso was bare and exposed to your ministrations. 

Your hands gripped his hips, spinning his body with your own until his back was to the wood instead. Mattheo only smirked, eyes half-lidded as he watched you, your red lipstick already smeared across his mouth, printed on his chest, his own makeup smudged to match. 

One heavy hand found your shoulder, pressing you down, until you were on your knees before him, tugging at his belt as he lifted his hips from the door. His arrogance only grew, lifting one hand to comb through your tangled hair as you struggled with his trousers, pulling at them until they were halfway down his thighs. His cock sprung free, a hiss on his lips as the cold air of the dorm met his flushed skin. 

Gathering your hair up and out of your face, he gripped it in a bunch behind your head, not pushing or pulling, just waiting as you peered up at him, licking over one kiss-bitten lip. His other hand fell to your cheek, smudging streaks of black and white facepaint as he went, tracing his thumb across your lower lip. 

“You’re so beautiful, my love,”

Your smile made his thumb fall to your chin, a single squeeze, before he was retracting his hand, and manoeuvring your head towards his cock. Slipping the tip past your lips, a shudder passed over his body, his thighs clenching under your hands as your nails dug into his flesh, and his head ‘thumped’ on the wood of the door as it fell back. 

“Salazar fuckin’ save me,” He panted, slipping further and further, his grip in your hair tightening with every inch, until he was tapping the back of your throat, your gag buzzing along his flesh in a way that made his hips buck. “Love your pretty little mouth. Make it so good for me, baby.”

Smiling as best you could with every inch of his cock slipping into your mouth, his hand tightening in your hair, pulling back just enough to let you take a breath before his hips were bucking again. This time, as he sank back into your mouth, your lips tightened around him, sucking suddenly, and his broken moan bounced off the walls of his dorm. 

Again, and again, he was pushing you further, until you were comfortably taking him deep into your throat, tears lining your eyes, threatening to spill over your cheeks in a way you knew he loved to see. “Fuck, you’re so good down for me,”

Tracing your tongue around the head of his cock, you took control, sinking down against him and dragging your tongue along his cock, feeling the throb of that prominent vein. You moaned against him, and his body tensed at the feeling, making you pull back, just enough to have him gasping as the pleasure was ripped away. 

You kissed at his hip, nipping his hip bones where they pressed to his skin, and a babbling mess of your name was all you got as he panted, flushed skin rising and falling. 

Your hand took over, pumping his spit-slick shaft slowly, dragging up until his hips were following your hand with a pathetic groan. He finally had enough, enough of your teasing as you caught your breath, his head tipping back forward against his shoulders and blissed-out eyes narrowing on you. 

“Tongue out for me, pretty girl.”

Your stomach flipped at his words, at the gravel in his tone, the way he yanked your hair back to control you as you opened your mouth, tongue falling out as he’d asked. 

His cocky smile grew as you grinned back at him. Guiding his cock back to your mouth, he let the weight of it sit on your tongue, rubbing softly, pre-cum leaking and the taste of him made your thighs clench together. 

He didn’t miss the action, not at all, his hips thrusting lazily in and out of your mouth as he gave you a nod. Sealing your lips back around him, you moved enthusiastically once again, bobbing up and down along his cock, wringing every bit of pleasure from him that you possibly could. 

“So fucking good, baby, just like that. You like sucking my cock, huh? Always so eager for my cum in your mouth.” Pulling back, his cock fell free of your lips, spit tainted with red lipstick and pre-cum connected his tip to your lips, and he gathered it on his fingers. That same hand cupped your cheek, smearing it across your skin, “Not today though. Today, all my cum is going in that pretty pussy of yours.”

Kissing across his abs as you rose to your feet, his mouth was slamming onto your own. Tongue plunging in, your moan was lost to his lips as he worked at your clothes too, tugging at your dress, horned headband falling to the floor as he yanked the garment over your head. 

Kicking off his trousers and stripping himself the rest of the way, he panted, eyes wide, admiring the lace set you’d donned for his eyes only tonight. “You’ve been wearing this all night, and you let me chase you ‘round for hours?”

His hands skimmed over your body, almost reverent with the lightness of his touch, tracing the corset top that hugged your chest, pushing your tits up to the perfect fullness. The panties with their tiny straps, sitting perfectly on your hips, across your cheeks to make your arse look round and shapely, the strings and ribbons that had his mouth watering as he stared in awe. “You like it?”

He only growled, a flash of cold travelling across his eyes as you fuelled the carnal desire boiling within him. He was moving in a flash, sitting on the edge of the bed and bending you sideways across his lap, his wet cock prodding your stomach as you gasped at his manhandling. His hand smoothed over your flesh, across the seam of your panties, chuckling at the wetness he found on the material, and swirling at your clit. “How many times, huh? How many times did I almost get to you, but you escaped me?”

“Th-Three.” Your mind was foggy, hazy as pleasure began to take over. Your eyes fluttered shut as you hung limply across his thighs, core clenching around nothing. He hadn't even touched you properly yet, and you were already falling apart for him. Your gut was tightening, hips rocking and pressing back onto his fingers as you neared that peak, the excitement and electricity of the night had had you worked up for hours now, all moving toward this. 

“Three times. Three times you ruined my victory, so I think three times, I’ll ruin yours.”

His words had barely even registered in your mind when his touch left you, a cry of protest being cut shut by a sharp slap across your ass, your body jerking forward at the force, and pleasure zipped through you, despite your denied orgasm. “Damn it, Matty…”

“That’s what you get, baby.”

You pushed yourself up, shaky hands, putting on your best pout as you turned to face him. He only mimicked the expression, mocking you. Tugging you in instead, he licked his way into your mouth, filthy, panting kisses taking over as he made sure to ruin whatever was left of your makeup. You adjusted yourself across his body, settling down to sit against one thigh, nipping on his bottom lip and rocking your hips. 

Slow, so slow, you moved over him, feeling the muscle of his thigh tense up underneath you, his hands roaming your body, distracted and oblivious of the pleasure you were taking for yourself as that fiery pleasure rekindled once again. He reached for the back of the corset, tugging at the hoops, undoing them roughly until it was falling to the floor and he was catching one nipple between his lips. 

“Oh, fuck, Mattheo…” You whispered, arching closer to him, pushing your chest further into his face as he teased his teeth across the taut bud. A sob left your lips, fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the roots to convey words that were melting to nothing on the top of your tongue.

His arm caught around your waist, tugging you closer into his body, making it harder for you to move as you tried to squirm in his lap. His breathy laugh spread over the skin of your chest as he littered it with hickies, switching to the other side and leaving one wet, perky nipple cool in the air of the room.

“Matt, please!”

“Please, what? What do you want, my love?” When he was satisfied with the havoc he was wreaking on your body, his attention moved to your neck. Your arms around his shoulders, head tossed back, panting and whining as you ground against his thigh. “You wanna’ come, baby?”

“Y-Yeah.” The feeling was burning through your veins, taking you over, your eyes rolling back as your pussy throbbed. 

He pulled you in, a finger and thumb on your chin to guide your face back to his own, lips brushing. “Too bad.”

He gripped you once again, both arms holding you steady, unable to chase any kind of pleasure, as he kissed your neck, his smirk on your skin showing he knew just what he was doing. 

“Thought you’d get away with that, didn’t you? I’m not even going to count that one.” Tugging your panties to the side, two fingers sank into you, and your back arched into his body as he touched you at last. “You can’t win at my game. My little loser, huh? What a shame.”

You were shaking atop him, the feeling of his fingers, the curl and the pump he knew so well. Mattheo could read your body like a map, he knew just what you needed, just how to touch you, and he was using that to his advantage. Two fingers became three, stretching you out deliciously and yet it still wasn’t enough. You collapsed against his body, desperate to come, moaning like a whore and forever on the edge as he toyed with you. 

Your forehead was pressed to his, crying his name, begging against his mouth as he licked at your lip, tipping his head up to catch you for a kiss. When he pulled away this time, you could feel the tears in your eyes, nails digging into his skin, pleading with sounds that no longer resembled words. 

You could feel his frustration; every time he’d almost found you, every dead-end, every narrow escape.

A sick, twisted part of you was loving every second of this delicious torture, and you found yourself face down in the sheets, panties around your thighs and his cock slamming into you, so hard that a scream ripped through you. 

“Shh, you can take it, my little demon. I know you can.”

“I can, Matty. I can take it. I can take more.” You wanted it, you wanted it bad, spurring him on. Your hands scratched in the covers, legs spreading even further, body rocking with every deep thrust he gave you. His kisses travelled over your spine as your tears smeared mascara and eyeliner into the sheets. His body smothered you, one hand coming around to clasp your own, love shining through in his actions even as he ruined you, took you apart until your mind was shattered. 

You’d be wrecked in the morning, you’d surely be unable to walk, sore legs and trembling limbs, you’d have to spend half the morning just recovering from the way he was fucking you now. Brutal, fast, slamming in and out and making you sure your eyes would never come back from how far they were rolled into your head. 

Nerves were lighting up, electricity shooting along every cell of your body as his slick skin slid against yours, one hand in your hair, tugging your head back as his lips brushed your ears. 

“Wish you could see yourself, pretty girl. Wish you could see what I see. Shaking, dripping, my cock sliding in and out of this pussy like you were made for me.” He slowed his pace, for just a second, and you keened back into him, chasing the pleasure that was already building once again, even if you knew it would be fruitless. 

You may have lost the ability for sentient thought, but his count was ringing in your head, only two of three failed orgasms served. Your body tensed with a shudder, the anticipation lingering in the air like a sword over your head.

“You really do belong in the pits of hell, don’t you? Look what you do to me.” His teeth grazed over your shoulder, biting down on your skin enough to make you cry out his name, bucking against his touch as he soothed the bite with gentle licks. “There’s nothin’ angelic about you, you’re nothin’ but a sinner.”

His name spilled from your lips, again and again, like you were begging for redemption. 

“You’re on your knees, but you’re praying to me.”

His hand snaked around your body, finding your swollen clit and brushing his fingertips across it, pitching the bud harshly between his fingers. “Matt—”

“You want to come?”

“Yes!” 

“What a shame.” He slipped himself out of your cunt, spewed curses in anger leaving your wobbling lips, more tears spilling over as he took away the last part of your dignity. 

Twisting your entangled bodies, he guided you until your back met the bed sheets, pushing you up as he crawled over you. Hooking his fingers into the edges of those panties and pulling them away, he spread himself over you. 

He barely gave you time to recover, the stimulation all too much, as he lifted your legs to hook them over his shoulders plunge his cock back into the sopping heat of your cunt. 

This may have been his game, but when his forehead came to rest on your own, hands frantically bunching in the sheets beside your body, you knew the last round had begun. The ball was in your court, his own need displayed clearly on his face as he rutted into you desperately. His rhythm was lost, sloppy and out of control, and you squeezed yourself around his cock. 

You pressed sweet kisses to his lips, tempting him over the edge with a drag of your teeth across his lip, a lap of your tongue, and he was done for.

Finally, your peak crashed over you. Waves and waves, blinding pleasure that left you with silent, open-mouthed screams. Twitching underneath him, your fingers tore down his back, your legs snapped against his hips, holding him to your body as white-hot bliss drowned you. 

He only needed a few more thrusts, your back arching and his name a chant, enough profanities to scar anybody passing by as the lewd sounds of your movements covered your moans. He came with a groan, thrusting through until the sound tapered off into a whimper, his own unsteady body collapsed down on top of you. Dragging breaths into his lungs to recover as his sweaty body covered you, you hooked your arms around him, hugging him close, unwilling for him to move even a fraction.

You felt numb, the aftershocks of pleasure racing through your body, still twitching and shaking despite his weight on top of you. Freeing one hand, he smoothed it up your body, dragging from your thigh to your ribs, stroking softly in soothing motions, as his lips gave delicate pecks, shushing every lingering whimper that escaped. 

You reciprocated the action, raising one hand to land in his hair, fingers brushing through sweaty curls, as his cheek found your shoulder. 

“That… was some of the best sex we’ve ever had.” Your words were still breathless, and he laughed lightly, nodding against you where he lay. 

His skin was littered with lipstick, smudges of his facepaint on every part of your body, painted with love and lust everywhere you’d touched one another. The night was still heavy on your skin, the festivities outside still raging even if your night had come to an end. 

Maybe minutes had passed, maybe hours, but eventually, Mattheo dragged himself up, pulling himself free from your body, and smirking down at every mark he’d left on your skin. With unbalanced steps, he wandered away to the bathroom of his dorm, the squeak of the taps and the splash of water in the basin signalling the running of a bath. 

He offered you a hand as he returned, pulling you to your feet, the two of you wobbling your way through to the bathroom and taking stock of your mess as the water ran. Elixirs and salts, the fresh smell of jasmine and honey filled the air, and then you were sinking in, leaning back against Mattheo’s body as the two of you revelled in the hot water. 

His hand looped around your body, fingers lacing with yours and resting on your stomach, as his chin hooked over your shoulder. For a while, the two of you remained just like that, chasing the cold of the night from your bones and merely enjoying one another’s company.

“Tell me, was that your little friend— the one who was ripping out hearts for the Weasel-twins— that I saw running from Nott in the woods, this evening?”

“Oh, Matty,” You chuckled, turning to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “You have no idea the games she’s been playing tonight.”

He only grinned, head resting on the edge of the tub. “I fear those two together, they’ll rip each other’s hearts out.”

“Maybe so,” You mused, his fingers dragging along your ribs, and you shuddered happily. “Or maybe, they just found their perfect match together.”

“Just like I found you.” He whispered, lips brushing along your cheekbone, and you scoffed. 

“You’re so cheesy.”

“It was your game!”

Your hum echoed off of the walls. “Don’t tell Theo. I want to see how it plays out.”

“What, and ruin the surprise? I would never.” He smirked, “Besides, Theo didn’t help me find you, let him search for a while.”

Holding onto his forearm banded around your waist, your fingers traced up and down, before his hand caught yours, holding tight and weaving fingers your together. 

“I love you, but don’t you ever run from me again. There is not a place on this earth you could hide that I wouldn't find you. I’d search forever.”

“You know,” You whispered, turning in his arms to sit across his lap, and he made a happy sound, face tipping up to brush his lips on your own. “That sounds vaguely threatening. You’re a little bit fucked up.”

“That’s because it is a threat, and a promise. Besides, you’re a little bit fucked up too, because I know you love it.”

You couldn't deny it, only able to snicker in response instead, and press a firm kiss to his lips, which he was happy to return. “I love you too, Matty. Now, let’s try and scrub off all this makeup, hm?”

#mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle/reader #mattheo riddle/you #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin boys #benjamin wadsworth

[shdo-xplosion]

k. bakugou x reader

warnings: medieval au, angst with a somewhat happy ending, childhood friends to lovers (with some hiccups in between), brief mentions of death, morbid jokes, outdoor sex, p in v, fem-bodied reader, bkg calls you his ‘woman’ once

word count: 3k

notes: tbh i do not know where this came from. i had a very vague idea and ran with it, and here we are. hopefully everyone can enjoy it! (´͈ ᵕ `͈ ）

You’ve been traveling for so damn long, legs sore from the never ending trek, heels blistered from the rub of your boots, face chafed from the dry winds.

It could be worse, you suppose. The elements could be harsher. You’re lucky that it’s springtime and you’re not stuck in the dead of summer or winter. Plus, your company is better than most. It’s quiet between the two of you, as it has been for the last couple of years, but there’s no bickering, just a few snide comments borne of exhaustion. Truthfully, both of you are too tired to argue like you used to.

Suddenly, a rough hand shoots out to stop you in your tracks, and you look at Katsuki in alarm.

“Wha-”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

His crimson eyes are fixed on something on the horizon. It’s nothing more than a glimmer to you, but if you squint…

“Is that…”

“Water.”

A river from the looks of it, beckoning you with open arms.

The two of you take off at a run (or the closest your aching bodies will allow), stumbling over dirt and grass until you’re at the edge of the glimmering stream. It babbles at you happily, splashing over rocks and caressing the earth around it.

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” you half-joke. It is magnificent, but it still somehow pales in comparison to the man next to you who’s ripping his boots off. Not even this water could quench the craving you have for him.

“Gonna feel even better,” Katsuki mutters, glancing over at you then urging, “what, you shy? Take your clothes off n’ get in.”

Your cheeks heat at the demand but you end up doing just that. You haven’t bathed in god knows how long. The only water you had before was strictly for drinking no matter how much you had wanted to pour some over your head at times.

Like Katsuki, you pull your boots off first then shrug out of your outer layer of leather hide. Riding pants then your tunic. You hesitate at your undergarments, eyes darting to Katsuki’s already nude form as he drops to the ground and dips his legs in the river. His broad shoulders sag in relief, the wide expanse of his back exposed to the sunlight and glistening gold under the heat. You miss touching it, tracing over every pale scar, counting the stray freckles that dot his spine and ribs…

“Don’t be so awkward about it.” His voice snaps you out of your daydream. “Nothin’ I ain’t seen before.”

He’s right. It’s been a long time, but still. You’ve seen every inch of one another in the past, patching up training wounds then brushing lips over them.

“Don’t be so pushy,” you mumble, finally pushing your underwear down and taking off the wrap around your chest. Taking a deep, unencumbered breath, you let a small smile creep onto your face. The wind feels nice for once, cooling your skin that’s been sticky with sweat for what feels like forever.

Katsuki is standing now, up to his hips in the water, and holds a hand out for you. He doesn’t bother averting his eyes, only ever having been a gentleman when it’s suited him and apparently this is not one of those times.

It’s chilly at first, but after submerging your whole body, wetting your hair, the temperature is more than pleasant.

“Gods, that feels good,” you groan, scratching your nails over your dripping arms to scrub away as much grime as you can.

Katsuki dunks his head under, shakes his hair like a dog when he straightens up and pelts you in the face with stray drops. You splash him in return and initiate a small war, both of you now in a rare giddy mood despite your terrible circumstances.

The village was the only place you’d known. You spent your days like most of the other kids, tending to the land and training. It didn’t matter if you were a boy or a girl or whose house you came from. Everyone had to learn to fight, to brandish sword and shield and be ready to raise both in the event of a raid.

In the end that training hadn’t helped. What’s a few blades against a mountain of fire? How can a shield defend a burning corpse?

When all was lost—your mother, father, and the tiny shack you called home, you were ready to give up. Flames licked at your face, and smoke filled your lungs, but a familiar hand tugged you up from your knees and pulled, dragging you as he ran.

Out of the entire village, you and Katsuki are the only survivors.

You’ve thought about the event since your journey to the kingdom began, but in this moment, as the two of you fling water at each other, you don’t think about it at all. All you see is Katsuki’s sharp smile, the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the lightheartedness displayed on his face.

Even when you were kids Katsuki was a little severe. He was loud and abrasive and always scowling. Most of the other children were scared of him, but you never were. Where others saw rabid animal you saw a lonely boy who needed a friend, and you were more than happy to be that friend.

You were just training buddies at first and then your families began sharing meals, trading eggs for milk, splitting chores. Other families in the village had been doing the same for ages, but it had taken meeting Katsuki and his parents for yours to make the same connection.

Swapping meals turned to swapping stories, playing pretend, exploring the tall grasses and woods, and when both of you grew older it all progressed into something much more. Kisses under the moonlight, wildflowers at your window, nervous hands brushing over bare bodies.

Your parents knew and didn’t mind. The assumption was that you and Katsuki would start a family of your own, raise your own strong, passionate children.

Katsuki had other plans, though. A secret he had kept for years.

You’re going to leave me to fight for a king that doesn't care about us? Who keeps us pressed into the dirt with the toe of his boot?

I’m trying to make sure you’re okay! That everyone’ll be taken care of!

Everyone is fine here! We have land we can farm! We have stock to eat and water to drink!

How’s that enough for you?!

Your voices were raised, echoing through the trees that usually hid your late night escapades. Now they hid the end of them.

There was a town nearby. Small but bigger than the village. It had stone streets and places to shop, shelter that would actually keep you dry during storms and warm during winter. If Katsuki became a soldier, he’d be able to move you and his family there.

His family but not yours.

It simply wasn’t an option. You couldn’t leave them behind, and you were appalled that Katsuki would even suggest it. So that was it. That was your last real conversation. Everything else was about milk or eggs or crops. There was nothing left to say. Even when months passed and Katsuki didn’t leave the village you had no words for him, afraid to get reattached only to lose him.

Now, though, in the cleansing waters, it feels like you have everything to say, words that have been stuck in your throat since he pulled you from the cinders of your ruined village.

You watch him from the corner of your eye as he rubs his palms down his chest, nails reddening the muscles of his abdomen then scratching at the trail of hair that travels from his belly button to the water.

“Enjoying the view?” he chuckles, laugh growing when you whip your head away from him. “S’okay. I’m lookin’ too.”

That only makes you turn all the way around, crossing your arms over your breasts as the place between your legs begins to throb. He’s looking at you like that? After everything?

You take a shuddering breath, squeeze your eyes shut tight when you feel him touch your hip.

“Don’t.”

His thick fingers curl around the curved bone.

“Kat…”

“Why?” His voice is low, right behind you so that you feel the question on the nape of your neck.

“Because,” you sigh, “I don’t want you to just because you don’t have any other options. Just because it’s only us.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

His other hand is on you now, both reaching around your waist to lock right above your pelvis.

“Why’d you stop talkin’ to me? Why didn’t we ever make up?”

“Why didn’t you ever leave?” you counter.

He goes rigid, arms tightening around you. “Didn’t want to.” Then, much quieter, “didn’t wanna leave you.”

The words hit you right in the chest, ricocheting in your ribcage. You wiggle to turn in his grasp, eyes wide as they stare into his.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

Katsuki frowns. One of those deep frowns. “You wouldn’t give me time of day! Any time you saw me you’d turn around. Could barely fuckin’ look at me.”

“Can you blame me?” You pull yourself out of his arms. “You wanted me to leave my parents behind. You wanted me to leave everything behind!”

“I wanted you to be taken care of! I wanted to take care of you!

You scoff. “I can take care of myself, Katsuki.”

“I know you can, but so can I. And I should,” he rasps. He looks more emotional than you’ve ever seen him, hair plastered to his forehead, water streaming into his pleading eyes. “I should be your husband by now.”

Your brain shuts down momentarily, unsure if you actually heard what he just said. He still wants to marry you?

“Of course I still wanna marry you!” Must have said that out loud. “I still wanna do everything with you. I’d walk through hell if I got to do it with you.”

Don’t cry. Do not cry. Do not show that you’ve been waiting to hear those words since that last fight.

He wipes a tear from under your eye with a calloused thumb, expression softening.

“Well,” you clear your throat, “I guess you’re in luck since we’re going through hell right now. Burnt village. Dead families…”

“Probably gonna get thrown in the dungeons when we get to the palace,” he adds casually. “King doesn’t take too kindly to outsiders.”

“Will you still think I’m pretty when rats start nibbling on my toes?” It’s dark to joke about. But life has not been kind to you as of late, and even in the midst of all of your fear and grief, you’re finally able to crack a smile (sad as it may be), and your stomach flips the way it used to.

“I’ll still think you’re pretty when they eat your face,” he tells you, caressing your cheek. It’s so sincere that it makes you laugh.

“That’s absurd.”

“What’s absurd is that I haven’t kissed you in a god damn eternity.”

You nearly tackle him into the water, arms around his neck as he catches you with a small ‘oof’, and even though the entire top half of your body is exposed to the air, it still feels like you’re entirely submerged. Drowning in Katsuki without want for oxygen.

His lips are chapped just like yours, yet they’re the softest thing you’ve ever felt. Gentle even with hungry teeth, tender even with his greedy tongue.

The water, once cool, feels boiling, like your bodies are giving off steam. His hands grab at your ass, fingertips digging into the fat of it before he lifts you to set you on the riverbank.

You immediately lock your legs around him, like you’re scared of him suddenly disappearing, but Katsuki attaches himself to you in the form of his mouth on your skin, nipping down your neck, sucking bruises down your shoulder and collarbone.

