#oh also i grabbed the wine bc i thought you were supposed to have red wine w pasta

[wolverinedoctorwho]

God I wish I'd written down what I used in this sauce. Eyeballed measurements of spices mean I keep Flowers For Algernoning my meals

#food #i forget if i had a food tag #anyway. from what i remember it was more cream cheese n less butter. seasonings had salt pepper onion powder cajun seasoning msg and parsel #milk too obv. butter cream cheese milk Parm are the basic ingredients of an alfredo (at least the kind i like) #the msg was an experiment and i dont know if it stands out well enough to know if it was worth it but it does leave an aftertaste #could have used a smidge more cajun i think. or just pepper #but adjusting the radio of butter to cream cheese means my sauce is EXTREMELY thick and rich #oh also i grabbed the wine bc i thought you were supposed to have red wine w pasta #but the bitter wine does nothing to soothe the salt from the pasta so instead i am slightly dying #i forge on tho #drunk rambles

[arethereanyoriginalusernames]

Memento Mori, Memento Vivere

Art, characters and story made by me.

Disclaimer: this story talks about death. And may give someone an existential crisis. It also deals with talking someone down from self-deletion bc… I was kinda working some shit out. Also some transphobia from awful people being awful

————————————-

The day I awoke, I brought the end upon the world. Dreams and aspirations laid to waste. Entire lineages cut short.

And the world? Oh, it feared me. It only spoke of me in hushed whispers. It clutched its pearls and trembled in its boots.

The world dubbed me as the inevitable evil come to destroy life itself.

The world named me Death.

——————

“WAKE UP, YOU DOG!”

The screaming and the pounding at the door was truly enough to wake the dead, as the Grim Reaper finally stirred. Blurry eyed and in a hungover stupor, he stumbled over chairs and discarded empty wine bottles towards a small, dirty mirror on the wall. Ignoring the commotion at the door, he inspected himself, pushing back his hair a bit, and contemplating his thoughts on his facial hair. Was it alright? Did it need a trim? Such important things to consider…

“DON’T THINK I WON’T COME IN THERE, REAPER! YOU ARE NOT THE ONE IN POWER HERE! BY ORDER OF THE CROWN…!”

His eye twitched with annoyance, and he finally made his way to the door, being sure to grab his scythe along the way. He kicked the door open, revealing a red-faced, weaselly looking Judge behind it. Enraged, pale eyes soon adopted a look of poorly hidden terror, as they gazed into the face of Death himself.

The demon hid his amusement behind a mask of annoyance as he made a point to tower over the Judge. The Judge, trembling in his militaristic, official looking garb, did his best to maintain an aggressive facade.

“Our stocks! Have diminished again! You have exactly 10 seconds to explain what you’ve done, you… you…!”

“And what exactly am I supposed to have done, exactly?” The reaper intentionally dropped his voice into a growl, and he watched the Judge squirm in discomfort.

“What else?” The Judge’s shriek of a voice echoed throughout the halls, “For the last time, Morteus, you are here in service to the Crown and that! Is! Final! You ought to consider yourself grateful that we don’t just leave you to rot in a cellar! You pompous, unsophisticated…”

“… did I remember to put pants on? I hope I did. That would be embarrassing… I wonder how many people die every day without their pants on?” It wasn’t difficult to drown out the snotty voice yelling at him. Frankly, these days, Morteus’ thoughts were perhaps the most amusing thing he had. That and making life utter hell for anyone who stepped foot in this place. What even was this place? Supposedly it was a castle, but it felt more like a bunker. A dark, cold and miserable place filled with miserable people.

Perhaps he should feel humiliated. After all, he was Death itself. What on any plane of existence was he doing here?

————-

What differs a man from a common fly? Obviously, there is the drastically different physical appearance, but beyond that… what difference is there?

Flies are so minuscule in the grand scheme of things. They live just to eat, procreate, then die. And while a man might have more aspirations and ambitions than a fly… all those intelligent species in the world, be they human, elf or fairy… they are all no different than flies.

Even the very sound of civilization. The hum of people talking, singing, walking, interacting… I once found it so distinctive I could recognize it anywhere.

But now… it sounds no different than the buzzing of insects.

—————

“- And this will not be the last time you hear from me about this, you understand?”

The Judge stood proud before Morteus, wagging a finger in the face, like the demon was some sort of pet or a child. The sight snapped Morteus out of his thoughts, and he stared down at the Judge, emotionless.

The weaselly man smirked a smug smile, certain he had truly stuck it to that troublesome demon. He turned to march down the hall in victory, when something made him freeze. A deep, imposing sound begun to fill the air and shake the walls. It sounded like a rumble or a growl, and the Judge slowly turned around to face the source of the noise.

“You! Wh-What do you think you’re-“

“Bwah-HA-HAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!”

The Grim Reaper exploded with laughter, doubling over and leaning on the door frame for support. He waved a finger towards the Judge, struggling to form words as tears crept into his eye. The Judge stood frozen with an indignant look on his face.

“What in the name of the gods has gotten into you, you insufferable-“

“YOU LOOK LIKE AN ANGRY CHICKEN!”

Morteus fell back into his room, barely able to contain himself as the offended Judge stormed away. It took a good ten minutes before the demon finally stopped laughing and hauled himself back to his feet.

“Eh… Bored now.” He swung his door open with a crash, likely breaking the hinges again. He sauntered down the long tin corridors that made up his prison, looking for something that could amuse him. Or perhaps even someone…

“Wait… that sounds weird. Like I’d be hiring a clown or something. And I don’t even like clowns… If you popped a clown’s nose, would that kill them? I wonder how many clowns die everyday?”

Being so wrapped up in such very important questions, he almost didn’t hear the commotion nearby.

It sounded like voices. Two very angry and snotty sounding voices. Morteus paused and leaned towards the noise to listen closer. He already knew who those voices belonged to, the Judge’s bratty and spoiled sons. That wasn’t what he was listening for. He was listening for the sound of someone else.

—————

… Have I gone mad? I watch fires consume towns, people burn alive, yet I feel nothing. I pay witness to plagues and watch the inflicted shrivel up until their bodies can take no more. I feel for those people how one would towards an ant drowning in a mug of water.

Memento Mori.

Such a simple concept. Yet I am always met with hostility, tears, pleads, bargains, denial. Why? Even my own kind look at me with fear. “Death” has become an unspoken horror, and I am its harbinger. Yet I do not understand how.

And this… numbness I have. Something feels off. As if I should not feel this way. Lately, this numbness has started to change. I am starting to feel anger, frustration, bitterness. I am Death, but what does that even mean?

————-

“Clean it up, you dim-witted whore!”

The finely dressed pair of young men laughed as one tossed another cup of hot tea onto the floor, narrowly missing the cloaked figure on the floor, cleaning on hands and knees. The figure paused as the cup shattered on the ground, but said nothing, and continued to clean.

The two men continued to laugh and jeer at the figure, pushing harder and harder, gleefully waiting to see them break.

A minute passed. Then another.

And one of the men seemed to grow impatient with the lack of reaction.

He strolled over, stuck a sweaty hand under the hood and roughly pulled the figure up by the hair. The hood fell away, no longer hiding the enraged expression underneath. This elicited hoots of laughter, and soon both men were tugging at their victim like dog’s fighting over a bone.

“Still got a bit of a temper, eh?” Said one.

“Have you tried smiling? Women are so much prettier when they smile!” Said the other.

“Well, what do we have here?”

One of the men pulled something out of the figure’s pocket, and held it to the light. The figure made a grab for it, only to be held back by the other man. Both tormentors looked at their prey with sadistic grins.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing with a syringe?”

“Not a proper thing for a lady to carry around!”

“We should report this to our father immediately! Imagine, a pardoned spy and proven liar carrying around a syringe!”

“Tsk, tsk. What do you think she’ll do this time? Claim to be some sort of doctor?”

“Oh good, you found my spider venom!”

The two men spun around and went white with terror. Looming over them, scythe balanced casually on his shoulders, was none other than the Grim Reaper.

Morteus stared down at the two and calmly raised a hand to scratch at the side of his face where his skull was exposed. The sound of nails on bone sent shivers up the men’s spines. They looked at each other, wide eyed, and dropped the cloaked figure. They then started to back away, making whatever excuses they could before running off.

Morteus picked up the syringe from the floor where it had been dropped. He could barely offer it back to its rightful owner when it was snatched away.

“Would You be careful?! I’ve told you countless times, don’t hold it by the needle!”

There it was. The voice he had been hoping to hear. The one person who made endless hours of misery worth it.

“Hey Wasp! I was hoping t-“ A hand over the mouth cut him off.

“Gods, Morteus, I’ve already been dealing with those two for hours! I don’t need to get into any more trouble!”

“Hmhmhnhngmhfff!”

Wasp sighed and removed his hand. “What was that?”

“I said, sure thing Harpy. My bad. Whose Wasp? Is that one of my bug friends?”

Wasp let out an exasperated sigh. “Just get me out of here. Whatever excuse you need to come up with.”

The demon let out a snort of laughter, “I don’t need an excuse. I’m the Grim Reaper. C’mon!” With that he took his friend by the arm and dragged him along in a way that seemed forceful, but wasn’t. Wasp faked a look of fear and anxiety as he was pulled into Morteus’ room.

—————

I sought answers. Answers to my purpose, my very existence. I screamed to the gods, screamed for someone to explain what the point of any of this was. All I wanted was to understand. And I got my wish.

That was the night Death itself died.

—————-

Once inside with the door closed, Wasp snapped his fingers, shattering the illusion around him and “Harpy”, the downtrodden “female” servant was no more. He went towards the mirror to tie back his hair when he noticed Morteus in the reflection, looking at him.

“… is there a probl-“

“Dude, it’s just like, so cool you can do that!”

“Illusions? Morteus, you’ve seen me use them a million times by now.”

“Ok yeah, but it’s still cool. Like really cool. Like really really-“

“Thank you, Morteus. I get the picture.”

Despite being cut off, Morteus still couldn’t help thinking about all the things he found interesting about his friend. Such as him being a fairy, the fact he was once in the military as a medic, the fact that he could throw Morteus across a room. The last one especially, since he would not have expected that out of someone who only came up to the base of his neck.

“Oh yeah, and that one time, when he punched me in the face. It was awesome.”

Morteus fell onto his bed, causing massive creaks and groans from the shoddily made frame. Wasp soon came to sit beside him, cautiously keeping to the edges in case Morteus actually broke the thing.

“So… what did you do this time?”

“Wha?”

“Almost everyone heard you and the Judge earlier. What did you do?”

“Oh that. I drank all his booze.”

“Morteus!”

The fairy predictably scolded him, and once again Morteus simply drifted off into his thoughts. But not out of annoyance or boredom. He just listened to his friend talk. It was nice.

Sure, it wasn’t nice having Wasp annoyed with him, but in a strange way… he liked to see it. He liked to see him act so… alive.

———-

It was late evening when I invited this person to my room. It was strange. I never spoke to people, really. Yet this one caught my eye. Or… ear maybe?

I’m sure my past lives have met doctors, but I’m starting to think not even they ever met someone who knew so much about preserving life. It was fascinating to listen to him talk about how to heal people, how to save them… I didn’t understand a Damn bit of it, but it was interesting. And he was interesting. He didn’t have many stories to share, and he hadn’t really “lived” really. But I didn’t mind.

In a way, it felt like I was meeting someone opposite of me. Someone who could give What I would take away. Finding him was like finding a sprout in an otherwise dead wasteland.

Maybe that’s why when he tried to take his own life… something was different. I don’t remember all my lives, but I know that death always comes. And yet, this time… all I knew was that death didn’t have to come tonight.

————

“Hey Wasp? Ever heard of Memento Mori?”

There was a pause, and the question seemed to surprise Wasp. Perhaps because he hadn’t expected anything remotely philosophical to come out of Morteus, who, frankly, had the brain of a gnat most of the time.

“I… well yes, I have. Remember that you are going to die…” he looked over at Morteus inquisitively, “Why?”

Morteus shrugged, “Past life shit. Pretty sure my past selves believed a lot in that phrase.”

There was silence before Wasp spoke again.

“Do you agree with them? Your past selves?”

“Dunno. I guess I don’t really feel anxious about the end or anything…”

“I always thought the phrase was about reflection.”

Morteus furrowed his brow, puzzled. “Reflection? I thought it was just ‘accept that you’ll die’”

“Well…” the fairy hesitated, “you could see it that way. But I rather see it as a way to remind yourself how precious life is. If it must end, why not make the most of it. I think that’s part of why I see my work as dedicated my life to serve and help others.”

Wasp waited for Morteus to answer, but was met with silence instead. When he looked over, the Reaper appeared to be in some sort of daze. Instinctively, Wasp took his shoulder and snapped his fingers near his ear to elicit some response.

Morteus could hear Wasp calling his name but it sounded muffled, and everything seemed to go dark.

————

It was an image I’d never forget in this lifetime. Seeing him with a blade to his throat, denouncing himself as nothing more than a cowardly deserter who got what he deserved. And even after I pulled the blade away from him, he only fought back. I know I shouldn’t have felt anything. I barely knew him, and I’ve already seen people die before… then it happened.

I didn’t understand it at the time, but it happened. What I always experience in all my lives. It’s always been near the end, when I realize how long I have left. When the end comes for me. But this was different.

For once, it wasn’t my death that made me finally understand.

Understand why so many would curse death and run away from it. Understand how much hurt it can cause.

We must all remember that we will die…

But we must also remember to live.

Memento Vivre.

I grabbed his face, and what came next were words I never thought I’d say. He never got to live a life he had chosen. And he wasn’t like me. If he were to die now, he would never get to see what life could be. I begged him to live, begged to see him become his own person. And if he needed my help to do so… I was more than happy to oblige. To me he wouldn’t be coward for choosing not to die. Choosing to live was the bravest thing anyone could do.

The rain was pouring down, and we could barely see each other anymore. But I stayed with him. He placed his hand over mine, and I heard him say something. It was a language I didn’t understand but I knew what it meant. Thank you.

And through the raindrops, I saw him smile for the first time.

….

I don’t recall all my memories. And I know in my next life, I’ll forget a lot of what “Morteus” experienced…

But I pray to any gods that will hear me, that I will never forget this…

——————

“M…teus?”

“Morteus!”

“HOLY FUCK!”

Morteus woke up to Wasp leaning over him. He immediately jolted up, which knocked the two of them onto the floor, with Morteus falling heavily on top of Wasp.

“!! Gods, Morteus, are you trying to give me a concussion?!” Wasp started to push the Reaper off, then noticed him shaking his head and blinking. “… Are you alright?”

Morteus looked down at Wasp like he only just noticed him there. “Wasp?”

“Yes? Is something-“

“I LOVE YOU!”

Without a pause, Morteus rushed out of the room, laughing triumphantly over his new realization….

Leaving a very confused Wasp on the floor, trying to figure out what brain injury the Grim Reaper could be suffering from.

[amimimi]

sk8 boys would reacting to you pulling them in by their belt

synopsis: you pulling the sk8 babes in by their belts for a kiss

pairings: joe x reader, cherry x reader, reki x reader, langa x reader

warnings: kissing, suggestive themes, swearing

notes: not me just seeing this tiktok trend ...but thoughts are being thunk...❤️ also, i apologize in advance for any grammatical/spelling errors

word count: 1,930

JOE

this flirty ass b*tch 😒

he thinks he’s so smooth...and he is!

i see y’all bar hopping in the early talking stages of your relationship

so you’re seated the bar and you’re kinda annoyed because maybe there are a couple girls who come up to him and offer to buy him a drink? (of course they would, have you seen how he’s built?)

BUT THAT’S NOT EVEN THE BAD PART

this mf get’s up from his stool and starts FLIRTING BACK?? AND YOU’RE JUST SITTING THERE LIKE —🧍‍♀️

but then he turns back to you and see’s the displeased look on your face.

cue joe nervously laughing and gently shooing the other girls away

but you’re already pissed bc like? the nerve of him? and in front of you??

you stare straight past him, leaning your elbow up on the bar table as he stands in front of you. babbling out apologies(?)

if you can even call them that?

“babe, i’m sorry! you know it’s force of habit! i didn’t even get to see what they looked like! and they were being nice! what was I supposed to do? tell them to get gone? i was just being polite to them, i’m a feminist after all 😏—”

b*tch...what?

you feel like you’re getting dumber just listening to him

so you kinda tilt your head to look at him and let your hands settle on the front of his belt

his voice kinda tilts? like it slightly gets a just a bit higher ?

before he can even make a smart ass remark, you firmly tug him towards you and kiss him

he hums in surprise before chuckling into the kiss and bringing his warm, calloused hands up to your face

he pulls away and quickly pecks at your lips before playfully outing

“oof, so mean”

“but you like that” you reply before kissing him again

meanwhile, the bartender is watching yall like “😐😑😐”

REKI

like with joe, i imagine you pulling this stunt off in the beginning of your relationship

you and reki are in the little workshop behind his house doing normal relationship stuff

you know, reki working on a skateboard repair while you lovingly admire his side profile...yea ❤️

he’s so absorbed in his work, his eyebrows are furrowed every so slightly, and he’ll randomly clench his jaw and WOWOWOW HE LOOK SO GOOD!

you feel so blessed just being able to take this sight in

you’re watching him intently with your elbows propped up on the table and your face resting between your hands

reki’s in the middle of tightening the screws when he notices you looking out of his peripheral vision

he glances over to you and sees you staring at him

have y’all seen that meme of meghan markle at her wedding looking up at harry?

YEA, YEA you’re literally looking up at reki like that

and boy does reki get FLUSTERED

he tries to act cool about catching you staring but baby is blushing way too hard

“w-what?”, reki mentally kicks himself for stammering as he returns his focus to the skateboard

“you look really hot right now”

reki damn near chokes and his face gets even more red (if that’s even possible)

he turns his back to you to reach for a wrench on the wall adjacent to him

but he's trynna hide how hard he's blushing uwu

you're laughing now and the melodic sound makes the tension in reki’s shoulders dissipate

yea...y’all are whipped for each other

reki is pouting with his back to you, still “looking” for his wrench

when all of sudden, he feels your hands settle on his waist, urging him to turn around

"rekiiiiii", you playfully whine. "i can't admire my boyfriend?"

he's turning around to tell you that he's busy, but then your fingers hook onto his belt

and before his brain can compute what's happening, you're sharply tugging his belt and your mouth is on his, hot and heavy

and reki moans

and it's so high-pitched and so earnest and so loud, you almost want to giggle

but then his knees buckle and he kinda collapses forward into you

so y'all both kinda shuffle back, but reki manages to catch himself by wrapping his arms around you for support

you're about to pull away to ask if he's okay, but then he brings one hand up to your face and parts his mouth

and when you gasp against his mouth, he feels slightly relieved knowing his dignity has been saved somehow

reki pulls away first, panting, and rests his forehead against your collarbone, trying to hide his face again

"you suck" he murmurs into your chest, slightly dizzy

you hum contentedly, combing his hair back before kissing the top of his head

CHERRY

first of all, this mf is an aries (just when i thought he couldn’t get sexier)

and aries men...🥴

basically, you have to do a lot to actually fluster this man

so let’s say he takes you with him for a two-day work trip on a nearby island

while he works with his clients during the day, you busy yourself by wandering around the hotel or walking along the beach

basically, the only time the two of you have together is in the evening

it’s your last night before y’all have to return to okinawa

kaoru tells you to get dressed and takes you out to this expensive ass restaurant and he’s sooooo f*cking romantic

the love in his eyes,,,, his soft ass smile as he watches you ramble in between taking sips from your wine glass

he’s looking at you as you’re personally responsible for the sun rising each day

i mean, you could’ve been talking about how you saw a crab on the beach that was missing a leg, and kaoru would just be like “tell me more bby 🥰😍”

when y’all make it back to the hotel, you’re both a little tipsy (kaoru is more so buzzed)

you’re holding onto kaoru’s arm as you both take the elevator up to your hotel room

kaoru feels you slightly sway against him and he leans over to kiss the top of your head

“you alright, darling?” he murmurs into your hair

he takes your hand in his and runs the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand

and he does all of this while his lips are pressed against the top of your head— SIR PLS ✋😩

it’s an chaste act and you know he’s genuinely concerned but after two glasses of wine, your brain is just—🥴

hornknee thoughts only 😩💯

sloppily, you wiggle out of kaoru’s embrace before centering yourself in front of him with your hands placed on his chest

at your action, kaoru’s eyebrow raises ever so slightly but he keeps silent, slightly amused

“you’re so f*cking fine” you murmur, slightly smoothing your hands over kaoru’s chest, staring him right in eye

“oh?”

“yea, and you don’t even try. What’s that like?”

by now, kaoru’s softly smiling. “what’s what like, my love?”

“what’s it like to be so hot without even trying?”

and before ol boy can even reply to that, your hands find his belt before firmly pulling him in for a kiss

kaoru hums at the sudden jolt but then sighs appreciatively through his nose and wastes no time parting his mouth for you

b*tch, you’re the one who’s moaning skxhsnwje

still kissing you, he smooths your hair back with one hand before grabbing a fistful of your hair

he firmly yanks your hair back and deepens the kiss, and you just— 🤸‍♀️

the moan that elicits from you, is OTHERWORLDY

you feel the elevator roll to a stop

kaoru pulls back with a grin on his face and so much love in his eyes that you’re tempted to go in for round two

but then the elevator door slides open and he grabs your hand, tugging you into the hallways

as he leads you to the hotel room, kaoru slightly turns his head back to smile at you, with the same amount of love in his eyes

LANGA

i feel like langa may get flustered as easily as reki might, but he’s manages to be a lot more cool about it

which kinda drives you up the wall? you just wanna see your boyfriend embarrassed for once

all he does is slightly blush with a straight face and glance away

so let’s say he’s walking you home after you, him, and reki were hanging about at a skatepark

the sun had already set and langa is walking beside you with his skateboard under one arm.

the walk is pretty silent, but it’s a comfortable silence. langa finds that he and you can soak up each other’s presence without having to say a word

you see him jolt out of your peripheral vision and you’re like ???

before you can glance over and ask if he’s okay, he quickly grabs your hand

you glance up at him, confused, and he simply replies “i forgot to hold your hand, sorry”

langa wtf??

fighting back the urge to laugh, you squeeze his hand and tell him it’s fine

both of you share a soft smile, before the easy silence continues for the rest of the walk

when y’all arrive on your porch steps, you turn to him and thank him for walking you home

langa assures you it’s no problem before saying goodnight

he’s turns around and takes a couple steps away, when you clear your throat

he glances back at you, quizzically

you’re standing on the porch step, with your hands behind your back.

there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes

“aren’t you forgetting something?” you playfully chide him

langa: 😐😑😐

you can literally see the gears turning in langa’s head

“...did you want me to walk you to your bedroom?”

you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, and langa feels his cheeks reddened slightly

“angel, no. I meant a goodnight kiss?”

“o-oh, right”

his brows furrowed slightly as he determinedly making his way over to you

he’s so—&:&72737

as he’s making his way over, an idea pops into your head and you kinda “>:3”

when langa is standing in front of you, your hands grip onto his belt and you yank him into a kiss

bby boy almost drops his skateboard

he quickly inhaled through his nose before giving a stuttered moan and you smile into the kiss

you’re standing on the first step to your porch so the added height is giving you more access

BITE HIS MFIN LIP! he will gasp so prettily into your mouth

entranced, he keeps leaning more and more forward, that is, until the back of your foot hits the step behind you

stumbling backwards, you fall back and pull langa along right with you

you fall right on your ass, yelping as you knock foreheads with langa as he falls into you

so now, you’re both left moaning, gripping your foreheads

“are you okay?” langa asks you, dropping his hand from his forehead revealing a red mark

you begin to laugh at the sight of it and langa just stares at you, confused but slightly defensive

“w-what?!”

“your forehead is red” you giggle

“well yea, you slammed your forehead into mine”

“you slammed your forehead into mine” you give him a quick peck on his lip before smoothing his hair hair back

“that looks like it’s gonna bruise,” you murmur and press a kiss to his forehead “I’ll get you some ice, come inside”

end notes: i wanted to get this out in time for cherry’s bday!