Frantic fingers find their way between your legs, grazing the inside of your thighs before softly brushing your sensitive folds.

“Missed you so much,” Katsuki grumbles, lowering himself in order to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

You hold his head tightly, pulling him further into you. “I missed you too, Kat. So much.”

The first finger sinks into your heat, making you whimper in satisfaction. Katsuki continues to suck on your hardened bud, swirling his tongue around it to distract you from the stretch of his second finger and the slight burn that comes with it.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“I know, I know, I got you.” He uses a thumb to massage your clit, your legs trembling as your body begins to open up for him. “Can’t wait to feel your cunt again.”

“I’m ready,” you tell him. “I want you, please…”

“Not yet, sweetheart. I want you dripping’ before I give you my cock.”

You whine, thighs flexing around his waist. You aren’t giving him much room to work with, but you can’t stand the thought of letting him go. His hand is pressed tightly against you, fingers so deep in your pussy as he pumps and curls them. He finds your spot as if he had just touched you yesterday, always so good at reading you, and kisses your throat when you throw your head back.

He abuses the spongy tissue until you’re leaking into the water below, moaning his name and pulling his hair.

“Please, please, need you, Kat.”

He chuckles, an almost condescending, “shh shh, baby. It’s okay.”

He lines himself up and pushes in slowly—so slowly—his thick cock spreading your gummy walls. He feels impossibly large after so long apart, his tip alone stretching your entrance thin so that you scrunch your eyes shut.

“Feel so good already,” Katsuki groans. He pushes his hips forward, and even through the burn your body sucks him in further, begging for more.

“Takin’ me so well, fuck…”

Once he’s bottomed out, Katsuki stays still for several seconds, and your cunt clenches around him automatically, still trying to adjust to his size.

A slow rhythm to start, steady thrusts that drag along your walls and gently slide over your most sensitive spot. Moans stay caught in your throat, mouth open, and you know that as soon as you start making noise you won’t be able to stop.

Katsuki begins moving his hips faster, making the water splash around you on the bank. The chill of it is a stark contrast from the heat of Katsuki’s body and the affectionate burn in your chest.

His strong hands wrap around your head, holding you as he kisses you fiercely. His rhythm stutters, but his lips move against yours perfectly, forming the words, “I love you,” so desperately that it makes you ache. “I love you, I love you. I never stopped.”

“I love you too,” you breathe heavily into him, muscles tightening with every pointed thrust. Your sticky slickness drips out of you, making the slide of his cock effortless. He feels so good, so deep inside you the way he’s supposed to be. Always supposed to be.

“Squeezin’ me so sweet,” he croons, jaw dropping open as he loses himself in sensation. “Always so sweet to me…”

The feeling of his fingers on your clit again is enough to send you over the edge, your nails digging semi-circles into his back as you cry his name loud enough to echo in the emptiness around you.

The rhythmic pulsing of your orgasm milks the cum from Katsuki’s cock, the warmth of it coating your insides, filling you to the brim. He gasps with every thick string he shoots into you until he’s finally dry.

You let him rest his head on your shoulder for some time, giving you both a chance to catch your breath before you pull him out of the water and topple over into the grass.

The sun is setting, the sky painted orange and pink in the afterglow of yet another day. You admire the way it shines over the treetops, the rays of it bathing you in such a comforting way. Everything will be okay, you think. We can survive as long as we’re together.

“Guess I should go find us some food,” Katsuki eventually muses, adding a smirking, “gotta make sure my woman stays fed.”

You roll your eyes and give him a light shove. “Your woman can feed herself, thank you very much.”

“Don’t I know it,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows. “Never seen you so cock-hungry.”

“Oh my gods, Katsuki!”

“I’m just sayin’!” he laughs. More like cackles.

Your glare holds no weight, but you still suck your teeth at him and mumble, “think I’d prefer the rats over this.”

“Won’t be nearly as filling as—”

You cut him off by rolling on top of him and covering his mouth with yours. “Stop talking.”

He hums, settling his hands on the small of your back. “Only if you keep doin’ this.”

“I will if you keep your promise to marry me.”

“Second I can, I will.”

2023©️shdo-xplosion. please do not plagiarize, alter, or repost my work to any other platforms.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou smut #bnha x reader

[milkywaydrabbles]

I'm the same fluff anon that I didn't know you could cook, now you think you can do something with the indication "I know you had a bad day, so I made you cookies", we have to continue loving and caring for that great Dhampir, please?

A/N: Ahh this one is short, I couldn't think much for it but I'm always a sucker for fluff and I love Alucard sm so here you go. I hope you enjoy it anyways! Mwuah!

"I know you had a bad day, so I made you cookies." x Alucard

Ugh.

Alucard couldn’t think of a single good thing to say about the day. It turned out to be longer and more difficult than he ever intended it to be. Finally trudging back home, the day simply had to shit on him even more before his boot got stuck in mud, nearly sucking the whole thing into the ground. Honestly, Alucard had half a mind of just leaving it there. He didn’t really need the boot anyways. Decided against it, he pulled it out and uncomfortably placed it back on his foot, squishing within the halls of his castle. He didn’t even call out to you, as he normally would, instead sneaking up the steps and going straight to bathing -- he’d clean up the boot marks later. His sweat and all the muck from the outside made his skin crawl, peeling off layers of clothing onto the bathroom floor to bathe. The water felt incredible, immediately soothing his aching muscles as he dipped in, relishing in the warmth. He’d be quick, just needed to scrub away today’s troubles...

-

Alucard in fact, was not quick.

He’d actually fallen asleep in the bath. Eyes shot open, scanning the room with a fright. How the hell did he fall asleep? It was difficult enough to sleep, let alone with you, and yet he’d completely dozed off. He wasn’t sure for how long, but there was still some sunlight when he got home and now it was terribly dark. Shit. He wondered if you even knew where he was, if you were scared for him, if you were waiting--

“Adrian, honey, are you awake now?” 

...Wait, huh?

He must have said that out loud, because he heard you giggle and walk over, kissing his forehead. “I saw you in here earlier, but you dozed off and I didn’t want to wake you...I checked up on you a few times, make sure you didn’t slip under.” You teased, combing his hair with your fingers. “Come on, pretty boy--you’re gonna get pruny.” As if he wasn’t already.

He really was still in a daze, not entirely sure what was going on--you just let him sleep? He must have been really out of it if he didn’t wake up to you walking in.. The dhampir sleepily dressed himself, and when he found you again immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “Darling, you should have gotten me up, I could have helped with dinner.” He stifled a yawn, inhaling deep after--whatever you had made smelled delicious. And there was something...sweet, in the air. 

“Did you make dessert?”

You nodded, turning around in his arms and kissing his jaw, the closest bit to you. “I know you had a bad day, so I made you cookies.” There was no way he could have been out for that long, that you could have made everything from scratch...right? “How did you--” “Just call it a woman’s intuition, you walked out of here this morning so grumpy...I made the batter earlier for tonight.”

It’s like you could read his mind.

He chuckled anyways, tightening his hold on you and swaying back and forth. “How you read me like a book, I’ll never understand my love. But I am very grateful for you, all the same.” You hummed, nuzzling into his chest and wrapping your arms around him. “It’s my job to know you like the back of my hand. I’m your wife.” You teased, hands trailing up to caress his jaw, bringing him down to your level and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love you dearly, never forget that.” You reminded him over and over again each day, and he silently thanked every god in the sky for bringing you to him.

“Now let’s have dinner, hm? Then we’ll have the cookies later.”

#milk writes #adrian tepes #castlevania #alucard #alucard x reader #adrian tepes x reader #alucard tepes x reader #castlevania (2017) #castlevania alucard #castlevania nocturne #milk flufftober

[makethatelevenrings]

One Star Review // J. Todd x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: injury, blood, medical talk

Summary: When working a late night shift at the drug store, a certain vigilante comes stumbling in with a stab wound and a bad attitude.

The bell over the door chimed, setting off your Pavlovian response to greet the incoming customer. By the time you raised your head, you found no one standing there. Peeking over the counter, you spied a trail of blood drops on the linoleum tiles and sighed.

Working at a twenty-four hour drugstore in Gotham was a guarantee for stories to bring home to your roommates, but the novelty had worn off by the third robbery. You wished you could say that random people stumbling in with injuries was rare, but you weren’t raised to be a liar.

“Hi, can I help you?” you called. A low curse met your ears and you moved out from behind the bulletproof glass covered desk to peer down the aisles. The trail led you towards the first aid section. Of course.

“Do you need help?” you tried again.

“Fuck off,” was your reply.

You huffed and turned around the end of the aisle to find Red Hood of all people leaning up against the shelves with one hand clasped over his side and the other full of various first aid items. Planting your hands on your hips, you stared at him with an unimpressed look on your face.

“This is my store, bitch boy. Don’t tell me to fuck off,” you snapped. “And sit down before you hurt yourself worse.”

“I’m gonna write a review,” he grumbled. “Terrible service. Employee called me a bitch boy.”

“Tough,” you said. You gestured for him to follow you over to a chair next to the blood pressure cuff. “Now move it.”

He sighed and maneuvered his large frame into the small chair. Red Hood pulled his hand away from his side and you could see the angry, pulsing wound under his destroyed body armor. A hiss of empathetic pain passed through your teeth and you leaned in closer to see it.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” he snapped.

“Do you want to be a dick and bleed out or do you want help? Because you can’t do both.”

That shut him up, thankfully. You poured a glob of hand sanitizer on your hands and scrubbed it in before you pulled on a pair of the latex gloves from the box he grabbed. Gently, you pulled his ruined kevlar away from his skin and examined the wound.

“You got stabbed,” you noted. “Didn’t go too deep, luckily. Must have been a sharp knife to break through this material.”

“Assassins,” he muttered.

“Yeah, that’ll do it.” Grabbing the saline wash and some clean gauze wrappers, you ripped open the gauze and poured saline on it. Without giving him a warning, you pressed it against the wound. Red Hood, to his credit, barely flinched.

“I’m in an EMT class right now,” you explained. “I’ve always been interested in this stuff but shit, it’s expensive. By the way, you better be paying for this stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah. Put it on my tab,” he said through gritted teeth.

The two of you fell into an easy silence as you packed his wound and applied a layer of thick gauze before taping it onto his skin. You tried to ignore the very pronounced dips of his abs, but how could you when they were right there? The second you were done taping down the edges, he was fighting to stand up.

“Woah,” you exclaimed. Your hands landed on his shoulders and you pushed him back into the seat. “You lost a lot of blood so I wouldn’t try to get up too quickly.”

“I need to get back out there,” he argued. “Thanks for the help, but you did your job. Now I need to do mine.”

Your face went deadpan and you stared at him with pursed lips and raised brows. “Okay, fine. But if you go out there and ruin my handiwork, you will have to live with the guilt of knowing that you were a dick to a retail employee.”

Red Hood’s helmet stared off into the distance for a moment before he grumbled out a “fine” and settled back in the chair. A triumphant smirk settled across your face and you started to gather up the trash you had tossed around you when patching him up.

“Let me grab you a juice and some crackers to help with your blood sugar. Any kind you want?”

He sighed. “Apple, please.”

When you returned to the back of the store, the chair was empty except for a single one-hundred dollar bill and a business card. The card was face down, blue ink marking the empty white space of the back.

Call her, it instructed. You flipped it over and read the name printed on the front. Dr. Leslie Thompkins.

“Huh,” you murmured to yourself. You were definitely telling your roommates about this the second you got home.

Tag List: @mcrmarvelloki​ @gone-batty-fics​ @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @cursedandromedablack​ @alexxavicry​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @raging-trash-of-mind​ @kat-nee​ @khaylin27​ @igotanidea​ @princessbl0ss0m​

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood

[kteezy997]

The Other Man- Part Six// t.c.

yes, im using this photo to torture you.

Warnings: fluffy as hell, shower sex, oral sex male receiving, actually I’m gonna stop with the warnings on this one bc honestly this is very explicit and filthy, if you're not 18 or older don't read this lol

Timmy said, ‘I love you.’ It didn’t shock you; it didn’t make you shoot your eyes open and ask him if he was crazy. His words didn’t even faze you in that way. It was quite the opposite, actually. You were soothed by it.

He didn’t expect you to respond. You both just went straight to sleep, feeling relaxed and cozy together on the couch.

In the middle of the night, he awoke and carried you to your bedroom upstairs so you could sleep more comfortably. You had the images of him tucking you in with your warm blankets flashing through your dreams.

In the early morning, you woke up before him. You looked over at him, he stirred but didn't raise out of his slumber. You took the moment to admire his pure beauty. His curls were messy from sleeping and splayed across his pillow and his forehead. His naked chest rose and fell with his rhythmic breathing. His eyelashes were thick, and they fluttered some as his eyelids moved ever so noticeably as he dreamt. You took it upon yourself to smooth out his overgrown, woolly brows.

"Baby." you whispered to him, thinking that he could certainly hear you in his shallow state of sleep.

"mm." Timmy grumbled lightly. He could hear you.

"I'm gonna get in the shower." you said softly, then kissed his forehead after you pushed his disheveled curls back. You smiled to yourself as you watched him snuggle deeper into the pillow, too sleepy to get up yet.

You stepped into the shower feeling happier than you had been in years. You weren't stressed, you weren't annoyed at Billy for leaving his clothes or a towel on the bathroom floor, you weren't even thinking about work. You called in and said you were sick when you woke up. You never took days off, so you had some sick days you could use up.

The warm water flooded your skin, soothing any aches and pains that Timmy had given you during your lovemaking. To be honest though, you would carry around the soreness in your core all the time, just to be reminded that you were now his, and he was yours.

You felt a little bit guilty about not saying that you loved him back. You hoped he didn't go to sleep with any doubts about your feelings for him. You lathered up and scrubbed away at your face and body, knowing that you had a layer of sweat all over you from last night.

You heard the bathroom door open: Timmy.

He pulled the shower curtain back, grinning at you and then stepping into the shower with you. He got behind you, pulled the curtain closed, and gently swept your wet hair back. Kissing you on the cheek, he started to rub your shoulders.

You moaned softly in relief.

Timmy went on massaging your neck, kneading his fingers into your skin. He ran his palms down your arms, taking his time. You knew what was happening. He was spoiling you, just the same way as you did to him on your first night together. It meant a lot to you for him to lay back and let you love him. And now, without the words, he was returning the favor. Not that he needed to at all, but he wanted to, without an ounce of selfishness.

He kissed your neck, left little pecks on your shoulders, but it wasn't because he hoped to fuck. It was love. And you knew it.

"Timmy," you said, carefully turning toward him, "I'm sorry I fell asleep before responding to what you said last night."

He smiled, "Don't worry, I didn't think anything of it." He moved in front of you, wetting his hair. "We were both pretty beat anyway."

You bit your lip at the sight of his curls slumping down into his face as they got wet. You watched the water run down his tight body. He looked like a damn porn movie. He'd be the highest-paid star in the industry if he made the career change. You nearly salivated when you noticed the water droplets collected upon the dusting of pubic hair he had.

"Are you just looking or..." he spoke, and you looked up at him. His eyes turned a deep-sea green and he narrowed them at you. "Or are you wanting something?"

"Hmm." you hummed, flicking a sly grin at him before kneeling in front of him. You placed your hands on his wet thighs.

"y/n." he cooed your name and sank his fingers into your hair.

You took his cock into your hands, the water in the shower acting as a lubricant so you could stroke him. You kissed the tip, "Such a nice cock, baby." you said, pumping your hands slower to tease him.

Timmy murmured some curse words and put his hand on the shower wall. He looked down at you. You saw the muscles in his torso and arms tense up.

You put his cock between your moist lips. He used his hand to shield your eyes from the water falling down. You slurped and sucked on him, not totally able to fit his entire length in your mouth. But you did play with the tip and the slit with your tongue, swirling around it and flicking the spot where his precum began leaking out. You moaned when you tasted him, no doubt vibrating his cock.

Timmy smacked the shower wall, not hard, but just to relieve some of the tension he was feeling. He was bucking his hips softly, carefully, sliding his long cock in your mouth, barely grazing the back of your throat. "Fuck, I wanna be in your pussy." he huffed out.

You put a hand flat on his lower tummy, "Wait, baby, I wanna try something." You raised up, still on your knees, taking one of your breasts in each hand. You placed them on either side of his hard cock. It was red and leaking translucent white creamy streams. You used your tits to stroke him.

You thought Timmy's pretty eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. His mouth agape, he kept a hand lovingly on your back to hold you in place. His other hand was placed on your hand to help you keep your grip on your boobs as you pumped his cock.

"You are fucking everything." he praised you, petting your wet hair. He caressed your face. "Feels so incredible. I love your tits so much. You're perfect."

His words sent beams of throbbing aches to your pussy. You held his cock still between your breasts, and licked the slit of his cock, welcoming the salty cream of him onto your tongue again. You swallowed and giggled sinfully as you looked up at him.

"I'm gonna fuck you into oblivion." he said. And he did. He grabbed you forcefully, getting you back on your feet and shoved you against the wall. He propped your left leg over his hip and pushed his cock inside you in one go. He held your waist with his hands and rammed into you. Wet smacking sounds from your bodies echoed in the shower.

"Oh my God, Timmy!" you cried. Your breasts bounced and your hard, sensitive nipples met his chest with each thrust. The friction there was exquisite. Curse words spilled out of your mouth without you even knowing that you were saying them.

Timmy kissed you sloppily, on the lips, on the cheek, wherever he could get you.

You kissed back with the same passion. You wanted to devour this man. You put your arms around him tightly as he fucked you harshly. After about another minute, your thought your body would explode, but it was only an orgasm. You closed your eyes, seeing stars. You felt his hips shaking and he shot his load into you as well.

"Timmy," you said, breathing heavily and still hugging him, "I love you."

He rested his forehead on your shoulder. He hadn't let go of you yet, either. "You're not saying it just because my cock is in you, are you?"

"No!" you cried, you took his face in your hands, "I love you, Timothee Chalamet." You brushed his curls out of his eyes so he could know that you were sincere by seeing your eyes.

He nodded, "Good." he pecked your lips, and then turned to leave the shower.

You were left in the shower with your thoughts, and you couldn't help but feel down. You weren't convinced that he fully believed in you.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator

Author’s note: This isn’t as long as some of the other parts. I’ll make up for it.

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut

[happysaddca]

I'm gonna pretend this isn't as good cause I am feeling off today and not because I crammed like four different ideas into two scenes here and didn't flesh anything out as much as I would like normally.

There is some very, very mild suggestive flirting that goes nowhere.

I think I've got things worked out for Constellations Redeux now so drabbles like this will slow down in favor or working out other AUs/the actual story. But I'm still gonna need a beta reader :')

Oh, and your nickname from Sun is introduced here, so we're 3/4 on DCA nicknames. I'm not sure if it's noticeable, but I personally struggle if a fic overuses nicknames or explicitly says y/n or reader. So I avoid that as much as possible lol.

You barely make it three days before start worrying that Sun is angry with you. Moon’s reassurances can only work so long, especially since you have to work and sleep and sometimes even go home so your roommate knows you’ve not died and been turned into pizza. And with Sun and Moon back, your usual coping mechanisms only go so far. Still, you’re able to keep the seed from taking root for nearly two weeks. 

“How are they adjusting to being online again?” You’d been sent to fetch more flour from the main kitchen, where Anika is currently fussing with the pizza ovens. You’re avoiding going back upstairs, sneaking pepperoni slices every time her back is turned. 

“Okay as can be expected. Moon is still fronting every time I see them, even when it’s bright out.” Your mouth twitches and you rub at it absently, massaging the scars out of habit. “They haven’t Eclipsed at all since the restart, and Moon is mostly avoiding people. I think he’s nervous.” You pop a pepperoni in your mouth as Anika turns around. 

“Dude, don’t eat the product!” She rolls her eyes at you, going to wash her hands. “Between you and the other gremlins I work with, it’s amazing we have any food at all.” 

“You love us,” you say sing-song, but you pull away from the food, trailing after Anika. She turns and flicks you with water for your trouble. “Hey! You know I’m a witch. I’m gonna melt now and what are you gonna tell the Attendants?” 

“That I defeated the evil that eats all my pepperoni.” Another flick of water, and you give an overdramatic hiss, moving to hide behind Anika instead. 

“Cruelty, abuse, harassment. I should call HR on you now.” 

“Nah, I’ve got too much blackmail on you.” She shakes her hands dry and turns to lean against the sink and look you over. “You look less like a witch and more like a ghost. When’s the last time you’ve gone outside?”

“A couple days ago?” You are used to being stared at, but Anika has this uncanny way of making you feel like she’s not just looking, she’s peeling back the layers, clothes from skin, skin from fat, fat from muscle. Looking for something, something you decidedly don’t have. “I’ve been using the employee showers. Shockingly okay if you give them a good scrub first.” 

Her nose wrinkles anyway. “You know you have to go outside at some point. Your Sun and Moon won’t like you neglecting yourself for their sake. Neither will our Attendant for that matter.” 

“I haven’t even seen Sunny lately,” you complain, and a muscle twitches in your cheek. “I haven’t seen either Sun. What if they’re both—”

“Stop.” You open your mouth, but Anika holds her hand up. “Stop. I know this mental trainwreck far too well. Stop whatever oh they actually hate me mind game you’re playing and go talk to them.” 

“But the daycare is still open,” you protest weakly. Anika gives you a look. “I have to work?” 

“Then why are you down here eating all my pepperoni?” 

“Because you’re my friend and I was supposed to be getting flour,” you say slowly. “And friends let you avoid work to talk about relationship stuff?”

Anika rolls her eyes, walking around you and grabbing the massive bag of flour, shoving it in your arms with a grunt. “As your friend, I’m telling you not to let this fester. Talk to your Moon and Sun, and go see Sunny after work. And tomorrow, get the fuck out of this building. Sleep in an actual bed for eight hours and get some vitamin D.” 

You nod slowly, resisting the urge to pout, physically biting it back. “Okay. I will.” You pause before nodding again. “I will. Thank you Anika.” 

“You’re welcome. Now shoo. I have to test the oven and if it blows up I’d like to limit the casualties.” 

You do return to work, but it’s hard to concentrate when you want to skip the rest of your shift and find Moon. You text them, a quick reminder when you’re off, and proceed to overbeat your icing. You have to dump the ruined buttercream, starting over. It’s only a couple hours, but your attention is splintering fast, and by the time you can clock out, you’re itching to go.

“See you Alex! Sorry about dropping the fondant!” You get some mumble for a reply that’s completely missed as you open the back door and step out, directly into a hard exoskeleton and metal arms that catch you and wrap you in a hug. “Oh!”

“Hello to you as well. Where are you going in such a hurry?” Moon sounds amused even as it pulls you out of sight. “Did you have an appointment to get to?”

“I wanted to see you.” The unpleasant twinge in your stomach isn’t from getting dragged along. You reach up to flick the bell on Moon’s nightcap. “And Sun too, if they’re…” 

“She’s still resting.” Moon’s tone is apologetic even as you both stop near the back wall, out of sight of any but the nosiest of plex patrons. It cups your scarred cheek, leaning down for a kiss. “Starlight, you’re crying again.” A finger curls under your eye, catching a tear. 

“Sorry. I don’t mean to.” You try to wipe your eyes clear, but it just happens again as you chew on the inside of your cheek. “Can’t Sun come out, for just a little? I’ve not seen her since you were eclipsed. I know she’s there; the diagnostics are all fine and you wouldn’t lie b-but…” Shoot, now you were really starting to cry, and you tried to hide it, ducking your chin and covering your face with your hands. Moon’s fans have started alongside a click click clicking noise as it holds its hands out, servos popping. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Moon. I know it’s been a lot for you two, but I miss… I miss both of you.” 

“Star,” Moon’s voice peters out as you can’t seem to slow your tears, or your words. 