#sk8 the infinity x reader #joe x reader #reki x reader #cherry blossom x reader #langa x reader #sk8 the infinty

[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

Copyright © August 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

[vegalocity]

Reunited (Red Groom AU)

This is the part where you guys realize i'm not going in chronological order and am probably just gonna do the scenes i like

but like who cares right that just means we're skipping to the good stuff

Also i combined the battle of wits and the Reuniting scene bc this is my AU and i do what i want

--

In a cruel turn of fate, when the Spider Queen stood alone between him and his most hated foe, the Red Prince wished he still had either the large blue fellow or the dragon with them still. At least the two of them were slightly more amenable to him. And maybe while they couldn't be persuaded to take these wretched restraining cuffs from his wrists they at least were better conversational partners than the half mad Spider Queen.

Tethered to the spider woman as he was at the time, when she began to mutter aloud to herself about trying to lose the Monkey King over a secret way, he had no choice but to follow as she dragged him off of the forest path and into a clearing. He'd assumed she'd gone mad, but before he could voice such opinions she'd spun a quick web and used it to blind and gag him. She'd activated the damned cuffs and finding himself unable to move on his own, he could only comply.

He could rely on naught but his hearing as the Spider Queen dragged him across the open plain and forced him to sit upon what felt to be a long felled tree trunk. He heard her arrange things with the shift and clang of cloth and metal, and soon enough he heard approaching footsteps.

One of her pointed legs pressed up underneath him, the tip just grazing where his chin met his neck.

“So, Monkey King, it's down to you and I once again.” She purred and he let out a shout of rage at finally finally being so close to the monkey who'd taken away his everything but unable to move or even look upon the face of that wretched foe.

“-By all means if you want the prince dead, come closer.” The point of the Spider Queen's leg pressed a little harder against him.

“Give me a moment, let me explain-” The Monkey King started, tense and rough and possessing none of the cocky lit his father had described it as in the stories he'd heard-

“There's nothing to explain!” The Spider Queen crowed. “You're trying to kidnap what I've rightfully stolen!”

“Per...haps an arrangement can be reached?” Why did the Monkey King even want him enough to not have grown bored and moved on? Some sort of assumed loyalty to his father? As if he'd go anywhere with the monster that had taken his-

No. Stop. Stop thinking about it, now's not the time.

The Spider Queen thought so too, he felt a small prick on his neck as she broke the skin there just a bit he let out a muffled yelp in surprise as she grabbed his arm for better leverage. “There will be none. And if you do not wish to bring a corpse back to his family you will remain where you are.”

The Monkey King's voice wavered, and for a moment it sounded afraid... and almost familiar-... No. don't you dare compare him to the monkey who killed him.

“Well... if no arrangement can be made, this is quite the impasse we've reached.”

“I would say so. If you went about swinging that staff I'd likely be squashed flat, yet if you dared do so your prize's blood will stain the soil before you finished the swing. Your brawn is unparalleled 'Great Sage' But so is my intelligence.”

“You're that smart, hm?”

“Whose the one holding the prize, Monkey King?” She gripped his arm tighter.

“Well, In that case how about a battle of wits?” There was that cocky lit. No doubt the Monkey had a trick up his sleeve to take care of the Spider Queen-

“For the prince?”

-and then if he could just play nice for long enough to get him to remove these damned restraining cuffs he could-

“To the Death?”

-he could charge at the simian with every ounce of pain and rage he'd built up in the past two years and turn him to ash and whatever smoldering stone he was made from that remained stone yet.

“I accept.”

He just had to be patient a little longer.

“Wonderful! Pour the wine, please?”

This would possibly be his greatest test of resolve yet. He heard the Monkey's footsteps approaching and as the creature drew near he smelled of peaches and the wind, and-...

Had- Had he stolen some of his beloved's clothes?!

His senses were stronger than an average humans and without his sight his other senses were sharpening and he could swear he smelled the distinct scent of-...of-....don't say his name don't even think it you don't have the time to be hysterical right now

-He didn't think he was CAPABLE of hating the Monkey King even more than he already did and yet here he was. His rage mounting and seething beneath his skin.

He heard the clack and pour as the wine sloshed into what were apparently two cups between his captor and his enemy.

“Smell this, but don't touch it.”

“This smells of nothing.”

“It's called Iocane powder. It has no smell, taste or distinctive texture but it can kill a demon in no time flat.”

“Hm.”

“Now it can't kill ME per se, but even I'm not fully immune to it. It'll put me into a sleep like death for a solid week, which is about as close to dead as I can get anyway.”

“Ahhh I see where you're going with this.”

There was another pause, and the sound of the two cups clinking as they were moved about.

“There. Which cup as the poison within? You select which you'll take, we both drink. And from there we see who has the custody of the prince, and who is dead.”

The Spider Queen laughed and released her hold on his arm to clap in her amusement.

“Truly? We both drink the wine and see who keels over? How delightful! You were never this collected with your gambits before, Great Sage! Truly I can only divine which cup is poisoned from what I know of you, Monkey King.” the Monkey King sucked in a breath and She laughed.

“I suppose the real question is how does the Monkey King go about when he plans on tricking people? Does he poison his own goblet or his enemies?”

Then the Spider Queen began on some long, painfully winded, tirade about what she'd divined about the Monkey King based on his reputation and what she'd gleaned from his behavior, and he honestly could not care about her backwards thought process one whit. He simply wished for this to be over and either make plans to return to this palace when the Great Sage was in his sleep like death and char him to a crisp or wait for the Spider Queen to fall dead and convince the Monkey King to free him so he may do the job himself.

“You're trying to confuse me into giving something away aren't you?”

“You'd LOVE that wouldn't you Monkey King? I know which goblet has the poison in it you great fool.”

“Then choose! Geez, this is boring me!”

“You'll see whose embarrassed soon enou- What in the world could that be?”

“What? Where?” Did.... Did the Monkey King really just fall for the 'look behind you' gambit? “I see nothing.”

...Really?

“I could have sworn I saw something- oh nevermind I suppose. Now, a toast. I select my own cup.”

“Very well.” the two cups clacked together dully.

“You chose wrong.” The Monkey King chortled, only to be cut off by the Spider Queen's cackle.

“You only BELIEVE I chose wrong! How humorous! The great and mighty Monkey King so easily duped!” the Spider Queen cackled “I switched our glasses as you were turned around Monkey King! You've fallen for one of the greatest blunders of them all! The Greatest of course being to never invade the far north nearing winter, but slightly less well known, is to never bet against a Spider when death is on the line!”

The Spider Queen laughed for a time longer before her laughter started to slowly dissolve into a coughing fit. Her hand scrabbled along his arm as she searched for purchase- and then fell away.

The Monkey King approached him and he most certainly HAD stolen the clothes of his beloved with the scent that clung there still—and oh how he'd wished he'd still have a remnant of him to remember with in his timeless eon of grief—and the sheer unbridled unfairness that his killer was allowed something that he so desperately had craved made him furious.

The Monkey King removed the webbing around his eyes first and he blinked in the sudden sunlight. The dark mask and head wrapping the Monkey King wore obscured the majority of his face and he found himself so full of rage at the idea of the wretched stone monkey being so close to him that once the webbing was torn from his mouth his first instinct had been to spit in his face.

He hadn't, but it had been a close call.

“....All that caterwauling and you knew you'd poisoned your own cup the whole time.”

“They were both poisoned, highness.” The Monkey King stated stiffly. “Iocane powder only works on demons and I'm immune to everything but what can kill an immortal... so you may not want to touch either of those cups yourself.”

The Monkey King reached for his bindings and he held his breath as he gave the shackles an experimental tug. The golden bands shuddered and tightened against his wrists. “What nature of binding are these?”

...just play nice, just until they're broken...“I'm not familiar with them myself, but they blast my own fire back onto me should I try to summon it, and tighten upon attempted removal.” Come on... if anyone could break them before they lopped his hands off it would be the Monkey King... and he'd thank him by giving him just what he deserves....

“Sounds like a stolen artifact from the heavenly court or something, you're probably stuck in those things until we return to Flower Fruit Mountain.”

“...Excuse me?”

“Well I know very little about the surrounding area, how short a time it's been since I've returned to the world, and if I remember correctly this mercenary group said themselves they were hired by your fiance, So we should probably assume his palace is hostile territory, and to send you home would surely double our journey time before we can be assured of safety. It's far safer to head back to my own mountain and send word to your home from there.”

No...No no no no That was not allowed. He got to his feet—in such a rush the Monkey King stumbled back in surprise—and couldn't hold on to his temper any longer.

“I will no nowhere with you! You- You absolute-! I- I can't even find the words to DESCRIBE how deeply my hatred runs for you!” The Monkey King flinched back in surprise, before huffing.

“Well you don't have much of a choice, do you? I can't remove those restraints short of chopping your hands off and the sun is due to set soon; How long do you think you'll last in the wild without your fire power? Far as I see it, You either return with me to my mountain, or leave as powerless as a human without even a weapon by your side and hope to make it back home on your own before you're either eaten or slaughtered.”

Red Son growled under his breath, but when the Monkey King gestured for him to follow, he did.

They made it to the outer side of a mountain, a steep decline into the valley off on their side and in the center of the valley lie a dark and tangled forest.

“We can rest here for a time-”

“I refuse to put my guard down around you, ape.” The Monkey King bristled.

“Would you mind terribly to indulge me as to why you've decided to detest your own savior, highness?”

The horrid monkey should know what he's done- “You killed the love of my life”

And then the bastard had the gall to remain unshaken “Maybe I did. I've killed a lot of people since getting free.” The Monkey strode forward and began to circle him, like a predator toying with its prey.

Red Son decided he wouldn't need his fire to attack this creature. Sure he may die within moments, but his rage would at least let him one punch before his skull was split open-

“Tell me, who was this 'love' of yours? Another prince like yourself?” The Monkey King leaned in. “Rich? Cutthroat? Bossy?”

Of all the disrespectful- “He worked in an Inn when I knew him! He was poor!” He rounded on the disgraceful simian yet the killer before him wasn't his focus. “I didn't care about his wealth!”

He couldn't think on him or he'd fall to pieces and-

He couldn't-

“I never cared about that.”

The memory of gentle laughter echoing in his ear, the bright excitement and bounce in his step, those elegant yet calloused hands and he had to stop this right here because the Monkey King wasn't ALLOWED to see him so vulnerable-

“He was perfect in every way...”

Yet now that the memory was in his head again it wasn't going away. And he found his heart aching as deeply as it was during his period of mourning.

The shimmer of adoration when he'd simply glanced at him briefly and known his heart; the embarrassed way his gaze had darted away when he'd later confronted him on his discovered feelings, the warm, bright joy when he'd told him his feelings were returned-

“...With eyes like the space between the stars...” His voice had grown weaker, barely a murmur as the memories reclaimed their long repressed spot in his mind.

Xiaotian... his face, his voice, His passion and energy and-

And the tired look on the Inkeep's husband's face when he'd informed him of their son's death-

-The eager excited look on his face as he'd eagerly listen to Red Son talk about his projects, always listening even if he didn't understand.

The feeling of the floor falling out from under him and and a million horrible noises and feelings mounting up in his throat and chest but restraining it just long enough to find somewhere to be alone

-The energy in his voice as he talked about his art, looking for all the world like his greatest pleasure in the world was taking a brush into his hand and immortalizing the world around him into inks and papers.

Kneeling in the grove of trees for hours screaming his rage and sobbing his despair until a stranger had finally found him.

-The stories he loved to hear and tell in turn, entire body going into his storytelling as he gestured and enacted and faked fights

Night after sleepless night tirelessly working trying to—needing to—just stop thinking else he'd be able to do nothing but wish the world itself had died when Xiaotian had so at least the sun would stop rising and the birds would stop singing and the servants would stop bringing him meals he didn't have the appetite for and he could just work and work until his body finally collapsed in on itself and the light of his forge would go out blanketing the world in eternal darkness like it deserved to be after the greatest light of them all was extinguished.

-one picture, just one, given to him the one time he'd returned to the town by the Inkeep, stating in a gruff, tired voice that he may as well keep it. A figure done up in coals, his own visage of that one beautiful night they'd had together, the paper folded and held in a secret pocket right over his heart where it remained forevermore.

That final goodbye, Xiaotian pressing a feather light kiss to his knuckles as though still trying to be respectful to a prince. And he couldn't suppress the laughter at such a overly fancy action so once his chuckles had subsided he'd pulled him into a proper kiss. And they'd both known it would be some time before they'd see eachother, so they made it a proper goodbye-

But he hadn't thought it would be the last time he'd ever see him alive.

If he'd known... all the things he would have said, all the pleas to keep him there with him in the little town just beyond the palace. To- To move him into the palace, and yes his parent's wouldn't approve of a peasant for a husband, but he'd have no other and eventually they'd come around to it. Especially after they actually MET him and knew the kind of man he was-

But he didn't. And Xiaotian was dead-

He was dead at the hands of someone he'd admired and loved the stories of.

And his rage returned. The fire burned beneath his skin and begged to be let loose but he had to keep a lid on it to keep the cuffs from bouncing his power back onto himself and burning away like an effigy of love and loss.

“He was staying in the village you burned to the ground when you left your traveling group.” his voice was low, as calm as he could possibly make it, if he went any louder he would begin screaming, he knew it. “The one you ensured none would live to tell about beyond your former friends-”

“'Friends' is such a heavy word. My 'traveling compatriots' perhaps would work better.” The Monkey King interrupted him -He interrupted him! “And I mean I couldn't afford to show any mercy while I was leaving them behind! If people thought the Monkey King had gone soft after his five hundred year imprisonment nobody would respect him! Then it's nothing but work work work to rebuild that reputation!”

“Are you mocking me?! You destroy my everything and you have the gall to mock my pain?!”

“Oh, Life is pain highness.” He couldn't see the Monkey King's eyes but he was sure they were mockingly rolling in his self-assured life knowledge. “Anyone who tries to tell you otherwise is just selling you something.”

Then he looked off to the side, and he was so tempted to just charge the Monkey, see how far he could go before he was struck back. See how far his rage could carry him alone. He twisted the restraining cuffs on his wrists, they tightened, he grit his teeth at the squeeze.

“You know, I think I remember this inkeep boy of yours. I separated from my former group about... what, two years ago was it?”

...You know he'd thought that if the Monkey King did remember Xiaotian it would give him some sense of catharsis. That his love had at least made an impression on the great fool, and was not just some faceless passerby, but...

It didn't.

“Does it bother you to know?”

“I'll not give you the satisfaction of hearing any more of my thoughts on the matter.”

“Well, he died well if that's any consolation.” The Monkey King was peering at him through the mask. “No bribe attempts with those meager savings, no blubbering. He pleaded his case to me only the once.” he looked away, seemingly lost in the memory, head tilted upward as though to help him remember. “He said 'Please... I need to live'...Not a lot of people say 'please' and mean it highness, so it gave me pause.”

“I asked him what was worth sparing him over, and I remember this, he said 'True Love'” His chest felt tight...

He reached up a hand and pressed it against his collarbone to try and alleviate the pressure, he could practically see it, the village up in flames, the Monkey King in this same hideous black outfit, his staff already stained with blood, and his precious, darling, beloved Noodle Boy kneeling in the dirt, blood seeping down his face from a cut somewhere on his head, and pleading just for a moment. And-

True love...

“He then went on to describe a gentlemen of great intelligence and deep passion; I can only assume he meant you...Have to say, I'm surprised you're not grateful to me destroying him when I did.”

His mind stuttered to a stop, his entire train of thought completely derailed as the Monkey King spoke.

“...What?”

“You know, before he could see the kind of person you really are.”

His control snapped in half, his fire sprung forth, the golden bands shuddered and the flames erupted out only for a moment before being bounced back onto him. The heat of his own fury scalding him until the pain made him stop. The Monkey King took a half step forward but Red Son made SURE he kept his distance with his glare alone.

“And what, pray tell, kind of person am I?!”

It seemed like he'd finally pissed off the Monkey King. Good. His shoulders tensed and those long canines bared, as though ready to tear into him. “He was really stuck on the idea that you were the faithful sort, highness. That no matter what, yours wasn't the kind of heart that could be swayed! He was so sure that you would wait for him-”

Wait- why was that what had angered him?

“-So tell me, when you learned of your 'love's death did you start accepting suitors the next day or did you wait a full week out of respect for the dead?!”

His hand went flying before he even thought about it, he should have punched him; if that was his only shot in he should have punched him, but his reflexes had decided the action for him and instead his palm was out and he'd slapped him instead.

“How dare you?! You mocked me once see if you live to do it again!”

But he wasn't thinking about that, he wasn't thinking about anything beyond the pain that had gone from a dull ache to white hot in his chest, the absolute blinding rage and the sting of tears welling in his eyes from the sheer tidal wave of anger and despair.

“I DIED THAT DAY”

The tears turned to steam the second they left his eyes, smoldering trails out of either, just barely able to vent that little bit of flame into the world without hurting him but he didn't care if the proof of his despair was made obvious by it or not.

He didn't care about any of it. He didn't care he couldn't summon a single plume of fire or how completely eclipsed his ability was by the Monkey King's without it, and possibly even with his it. He only cared about making him pay. He pounced on the monkey when he seemed stunned by his vehemence.

The scuffle was brief but he DID get another hit in before he was pinned. This time it was a real punch, and it was just as satisfying as he'd hoped it would be.

But too soon was he pinned, The monkey pressing his front to the ground, a knee between his shoulder blades and his hands held together against the small of his back.

He let out a shout of rage, not even bothering to try and give any more words, no more words were necessary.

“Calm down! You need to listen-!”

The steam was clouding his eyes so greatly he was nearly blind with it, his fire was trying to come out unbidden to throw off his opponent, the scalding agony rippling through his body proof of such. But he was numb to it beyond it fueling his anger even further; maybe if he just burnt hot enough he could melt the cuffs right off of him. Everything was hurting, his clothes were going to be a holey mess, but he could smell cooking meat and he could only hope it was the monkey above him. He HAD to burn the Monkey King first. Even if he was immolated himself in the process!

“The only thing I'd like to listen to is your demise! You-! You wretched ape! You heartless horsekeeper! You took my everything you don't deserve the breath you stole from his lungs!” His own lungs ached, was it through holding back sobs? Was he experiencing smoke inhalation for the first time? He couldn't tell.

The pressure was off of his back and his hands were released, he made a blind swipe to try and right himself but his arms wouldn't obey him, and at that realization the pain finally kicked in.

The world went fuzzy at the edges, then dark at the edges. Until he could only see a small spot in front of him and the rest of his sight was naught but a haze of black.

Then everything was black-

It was probably his own flesh he could smell burning-

There was rapid muttering above him-

How embarrassing if this was what did him in, revenge in his grasp and he was too eager to kill the Monkey King right there he let cursed jewelry trick him into offing himself-

Someone was sobbing, was it him? He didn't think he had enough breath in his lungs for that-

The pain was going away, did that mean he was dying-

He tried to open his eyes, but he was still face down in the dirt and could only manage one, the former grassland around him was still smoldering from his fire as it eased back into focus, his breathing was ragged, and at some point his skin had stopped burning so hot, he felt cold.

The pain had eased but hadn't vanished, but the shock was still heavy in his system as he couldn't respond when he felt a pair of arms lift him up and pull him against a hard yet warm surface.

Dark fabric met his eye, and...he knew who this person was, didn't he? At some point in the writhing pain he'd forgotten just what he was doing here, mind going blank for everything but the burning sensation. But whoever they were they felt familiar. Their arms wrapped around his torso like they belonged there, as though the two of them were made to be like this.

The next thing that processed was the sound. His ear was pressed to the person's torso and he could hear the rabbit flutter of a panicked heartbeat. But nonetheless there was something... familiar about it. And alongside the heartbeat there was the vibration of words in the stranger's chest, but these he couldn't quite make out as their face was pressed against the top of his head, buried in his hair and making the words indecipherable.

It was then that his mind finally re-engaged and he realized that it was the Monkey King holding him so tenderly. His anger felt muted by the cold cold blanket of shock, but he still struggled in his grasp to pull away, if only to try and make sense of what was going on. If the Monkey King had such judgmental and inaccurate views of a man he'd never met before now, why was he doing this?

The Monkey King held him tight and he felt the shake of his shoulders as he was pressed even closer. Why was he shaking? He shifted again and this time found his face pressed against the dark fur of the Monkey's neck.

But it... felt off... it didn't feel real. It felt more like fabric with an illusion placed over it than it did actual fur...

The smell of burning flesh finally faded from his nose and was replaced with-

…What?

No that- that wasn't possible, he'd stolen Xiaotian's clothes sure but his face was pressed to the Monkey King's neck, that can't be his scent that can't be-

His arms were still aching as he reached up and found the knot tying the dark mask and headscarf around him. Both fabrics fluttered away and with them came a puff of a cloud of smoke, a shapeshifting form dissolving around him.

And he was pressed against a very human body.

This- this could still be a trap, this could be some sort of illusion to pacify him, so he wouldn't ask any more questions, so he'd just lose himself entirely-

The human—the alive human—clutching to him tightened his grip and he could finally make out the words he was muttering

“I'm so sorry never do that again you scared me to death I'm sorry I'm sorry-”

The cocky lit in his voice was gone and it sounded so achingly familiar without it, and the feeling and the scent and it- it couldn't be....

It had to be

It was a struggle, his arms still felt heavy from the echoes of pain and the numbness of realization, but he pulled away just enough to properly look at him and-

Oh...

Like the space between the stars...

“Xiaotian...”

He was crying, just beginning to pull himself together now. Pulling an arm off of him to scrub at that beautiful face. Those enchanting eyes he'd thought he'd never see again darted away from him and he wanted to protest at not being allowed to simply look at him after... after EVERYTHING... but he couldn't find breath in his lungs.

“I think your fiance's been tracking us- I hear horses. Can you walk?”

He tried to respond, he really did, but he found himself spellbound by the sound of his voice, just as he remembered it without the false persona twisting it until the point it had become unrecognizable.

“Red Son?” he shuddered at the sound of his own name being spoken by that voice again. So many emotions and memories, the hole in his chest finally being filled, and knowing without a shadow of a doubt this time he wouldn't let anything part them again still leaving him stunned. The fire was gone from his skin and finally, finally he felt one emotion beat the others and bubble up to the surface.

Red Son started to laugh. Tears bubbling up and sliding down his cheeks as true, overwhelming joy engulfed him. His arms ached and felt stiff from the burns he'd laid onto them but he pulled them around Xiaotian's shoulders all the same and squeezed with every ounce of strength that remained in his body.

“You're alive...” he wasn't sure if his laughter had turned to sobbing or if the two had simply mixed together but his breath was hitching and the tears wouldn't stop. “If you wanted I could fly”

Those arms pulled around him again and now he could truly appreciate just how easily the both of them fit together.

“I- I still don't understand, why did you accept the proposal if you still loved me?” Xiaotian's voice was a whisper against his shoulder, and he didn't want to think any more of his family's decisions and his hopeless acceptance, yet-

“My parents decided it, and what else could I have done?” he paused for breath “You were dead.”

Xiaotian responded with such conviction he had no choice but to instantly believe him:

“Death can't stop true love; it can only delay it for awhile.”

His lips were rougher than he remembered, but Red Son had no complaints upon kissing them again.

#Spicynoodleshipping #MK Red Son #Qi Xiaotian #MK Spider Queen #Spider queen dies :( sorry bout that #tw death #Red groom AU #vega writes stories too #Princess bride AU #Monkie Kid #LMK #Lego Monkie Kid

[maybe-your-left]

Girl please give us more dr ren I’m begging

Dr. is what we all need this holiday season, and this Dr. Oneshot is inspired by a dream I had.  sooooooo... also this is like the longest oneshot I've ever written and I'm not sorry

HIPAA Violation Universe!

YOU READ IT RIGHT, I AM THROWING THIS INTO THE UNIVERSE OF SURGEON KYLO. SO SAME TW APPLY. THIS IS PRE COMING OUT IN PUBLIC WITH YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH REN!!!

SPOILER, THIS IS REALLY LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY. 