“I’ve not seen Sunny from the daycare either, and I know it’s because I’ve been spending so much time with you — and that’s not complaining! If I didn’t have to work, I’d always be with you. But it feels like both Suns are avoiding me now and I get it’s dumb but… does Sun hate me?”

Moon’s hands settle on your shoulders featherlight, pulling you into a hug. “It’s going to be okay,” it says, and a shiver goes through its frame. You pull back in time to nearly get poked in your good eye with one of Sun’s rays. You stare blankly, voice gone as Sun straightens, one hand checking everything was in place before turning that blank, unmoving smile on you. 

“Sun?” you say in a small voice, and she nods, something clicking inside her headcase. You’re immediately reaching out, ignoring the sharp edges of the rays, feeling for any irregularities you’d missed before with Moon. “What’s wrong? Can’t you speak?”

“I’ve missed you.” She speaks so softly you nearly miss it. “I’m sorry Sunflower. I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.” 

“Sun!” You hold her tightly, her rays digging into your arms before she can retract them. Their hands flutter over you before settling lightly on your back, barely touching you. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t. But we’ve been so worried about you.” You squeeze her more tightly to make up for the lack of a hug on Sun’s end. “Let me look at you. I want to see…” 

You pull back, hands sliding down Sun’s arms, curling into their sleeves just above their wrists. Sun watches you, but she holds still, rays remaining half retracted, an impression left from you. You have to wipe at your eyes again, realizing you’re still freely crying. “It looks like you took over easily enough. We don’t have the fiber optics in your clothes hooked up yet but—”

“Flower,” Sun says softly, and you quiet down, blinking hard. Sun’s hands shift, longer fingers tracing patterns on your inner forearms. “How can you tell anything when we look like this?” 

“Huh?” The confusion snaps you out of the lingering fog of upset. “Sun, it’s still you.” You reach forward, noticing Sun’s flinch before she holds still, letting you press your hand against one of the stuck rays. It pops out, nearly cutting your hand. “I know this isn’t ideal but… it’s. It’s still you in there.” You repeat the process twice more, until Sun is able to test them, ticking them in and out in a wave without them getting stuck. “We should oil those so when you come out they won’t get stuck like that.” 

“Flower.” 

You attempt a smile, playing with one of Sun’s rays, making it spring back and forth until Sun withdraws it completely. “I told you, your rays have always been your giveaway. We got to take care of them so they can keep giving you away.” Your giggle is a little manic, but a big hand covers your mouth and part of your jaw. You stare at Sun blankly, biting the inside of your cheek again. 

“How are you sure it’s us?” Sun asks again, her voice soft, nearly devoid of emotion. Her rays are half withdrawn, and you can tell they’re avoiding looking at your face. At least until you lick her palm. She jerks back in shock, staring at their hand, then you. “Sunflower, why! You don’t know what Moon’s been up to or the last time we washed our hands. You’ll get sick!” 

You smile and this time your laugh is far more genuine. You wipe at your mouth. “I’ll brush my teeth in a minute. How am I supposed to answer your questions when you won’t let me speak?” 

The rays pull back further in her head, and Sun looks away, wiping their palm clean on their pants. Your smile fades, and you lean forward, touching their knee. 

“I was worried we might’ve picked up the wrong chips,” you admit softly, scooting forward, wanting to touch as much of Sun as possible. “Anika had grabbed a bunch of different parts for Gemma to scan, but we were scared of waking you too early and giving you false hope. So there was this chance that something could go wrong. Gemma knew the spare body was safe enough but it wasn’t until you both came online that I really knew it was you and Moon. My Sun and Moon.” 

“But how? Other than our software, none of this is us.” Sun gestures vaguely at herself. “The clothes are close now, but we’re smaller, our faceplate is wrong and empty, our programming doesn’t map properly across these new actuators and servos.” 

“It feels bad, doesn’t it?” You aren’t able to properly smile, but you try anyway, lifting Sun’s faceplate to meet her eyes. This close, you can see the barest amount of light denoting where she’s looking. It’s not at you, but it’s close enough. “I’ve gone through the same thing. After the accident,” you ignore her flinch, “I had so many surgeries. Some of this skin on my face is from my thigh, you know. And some isn’t even from me.” You reluctantly touch the worst of your scars, the one that cuts over your eye. “I have metal pins in my arms and legs. Even my brain got damaged. I still don’t really know all the changes to my personality yet — hey, don’t look like that. This isn’t your or Moon’s fault.” You grab her face with both of your hands, squeezing it tightly, shaking her very gently. “Neither of you are allowed to blame yourself, okay? I’ll come in there if you do.” 

There’s a bubble of laughter from Sun, a hand catching and holding yours while her rays slowly extend. “And how will you manage that Flower?”

The laughter is infectious, and you giggle despite yourself. “I know you’ve not been fronting much, but I’ve made friends with some super smart people. We’ll upload my brain on the mainframe and inject it into your headspace so I can give you and Moon a proper chewing out. So unless you want to be stuck with me for all of eternity, you’ll get the idea this is your fault out of your mind.”

“How horrible would be to be trapped with you for all of eternity.” She pulls your hand over to her mouth, teeth pressing lightly against your palm. When you curl your fingers, tracing the length of their nose, her rays tick back and forth once again, fans whirring deep in her chest. 

“A nightmare even Moon won’t be able to save you from.” You take advantage of the moment, moving to crawl into Sun’s lap, back against her chest. If you lean back, you can watch her rays shift back and forth. Her arms settle slowly around you, still barely holding you. You have to tighten her arms around you yourself. “I know it’s a lot right now Sun, but Gemma is going to help make it easier. New pieces for your exoskeleton, better silicone. She’s currently working with another technician to recreate your old face. Anika’s other scavenged pieces are helping create some new code so you will control this endoskeleton more easily. It’ll be new, and it won’t quite be the same as before, but you’ll be in control of your body again. You’ll look like you again.” 

“You’re saying we will be like you? But there won’t be scars.” You shiver as Sun pulls her hands from yours, touching over your arm, pushing your sleeve out of the way. “We’ll look like our old selves.” 

“You can ask if you want to see,” you say, pulling Sun’s hand free. “Between the two of you I’m not sure if you’re trying to satisfy some morbid curiosity or get into my clothes.” 

“Sunflower.” She sounds scandalized, but there’s no true attempt at denial. 

“Besides, I think there will be scars. Maybe not as visible as mine, but… this isn’t easy.” 

“No.” It comes out like a sigh, and for the first time Sun hugs you tightly. “I don’t like feeling so lost Flower. We’ve lost everything.” 

She’s not entirely wrong. Her daycare, her body, the children she’d basically helped raise. They were all gone. 

“But you have Moon again.” 

Quiet except for the sounds of Sun working away inside, the pitch of her insides indicating a second opinion from Moon itself. “I do,” she finally says, her face dipping into your hair. “And we have you.” 

“And you have me,” you agree. You sigh, the sound dragging out all the tension from your shoulders and back. You ragdoll against Sun, and they hold you tightly, concerned until you give a smile. “We’ll figure it out. I promise Sun.” 

Sun is quiet, and when you look up, her rays are withdrawn again. They look away when they catch you staring, hands dropping away. 

“Sun,” you try again. “It’s all right if you don’t feel better.” 

“You can read me, even like this.” Sun’s chuckle is sad. “I don’t hate you. But I hate this. I hate being this.” Her hand lifts and drops again. “Moon is handling it a little better. That’s why it has been center stage.” 

“I understand,” you say. There’s a pang of pain deep in your heart and you gather her arms around you again. “If Moon is comfortable being in control, then… then I understand. But please don’t hide away all the time. I know, I know you don’t hate me but it can still be hard. Is that too much to ask for?”

You can hear and feel Sun shift, rays extending as her neck cricks to one side, thinking. “I think it’s all right,” they say finally. “I think Moon will appreciate the break too.” 

“Have you two been all right?” you ask, leaning your head back once again to watch Sun’s rays. She nods and then gives a little, uncertain shrug. 

“We have been talking. It’s so good for Moon to be itself again, but there’s still pain. And distance.” Sun’s voice flattens and cuts off before the end of their sentence, making her rays pop in and out in surprise. “Oh. That’s new.” 

“I think Moon disagrees with you.” You move slowly, pushing Sun’s legs wide so you can kneel between them and open your arms. Sun stares, rays still clicking in and out as a circle. “Come here.” 

“I’ll stab you with my rays. They aren’t flexible like my old ones.” 

“Don’t care.” You wiggle your fingers at her. “Come here.” Sun does eventually move into your arms, rays withdrawing so you can rest your chin on top of her faceplate. You squeeze her tightly again as her arms wind around your middle carefully. “You’re not going to break me,” you promise. “Everything’s all healed up now, even the brain stuff.” 

“You’re not as funny as you think you are.” Sun’s voice is muffled in your shoulder. 

“I’m hilarious. I learned from the best after all.” There’s a little giggle. “I’ve been working on my gymnastics too,” you add. “I can almost do a back flip.” 

“Oh really?” She sounds bemused. “You’ll have to show us sometime.” 

“You’ll need to hold my legs.” That got a proper snort, Moon and Sun overlapping. 

“I love you Sun,” you say softly. Sun’s arms slide further up, gripping the back of your shirt. “I’ll miss you. You should try texting me back sometime. Just to say how you’re doing.” Her grip tightens. “And I’ll try to say sooner if my thoughts start spiraling out of control again.” 

“Okay.” 

“Mm?”

Sun straightens, and you have to lean away to avoid knocking against her head. “I’ll text. If you promise to take care of yourself.” 

Ah. You feel your face go hot and it’s your turn to look away. “I’m fine, really! I just sort of spiraled with that one thought and we’re working on it now!” 

“You’re pale and you haven’t been sleeping well.” Sun’s fingers trap your chin and force you to look up. “Have you eaten any fruit or vegetables recently?” You grimace, and their thumb taps over your lips. “Have you been outside the pizzaplex at all this past week?”

“You’re a bully,” you complain, unable to escape. “I wanted to stay with you and Moon.” 

Sun’s hand slips from your chin to your apron pocket. You make a very undignified sound until she fishes out your phone, holding it up. “You will be with us. In our own head, in a way.” 

“Right.” Your lockscreen is an old picture of you and Sun, clearly taken by the animatronic. You take your phone back, holding it to your chest. “You won’t be able to escape me so long as I have this.” 

“How terrible,” Sun’s smile is in his voice. 

“The worst,” you agree. 

#fnaf daycare au #fnaf daycare attendant #daycare attendant #daycare attendant moon #daycare attendant sun #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #daycare attendant fandom #fnaf dca #sundrop #moondrop #seriously how many tags are there in the world that focus on the dca #constellations au #dca ocs #my writing #I'll be backtagging my writing soon

[strangerthingsstuff4]

A Story of Another Us- Chapter Three

Metal cutlery scraping off the China plates did little to drown out the laughter that filled the kitchen. Everyone crowded around the small table enjoying the company and the Zucchini and sausage casserole that Alicent had made from scratch for them. The mood was light as the stories flowed between them all.

‘So then Hel figures that I would love to be woken up to see the new spider she had caught and shoved the thing right in my face’ Aegon grinned, Haelena giggling uncontrollably at the memory.

‘You screamed like a little girl’ She added, holding her stomach from laughing.

‘Don’t worry Aegon I’ve been there too, every little insect in our dorm needs to be thoroughly inspected and cared for’ Dahlia chuckled, loving to see how their family enjoyed each other’s company.

Everyone had been sharing old stories and good times, everyone but Aemond. He had offered a few small smiles to stories that involved him or a quiet hum of acknowledgement but nothing more. Though Dahlia had avoided his direction purposely for the majority of the evening she had caught his eye line a few times. His bright iris’ staring back at her own, only for a second before one of them would look away uncomfortably. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking and it annoyed the hell out of her, his face was so unreadable.

‘Goodnight sweetheart’ Alicent smiled as Aemond stood, placing his plate in the dishwasher and heading for the door.

‘Night’ he mumbled, disappearing out of the room.

‘I’m gonna head up too’ Aegon yawned, stretching in his chair.

‘Not a chance, it’s your turn to load the dishwasher’ Haelena grinned, stopping her brother from standing up with a death grip on his arm.

While Aegon wallowed in self-pity of having to help tidy, Dahlia put the leftovers in the fridge and retreated to bed herself, a nice hot shower awaiting her. She had made sure everything was ready waiting for her, soap shampoo, nice dry clothes. All she needed was a towel and Haelena had told her there was some fresh cotton towels in the airing cupboard outside of her room. The thing Haelena had failed to mention was that they were on the top shelf, even on her tip toes she had no chance. As she rested her neck back on her shoulders looking up at the fabric she almost debated trying to scale the side of the cupboard, that was until the door at the other end of the landing opened, catching her attention.

Without saying a word Aemond walked out of his room, in nothing but a pair of gym shorts. His toned torso was only made all the more graceful by his pale complexion. She had noticed how tall and broad he was but underneath all the layers he wore she hadn’t seen any sign of his abs or larger muscular arms. He walked right up to her and leant up over her, grabbing a thick towel of the shelf and holding it out to her. A mix of cologne and shower gel radiated off his skin into her nose, the smell so heavenly she almost rolled her eyes back. She hadn’t realised how obvious she had been staring until Aemond cleared his throat, snapping her out of her daze and bringing a hot deep blush onto her cheeks.

‘Thanks’ she mumbled quietly, rushing back into her room and shutting the door in embarrassment and missing this little smirk that pulled at Aemond’s mouth.

The hot shower did nothing to flush the feeling of humiliation from her body, she may as well have been drooling over him. Just because he had a nice body did not make him any less of an asshole. Hair washed and body scrubbed Dahlia left the steam filled en-suite and sat on her bed platting her unbrushed locks, playing the words Alicent had said to her over and over. There was a job here if she wanted it, was she being serious when she had said that or was she just filling her head with hope to be ‘nice’? Dahlia had dreamed of a life where she could live and work on a farm, somewhere she could care for the animals and make a difference. She wanted it so badly; she deserved it after all of the hard work she had put in but she dare not let herself believe that it could be that easy for her. Nothing was ever that easy. She could still imagine though, she climbed under the covers and played that life out in her head, how it would feel to wake up here every morning. After drifting off with that wonderful scene in her head it was almost like a dream walking up.

Not wanting to risk getting lost in a new area Dahlia had passed on her morning run the day before but after three homemade meals already she felt she needed it. Alicent’s cooking had her waddling from the table every time, she wasn’t used to eating so well, usually settling for microwave meals or ordering from the takeaway diner that was on the corner opposite her dorm building. She had been almost giddy to slip on her running shoes and large hoodie before leaving the front door and starting off on a slow-paced walk for her warmup. She took a right off the Ranch and figured she would do a loop at whatever junctions she came across, helping Aegon and Haelena out in the fields the day before had helped her navigate the surrounding fields a little easier.

The fresh country air was just the wake up call she needed, the cool breeze and the sounds of nature almost cleansed her. Dahlia’s mind wandered through many things on her morning runs, from what brand of steel toe cap wellies could take the weigh of a cows hoof the best, to what the first home made meal was going to be when she got her own house. Today however her mind was packed with images of Aemond walking down that hallway towards her, topless and toned. How his muscles moved with every step he took towards her, how his long her had hung over his shoulders resting against his chest. She wondered what his chest would feel like under her hands, on her back… against her lips.

Shaking her head she cleared her mind, she couldn’t think of him like that, he was her best friend’s brother. He was off limits to her and her train of thought, him and his stupidly perfect body. Dahlia winced a little looking down her running shoes that were now covered in mud where they had once been pristine white.

She passed fields full with cows and sheep and some even just packed with hay. A few stray rabbits ran across the road a few feet in front of her and she even saw a small fox heading back to its burrow, it was like being in a fairy tale with nature all around her. Dahlia never wanted to leave; she could happily spend the rest of her life on that farm. Before she knew it Dahlia was walking past a familiar field back towards the entrance of Dragonstone ranch, the sun almost fully of the horizon now. As she passed the field a small cry caught her ear, Dahlia stopped and listened for it again. She followed it over to the other side of the road and there stuck in the small trench between the road and the field was a small calf. The cow looked up at her and cried again for help, it’s mother stood not far mooing at her too, Dahlia knew she had no chance of moving the poor thing by herself and she was going to need some help so off she took on a jog again back towards the farm. Running through the entrance and towards the stable, straight to the only person she knew would be awake.

Aemond was gently brushing over a large black stallion when she walked into the door, breathing heavily from her fast-paced pursuit of him.

‘Hey… I need your help… there’s… there’s a calf stuck’ She struggled to get out with her heavy breathing.

Aemond just looked at her like she was a crazy person, her hair all frizzy and fraying out of her braids, her chest heaving and her feet all muddy.

‘I’ll show you’ she resorted to after a moment of silence.

Not sure of whether he would follow her or not she walked out of the barn and back towards the entrance of the field. Happy to see that he was trailing behind her, Dahlia led him over the grass and past the herd of cows that had grouped together grazing at the far fence. She heard him grumble something as he avoids a cow pat and she chuckled a little looking back at him.

‘Why don’t you like cows? They’re so gentle’ she smiles over her shoulder at him, trying to lighten the heavy mood between them.

‘They are useless shit stinking holes’ he replied disregarding her attempt at some light conversation.

Dahlia stopped at the edge of the field right where the barbed wire fence had split and allowed the cow to get stuck. Aemond looked over at the animal and shook his head.

‘Example A’ he huffed

‘We need to lift her out I can grab the back an-‘ Dahlia began  as she rolled up her sleeve, ready to jump down into the ditch.

‘We’re not gonna be able to lift her she’ll be to heavy’ Aemond sighed, turning on his feet and beginning back across the grass.

‘So what? We just leave her down there?!’ Dahlia asked, shocked that he was so dismissive of the situation.

‘Yeah for my lazy ass brother to deal with’ he yelled back over his shoulder.

‘We can’t just leave her Aemond’

‘Hey I deal with the horses okay! Aegon handles this shit’ Aemond turned abruptly, emphasizing his words by pointing at the calf aggressively.

‘I am getting this calf back up to its mother with or without your help! And it would be a hell of a lot easier with’ Dahlia shouted back angrily, sitting herself on the ledge of earth and jumping down next to the calf.

She tried to sooth the frightened animal next to her with a gentle hand on it’s back. For a moment she had thought Aemond had actually walked away and left her to handle it on her own. Her blood boiled at how thoughtless he was being, how he would happily leave this poor baby alone and scared crying for its mother.

‘Sshh it’s okay, I’m gonna get you back up there little one’ Dahlia soothed her.

At the sound of her gentle voice Aemond stopped in his tracks of walking away from her, huffing he threw his head back onto his shoulders and looked up at the cloudy sky. She was incredibly annoying and irritating but if he didn’t go back over there and help her with this stupid cow, he would never hear the end of it. Sighing heavily Aemond turned himself around and jumped down next to her in the trench, ignoring the face splitting grin she offered him.

‘You can grab its ass, if it’s gonna shit on anyone it’s not gonna be me’ he growled.

Aemond wrapped his arms underneath the calf and watched Dahlia do the same on the other side towards the back of the calf. On his count of three they both lifted the shockingly heavy animal, Aemond using all his upper body strength to lift its front end higher until it had its front hooves planted on the grass. The calf took off running across the grass towards its mother, its hind leg kicking out and catching Dahlia in the chest. She grimaced heavily trying her hardest to not let Aemond see, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of thinking he might have been right. It was to no avail however, Aemond had lifted himself out of the ditch and leant down offering her his left hand, she had no choice but to give him hers and left him help her out. The pull of his arm on hers made her wince heavily and let out a little cry, Dahlia ignored Aemond’s worried look when she was safely on her feet. Her hand moved to hold her collarbone as it burnt with pain.

Aemond moved her hand and gently pulled her hoodie down enough for him to look down at the already forming bruise on her chest. His eyes shot to hers and Dahlia darted hers away from him.

‘I told you we should have waited!’ he grumbled at her letting go of her hoodie.

‘I’m fine’ she huffed back looking over at the calf.

‘It could have broken your collarbone!’ Aemond raised his voice slightly.

‘Yeah but look at how happy they are now!’ Dahlia disarmed him completely giving him a small smile and nodding over at where the young calf was nuzzling against its mother.

Aemond huffed and began walking away from her, Dahlia chuckled and followed him, loving how much she got to him. Aemond complained about the state of their clothes now that they were covered in mud and how he was going to kill Aegon for being a lazy prick and sleeping in. Dahlia let him grumble to himself as he plodded back towards the stables, she slipped off her shoes and left them outside the doors to the kitchen not wanting to trapse mud into the house.

Once Dahlia had changed and brushed out her hair she returned back downstairs, heading into the kitchen with her dirty clothes in hand. Haelena and Alicent were stood making breakfast for everyone, Jace, Luke and their girlfriends sat around that table, all still looking groggy from sleep.

‘Hey, how you feeling this morning?’ Haelena smiled, noticing the presence of her best friend.

‘Good! Erm is it okay if I use the washing machine?’ she asked politely.

‘Of course, it’s just through there with the dryer’ Alicent directed her, flipping the bacon over in the frying pan.

Dahlia moved into the laundry room and threw her muddy clothes into the machine with a washing pod and shut the door. As she was setting the machine, she heard the kitchen doors slide open and Aemond’s voice sounding through the room.

‘Where’s Aegon?’ he questioned.

‘He’s getting dressed to go to the wholesalers for me… what the hell happened to you?’ Alicent asked slightly shocked at his muddy appearance.

‘Ask genius here’ he griped as Dahlia appeared at his side from the laundry room.

They all looked at her in question to which Dahlia gave an awkward smile and moved to sit at the table.

‘There was a calf stuck in one of the trenches by the junction so I asked Aemond for help lifting it out’ she informed them nonchalantly.

‘You lifted a cow?!’ Luke asked stunned.

‘It was a baby’ she protested.

‘A baby that almost broke your collar bone! Take them for the pain’ Aemond added, tossing a small bottle of pain killers at her.

‘What?!’ Haelena asked panicked, immediately dropped the serving spoon she had hold of and moving over to inspect her best friend.

‘Hel I’m fine it’s a little bruise’ Dahlia dismissed her, waving her off.

‘What happened?’ Alicent questioned concerned.

‘Little twat kicked out when we lifted it and caught her in the chest’ Aemond informed his mother before exiting the room and heading up the stairs.

Dahlia threw him a look of annoyance on his way out as she had Haelena and Alicent trying to inspect the dark growing bruise on her chest.

#prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #hotd fandom #aemond the kinslayer #hotd fanfic #house targaryen #house of the dragon

[out-of-control]

TONIGHT

PREV: RED

NEXT: BOUND

words: 1911

warnings: sex

summary: jax makes an inquiry about a late-night delivery.

With one hand down his waistband, Jax thinks about a few things.

He's fully clothed still, supine on top of the bedsheets. His boot heels hang off the edge of the bed; his cell phone lies discarded on the nightstand. The apartment is empty and Jax is thinking about how Jim's fingertips are tough from years of playing bass. He's thinking about Jim's fingers warped around a fretboard, about how funny it is that when you have to cling to something to survive, it clings right back to you, in a way. About dead skin cells in layers upon layers. And about how things can so quickly go from soft to hard. 

His hand quickens, and his teeth clamp together on the inside of his lip. He extends and contracts his muscles, undulating alone on top of the bed. And at the last possible second he stills his body entirely. 

He feels his breaths, forcing his ribcage up and down like the handle of a bicycle pump, but he doesn't hear them so well. For a few seconds, he just lies there, allowing the air to cycle through his lungs. 

And then he lunges for the nightstand. 

He has the number on speed dial, because he's a stupid piece of work who should probably be put down for his own good. “Hey,” Jim’s voice floats through the tinny speaker, “What’s up.” Jax doesn't know where Jim is right now, and he doesn't care.