TW: NSFW, AGE GAP (14 YEARS BC I MADE HIM ADAM DRIVERS AGE), THROWING IN A FEW NEW ELEMENTS TRY TO KEEP UP, ANAL SEX, DOUBLE PENETRATION, DIRTY TALK, NASTI BOI DR. REN. 

You sat on your couch, a bowl of popcorn in your lap as you watched White Christmas on Netflix. It had been a really long day, you had to drive your friend to the doctor's office, the same doctor you had started fucking for the past two months, then have to sit at lunch with her and listen to her gush about how handsome he is. All while you had to pretend like you didn’t notice because he was a paranoid control freak who ‘wasn’t ready to put a label on us’.

Rose had texted you about wanting to meet up for the evening, saying something about ‘since I got my cast off we need to have wine night!’. You hastily ignored the messages, wanting to sulk in private after Ren ignored you at the appointment. The least he could do to the girl he had been sticking his dick into every evening, was say hello or shoot them a text that said how cute you looked. But no, you hadn’t heard from him all day, and you knew when his breaks were. 

You shoveled a handful of popcorn in your mouth, ready to drown it with a gulp of the Margarita you made when your door flew open. 

“Love, take your pants off-.” 

Ren stood in your entryway, making direct eye contact with your mouthful of popcorn. His face was completely devoid of emotion, slowly shutting the door, still not breaking eye contact, and setting his briefcase on the kitchen island. He shucked off his lab coat and draped over one of the barstools before he began to unbuckle his belt. “You know junk food isn’t healthy for you.” 

“Mphf.” 

“Chew your food.” 

You swallowed, blindly reaching for your drink and taking a long gulp while staring at his dark eyes. Ren’s left eyebrow raised as he watched you, yanking his belt out of his pant loops. He gripped it in his left hand as he stalked over to you, “It’s a little early to be drinking, isn’t it? You’re being very naughty tonight.” 

You glared at him, standing from the couch with your arms folded across your chest. “I don’t think I said you could come over tonight.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Um,” you stopped when you were chest to chest with him, “Because it’s my apartment and I control who comes over.” 

“Oh, you do?” he smirked at you, “Then why am I standing here?” 

“Because you’re an asshole.” 

He snorted, quickly grabbing your jaw with his free hand and digging his forefinger and thumb into either side. “You are just begging to be punished, and here I thought you wanted me to come over. Like you have every night since I fucked your whore brains out for the first time.” 

“Stoppit,” you tried to spit back at him, your face beginning to ache from his strong grip. You brought your hands up, trying to claw his from your face but it was no use, he was too strong. So you settled for pouting, giving him your sad, puppy eyes. 

Ren hummed, bringing your face close to his own. Enough to rub his strong nose against yours as he spoke, “You’re so lucky that I like you.” 

Your eyebrows shot up, pulled together in confusion. Ren only laughed at you, placing a kiss to your own swollen lips before he pulled away, “Why are you surprised?” 

You yanked away from him, stumbling into the back of your couch, “You’ve never said anything like that before...” 

“God you're dumb,” Ren groaned, beginning to roll up his sleeves before he began to unbutton his pants like he originally did. “Would I have risked my career for you if I didn’t?” 

“Well,” you looked away, scuffing the floor with your slipper as you mumbled, “Why didn’t you say anything when I came in today...” 

His pants fell to the ground, stepping out of them while he laughed again, “What am I supposed to say, Hey sweetie, who's your friend?” 

“No,” you wiped your nose with your sleeve, ignoring Ren as he moved towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He rocked his body into yours, humming in your ear as he kissed behind it, “I’m trying to not make it obvious that I fucked you at my office.” Ren slid his hands under your sweater, his cold hands causing you to hiss into his shoulder, “I know you want me to be publically affectionate with you, but it’s too soon after your surgery to do that. Not while I’m still treating you for your recovery.” 

You nodded, realizing that you technically were still his patient. You had a follow-up exam in 4 months with him and after that, you wouldn’t be an ‘active patient’ anymore. It made sense now that you thought about it, but you still didn’t like it. You sighed into him, bringing your hands up to his shoulders and squeezing them, so he knew you heard him. Ren kissed the side of your head, mumbling into your hair, “Now, can you take your pants off, please.” 

Five minutes later, Ren was fucking you from behind. You were on your hands and knees on top of your mattress, wailing as his cock tore into you. He thrust into you fast and hard, moaning above you as he scratched down your bareback. “You’re such a good girl, taking me so well.” 

“Fuck-Kylo-don’t stop I’m gonna cum!” 

Ren grabbed your right thigh, swiftly rolling you onto your back and popping his cock out of you. He placed a heavy palm on your lower belly and shoved two fingers inside your cunt. Twisting and fucking your slick out of you as you writhed, his fingers were just long enough to hit your g-spot, but not enough to make you cum. You wiggled around, begging for him to let you cum, but he just shook his head. Long hair covering up his face while he watched your cunt swallow his fingers. Ren spat on your clit, bringing his thumb down to press on it. Mouth popping open in awe as you screamed, “Yes! Yes! Fuck!” 

Just as you were on the cusp once again, he yanked his hand out of you. Thumb leaving your clit, pulling your bottom up to perch on the tops of his thighs. Bringing your cunt high in the air, and your asshole level with his cock. He watched your face turn red with fury, waiting until you opened your mouth to yell at him before he shoved his slick fingers into your asshole. 

“Oh my god,” you wailed, eyes rolling back into your head as he started a brutal pace of working your rim open. 

“Such a slut,” he chastised you, fucking his fingers faster into your asshole, “Listen to you, you’re just letting me fuck this hole open. Do you want my cock in here?” 

You nodded silently, mouth opening and closing as you cried. 

“Where do you want it?” 

“My-my ass,” you cried. Wiggling your hips working his fingers inside you more and more. He stalled, keeping his two digits fully inside you as he watched your breathing calm down. “Reach into your drawer, and grab that silly toy you have.” 

“Wh-what toy?” 

“Don’t be coy whore,” he hissed, “Grab that sorry excuse for a cock out of there and stick it in your mouth. Get it nice and wet for me.” 

You reached over to the drawer, whining as you moved. His fingers wouldn’t budge inside you, he even started to lean over you as he watched you scramble for it. You practically cried when you produced it, looking at him and waiting for his praise. “Well?” he asked.

“I got it,” you rasped, your voice breaking from your screams. He tore it from your hand, his open dwarfing it from his size. Bringing the silicone to your lips as he commanded you to open wide. You quickly popped open, moaning as he shoved the length of it down your throat, clasping his palm over the base so you couldn’t cough it out. Ren started fucking you again with his fingers, watching in awe as you sucked the cock as he commanded. 

You rolled your tongue around it the best you could, gagging on the length that tickled the back of your throat. You shut your eyes in bliss, loving the feeling of him stretching you out until he pulled his fingers from you. Swiftly replacing it with his cock head and ramming into you with little remorse. 

“Uh-yes-Fuck, squeeze my cock,” he moaned, pushing in all the way inside you. Rens eyes briefly flashed to your own, watching your face contorted from pain to pleasure as he thrust in and out of you. Your ass slowly becoming numb to his movements, pleasure pouring out of your neglected cunt, dripping down to the base of his cock each time he pulled out. Ren fucked you for a few more minutes like this, keeping his hand over your mouth to force you to choke on the silicone. While he tore you apart on his fat cock. 

Ren stopped fully inside you, panting over you, “Is that nice and wet, love?” 

You nodded behind his hand, letting out a muffled yes. He popped it out of your mouth, leaning back to inspect the spit that was collected on it. A dark smile graced his perfect lips as he brought it down to your cunt, his only warning a soft command, “If it starts to hurt, say red.” 

Ren shoved the length of the cock inside your cunt, smiling as you screamed out in pleasure. Heaving as he started to fuck you again in the ass, using one hand to keep the base of the other cock inside your cunt to the brim. You were drunk on the feeling of his cock pushing against the dildo, feeling your walls stretch and constrict each time he thrust inside you. Ren was moaning as much as you were, babbling about how good you were, ‘a good whore, taking two cocks for him, letting him fuck you however he wanted.’ 

You nodded in pleasure, cunt weeping around the dildo as he tore your ass open. Ren growled at you, “Fuck your cunt, show me how you like to be fucked.” 

You wasted no time grabbing the base from him, letting his hands pry your legs open further so he could better fuck you. Ren growled at you when you took it completely out watching you shove it back inside yourself, attempting to match his pace. Both of you were moaning and crying out, your cunt was squelching out wetness each time you pushed back inside. You brought a hand down to your hole, scooping some out with your first and second finger. Bringing the wetness to your clit, instantly crying out when you touched it. 

“Fuck, you just squeezed me so fucking hard, are you gonna cum?” Ren pleaded, his forehead slicked with sweat. His chest was red and splotchy, muscles overexerting their strength as he held back his release. You nodded at him, moaning out yes yes yes.

“Cum with me baby, cum while I fill your dirty ass up.” 

Both of you cried out, loud enough for you to hear your neighbor pound on your shared wall. You mumbled out a drunken ‘sorry’ as you felt Ren cum inside you. Softly pulling the silicone out of your abused cunt, followed by Ren wincing as he pulled his cock out of you. Softly petting the backs of your thighs as he cooed at you, “God you’re so beautiful, so made for me.” 

He leaned over your body, placing a kiss on your lips. Lingering for a few moments as you both sighed in relief. Ren rolled onto his back, letting you both have a moment to catch your breath, his right hand finding its way into your knotted hair. Trying to detangle the pieces he had ruined, you pulled your head away. Whining as you sat up, turning to look at his blissed-out face, “Want me to go heat up some leftovers?” 

“Please,” he croaked. 

----- 

WAIT IM NOT DONE YET! I HAVE MORE TO SAY BUT THIS PART IS SFW. 

-----

You slipped on your bathrobe, waddling to the kitchen while you tied your hair back into a decent bun. You cleared the island off, placing his briefcase and his keys next to the front door, he's notorious for forgetting them when he leaves in the mornings. You popped the leftovers in the microwave, taking a sip from your room temperature margarita while you waited. 

KNOCK KNOCK 

“Ugh, probably the neighbor,” you grumbled. Pulling your robe tight over your naked body, glancing through the doorway to your room to see if Ren was somewhat clothed, or hidden from public viewing. You whipped the door open ready to apologize profusely when you were pushed aside. 

“Hey, girl!” Rose yipped, slightly limping on her freshly uncasted knee. She was followed by your friends Bazine and Finn who had very large wine bottles in their clutches. “You weren’t answering your phone, and you were so bummed out after my doctors' appointment today so I thought you could use some company!” 

“Yeah, we even brought you your favorite bottle!” Finn squealed. Quickly grabbing the bottle opener from your kitchen and uncorking the Red Blend. Bazine gave you a smile, “And I got out of my family dinner, my dad’s pissed because my uncle bailed too but I wanted to see you!” 

“Uh,” you choked, “It’s not really a good time, I was just-uh-hopping in the shower!” 

“Its okay, we've all seen you naked before,” Rose rolled her eyes, propping her leg up on an empty seat as she took a drink. 

“And it’s not like you’re doing anything-,” 

“Love, have you seen my pants? My pager went off and I can't find my-” Ren came out of the bedroom, only dressed in his boxers and socks. Freezing as all eyes turned to him. He slowly covered his nether region with one arm, eyes flashing over to you for help. You opened your mouth to speak but were cut off. 

“Doctor Ren?” 

“Uncle Kylo?” 

You quickly spun to look at Rose and Bazine, Rose was staring at him with a huge smile while Bazine was completely mortified. Ren quickly shuffled towards the couch, grabbing his pants and running into the bedroom. The door slamming shut, behind it you heard Ren swearing in a fit of rage. Both heads swiveled to you, the microwave beeping the only sound in the room. You gave them a weak smile, darting to the bedroom right behind him. 

Inside Ren was furious, angrily throwing his pants on. He wrestled with his undershirt while you scrambled for his dress shirt, batting his hand away from the buttons since he was too mad to do them himself. “Why the fuck are they here!?” he hissed. 

“I don't know! I haven’t checked my phone all night!” 

“Jesus,” he groaned, “Why is my niece here? Drinking? She is not 21 yet, why is she even your friend?” 

“Okay,” you scoffed, “I didn’t know Baz was your niece, second you do not get to blame me for my friends coming over when you do it unannounced all the time!” Ren wiggled out of your grasp, moving to the side of your bed that had his shoes while he continued to angrily dress. “Well, I got called back to work so you have fun with your little friends. Gossiping about how you’re fucking your friend's uncle AND your doctor. Fuck my brothers going to kill me.” 

He burst out of the bedroom, avoiding eye contact with everyone as he moved towards the front door. Yanking the lab coat from behind Bazine, before he shot a glance at Rose, “I see you aren’t wearing the brace I gave you Miss Tico.” 

Rose giggled, opening her mouth for a retort but Ren grabbed his briefcase and slammed the front door before she could utter a word. You walked to the kitchen, reaching for four wine glasses before facing the crowd. Silently grabbing the bottle from Finn’s hand and pouring yourself a healthy glass. Finn cleared his throat, “So, wanna talk about what just happened?” 

You leaned on the counter, rubbing your face with your hands before peaking through your fingers, “It’s nothing.” 

“You should’ve told us you were sleeping with him!” Rose squealed, her enthusiasm far too high for your liking. Bazine poured herself a glass before she spoke, “You know he has a kid right?” 

“I did not know that,” you mumbled into your palm, “It doesn’t matter he won’t be coming back.” 

Your front door flew open once more, proving you wrong on the spot, as Ren stormed back in. Snatching his keys from the counter before he spoke, “Baz I won’t tell Ben that you’re drinking if you keep your mouth shut about this, deal?” 

She nodded her head quickly, muttering in reply, “Thank you, Uncle Ky.” 

He turned to you, chewing the inside of his chew as he approached. Ren sighed when he stepped next to you, placing a soft kiss on your temple while he mumbled, “I’m sorry for being rude, Love. I’ll come get you in the morning for breakfast.” With that, he ran out again, the door shutting for the final time tonight. You grabbed your wine glass and began to drink again, downing about half before you spoke. 

“So he has a kid?”

------

HAHAHAHAHA IM SORRY BUT I AM CACKLING AT MYSELF. ALSO BAZINE IS 20 IN THIS, WE AGAIN ARE 22 LIKE IN THE FIRST HIPAA VIOLATIONS. YOU'RE WELCOME. 

@finn-ray-nal-beads @historyandfandoms50

#adam driver #adamdriver #doctor ren #kylo ren #modern kylo ren #surgeon kylo ren #anon answered #Hipaa Violation #this is my favorite AU #i will never stop loving surgeon kylo and I will die on that hill

[adarafaelbarba]

My Little Pet (NSFW)

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x reader

Fandom: Hannibal

Requested: Yes

Request: «Femdom or pegging with Chilton? Chilton is lonely and hires a dom? Or he's been whiny all day & needs to be p u n i s h e d. Punished/actually comforted bc you know he loves it» - @prurientpuddlejumper

Warning: Femdom. Smut (duh).

A/N: This covers the femdom square in @thatesqcrush ’s kink bingo. I did a combo of these three messages, although pegging with potentially be a part 2. No degrading names (and very little use of pet names), I’m new to this kink. Also I apologize in advance, this is the first time I write for Frederick Chilton, and this kind of fic in general 😅 Bare with me 🙈 -Karen

For people who didn’t really know Dr. Frederick Chilton, they thought of him as a man who had it all together. Someone who didn’t have to beg for anything. But you knew better, you knew the real man, who, under all that facade of sass, assholeness and elegant suits, just wished to be held and taken care of.

You could read him when he came home from work by now, seeing as you’d known him for some time. Most days he wanted to be held. Some days he wanted to be left alone. Other days he wanted his primal needs filled. You liked those days.

It wasn’t to say your sex life was lacking, quite the opposite. Frederick knew how he liked it in the bedroom, or wherever he wanted to take you, and he also knew what you liked. On the days he just wanted to be held, you usually took it slowly in bed, purely intimate and soft. When his primal needs needed to be filled it was up to what you were both feeling in the moment, whether it was from behind, anal, reverse cowgirl. It didn’t matter when you were there, as long as you got off at least 2 times each during the night.

You didn’t know where this need was coming from, but you had always wanted to try be the dominant person in the bedroom. Usually you were both in control, save from the days he was the most fragile and just wanted to take things slow.

But you had never been a dom. Heck you didn’t really know what you had to do in order to do the role. So you decided to prep yourself, read up on the role and enact it at the perfect time.

The perfect time came when Frederick came home one night in a mood. He’d been ignoring you for days, blamed it on work being rough, that wouldn’t do for you. «Come here», you said, your voice soft, yet demanding. «Darling I’m not in the mood», he groaned. «I don’t like to repeat myself», you said, «Come here.» He looked at you in shock, only then taking in your appearance. You were clad in a black bralette and a matching black laced thong, a black silk robe hanging over your shoulders and you were wearing his favorite pair of stilettos that you owned. «What are you—», he questioned, a low groan escaping his lips as he took you in. Then his eyes lifted to your face. Your (h/c) hair was curled elegantly, and you were wearing simple, yet alluring makeup, sharp winged eyeliner and wine red lips. «You don’t talk, is that clear?» you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

It took him a moment to respond, and you felt yourself grow impatient. «What did I say?!» you snapped again, causing him to whimper. «I think I should teach you a lesson, shouldn’t I?» that made him gulp as he took a step back. «Don’t even think about it Frederick», you purred, approaching him.

You slowly got to work on opening his belt and slack button before dipping your hand into the front of his slacks and boxer, taking his hardening member in your hand. The motion drew a loud moan out of him, «Not a sound from you», you purred, pumping him slowly. «So what was this about not being in the mood huh?» you teased. Frederick knew that if he really didn’t want this, he could always use the safe word and you would stop immediately, but it felt so good having you distressing him like you did with your hands. «Please don’t stop», he whimpered, before stopping himself. He had no idea what would happen if he spoke up after you had told him twice to keep quiet. Biting down on his lip he willed him self to look at you, and he was met with a stoic face.

Who knew his caring, loving girlfriend would be this dominating, sexy goddess? He had no idea where this demeanor came from, but he wasn’t complaining. «Yeah? Feels good doesn’t it? You want to cum, huh? Want to ruin these nice pants with your release don’t you?» you teased, picking up some speed with your hand. He didn’t dare to say anything. «Such a good little boy for me, doing as I say», you went on. Tracing your index finger and middle finger over his lips, silently telling him to take them in his mouth, and he did, sucking on your digits with a wanton lust.

Stopping your wrist movement you pulled both your hands away and looked at him with a sultry look. It drew a soft whine from your boyfriend, but you simply gave him a look as to say don’t test me, which made him stop. «Go to the bedroom and strip, then get on the bed, don’t you dare touch yourself», you instructed and he obediently did as he was told, almost running to your shared bedroom.

You took your time getting into the bedroom, downing a glass of wine before you joined him. What met you when you entered could have been your undoing. Frederick was laid flat on his back on the bed, arms laid outstretched to the side and his suit laid over the back of a chair.

«Look at you. So obedient, so willing. Maybe I should reward you now? Since you’re so good and doing what I tell you», you teased, running a well manicured hand over his naked body. «Please», he begged, whimpering at the contact. «What was that?» you mocked. «Please darling, please fuck me, please let me cum», he begged. You pulled your hand away before you delivered a slap across his face. Grabbing his chin with one hand you glared at him, «Didn’t I tell you not to make a sound?» you barked, Hands above your head. Now», you commanded.

Doing as he was told he waited in anticipation as you grabbed the satin rope from your gown, tying his hands up with it and fastening it at the headboard. He looked up at you with wide, wondering eyes as you hovered over him.

«You’re gonna get me off by just your mouth, and then we can negotiate if you can cum or not», you said, lust dripping from each word. Frederick nodded quickly and tried his best not to make a sound. He wanted desperately to get a release, so if it meant not making a sound, so be it.

Straddling his chest you slowly moved up until your centre was right above his face. Your eyes locked briefly, and you could see in his eyes how much he wanted this. «You better make me cum», you purred, slipping your panties to the side before lowering down on him.

You knew Frederick was good with his mouth, of course he was. The intense sensation of his lips and tongue working on your swollen clit and centre. It took everything in you not to let your facade down and scream out in pleasure at how good he was making you feel.

He seemed to be enjoying himself under you as he ate you out like a starved man. As he kept working you to the edge, you started regretting the fact that you had tied him up, you missed his skilled fingers, but it had to do you supposed.

Grabbing onto the headboard for leverage, letting loud moans rip from your mouth. «Just like that, doing so well for me aren’t you pet?» you mewled, «Are you going to make me cum? Are you going to be a good boy for me hmm?» you added, raking fingers through his hair as his tongue moved in and out of your core. «Oh fuck! YES! Just like that!» you squealed, feeling the coil deep within you ready to snap. «I’m gonna—I—oh fuck!!!» you let out a string of moans and curses as your orgasm hit.

Frederick lead you through your climax, licking up all your juices with glee.

When you finally came back down from you mind blowing orgasm you got off him and knelt next to him the bed. «You did so good for me pet», you purred, smiling at him as he laid there in bliss. You felt yourself being spent. Had you known being a dom would be so much more work than just getting into bed and fucking, you would have rested more before hand. Not to mention you had been pent up from going 2 weeks without sex, something that never happened as long as you had been with Frederick.

«Let’s get you to bed baby», you purred, untying his hands. He didn’t seem to like that one bit, looking at you with a growing hunger in his eyes. «But you promised me I would cum after I made you cum», he whined. «And now I’m saying we should go to bed. Are you going to be a little brat?» you mocked his whiny tone. «Maybe I shouldn’t let you cum for two weeks», you said, getting out of his reach when he jumped up in protest. «You wouldn’t! You couldn’t deal with two more weeks without sex» he gasped. «I would. And who said anything about me not getting off? I have your mouth at my disposal, not to mention my toys. You on the other hand will not be allowed to touch yourself, that should teach you not to be a whiny little brat», you purred.

Frederick was shocked by your tone, but at the same time so turned on. Did he dare challenge you more at the risk of not being able to get a release? «It’s unfair darling. Please, let me cum», he begged, moving towards you. «You didn’t please me for two weeks. You denied me the intimacy, so I’m returning the favor. Now go to bed Frederick, and stop being a little brat.» He huffed, but in the end, he had no choice but to do as he was told. Damn this woman and how she had him wrapped around her finger. But damn if he wasn’t going to fuck her nice and hard when he was given the chance. He was already plotting it.

taglist: @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @kriegsverlobte​ 

#frederick chilton smut #frederick chilton #frederick chilton x reader #frederick chilton imagine #frederick chilton one shot #thatesqcrush kinktober 2020 #thatesqcrush kink bingo #kinktober 2020 #kinktober

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 35 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: I just...someone call the Pope.

“First class again?” Bee asked as she looked down at the boarding pass that had just printed out from the kiosk at Toronto’s Pearson International Airport.  She readjusted the Louis Vuitton tote bag on her shoulder – the same one that Lucy convinced her to buy all those months ago – and looked up at Morgan quickly.

“Did you expect anything less from me?” Morgan asked, looking down at her.  “I mean…really.”

Bee snorted as she took a closer look at the boarding pass in her hand, wondering if she got a window seat again or if she was in an aisle cubby.  As she looked at her seat number, a peculiar word caught her eye.  “Uh oh.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think it printed out the wrong boarding pass for us.  We might have to go back up to that lady who took our luggage.”

“What do you mean?” Morgan said, his tone not phased at all by the apparent error.  Morgan flew all the time – this was probably a common error.  Did private team jets still print boarding passes?

“It says the destination is Kelowna instead of Vancouver,” Bee said.  

“That’s because the destination is Kelowna.”

For a moment, Bee couldn’t understand the words coming out of Morgan’s mouth.  She looked at him like he had three heads, trying to decipher the words.  “We…we’re going to Kelowna?” she asked.  He nodded.  “But…I thought we were going to Vancouver?”

“We are, silly.  I’m surprising you with a trip to the Okanagan Valley first, then we’re going to Vancouver,” Morgan was smirking at her.

“The Okanagan Valley?  You mean like B.C. wine country?”

“Precisely,” he leaned down to give her a quick kiss.  “Who would I be if I didn’t surprise you with something.  And don’t Morgan me.”

She sneered at him playfully.  “I wasn’t going to.”

“Sure.”

“But you do…I mean…” she began, wondering if she should even say the words.  “You do know we could be staying in a Motel 6 and I’d be happy.”

“Briony,” he said her name in a half-amused, half-warning tone.  He leaned down to kiss her again before continuing.  “What’d I say about this stuff.”

“I know, but--”

“We are going to have,” kiss, “a very good time,” kiss, “going on winery tours,” kiss, “and watching the sunset,” kiss, “over the Okanagan,” kiss, “and then we’re gonna take a roadtrip,” kiss, “to Vancouver,” kiss, “and watch the sunrise,” kiss, “over the Sunshine Coast,” kiss, “just like last time,” kiss.  

Bee couldn’t help but smile at his words.  She was also very conscious of the fact that he was kissing her multiple times in the middle of a busy airport.  She didn’t used to be that person, but Morgan brought it out of her.  She licked her lips and bit her bottom lip before looking up at him.  “You’re too good to me,” she mumbled.

“You get what you deserve, Bumblebee,” he winked.  “Now let’s go.”

***

When they touched down in Kelowna, they checked in at the Delta Grand Okanagan Resort on the waterfront and changed into workout gear.  Morgan wanted to take Bee hiking up the mountain to see the views, and she was more than ready to comply, despite the fact that she knew she was out of shape and would probably have to stop several times along the way up the mountain.  She knew the views would be worth it, and if she was a sucker for anything, it was views from mountaintops.  Considering she had never been to Kelowna, she thought it the perfect introduction.  

They began their hike at the base of Knox Mountain Park, following the trail diligently and making sure to stay on the designated path.  There were a lot of hikers out and about due to the beautiful day outside, so there were many quick greetings and many dog pets as they made their way up.  About half way up the hike, they happened upon a group of middle-aged people – Bee would say they were probably around Rocco and Clarette’s age – with four golden retrievers between them.  Morgan was in absolute heaven.  Everybody stopped so the dogs could be pet, and one of the men eventually recognized Morgan, so everyone posed for a group photo.  Bee was pulled into it for some reason.  The man’s wife was so excited that she pulled Bee in.  It was all very nice, but unnecessary for her to be there.  She could have at least taken the photo.  

When they got to the top of the mountain about twenty minutes later, Bee gasped.  There, before her eyes, was Okanagan Lake and the city of Kelowna spread out across the landscape.  Though she was out of breath, probably red, and definitely sweating, she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at the sight before her.  The vast expanse before her was almost too much to handle; too beautiful to forget.  She focused hard, and long, creating a mental image in her head of the view so that she’d never forget it.  She didn’t want this memory to disappear.

It was only when she felt Morgan’s arm wrap around her waist that her trance sort of ended – even then, she couldn’t look at him, too transfixed on finding every little detail to remember.  The colour of the trees.  The sparkle of the water.  The deep blue of the sky.  “It’s beautiful, eh?” he asked softly.  

“Like…it’s not fair,” she said, causing Morgan to giggle slightly.  “I know I said this on the boat that morning in January but you’re so lucky that you got to grow up here.  Like, incredibly lucky.”

“I know, Bumblebee.  That’s why I want to bring you here all the time,” he admitted.  “I want you to love it as much as I do.”

She couldn’t help but smile as she finally looked up at him.  “I already do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  Just by virtue of the fact that you grew up here.  Never mind the views and the scenery and the people – they’re extra.  I love it because you love it.  Because it’s your home.”

Morgan leaned down to kiss her, not caring about how many people were around possibly watching.  Sometimes, Bee had the simplest reasons for things, and for a guy who got stuck in his head too much and came up with overly complicated explanations for things some of the time, it was that simplicity that he needed.  I love it because it’s your home.  It was the simplest sentiment but one that brought out the best in Bee.  She didn’t need anything besides the ground beneath her feet and her favourite people by her side.  Everything else was extra.  “I love you, you know that?” he whispered against her lips.

“You do?”

He pinched her butt playfully.  “Smart ass.”

“Yeah, but you love my ass.”

“You’re lucky I do.”

***

So you’re finally working out.  About fucking time, fat ass.  

Surprised you’re not off fucking Fred or Tyler for your 15 minutes of fame.  But then again, who’d want to fuck someone as desperate as you?

Making Morgan spend money on you again…typical.  Bleeding him dry.  If you were smart you’d be with Auston bc he has way more money.

All the Toronto girls are talking about you behind your back.  I hope you know that.  You’re still the biggest social climber ever.  You think you’re hot shit but you’re not.  And just because your new BFF is Aryne, it doesn’t mean a thing.  Everybody can see right through you.  When Aryne and Morgan dump you, it’s over for you.  You’re already so irrelevant.

Why do u think u can wear tights like that omg u look like a complete whale!

Go drown urself in that lake bitch

“Is everything okay?” Morgan asked as he crawled into bed beside Bee, snuggling up to her automatically as she lay in bed with a lace camisole pyjama set.  Bee had sent Angie a quick text to see how Bruce was doing, and Angie was supposed to have sent a video of Bruce back to them.  She and Mason were cat and house sitting the apartment while they were away.  

“It’s fine,” she sighed.  “Just reading the latest messages from my fan club.”

“Fan club?” Morgan asked.  When she gave him her phone and he saw the familiar layout of Instagram, he knew immediately what she was talking about and furrowed his brows.  

Ur soooooooo desperate for attention

U look like a cheap hooker…like not even an escort.  Ur so trash!!!!!

You should learn a thing or two from Lucy and her yoga business.  AKA stop leeching off your boyfriend!!!!!  You think you’re better than everyone else when you’re not.  SAD!

Morgan is stupid to be with you.  I don’t understand what he sees in trash like you.

“Bumblebee…you don’t…I can’t…” he couldn’t find the right words to say as he shook his head.  “I’ve gotta talk to Steve again…”

“He’s not coming back from Europe for you, Morgan.”

“Briony, you shouldn’t have to be dealing with this,” he said sternly, unable to joke about this like she was.  “I know how much this affects you, baby.  And it’s not fair.  It’s not fair that they can say whatever they want to you and you have to refrain from saying anything back.  That you can’t…that you…” he trailed off.

“That I what?” she asked.  She was practically able to see the gears shifting in his head.  

“You can’t say anything about it…but what if I did?”

“NO,” she half-screamed, grabbing her phone out of his hand quickly before his thoughts got the best of him.  She sat up in the bed and he followed her, sitting up too.  “Morgan Frederick Rielly, NO.  Don’t you dare.  Don’t you – that would make it worse, Morgan.  That’s the stupidest idea you’ve ever come up with.  Could you imagine the media coverage on that?  Kyle would blow a gasket, let alone Steve.  Shanny might have a stroke.”

“But I want to keep you safe, Bumblebee.  I need to keep you safe,” he tried to reason with her.  

“Not at the expense of your good reputation with the team and in Toronto and definitely not at the expense of your career,” she said sternly.  “Morgan Frederick Rielly, don’t you even think about it.”

“But Briony--”

“Don’t.”

“I don’t understand how you can handle all this.  It’s all my fault,” he said.  

“It is most definitely not your fault.”

“I feel guilty every day, every fucking time I have to read one of those fucking messages or see you torn up about it.  Canada Day wrecked me.  To see you like that…Briony, I can’t.  How can you be so…how can you handle it?  How aren’t you scared ab--”

“Shhhhh…” she said quietly, bringing her finger up to his lips to quiet him.  “Because my love for you is greater than my fear of that.”

Morgan took a moment to internalize her words.  His chest was heaving slightly, he was a bit agitated, and his mind was set on doing something about it himself if he had to, but all he had to hear was her voice, her smooth, calming voice, and all those feelings washed away.  “You…”

“My love for you is greater than my fear of that, or them, or anything they say to me,” she repeated, cradling his face in her hands as she kissed him.  “You need to start realizing that.  They can say whatever they want, and sometimes it might hurt me, and I might cry about it a little bit, but I’m stronger than that and I’ve been through way worse.”

Morgan sighed heavily.  “Bumblebee…”

“Shhhhh…” she shushed him again, her finger on his lips being replaced by her own lips.  “They’re all jealous.  That’s all it is.  Jealously.  Jealous that you’re mine and jealous that we’re building a life together.  Jealous that I get this giant hunk of man all to myself,” she whispered, kissing him again.  “Now…if you don’t mind, I’d like to show this giant hunk of man how grateful I am for him and everything he does.”

“B-Bumblebee…” he mumbled out before she kissed him again.

“Quiet, Mr. Rielly.”

Morgan did as he was told.  He began kissing her back, softly at first, then with a fervour he reserved only for her, that only she could bring out of him.  And when she began kissing along his jawline, climbing on top of his body simultaneously and rubbing her core on his thigh, all his thoughts dissipated completely, replaced with a hunger that he felt only for her.  He was insatiable for her.  He could never get enough of her.  He wanted her always, all the time, constantly, incessantly, persistently.  His body ached for hers.  It was crazy, he thought, how well they fit together.  How their bodies responded to one another instinctually.  He wouldn’t be able to find this with anyone else – couldn’t find this with anybody else.

Her took off her lace camisole easily.  With her breasts now exposed he took the opportunity to lean forward and take a nipple in her mouth, sucking and teasing and biting down gently.  She threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back, and cradled his head in her hands before tugging on the tufts of his hair gently.  She took his shirt off easily.  Over it went, across the room, and she moved down his body to slip his boxers off slowly.

“Briony…” he managed to mumble out as she stayed there, grabbing his already hard cock in her hands.

“Shhhh,” she shushed him for the umpteenth time that night.  She began stroking it and watched as he gulped.  “I got you, baby.”

“I d…I don’t want to cum in your mouth,” he mumbled.  “Don’t – when I say--”

“Mmkay,” she said quickly, licking the tip of his cock.  “Just say the words,” she said in an almost playful tone before dipping down and taking him in her mouth.

He gathered some of her hair in his hand to get it out of her face; he didn’t want his view to be obstructed as she bobbed up and down, his cock disappearing inside her mouth further and further until he felt the head of his cock touch the back of her throat.  He closed his eyes momentarily, relishing in the feeling.  “Fuck, baby,” he sighed out.  

Bee let out a mischievous giggle, her fingernails digging lightly into his thigh.  “You like that, don’t you?” she asked as she scratched down slowly.  Morgan nodded his head desperately.  “You love it when I suck your cock.”

“Y-Yes,” he stuttered out.  “Fuuuck Briony, I love it when my cock is down your throat.”  He felt her dip down again, her tongue swirling around the tip, licking the pre-cum greedily.  “You better start touching yourself,” he told her.  

He watched as she slipped a hand down her body and underneath her shorts, wiggling out of them with ease.  By now, he was rock hard, and when Bee looked up at him with her big green eyes before she took him in her mouth all the way, hitting the back of her throat again, his hips buckled and he let out a loud groan.  She gagged slightly, his movements shoving his cock deeper into her throat, but when he looked at her again, she was already looking at him, a slight smile in her eyes that drove him fucking crazy.  “Briony…p-p-please--”

She ignored him, looking away and focusing on her movements instead, and the feeling of his hand tugging at her hair slightly so he could get a better look at her.  His grunts and movements gave her the confidence to keep going, to take risks and be as daring as she could.  It wasn’t long, though, before Morgan’s breath became heavier, his chest rising and falling with every gasp her took.  “B-Briony…”

She moaned on his cock in response, taking him to the back of her throat one more time before her mouth left his cock with a large pop.  “I want more of your cock, baby.  Just cu--”

“N-No,” he stuttered out.

“Babyyyyy,” she mewled, kissing the tip.

“No.  I want…I…get up here,” he huffed out.  

“Ba--” she tried again, but Morgan wasn’t having any of it.  His hand left her hair as he leaned forward, pulling her up and flipping her onto her back on the bed, his large body immediately over hers as he grabbed at her thighs and wrapped her legs around him.  He didn’t wait – there was no time to wait – and entered her quickly, the feeling of her warm walls around his cock causing him to moan out again.  

“Holy fuck Mo,” she gasped out, her legs wrapped tightly around his torso so he stayed buried deep inside of her, not allowing him to move just yet.  “Fuck baby.”

“Who gets too fill you up, Briony?”

“You, baby.”

“Who?”

“You, Mr. Rielly.  Only you get to fill me up,” she pulled his head down to kiss him passionately, lips and tongues everywhere.  

Morgan bit down on her bottom lip, dragging it away with him as he straightened out his back and unwrapped her legs from his body.  He brought them both together, keeping them over his shoulder as he looked down at her, her body flush with desire.  “You okay?” he asked.  She nodded her head quickly.  “You want my cock buried deep inside of you?”

“Yes Mr. Rielly,” she nodded her head.  

He began moving, slowly at first, her breasts bouncing along every time he thrust into her.  He would watch her breasts bouncing like that all night if he could.  He progressively kept getting rougher and rougher until he was pounding into her, her moans and cries fuel for him to give her more. “You like it when I fuck you like this?”

“Y-Yes,” it was her turn to stutter out.  “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

He could feel the heat inside of him growing.  He grabbed at her legs that were over his shoulder and pushed them forward, into her body, changing the angle so he could go even deeper.  She let out a string of expletives at the new feeling, her cries out music to his ears.  “S’deep babe,” she could barely get the words out.

“You like that?”

“Yes Mr. Rielly.  Yes.  I love it when you fuck my pussy hard like that.”

“Are you gonna make that pretty pussy cum for me, Briony?”

She could only nod her head as he continued to pound into her, fast and rough and wild, until he felt her walls clench around him and heard her scream out his name over and over again.  At the sound of his name escaping her lips so desperately and full of want, he exploded inside of her, leaning further into her so the angle was just right.  Bee huffed, trying to catch her breath.  

“Stay right there,” Morgan mumbled quickly.

“W…What?” she asked not understanding why he’d say such a thing.  Where the fuck was she going to go?

It didn’t take long for her to find out.  Two of his fingers slipped into her pussy quickly, causing her to gasp out, and they began moving quickly in and out of her, not allowing her to catch her breath or settle down from her first orgasm.  “Mo...” she gasped out, but instead of answering her he licked his way down her body.  He was being gentle but rough with his fingers, and she squirmed as she was pinned beneath him.  “Mo Mo Mo Mo Mo…” she kept repeating his name as he finally attached his mouth to her clit, lapping and sucking like he was drinking a thick milkshake.  “Mo, fuck, please.”

“All mine,” he mumbled against her pussy.  “All fucking mine.”

“All yours Mr. Rielly.  All yours,” she breathed out, grabbing hold of his hair.  Her body gyrated at the sensation and it was too much; in no time, she was cumming again, the sound of her wetness and Morgan’s fingers still moving in and out of her just amplifying it all.  He lapped up every last bit before moving back up, squishing her beneath his body as he kissed her.  

“I love you Briony,” he mumbled against her lips.  

She could taste her juices on his lips as she continued to kiss him.  “I love you too baby.  So much.”

***

“Wow, Ms. McTavish, you’re a natural!” Chef Michael smiled as Bee began basting the chicken breast cooking in the pan.  The chef looked over to Morgan, who had given up a long time ago and chose instead to just watch – Bee had no problem cooking his chicken breast too.  “You’re a lucky guy, eh?”

“The luckiest,” Morgan smiled as he watched Bee concentrating on the basting. 

“Does she cook a lot at home?”

Morgan nodded his head.  “My specialty is grilled cheese and breakfast for dinner.  She does everything else.”

Chef Michael focused his attention back to Bee.  “Alright Ms. McTavish, we need to let it simmer now.  Let’s focus on those broccolini sautéing with the garlic.  Think we should add more?”

“You can never have too much garlic.”

Chef Michael looked over at Morgan again.  “My kinda girl!”

“I learned some of my cooking skills from an Italian,” Bee continued, stirring up the broccolini.  “If a recipe called for two garlic cloves he’d put five.”

“Who are your friends?  Your family?  I need to meet these people!” Chef Michael exclaimed, so enthusiastic about everything.  “Let’s mince some more garlic in there.”

When all was said and done, Bee had perfectly prepared two plates of creamy chicken in a white wine sauce, roasted Japanese sweet potatoes, and sautéed garlic broccolini.  It smelled heavenly, and Morgan could tell she was so proud of herself as she fixed her plate with the last of the brocollini, Chef Michael instructing her on how to present everything beautifully.  When she finished, he presented them with a bottle of white wine from the winery to have with their meal, uncorking it and pouring it for them.  

“You two can bring your dinners out onto the patio with you.  Ray will come to clean up the pans and dishes while you eat,” he said.

Morgan nodded but Bee furrowed her brows.  “Oh, there’s no need for someone to clean up.  We can just do that after.”

Chef Michael paused his movements momentarily.  “No no Ms. McTavish, it’s fine.  Ray will be in any second with the busser to take everything away.”

“I insist--”

“No ma’am, it’s fine,” Chef Michael stressed.  “It’s part of the service.  You can just enjoy your meal on the patio.  You worked hard on it.”

“Bumblebee,” Morgan said gently.  “It’s alright.  We can go.”

She looked between Morgan and Chef Michael hesitantly before giving in.  “Okay.  Um, thank you,” she said, more awkwardly than she would have liked.  “Are you positive?  Because I can just wash everything after dinner.  It’s no big deal.”

Chef Michael let out a laugh.  “Go enjoy your meal Ms. McTavish.  And have a good night.”

Bee followed Morgan out onto the patio with her plate and wine glass, his own already on the table.  She looked back into the room as Morgan closed the sliding door, watching as Chef Michael gathered all the dirty cutlery and utensils and put them all in the sink.  She looked to Morgan, who had pulled out her chair for her.  “Does that usually happen?” she asked.

“Does what usually happen?”

“People cleaning up after you in these fancy shmancy places,” she clarified, setting her plate and wine down on the table.

“If you request for butler service, yes.  But we didn’t get that,” Morgan said, knowing that would be her next question; that she would give him one of her looks if he did.  “I think it’s just a part of the service they offer with the chef.  I think they figure you’d want to eat right after instead of clean up.”

“It’s a bit…I mean, I can clean up after myself.”

“Not everybody is responsible and sensible like you,” he leaned his head down to kiss her quickly.  “Now, let’s eat, shall we?  I want to have a romantic dinner with my girlfriend.”

Romantic it was.  Morgan couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.  The scenery spread out before them was beautiful – just like everything else was in British Columbia – but he could only transfix his eyes on her, watching her as she ate and listening to anything she began talking about – how it was supposed to get cool that night, how Angie had sent her a new video of Bruce with the zoomies, how Mark had texted her that they had made record profits the past month for a particular client of theirs.  If her voice were the only thing he heard for the rest of his life, he’d still die a happy man.  

When they finished their meal, Bee stacked their plates on top of one another.  She brought them into the villa, setting them in the sink before popping her head out the sliding door.  “Is there a way you can call so they can come get these plates and not bother us for the rest of the night?” she asked.  “I don’t want anyone coming back in.  I just want to watch the sunset with you.”

“Yeah, of course,” Morgan nodded his head, getting up from his seat.  “I’ll call.”

“Good.  I’m going to the washroom,” she said, disappearing into the bedroom.  

After some time, Ray was back to collect their plates and ask if they wanted anything else taken care of the night.  Morgan declined, thanking him, and let him go for the night, making sure to lock the door behind him as Ray left.  He found it a bit peculiar that Bee was still in the washroom.  He hoped the food didn’t get to her; there’d be some strongly worded complaints if it did.  

“Bumblebee?  You alright in there?” he called out.  He glanced at the screen door quickly to see the sunset in full bloom.  

“I’m okay,” she said.  “Is Ray gone?”

“Ray’s gone,” Morgan confirmed.  “You feeling okay, Bumblebee?”

“I’m feeling fine,” she responded, but he could tell her voice was a little off.  “Can you…um…can you make sure the door is locked?”

“Already is.”

“Okay.  Can you come into the bedroom?”

Morgan furrowed his brows.  “Of course,” he said.  “Are you sure you’re okay, Bumblebee?”

“I’m fine,” she confirmed, still calling out from the closed washroom.  “Just…you know…get comfy.  Change into your pyjamas.  I’ll be out soon and we’ll go out and watch the sunset.”

Morgan did as she said, stripping himself down and changing into his pyjama bottoms.  He sat in the chair, folding the jeans he had been wearing, before the light in the bedroom mysteriously turned off.  He looked up, only the light from the sunset peeking through the window.  “Bumblebee?” he saw her stand outside the doorway to the washroom.

“Hey.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Good thing you’re already sitting in the chair.  Topless, even,” there was a slight laugh in her voice, not answering his question.  She turned on the lamp, illuminating the room romantically.  He noticed she was wearing a robe.  She never wore a robe at home.  

“What’s this?” he asked, his eyes wide as he noticed it was a silk robe, lace trim dangling from the ends of sleeves.

Bee smiled shyly.  “Just a little something.”

“Just a little something, huh?” Morgan gave her an up-down, throwing his jeans onto the floor beside him.

“Mhm,” she nodded her head, playing with the tassels that tied the robe together.  “You know…I bet all that cooking must have taken a lot out of you,” she winked.

Morgan couldn’t help but giggle slightly.  “Oh, it did.  I am spent.”

“Well then.  Just sit back and let me give you a show,” she smiled devilishly.

“A show?” Morgan asked.  Bee nodded her head slightly.  “You…you planned something?”

“Is that okay?”

Morgan couldn’t help but let out a light laugh.  His body already felt on fire.  She had planned something – with that robe on, and whatever else was underneath it – and was asking if it was okay?  “Of course baby,” he said softly.  “Let me see.  Let me see what you’ve planned.”

Standing far away from him, she bent over and leaned forward, placing a quick kiss on his lips.  “I trust you.”

“And I trust you.  And I love you.”

“Good to know.  Because by the end of this I have every intention of you fucking me like you don’t.”

Morgan’s pupils dilated.  He gulped nervously.  He watched as Bee straightened herself out and took a few steps back, playing again with the tassels on the robe before she started to sway her hips slowly back and forth.  She worked on untying the tassels slowly, achingly so, and Morgan could feel himself getting hard with each passing hip sway.  Eventually, she pulled, untying the bow and letting it fall, the robe becoming looser.  A hint of pink lace peeked its way out of the robe.

“Briony…” Morgan barely made out her name.

“Yeah baby?” she asked in an innocent voice, her fingertips gliding along the edge of the fabric near her chest.

“What…what did you--”

“Shhhh baby,” she cooed, approaching him slowly, seductively.  “What did I tell you?”

“But baby--” he tried reaching out to grab the fabric of the robe.

She smacked his hand away quickly.  He looked at her in the eye, shocked.  “Don’t touch me,” she ordered.  “Don’t touch me unless I tell you.  Just watch.”

She saw his chest rise and fall dramatically.  “Briony--” he tried to grab at her again.  

“Don’t.  Touch.  Me,” she stressed, smacking his hand away once more.  “Unless you want me to stop.  Then you’ll have to take care of that,” she eyed down to the growing bulge in his pants, “all alone.”

There was a fire in her eyes and Morgan knew she meant it.  This was completely new – he was completely blind-sided – but he wasn’t exactly complaining.  He loved seeing this sort of confidence from Bee.  He thought it partly cute, partly evil that she had planned this – masterminded it from the beginning.  He nodded his head, agreeing with her.  He couldn’t formulate a word.  There was no point.

She took a couple of small steps back – far enough so Morgan couldn’t reach out, and far enough so he could get a full body view – and started to pull the robe down her shoulders slowly, letting it fall to the floor dramatically revealing, inch by inch, the blush pink floral lace bralette and garter set, complete with a matching pair of pantyhose.  

“Oh my fucking God,” Morgan mumbled in disbelief.

A smile adorned Bee’s face.  “Do you like, Mr. Rielly?”

Morgan nodded, beginning to feel an uncomfortable strain in his pants.  “Yes,” he nodded his head almost desperately.  “Yes.  Yes.  I love it,” he was a gibbering mess.  