"Hey," he rasps, hand still down his pants. "I hope you're not busy, because I really can't act cool about this right now–" his fingers twitch almost involuntarily; he holds in a groan and goes on "–so I'm just gonna ask. Can you come over." He takes a deep breath in and holds it there, just long enough to start to feel it burn, and then he exhales it all at once and breathes, "Can you come over and fuck me tonight."

–

In the twenty-three minutes between hanging up and Jim's arrival, Jax occupies himself.

First, he takes a minute to lie still on the bed after clicking his phone shut. His hand slides out from inside his pants and very briefly slips under his shirt to toy with a nipple ring. Just briefly. And then he rolls off the bed. In the bathroom, he washes his hands, then his face, and spends a little while trying to slick his hair back with water; it only makes him look bedraggled, and so he gives up and scrubs his head dry with a bath towel. He leaves the bathroom for the kitchen, checking the fridge to make sure he has at least two beers in there already. He finds he has five and closes the fridge door. Then he opens it again and removes one of the bottles. A few more minutes are whiled away by rooting through the drawers for a bottle opener. He brings the now-opened beer with him to the couch: an anemic, floral thing which he had liberated from the sidewalk about a year ago, not long after having shuffled all his worldly positions into the current apartment. A few applications of baking soda had banished the curb smell but left powder in the cushions for weeks. Whenever Anna visited back then, she'd insisted on sitting on top of her purse. Tonight, leaning back against the ratty, pilling fabric, Jax takes a drink from his beer. Then he takes another. And he waits.

When the buzzer goes off, Jax scrambles to push the front door button, preemptively unlocks the apartment door, hurries back to the couch, and spends several seconds, if not an entire minute, carefully arranging himself on the cushions so as to most effectively convey an air of highly attractive nonchalance. He then immediately ruins it all by reflexively jumping up and rushing over to throw open the door as soon as he hears a knock.

"You're here," Jax breathes, inanely. 

“I’m here,” Jim agrees, sounding a little cautious– probably a response to how incredibly fucking normal Jax is being right now. The desperate energy that had compelled Jax to pick up the phone in the first place seems to abandon him as soon as Jim steps over the threshold, and Jax finds himself awkwardly sitting next to Jim on the floral couch after supplying him with one of the beers from the fridge, not sure exactly how to proceed. He'd already asked his big question; isn't the ball in Jim's court now? Jax is pretty sure it is, but you wouldn't know that from looking at Jim. Fucker's scrutinizing the label on the beer bottle like an art historian attempting to authenticate a possible Bosch.

It turns out to have been a stupid fucking idea to have started in on his beer before Jim arrived, because Jax finishes it about two minutes after Jim opens his, and then finds himself sitting there on the couch with his legs crossed, feeling like a bit of a fucking creeper watching Jim drink and not saying anything, and he knows he could just get up and grab another beer and ordinarily he really, really just would, but there's something about the energy Jim is giving off right now that seems to penetrate Jax's skin and worm through his nervous system and keep him rooted right to his spot on the couch cushion. That same vibe also seems to be preventing Jax from jumping Jim's bones right now, no matter how bad he wants to (very bad). Something– some kind of primordial sexual instinct, maybe– is simply telling him to stay put.

Either unaware of Jax's turmoil or incredibly, exceedingly aware of it, Jim hefts the bottle in his hand, again closely inspecting the label. A garden of earthly delights, alright. He turns the bottle, tilts it, then brings it up to his lips. Slowly, agonizingly, he sticks his tongue out and runs it up the neck of the bottle, leaving a trail in the condensation, before casually taking a swig.

Definitely aware. Incredibly, exceedingly aware. 

A few more minutes pass. It feels like forever. Casually, Jim sets his beer down on the floor, and Jax feels his stomach clench. There's a beat, before Jim simply leans over and breathes against Jax's jaw. Jax's eyes fall closed, almost as if in order for him to better feel Jim's hot breath on the side of his face, he needs to turn off his vision. Jim's soft puffs of breath move lower, to Jax's neck, and then Jim's lips replace them. A palm slides slowly up the inside of Jax's thigh. 

Right when Jim's hand meets Jax's bulge, Jax exhales and blurts, "Finally," while battling the strangest sensation of his throat trying to strangle itself.

Jim freezes. Completely stills all motion. 

Distraught by the turn of events, Jax forgets about his pride. "Christ, Jim, come on, please," he whines, trying to rock his hips up a little into Jim's hand. 

Jim says nothing. But Jax feels him smile against his skin.

Jax brings a hand up and fumbles at Jim's shirt, grasping the fabric ineffectually. "Please, man, c'mon," he begs, as his breathing gets heavier and his face hotter.

Jim still doesn't move. Not acceptable.

Jax discards a shred of pride that he didn't know he still had, something thin and ragged at the dusty bottom of a drawer squirreled away in the back of his skull. Into the heady silence between them, Jax confesses, quietly. "Come on, man. I stopped myself from getting off just so you could make me come instead.”

For one long moment, it's nothing but Jim's breath on the side of Jax’s neck.

“Were you thinking about me,” Jim asks in a low voice, breaking his vow of silence. “Were you thinking about me touching you.” It doesn't sound quite like a question. Jax thinks this is because Jim knows the answer. He parts his lips anyway.

“Yeah," Jax says, and even to his own ears, his voice sounds wrecked. 

So fast Jax can barely process it, Jim is in Jax’s lap, pulling Jax's shirt over his head. Jim's mouth connects with his, Jim's hips grind against his, and Jax thinks faintly that Jim might actually be trying to eat him alive. 

One of Jim's hands finds its way into Jax's waistband, and he whines openly at the touch, at finally feeling Jim's hand, which is so, so much better than Jax's own, no matter how hard he fantasizes. After only a couple strokes, Jim undoes his own belt, shoving Jax's jeans down, until their cocks are rubbing against each other in Jim's hand, and Jax can't seem to do much more than dig his nails into Jim's thighs, pushing his tiny embarrassing noises into Jim's mouth.

Jax gets shoved down, flat onto the couch cushions, and then Jim's shirt is gone. He starts leaving bite marks all over Jax's skin, from his neck all the way down to his hip bones, and then Jax is naked on his ugly floral couch, Jim positioned between his legs with one knee supporting him from the floor. Jax feels lightheaded with the knowledge that he’s going to be marked up for days after this– so obvious, so undeniable, practically an autograph. Jim's teeth sink into Jax's thigh and he gasps, arching his back and fisting a hand in Jim's hair.

Jim lets go and wetly kisses the indentation; the switch from sharp and jagged to gentle and soft is so sudden it makes Jax's head spin. Jim licks a stripe up Jax's cock before taking him in his mouth, slowly bobbing his head up and down with his eyes shut, and Jax just can't understand how serene Jim can look while tearing Jax apart like this, atom by atom by atom. Jax hooks a leg around Jim's back and pants hard, watching Jim's hand where it's splayed across Jax's chest, the two rising and falling in sync, and at some point he can't seem to remember, his gasps started sounding a whole lot like Jim, Jim, Jim.

He feels Jim's hip graze back and forth against his shin, realizes that Jim is rubbing himself against the couch cushions as he sucks Jax's brain out through the tip of his dick, and maybe it's that realization which can be blamed for finally shoving Jax over the edge. He clutches Jim's hair hard as he jerks and shivers on the couch. 

Through his eyelashes, Jax watches Jim pull off, wipe his mouth across the back of his hand. His hair is all in his face, blocking his eyes; Jax wants to reach out and brush it aside but his arms feel too heavy, all shaky and weak from tensing them so hard. Jim’s face is flushed, his nose pink where it peeks out from all the hair. The lull doesn’t last more than a few seconds; Jim is scrambling up his body, knees digging into the couch cushions on either side of Jax’s neck. Jax watches Jim’s thumb and forefinger above him, grasping the tab of his zipper and dragging it down the rest of the way with a high-pitched buzz that may as well be a dog whistle for how well Jax has been trained to respond to it. Jim’s hand fastens in Jax’s hair. Jax dutifully drops his jaw open, curls his hands around Jim’s thighs, and lets Jim keep on calling the shots tonight. 

#words

[fandom-smut-shots]

Striker x Reader - Picking Up Trash and Calling It Treasure 6

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

What would y'all like to see happen? I've got some ideas further down the line, but I'm gonna get stuck getting there. I wrote the intro to this chapter and then let it sit for a few days because I had no idea what to do with it.

         A hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back until your horns tore open the seams of the pillow beneath you. Hips snapped against yours, pulling the coil inside your abdomen tighter and tighter. Your legs hooked around Striker’s hips, pushing his length further inside you and drawing a long moan from your throat. Your claws raked down his back, leaving angry red lines in their wake, and he growled in your ear. His tail intertwined with yours, squeezing as you both drew closer to your climaxes.

         Using your tilted head to his advantage, Striker ducked his own, his teeth grazing over your neck. He bit down at the exposed skin, sucking a mark beneath your jaw, and you whimpered loudly. You slid one hand into his snowy locks, grasping it tightly between your fingers.

         “Cum for me, darlin’,” he growled in your ear, and a shudder wracked your body-

           Your lips parted to inhale a gasp as you bolted upright in your bed, sweat coating your back and legs. Your heart pounded against your chest and your breath came in heavy pants. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, fingers grasping your sweat-soaked bedsheets. You slowly slid out of bed, stumbling across the floor of your room in the direction of the bathroom. One hand reached out to flick on the light switch as you padded towards the shower, turning on the cold water before stripping out of your pajamas.

         A sigh of relief tumbled from your lips once you stepped into the cooling stream, allowing it to swirl that lustful dream down the drain alongside your sweat. You gave yourself a quick scrub with your body wash before rinsing and turning off the water, exiting the shower and wrapping yourself in a towel. Not bothering to redress, you returned to your bedroom and sat on your bed, glancing at the clock on your nightstand.

         3:04 A.M.

         Fantastic.

           Sleep evaded you for the rest of the early morning, until the red sun had ascended and what passed for daylight in Hell illuminated the sky. Your exhausted weighed on the back of your mind, but you had the day off from work, so you spent your time lounging around your house. As the hours progressed, the liveliness of the outside world kept you awake.

         As you began brewing yet another pot of coffee, you padded over to the fridge, pulling open the door to peer inside and its contents. A frown formed on your lips upon discovering that you were low on supplies – an influx of assignments at work had left you little time to cook at home, much less do any grocery shopping.

         Fuck. That meant you’d have to go today. Try as you might, nothing you had accomplished thus far had completely blocked last night’s dream from your mind. It still creeped into your conscious brain, sending tingles down your body and between your legs when you lost focus and let yourself linger on how unnervingly real everything had felt.

         You really didn’t want to go out in public.

         But you also didn’t want to starve. So, lesser of two evils.

         Recalling your last encounter with Striker, you opted for an extra layer of clothing as you dressed yourself. You didn’t know how much time your ex had given him to complete his assassination, but you weren’t going to take any chances. Striker had been evidently hesitant regarding your execution, and surprisingly comforting upon learning your tragic history, which had probably fueled your subconscious into whipping up that horridly lustful imagery last night. But you couldn’t think too deeply about that, nor did you want to. You and Striker weren’t friends. You weren’t even fuck buddies. You’d gone on one (admittedly wonderful) date, and he’d hesitated on killing you despite the hefty sum he’d been offered to do so.

         You were… acquaintances?

         Regardless. Disguise. Focus, (y/n).

         A pair of jeans that had been stuffed into the back of your drawer and hardly ever worn. Plain sneakers that you’d bought for the rare occasion that you’d actually employ your human disguise. An oversized sweater that hid the shape of your body exceptionally well – too hot for Hell’s daily weather, but you’d have to suffer for the sake of ensuring that no one else had been assigned a hit on your head. And finally, twisting your hair up and slipping a beanie over your head, one that had been specially made to cover your horns should anyone recognize you from them alone.

         Time to go shopping.

           The grocery store you frequented was in walking distance, and you didn’t anticipate buying more than you could carry on your own, so you opted for a stroll through Hell in hopes of clearing your mind.

         You made it approximately halfway to your desired location before you were abruptly slammed up against the backside of an abandoned building. The air was ripped from your lungs upon contact, and a strong hand squeezed slowly around your throat. Your own hands desperately pried at the fingers digging into your flesh, but your attacker proved stronger than you despite your years of working for I.M.P.

         Tears bubbled in the corners of your eyes, but you refused to grant your assailant the pleasure of watching them drip down your cheeks. You narrowed them with the harshest glare you could manage, but all you received for your troubles was a cocky chuckle.

         A disturbingly familiar cocky chuckle.

         Opening your eyes wider, you watched as your aggressor pulled the sunglasses from his face and the hat from his head, revealing the one imp you’d hoped you’d never see again.

         Calcifer.

         “Look at you, struggling against me,” he chortled darkly. “Fucking pathetic, just like always.”

         All you could manage in response was a gasp, still struggling against his hold, your feet kicking as you tried to press away from the wall.

         “What the fuck are you still doing alive?” he demanded with a low growl, bringing his face uncomfortably close to yours. “I paid that stupid hillbilly twenty grand to put your ass in the ground.”

         Had you not been slowly losing consciousness due to your lack of oxygen, the specific number your head was worth would have startled you. Twenty grand? And Striker had just… let you go? No, more than that… He’d held you. He’d held you in a way that none of your exes ever had.

         Oh, now was not the time to get into your feelings. Fuck, the edges of your vision were going dark.

         Calcifer sighed before you, his eyes glazed over with disinterest. “I guess I’ll have to do it myself. Save the money for something better.”

         “Wh-why?” you choked, blinking rapidly as though that would help anything.

         A grin split his lips. “Because I fucking can, (y/n). That’s the only reason, really. I wanted you dead just because I have the financial means to make it happen now, without getting my hands dirty or pissing off my folks.”

         A cough sprouted from your throat as you air supply quickly drained, and you were just about to give in to the sweet beckoning of the darkness when a gunshot echoed around you. Calcifer’s grip slackened, and you both fell to the ground. Your hands gingerly caressed your throat as you coughed and spat and inhaled as deeply as physically possible. Boots thumped against the ground, stepping closer to you and your unconscious ex, but you could only focus on the pool of blood seeping out from the bullet hole in his back. Calcifer lied completely immobile on the concrete, not a twitch of a breath left in his body, and a rush of emotions flooded your chest. Too many things had happened at once, and you allowed yourself to be pulled to your feet by two strong but gentle hands on your upper arms, held steady by whoever had shot Calcifer through the back.

         As you regained control of your breathing, you turned to face your savior, ready to word vomit your appreciation. But a familiar set of yellow-and-green-ringed eyes stopped you in your tracks, and you gasped loudly before taking a step back.

         “Striker?” you greeted hesitantly. “What… How… What the fuck?”

         He shrugged. “Looked like you were in trouble, darlin’.”

         “You killed him,” you stated, your gaze drifting back to the imp on the ground.

         “What, did you not want him dead?”

         “No, I did, I just…” You turned your attention back to the cowboy. “He offered you twenty grand to take me out?”

         “Yep,” Striker confirmed with a nod.

         “And you killed him instead?”

         Another nod.

         “Make it make sense, cowboy,” you sighed, running a hand over your face. “You accepted a job for twenty grand, but when you found out it was me you… I don’t know, you acted like you wanted to forfeit. Then you see me getting attacked and you kill the jackass that hired you to kill me.” You shrugged, opening your mouth to say more but coming up empty. You settled for chewing on your lip, crossing your arms bashfully as you looked at the assassin.

         He leveled you with an unreadable expression. His brows were tight, though his eyes were relaxed. He stood firm, confident, but his hands were balled into fists, and you could see his jaw twitch with a habitual need to be chewing on a straw of wheat.

         “Go out with me tonight,” he replied, and your jaw dropped as you tried to fathom how that was at all a response to anything you’d said.

         “What?”

         “You heard me,” Striker stated. “Go out with me tonight. I’ll pick you up. Then I’ll explain everything as best I can.”

         “I…” What did you have to lose? After the dream you’d had, you could hardly continue lying to yourself about your feelings for the cowboy. That combined with how he’d comforted you and now how he’d defended you…

         “Okay,” was what you settled on. “Pick me up at seven.”

         He offered you a grin, gold tooth glimmering in the sunlight. He tipped his hat to you before sauntering down the sidewalk, whistling to himself, and it was only the grumble of your stomach that kept you trekking on towards the grocery store instead of turning tail and running home.

#helluva boss #helluva boss striker #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #striker #striker x reader

[vldlance]

juno dearest i saw someone send you an ask about skincare so i wanted to join in..

what should i do/use to exfoliate.... i use a scrub gell at the moment but it isn't doing enough

cece dearest! this is a great question bc i feel like exfoliation is one of the most misunderstood steps in skincare. so i’m just gonna go through a few tips before i get to products!

1) you don’t need to exfoliate as much as you probably think! i think that exfoliating feels like the thing that will Scrub Away acne…it’s possible as humans it just feels good to rlly scrub at something to “fix” it. but you’re probably doing more harm than good if you exfoliate a lot! once or twice a week MAX is the best idea for most people.

2) if you’re seeing a lot of dead/flaky skin on your face frequently, it’s probably a moisture issue rather than a need for more exfoliation!! try the moisturizer i mentioned before, or add a hyaluronic acid serum (i like the one from the ordinary) to help this.

3) sugar scrubs, scrub gels, and exfoliating pads are…at best outdated forms of exfoliation. they tend to be overly harsh and abrasive, and they can do more harm than good! i prefer chemical exfoliation, which is gentler on the skin (even tho it sounds…rlly aggressive). i do love a sugar scrub for body exfoliation tho, where the skin is thicker and less fragile.

with that said, my go-to exfoliating product is the ordinary’s AHA 30% + BHA 2% Exfoliating Peeling Solution. this is a chemical exfoliator that you just put a thin layer of on your face (avoiding eyes, mouth, and any open sores or acne spots!!!!!!) and leave for a maximum of 12 minutes.

some tips in using this product:

do NOT use this product without using sunscreen. aha’s and bha’s, like many skincare products, can make your skin more sun sensitive. if you use this, you must wear sunscreen every day (though you should always do this anyways)

this product will probably have an uncomfortable tingle while using. that’s okay and normal! however if it is Bad pain, wash it off immediately. for best safety practices, do a patch test of the product on your wrist before using it to make sure you don’t have a bad reaction.

do not use this product Anywhere that skin is broken. it will hurt like a fucking bitch and it is not good for you

listen when i say only leave it on for 12 minutes max. i usually can only stand 9 or 10 before the tingle bugs me

start by using it once a week, then Maybe move to two eventually, if it feels necessary. you’ll help train your skin to handle it

here is a picture as usual!

also, reminder (for ppl besides u cece lmao) that i am not a doctor. this is advice based on my own experiences and knowledge as a semi-skincare hobbyist, NOT general guidelines for every person ever lmao

#ty for asking i love this song #juno.txt #skincare advice

[thedarknesssings]

Prompt 23: Sticky Situation

Prompt 23: Pitch - FFXIV Write 2022 Characters:  Mist and a friendly woodwailer.  Mention of Fianylas @dark-revelries​

A black substance stretched a short way with his fingers before stringing and snapping apart.  Bits of tree bark clung to the substance along with his skin, some pine needles, dirt, a piece of his hair.  There were bits clinging to his clothes, his face, the tip of his ear.  

“What is this stuff?”  Mist’s eyes rose up to the face of the woodwailer trying to help pick the crap out of his hair.  A futile effort, but an effort all the same.

“Bit of resin from the trees around her.  Those evergreens you were playing in there are known for it.  Forms between the layers of bark and seeps out to snag unsuspecting folks like you.”  The gentle explanation came with an apologetic smile.  “Folks call it pitch, mostly since you end up having to pitch out whatever you were wearing.”

The humour in the words and that grin on the woodwailers face went right over Mist’s head.  He blinked a few times, lips popping apart on a concerned whine.  “No, no.  We can get it out, right?”

He stuck the sticky hand on the woodwailer’s arm.  A protest rose and died on the elezen’s lips when he noted how stricken the miqo’te looked.  He patted Mist’s shoulder, his voice taking on a soothing pitch.  “There, there.  Just a bit of cloth.  You look like I asked you to toss out your best friend.”

Mist shook his head, the clump of stuck hair and tree bits thumping against his shoulder.  The woodwailer had given up on trying to separate the things.  “But it’s on me!  I don’t want to be thrown out!  I just got here.”

The woodwailer bit into his lip, trying to hard to stifle the laughter bubbling up his throat.  He couldn’t.  The laughter spilled out and he slid his hunting knife from its sheath.  “Promise I won’t throw you out of the Woods.  But I’m afraid we are gonna have to cut this clump out.  Rest of you we’ll toss in the river there.  Might stick for a few days, but eventually it’ll scrub off your skin.”

His gaze drifted suspiciously over toward the burbling river and Mist slowly nodded his head.  “Water will stop it?”

“Eh, sort of.  Won’t get it off your clothes or hair, but eventually the pitch’ll just kinda lose its stick and ball up when you scrub at it.” The woodwailer said, the knife gently sawing through strands of hair.  He furrowed his brow when the lock started to become wet and slippery.  Weird.

“Oh, huh.”  His gaze lowered to the pair of fingers once again stuck to one another.  “I hope Fian never learns of this stuff.  It’s diabolical.”

#FFxivWrite2022 #writers on tumblr #ffxiv writers #short story #vignette #Mist #the adventures of a water fae #how Fian conquers the world #tree pitch

[dollslayer]

Homecoming

Biker!Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Finally home after being gone on a run, you give Bucky the welcome he deserves

W/C: 1.5k

Warnings: Housewife kink, unprotected sex, swearing, NO MINORS

A/N: Hey guys, I know it's been a minute sorry😅 Got the idea for this and couldn't get it outta my head. Hopefully you guys like it! If you do please comment/reblog!!! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

Outside the kitchen window the sun was disappearing behind the trees in the backyard, signaling the end of another day. You sighed, noticing the streaks in the glass and made a mental note to clean it before getting back to the task at hand. Dinner was still a few hours away from being finished but in the meantime it was the distraction you needed, even if you’d be eating alone.

It had been almost two entire weeks since Bucky rode off on a run with Sam and Steve with no word since. Last week you’d missed him so much but after one beep of the disconnected dial tone on the other end of the line you knew that Bucky had to have ditched his burner.

You didn’t know where he was or when he’d be back or even any way to reach him. You knew better than to ask anyone else from the club, though. Whatever the club did was their business and you were smart enough to stay out of it.

After this long of being in Bucky’s life you’d think that you would be used to the inconsistency but it’s hard to settle into anything knowing he could be gone at a moment’s notice. The love you two had made it worth it though, and secretly you loved how tough and grumpy he was for everyone else but was always so sweet and loving to you. Still, times like this where you’d be left alone for days or weeks at a time the loneliness was inevitable.

All the free time you normally had for Bucky was suddenly empty so you filled the void cooking and cleaning to distract yourself. At this point your fridge was filled to the brim with leftovers and if you tried to scrub the bathroom tiles again they might just come off. You just wanted everything to be nice for him whenever he did come home. You knew he appreciated it, if the last time he’d cornered you doing laundry was anything to go by.

You were pulling the pan out of the oven when you heard the familiar rumble of engines growing louder down the road. You nearly dropped the food out of excitement before you hastily set it on the counter. You checked your reflection in the hall mirror, wishing you’d have been wearing something a little nicer than some cotton shorts and a tank top.

You listened to the voices shouting over idling engines and eventually rev up again before retreating back down the road. You were teeming with excitement and nervousness as you undid the deadbolts and waited to hear his boots bounding up the creaky steps of the front porch.

The door swung open and you stepped back, biting your lip to contain your grin when you finally got a good look at him. He let out a soft ‘oof’ followed by a chuckle when you launched yourself into his arms and inhaled the comforting scent of grease and leather.

“Hi, Peach”

You returned a ‘missed you’, muffled by the layers of his jacket. He kissed your shoulder when you buried your face into his neck. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, allowing yourselves to revel in the feeling of relief. His hands pulled you away only to bring you into a deep but soft kiss that you couldn’t help but melt into.

When you broke away you took a step back to get a proper look at him. His jacket was dusty and his boots were caked in mud, trailing all over your freshly mopped foyer but you didn’t care, you were just happy he was here, he was okay.

His grin was wide and uncontrollable when he looked back at you and took in your appearance. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose.

“Smells amazing”

“I’ve got dinner waiting for you if you take off your boots” you say as you help to pull him out of his leather.

When he finally stepped into the kitchen and living area he looked around slowly, taking in all of the work you’d done while he was away.

“You been hard at work while I was gone, huh, Peach?”

You smiled shyly, dipping your head at him and turned away towards the kitchen to set out some plates on the counter. Your movements stopped when you felt the scrape of Bucky’s stubble against your neck.

His hands snaked around your midsection and he pulled you back into him, pressing your ass right into his hard cock. You gasped in surprise and he smiled into your skin as he continued to kiss it. You ground harder against him and he let out a low groan into your ear.

“You always keep everythin’ so nice for me, huh? Always takin’ care of me even when I’m not there,” his grip on your hips falters only so he can toy with the waistband of your shorts.

“You’re so sweet, Peach”

He hooks his fingers around the elastic and as he slides the shorts down your legs your movements stop.

“What about din-”

“Let me take care of you, Peach,” he insisted.

You squirmed as pressed his hips to your ass, forcing you to brace your hands on the counter to stay up right.

Where you had cursed yourself earlier for not wearing something nicer than lounge shorts you were grateful now as he curled his fingers around the top and ripped them down in one motion. Your shorts and panties fall past your knees and pool around your ankles and you struggled to hold yourself up. Calloused fingers run over the soft curves of your ass before delivering a sharp smack that has you gasping in surprise.

You felt the outline of his hard cock through his jeans and weren’t sure how much longer you could wait for him to cut to the chase. You ground back against him in hopes he’d get the message.

He chuckled in response and smacked your ass again before he took a step back to undo his pants. You whined at the loss of his warmth behind you and waited. The sound of the heavy fabric hitting the ground and then being kicked away was the only notice he gave you before a hand met your back and swiftly bent you further over the counter.

Your palms squeaked against the formica and your elbows landed harshly against it. With one hand on your hip Bucky used his other to run his tip over your wet folds. Normally he’d take more time with you but you were both too impatient to be with each other again and the excitement of his touch left you plenty wet and wanting.

He pushed fully into you in one go and shuddered out a groan at the feeling. It had been so long since he’d been inside of you that could hardly adjust to the impact. You didn’t care though, you just wanted him to keep going.

A few small pumps of his hips to test the waters quickly became not enough.

“Buck,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?”

His thrusts picked up in speed and soon enough he was pounding into you. The sound of forgotten silverware and plates clattering against the counter were overpowered by skin slapping skin and the moans forced from your lungs.

His grip on your hips readjusted as he foisted you further over the counter, forcing you to try and balance on the tips of your toes. It had been so long for both of you, there was no way he could hold out much longer. There was no way you could either with the new angle hitting inside of you just right. You clamped down around him hoping he’d get the hint, you didn’t know that you’d be able to talk if you tried right now.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much,” his pace increased, “You missed me too, I can feel it, Peach.”

You nodded weakly but the motion was lost as you were jostled back and forth with his thrusts.

“You always take such good fuckin’ care a’ me, care a’ the house. So fuckin’ good, Peach”

“B-buck, please” the broken words left your lips and that was all that he needed to drive it home.

“Ah shit, shitshitshit ‘m gonna cum” he forced out between harsh pants.

The build of pressure against your G-spot was too much and you cried out as you came. Bucky roughly fucked you through it and with a few final slams he shouted as he spilled inside you.

He collapsed on top of you, caging you in with his arms on either side as he caught his breath. You shivered at the feeling of your cum mixing together and sliding slowly down your leg even as he stayed inside you. He kissed your shoulder and helped to pull you back to your feet.

You twisted around and pulled on a loose lock to bring his face to yours. You gave him one chaste kiss and broke apart.

“Welcome home”

He kissed the tip of your nose and slowly ran his hands up and down your arms.

“Good to be home, Peach”

#bucky barnes x reader #biker!bucky barnes x reader #biker au #marvel au #biker!bucky #biker!bucky barnes #marvel fic #marvel x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine

[filthforfriends]

Guide Me (Part 2)

Here is Part 1!

Thomas x fem reader

Word count: 6.1k

Summary: This one has it all. Plot, band dialogue, adorable Thomas, angst, tears, resolution, smut. So much smut.

“Hey, I miss you. We should hang out tonight.” Thomas held his iPhone to his ear, wishing there were straightforward directions for this situation.

“Um, yeah.” You tried to keep your voice from shaking because you really missed Thomas too. Already, being away from him caused a throbbing ache in your chest.

“I’m exhausted from writing today, so I won’t be very exciting, unfortunately. Maybe just a movie?” Thomas was trying his best to hint that he didn’t expect sex tonight. You could do just a movie.

“I’d love that, I really miss you too.” Today you’d realized that avoiding Thomas would end in a breakup. That made the pressure to tell him absolutely crushing, nevermind the self loathing at sabotaging the most beautiful thing in your life. “Where do you want to meet?”

“Wherever you’re comfortable.” Oh, Thomas. You needed to recall his gentle character more often. The pain of your self enforced isolation almost broke you. It was lonely to be in your own head.

“Why don’t you come over to mine?” Immediately after you said it, you regretted it. “Actually, I’ll meet you at yours...since you’re tired already.” And also because I can leave if I want to.

“Okay, okay.” There was a lilt in his voice you didn’t recognize, probably suspicious of you avoiding him. “I don’t really care which movie we watch.”

“Yeah, me neither,” you giggled. Everything was still so fresh and butterflies-inducing. “I’ll bring takeout, you spend half an hour stressing over what we’re gonna watch?”

“Deal,” Thomas chuckled in return. “I’ll be home by 7:30 tonight, so come over by eight?”

“Yeah sounds good,” you respond, knowing full well you’ll be there no later than 7:35 if you had a rare bout of self restraint.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” You’re grinning like a fool, to the point that it's audible.

“Cool.” You can hear Thomas’ smile as well.

“Cool. Bye?”

“Bye. See you tonight.” Thomas hung up the phone and turned to his bandmates. “See? I did the damn thing!”

“Yeah, with all the ease of climbing Mount Everest,” teased Victoria.

“It was a bit hard to watch,” nodded Ethan.

“Fuck you guys then.” Thomas huffed in annoyance as he slung his guitar strap over his head.

“Thomas, we’re just being dicks, you know we love you.” Victoria’s gravely voice was quickly followed by her nudging Thomas affectionately, while he adjusted his effect pedals. When he tried to ignore her, she just made herself more of a nuisance, nuzzling into his arm as he attempted work.

“Fine, fine,” he laughed, and the tension settled. “But, I’m not telling you guys shit tomorrow.” Thomas was met by an uproar of dissent.

“That’s like only giving us part one of a two part story!”

Thomas used you as an excuse to get out of the studio early. He bought new lube, new condoms, new sheets, then realized he didn’t have time to wash and dry them. Next he scrubbed his first layer of skin off in the shower, washed his hair, and shaved. To be extra careful, Thomas trimmed his nails all the way down and filled the sharp corners. He reapplied the aftershave, cologne, and deodorant then realized that he’d sprayed his body down in isopropyl alcohol based products and rinsed it all off again.

He got nervous before sex, sure, but Thomas had never prepared this thoroughly. Not that they were necessarily going to have sex, they were just gonna talk about it. Thomas was standing in his bedroom, fully naked, wondering if he should wear comfortable clothes or day clothes, when he heard your knock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, pulling on jeans and a tshirt. One foot got snagged under the other and his hands barely caught his weight before he hit the hardwood floor of the hallway. “Fuck! Shit!” He made it to the door in long strides and yanked it open.

***

“Hey, sorry I’m early!” You were actually right on time, but Thomas looked rushed and flustered. “I got Thai like last time!” Thomas’ face told you he’d forgotten you were bringing food. “But you don’t have to eat if you’re not hungry.”

“No, I totally am,” he insisted. You believed him, Thomas was like seven feet tall so he was always eating. Your eyes widened when you set the Thai down at what was already on the kitchen counter.

“Having company, later?” You gestured to the 18-pack of condoms and the bottle of lube. It was so moronic that you knew this wasn’t Thomas’ way of proportioning you.

“Hmm? Oh my god. No, no, sorry.” He’d gone white as a sheet and you tried not to snicker. Thomas was holding the offending objects, looking around frantically for where to put them. “I’m just gonna...um -” He bolted to the bedroom, and now you couldn’t help but laugh. Distantly, you could hear Thomas cursing in at least two languages. You opened the cupboard to get a plate and sighed.

“Babe, could you get plates for me? They’re on the top shelf and not everyones a giant.” Thomas shuffled back into the kitchen to help, looking hilariously bashful. “Hey, your hair is wet.” His dirty blond locks were brunette when wet. You’d seen it happen to the hair by his forehead and at the nape of his neck from sweat, but never after a shower. The color change created a greater contrast, bringing out his gorgeous round, green eyes. His Bambi eyes, as you called them.

“Damn it, I knew I forgot someth -”

“I like it,” you concluded and reached up to kiss him. It was your favorite way to halt his over-thinking. Thomas was able to form these meticulous trains of thought and complex ideas. Not just musically, but of course musically. He could see three distinctly different guitar parts in his mind and how they’d overlap, weaving a musical tapestry with the rest of the band. He’d trained his mind, but this ability to be intensely detail-oriented didn’t always translate well. He could be so totally preoccupied with one aspect of things that he’d neglect all others.

Like right now, he was still trying to finish his sentence, even as you kissed him. You put your hands on either side of his face, rolling up onto the balls of your feet. You ran your thumbs along his cheeks soothingly and he lost his train of thought, caving into the kiss. You hummed, pleased with yourself, balancing on the end of your shoe, arms flung around his neck. Thomas stooped down to wrap his arms around your lower back, lifting you up, almost off the ground.

The height difference was sexy in theory and a nuisance in practice. You didn’t usually kiss standing on even ground like this, for convenience’s sake. When Thomas French kissed you, the angle just made you feel like you were choking on his tongue. As you were plotting a height advantage, Thomas rearranged his hands to get a functional grip on your waist.

“Jump.” You pushed off the ground hard, as Thomas pulled you up his body. Of course being held like this was your favorite way to kiss. As long as you didn’t look down, it felt so safe. The grip you could hold Thomas in, legs wrapped around his waist, made it feel like no one could take him from you. Having your entire body twined around his was comforting, cathartic.

“Mm, you smell good, Tommy.” You ran your nose up the column of his neck, moaning softly in his ear. You could feel the inner workings of his chest like this: his heart beat, the rumble of his voice, his breathing, when he swallowed hard out of nerves. You squeezed his waist between your thighs in appreciation, wet hair tickling your forehead.

Instead of going back to kissing, you held him. Thomas knew you loved to be hugged this way, held up in the air like a baby koala. You tucked your face against his neck and he rocked slightly. Safe, oh so safe. His skin was hot and the cotton of his shirt soft, smelling like fabric softener. To someone else this would look strange, but Thomas knew how comforting this was, and he didn’t care what anyone else thought.

It was like flipping the on switch: you don’t know how dark a room really is until you fill it with light. Now secure in Thomas’ arms, the memory of your avoidance made your heart ache, like someone was crushing it in their fist. I ache for you. You pulled away from his neck to kiss his lips and he stopped you, features dismayed.

“Y/n, why are you crying?” I’m not. Your hands flew up to your face and you felt the tears Thomas saw.

“I didn’t know I was.” You were as confused as Thomas, who sat you down on the counter. Instantly you missed the intimacy of his arms. Missed. “I guess I really missed you.” The tears became more numerous and you accidentally let out a sob.

“But, I'm right here.” He squeezed your thighs then your hips with his hands, trying to reassure you of his presence. “Bunny, I’m here. Whatever you need, you can have me.” Poor Thomas looked so confused and worried, but unfortunately you felt the same. You had no reasoning for this moodswing, perhaps besides the secret you’d been harboring. You’d thought about his rejection so thoroughly that it made you feel sick inside. You missed him preemptively because you might lose him.

“I don’t know why I’m reacting this way. It's just that I -” your body interrupted you with a hiccup before you could confess. You were left gasping for breath. This is exactly how your anxiety manifested as a child. Thomas stepped between your legs and pulled you into his chest again. You steeled yourself. I can tell him if I don’t have to look him in the face.

“Bunny, why are you sad?” Oh, to have Thomas in your arms, you’d really fucking miss it. He was gentle not to crush you, attentive to your body’s signals. Not to mention his pheromones made you feel like a live wire.

“I’m not sad exactly.” Your voice trembled and you wished to control this very dramatic, visceral reaction to making yourself vulnerable. “I have something to tell you. It’s um...it’s not about your or our relationship.” You sniffled and squeezed Thomas around the middle. “You’re actually kind of perfect.” You meant to chuckle, but it turned into another sob.

“Bunny, no.” You could hear Thomas getting choked up too. He was a compassionate crier. If someone he cared for was that upset he was so deeply empathetic that he couldn’t help but tear up. You were fucking messes, the both of you. “Does this- does it have anything to do with what you told me about only being with cis women before. Because I understand it now, I’m sorry I took so long.” It was as if the gears of your mind came to a grinding halt.

“Yes, actually.” You pulled back, wiping the tears from your face. “I don’t um- I don’t want you to feel like I deceived you.” Your lip was trembling again, but that didn’t matter when Thomas kissed you. This wasn’t some conciliatory, reassuring kiss. Thomas really kissed you. He put a hand behind your head so you didn’t concus yourself on the cupboards and brought your lips to his. It was fevered, no gentle brushes of lips hinting at something. Thomas said exactly what he meant, out loud with that kiss. His tongue pushed into your mouth where he demanded you receive him with your own tongue.

You were already feeling destabilized with emotions and were happy to swap insecure with passionate. You scooted to the edge of the counter, pressing your abdomen against Thomas’ attempting to reduce the space between you. His thumb hooked around your chin and pulled your mouth open wider. Thomas had the height advantage and was bearing down on you with his mouth, hands pulling you to the edge of the counter as well. He had a solid grip on your right thigh, and you focused your attention on that, grounding yourself with it. If you thought about all the sensations and emotions of the moment, you would drown in them, like a wild river that takes water down from the mountains in the summer.

“Thomas, Thomas,” you murmured into the kiss. You wanted his attention, but weren’t sure for what. Pulling an inch away, Thomas used the thumb on your chin to force you to look at him when he spoke. It was a domineering move you didn’t expect.

“I do not feel deceived. I don’t feel owed information, okay? You tell me in your own time.” It was all you could do to nod along. You dove towards him, licking his lips with your tongue, trying to touch his cupid's bow. “Hey, hey, but,” Thomas held your jaw, making it clear he wasn’t done talking yet. “But, please don’t avoid me. I don’t need a certain kind of sex to be satisfyed, we can have sex however you want.”

“But I do want your dick.”. Thomas - who’d been proud of his newfound composure - choked on his spit. “I just needed to tell you that I’d never taken one before, first.”

Clearing his throat, Thomas responded “but we don’t need to do this right now, if you’re not ready,” dutifully.

“I know I’m ready.”  He was trying to be chivlrous, but you could see his boy brain short-circuting at the prospect of sex.

“Oh, but -”

“Thomas I literally got an IUD in so we could have unprotected sex. I have thought about this alot.”

“Oh my god,” he murmured in wonder. You couldn’t help but laugh as Thomas attempted to redirect signals and catch up.

“Take your time babe,” you say comfortingly patting him on the arm. His Bambi eyes are wide open in shock, hands white-knuckling the counter.

“Right okay so -” Thomas' voice was higher than usual. “We should have sex sometime soon.”

“How about right now?” Since the fear attached to this act is now nonexistent, you're just really really horny. The idea of Thomas cock, hot and hard inside you had superglued itself to your frontal lobe and now it was all you could think about. Silicone is never warm like the human body, it always feels like an intrusion on some level. It’s impossible to replicate all those complex structures that give a cock its slight flex and bend. At the end of the day, you’re just getting fucked by really expensive plastic and it is obvious.

“Like right now?”

“Unless you have something else going on?”

“No! No, um -” Again, Thomas is reeling from your answer.

“Would you like additional time to process?” You giggle while Thomas opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water.

“Absolutely not, I am totally ready.” Thomas gives you a staunch nod that only makes you grin further. He’s trying to be serious when all he wants is to grope you and it's adorable. You take matters into your own hands. First you throw your purse on the floor, ignoring the noise of your keys falling out. You take off your puffy coat, kick out of your shoes, and flip your head over to pull your hair into a ponytail. You give Thomas a long questioning look before he starts frantically yanking at his clothes.

“I’m going to your bedroom,” you announce. walking backward for a few steps. Thomas stumbles after you, so excited he can’t focus on starting in one particular place. You kneel on the bed and pull his standing form towards you by his belt. Based on his face it has  the intended effect. You undo the buckle as Thomas watches in awe, pulling out the belt and almost whipping yourself in the face in the process. You pop open the buttons of his fly, pushing his jeans down. Thomas manages to wiggle out of them as he makes his way up the bed.

You feel a freedom with your body, now that you’re not avoiding leading Thomas on. You haul him on top of you, parting your legs to make space. His weight, his smell, his presence, it's like having a craving fulfilled. You kiss him hard, pulling at his hair which has started to dry at the ends. You let out an encouraging moan, and start pulling at his t-shirt. He sits back on his heels to shed it and looks down at your fully clothed form, perturbed.

Thomas really does mean to take everything off, but after the shirt and bra he gets distracted. You settle back into position, Thomas resting between your spread legs. It feels like claiming something natural to you, welcoming Thomas against your body like this. He gets preoccupied with your nipples, sucking and oh so gently using his teeth in a way that makes your back arch.

“Thomas!” You’re not sure whether it's a question or a warning, but he pulls your sweat pants down to your ankles and off. While he’s at the end of the bed Thomas, makes a show of taking your socks off. The left one he whips around his head, circling his hips in a little dance. The right sock he takes off with his teeth, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Thomas you’re fucking ridiculous. You’re gonna bite my toe off, stop!” You’re belly laughing at his antics, so hard your eyes crinkle at the corners, and realize this is intentional. He’s trying to relax you. It’s thoughtful and it’s working because he looks like a fucking idiot.

He crawls back up the bed settling between your thighs and you get another ache, this time in your groin. Even in just your underwear, it’s not close enough, and even without your underwear he’d still be too far from you. There is no such thing as close enough until Thomas has invaded the bounds of your body. You pull at his briefs, which surprises him, but he lays next to you and takes them off. You’re about to do the same, but Thomas reaches his hands over.

“At least let me do this part.” Thomas turned onto his side, tracing his fingers along the waistband of your underwear. You’d worn them to be seen briefly and taken off. The panties were too tight, too sticky, and very uncomfortable. You let out a whine and Thomas grinned. “All right, all right!” He pulled them off by the front, adorned by a little black bow.

When Thomas didn’t immediately put his fingers inside you, you reached over and grabbed his hard cock in your hand, stroking it the way he liked. Thomas’ eyes fluttered shut, his mouth falling open again. The skin of his cock was so soft and delicate. You hadn’t thought about that, how he’d be delicate too and it made your pussy throb.

“Baby, baby, I’m already plenty hard.” Fine then, you thought, pulling Thomas’ body on top of you. He landed with a huff between your legs and you lifted your hips so the head of dick would stroke against your wet labia. It was the first time you’d felt the velvety head of a cock nudge your pussy, and the sensation, however mild, had your back arching again. You couldn’t quite figure out when Thomas was pressed against your entrance, but you doubted he had the same experience, considering the rush of slick that no doubt had come to coat his member.

“More.” The need for closer pulsed in your cunt like a heartbeat. He was almost close enough, you tried to pull him into you, but Thomas was frozen in place.

“Bunny, you know we can’t do it like this, I need to warm you up.” You finally looked at Thomas’ face, who somehow had more control than you.

“I’m so tired of waiting!”

“I know, bunny. I know,” he cooed, shifting to lay beside you again. You let out a whine of betrayal at his abandonment. “I know you’re desperate.” Thomas brought his hand between your legs, very gradually applying pressure to your clit. He rubbed in slow circles and you bucked your hips, trying to move his hand lower, to your entrance. Thomas huffed in annoyance. “Fine. Is this what you want?” He put the entirety of his finger into your opening, in one go. You let out a sound close to a scream, head thrown back, hands clawing at the sheets like a feral animal.

It was all you could do to murmur his name like a prayer. The last bit had hurt, but mostly the stretch had felt incredible. Thomas pumped the finger in and out, and everytime you’d chase its length with the movement of your hips.

“I know you want to take everything right away, but you have to tell me if it hurts or if it's too much.” You didn’t respond, knowing full well that as long as Thomas was inside you, you wouldn’t complain. “God, you’re so wet, but you’re so fucking tight,” he said in wonder. Thomas inserted his second finger slowly, working it in with the first one. When he finally gave you the full length of both, you hissed in delight.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you chanted. Your feet kicked in pleasure, moving you up the bed when you were trying to grind down onto Thomas’ hand. “I’m ready, I’m ready!”

“No you’re not, bunny. You’ve still got a ways to go.” You let out a disparaging wail, thinking you might start crying again if you didn’t get Thomas’ cock soon. You knew that the third finger would hurt, and were frustrated with the limits of your body. Thomas was fumbling in the bedside table for lube with his left hand. Upon realizing his new bottle was in his closet, Thomas moved to get off the bed. You closed your thighs around the right hand stimulating your pussy, not letting him go. Thomas looked back in shock. “Bunny…”

“You fuck me when you get back on the bed. That's my condition.” Thomas let out a laugh of disbelief

“Bunny, it’s my hand.”  Your face was set in a scowl, but your bottom lip quivered.

“What if I can’t do it?” You finally confessed.

“Then that’s okay.” Your expression said otherwise. “But I’m pretty sure you can. A strap-on isn’t much different, I think it's just the significance of the situation that is making you nervous.” You nodded in agreement and Thomas rubbed your shin comfortingly with his free hand. “You’re so focused on getting there that you’re not really enjoying anything.”

“I’ll enjoy it when you’re inside of me.” He leaned in and pressed a passionate kiss to your lips.

“Maybe try to enjoy it in the meantime too? Hmm?” He pressed his lips to your knee caps while maintaining eye contact. It was an achingly sweet gesture. “Lube will help, which means…”

“Right, sorry!” You’d completely forgotten about holding Thomas’ right hand hostage in your vagina. He smiled so big you could see his gums and in that moment you wanted to somehow contain Thomas inside you, tuck him in a safe place where no one could hurt his sweet, gentle soul.

When Thomas crawled back onto the bed, you laid into your previous position. He started with two fingers again, which didn’t go in easily because the lube was freezing.You focused on relaxing your pelvis, breathing in a meditative pattern. You really hadn’t been doing Thomas’ efforts justice, just focusing on the dimensions of his foreplay. He was applying that lovely, steady pressure to the outside of your vulva, all the nerves singing for him. Inside, he was scissoring his fingers to make room. Every now and then he brushed your g-spot, which elicited an appreciative moan from you.

You focused on relaxing around the intruding digits, opening your body to him, for him. It worked surprisingly well. When he pushed in a third finger, your walls spasmed because of the cold lube, then accepted the addition. Your hymen was sore, and at the deepest point of intrusion, the pressure was still a bit uncomfortable. Beyond that you were so wet that it was easy, you felt malleable in Thomas’s hands.

He was sweaty, flushed, and glistening with precum. You wished that you’d only needed the lubrication provided by your bodies, but that wasn’t realistic. The amount of self-restraint Thomas had been exercising was incredible, but you didn’t want to see Thomas composed and restrained anymore.

“Baby, I really am ready. You can give your hand a break.” Thomas nodded and retracted his hand, whipping it on the sheets.