“D’you like the colour?”

“Yes.”

“And the lace?”

“Yes.”

“What about the garter?  And the pantyhose?”

“I love it all,” the desperation was evident in his voice.  “I love it all.  Every fucking piece of it.”

“Good,” she bit her bottom lip, running her fingers along the lace of the thong that hung on her hips.  She took a step towards him.  “So if I came closer…” another step, “and closer,” another step, “and closer,” one final step, “you’d be able to keep your hands to yourself?”

Morgan huffed out a breath.  “I don’t…”

“If I put my hand on your chest…” she moved to do exactly that, walking to his side.  His head followed her as far as it could until she was behind him.  “If my breath grazed the back of your neck…” she moved, again, to do exactly that as she stood behind him, her hand still on his chest as she gave the skin on his neck a quick kiss.  She took a few steps so she was standing in front of him again, turning away so her back was towards him, her ass in full view.  “If I sat in your lap, would you be able to keep your hands to yourself?”

She didn’t give him the chance to answer.  She lowered herself onto his lap, swaying her hips back and forth for good measure.  She heard Morgan grunt as she did so, absolutely fucking loving that she was getting such a reaction out of him.  She felt powerful.  Sexy.  Sensual.  She could feel the erection already in his pants and it made her the most confident she’d ever been.

“Fucking hell, Briony,” Morgan whispered.  Like clockwork, it didn’t take long for her to feel his hand on her ass, even if it was just a quick caress.  

She rose up quickly and slapped his hand away for a third time.  He whined out in protest as she walked away from him, flipping her hair over her shoulder to look at him.  “No.  Touching.”

“But Briony--”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“NO!  No no no,” he shook his head.  “Please God no.”

“No more touching.  Do you understand me?” she said, her voice seductive but stern.  “No.  More.  Touching.”

“I won’t.  I won’t.”

“Promise me,” she demanded.

“I promise.  I promise you,” he was desperate, so desperate.  “I swear to you, I won’t touch you.  Fuck Briony, fuuuuck, I w…I won’t touch you.  Not unless you tell me.  Just get back here.”

“Not until you beg.”

Morgan whined out again.  “Briony.  Briony please.”

“Beg.”

Morgan could swear there were tears forming in his eyes.  “Please Briony, I promise.  I’m begging you.  Come back here so I can look at you.  Please.  Please.”

Briony smiled, biting down on her bottom lip again.  “If you touch me without my permission again it’s over.  Keep your hands to yourself.”

Morgan nodded his head.  “I will.  I’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise.  Now please.  Please come back here.”

Bee sauntered over to him, bending over so her breasts, covered by the delicate lace, were right in his face.  She leaned forward so the material gently grazed against his nose and lips.  “Lace is your favourite, isn’t it?” she asked, already knowing the answer.  Morgan nodded his head.  “You always go crazy for me in lace.”

“You look perfect in it,” his voice was low.  “You make it look perfect.  Every time.”

She straightened out briefly so she could turn around again, her ass facing him as she sat down on his lap.  “You love spanking me too, don’t you.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath.  “Y-Yes,” he stuttered out.

She looked over to see his hands gripping the armrests of the chair, his knuckles almost completely white.  Excellent.  “Especially when I’ve been a good girl?”

“I…y…yes,” he huffed out, stuttering again.  She watched as his hands shook through the grip he had on the armrests.

“Am I being a good girl right now?” she asked, grinding down against him gently.  

“I’d reckon you’re being a bad girl right now.”

Bee let out a giggle, looking at him over her shoulder.  “Is that so?”

“You’re being a very bad girl teasing me like this,” he reasoned.

“Whoops,” she rolled her eyes playfully at his answer.  “Sorry not sorry.”

“Briony, please.”

“Please what?”

“I need to touch you,” he begged.

“I don’t think you’ve earned that yet.”

“Wh – I – please,” he continued to beg.  “You don’t understand, Briony.”

“Not yet,” she shook her head.  She stood up again to face him, placing her hands on his chest.  His eyes were pleading with her, but she didn’t budge.  “What do you think of the garter and pantyhose?” she asked again, just to torture him.

“I love it.  I love it all,” he said.  “It looks so, so sexy.  It’s driving me fucking crazy.”

Her hands made their way down his chest and over his bulge, settling on his knees as she shifted her weight from one leg to another again and again before flipping her hair in front of him dramatically.  She promised him she’d give him a show, so she was going to give him a show.  She incorporated her movements into pulling his pants off of him, revealing how rock hard he was.  After scratching her nails up and down his thighs, she settled them on his knees once more before spreading his legs open dramatically.  Morgan looked at her wide-eyed before she squatted down between his legs, her hips swaying from side to side.

“Jesus fucking Christ Briony,” his voice was frantic as she spun around on her tiptoes, still squatted, before swaying her hips back up into his face.  “Briony.”

“You like that?” she ignored his pleading tone, knowing all he wanted was to touch her.

“Yes.  Please Briony, can I t--”

“What about when I do this,” she said, spinning around to face him before climbing on to his lap.  She flipped her hair in his face again, and began to grind down.  His hands left the armrest dramatically, ready to grab her, but with every ounce of will he had left in – which wasn’t much – he balled his hands into fists and kept them away from her.  She shoved her chest into his face, her hands on his shoulders and nails digging into his skin.

“Briony – you fucking – you don’t – you can’t--” he muttered out.

“You want to fuck me with this on, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“You don’t want me to take it off?”

“No.  Keep it on.  Keep it all on.  I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to fucking walk tomorrow,” he told her as she grinded down on him again, his cock rubbing up against the fabric of her thong.

She smiled.  “That’s what I like to hear, Mr. Rielly.”

“Can I touch you?  Please?”

“No.”

“Briiiiiiony.”

“Not.  Yet,” she said, arching her back.  “Tell me something Morgan,” she began.  He gave her cut eye.  Her right hand slipped down between their bodies to her hot core.  “Do you like it when I touch myself?”

Morgan huffed.  “I like it when I touch you better.”

“Why?”

“Because I know how to make you feel good,” he said.  “Because I like making you feel good.”

“And when you get to touch me, what are you going to do to me?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

She smiled.  She grabbed his cock without warning and began to stroke it teasingly.  She felt his hips buckle at her touch and knew she had teased and agonized him long enough.  She grinded down on his lap one last time, for good measure, feeling just how hard his cock was.  “Morgan?” she whispered in his ear.

“Yes Briony?”

“Make me be your good girl.  Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Morgan was like a man possessed.  In what felt like less than a second he grabbed her, picked her up, and threw her on the bed.  He climbed onto the bed after her and flipped her over so she was flat onto her stomach, her legs spread apart for him but her ass slightly raised.  She arched her neck to look behind her and saw him hovering over her.  “You think you can play games like that with me and get away with it?” he asked her, his voice low and coarse and his hands went to the small of her back, pressing down so she stayed laying flat on the bed.

“You liked it, didn’t you Mr. Rielly?” she asked, her voice playfully innocent in tone.  “You kept telling me how much you liked it.  You begged to keep me close.”

He leaned forward so he could whisper in her ear.  “Now I’m gonna make you beg,” he said, watching as her lips curved into a smile.  

“Like your good girl?”

“Like my good girl,” he nodded his head.  “I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Yes Mr. Rielly.”

“You can’t cum until I say so.  Understood?”

“Yes Mr. Rielly,” she nodded her head, feeling his body loom over hers.  He was still holding her down so she could barely move.  “Mr. Rielly, if I be a good girl will you spank me?”

Morgan laughed mischievously.  “We’ll see about that.  Maybe if you ask nicely,” he said.  

Without warning, he entered her hard and quick, unable to wait any longer.  Bee cried out automatically at the feeling – everything from the speed, to the size of his cock, to his holding her down, to the angle that he entered her, made him go so deep that she swore she could already see stars.  He didn’t start slow either; he was desperate and needy and didn’t have time for any of that, so he rocked into her hard and fast.  She screamed out in pleasure over and over again, savouring the feeling.  He was being a bit rougher with her than normal, but she loved every second of it.  She wanted it.  She had asked for it, and he had complied.  He was doing exactly what she wanted him to do, and they had the trust in each other to do this.

The way he was holding her lower back down, keeping her in place, meant the angle was deep – and with the force he kept pounding into her with, she knew she wouldn’t be able to last long.  But just as he complied – as best he could, he did slip up twice – to her rule of ‘no touching’, she knew she would have to comply to his rules now too.   “Mr. Rielly,” she said between her screams and moans, “Mr. Rielly it’s so deep.”

“You like it when it’s deep like that, huh?” he asked.

“Your cock is so big and it always goes so deep,” she said, knowing it would stroke his ego.  “Can you spank me, please?”

She heard Morgan huff out a laugh, barely missing a beat as he continued to fuck her.  “No.”

“But Mr. Rielly--”

“No.”

“Please Mr. Rielly, I want to be spanked so bad.”

“I don’t think you’ve earned that yet,” he threw her own words back at her.  She almost regretted the decision to use that language when she was teasing him – almost.  But there was no way she could ever regret anything that brought her so much pleasure.  “You have to beg, remember?”

Morgan could hear her whimper.  “Pleeeease Mr. Rielly.  Please spank me.”

She felt one of his hands leave the grip he had on her lower back and she prepared herself.  Instead, she felt him grab her hair and tug her towards him, so her back was flush against his chest momentarily.  His hand snaked around and went to her clit, and he bit down on the skin of her neck before moving up to her ear.  “Beg.”

“Please Mr. Rielly,” she was practically on the verge of tears.  “Please please please, I’m begging you to spank me.”

“If I spank you are you gonna cum?”

“No,” she answered automatically, shaking her head slightly.  “Not until you tell me to.”

He smiled, a throaty laugh escaping him.  “That’s right.  That’s my good girl,” he cooed, pushing her back down so she was flush against the bed again.  With one hand on her lower back holding her down, the other hand spanked her ass.  She let out a cry of pleasure, and with another spank, another cry.

“Harder,” she mewled out

“Harder?”

“Fuck me harder, Mr. Rielly.  Spank me harder.”

Her spanked her again, red marks already appearing on her ass from before.  He rubbed the area gently before spanking it one more time.  “You want to cum, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, not bothering to hide how close she was.  “I want to cum so bad.”

“If I spank you again will you cum?” he asked.  Bee nodded her head.  “Then no.”

“No, please,” Bee cried out.  “I can’t – I won’t--”

“Are you going to take more like a good girl?” he practically growled out, holding her down again with both hands now.  

Bee didn’t answer automatically this time.  She was trying to regain composure, trying to regain whatever semblance of sanity she had left in her body.  “Y-Yes…” she whispered, barely audible.

“Are you going to take more like a good girl?” Morgan asked, louder to insinuate how loud he wanted her to be.

“Yes,” she said aloud.

“Like my good girl?”

“Yes!” she screamed out.  “Like your good girl.  Always your good girl, Mr. Rielly.”

Morgan continued pounding into her for a while, even harder than before.  Bee’s cries became louder, as did the sound of cock throbbing in and out of her hot core.  With the prelude leading up to this, the dirty talk, the sound of Bee’s moans and cries, and the fact that he probably could have cum while sitting in that God forsaken chair if Bee had grinded down on him just one more time, he was surprised to have lasted this long anyway.  He could feel his body getting flushed and hot and knew he was close.

“Are you ready for my cum, Briony?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Rielly,” her voice was coarse from all the noise she was making.  “I’m always ready for your cum.  Always.”

He spanked her again a few more times for good measure, getting some more desperate cries out of her, before tugging her hair one last time to bring her back against his chest.  “You’ve been such a good girl,” he cooed as he gave her a sloppy kiss.

“I love it when it’s like this,” she managed to get out through hooded eyes and desperate whispers.  “I love it when I’m your good girl.  When you take me from behind.  When you fuck me like I’ve never been fucked before.”

“You like me fucking you hard and fast?”

She nodded her head.  “I love it so much Mr. Rielly.”

He snaked a hand around her body and began rubbing circles on her clit.  “You ready to cum, Briony?”

“Yes.  Fuck, yes.  Please.”

“When I spank you I want you to cum,” he instructed her.  “And I don’t want you to stop.  Understood?”

“Yes.  Yes yes yes yes,” she said in hushed whispers.  

Bee waited a few moments, and when she didn’t feel the hard smack on her ass she whined.  She waited for another few moments – and still nothing.  She was desperate.  She was going to kill him.  She was going to cum any second.  “Mr. Ri--”

Smack!

She cried out, loud, her orgasm pulsating through her like a tidal wave, her entire body shaking and her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.  Morgan continued to pound in and out of her with his throbbing cock, while his hand continued to rub at her clit, giving her orgasm after orgasm, over stimulating her just how she liked it.  After what felt like a million of them – a million different orgasms, a million different cries, a million different moans and desperate shouts of his name – she finally, finally, felt his hot cum pour into her, filling her up as his cock twitched and throbbed inside of her.  She felt his body shake against hers, his own moans and desperate calls out of her name filling the air as they rode out their orgasms together, clinging on to one another.

Bee swore she could still feel an orgasm ride through her entire body as he pulled out, the both of them collapsing on the bed trying to catch their breath.  Her core was still so hot and sensitive as she curled up in Morgan’s arms, both their bodies hot and glistening with sweat.  She was surprised the lingerie made it through – that Morgan didn’t rip it off half way through or take it off with his teeth or something.  She was glad it got this reaction out of him.

“Bumblebee…” she heard Morgan’s voice, barely above a whisper.  “I wouldn’t have done that with anybody else but you.”

She smiled, curling further into his body.  “I wouldn’t have done that with anybody else either,” she responded, reaching down below their bodies to grab hold of his cock.  “Thank you for indulging me.  For giving me exactly what I wanted.”

“I love you so much,” he mumbled, feeling her put his softening cock at her core again, the heat still so comforting.  “I love you.  I love you.  I love you.”

***

Bee was a bit sad to leave Kelowna and the Okanagan area, after having experienced its beauty, great weather, and lovely people, but she had to remember she had Connor, Andy, and Shirley Rielly waiting for her on the other side, eagerly anticipating her presence in Vancouver for the second time that year.  Earlier that morning, she and Morgan had checked out of Hester Creek Winery, where they had been staying for the past three nights, and loaded everything into their rental car for their five hour road trip to Vancouver.  After a last minute stock up of the wine from the winery, and a very last minute stop at Tim Horton’s for some coffee and snacks to sustain themselves (like good Canadians) they were on their way, the GPS system directing them where to go.

“You tell me anytime you want to stop to take pictures,” Morgan said as they took the on-ramp onto the highway.  “It’s going to be a pretty scenic route.  Especially when we drive through the provincial park.”

“I will,” Bee smiled, stuffing a Timbit into her mouth before feeing Morgan one.  “I’ll try not to stop too much.  I don’t want this trip to take eight hours.”

“Nuh uh,” Morgan shook his head.  “You just tell me whenever you want to stop.  We can take ten hours.  It doesn’t matter.”

“Your parents are expecting us for dinner.”

“We’ll call them and tell them there’s traffic,” he said, his mouth still full with the Timbit.  He winked at Bee as she gave him one of her looks.

Morgan reached over the console and grabbed her thigh, exposed thanks to the pretty sundress she was wearing, squeezing it gently as the road opened before them.  It was there for a while, as they continued to drive on the open road, occasionally squeezing and massaging her skin before it crept higher and higher, getting dangerously close to her core.

“Keep your eyes on the road, you perv,” Bee placed her hand above Morgan’s to stop it from going any higher.  If it did, she knew he’d probably swerve off the road.

“I am keeping my eyes on the road,” he reasoned.  “My mind, on the other hand, isn’t on the road.”

Bee snorted, shaking her head playfully.  “You want to fuck me in this rental car, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

She couldn’t help but snort.  At least he was being honest.  “Why’re you so horny all the time?” she giggled.

“You make me.”

“If you keep it up we’re gonna end up having ten kids.”

There was a silence between the two.  It wasn’t awkward, or charged, or because either was tongue-tied and didn’t know what to say.  It was just…a silence.  A comfortable silence, the road of the car on the road filling the void, until Morgan spoke first.  “We’re not having ten kids.”

Bee couldn’t help but smile.  “No.  Definitely not.  I’m not doing that to my vagina.  We’re not the Duggars.”

“Two or three is good,” he said.

Bee nodded her head in agreement.  “Two or three.  One of each.  Whatever happens first.”

Morgan took his eyes off the road to look at her.  She noticed his smile.  How he was looking at her; like he’d just laid eyes on the image of perfection.  “Yeah.  You…you’ve thought about it, then?”

Bee nodded her head.  If she thought about the wedding, and establishing a life together, there was no way she didn’t think about kids either.  “Of course.  You know I want kids.”

“I know.  But like…”

“I want kids with you, if that was going to be your next question,” she said.  “I mean, there’s no question.  It’s you.  I’m not having anybody else’s kids.  I’m having your kids,” she stressed.  

“Okay,” he said, unable to contain the smile on his face.  “I uh…yeah.  Okay.”

“Tongue tied, are we?”

“No,” he kept trying to contain his smile.  “Not at all.  Just glad you’ve thought about it too.  That’s all.”

“I know…I know you’ve always initiated these conversations in the past,” she said, thinking out loud at this point.  “Whether drunk or tipsy or not.  But I think about this stuff do.  I do love you more than I can describe with words.  I just…I think because of my background, because what I’ve been through, I’m a bit less open about it.  Because my mom never wanted to hear it when I was a young kid, and because I never really loved her later on growing up.  But I do love you.  And like…I want everything with you.  A life.  A house.  Children.  I may not vocalize it, but I do.  And I don’t picture myself having all those things with anybody else.  I only want it with you.”

Morgan flipped his hand so he could hold hers and bring it across to his lips so he could kiss it and hold it across his chest.  “I only want it with you too,” he said, his lips rubbing against her hand.  “I’ve only ever wanted it with you.  And I want to give you all that.”

“I want to give it to you too.  This is a relationship.  A partnership.  We can give each other these things,” Bee clarified.

“Yeah.  You’re right.  That’s what I meant,” he nodded his head again, correcting himself.  “We can give each other these things.  A life.  A house.  Children.  But not for a while – children, anyway.  We…we’re already building a life together.”

“We are.”

“Everything else will come in time,” Morgan said confidently.  “I’m just…I know I’ve told you this before, but I thank my lucky stars every single day that it’s you in this life with me.”

Bee smiled again, unable to keep her eyes off of him.  “And I thank my lucky stars you sent a mojito to my table.”

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly imagines #morgan rielly fic #morgan rielly fan fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs imagines #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fan fic #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fan fic #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #hockey fan fic #alone together series

[bloodfcst-a]

given the revival of the vii fandom with all of the hullabaloo surrounding remake, i can think of no better time to do this meme. i also suggest you check out my updated nav page if you haven’t already! i worked really hard on it okay sobs.

things a new rp partner should know about me !

write 3-5 things a new rp partner (or those who want to be) should know about you and tag 3-5 people! it should be related to rp and not to other interests. 

tagged by: no one, but it’s a shame bc... i got thoughts. you were warned.

tagging: @angereve​ @enshijou​ @breselin​ @serophs​ @strfe​ @fractempyreal​ @extremepath​ @localmagicalboi​ @shimmerseas​ @duplikiss​ @verumking​ @asterites​ + if it strikes your fancy.

i. i am not your mother’s/father’s yu.ffie blog. while i do have a verse reserved for compilation content, that’s not the main premise of this blog. if you came here for oversexualized underage ninjas.... i’m going to have to direct you elsewhere. out here we’re primarily an adult modern interpretation... who does not daylight as a ninja constantly. she can, however, be a y.akuza or a sheltered member of high society who enjoys kicking ass for justice so if you’re interested in that, y’know. c’mon down.

ii. the typical ‘ yu.ffie is a kleptomaniac ’ / ‘ stop stealing my stuff ’ trope is like. one that grates my very existence. i have talked about this many times, but for those of you who are new: yufi has only stolen out of necessity to her cause. the only time i’ll refer to petty theft on this blog is if she like steals a fry or something. if we’re joking around, okay, but... please don’t consider that to be the sole core of her characterization. i’m begging. i’m on my knees. i’m warning you, i’ll cry and then i’ll probably ignore whatever post you’ve mentioned it in if you’re serious. just. don’t be that person if you’re following me.

if we’re going into it, the only times she’s stolen anything were: > in crisis core, as the ‘ treasure princess. ’  but this is arguable, as the treasure is truly up for grabs to start with & zack repeatedly goes after these locations she’s sent to him ( which, by the way, were sent to her from rufus to attempt to retaliate against + destroy shinra hq ). zack already knew what was up when: 1) she showed up in his spam folder; 2) she literally said she’s on the hunt for treasure; and 3) he knew at least after the second time that he was gon’ get goinked ( please see definition #2 ) so... can’t help him there. > in vanilla vii, when the party is foolish enough to meet her and not recruit her off the bat ( it be ya own self ). to be fair, 99% of her interactions with easterners / non-wutai prior to that moment had been people who either wanted to kill her or exploit her, so... it’s only self-preservation to use them before they use her or worse, leave her for dead. a sad reality for a 16 year old. > in vanilla vii, only after the party arrives to wutai & she thinks she can successfully finish her mission of “ getting all the strongest materia. ” after she’s captured, she does apologize, and then afterward makes cloud sign it in writing. so. y’know, she did learn from her mistake & said “ ugh, guess i gotta put that diplomacy training to use. ”

y’all could argue that she’s a thief class and that’s what they do, but note that it’s NOT one of her core skills-- it’s a MATERIA. which means everyone out there with a steal materia could be out here being a kleptomaniac. cloud? barret? tifa? red xiii? none of your favs are safe. her skills in the game, however, are shit called “ blood festival ” ( oh? see the username’s relevance all of a sudden? aha! ) and “ doom of the living. ”  she’s out here summoning ghosts and reigning otherworldly power on ur ass but... fandom wasn’t ready for that conversation !!  some folks were too BASIC and couldn’t handle her true strength... so i will gladly champion that for you.

iii. i like to emphasize that yufi is an emotionally strong yet traumatized figure, which stems from her origins and that i just put that in the forefront. we have a character who is haunted by her mother who died after childbirth, seemingly rejected from her father yet held to the highest of his standards, has attachment issues because she’s the “ black sheep ” and doesn’t just accept defeat or dejection even if it comes from her core community, survived multiple wars, has led in post-war rescue efforts on multiple occasions, was wrongfully imprisoned, was on the forefront of pandemic outbreaks as a first-responder, joins and rises to the top of an organization created to restore world order, is one of the two top operatives in said organization ( and the one out on the field longer--sorry vin.cent, but u only got involved at lu.cretia and when the actual gunshots disturbed your brooding and wine session filled isolation sessions. but like, mood tho ), pretends to be cheery despite clearly remembering all the hauntings and death and other bullshit she’s been facing since she was a toddler.... oh, and she disarmed bombs when her country was wrongfully targeted + used as political bait for terrorists...when she was a child. that’s canon, if we’re talking about  “ accuracy. ” even in vanilla vii, she had no outlets, no one to turn to, ‘cause everyone was cloud vc: “ not interested. ”  

so if you’re on this blog, it’s not like you won’t see happy  yufi... but realize that i recognize that she is multifaceted and has a lot of baggage. emotional issues which unfortunately i bring to every verse gfdohfofh but u know, it’s core to her character + y’all gon have to deal, or... idk, go find another yufi. i’m not forcing you to be here.

iv. in my opinion, the best plotting comes with ooc conversations/interactions. i’m not saying if we plot that we’re required to be friends, ‘cause i don’t wanna force anyone into friendship, but i truly believe that if you want super deep plots with frequent interactions, we should... probably talk more than once. pretty simple, imo !  sometimes people claim i play favorites, but i really don’t... if you never talk to me and you don’t respond to my attempts to interact, then how am i supposed to know you’re interested? 

as a general rule, i’ll put in as much effort as i receive. if i see you’re interested in me, if we’re really vibing when it comes to plotting, if you’re sending asks & liking posts, we’ve got some threads going, rad !  if i like starter calls and send you asks and message you and you never respond to me... ?  i’ll take that as a sign you don’t wanna talk + i should move on to someone else. if i’m wrong, well... do something to change my mind.

v. i know i went hard as fuck on this meme, but that’s bc I’M REALLY PASSIONATE ABOUT ABOUT THIS MUSE.  in reality i’m actually quite soft + a weenie babie. if you ask.......... most people, i think they’d say i try really hard to be approachable and adaptable. i think everyone who talks to me on discord laughs at me because i’m scared of the stupidest things + i love to make jokes and just be funny and relatable. so please be nice and love me and my sassy fighty extremely tough deprived child. we both need hugs. 

kthx i’m finally done.