“I know. I’m a little nervous too.” You beamed at that, rubbing his arms reassuringly as he positioned himself over you. “So um, if it’s too uncomfortable just tell me and I’ll pull out.”

“Or you could cum.” Thomas’ mouth fell open.

“I usually pull out, but, yeah, if you wanted me to.”

“I do.” You look at him pointedly. “It’s important to me. I have the IUD and everything so -”

“Right, yeah. So -” It was hilarious that only now things were awkward.

“I want you to come inside me,” you clarified. “I want to know what it feels like. From you, specifically. Promise?” Thomas nodded and looked up at the headboard, taking a few deep breaths. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just needed to calm myself down, because I was about to last ten seconds.” Giggling you thought about how, in this moment, you were happy. You’d always thought you’d be afraid, but Thomas made you happy. He’d slicked himself up with lube, letting it warm on my skin. He’d started positioning himself, but something gave him pause. “I just want to check that you’re absolutely-”

“Yes Thomas I am absolutely sure that I want your dick in me right now, so either do it or lay on your back and I’ll do it my damn self.”

“Okay, okay.” Thomas went silent and you could tell he was focusing. You felt the head of his cock against your entrance and tilted your hips up to meet him. He pushed forward and you thought “well that was easy now he’s inside,” but when he truly breached the bounds of your body the next second it was far from comfortable. You reminded yourself that the worst of the diameter stretch was over. You could feel the ache of the intrusion and it wasn’t like three fingers at all.

“How much is that?” You tried not to wince.

“Almost half bunny.” What. You took a deep breath in and tried to relax on the exhale. “It’s more comfortable if you put your legs up.” You gingerly wrapped your legs around Thomas’ waist and found he was right. It repositioned your pelvis, giving more room. You scooted down, and now you were truly laying directly under Thomas’ body. He was forcing himself to keep it together, but his face was flushed bright red up to his ears and his eyes half lidded.

“A little more.” He tilted his hips almost imperceptibly, and you didn’t feel your body hitting any limits. “Okay a little more.” You nodded for him to continue, but felt that pang of deep intrusion. Why did it feel like you hadn’t prepped at all? You may just have to grit your teeth on this first bit. “Okay just keep going.” You did your best to hide your discomfort.

“I know it's painful for you because it's painful for me.” You let out a huff of exacerbation, because it really shouldn’t be this difficult. You’d taken strap-ons before and, sure, they weren’t as big as Thomas, but not by that much. “You need to relax, bunny. You can’t force it.” You’d assigned so much pressure to this moment in your mind that your body was reacting accordingly.

“Can you come closer?” Thomas moved down to his elbows, balancing on his forearms instead of his hands. “You can give me some of your weight Tommy, I’ll be fine.” He finally relaxed against you, and it was comforting, having his body pressed against yours. You crossed your ankles, moving your legs further up his back. It allowed his cock to press into you a little further without your body objecting. “Have you ever had this much trouble with a girl before?”

“Yes,” he replied quickly.

“Not with a virgin I mean.” Thomas looked up, searching for the right words.

“Not necessarily, but you’re worth it.” You couldn’t help but ogle him adoringly. Paired with the deep breaths, you could feel your walls relaxing.

“You know, I was worried you would think I was a virgin when I told you.” Thomas actually snorted at that.

“Y/n, we’ve literally had sex before.” You realized you ludicrous the notion when Thomas articulated it.

“Okay, well when you say it like that -”

“What kind of old school bullshit definition -”

“I don’t know! You were raised Catholic!” You were both laughing, so you pressed your heels into Thomas’ back to prevent yourself from pushing him out. Instead he sank deeper into you with ease. “Keep going, keep going.” Thomas looked down, and the pressure of intrusion became almost too much.

“That's it,” he claimed.

“More.” Thomas let out a breath and sank into you until you could feel his public hair tickling your inner thighs, until he was totally seated deep inside you. You imagined the pre-cum leaking from his cock, coating your walls deeper than you’d ever been touched before. He was so deep it was a bit like having the wind knocked out of you. Your chest was heaving, trying to get enough air to compensate. You put your hand on your stomach, just below your belly button to indicate. “I can feel you right here.” Thomas had those big, round Bambi eyes of wonder. “Holy shit, you’re so tight.” He was panting too. You’d expected a litany of sensation, but in reality you couldn’t distinctly feel where your body ended and Thomas’ began. It was so unlike taking some phallic shaped piece of plastic.

“God you’re so warm,” you whine, fists opening and closing as you search for something to grab on to. Thomas’ cock felt like a glorious extension of him, who had pushed your body open to make room for where he belonged.

“So are you. Fuck.” He rested his forehead, slick with sweat, against yours. You tilted your face up and licked the perspiration from his temple. It was salty, just like his cum. His cock jumped inside you in response and your breath hitched. You’d never considered that Thomas would spasm in arousal just as you did. You crane your neck upwards to suck on Thomas’ neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to make him react. His cock pulsed inside you and you moaned in approval.

“I can feel you so fucking deep baby.” Thomas whined in response, almost collapsing against you. With gentle fingers, you tucked the hair behind his ear and whispered, “you can move now, Tommy.” Thomas allowed himself a couple shallow thrusts and you bucked your hips up to meet him again. Always asking for me, always needing it. He pulled almost all the way out, before thrusting back in. It was slow and gentle, with no force.

“For fucks sake, this isn’t my first time! Please, give me something.” Thomas moved back up to his hands so he could get some momentum and finally, finally fucked you. The drag of the head of his cock against your walls was orgasmic. Each time he thrusted till your bodies met he also nudged your g-spot. Every pass, over and over again, until your nails were raking down his back.

Fucking Thomas was cathartic because it felt like your body was learning something it was meant to do. The way he fit, the way he pressed you open, it felt natural and right. How had you waited to do this until now? You’d thought that the constriction of your walls was a rare symptom of orgasam, but every pass you fought the urge to bare down so hard Thomas hissed in pain at the pressure. It was like your body was begging for more, trying to keep him inside.

The internal spasms of pleasure caused an external reaction too, and you are clinging to Thomas, chanting his name. Out of curiosity, you reached down between your bodies and felt the out stroke of his cock. The skin was slick and so soft, just as you were inside, the most intimate parts of your body made of the same stuff. You found yourself asking for more, begging for it. This gentle love making would not satiate your libido.

“Okay, okay. Let's put your legs over my shoulders.” Your muscles were surprisingly flexible and you managed to adjust the position without kicking Thomas in the face. Having your knees towards your chest revealed every insecurity. It created additional stomach rolls, and the position rendered you defenceless. However this barring of vulnerabilities made the situation all the more erotic. He had total control, could judge freely. Instead, Thomas beamed down at you in adoration, as he sank into your pussy again.

This time you could enjoy it. The stretch from the head of his cock, the pulsating of his own excitement, the soft skin, and easy slip. He was watching your face more carefully than before, and you realized why as he passed your g-spot and moved in deeper still. You threw your head against the pillow, unable to hold its weight and endure this level of intimacy. He’d found the depth to touch your g-spot and was torturing the area by thrusting against it repeatedly. The stimulation was making your eyes water and your feet were kicking against his back without permission. Thomas’ face was contorted in focus, resisting getting swept away in his own pleasure.

“More,” you moaned, wanting to milk the moment for all it was worth. Thomas transitioned to breakneck pace and you shook your head. You couldn’t find the words in this haze of euphoric sensation, but that wasn’t what you had meant.

“You want harder, not faster,” Thomas guessed. Yes, yes, yes. You weren’t sure if you’d said the words out loud, but you must’ve because he understood. The first thrust where your groins collided had you nodding vigorously, whining in approval. Yes, this is exactly what you meant. Thomas pressed your bodies together for a moment before pulling back. Upon seeing your reaction,he turned it up a notch. This time, he thrust into you so hard that it jolted you up the bed. He ground against you and it was perfect, your clit rubbing against his happy trail. Your eyes rolled back in your head, so on the next thrust he ground down harsher, longer, and your hands clawed at his back.

“I’m gonna cum, y/n. I’m gonna cum.” Part of you was disappointed because you are very much enjoying yourself, but you also knew that Thomas had dutifully been holding off for the better part of an hour.

“Yes baby, cum inside me” It only took a moment to remember how much you’d craved this, how much you’d wanted to feel him ejaculate his hot spunk inside your pussy. “Cum inside me Tommy, please. You promised, remember? You promised.” You were so close to the moment you’d craved, and if he pulled out you’d be heartbroken because you’d never have this opportunity back.You wanted it to be Thomas. In this position you couldn’t stop him either. “Please, Tommy, don’t pull out. You promised you wouldn’t. Please, please -”

“Bunny, I’m staying right here,” he choked, arms shaking. Thomas looked so fucked-out it seemed he was racing to orgasm before he collapsed of exhaustion. You murmured encouragement, wanting to touch his hair but deciding not to in case it ruined his groove. His face was screwed up in focus, flushed, with beads of perspiration marking his forehead. You were sweaty as well. Usually you hated sweat, but the radiate heat from sex was cathartic and pleasurable.

When Thomas orgasamed, he shuddered, then froze, trying not to crash on top of you. He did anyway and you welcomed his weight. You directed all your focus to the sensations deep inside your cunt and you did feel him cum. It was a more subtle sensation than you’d predicted, the sudden feeling of something hotter than everything else, right above where Thomas was seated. However, it was there nonetheless, and you relished it.

Thomas moved his arms wordlessly, allowing you to put your legs back around his hips. It felt the same as the koala cuddle, comforting and safe. You hummed in contentment, while Thomas panted against the pillow. When he tried to pull out, you yelped, hugging him to you with all four limbs.

“Just a little longer, Tommy.” He hushed you calmingly.

“Okay, bunny. I’m not going anywhere.”

Notes: Whoops! Not sure how that happened. The Halloween spirit of smut possessed me. Lemme know if you like this type of vibe I’d love to write more like it.

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[chasingpj]

𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐦𝐞?

"My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers?"

pairing: leo valdez x gn reader

words: 2,994

warnings: cursing, mentions of genitalia

category: one-shot, soulmate!au

You don’t know who your soulmate is, but when you find out, you know the first thing you’ll do is punch him in his face. You don’t understand why he does this. Why can’t he be romantic like everyone else? You have a few friends who have the same connection you share with your soulmate, through your skin. Your friends rise from their slumbers with beautiful sketches on their arms; Or throughout the day, lines will appear as they’re being drawn, creating the most beautiful artwork you’ve ever seen. However, of course, you don’t get that; instead, you get this.

You stare at yourself in the mirror with pure disbelief, and you can’t decide whether to cry or scream. You’re used to these kinds of drawings in places like your arms, stomach, and legs, so they were easy to hide. But this has never happened before; it's never been in a place so… so visible.

You fill with rage as you observe the sloppily drawn dick on your forehead and your fist clenches as it lays on top of your bathroom sink. You fucking ass. How the hell am I going to hide this? You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, and you have this vulgar drawing on your forehead. You’re sure if you tell your boss your situation, he’d probably dismiss you because this is obviously not appropriate for the workplace. Still, you can’t even imagine trying to explain this to him. It was way too embarrassing.

"What am I going to do?” You whine as you rub your hands on your face. The drawing won’t be removed from your skin unless your soulmate removes it on his, so you had to think of a solution right away.

“Where could he possibly be where this is acceptable?” You try to refrain from sobbing hopelessly as your frantic mind searches for a solution. You think maybe a hat will work, but you discard the idea knowing your boss will tell you to take it off once you’re indoors. Suddenly, like a sign from the heavens, your solution hits you right in the face when you catch sight of your makeup bag lying on the toilet seat. You reach over, grabbing the pouch and unzipping it. Your quivering hands move too fast, causing the products to fall out and scatter into the sink. Your eyes skim over them in search of your thickest foundation and concealer. When you find them, along with your primer, you sigh, saying a silent prayer before getting to work.

***

Leo gasps sharply as the sight of his face in the mirror shocks him out of his fatigue. He touches his forehead, trying to recall the memory of last night while ignoring the pounding headache surging through his skull. He remembers getting to the club with a group of friends and how they took one shot after another until their vision was blurry. He has a faint memory of dancing with some girl, and the chaos of his 4 am Macdonald’s run with his friends. However, he doesn't recall the moment when this picture was drawn on his face. When did this happen? More importantly, who did this? He pauses, gawking at his reflection. His jaw clenches as the culprit comes to mind. He felt foolish for questioning who did this because he lives with, and he went home with one person last night, and that's Percy.

“Percy!” He yells angrily, and in the next room, he hears Percy’s manic laughter getting louder as he runs down the hall and into the bathroom with him. Percy can’t help but laugh even harder at the sight of a distressed Leo, and he silently congratulates himself for pulling such a successful prank. Leo’s expression hardens, and his gaze snaps over to him, “It's not funny!”

Percy snorts and nudges his shoulder, "Come on, loosen up!" Leo laughs sarcastically,

"Come on, loosen up!" He mocks with clear annoyance, making Percy’s laughter ceases. Leo usually takes things like this so well; he's never been angry at him because of a childish prank. The two of them have been pulling pranks on each other since they moved in together, and they would always laugh it out while deviously planning their revenge. Percy tilts his head, now growing annoyed that Leo’s annoyed.

"Why are you so uptight today?" He almost snaps, not understanding his fury. Leo's eyes narrow at him,

"My soulmate is linked to my skin." He speaks slowly and carefully, accentuating his words to make sure Percy understands how bad this is. Percy's mouth drops open, and he stares at the vulgar art on his forehead.

"Oh… shit," is the only thing he can think of saying. “Fuck, I forgot. I’m sorry,” Percy apologizes even though he knows it doesn’t help anything. He didn’t share the same connection with his soulmate, so he had forgotten entirely about Leo’s bond with his. He’s now left with regret knowing that there's someone out there going along their day trying to hide this lewd image.

Leo groans as he throws his head back. "I-It'll wash off? Right?"

Leo flips up the sink’s nozzle, dipping his head in the cold tap water to wet his face. He scrubs with his fingers, blindly grasping the soap next to him. He runs it over, spreading the suds and lightly scratching his forehead. He rinses everything off and returns to his original position to check his face now. He yells in panic when he sees the drawing didn't budge at all; it didn't even fade. Percy audibly gasps,

"I used permanent marker."

"BRO!"

"I'm sorry!"

Percy shifts on his feet as the memory of last night comes back to him. Leo fell asleep in the cab ride home, and Percy, somehow without much balance, carried him over his shoulder into their apartment complex. He squints his eyes, and with a vague remembrance, he recalls plopping him down on the couch. Leo was unconscious, and Percy’s drunk mind saw this as a perfect opportunity to prank him. He picked the first marker he saw, and in the middle of a giggling fit, he sloppily drew the phallic item and took a picture.

Leo frantically puts his head back in the sink to scrub again, and Percy stands by the door, watching panic wash over him. Leo continues scrubbing his skin, and though his skin becomes red under the friction of his nails, he persists. Percy shakes his head, walking over to him quickly, and he pats his shoulder.

"Come on, man. It's not working; you’re gonna hurt yourself." If Percy let him, Leo would scrub his skin raw. He disregards his advice and continues to scrub, bringing the soap over the drawing once again before scratching harshly. Percy, not wanting his friend to hurt himself, turns off the tap, and Leo groans, standing straight. He stares at himself in the mirror, his face dripping wet, and his skin is red with irritation. I'm so sorry.

***

Your day hasn't gotten any better since this morning. First, you wake with a dick on your forehead; second, you miss your bus because you took so much time layering makeup on your face. Then, you get to work about 15 minutes late because your commute, which usually took about 5 minutes, was delayed due to traffic. You assumed that your day couldn’t get any worse, but you discovered you spoke too soon when the system your job uses to put in orders crashed, making your job even harder than it had to be. Also, you spilled hot coffee on yourself during the morning rush, and that almost sent you straight into tears, but somehow, you prevailed.

By the afternoon, you wanted to rip your hair out when you realized you forgot your wallet, leaving you unfed and cranky. Your boss was no help to your mood either. He picked at everything you did today and held a grudge about you being late this morning. You've never had such a shitty day at work, and there is a sense of relief when you witnessed the clock turn to 4:30 pm. You immediately stood up from your chair, collecting your things before walking straight to the computer to clock out.

The last challenge you're facing is to get home in the slippery aftermath of the pouring rain earlier today. It was colder than usual; the sun’s hidden behind stormy gray clouds, and the smell of wet soil is in the air. You shiver, your arms wrapped around your frame in a poor attempt to keep you warm. You don't have an umbrella, and you hope it doesn’t start raining again. You were sure that if your makeup washes away in the rain for everyone to see the mystery under it, you will lose your mind.

You stand in the corner of the waiting shed, resting your head on the side. You take a deep breath, noticing your hands are anxiously chipping away the week-old nail polish. From the corner of your eye, you see someone join you under the shed, and out of usual curiosity, you look over. A tall, slender guy stands in the opposite corner; he wears distressed blue jeans, a black hoodie with a print you can’t see from your view, and a black winter hat. In his hands, he fiddles with a piece of scrap metal. His skin was tan, and his brown curly hair peeks from under his hat. Oblivious to your staring, he looks away from his fiddling and happens to glance over at you. There's a moment of awkward eye contact before you snap your vision away and out to the street.

You cringe at yourself for staring too long, shifting on your feet. You casually lean over the side of the curve, and you swear the light of the heavens was shining on your bus as it drove toward you. You couldn’t help but smile, a sense of relief washing over you. It’s here; you were one step closer to getting home and relaxing.

The excitement was taken away as quickly as it arrived, your bus passing your stop making a mini tsunami in the process. A wave of water splashes directly on you, and it takes you a moment to process what just happened. You stand there, cold and wet staring blankly at the curve. You felt overwhelmed, not being able to hold back the cries that you’ve been suppressing all day.

"are you-" a sob releases from your lips, stunning the unknown guy next to you. You miserably walk over to the bench, plopping down and resting your elbows on your thighs to lay your head in your hands. You sob freely, not caring about the boy's presence, and he stands in his spot, not sure what to do. He had an innate urge to make you feel better, and he doesn't know why but it pains him to see you like this. He clears his throat and decides to settle in the seat next to you. "Bad day?"

You sniffle, trying to find your breath, "The worst."

You don't look up, your hands doing their part to cover your face and your forehead. "I don't understand why everything is going so wrong.” You didn’t even care that you were pitying yourself, but you felt like you had the right considering how shit your day has been.

"I woke up with an awful drawing from my soulmate. I was late for my bus, which made me late to work; I haven't had lunch either. I'm hungry, cold, and now, soaking wet in street water." You sniffle once more. "My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers? I'd even take a tacky picture of two stick figures falling in love... shit; I’d be satisfied with a grocery list. But of course, with my luck, that doesn't happen. I get stupid drawings of... genitalia."

Leo’s body tenses next to you, and his teeth bite the inside of his lip. Drawings of genitalia? Sounds like him. Now he needed to see this drawing you were talking about, and he feels himself getting anxious at the possibility that you could be his soulmate. You continue to cry, refusing to move from your position.

"Well... it can't be that bad?"

"Oh, it's bad,” you managed to respond in your ragged breathing. Leo hesitantly reaches over, affectionately rubbing his hand across your upper back. Your breath hitches softly at the back of your throat, and there is a surge of warmth that radiates from his hand. You feel your tense shoulders begin to relax, and you furrow your eyebrows as your breath miraculously finds its regular pace. You even have this strange desire to cuddle into his frame to acquire more of his touch.

"Come on, show me. It's probably not as bad as you think." He speaks from his experience this morning. If you aren't his soulmate, he's sure that whatever you have isn't as traumatic as what he and his soulmate have.

"No! You'll laugh," you whine, your head laying firmly on your hands.

"I won't! I promise." You can tell from his voice that he was genuine, and for some reason, you can trust him. You slowly remove your hands from your face, but your head is still in an embarrassed bow. His heart pounds in his chest at the anticipation and leans forward to get a look at your face. You close your eyes, not wanting to see his initial reaction.

There it was. Right under your concealer, there is the familiar drawing faintly present. Leo's mouth drops, and his eyes widen; how is he going to tell you that he has the same picture on his forehead? You sigh shakily,

"It's bad, isn't it?" Your face burns in pure humiliation, and you now regret showing him. Leo is silent for a bit, trying to find words to explain himself.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes flutter open to look at his guilty expression.

"Why are you sorry?" He doesn't even attempt to explain himself in words. He simply slides off his winter hat, showing you the original drawing on his skin. You inhale sharply, your mind trying to process what is happening in front of you.

He's your soulmate, the person that you ideally would spend your life with. You didn't think you'd find him anytime soon or even at all. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, and your cheeks get warm. You both gaze into each other’s eyes, and there was an immediate connection. You take in the tousled curls on his head, a bit frizzy from his hat and his big brown eyes. Your heart pumps hard in your chest, just as fast as the boy’s heart in front of you.

A few people told you that you’d feel like the world will slow down when you meet your soulmate. You’ll feel complete, and all at once, you’ll fall in love. You thought it was a load of over-romanticized bull, but you found that it was true even with your strange circumstance.

You finally found him…

But he's done this.

Your anger somehow counteracts this "in love" feeling, and you momentarily hate him for starting your day off on a sour note.

"You!" Your arms lift to strike him in the chest, but before you could attack, he grasps your tight fists.

"I'm sorry! I can explain!" He says quickly. Your arms loosen up, and you narrow your eyes at him,

"Explain yourself then." Sheepishly Leo cowers and his hands remain around your fist, just in case.

"Well," he sighs, "I partied a little too hard last night, and um, my roommate, Percy, thought it would be funny to draw this on my forehead."

"Your roommate is an ass."

"Well, yeah. Sometimes. But he was just as drunk as I was, and he didn't realize that the marker was permanent. When I saw it, I immediately thought of you, and how you’d have to walk around with this." He chews on the inside of his cheek, "I tried getting it off, but it won’t go away." You sigh, willing to forgive him since it wasn't his fault.

"So, we're gonna have this for a while?"

"Probably a couple of days or so." You groan and don’t say anything in return. You look down at your lap, still hiding your face from anyone around. "Oh, here, take my sweatshirt. The hoodie can keep it hidden.” He puts his hat back on and pulls his sweatshirt over his body, passing it to you. You smile softly as you take it from him. You pull it over your still soaked and cold frame, slipping your arms in and bringing the hood up. You mutter a small thank you, shoving your hands in the front pocket. He replies with a hum, allowing the sounds of the passing cars to fill your comfortable silence.

"Again, I'm sorry,” he apologizes sincerely, and you turn your head. You smile reassuringly,

"It's okay. I'll forgive you this time,” you say teasingly, and he chuckles. "I'm y/n, by the way."

"Leo." You reach over, taking his hand, and you guys share a handshake.

"Nice to meet you, soulmate.”

masterlists

#leo valdez x you #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez one shot #heroes of olympus fanfic #heroes of olympus #my writing

[ateezinmymind]

seeing their s/o’s nipple piercings

ateez x fem! reader

fluff, some members suggestive

requested by @tinkerbellwoo 💓💗 tysm ily!! (did you end up getting your nips pierced?!)

hongjoong:

WILL STARE 1/4

get ready for lots of questions

he’s gonna be a little shy though

opening the door into the studio, hongjoong seated in his chair- you couldn’t help the wicked grin on your face as you pace towards him.

“hey joongie~ you’ll never guess what i did”

spinning his chair around to look at you, hongjoong wished he didn’t start talking before he saw what you were doing. “hmmm you went and got me a- OH~!”

the view of your lifted up hoodie and newly pierced nipples on display made the man in front of you audibly suck in a whiny gasp. slapping his hands over his mouth, hongjoong quickly tried to cover up the awkward noise he made with a light giggle.