#♝ mun. #long post / #WHEW. #also my nav legit has a f.a.q so like..... #i'm trying y'all ! #but ! if u never ask u'll never know. #until i decide to drop a wealth of knowledge on you all gdoifdhodgd #whoops my hand slipped......

[lightskinrry]

Escape.

the one where you and Harry are trapped in your apartment and you can’t escape the apartment nor your feelings (part four of Pivot)

A/N: Well I don’t know if this is the last part but here she is; part four of Pivot!! Just so you know if you’re a new reader this part is a stand alone you don’t need to read the other parts if you don’t want to!! (but i advise you to do it bc they’re great lmaofdkj)

Also when the time comes, I linked something for you, please, PLEASE, click and listen.

Word Count: 4.5k

TW: well i hope you have nothing against HARDCORE FLUFF.

thank you to my darling @belladonna-styles for reading it over!

Read Part One! Read Part Two! Read Part Three!

Is there a best way to get over your feelings for someone you’re not supposed to have feelings for, other than being trapped with them in a half empty apartment with no signal and no light?

Yes. Yes, there’s definitely a better way. And you wished you knew what it was because right now you were just on the verge of a mental breakdown. You spent weeks trying to tell Harry about your feelings, every try ending with you brushing it off as a joke or him being too oblivious to understand.

You tried to tell him when he came back from his date for movie night and ended up saying nothing and daydreaming about him for hours.

You told him that you liked him like more than a friend while going out for lunch once and when he gave you the weirdest look, you just blatantly said “I like you like my best friend! That’s what I meant!” and his dumb ass bought it!

You tried slick moves like getting more physical, hugging him longer, kissing his cheek lower, holding his hand randomly. And what? After two weeks of being the most affectionate towards him, he set you up on a date with one of his friends… Telling you that he “noticed you needed some attention lately”. God, he was so obnoxious. And still, you could only see how sweet of him it was to try to make you feel better. Because you’re his friend.

You ran out of ideas to tell him subtly but you just couldn’t get yourself to be upfront about it. Last time you tried he almost choked on his food and gave you a look that screamed “Please tell me this is a joke.” So you didn’t really want to try that again.

But if anything could help, being locked inside of your apartment while the courant is off and there’s no signal, was definitely not the way to go.

They cut off the electricity in Bexley for a few hours and you didn’t know when it would be back. After Harry picked you up from work, you dropped by your apartment and invited him up, in a last hope of getting him to fall in love with you, maybe.

And when he was about to leave, it seemed that the universe told him to fuck off and stay. Your key didn’t work anymore. You couldn’t open the door and the sun was setting. No light, no signal and locked inside. You thought it would only be the matter of a few minutes, but it has been an hour, already.

You heard Harry’s voice from the hallway that leads to the bathroom.

“I can’t find a flashlight!”

“Well yeah, duh. We’re not in 2007 anymore and I’m not a dad.”

You turned on the flash of your phone. You had less than 10% battery left and Harry’s phone was dead. A nightmare. You lit up the issue of the hallway, the light following Harry’s steps.

He faked a laugh. “You know, you’re a funny girl, Y/N? Did you know that?”

You slapped his arm slightly and rolled your eyes. “I know.”

“Well, looks like we’re trapped.” He looked around him, squinting in the darkness that surrounded the both of you.

“I can’t believe the door won’t open.”

Harry placed his arms in front of him and stepped carefully to the door, trying to pull on the knob.

“Maybe I should try to knock it down?”

“Yeah sure, Bambi. Break your shoulder against my apartment door. Sounds like a great idea.”

He grimaced at you while you held the light of your phone in his face.

“I’m strong enough.”

You smiled at him and cupped his arms with your hands and pressed them. “Oh, I’m sure you are, Bambi. But it’s a steel door. Unless you want your shoulder on the floor. Don’t try anything silly.”

He groaned before perambulating inside the apartment. He was so cute when he was in a helpless situation. He just wanted to do good. You watched him stroll around carefully not wanting to fall. You lit up his figure with the flash of your phone, watching his socked feet roaming around on the wooden floor, his hands playing with the strings of his spice world hoodie and his light jeans slightly cuffed on his ankles. He looked in a deep reflection. You chuckled to yourself as you watched him.

“The courant should be back any minute now and we’ll call my landlord to open the door from the other side.”

You wished the situation would be different; not much to do with the courant being back or the signal on your phone. You wished he would relax and turn this into something romantic; kissing in the dark, dancing in the moonlight, having sex on the floor. You squeezed your thighs to the thought of his hands wandering over your bare skin, his fingertips dancing on your lips before one of his finger slipped into your mouth; his hand slightly grabbing your jaw, bringing your face to his, just so he could bite your lower lip...

You might have moaned a little bit because Harry looked at you from the side with an odd look on his face. You couldn’t even daydream in peace, now.

“I… I’m gonna look for some candles, okay?”

He walked up to you. “Yeah, good idea. How much battery left on your phone?”

You clicked the button on your phone and showed him the screen. It read 5%. Damn Iphones and their nice designs but stupidly short batteries.

You saw Harry smirked. “I didn’t know I was your lock screen, Milkie.”

You pinched your lips before bringing your phone back to you. “Well… I like this picture...”

How would you not? His white cream suit, the tiny tank top, the pink sunglasses, he looked scrumptious in this picture. Everything in this picture screamed ‘SEX’. And not that you never thought of him that way before, there was always pictures that made you clench your jaw and bite your lip but never that triggered a daydream or… made you moan his name while masturbating. It was your thing lately. Moaning and screaming his name while getting off. You’d feel shameful and guilty once you’re done because you never wanted him this way. But now, you just accept your fate, you want him this way. You tell him or you get over it. No other options.

You roamed around the room, looking for candles, you always had some scented ones for your sunday baths, you looked around quickly since your phone could shut down any minute now. You grabbed the ones in the drawer in the bathroom, the one in the cabinet and the ones on your bedside and brought them to the living-room.

Harry already gathered the ones that were on the counter on the floor. It looked like the two of you were about to perform some Ouija. It could be fun. But Harry’s a wimp, he wouldn’t be into it.

“There.”

You placed yours on the floor, and scattered them around the room. You checked the battery on your phone; 2% left and you still needed to find the lighter. The tension was at its peak. Will you make it?

You looked through the drawer in the kitchen. You always hide your lighter in case your mom makes a surprise pop out. She didn’t need to know that sometimes you lit up a joint by the window. But it wasn’t in the drawer. You felt Harry pressing his chest against your back.

“No lighter?”

He looked in the next drawer. Where the hell did you leave that lighter? You tried remembering the last time you used it… Harry came by and you two smoked a blunt while getting into one of your terrible analyses of your favorite albums. This time it was Hejira by Joni Mitchell. You could remember sitting by the window and watching the rain pour as he passed you the joint but the memory of the lighter was nowhere to be found.

It’s the moment when you looked outside the windows and saw the crescent moon that the memory struck you. It apparently struck Harry at the same time because the two of you turned around in a rush at the same moment and hit each other.

“In the pencil case!”

You went through the case looking for the lighter, holding your phone tighter as if it would prevent it from shutting off. You grabbed the lighter and rushed to the first candle to finally light it up. And as you placed it back on the ground, your phone shut down.

Every candle was lit. Each at a place in the apartment to bathe everything in a dim light. You made space on the floor and placed the cushions and plaids on the ground, surrounding them with a few cierges. You opened the windows, the sound of the traffic outside slightly resounding inside of the apartment. It was only you and Harry, with the moon and the traffic sounds in the background. The orange and red beams of the candlelights filling the space.

You stood behind the counter and poured two glasses of wine and carefully made your way to the little nest of cushions where Harry was seated, tuning his guitar. He left one here the last time he came, just in case. You eyed him with fondness, following his fingers moving on the instrument’s heads and stroking the chords.

“What are you going to play?”

He grinned at you before getting his focus back on his guitar. “You’ll see.”

The rain started pouring outside, and a light breeze filled the room through the windows, not strong enough to blow the candles but soft enough to make Harry’s hair dance a little bit in the air. You could hear the traffic from outside and the rain hitting your window.

Harry started playing the first notes and you recognized the song immediately. It was Tiny Dancer by Elton John. He played the intro before he started to sing. His voice filled the room, like a warm embrace, you felt it vibrate around you.

You sipped on your glass of wine, your eyes tracing Harry’s face and body. His floppy hair falling softly on his forehead, his mouth opening wider to hit higher notes, his jaw clenching, the veins of his neck, his shoulders tensing and relaxing as his arms carried the guitar, and his hands playing the chords; his fingers pinching and stroking them.

“Hold me closer tiny dancer, count the headlights on the highway.”

His eyes moved from his guitar to glance at your features. He was singing to you, now.

“Lay me down in sheets of linen. You had a busy day today.”

How intimate was that? He was in your apartment, sitting on the floor with you, serenading you. You wished he would kiss you once the song was done. You wished he would make love to you to the sound of the world crashing outside, to the melody of the rain hitting against the windows, to the raw silence of the room. You wanted to fill the air with muffled breathes and giggles, with noises of skin slamming and bites, moans and screams, a cry maybe, just sounds of love. You wanted to fill the air with love.

“You had a busy day today.”

Harry stroked the last note before placing his guitar next to him and taking a sip of wine.

“That was incredible. Your voice, Bambi, it’s… Wonderful.”

You cheered as you brought your drink to your lips.

“Thanks, Milkie. That’s really sweet.”

You gazed at him in utter admiration. Everything about him made you swoon. He was so beautiful in the candle light.

“You know I never get why you call me Bambi? I mean… I like it, but I always thought it was like… a Scrubs reference, you know?”

“Oh it definitely is.” You chuckled a little bit, Carla would always call J.D ‘Bambi’ and you might have picked it up from there, but there was more to it. “I think it fits you well, though. It’s because you’re really soft. You’re cute and I want to squish you and protect you and boop your nose, and kiss you. You’re Bambi. My Bambi, you know?”

You realised as soon as the words left your mouth that your glass was almost empty. Harry’s cheeks were painted that pretty shade of red and he couldn’t hide his smile.

“I like it…”

You grinned widely before re-adjusting yourself on the pillows beneath you. You watched Harry look around the room before his gaze laid on you again.

“It’s a pretty romantic setting, don’t you think?”

You choked a little bit on your gulp. “What?”

He giggled for a second. “I said it’s a romantic setting. Are you okay?”

You coughed while nodding along to answer him. It was romantic. The setting, of course. Not your relationship. Sadly.

“Yeah… The candles… The moon… The plaids on the floor. It’s all about setting the mood...”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “Setting the mood for?”

You blushed a little bit and hid it behind a giggle. “The mood for sex.”

He gave you a smug smile and shrugged. “Definitely.”

An awkward silence installed as you watched him sip on his wine. What did he mean ‘definitely’? Was he in the mood? Was he just being a tease? Are you trying to read too much into his words, again?

You stood up to go for a refill. You walked to the counter and poured some more wine in your glass.

“So… What about Lucas? Still in the flirting phase?” You asked Harry from the counter as you closed the bottle.

“No… We’re… Too different, it seems. Just didn’t work out.”

They went out a few times, and you stopped getting updates about two weeks ago. You thought they might have drifted apart. Harry was never too keen on talking about his relationships. He would tell you about the first date or if he liked someone but then you’d just get random updates when he’s telling you about his day and brings it up. You never pushed it on him.

You tried to hide your smile as you walked back to your seat, your glass in one hand and the bottle in the other so neither of you would have to get up for a refill again.

“Ah… That’s too bad. Do you… Are you… seeing someone else, lately?”

“No…” He scrunched his nose. “I’m a bit off, romantically talking…”

You raised your eyebrows at him and watch him laugh softly.

“I don’t know… I feel like I want to be in a relationship but at the same time I don’t. And the dating world is scary. You never know if you can trust someone, you know?”

“Yeah I understand. But sometimes what you’re looking for is right under your nose and you’re just too blind to see…Or too stupid.” You pinched your lips in a smile as you looked at him directly in the eyes. A sign he’s going to be completely oblivious to, again.

“It’s true. Sometimes, it’s like that. It’s like when you write. You spend so much time with your work, you have to let it go for a bit and do something else. So when you get back to it, you see it for what it is and you can understand it better and work on it again.”

It’s absolutely not what you meant. He got it all wrong, his stupid ass really can’t get signals. You want to throw a pillow at him, because he fucking deserves it. You sighed as you tried to compose yourself and not throw that pillow.

“Yeah… It’s like that…”

He takes another sip of his wine. “What about you? I don’t have any updates on your love life lately? Where’s my little Milkie-Casanova?”

She’s dying over here, thirsting for you but you don’t see it because you’re a boy and boys are stupid. Or you’re pretending like you don’t see it because you don’t want to hurt her feelings. Either way, she’s dying.

“She’s chilling. Not really interested in relationships lately. Kinda have somebody in mind… But it seems, it’s a one-way thing.”

He looked at you with a compassionate smile. “Well… Did you tell them about it?”

“Yes. I tried a hundred times. But you, you, you, are too fucking dumb!” You screamed internally. You grinned before scratching your head.

“No… Not really. I tried but… It didn’t really work.”

“You should tell them, Milkie. You’ll never know if you never try.”

You felt your blood boiling inside of your veins. You waited for him to delicately place his glass on the ground and hit him with the pillow.

“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” You were muttering under your breath while hitting Harry softly with the pillow. Of course for him it was just a little game you picked randomly and way too spontaneously. But for you, it was bearing all your frustration.

Harry was trying to stop you in between laughs. “Hey! Milkie! Ouch! You…!”

He grabbed the pillow and pulled it so hard out of your hands that you fell on top of him. Your chest was resting against his. He softly wrapped his arms around you to make sure you wouldn’t slip away from your spot. You raised your head to look at him.

“What are you doing Bambi?”

“I’m playing your game.”

“What game?”

“The ‘who’s gonna be the most annoying’ game.”

He laughed in your face. He reached out one arm to pull a pillow and place it beneath his head while his other arm was secured around your waist. You rested your elbows on his chest and placed your face between your hands, and whispered, “You won.”

He smiled at you, his dimples popping out, he did his tongue thing, where he licks the corner of his mouth while he grins. And you felt a wave of heat running over your body.

“Did I?”

Only a nervous laugh fell from your lips. You were so close to him. He was single now. And this entire setting was the most romantic shit ever. Good moment to tell him how you feel.

Your hair fell in your face but your hands were busy cupping your cheeks so you didn’t try to pull it back.  You felt Harry’s hands slither on your sides to finally reach your face and stroke your hair away, plucking them behind your ears, caressing your head and then your shoulders; just to go back exactly where they were on your waist.

“I think you did.”

You looked away for a second. His gaze was so intense, you couldn’t look him in the eyes. “You always win, Harry.”

You heard him chuckle but you still didn’t look at his face. You raised your legs up and crossed them in the air. You felt one of Harry’s hands go from your waist to your face, touching your cheek softly. He gently grabbed your chin to make you look at him and whispered, “Why won’t you look at me?”

“I don’t want to…” You let a giggle escape from your lips, trying hard to avoid his gaze.

“Why?” He squealed in a laugh. “I thought you found me pretty!”

You rolled your eyes at him before smiling in a stupid way. A way that said “Yes I think you’re pretty. I think about kissing you. Every. Damn. Day.”

“You’re pretty, Bambi. The fairest of them all.”

He squished your face with his hand. “Just like you, Milkie.”

You tried to smile between his fingers and when he let go of your face, he just booped your nose. A little silence installed between the two of you as you took comfort in staying on top of him. You looked in the distance for a moment. Bathing in the strangely affectionate atmosphere, remembering the conversation you left before you started hitting him with the pillow.

“So… You think I should… Tell the person I like them?”

He looked at you intently. “Yes. Definitely. Gotta be bloody dumb to not like you back.”

You raise your eyebrows at him in a smug expression. “You think? Some people are dumb, you know.”

“You wouldn’t like someone who’s dumb.” He smiled at you in a complacent way. He was right, you wouldn’t like someone who’s dumb but he was still the dumbest of them all for not noticing he was the one you liked.

“You wouldn’t know.”

He raised his head a little bit, and gave you that face he makes when you hurt his ego a little bit. “I’m sure I could guess easily.”

“Guess what?”

He poked your cheek with his finger. “Who you like.”

You burst into laughter. He definitely could not. And it’s not like you haven’t tried to make him guess, already.

“What? You think I can’t? I know you well, Milkie!”

You laughed again, wiping a tear at the corner of your eyes in a dramatic gesture. “No you can’t.”

He gasped like a drama queen before a pout formed at the corner of his lips. “Try me.”

You sighed, “Fine. You have three guesses.”

“Can I have a clue?” His hands were playing on your back, pulling on the fabric of your t-shirt.

You looked at him and faked a deep reflection before letting out your clue. “The someone I like is a ‘he’.”

He furrowed in eyebrows in concentration and stared at you as if he was trying telekinesis. “I think…. I think….”

You cut him off with a chuckle. “You think?”

“I think…” He wrapped his arms around you and rolled you over so that he was on top of you. His face was inches away from yours and his body was slightly resting on yours as his elbow held him up. He ran his hand on your face, taking your hair out of your eyes.

“I think it’s a guy called Harry. Might be wrong.”

You felt your heart beat so fast inside of your chest it might have jumped out of it as well. You tried biting your tongue to wake you up from your daydream because there was no way he was really saying this. You bit hard and closed your eyes a second.

When you opened them, Harry was still on top of you, a smirk plastered on his face and his hand stroking your cheek.

“Am I wrong, Y/N?”

“N-.. Yes. Wrong, all wrong. I don’t know where you got this information from. It’s fake news.”

He chuckled a little bit and brought his face even closer to yours. “Really?”

You nodded slightly and blinked twice to be sure you were not dreaming. “I call him Bambi. It’s fake news.”

Harry giggled a little bit. You didn’t know if you wanted to break everything down now or if you just wanted him to kiss you.

“I like you too.”

You laughed nervously. He likes you too? Thanks! That’s definitely not what you were asking for!

“You like me like… your friend? Because when I say I like you. I mean like… I want you to kiss me… and do other shit with me. I won’t be explicit. I don’t know. I feel inappropriate right now.”

He snickered at your comment and his gaze traced your face. “I like you like I want to kiss you.”

He brought his face so close to yours that now, your lips were barely touching. He whispered against your lips, “I also want to do other shit with you, too.”

You could feel his giggle vibrate on your skin and now you were literally melting. You waited for this for ages. You’ve been yearning for this, longing for this, pining for this. And now he was so close.

You raised your head up to him and kissed the corner of his lips. You just couldn’t let the moment slip away. He looked at you passionately before grabbing your jaw and pulling your lips to his. Your noses brushed against each other, his hands were resting on your cheeks until they slid to your jaw and grabbed it. Your lips were still tied, he let his hand wrap around your throat tight enough that you let out a little moan. And he separated his lips from yours for an instant to let you breath.

You looked at him for a second; his eyes glistening and his lips softly swollen, pink, and wet. You just wanted to kiss him again. You grabbed his face tenderly and connected your lips again, slightly opening them so your tongues could dance together a romantic ballet to the sound of your muffled breaths.

When you finally broke from the kiss, he just looked at you all dazed. Your hand was running through his hair and his was resting on your cheek.

“I love…”

The room suddenly lit up in a bright light, cutting him off in his track. He looked around seeing the apartment in a clear light. The candles and cushions and plaids and most importantly; you underneath him. You were craving to hear him finish his sentence. What do you love Bambi? Who do you love Bambi? You just wanted to know.

He smiled at you tenderly before placing a small kiss on your lips and he got up and walked towards the door, you were so confused and you could feel a gulp forming in your throat as if you were about to cry.

He turned the lights off and came back to you, placing himself exactly where he was, caressing your face with his fingertips.

“Love you Milkie.”

You reached for his face again to kiss him, and his voice stopped you. “Like my best friend.” He winked at you before laughing.

You shook your head at him. “You’re awful Bambi!”

He grabbed your face and kissed you tenderly again, muttering against your lips, “I know.”

You looked at him for a second, a stunned look in your eyes. “I love you too.”

His lips pressed against yours in a gentle move as you felt his hands roam through your hair. It turned out that being trapped in your apartment with him was eventually the best way. You definitely didn’t want to escape.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles drabbles #harry styles au #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry talks #harry thoughts #harry styles fiction #harry styles writings #writings #fanfic #fanfiction #pivot #dance #lucky #escape

[likeshipsonthesea]

63 and 86 for nurseydex?

from the mix-and-match au prompts, 63. Everybody Knows/Mistaken For Couple and 86. I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On

mm spicy someone’s trying to get my post banned from the tag listings on tumblr

here we go: the scene would start with a bracing line, probably something like;

“Why don’t you just fuck him already?”

who says this line? i was thinking chowder, but it’s probably ford or maybe even Louis for some Spice

he says it to nursey, who Did Not Ask For This and was just quietly sipping some box wine (he has expensive taste but the wine is better than the beer ollie and wicks bought) leaning against the wall of the haus living room, watching the dance floor bc he’s tired from morning skate (he was late, got into a fun debate with dex about the minimum wage, so bitty made them run suicides. nursey isn’t bitter–they are very close to playoffs and have a very good chance to win, and they can’t afford to slack off)

but even though dex had to skate the same suicides (with an extra lap for “that sassy look you gave me, William”) he’s still out on the dance floor with farmer (the only person who can get dex to dance) just, fucking, looking like That

(That is the fact that dex is wearing the too-tight old t-shirt he’s had since high school that advertises some kind of county fair that was themed around crustaceans, so his arms are BULGING the hem keeps lifting up and showing off the freckles on his lower back, and it’s so hot in the haus with all the people and the rising temp outside that dex is wearing the only shorts he had on-hand without digging around in his summer stuff–basketball shorts he wear for workouts, that cling to his ASSets and shift with each movement, dragging them higher and higher up his thighs)

so, like, obviously nursey does want to fuck dex in this moment but ford-and-or-louis (let’s go with louis, it’s fun) isn’t supposed to know that so nursey splutters his red boxed wine like “whatever do you mean? me fuck dex what is this ridiculousness??? me?? fuck? dex???? you trippin’ bro”

louis blinks. if it were ford she would Not Be Amused but Louis, little baby waffle louis who doesn’t understand why his mentor nursey never wants to be around him, is just, like, so confused.

“So you two are dating but not fucking?” Louis is so dumb my sweet little chaotic swede, so stupid, i love him (and guess what he goes on to be a fucking doctor, so chew on that (veterinarian but whatever)(also was not planning on flushing out louis’ character so much in this but here we are)

this is when Nursey chokes on his red wine.

“Dating?!?!!!?”

see, louis, along with a majority of the waffle class and a few of the taddies, are under the impression that nursey and dex are a passionate (at times explosive) couple that got together sometime after dex left their room.

what is the assumption? well, it depends on who you ask. hops thinks that it took them losing each other to see how much they really care and that one night nursey went down with dex to the basement and they had a long conversation about what they are to each other and how they can navigate their differences so they can be together and happy. hops is taking a class focusing on the great loves of romantic literature, so he might have went  a lil crazy

bully thinks that dex exploded one day and got too honest and it forced him to actually explain how he was feeling and then nursey explained how he was feeling and then they kissed and have since been going on tentative dates around campus (like, if bully cared, he means. he’s just, like, seen them around a lot and, like, they were talking and smiling and nursey was gesturing with his hands a lot and dex looked, like, super chill with it, so like. yeah.)

louis? louis thought that they probably started hate-fucking and feelings happened and yeah, maybe he thinks a bit too much about his teammates’ relationship but whatever. he’s confident in his sexuality and being as a person. it totally has no affect on all the grind-worthy music he plays at kegster, he’s not subtly wheeling from the background, he’s not the reason why they’re in this situation at all, stop interrogating him he’s just an innocent baby swede!!!