“u-ummm… what is this y/n?” he says unable to stop himself from staring hard at your chest. he knew it too, but you were so mesmerizing and your nipples hard from the cool air and pierced with silver made hongjoong’s face burn with a blush.

the more you talked about the whole idea of getting them pierced and why, and how long you’ve wanted them- hongjoong couldn’t help but reach his hand out to touch it. but before he could do anything, he let out a yelp as you smacked his hand away. “no sir! no touching- they hurt!”

the way his face contorted into this shocked, open mouthed flushed cheeks look- made you chuckle out. “a-ah sorry y/n! umm i just wanted to uh..” scoffing out in embarrassment, hongjoong took his head into his hands as he bend over in his chair. you were about to say ‘it’s okay’ and pull your hoodie back down, but when he jerked his head back up to look this time into your eyes you perked your eyebrow in question. and you couldn’t help but shiver after what he asked…

“y/n… how long until i get to touch them?”

seonghwa:

CHEEKY MR SMIRKER

literally smirks when he sees them

you’ll make him GULP for sure

“ugh it’s so hot in here babe, open a window” you whine out while sprawled across the couch fanning yourself. making seonghwa just give you a low chuckle to slip past his smiling lips while watching you squirm.

“well y/n, you are in layers.. you’ve literally had my sweater on for days” he spoke softly coming over to stop your flapping hands, and give them a quick kiss. “you know.. sometimes your man wants to see his pretty girl’s body~”

the way you opened your eyes so fast and brought your hands instinctively to cup your breasts- sent a low hum to come out of seonghwa, and seemingly enough sent you to stutter out some incoherent blabber. “w-what?? well i-“

“y/n. take off the sweater” his strong demand made your body sit up on the couch and scoot back slightly. his eyes burning into yours, as he leaned down further. “or do you want me to?”

it wasn’t really that you didn’t want him to take off your clothes- but because of what you were hiding, you thought he wouldn’t find out about your new piercings this way. so, with fumbling hands and giving seonghwa a small “no i’ll do i-it,” you lift his sweater over your head and get met with a click of his tongue.

“oh-? and you’ve been hiding these from me for how long?” seonghwa says through his tight lipped smirk, watching how you still went to cover your breasts through your tank top. bringing your hands up to play with your tops straps, seonghwa swallows in the sight of you. “well, just like a week maybe, more?”

“a week-?!” he exclaims unexpectedly loud, bringing his hand to pull down the front of your tank top so your breasts come into pure sight. he can’t help the groan that escapes him as he brings his finger up to trace the piercing, and the gasp that comes out of you.

“a week and i haven’t known about this?! y/n. this is going to be fun”

yunho:

WILL STARE 2/4

curious boy

he wants to touch this can go both ways

as yunho cooked himself some ramen in the kitchen, you sat in the living room and watched him from there- the two of you talking about the weeks plans, until you randomly blurted out a question you’ve been wanting to ask for a little while.

“yuyu, what do you think about nipple piercings?”

the choice of question made yunho immediately look at you with a little smile. he knew since you brought it up, it had to be something you’ve been thinking about and his opinion was important to you. so, putting down his bowl- yunho strutted over to your side of the couch and plopped himself down.

“and why is this relevant my love?” he asks back to you while tucking his legs up to his body and facing you, leaning his head into his propped hand on the couch cushion. seeing you blush softly and give him a little giggle- he knew you were embarrassed.

“well, it’s just.. i did something a little bit ago- and well-“ you mutter lowly while looking straight at his chest where a splatter of sauce catches your eye. your gaze making him look down himself, right at the stain. laughter comes out of him and it makes you snap out of your trance and blurt out the next statement.

“yunho- i got my nipples pierced!”

your confession made him stop his noises and cover his mouth, “wait what?”

“a couple weeks ago- you were gone on that trip and i wanted to do it, i didn’t know that i’d lowkey be regretting it and-“ your rambling stops when yunho kisses you quickly, cupping your cheek. “y/n, stop worrying” going in for another kiss- a little more passionate this time, he pulls back again and shifts his position. “well… let’s see em!”

and with taking off your shirt, the sight of your breasts perked out in front of him, decorated with silver and the small nervous breaths you let out- sent yunho into a crisis of his sanity.

“fuck- wow… they look so good..” his paused causing an extreme tension to fill the air, with you partly undressed and shy- yunho’s pants began to tighten

yeosang:

AWKWARD BOY at first

but he’ll come around ehehe

just force him to look

“yeo come here, i need your help!!” your shout echoed through the bathroom out into the bedroom where your boyfriend laid. his body tucked into bed, warm and tired- all got disheveled when he made his way towards you in distress.

“what is it babe-“ seeing your bare back facing him through the showers glass door, flexing with your arm contractions trying to open your body scrub lid. just the sight of your skin made him clear his throat nervously. you never failed to send him immediately into alert with your effortless beauty.

“this stupid thing won’t open, my hands are too slippery” touching your back, signaling for you to give the object to him- yeosang couldn’t help himself but to look down at your bare chest. and even with the split amount of time he glanced- he noticed.

you got your nipples pierced.

all of the sudden he had gotten warm all over, and when he got more quieter than usual you looked up at him. yeosang’s face flushed, and his eyes focused up- you knew he saw. none of it helped when you let out a giggle, “oh sangie… you saw~” not trusting his voice enough, all he gave you for an answer was a nod of his head.

“well-“ you start, fully facing him now “do you think they look okay?” making sure to slide your hands up your body to cup your breasts, you accent the freshly decorated flesh with a light push. watching his eyes dart down from your chest up to your face and then away repeatedly. he stuttered out, embarrassed from how fast he got distracted “yes! y-yes they do”

his response made you smile widely and kiss his lips softly, then with your hand- you bring it up to his neck and hold it softly, then pulling away from yeosang’s mouth you whisper for another reaction

“once they fully heal, i’ll let you play with them~”

san:

WILL STARE 3/4

lots of licking his lips

thinks you’ve exceeded the expectations of hot

“just let me see them y/n!!” san says with the biggest pout formed on his lips. currently tugging at your loose fit shirt in wanting of it off.

you mistakenly told him that you went and got your nipples pierced, and now he was continuing to pester you about showing him- because apparently he was the reason you got them.

well maybe it was a reason, but you’ve always wanted to get them done so you did. “no san! they are sore- i don’t want you to touch them!” you complain back with a matching pout, pushing at his chest. which made him start becoming fussy and succeeding at pulling up your shirt to where he saw your stomach.

“y/n- i am the one you got them for!! let me see!! i won’t touch them i promise baby! please!!”

you didn’t know how much more complaining you could handle so you gave in to the whiny man on top of you, “fine!! just don’t be weird san” he didn’t know what you really meant by weird, but neither did he care when you said yes. he gave you the biggest smile and lifted your shirt up for you easily now without your struggle.

when he got met with your chest, san didn’t look away- just dead panned straight on. gulping down the saliva he unexpectedly got from the view. “holy- y/n, fuck- you” and before he could say any more, you put and finger up to his wet lips and shushed him. “no, don’t get weird with it”

“but i’m not weird with it!! i’m sorry- i just happen to be very turned on-“ he can’t even finish over the small scream you let out from hearing his confession, “san!!!”

“but y/n seriously, you look so fucking gorgeous- i hope you don’t mind me taking all your shirts away forever now.. you’re going to be topless from now on”

mingi:

BLUSHES SO HARD

really actually is curious and wants to touch

loves how they look through your shirt

you told mingi that you got your nipples pierced, so when you came back from the appointment with just a tank top on- he was so excited.

from the bright blush on his cheeks, to the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face- mingi was hopping over the couch to come see you. “y/n!! oh my gosh- you’re here!!” his little giggles and stomps through the hallway made you feel so happy. he was so cute with his enthusiasm for something you thought was fun and cool to do.

and when he came into sight to you putting down your purse on the counter, he blurts out cutely “i see them through your shirt y/n” his honesty and bluntness never failed to make you laugh, “yes mingi baby, but do you wanna see them without the shirt?”

his small gasp and ‘yes’ chants gave you his answer, so lifting your tank over your chest- your breasts all perked up with its new accessory. mingi immediately brought out his hands with a grabbing motion. “no, no touching yet okay? i’m sorry” the pout formed on his face sent you small pings of sadness.

you couldn’t wait until they fully were ready to be played with, so mingi could one; be entertained, and two; feel pleasurably sensitive.

“y/n, but what if i want to hold your boobs? what am i going to do then?”

wooyoung:

WILL STARE 4/4

pops a boner right then and there

honestly probably the most dirty minded

peeling the potatoes that wooyoung had set out for you, he prepared the other ingredients for his dish. “thanks for the help babe~” the two of you were busying yourselves in the kitchen this evening, he had thought it be a good idea for you to get a good meal in after the little argument you had earlier about something you chose to do without his knowledge of.

you decided to get your nipples pierced about a month ago while wooyoung was out of town for work. you’ve been wanting them for awhile, and wooyoung knew that, but you didn’t end up telling him about it, and evidently he didn’t even know about it until tonight when he slipped his hand under your shirt and was met with metal.

“i still want to know how long this whole healing thing is going to take y/n.” he speaks up while stirring the boiling pot of ingredients and broth. “well it’ll be a couple months woo, i don’t know why you’re so uptight about it”

from the sink, which you were washing your hands at- wooyoung reached over and slapped your ass. causing a surprised yelp to come out of your mouth. “what the heck?!” you turn back to look at the smug face plastered on the male.

giving him a wrinkle of your nose and sticking out your tongue, you flick water into the vicinity of his face, making wooyoung playfully snarl. “it’s because i really want to use this to my advantage”

his statement peaking your interest, you finish drying your hands and then position yourself over the counter, propping your chest for the perfect view above for him. you try and look confused until he dumbs it down for you

“y’know for sex?”

jongho:

HE WILL ACT UNFAZED

but on the inside he’s screaming holy hell

PLEASE THE GASPS YOU MAKE WHEN HE TOUCHES I- he’s going to get horny i’m sorry

you could’ve sworn jongho knew about your nipple piercings from when you first got them, but you guess he just didn’t pay enough attention to it.

but with two weeks past, and no word out of the man about it- you wanted to make sure he saw them. so when you knew he’d be coming into the bedroom for something, you caught yourself in there before- taking off your shirt.

but to what he said, really surprised you

“y/n i know what you’re doing.” you stopped your movements and stood still, breasts out in the open room, open to his roaming eyes. jongho brought his hand up to scratch at his scalp as he began towards you slowly. “oh yeah, do you?”

your little remark back just made him smirk slightly and nod his head in affirmation, “mmhmm, you’re trying to catch me off guard and make me notice what you did to your pretty boobs, yeah i know.”

his confession left you with a blazing blush across your face and a hand to cover your bare chest, but with jongho’s sudden strut forward and stop to your hand from coverage, you didn’t know what was going on.

“i noticed at first, but i can’t handle it. it’s too much y/n, you don’t even know” his desperate tone and tighter grip to your wrist gave you a wave of sudden weakness, “wait, really jongho?”

“oh my fuck- yes! i just get so crazy around you, i don’t know what to do about it.”

once you let him get a feel, he’ll never go back… he just can’t when you’re so sexy and beautiful- making all the most pretty noises and reactions…

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez yunho #ateez wooyoung #ateez yeosang #ateez seonghwa #ateez mingi #ateez hongjoong #ateez san #ateez jongho #ateez drabbles #ateez suggestive #ateez fluff #ateez fic

[danniburgh]

Evergreen Intrusion (Frankie Morales x f!reader)

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x f!reader

Summary: You never knew what happened or why it did; at nights, when you wrapped yourself around his body and he held you in place so you wouldn’t slip away from him, you talked about it, always coming to the same conclusion right before falling asleep. It was real.

Word count: +8.2k

Warnings: angst, hints of grief, smut, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), this is my attempt at magical realism, bear with me.

A/N: okay guys, this took me over 2 months to finish, i left it incomplete bc sex with frankie intimidated me but i sat today and said "youre gonna get done bitch" and it did, with major changes, but it did. anyway, thanks <3 and i wanna thank @mouthymandalorian​ because since the start i ranted everything to her and she read it in april and said “its good bitch” and wow, i love her so much i wanna cry

Masterlist // Read on ao3 // playlist // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

moodboard by me // gifs: @pajamasecrets and @conveniently-available

Many years later, when Frankie thought of the smell of the thick fog making contact with the grass, petrichor, is called, he would recall the time he spent with you on that place, in that time, and he would remember the eerie aura that you had carried with you during your stay, you glowed. It wasn’t like the feeling the rain gave him when he heard it. It was something else, something he couldn’t name, even decades after it happened.

“We’re lost, aren’t we?” you sighed out, looking around you and seeing nothing but thick high pine trees.

Your feet ached because of how long you two had been walking together; Frankie decided the previous day that as you both had your weekend off, maybe some hiking would do you good. He had found a location he liked three and a half hours away from the racket and hustle of the city; he had driven you both in and guided you both inside. The air inside the forest was chilly, the ambient was silent, and at the height you were currently in, a thin layer of fog was roaming and settling right above your heads.

The view was breathtaking, though. The trees made a shelter high above your bodies, the leaves and tweaks and small bushes under your feet were soft, almost mushy, the moss around the tree trunks adorned them in different, formless patterns that you could make out if you were close enough to them, and if you touched them, they whispered the secrets of their host.

It was a weird time in your relationship with Frankie, he had just finished his therapy sessions and he had just recovered his pilot’s license, but he could still get lost into himself at times, he could still sit silent in a room full of people, thinking and thinking and thinking.

He had changed, the Frankie you knew and loved had changed since Santiago had practically dragged him to Colombia for a job. And when they came back, Santiago sent to you pieces of a man, poorly glued together.

Helping Frankie re-build himself was a challenge in itself, first you had to help him find himself among the mess that he was when he came back home. And slowly you had to help cleanse himself from the metaphorical dirt he had carried with him, dirt that was so embedded into his skin; under his nails, behind his ears, entangled in his hair, between his fingers, under his feet, that you had found yourself taking off time from work, and basically life to help him scrub it all off.

All to aid him become himself again. Not lost time. Completely worth it. Because when you had finished helping him, he had looked at you, deep in the eyes, and he had thanked you in the best way he knew how.

But he could still get lost into himself at times.

“No, we are not lost, babe,” Frankie’s voice was low, he was trying to get the map on his hand in some other direction to locate himself.

“Frankie, we are lost,” your hand dropped to his shoulder and he raised his eyes to you, his gaze glistening with the soft light that shone through the pine branches that hovered feet above you, making them look like fine pieces of dried amber, almost hypnotizing.

“Okay yeah, I have no idea where we are,” he sounded resigned to admit it, his shoulders dropped as his head moved so he could take your surroundings in, taking his cap off, brushing his curls back and putting it back on. His eyes for a second got fixated on something far away and you tried to follow the direction his gaze was going, finding nothing but trees, dirt and bushes. His head turned slowly back to you and he left out a sigh when he saw you smile at him.

“What?” Frankie muttered, you bit your lip as you saw his preoccupied quirk, his eyes were trying to find some reassurance in yours, as if he thought you had an answer to a question he had yet to ask.

“We can always walk back from where we came, don’t we?” you suggested, shrugging lightly, trying to get Frankie to loosen up a bit. If he started to freak out, then you knew everything had gone to shit. And you didn’t want that.

Frankie looked at you and he looked behind you at the path you had come from, considering the suggestion.

“I mean, yeah,” his eyes fixated again on something or somewhere and then his brow furrowed, you followed his eyes and yet again, you found nothing but trees, “I jus–what the fuck?” you widened your eyes.

“Frankie?” your voice was as thin and disperse as the fog above you and it seemingly didn’t reach Frankie’s ears, because you had to find your air and put it all in your diaphragm to almost shout at him “Frankie!”

He looked around him slowly, his brown eyes were roaming around trying to locate something, anything and his worried stance and his shocked face made your stomach churn in something closer to fear than expectation.

“I can’t find the way we came from,” he whispered, and you saw the fog slowly turn into a transparent arm and reach to his mouth, eating his voiced words. Delightful, the fog said.

“Don’t play with me,” you pleaded, shivering as you felt as well the fog’s arm feel out the confines of your mouth, tasting your words, not liking them and spitting them on the floor.

Frankie looked at you, his eyes telling you he wasn’t lying, his brows were almost touching each other and his mouth was open in bewilderment, he shook his head slowly a few times and you felt your legs flutter and a heavy weight fall onto your shoulders.

“Look for it,” you mouthed, Frankie saw you breathing heavily and he rushed to you, he dropped his backpack to the floor. His hands on your body felt electrifying. His touch was heavy with preoccupation, his face was quirked in confusion as he guided your breaths in and out, in and out, in and out.

Once the air entered your lungs and exited them as food for the trees around you he tried again to look for the narrowed path you two had walked into the forest.

“C’mon, I think is this way,” he pointed in a random direction and you whined. The fog’s arm rejected it as well, and it fell in front of your feet; you looked at it and found out why the fog didn’t like it, it was stale, incorporeal, bland.

“Are you sure?” your question felt like a prayer and a plea and a beg. Frankie nodded. He wasn’t but he nodded.

Frankie took your hand and turned around to put on his backpack. But the backpack was gone and the ground where it was thrown onto before was ruffling about it.

“Fuck,” he swore and brushed a hand on his forehead to wipe the thin layer of fog that was clinging to his skin, mimicking sweat. “let’s go,” you nodded and gripped his hand as hard as you could, your other hand gripped the shoulder strap of your own backpack and for a second you glanced at the space on the ground that had eaten Frankie’s and it growled softly.

You and Frankie walked for what it felt like hours upon hours upon hours. And you got nowhere. 

At that point the forest looked like a carbon copy of itself, the moss was showing the same secrets and you started to be sad, and angry, and scared, and Frankie noticed and the forest noticed.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Frankie muttered to you, you felt an ever so known and unwelcomed sting in your throat, “I’m so sorry,” his arms found you and he held you close to his chest, he kept muttering apologies. For getting you two lost, for choosing that place, for wanting to hike, for not giving you the time you needed, for making you lose a piece of yourself in the works of putting him together. He was sorry. And you felt it. And the forest felt it too.

You cried, as everything felt like you weren’t going home anytime soon.

And Frankie held you, because he was the only piece of home you had left, and you were the only piece of home he had left.

Your tears escaped your eyes and the fog’s arm feasted on them, and you let it. It was the only delicious thing you could offer to it, anyway.

You didn’t know for how long he had been embracing you and letting you damp his shirt with the tears that the fog’s arm didn’t choose to eat when you heard it.

But you didn’t hear it, you felt it entering your head, roaming around your ears and getting itself settled in your mind. 

A whisper from the forest. It sounded like a tree’s secret, but sadder, needier, stronger, bigger, heavier, darker and lighter.

“I wanna go home,” you whispered out, to him. To Frankie.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he broke the embrace and his hands slid to cup your face, he brought you to him slowly and took your lips in his. 

He kissed you with gentle desperation. His mouth moved at the rhythm of an unheard, newly made up song, chordless, lyricless, soundless; his grasp on your head felt like the silk of the sheets you never lied on, the sound of his tongue sliding into your mouth was lewd and warm and happy and there. You grasped his wrists and held onto him as if he were your home. Not letting you go. Not letting him go. No one was going anywhere.

You kissed for what it felt like hours upon hours upon hours and when he stopped kissing you; you chased his mouth and kissed him again and the songless song began again, and the never owned softness stayed in there, and the ever so present warmness became warmer.

When the air of your lungs faded into the leaves and the pinecones screamed at you and the moss stopped whispering their host’s secrets at the surprise of you kissing for so long, you stopped.

And Frankie’s big, warm, brown eyes felt ever more present, as if they had been there for years and years.

He smiled at you. And you were sure the thin fog that invaded the space faded away because of it.

“You wanna try again?” he asked softly, and you nodded, replying to his smile with one of yours.

So Frankie grabbed your hand again, and you two started walking in whatever direction you two felt like walking.

Soon enough you would be home.

“Oh” Frankie let out, tightening the grip on your hand, you looked at him with anticipation and question in your eyes. His gaze seemed to be fixated on something and you, yet again, followed his eyes, not really expecting to find anything. But you were surprised at what your gaze encountered.

“Wow,” you sighed out. You felt Frankie's eyes on your face and you turned to see him. His eyes bewildered, his smile giddy, contagious, child-like. His. It was him.

“Shall we?” he asked. You nodded enthusiastically, giving him the brightest smile he thought he had ever seen in all his years on the earthly plane.

You had found a house.

A small, old-looking house.

The outside was battered, the pass of the life’s years had darkened its wooden walls, made them look like wrinkles in an old person’s face, the small, squared windows on the front were foggy and covered with white, fine dust and an even thinner layer of mist, it had a small rot-wooden deck, moss and mold and a bright green vine covered the steps. From the spot you were standing at, you could see the way the climbing plants and the secret teller moss adorned the single slope roof. 

Tiny droplets of water that had grasped and clung tenaciously onto the roof edge from the fog that had faded into the sky were succumbing to the gravity and fell onto the floor, sounding like some form of a song you were sure you knew but never heard.

As you two walked hand in hand, you noticed the open door. The house felt old; it felt weak; it felt blight, yet so warm, so bright, so inviting, so welcoming.

So you entered.

Frankie let out a soft gasp at the sight.

The inside was even more tainted.

The walls were partially covered with the remains of a rotten, tattered, poorly kept wallpaper, the color had faded and the only noticeable feature of it was the flower print that seemed to adorn it after years and years of exposure to everything around you.

The wooden floors looked long-lived; some of the wood tiles were cracking, some of them looked sturdy, some others were rotten and there were a few places around where there were no tiles and it was just wet, dark dirt.

You looked at Frankie with a smile adorning your face and he was looking at the ceiling; you looked up as well and saw the wooden beams above you, angled and darkened, some weathered and damp, some robust and dry. They looked relaxed, yet hefty. Soft yet firm. Some of the climbing plants you had seen creeping on the roof had crawled and slithered and found themselves at home in the beams.

It was beautiful.

“C’mon,” you tugged at Frankie's hand and pulled him further inside. He followed close. The first room, the biggest, had on one side a worn out, misted loveseat in the middle of the space and a stone fireplace that the time and the weather and the forest and the fog had taken care of turning green. On the other side there was a small table, topped with fallen leaves from the climbing plants, a wood stove right below a window and a legged stained sink with a copper faucet.

You bit your lip and narrowed your eyes, thinking.

“What?” Frankie asked when he saw your face, you smiled and walked towards the sink, with him following you, with your free hand you reached the faucet handle and twisted it. The pipes started moaning in protest after being awakened so rudely and without notice and then, clear water started pouring from it.

Frankie barked out a laugh. And you smiled at him, your eyes bright and shiny as if the moon was stationed inside them.

You got rid of your backpack and left it on the floor while Frankie washed his hands and cupped them to gather water and drink it, after he finished he left them under the faucet and nodded his chin to them. You leaned down and drank from his hands. The water tasted sweet; it tasted like rain; it tasted like a summer night breeze, and the early days of winter before a snowstorm. It tasted like home.

Frankie’s skin was warm at the touch, despite the outside's brisk temperature. When you finished drinking, your throat happy and satiated, you smiled at him as he twisted the handle to stop the stream of water. You wiped your mouth dry with the sleeve of your shirt and your eyes meandered around the space, taking in the colors of the wood, the small crevices of the teared wallpaper, the way the window adorned herself with tiny specks of dust that formed a thin yet thick white cover all over the glass, and the way Frankie seemed to fit like a puzzle piece in the middle of the room. As if he was part of it. As if he was meant to stand in the middle of the rotten wooden floor, among the fallen leaves of the climbing plants that never seemed to die.

“You’re really pretty,” Frankie muttered, his brown yet amber eyes glistened with the anticipation of what was about to come but you didn’t know yet. The great something-about-to-happen. You smiled at him and his chest fluttered, swollen with the extensive, deep love he had for you.

“Let’s go see the rest,” you suggested, Frankie nodded as he saw your voice eagerly come out of your lips in crescent waves of light, and smiled back at you when you took his hand again, intertwining his fingers with yours, sending his spine a few shocks of loving electricity.