“oh.” nursey blinks. “that’s um. okay. um. that’s– well.”

nursey, the sweetie, is a bit broken. because look the waffles aren’t necessarily wrong. he and dex have gotten a lot–better, for a lack of another word. the move out was really dramatic, and after a month of distance nursey could see that he did a lot of bs along with dex’s stuff, and they talked it out

(dex actually brought it up, which nursey thinks was really, like, chill of him. dex explained that he’d been feeling a lot of anxiety about it, which seg-wayed into nursey talking about his anxiety that was exacerbated by sharing a room with someone, and dex didn’t explicitly say it but mentioned that things with his family have been a bit tense since jack and bitty came out and everything, and they both resolved that this was probably the worst time for either of them to move in together, but they were getting better before all of this, so maybe living apart isn’t the end to their friendship but the beginning and like, nursey was really excited about that)

but the friendship–the sitting together on roadies and playing weird games of i-spy, and the late night study sessions at the library bc their respective jitteryness and silent panicking counteract each other, and all of their kind-spirited debates (backed up by research and articles and personal explanations, both of them open minded about it, listening) it’s all been really really good.

and yes, nursey has thought dex was a certified snacc for years now, and he’s p sure that dex thinks he’s hot too but they’re just getting good at the friend thing and nursey doesn’t want to ruin it by pushing it too hard

all this he explains, stuttering and paraphrasing, too a quickly disillusioned Louis, who stares down at nursey with these giant sad eyes, so nursey sends him away quickly after and resumes his post against the wall, sullenly drinking his wine.

but here’s the thing–now that the thought has arrived, nursey can’t stop thinking about what it would be like if he went over to dex and did something about it. if he put his hands to the intermittently revealed waist, if he leaned down to put his mouth against the slightly stubbly spot on dex’s chin, if he let himself hold on tight and move in close and ask dex, “you wanna come upstairs with me?”

Nursey, per his character, spends the next half hour stressing and debating over what he should do, and in this time dex tires and leaves the dance floor. he approaches nursey with an oblivious smile and a sweating (like dex) bottle of water.

“hey,” he says. “what’s up?”

“we should fuck.”

it is dex’s turn to choke.

“what”

“fuck, sorry, i didn’t–fuck. come here.” and nursey grabs dex’s wrist and pulls him up the stairs and they enter The Room and close the door behind them.

and nursey explains what just happened with louis and the realization and the fact that all the waffles think they’re dating, and dex gets steadily redder (not from the dancing) and then when nursey finishes explaining (because they Talk now, they Communicate, and nursey is Very Good at rambling) dex takes a few moments to compute.

“so me… dancing… turned you on?”

nursey nods, reluctantly yet also emphatically. it hurts his head.

“i didn’t mean to do that.” dex sounds like he’s apologizing. nursey may love him. fuck this is going SO FAST.

“it’s okay,” nursey says, and is about to go on another ramble about how dex doesn’t have to reciprocate anything, he just wanted to explain where he’s coming from, because the Communicate now and he wants to be a good friend and–

and dex stops him. “we can.” nursey squints, confused, and dex coughs, pinking up again. “fuck, i mean.” nursey’s eyes widen. “i mean, not tonight!” dex hurries to clarify, shaking his head and water bottle frantically (which, unfortunately, spills water all over his hand) “i just– i think we can try. we’re– better, now.”

nursey is, justifiably, speechless, and attempting to wrap his head around the fact that he lives in a world where William Poindexter, asshole and kind hearted and total fucking wonder, wants to fuck him (and, like, romance shit, but the Fucking)

“i think,” dex says, and he’s wearing the expression he always wears before he responds to one of nursey’s better points with his own, well-crafted and thoughtful opinions, “that we should wait until after the playoffs. so we don’t affect anything on the team. but after.” dex smiles, small but full. “after.”

nursey returns the smile. an after sounds pretty good.

there are more kegsters between that night and when they become NCAA champions standing right behind bitty’s ot goal winner (it’s my fic i can make it as Dramatique™ as I want) and dex dances at a lot of those too, but when nursey watches him dance, either from across the room or standing next to him, he watches with the knowledge that someday–someday soon– they won’t go home to their separate rooms at the end of the song.

(unseen: the scene where louis explains to the other waffles that no nurse and poindexter aren’t actually dating. hops is heartbroken, bully doesn’t care (really, he doesn’t, he’s just up thinking about it because, like, circadian rhythm or whatever) and louis ruins the whole thing by asking, “so do you think it’s gay to thinking about your teammates fucking?” which promptly makes hops and bully walk away)

#nurseydex #dexnursey #check please #nursey #derek nurse #dex #william poindexter #my writing #sort of fic #i loved writing this #i'm so excited to fill the other prompts #i can't tag this not safe fw bc of tumblr #but there is some ~referencing in this #so be warned

[baz-n-simon]

Just to be clear it’s a date - part 3

Hello! I am sorry that I've taken (more than) a year to finish this, but I'm here now and hopefully you'll like this third and last chapter. I did, as you might have seen on my tumblr, finish it sometime in February, but I wasn't happy with it, bc I felt that I wrote Simon too eloquent at one point, but last night I decided to publish it anyway bc if not now it might take another year or two before I actually post it. I'm very sorry about that, but I really hope you'll forgive my procrastinating butt for... well... my procrastination.

Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

Also, big thank you to my one and only (and favorite) beta @catsandladyluck aka @carryonsimoncarryon, so muh bless, so much love <3 Thank you for helping me with my silly mistakes <3

Ps! this chapter switches point of view a total of three times, you'll see "~ Baz" when it's from Baz's pov, and "~ Simon" with it's from Simon's pov (duh)

Part 1: tumblr / ao3

Part 2: tumblr / ao3

Part 3: you are here / ao3

Words: 2.8k

~ Baz

I walk to work as usual. Except today I’m feeling extra ready for the weekend to come quick; simply so that I can lounge around at home and text Simon. The gorgeous stranger from the park. My gorgeous stranger. Well, I guess he’s not a stranger anymore. Simon. His name makes my spine shiver with excitement. I really hope we can make that date happen soon. We were planning on going out for dinner last weekend, but I got called into work for an extra shift at the office. Which sucked massively. We tried making plans during the week, but of course, this week we worked different shifts. And now it’s Friday. And we still haven’t rescheduled our date. Maybe he decided that he didn’t want to go on a date with me after all? I could understand that decision, I guess. He asked me out. I said yes. And then I cancelled last minute. I’d probably be sceptic too.

As I walk into work, heading for my office, I exchange a few ’Hello’s’ with some of my coworkers. My office is located almost at the end of the long hallway on the second floor; ‘Mr. T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch’ the plaque on the door reads .

When I open the door to my office, the first thing I notice is a lavish bouquet of red, yellow, orange and pink roses. I close the door behind me before walking closer to my desk. Red roses; love and romance; orange roses: enthusiasm and passion; yellow roses; friendship, joy and good health; and lastly pink roses; love, gratitude and appreciation.

So, I think, maybe he hasn’t changed his mind yet then.

I smile to myself. The bouquet is placed in the middle of my work-desk, and I twist the bouquet around, looking at it. There’s a card attached. I open it and all it says are two short sentences: ‘Usual spot. Saturday evening 7 pm - S’. My smile widens. He hasn’t given up on me yet then, thank Merlin.

I pull out my phone and text him. ‘Thanks for the flowers; can’t wait’.

There’s a knock on my door and I look up. Agatha is curiously staring in from outside my door, and I wave my hand in a gesture to tell her to come inside.

The downside to the doors in this office is the fact that they’re glass doors. Which means it doesn’t stop anyone from looking inside, but at least it somewhat dampens/reduces the sounds of my talkative coworkers throughout the day.

Agatha is looking at me. Studying me, her gaze shifting between me and the grand bouquet, she shuts the door behind her, stepping inside.

“So,” she pauses. “Who’s Mr. Charming?” she smiles slyly. “I saw the delivery guy arriving, and you can imagine my surprise when he walked them to this office! You’re receiving flowers without me knowing anything about someone who might be sending you flowers?” She’s ranting on and on, waiting for me to cut in and tell her all the gossip. I let her rant on for a while more, listening to her not minding her own business, as usual. She’s very sweet and also somewhat annoying at times, but I know it’s only because she cares.

“Listen, Agatha, as much as I’d love to hear you rant on about how big of a disappointment I am for not telling you stuff, I have to stop you. ‘Cause this is nothing yet. However, maybe I’ll have some gossip for you over the weekend,” I smirk, and she grins expectantly at me, clapping her hands together in an excited manner.

“So, where did you meet him?” she was never one for leaving me alone with my thoughts. Always so curious and bubbly.

“The park,” I smile, my eyebrows arching a tad higher on my forehead.

“No! Not the handsome stranger?” She beams.

I shrug and lean on my desk. “Might be.”

“Oh my god, yes!” she exclaims. “Did you finally ask him out?”

“Not exactly; He asked me.” I smile, feeling a faint blush creeping up my neck and cheeks.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you, Bazzy!” She looks as if her head might explode any minute, her hands at her cheeks now, and her brown eyes are gleaming. She opens her arms and fling herself at me, hugging me tightly. I chuckle and hug her back. Even though she can be annoying, she’s mostly a delight, and she’s always got a good advice up her sleeve when you need it the most.

My phone buzzes, and I grab it before she can see the text.

“Ah, is your Mr. Charming missing you already?” she grins, trying to read the text on the phone screen shining brightly between my slender fingers.

I blush and shove it into my back pocket. “Gossip is after the weekend, remember?” I smile slyly at her, letting the word ‘after’ drag.

“Sunday; wine and gossip.” I think it’s supposed to be a question, but it sounds more like a statement. “Unless you’re still in Saturday's suit, I mean.” And with that she leaves, going back to her office a few doors away, leaving me blushing.

~ Saturday

“You look great, Baz,” Simon is blushing, but he seems confident as he’s getting up from the park bench where he was sat waiting for me.

“Thank you. You look very handsome yourself, Simon.” I smile, looking him up and down. He’s wearing a light grey blazer, dark fitted jeans and a white button-up shirt. He’s stunning. I can’t believe we’re actually on a date.

“So, are you ready to go to dinner?” He looks shy, but my smile and slight nod seems to encourage him to speak on. “I didn’t know which restaurant you like, so I booked us tables at an Italian restaurant, an Asian restaurant and at this fancy Steakhouse that Penny suggested. You know, so that you’d have some options, and since I wasn’t sure what you preferred,” his rant is quick, as if he’s stressed, but when he stops talking he smiles, and there’s a glimmer in his blue eyes.

I chuckle at his words. “That’s very thoughtful. I’m really not picky, so if you have any preferences, you just go ahead and choose.”

“I’m no picky eater either, but I booked at these three restaurants so you could choose, so I’m gonna leave the decision up to you.” He grins, obviously pleased with his foolproof plan.

I ponder about my options before deciding. “How about the Steakhouse? I’ve wanted to check it out for a while, I’ve heard great things about their food there from some friends.”

“Great! Sounds like a plan.” He smiles and takes a step closer to me, offering his hand. I hook my arm onto his, and we start walking.

~ Simon

He hooks his arm onto mine and we walk alongside each other. We talk about the places we walk past and make up stories about the people we see along the way.

“Her name is Barbara, and her pomeranian dog is also her best friend and lover,” Baz says, nodding in a way that makes it seem like he knows all about what’s up in Barbara’s life.

I chuckle at his story before pointing at a man sitting by the table at an outside bar across the street. “And that’s Bob. He’s secretly in love with his best friends wife, but no one knows.” I whisper the last part as an excuse to lean closer to Baz.

He laughs. “You know what? There is actually a possibility that might be true.”

I laugh at Baz’s comment, slightly shaking my head while grinning.

We get our seats quickly when we get to the Steakhouse, and the waitress hands us a couple of menus before taking our drink orders.

“A glass of red wine for me, please.” He smiles when the waiter looks at him for his order.

Baz looks stunning in his black slim fitted jeans, an emerald green blazer and a white button-up shirt.

“You know what, just bring the bottle and two glasses, please.” I smile at the waiter who nods and smiles.

“I’ll be back soon to take your dinner orders, but first, is there any special bottle of red wine you’d like?” She smiles and clicks her pen a couple of times, flipping her notepad.

Baz shakes his head when I look at him.

“Whatever he decides,” I smile with the slightest hint of a challenge in my tone.

Baz looks at the drink menu and points at the wine chart. “This one, then. The Cabernet Sauvignon.”

“Good choice, Sir. I’ll be right back with your wine,” she says as she quickly scribbles it down on her small notepad.

“Good choice, Sir,” I say teasingly, a grin plastered on my face as I lean across the table with a not so quiet whisper.

He makes a short snorting sound as he laughs. “It was the only one I knew.” He confessed with the slightest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. The rest, I’m guessing, were all too fancy.”

I lean a bit closer to the middle of the table again, and he bites his lower lip and raises one eyebrow in a way that made it seem like he was waiting for a good comeback. “Me too,” I admit, still with a not so quiet whisper.

He laughs. And when he laughs he tilts his head back in a beautiful manner. By Merlin’s beard. He’s so beautiful and handsome and elegant. Whatever it is he does, he always looks stunning. I feel my head spin as I remember that he actually said yes to a date with me. My head spins even more at the thought that this is an actual date. I feel so lucky!

The waitress comes back with two glasses and the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, filling the glasses before taking our orders and leaving again.

Dinner goes by fast. Both our steaks, the bottle of wine and the shared brownie are gone way too fast for any one of us to be ready for the night to end.

I pay the check, leaving a good tip to the sweet and very helpful waitress. I thank her for the great service before heading out, Baz clutching onto my left arm.

“That was very sweet of you.” Baz’s smiling lips seem intoxicating as he leans closer to me when we get outside.

“What was?” I smile at him, then stare at his lips longingly.

“The way you treated her. It was so nice... I liked that.”

We walk along the pavement, going nowhere in particular.

“Everyone deserves kindness, and I think everyone should just try to make at least one person smile everyday.” Baz is smiling at me, and I smile back.

“What?” I ask when he keeps staring at me. “Earth to Baz.” I wave my right hand in front of his face to catch his attention when he doesn’t answer me.

He bites his lower lip like he did during dinner and it’s making me so dizzy that I have to stop in my tracks. So does he.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.

I let out a short, surprised laugher. “What?”

“You’re beautiful,” he repeats, taking a step closer to me, even though he’s almost glued to my side already.

I tilt my head up to look into his eyes. I never noticed before but he’s a few centimeters  taller than me.

“You must be drunker than I thought,” I tease, smiling up at him, bumping my shoulder into his side gently.

He tilts his head back to laugh, and from this angle I can easily admire how the side of his eyes crinkle up when he laughs, and how his perfectly white teeth shows when he laughs with his mouth open.

I think, if I lean forward right now, I could kiss his Adam’s apple. I watch how it moves when he laughs, and before I can help myself, I bury my fist in the collar of his button-up shirt and pull him down towards me.

We meet in a heated kiss, and I suddenly feel the cold concrete behind me.

Baz is pushing me up against a wall, I think to myself happily. Baz. I smile into the kiss at the thought of his name, and at the realization that we’re on an actual date.

This might be the best first date I’ve ever been to, and right now, I hope it’s the last first date I go to.

~ Baz

“You’re beautiful,” I whisper.

He lets out a surprised laughter. “What?”

“You’re beautiful,” I repeat. Knowing I’m already as close as I can get, I still take a step closer to him. I’m feeling brave with the wine flowing in my veins. He is beautiful. And he’s so kind and gentle.

“You must be drunker than I thought,” he says with a teasing smile. bumping his shoulder into my side.

I tilt my head back, laughing at his comment. He must be stupid not to realize how amazing he is.

Before I know it he grabs my button-up shirt by the collar and pulls me down towards him, and I meet his lips. It feels as if I need his kiss to survive and I push him back towards a wall closeby. I lean my entire weight onto him. One of my hands finds its way to his hair, the other grabbing at his waist to keep him closer. Soon he’s grabbing at my waist as well, and it feels amazing. Who would have known he’d be such a good kisser?

As we come out for air, he grins at me. “I know a place where we could go stargazing.” It sounds more like a question than a statement, but I nod.

“Show the way,” I grab his hand and intertwine our fingers.

He smiles down at our hands, then leans closer, putting his head on my shoulder. He smiles up at me for a quick moment before straightening up, grabbing my hand harder and sprinting off with me clumsily following behind.

“This way,” he says loudly as he turns a corner.

We turn a few more corners, walk through a small park, and sneak into an old building through the backyard. When we get inside, he hastily pulls me up the stairs.

“This way to the stars,” he says loudly, grinning, slightly out of breath.

“You sound like a poet,” I laugh. “Or Peter Pan.”

“Ha-ha,” he pretend laughs, but then he actually laughs, and I feel my heart race when he looks back at me with flushed cheeks.

When we get to the rooftop, I stop in my tracks. There’s a view of the entire city from here, and it’s beautiful.

“Feels almost like a movie,” I blurt out as I look around.

“I know,” Simon says softly, walking over to the railing at the edge and leaning against it. “I love it up here; everything seems so much smaller from here.”

I walk over and lean on the railing beside him. “You come here often?”

“Whenever I need to think, or when I wanna look at the stars.” He walks over to what looks like a storage closet. He pulls out a few blankets, some pillows for lawn chairs and a telescope.

I lean back against the railing, watching him as he makes something similar to a picnic in the middle of giant space up here on the roof, placing the telescope gently on one of the pillows.

“You have something you need to think about now?” I ask, keeping my voice soft and low.

“You,” he says simply.

I look at him. He’s still fixing the blankets.

“Me?”

“Well, not really, more like I’m thinking about the fact that I’m happy you came along. Honestly I didn’t think  you would, but you did, and I feel like I should have brought some wine, or a few more blankets in case you get cold or something.” He shrugs and smile at me.

“I think we can manage, don’t you?” I grin, walking closer to Simon and reaching for his hand.

“You’re right,” his smile is gentle as he grabs my hand, and I lean closer to kiss his cheek.

“Wanna sit down and look at the stars with me?” He’s blushing, and suddenly he’s looking shy.

I bite my lip with amusement. “I’d love that,” I nod, moving closer.

We sit down, as close as possible. For a very long time we sit there, holding hands, and taking turns looking at the stars through the telescope.

This might have actually been a perfect first date. Who even knew there was such a thing as a perfect first date? One thing I know for sure is that I want many, many more in the future. Hopefully all of them will be with Simon.

#snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #carry on #carry on fanfic #rainbow rowell #agatha wellbelove #Penelope Bunce #just to be clear it's a date

[stealth-spiderr]

red // t.h.

wassup homies, here’s my thing for @fuckyou-imspiderman‘s writing challenge!! this took me ages to start bc i had a block but then i was flooded with an idea last night and here’s this. it’s inspired by youngblood by 5sos, more from the vibes i get listening to it than the actual lyrics but i managed to work some of them in

summary // you and Tom aren’t great at relationships and are always up for meaningless sex but maybe you both have feelings after all. and maybe you don’t know how to handle them properly and things don’t turn out the best.

pairing // tom holland x fem!reader ((bit of a fuckboi//fuckgirl thing))

warnings // swearing, angst, sexual references ((no actual smut tho))

word count // 2.9k

Red was the wine they drank the day they met.

Both you and Tom had no particular reason to be there, simply there to avoid boredom. Besides, everyone should go to a wine tasting at least once right? You’d ended up seated beside each other and spent the whole time snickering at the ridiculous adjectives used to describe the tastes and scents of various wines. The pair of you left together to grab coffee and talk a bit more over something you knew next to nothing about.

“I’m not even a big fan of wine, I just thought it’d be interesting,” you explained to Tom why you’d gone to the tasting in the first place.

“Well ‘interesting’ is one word for it, I s’pose,” Tom chuckled.

You talked for a couple of hours, both of you being overly flirty with each other, trying to lure the other in. When the tension became too much to bare, you got an uber to Tom’s place. His hand gripped your thigh as you kissed along his neck for half the drive, before Tom took your chin in his hand and titled your head away in order to return the favour for the rest of the trip.

Clothes came off as soon as you were inside his place, leaving a trail from the front door to his bed. Two rounds later, you were picking up your clothes and heading out. You’d barely walked five minutes when your phone buzzed with an incoming message from an unknown number.

I hope you enjoyed yourself, we should do this again -Tom

You smiled slightly to yourself as you typed your reply.

We should, keep your phone close 😉

As weeks went by booty calls turned into one of you staying the night, which bled into lazy days. Date nights with take out, the pair of you became the physical embodiment of ‘Netflix and chill’ and after a few months officially called yourselves a couple.

Red was the strawberries they ate when they promised forever.

It was a night-in date, a little picnic on the floor of Tom’s living room, a cheesy rom-com playing on the TV while you ate pizza. After cuddling up a while, Tom got up and ran into the kitchen, returning with a plate of chocolate covered strawberries.

“Because what’s a picnic without chocolate covered strawberries?” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “Did you steal that from High School Musical?”

“Maybe.”

You laughed fondly before tucking into the sweet treats.

“I love these so much,” you said.

“And I love you,” Tom replied.

You smiled at each other and Tom leaned in and captured your lips with his own. It held the magic of a first kiss. The first kiss that’s shown in movies and you just know that the characters are meant to be, you could just imagine the fireworks going off.

“I’ll love you until the day you die, baby,” you mumbled into his lips.

“That could be tomorrow, you know.”

“Okay, until I die.”

“Could also possibly happen tomorrow.”

“Forever, then. I’ll love you forever.”

A grin broke out on Tom’s face and he picked up another strawberry, took a small bite before holding the fruit just in front of your mouth. You took the final bite while looking into his eyes, and he looked back with lustful intensity. He flicked the leaves away before he closed the gap between you once again, his tongue swiping away strawberry juice that was still on your lips.

Red was the blood that dripped from his knuckles.

Your relationship had become bitter-sweet. Tom loved you, or at least he thought he did. You loved Tom, or at least he thought you did. From day one everyone around him said you were both playing a dangerous game, because you were both the same. Before you both started hooking up regularly, you both were no strangers to one night stands, meaningless sex was your endgame every time either of you went out.

But old habits die hard. Tom kept noticing you taking too long to get drinks in a bar, he’d catch you flirting with hot guys hoping they’d buy you drinks. You’d catch him with his hands on a girls hips as she grinded her ass into his crotch. Maybe, subconsciously, it turned into a game of trying to one-up the other every time you went out, and yet you’d always leave together, making out in the back of an uber, usually to Tom’s but sometimes your place.

But one night things escalated too far when you did body shots with someone else whilst Tom was getting felt up by someone else. You made eye contact and his eyes darkened as he pushed the woman’s hands off his body. He stormed out of the bar, something he had never done, so you raced after him.

“You can’t just do that!” he exclaimed after you’d asked what was wrong.

“As if you can talk, letting some random bitch rub her hands all over you,” you scoff.

“That’s a hell of a lot different than having your tongue all over some wanker’s six pack! What? I can’t even kill some time with someone who actually wants to be with me?” he retorted.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“We’re supposed to be out together, why the fuck would you go off someone else and do body shots of all things?”

“It’s just my fault! You go off on your own two, what am I supposed to do then? We’re supposed to love each other, right? What happened to that?”

Tom opened his mouth to spit back an answer but stopped. What had happened? The way you both behaved hadn’t really changed, while your drunk flirting had increased to annoy each other, the only big difference was that neither of you were sleeping around. When he thinks about love, Tom believes that you become your best self when you’re with the person you love and who loves you. He looked at you, where there should have been betrayal in your features there wasn’t any, just frustration. You weren’t your best self with him, that was clear. He thought back to everything that happened on your nights out, he wasn’t his best self with you either.

“I don’t think you care,” Tom said, voice lowered and thick with oncoming tears.

He wanted to love you, when sex wasn’t involved you were amazing and fun to be around. But it wasn’t often when sex wasn’t involved in one way or another.

“Excuse me?” you scoffed.

“Tell me that if I pissed off right now, you wouldn’t walk back in there and take someone else back to your place.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “You’re being an idiot, Tom.”

Tom. You hadn’t called him Tom in a long time, it was always ‘baby’. He smiled but there was no happiness behind it, you’d told him without saying the words but he needed to hear them. He stepped forward and cupped your face.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth.”

You shrug slightly. “You don’t wanna hear it.”

“Just fucking tell me.”

“If you left right now, I’d go back in there and I’d find someone to help me forget you.”

It didn’t hurt him like he thought it would but he still felt shattered, although he didn’t show it. It almost scared you how calm he stayed one you’d spoken. He let go of your face and pressed an open mouthed kiss on your cheek, you could feel the anger from it seep into your skin.

“Fuck you, too,” he growled into your ear before walking past you, roughly bumping your shoulder.

You turned sharply to glare at his retreating back. “You weren’t that good a fuck anyway!”

He turns around, a smirk plastered on his face. “Oh, darling, I have plenty of memories that say otherwise, you can’t have faked it that many times. I hope you think of me when you fuck someone else, hell, when you fuck yourself I hope you imagine my fingers instead of your own. I hope every single person that makes you cum gets to hear you moan my name when you do.”

“Fuck you.”

“You won’t ever again.”

You both glared at each other for a minute before you stormed back into the bar. Tom let out a deep sigh before walking to the wall and throwing his fist at it until his knuckles were raw and scratched.

Red was her lipstick the first time her saw her again.

“Tom, there’s a perfectly good bar about ten minutes from your house, why are we going all the way into the city? It’s just gonna be more expensive,” Harrison whined, despite the fact they’d already made the longer journey without a complaint from him.

“Well, I’m not gonna run in into her here, am I?” Tom replied.

“And you’re trying to say you didn’t love her.”

“Maybe I loved her but I wasn’t in love with her, I don’t know. Still fucked me up, if I can avoid seeing her then I will.”

Harrison rolled his eyes but kept quiet, having said ‘I told you so’ already so there was no sense in pissing him off. The two entered a bar that was bustling with people but not overly crowded, Haz had caught sight of the pretty bartender so he clapped his hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“I’ll grab the first round, just want a beer, mate?” he asked.

“Yeah, thanks,” Tom answered.

He watched Haz begin to flirt with bartender for a few seconds before he headed to the other side of the room, picking a table in the corner. He pulled his phone out, trying to look busy whilst sitting alone. It was a full seven minutes before Harrison finally showed up with two beers and sat opposite Tom at the table. He rambled about how he’d got her to laugh with an intentionally shitty pick-up line and she’d actually flirted back a little. Harrison went to get drinks every time, alternating between taking money from Tom and using his own, he’d take ten minutes at least. It wasn’t busy which allowed him to actually chat with the bartender, and they hadn’t even been there for two hours before Tom was sick of it. He’d been sitting alone at the table for half the time, and the place had emptied a little, the bar wasn’t lively enough for Tom. He was itching to let loose and this just wasn’t the place for it so he walked up to Harrison at the bar.

“H, I’m gonna hit up or club or something for a bit. Meet you later?” he interrupted.

Harrison eyed him wearily, he looked sober enough but given how he’d been before you and this being his first time out after you, Harrison knew Tom had nothing to lose. And that was dangerous.

“Nah, I’ll come with, it’s fine.”

Harrison turned back to the bartender to say goodbye, she gave him a napkin with her number written on it, and then he followed Tom out onto the street. They walked a few blocks in silence until they found a place that looked okay. Harrison double checked if Tom was fine, he assured him he was and they entered the club.

It felt like the whole room was shaking with the bass of the music and Tom made a beeline for the bar.

“Shots?” he asked Haz.

“Just one, I think, mate.”

Tom put on an exaggerated frown before ordering three tequila shots and two bourbon and cokes. Once all the drinks were ready, he slid one of the shots towards Haz and clinked another against it.

“Cheers,” he mumbled before downing both his shots back to back, and quickly taking a swig of the bourbon and coke. “I’m gonna go dance or something.”

He claps Harrison’s shoulder and walks off to the crowd of sweaty bodies. He dances his way through multiple people, returning to the bar whenever he found his cup empty. He’d been avoiding Harrison, who would have stopped him from getting more drinks by this point, his head was fuzzy and he felt like he was stuck in a dream. He had no clue what the time was but he realised he hadn’t been to the bathroom all night. He rushed off, without a word to the woman who’d been all over him, to the bathrooms.

He almost fell into the door as he shoved it open and didn’t waste a second undoing his jeans as he slid to a stop at a urinal. It felt like the longest piss of his life. He washed his hands and quickly splashed his face with cold water before heading back out. He collided with another guy as he left before he froze in place just away from the door.

There you were. In all your smokey-eyed, cherry red lipsticked glory.

You looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see you. Both of you were staring at each other, slack jawed and unsure of what to do. Once you had time to calm down the night you broke up, you’d regretted your parting words somewhat. It had barely been two weeks but you’d found yourself missing him, but it wasn’t like you could text him, not after what you said or what he said. He’d been right, of course. You’d gone home with the first guy that gave you a second of attention once you went back inside. You didn’t remember his name, or if you even learned it, because you sure as hell weren’t moaning it when he pounded into you. You weren’t moaning anything, because Tom was more than right. You were thinking of him, not the guy kissing your neck and collarbones, so much that you couldn’t even get in the mood enough for one fuck with someone that wasn’t him.

You took a step forward, trying to work your mouth enough to speak but Tom snapped his mouth shut, cast his eyes behind you and walked straight passed without a word.

Red was what he saw when she rocked up to his place unannounced.

“Just a second!” Tom called out, as the knocking persisted.

It was late, he’d been in the bathroom, cleaning up after a shower when he faintly heard the knocking over the music he had playing. He jogged to the door, yanking it open whilst running his hand through his damp hair, which dropped to his side in anger when he saw you.

“Fuck do you want?”

“To talk, maybe? If that’s alright?”

“Fine.”

You went to step inside but Tom made no move to let you pass, instead crossing his arms over his chest.

“I mean, I’d rather not do this in the doorway,” you said quietly.

“That’s too bad. You have ten seconds to start talking or I’m shutting the door on you.”

“Listen, I keep thinking about you. I get drunk to forget but it doesn’t work and I call you, and I call and call and call but you never fucking answer. I know I hurt you and what I did was shitty and you didn’t deserve it, you really didn’t and I’m sorry for putting you through it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are. Who’re you calling baby these days, huh?”

“Nobody, Tom.”

“Right, ‘cause no one could take my place, is that what you’re telling me?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Oh, my fucking god, you have to be joking. How many people have you slept with since we broke up? Where was this effort when we were actually something?”

“Just give me a chance to be better, please.”

Your voice was pleading, you wanted him back in any way he would give himself to you. Your heart leaped when he sighed and moved to the side to let you in. You hurried past him in case he changed his mind but loitered awkwardly behind him as he shut the door.

Tom didn’t know exactly what he wanted, maybe it was you, maybe he was just sexually frustrated. But hearing you almost begging for him to take you back made something stir in him. He walked up to you without stopping until he’d backed you into a wall, your chest rising and falling rapidly, his mouth barely an inch from yours.

“Say you want me,” he said quietly but strongly.

You gulped, unable to take your eyes off his. “I want you,” you whispered, your hands finding his waist.

He quickly grabbed them and pinned them to the wall by your sides.

“Say you want me back in your life.”

“I want you back in my life.”

He kept the gap between your faces but ground his hips onto yours, causing you to let out a quiet moan.

“Say you need it.” he commanded, grinding his hips harder.

“I need it, baby, please.”

He smirked and leaned in slightly so your lips were brushing.

“Such a good girl begging for me. What do you want, love?”

“You. You touching me, fucking me, anything.”

“Keep going.”

He started trailing kisses down your neck, stopping every couple of inches to suck and bite your skin.

“I want you to leave bruises from gripping my hips so tight. I want you to hear me moan your name. I want to decorate your collarbones with hickies. I need you to make me yours.”

“Then mine you shall be,” Tom growled, smashing his lips to yours.

Red was the scratches she left on his back.

let me know if you do or don’t wanna be tagged!! taglist // @tomsfireheart // @tomhoellandb // @laucontrerasv // @spidey-pal // @paper-goonie // @hottrashformarvel // @biuchima // @webfluihd // @starksparker // @h-osterfield // @upsidedownparker // @sergeantbxrnxs // @spideymood // @thewiseandfree // @stephie-senpai // @bi-writes// @peters-vlogs // @noneighborhood // @caloe-vera // @starlightfound // @lafayettes-baguettes-1 // @lemirabitur// @lilleone // @yoinksholland​ // @ablogbypeteparker​ // @iaiabear​ // @rainbow-marvel​ // @rumoured-whispers​ // @bookishpeter​ // @elentiya02​ 

tom taglist // @assumeimapenguin​ // @idontlooklikereginageorge​

#tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #fuckboi!tom #fuckboi!au #em writes #ambahrs 2.5k challenge

[kleinmemes]

More Than A Friend (Jared Kleinman x Fem!Reader)

ok this is my first fic ever yall……… bear with me……….. wrote it right after i watched the DEH bootleg for the first time bc i was in a Jared Mood™ lmao 

ok lets do this

Summary: After Evan snapped at him, Jared is left wondering if he was right about what he said - did he really have any friends? He was sure Evan hated him right now, but the thought of (Y/N), who he knew since he was a child, hating him too hurt more than he was willing to admit. That night, in the (Y/L/N)-Kleinman family dinner, he would find out that, for the girl, he really wasn’t a friend - but more than that. 

Warnings: Bad writing?? No proof-reading at all?? OOC Jared?? Also swearing.

Words: 1829 (it was supposed to be a short fic, holy shit)

This was the last straw for him. How could Evan do that? Just straight up say that he had no friends other than him to talk to? God, he was so full of it. Jared had many friends. He had… well… (Y/N)? She was his friend… or maybe not. What if she just hung with him because of her family?

The thought hurt him more than expected. What if (Y/N) just wasn’t really his friend? He always assumed they were best pals, but what if she only saw him as the annoying family friend who she is obligated to hang out with just because of her parents? He squeezed his eyes shut. No, it couldn’t be. (Y/N) was a very direct and sincere person, if she hated him she’d say so. But the doubt still lingered in the back of Jared’s head. He couldn’t bear to think that she couldn’t stand him, in reality. The mere thought - or, more accurately, the self-assured fact - that she didn’t return his feelings already hurt him enough, just imagining that not even their friendship was a real thing was… too much. He harshly opened the front door of the Kleinman household.

“Jared, honey!” His mom immediately shouted, poking her head from the kitchen. “You’re early today! Weren’t you staying at Evan’s to do some schoolwork?”

“Yeah, not anymore.” He answered, balling his fists.

“What happened, baby?” Mrs. Kleinman worriedly asked, cleaning her hands on her apron.

“Nothing, mom.” He answered quickly, running for the stairs. “I’m going up to my room, please don’t bother me.”

“Alright, Jared…” his mom answered, with a sad tone to her voice, sensing there was something wrong with the boy. “Just don’t forget today we have family dinner with the (Y/L/N)s!”

“How could I…” he muttered o himself.

Jared entered his room and shut the door behind him. Taking a deep breath and trying to sort out his feelings, he headed towards the bed, throwing himself on it and burying his head in the pillows. Then came the tears. It wasn’t something conscious, that he decided to do in order to better deal with his feelings. The tears just came. Evan was right. Not about him only talking to the kind boy because he had no other friends, no - even though he insisted that Evan was “just a family friend”, his platonic feelings towards him were sincere. Jared always had a hard time with opening up about what he felt - when younger, he was always teased by his male classmates for being too emotional, which ended up in him masking whatever he felt, lying about the true intensity of his feelings to avoid mockery. No, what hit him hard in Evan’s words was the detail: “you have no other friends”. Besides Evan and (Y/N), did he really have any friends? He did talk to Alana sometimes. And Mike from Physics.

“God, I’m so pathetic.” he thought.

Evan was right. Besides the two family friends, he had no one. He was absolutely alone. And now, after this whole fiasco, he didn’t even know if his only two friends were really his friends.

He squeezed his eyes shut yet again, feeling the hot tears spilling all over his face.

———

(Y/N) waited on the porch of the Kleinman household alongside her parents. Family dinner nights were probably the worst thing in the world — or they would be, if it wasn’t for Jared. The thought of the dorky boy made her crack a small smile. God, she truly was developing feelings for him, wasn’t she? Turns out all the “we are going to get married someday!” jokes were not really jokes for the girl anymore. A light blush spread over her cheeks with the thought of getting married to Jared. “Gosh, a bit straightforward, no?” she thought to herself. “It’s not like he even feels the same about you. (Y/N) Kleinman does have a certain appeal to it, though…”

“Oh, welcome, friends!” The front door opened itself suddenly, revealing Mr. Kleinman and shaking (Y/N) out of her thoughts. She didn’t even hear her parents ring the doorbell.

“Come in, come in!” Mrs. Kleinman said, emerging out of the kitchen with a tray of appetizers on hand. “I got us some little snacks to get started!”

“Good, we’ve brought the wine!” her father proudly announced.

“Well, honey, it’s adult drinking time now.” Her mother winked. “Why don’t you go find Jared?”

“Oh, that would be great!” Mrs. Kleinman beamed. “He seemed kind of out of it today. Maybe you could try talking to him, (Y/N/N)? You know how he’s fond of you.”

(Y/N) blushes lightly at these words. “Alright, I’ll try…” she muttered.

“Good, he’s in his room upstairs.” Mr. Kleinman announced.

The girl ran up the stairs with practiced ease, her hair flowing behind her. Standing in front of Jared’s room, she knocked on the door lightly.

“Mom, I thought I told you to leave me alone.” she heard him weakly say, from the other side of the door. Was he… crying?

“It’s (Y/N).” She said, sweetly. “Can I come in?”

Silence. Then, after some time she heard a small, weak “No.”

“Well, fuck off, I’m going in anyway.” She announced, slightly irritated. He never tried to keep her away from him before.

“(Y/N), I swear to God—“ he stopped mid sentence as she swung the door open, sending the wheeled chair he was using to block it across the room. “… Screw the no keys rule.”

The girl smiled slightly.

“C’mon, Jared. You know we can’t take the risk of you locking yourself up in your room and jerking off all day.” She joked.

“I wish I was just jerking off right now.” He said, voice muffled by the pillows he just buried his head in.

(Y/N) closed the door softly, proceeding to sit next to him on bed.

“Your mom said you were out of it today.” She said, stroking the boy’s hair. “What’s up?”

A moment of silence. She continued to run her nimble fingers through her friend’s hair.

“(Y/N), be frank with me” Jared finally said.

“How can I be Frank if I am (Y/N)?” She joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“First of all — fuck off. Second of all, this is serious.” Her smile dropped as he lifted his face off the pillows. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying, his face stained with the salty trail of the tears he shed. “Do you consider me your friend?”

Despite herself, she laughed at the question.

“What kind of worry is that, you nerd?” She giggled.

Jared’s eyes became glassy with newly formed tears.

“I knew it. You find me pathetic.” He whimpered.

“Of course not—“ Her words were interrupted by those coming like a wave from the boy besides her, who now faced her directly, tears streaming freely down his face.

“I’m just… Jared Kleinman. The family friend. The annoying. The huge pain in the ass you’re stuck with. Evan was right, I don’t have any friends. I’m a huge dick to everyone because I can’t manage to put my real feelings out there, I try too hard to be funny, I’m just a huge ass nerd full of delusions who thinks he’s way too cool.”

“Jared, that’s not true at all—“

“And then there’s you. God, there’s you. You and your pretty face, your perfect smile, you social skills, someone who is loved by everyone and doesn’t even have to try hard. You’re way out of my league. I can’t believe I thought I had any chance of even being friends with you.”

“Hold on. Did you just say I’m pretty?” (Y/N) flushed a deep red.

Jared sat there, his mouth agape, registering what he just said. Then he threw his hands up.

“Oh, fuck it. (Y/F/N), I fucking love you. I don’t even know how long ago I started feeling this, I just know I do. Everything you do is perfect and amazing, and your smile is absolutely breathtaking. You’re breathtaking. Your hair. Your eyes. Your body. God, your body. You’re always talking about how ugly and clumsy and weird you are, and all I want to do whenever you say that kind of stuff is grab your face and kiss you. Kiss you so hard, to make you stop saying these things about yourself. And because I love you so much, and want to kiss you all over. God I want to kiss you so badly—“ he didn’t have time to finish his sentence, as her lips came crashing on his.

It wasn’t a pretty kiss. His face was all messed up and wet with tears, and their noses hit each other when she slammed her face on his. But it was perfect for both of them, because at that moment, there was only them. Jared and (Y/N), nothing else mattered.

“You just kissed me.” He bluntly stated, still in shock.

“Damn right I did.” She shyly looked away. “You talked about how much you wanted to kiss me whenever I say stupid stuff about myself to shut me up. I can say the same about you. I love you, Jared. So much. You’re one of the most amazing people I know. I can’t stand to see you thinking you’re not worth it. You mean the world to me. I love you, I love you, I love you. And I don’t want you to doubt that even for a single second.” She teared up.

“(Y/N)…”

“What.”

“Can we kiss again?” He smiled weakly.

She giggled, grabbing his face again. The kiss was less messy this time, more sweet, delicate and full of passion. They pulled away after some seconds and just stayed there, lying on each other’s embrace, eventually peppering light kisses on each other’s tear-stained faces.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening.” He whispered.

“Me neither.”

“I wanted this for so long.”

“Me too.”

“This wasn’t how I imagined it would go at all.”

“Me nei— Hey, you imagined this all happening?”

“Didn’t you?”

“Well… maybe so.”

He pressed another kiss to her lips.

“I don’t want this moment to end, (Y/N).”

“Me neither, Jared.”

As if on cue, his bedroom door swung open, revealing his mom standing on the other side.

“Dinner is on the ta— Oh my.” She laughed heartily at the two teens before her.

Both of them flushed immediately.

“Mom, it’s not—“

“Mrs. Kleinman, we just—“

“It’s ok, children, take your time. We’ll be waiting downstairs.” She closed the bedroom door with a wink.

Jared and (Y/N) looked at each other, embarrassed and red faced.

“Oh my God.” The girl whispered, obviously mortified.

“It could’ve been worse…”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“She could’ve walked on us having hot, steamy sex.”

“Jared!”

“Yeah, let’s leave that for another day.” He pecked her even redder face. “For now, we have a family dinner to attend.”

HOOOOO BOY. yeah. feedback is appreciated?? and i hope you guys liked it?? also, im taking requests if y’all want to send anything… wink wink

#dear evan hansen #DEH #jared kleinman x reader #jared kleinman #jared kleinman imagine #evan hansen x reader #connor murphy x reader #dear evan hansen imagine #evan hansen imagine #connor murphy imagine #cat tries to write

[foolishbelievers]

Russell Dickerson 1/29/17

So I was originally supposed to go with my best friend to this “Country Brunch” thing with Russell performing. She couldn’t go, so my mom was going to come with me, and then she was sick today so my dad came just so I wouldn’t have to venture through NYC alone lmao. I could have, but it’s not appealing, and I don’t get to spend much one-on-one time with my dad anymore, so I’m glad he came. He was a trooper and stood through the show and went to the VIP with me and everything haha (he’s not a music person).

The venue is a (hipster-ish) country themed bar/restaurant that was really cool. Their food’s not great, but the drinks are, so it was fine. The stage was in the back (there was no backstage entrance, only one at the front of the stage), and there was a downstairs area where the kitchen was, and it had another room with another bar and some seats, as well as a pool table, a beer pong table, and corn hole; that’s where the VIP was before the show. 

They called us in by name for VIP, and I somehow ended up first. When we walked in we weren’t sure where exactly to head to, and some radio people gave us little gifts, and then I turned around and Russell was just... there... and since I wasn’t sure what was happening (what the setup was??) I didn’t go right up to him. But he walked right up to me with open arms and was like “hey!” and went for a hug and said he liked my shirt (I was wearing one of his merch shirts that says “runs on coffee and red wine”) and I responded saying “thanks! I like the song ;)” He also acknowledged my dad, who immediately made it clear he was my father (l o l) and that I’m the big fan blah blah blah and he was only there to make sure I got through NYC safely and I rolled my eyes a bit to myself and Russell laughed and was like “nah she’s fine” lmao. I mentioned having seen him earlier this month on LI and he was like “Oh! With Tyler Farr right?” and I was like “yeah and LNT” (bc apparently I can’t shut up) and my dad chimed in about me being a Thefthead (i was dying inside bc i didn’t want to make it about them but w/e Russell was v nice about it) and I tried to round out the convo by explaining that I’d found his music through their pandora station and that I’m now absolutely in love with his music blah blah blah and we talked a little more (i can’t remember exactly what abot bc i was just having a moment standing there trying to be cool talking with him bc he’s just... so sweet... not that it was surprising but the situation was so chill and adgkldgf) but not too long bc we didn’t want to take up too much time when there were other people (i hate being the first one at meet and greet type things lmao)

after he talked with people we took photos and one of the radio people took them for us. when it was my turn and i stood next to him, Russell pulled me into him and i freaking died tbh he had a fair grip on my shoulder and my head was literally on his chest bc we were so close (and it was nice bc i get self-conscious about personal space like i never want to cross a line even accidentally so it’s validating when the artist is cool with close contact idk). we took four pictures bc even tho my phone was on auto flash, the lighting where we were kind of sucked, so after the first pic the guy was like “oh that one is messed up, let me take another,” and after the second one, he said it was better but not good, so he showed it to me and Russell and we took another one (in all of this i didn’t really say anything, mind you lol), and that one, i thought was okay, but it was still a little dark? i guess? (my phone’s brightness was on the lowest setting so that might’ve made it look worse) i wouldn’t have complained it that was the one but Russell insisted on taking another one so we could have a pic that was just right and i wasn’t gonna complain so we took a fourth one, and while the guy was checking it, Russell kept holding me into his side and was like “just keep holding it! keep holding it!” jokingly like just in case that one came out poorly, too, and then he took my phone to check it and it was A+ so he gave me my phone back and I thanked him and walked away in half a daze

he also played a couple of songs which i didn’t expect. he played a little of Blue Tacoma which is my fave of his so i was pumped and he made direct eye contact with me during the song while i was singing along and he smiled and i ascended (usually the only eye-contact i make with artists/performers during performances is funny/awkward haha) and he obviously played Yours and it was so beautiful in that intimate setting

we hung out a little more downstairs. my dad unknowingly sort of made friends with the lead singer of the opening band while they were talking about, i kid you not, Irish-related topics ? ? ? it was funny idk. my dad and i went up early to grab a spot and drink and watched the opener. side note: i discovered that i like Bud Light today. 

highlights from Russell’s set:

we were all standing a little back from the stage (bc the only way to get on/off was the front, so we had left room) and he told us to get closer, and the crowd like, hesitated (these woman got in front of me last minute and weren’t moving and i was about to be like “biiiiiiitch if you don’t want to go up then let me through bc i will” lol) and Russell was like “I don’t know what personal space is” which ik from experience now hahahaha he also joked about it saying “it’s like a fifth grade dance in here” during MGNO, when he puts in I Wanna Dance With Somebody, he went out into the crowd and danced with some of us (he danced directly in front of me which was v awkward bc he’s so tall lmao) and it was really cool and honestly v cute like he was twirling girls around and stuff honestly i love him also HE PLAYED WHISKEY ON MY BREATH. I COMPLETELY FORGOT HE’S ONE OF THE WRITERS (THERE’S SO MANY LMAO) AND HE STARTED PLAYING IT AND I WAS DYING. I DIDN’T EXPECT THAT. AND PEOPLE IN THE CROWD SANG ALONG WHICH MADE IT EVEN BETTER. IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL MOMENT.

when i left i had absolutely no voice and it felt so fucking good to feel the cold air outside bc of how hot the damn bar was but it was so much fun and ughhhhhh i already miss it.

#concert stuff #russelled