You walked to the center of the big room that functioned as both an impressively functioning kitchen and a rotten living room and at the end, on the wall, there were two doors, both medium tall, dark, mahogany doors, one of them closed, the other halfway open.

Frankie followed you as you tugged gently at his hand, you walked first to the one closed and the doorknob felt like room temperature butter when you twisted it open, it was a plain and simple bathroom, the three essentials, a misty, foggy, dusty mirror on the wall and a misty, foggy, dusty window in front of you, you smiled to yourself when you saw the way the climbing plant was creeping its way inside the room from a little crack on the upper left corner of the window.

Walking back you stepped towards the halfway open door and you pushed it open with two fingers. The hinges howled softly as the door moved to the side and let you enter through it. You scoffed as you saw a double, tubular bed in the middle of the room, the green bedding seemed plush and cozy, it looked like a giant sheet of that secret telling moss that gave you the warm welcome when you were walking towards the house.

Directly next to the bed there was a bigger window, still covered and hidden by the dust and the fog and the white mist that apparently covered every single glass surface around the house, as if it was its job, but it still let the light come through to the room, illuminating it with the smiles of the little sunlight that the trees allowed to enter their space.

In front of the bed there was a dusty mirror, the frame of it was bigger than the glass but fitting, and it reflected the tiny, thin, imperceptible sun rays that the window happily let through.

The room felt colder than the bigger space outside and you didn’t like it.

“Let’s take that outside, it feels like a freezer here,” Frankie said and you nodded. Both of you walked and each one grabbed an edge of the bedding. You looked at Frankie with your eyebrows raised and asked without asking if he was feeling the same thing around your hands.

The sheet felt like velvet and moss and the single petal of a rose that fell on a table when you put its owner on a small vase, it felt soft as the whispers of love you would give Frankie when he slipped inside of you, soft as the whispers of the forest you had heard earlier, but happier, relaxed, lovelier.

Frankie then looked through the window and he narrowed his eyes a bit.

“I think the sun is about to set, baby,” he mumbled, you agreed with him without looking at the window “come on, we have to rest.”

You two walked outside the room with the thick sheet on your hands and let it fall carelessly on the floor of the rotten living room, between the tattered loveseat and the green stone fireplace.

You felt Frankie’s hand leave yours and find its place on your waist, soothing you even when you didn’t need to be soothed. Caressing you, knowing you always wanted to be caressed.

You turned your head to see him and he reached in to grab your lips in his, his mouth tasted sweet and earthy, his lips told you what he was thinking without saying it and you turned around so your bodies could talk to each other.

“I love you,” he inserted in your mouth the words without having to break the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the curls that escaped eagerly from his cap and your skin felt like it was melting and mixing with his, your scents got to know each other again and for a brief, brief moment, it felt like you were floating several inches from the floor.

A soft crack above you interrupted your kiss and you and Frankie turned your heads up to follow the sound, one of the ceiling beams was moving, slowly. Frankie moved you gently, pushing your waist and you stood there, watching how the middle of it cracked itself open from two different points. The soft noises the wood made as it opened itself sounded like an egg hatching, you narrowed your eyes when the cracking stopped and then, a single, almost perfectly squared piece of the ceiling beam fell to the floor, landing next to your feet with a soft thud.

Frankie let go of your waist and leaned down to pick the piece of wood up with curious eyes.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered to himself and to you.

“What?” you questioned, narrowing your eyes in amusement at his soft expression and his small smile.

Frankie then reached inside the beam and slowly pulled out a thin, small purple flower.

“Oh,” you gasped, covering your mouth with one hand, Frankie, ever so delicately finished taking out the flower from the wood with everything and roots and admired it closer, smiled to himself and then gave it to you.

“Una flor para otra flor,” (a flower for another) he whispered and you both chuckled, taking the small flower from his fingers.

“So fucking cheesy,” you teased, reaching to his cheek to cup his face with your other hand, brushing softly over his patchy beard with your thumb, taking in the sight of your boyfriend’s face, the dimmed light that the windows allowed to get through them gave him an aura of safety and his skin seemed like it was sparkling.

You looked down to the small flower, still cupping his face, and you smiled at the way the purple petals danced on the stem, stirring as if the wey stretching after a long while dormant and encapsulated inside the wood of the beam. You brought it to your nose and the petals brushed the tip of it as you inhaled softly the scent of its core.

The flower smelled like the garden of your childhood home, like the perfume that your grandma used. It smelled like the mixed berries Frankie liked to munch standing in front of the open fridge in the middle of the night, it smelled like the dream you had the night Frankie came home after Colombia and that you couldn’t wipe out from your head.

You looked back at Frankie; he was grinning at the way the flower seemed to hug your nose as you smelled it.

“What?” you asked him, reciprocating his smile. He shook his head. Nothing. He inserted in your mind without parting his lips. You slid your hand to his neck and pulled him softly to you, he reached out, knowing what you wanted. Frankie always knew what you wanted.

When his lips brushed yours, you lifted your other hand and pushed the small flower between your mouths.

Frankie let out a chuckle at the action and sighed into your mouth when the flower opened up its petals to kiss you both back.

You let the flower fall to the floor when Frankie’s hands found their home on your waist again and pulled you to him, bringing you flush to his broad chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

Frankie’s lips tasted like the flower’s pollen and a faint hint of the fog that had tasted his words

His lips stole a moan from your throat as he used his tongue to open yours and you both heard the way the flower imitated your moan on her newfound place on the floor, making you both smile at the soft, almost imperceptible sound.

The air became warmer, thicker with all the love that exuded from your bodies. You both heard the secret teller moss yell at the way he was kissing you so the forest found out and it made you incredibly proud to have a man like him devouring your lips ever so softly.

“Make love to me, Frankie,” you whispered on his lips, carefully reaching into his throat and pulling out a soft groan out of it with your words. He just nodded in response and slowly guided your body to kneel on the sheet and kept kissing you.

Your mind reeled at the way Frankie used his lips to make you feel safe, protected, loved, cared for. By the way he, with a few movements of his lips, could make you feel like you had been kissing him and kissing him and kissing him for years and years and years.

Frankie’s hands roamed around your waist and the small of your back, without hurry they got under your shirt and you sighed at the warmness, soft roughness of his touch on your skin, you took his cap off and let it fall on the floor, next to the flower.

The flower crawled towards the cap as you continued praying against Frankie’s lips and snuggled next to the brim.

He broke the kiss, and you felt a gentle, faint breeze cover your body when Frankie took off your shirt, it felt as if it was caressing you softly, and it made the hairs on your skin rise.

Frankie stole your kiss again and hands trailed to cup your tits over the fabric of your bra and you let out a low whimper when he teased your nipples over it. You slid your hands from his neck to his chest and worked slowly to unbutton his plaid shirt. Your feathery touch on his warm, sun kissed skin made him moan softly, and the flower mimicked the sound again.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured on your lips when you made him take off the shirt. You smiled on his kiss, with him on you, on any part of you, you always believed him.

His lips traveled down to your chin, where he left a soft bite and ripped another soft moan out of you.

As you helped him to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans, Frankie liked a stripe of skin from your chin to your neck and you smiled, your eyes were closed when his plush lips started nibbling at your tender, fog tasted flesh and once his belt was unbuckled and his pants were unbuttoned, he slid them down.

“Take off yours, baby,” he whispered, you bit your lip and did it; you undressed as he did and once you were completely naked, bared and vulnerable in front of him, he stopped his own movements to admire your body, “gorgeous.” the word slipped from his lips like thick, raw honey and fell onto the blanket, smearing on it, the fabric sensed it and absorbed the word and your eyes, as he reached for your naked waist, saw it disappear inside it.

Frankie brought you to him once again and his kisses fell on your skin like soft, summer rain; warm and light and all over you; your hands found themselves caressing any part of his body they could reach, making him drop little moans and whimpers on your skin, marking it, leaving it tainted with the soft noises that he produced as you enjoyed the softness of his body.

He laid you down on the sheet and it made itself cushioned under you, it was fresh, comfortable, soft and stirred ever so slightly under your body; it made you shiver softly.

Frankie’s lips went down your neck, his warm, soft tongue played with your nipples as his hands roamed up and down your torso, you buried your fingers inside his curls; scratched his scalp gently with your nails, making him grunt against your breast.

“Frankie,” you whispered out, his name floating all the way up like an inflated balloon and crashing onto the wooden beams with an unhearable thud, Frankie hummed in response with his mouth worshipping your other breast, his beard making the most gentle burns onto your skin “eat me.” you begged, closing your eyes when he smirked against the tender, already sensitive flesh of your chest.

Without saying more words his kissed trailed down your body, several of them on your lower abdomen, you chuckled and opened your eyes, lifting your head to look at him; Frankie was already looking at you; his deep, brown and amber looking eyes telling you without hesitance what he wanted, what he had been asking for months and months and months. You threw your head back on the sheet with a smile adorning your face as he took your thighs and gently opened them up for him; his face buried inside you and he inhaled the scent of your deepest corner.

With kitten licks, Frankie started tasting you; making you moan when his tongue went deeper, he opened you further and buried his tongue inside you, prompting a groan out of you; guttural, soft. Frankie smiled against your folds, proud and enamoured of the sounds he was making you produce.

Your hand pushed him further deeper inside you, Frankie eagerly opened his mouth around your core and started sucking and licking and nibbling and tasting. You threw your head to the side and your heavy lids opened just enough for you to look at the small purple flower that was snuggled right next to the seam of Frankie’s cap. It was lying on the floor almost lazily, its roots were stirring and stretching and you smiled at it; it was feeling it too.

Frankie’s fingers found your entrance and pushed inside, starting to curl and press and push to the sides and upwards, making you lift your back off the sheet and hatch your hips on his face, you moaned as he pulled his fingers out and in again at a tantalizing rhythm he knew you loved; his lips nibbled at your clit and his tongue teased at it in synchrony with his fingers, you let out a long moan and Frankie groaned against your core. The vibrations of his voice against your tender, swollen pussy made you stiffen and hold your breath, you gasped when he sucked at your clit rather hoarsely and the air that left your lungs through your lips traveled like a feather falling through the air and fell directly on the purple flower.

Frankie sucked and curled his fingers inside you and you rolled your hips against his face, he had built a coil inside you that was getting warmer and warmer with each wet lick on you; your hand fisted his hair and as the coil snapped in half, you pulled it, making Frankie grunt against you. He helped you ride your orgasm and as you came down from one of the highest climaxes he had made you feel in what it felt like years and years and years, he crawled slowly upwards between your legs, covering you with his body.

“Hey,” he whispered above your face, you opened your eyes and smiled when you saw his eyes, those beautiful eyes of his inches from you “you okay?” he asked. You nodded and cupped his slick covered face with both your hands, closing the distance between your mouths and tasting yourself in the process of devouring his lips.

Frankie whimpered at the depth of your kiss and when he broke it, you heard the slightest of sounds; a yelp that sounded both from afar and up close. You turned to the side at the same time and you let out a soft chuckle when you saw the purple flower standing. Its roots well planted into the wood tiles of the floor. An almost imperceptible coat of transparent slick covered its petals.

You turned to Frankie and he smiled at you, falling onto your lips once more.

Your hands wrapped themselves around his neck and your legs opened up for him to brush the underside of his duck against your wet folds; you shivered, feeling the way he was throbbing for you.

“I love you.” he whispered without whispering and you rolled your hips closer to him. He slid inside of you with any other intervention than the sole need you had for each other; he moaned softly against your mouth as his hips started thrusting inside you at a gentle pace you didn’t know he was capable of going at.

You stopped kissing him and pulled his body to rest on yours; one of his hands rested on your hip as the other moved to frame your head and he ground into you slowly; deeply; harder while his rhythm wasn’t strong.

Frankie hid his face in the crook of your neck and you wrapped your legs around his waist, changing the angle for both, you moaned when his cock started grazing a soft spot inside you that made you close your eyes and see the stars up close.

“More.” you heard a voice that wasn’t yours but sounded like you, and Frankie whined against your skin, licking you. He picked up the rhythm and went faster enough so you gushed around him and the noise of him pumping inside you inundated the room; as he drove into you and your throat made the most sweet and soft noises he swore he had ever heard you make, you heard the fog creeping into the house; it slithered in through the small openings the creeping plants were watching you make love from. You felt the weight of the fog falling on top of you and when it covered you whole, Frankie started pounding into you.

“Oh, god.” you moaned out. Frankie held you in place with a hand on your head and another on your waist and went impossibly faster, the noises that your skins made when they clashed together were being muffled by the fog, whose arm formed once more and caressed you both in places you wouldn’t let anyone else touch.

You heard another yelp from afar and your eyes looked for it in the purple flower, but it had turned its back to you and you noticed how, from the seams of the wood tiles on the floor, little purple nubs and buds started growing.

You gasped when Frankie changed the angle, sliding in and out faster than before, hitting your g-spot with more strength, and your breath hitched when he started grunting inside your neck. You turned your head to the other side and saw more of the purple buds. Some of them were opening already, and you felt your eyes water when you saw several small, slick covered purple flowers stretching their petals to the ceiling.

A deep, particular thrust of Frankie into you made your legs tremble. He started kissing your neck and your jaw and your chin, still driving into you at that murdering pace of his you had never felt before. You felt his beard tickling your skin, and you grew aware of every inch of sweaty, fog covered skin you owned; when he kissed your lips and ate the small moans you didn’t realize you were letting out, you grew aware of everything that rested inside your body, and you felt it move, grow, swell and deflate at the same time.

“Frankie,” you whispered against his lips, his cock driving into you and making you squirm beneath him “Frankie.” you gasped, his mouth trapped yours and you felt him throb inside your cunt.

“You’re here.” he muttered against your lips. The sudden, overwhelming emotion of being wrapped around him made you cum almost immediately with your eyes closed shut and your mouth opened at the fog’s mercy, that ate your moans with fervency.

Frankie slid in and out of you for more time than he had ever done before after your orgasms, he was whispering to you words you didn’t understand; you felt your eyes shed the tears they had held as you came at the sight of all the nubs and buds opening as Frankie thrusted into you. All of them opened as beautiful, small, slick covered purple flowers; carbon copies of the one he had found inside the piece of beam and gifted to you.

“They’re ours,” you gasped, Frankie hummed in affirmation, his brow furrowed in concentration, his mouth agape, his breath hitting your face, you cupped his face. “let go,” you whispered to him, caressing the flush skin of his face. “it’s enough, let go.”

Frankie moaned out and grunted, locking his hips with his cock fully inside you as he filled you with himself as deep as he could. He opened his eyes once the last drop of his seed was poured into you and gazed at you.

“How are they?” he asked, panting and trying to recover from his orgasm.

“They’re beautiful.” you replied with a teary smile, Frankie kissed you softly and turned his head to the sides, still inside you, looking at all the precious, tiny purple flowers that surrounded you.

“They’re ours.” he said with a smile adorning his face.

__

“Where the fuck have you been?!” the scream Santiago let out made you flinch, and you fisted and gripped Frankie's dampened clothes. His hold on your body tightened, and you felt another errant tear escape from your eyes.

“Pope.” Frankie could only let out that sole word, his throat was closed shut and the only thing that was keeping him from falling knees first onto the floor was your body and your need to be supported so you didn’t fall to the floor as well.

“Fish, what the fuck, man?” Santiago frowned at the look you two were carrying; your clothes were soaked wet and dirty, your hair was dripping muddy water. Frankie had wet knots on his hair and for Santiago it was odd looking at him without his cap on. You were shaking and almost climbing onto Frankie’s body.

Frankie didn’t answer. Santi looked at your feet and neither of you were wearing shoes.

“C’mon, c’mon in,” he stepped to the side and Frankie whispered in your ear to move, but he ended up almost carrying you inside. “you need a shower,” Santiago muttered when the both of you got inside and the swampy smell that clung to you brushed his nose. Frankie nodded and slowly walked inside Sant’s home towards the bathroom “Fish,” he heard the voice of his best friend behind him and stopped walking, not bothering to turn around “man, it’s been a year, where were you?”

You sobbed into Frankie’s shoulder and lifted your head to look at Santiago, who frowned when he looked into your bloodshot eyes.

“Living.” you whispered out, missing the fog’s arm, that was not there to eat at your words.

__

After a thirty-minute shower; in which both of you sat on the shower’s floor and Frankie attempted to unknot your hair as gently as he could while you shared furtive glances, feathery touches, kisses of understanding and heavy; painful tears, you were sitting on Santiago’s dining table wrapped in his clothes and a blanket, gripping each other’s hands as hard as you could.

“Where were you?” Santi asked, his voice soft, his eyes on you and the way Frankie didn’t seem to separate an inch from you.

“The forest.” Frankie muttered. Santiago sighed and tried to look away from you.

“For a year?” he let out in an incredulous whisper.

“It didn’t feel like a year.” you murmured, your voice thin as a thread, your eyes on Frankie’s side, you leaned to rest your head on his shoulder.

“What do you mean it didn’t feel like a year?” Santiago raised his voice and immediately caught himself and tried to calm down “we were about to pronounce you dead,” he tightened his jaw and his finger pressed on the wood of the table, you smirked at the parallels; his finger almost looked like Soleil, the first flower that you and Frankie gave birth to “both of you.”

“You wouldn’t get it, Santi.” you whispered, looking at him from Frankie’s shoulder.

“Explain it to me, then.” he said, crossing his arms on his chest, Frankie let out a huff.

“No.” Frankie said.

“We got lost,” you started. Frankie stiffened next to you and turned to the side to face you; he looked at your pleading face and with his eyes asked you if you were sure. You cupped his face, scratched his short beard and nodded ever so slightly; missing the way he would slip his words inside your mind when he didn’t feel like talking, “we got lost in the forest.” you said, still looking at Frankie.

Santiago stirred in his chair. He had never seen you do that, look into each other’s eyes so profoundly it felt like you two were sharing not only the same air, but the same brain; the same heart.

“And we found a house,” you turned to see him, teary-eyed and a soft smile adorning your face. Frankie hid his face inside the crook of your neck and breathed in deeply, your hand caressing his nearly knot-free hair. “and we stayed there.”

“For a year?” Santiago deepened his frown, you huffed and shook your head gently.

“For a week.” you whispered.

Santiago stood up from the chair and closed his eyes, he scratched his beard for a few seconds and turned to you.

“How?” you shrugged.

“We tried to make sense of it as we walked home,” you muttered. Santiago noticed how your eyes got lost in the space between you and him. “we don’t look like a year has passed, right?” you blinked a few times and focused on him. He shook his head “we were supposed to stay there until the sunrise, we just got lost.”

“What made you stay a week?” he asked, hesitantly.

You choked down a sob and felt Frankie’s hand slip out of your entanglement. He wrapped his arms around you.

“The babies.” he let out, his voice deep, his tone hurt. Santiago closed his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and index.

“What babies?” he whispered out. Frankie scoffed at his friend’s reaction.

“Ours.” you let out.

Santiago sat down again and you felt yourself stiffen with the memory of them.

Frankie started talking, but his voice sounded far off and distorted. 

Your mind could only focus on the hundred little flowers that were born out of you and Frankie, on how they would make space for you and him to walk around them, on how, if you stopped, they would wrap themselves around your feet, burying them with their soft petals and bathing you in their pollen.

You felt your throat clench at the memory of them waking you up in the mornings as your limbs were wrapped around Frankie’s body, of their smallest voices laughing at his bad jokes or at them bathing in the sheer sunlight that entered through the windows.

They were yours.

They were yours and Frankie’s.

“They died.” Frankie let out with a shaky breath. You felt your face wet with the tears your memories had brought to your eyes and Santiago looked at you; his face quirked in worry, his eyes wet with sympathy.

“How?” Santi dared to ask.

“A storm.” Frankie let out.

You buried your face in his shoulder and cried.

Frankie looked to the seamless ceiling of Santiago’s home and felt his chest turn and burn at the sound of your sobs.

The morning they died, Frankie woke up by the sound of a loud thunder that shook the house; he gripped your body absentmindedly, the memory of the hard rain burning inside his mind made him reach to you, he didn’t like the sound of pounding rain. He loathed it, but you were sleeping next to him and your body was giving him the warmth he didn’t have before.

You were woken up by the second thunder that made the flowers shake their pollen off in fear.

The two of you were naked and the dreadful sound of big drops of water made you sit on the blanket. You turned to look at each other just as the rumbling of another thunder made the misty, foggy, dusty windows shackle on their frames.

At the fourth roar of another thunder several windows broke and the sharp curl of sturdy wind came through the windows, you screamed to him and you dressed quickly and went to look for anything to cover the broken windows.

You tore the blanket apart in several pieces to cover some of the now opened windows, rushing to stop the ferocious wind from coming inside the house, but the storm was strong and gripped at the pieces, snatching them away from your hands every time you tried to use them as a barrier.

Frankie yelled at you to try to use the parts of the loveseat that you had moved to the middle of the kitchen space, and when you tried the deafening, thunderous sound of a sky-tearing thunder made the front door fly open and the rain to flood in.

You were soaked to the bone and you looked down at your feet; the flowers were trying to climb up to your calves but failed each time. The water started streaming into the house from invisible tears on the ceiling and the water level was rising quicker than either of you would’ve liked.

“They’re drowning!” you gasped, covering your mouth with your eyes to prevent from scaring them more than they already were; the tears you knew you were shedding had mixed with the rowdy water that came from each broken window. Frankie acted out of his own fears, he frowned and kneeled on the floor, trying to pick them up, but each time he picked up some, they fainted on his hand. “stop!” you yelled at him. He did it again, not listening to your pleas. You rushed to him and pulled him back “you’re killing them!”

“They’re already dying!” he yelled back at you, his eyes reddened and his jaw tensed in pain. You pulled him back again when he tried to pick up more. “stop!” he yelled, pushing you away from him “let me save them!”

“You can’t!” you screamed at him under another thunder that made the ceiling crack, both of you looked at the beams trying to hold together but they swell with water and were about to give in “Frankie!” you called him, he stood up and took your hand in his.

“Let’s go!” you nodded and let out a sob when you saw the purple petals of the flowers floating on the muddy water, lifeless. Frankie pulled you towards the open door and forced you to run out.

Your feet landed on puddles of swampy water that were ankle deep and you gripped Frankie’s hand as he pulled you away from the house; he tried to regulate his own breathing, the feeling of mud burying his bare feet reminded him too much of another time in his life he didn't want or liked to remember, the rain fell on your bodies like needles and stuck to your clothes, tainting them with a green, dirt color that made you feel disgusting.

You walked together for what felt like hours upon hours upon hours; the secret telling moss was dead as well; the floor that had eaten Frankie’s backpack was flooded with the sharp water that fell from the sky. Corpses of bushes and moss and bugs and birds floating around your legs. It smelled like life. It reminded Frankie of war.

“And then we got out of the forest.” Frankie sniffed out.

Santiago was looking at the both of you with sympathy and pain in his eyes. He stood up from his chair and walked around the table. He stood behind you and wrapped his arms around the both of you.

“I’m so sorry.”

You sobbed out louder.

__

Many years later, when Frankie thought of the smell of the thick fog making contact with the grass, petrichor, is called, he would recall the time he spent with you on that place, in that time, and he would remember the eerie aura that you had carried with you during your stay; that aura that wrapped your naked body and that followed you wherever you walked to, you glowed.

Whenever you played with the flowers, or their tiny petals wrapped themselves around his fingers and you let out the lightest, freest, most liberating of laughs; you shimmered.

You never knew what happened or why it did; at nights, when you wrapped yourself around his body and he held you in place so you wouldn’t slip away from him, you talked about it, always coming to the same conclusion right before falling asleep. It was real.

And the love you had for each other grew because of it. And the love you felt for your babies existed. And the feeling of peace that it made you feel was still there.

It wasn’t like the feeling the hard rain gave him when he heard it. It was something else, something he couldn’t name, even decades after it happened.

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