#props to my friend for telling me to 'just write something with no pressure and let it be what it is'

[waterfallofspace]

What A Way To Start A Year

T/im learns a little something about karma, friends, and care. Seems even J/on isn't quite as cold as he seems.

A M/agnus A/rchives fic, set somewhere pre-season 1. Shouldn't have any spoilers, but proceed with caution just incase~ (nothing late game, just character dynamic things)

Welcome to "I meant for this to be a little drabble and I wrote 3k words"~ Having a bit of hyperfixation and burn out as I started this new year, soooo I decided to make T/im suffer <3 Not promising quality seeing as I wrote this all in the span of tonight, but consider it a lil 'too long' drabble, and happy new years!

Best way to start off the new year, giving one of your lil guys a lil snz <3

Characters: T/im, M/artin, S/asha, and J/on. Word Count: 3.9k

(CW: There is some swearing, and light descriptions of high fevers)

Christmas had been good this year, maybe the best it had in a long time. Life of the party as always, Tim had enjoyed getting to spend it with his old, and new, colleagues. On top of that, Jon had been laid up with a pretty awful cold for a couple days leading up to it, so he wasn’t around to crush any brilliant ideas Tim came up with. 

This led to the budget receiving a fairly substantial hit, though many researchers donated to the cause when they learned this borrowing wasn’t exactly approved. Hell, even Elias had pitched in, claiming something or other about ‘archivists fit for the job not exactly growing on trees’, and wanting to ‘save some of Jon’s sanity’. 

“Tim? Are you even listening to me?”  

Pulled back to the conversation at hand, Tim lifts his gaze to the taller man fidgeting nervously in front of him. Martin was never one for confrontations, and usually the first ‘no’ would have been more than enough to lead to a string of apologies for even asking. Today however, he seems to have grown a spine. At the worst possible moment. 

“Oh come on,” Martin continues, missing the groan slipping from Tim’s throat. “Even Jon agreed to it!” 

“I’m not really in the party mood,” Tim retorts, leaning back in his chair. “Besides, Jon didn’t agree to celebrate, he agreed not to stop the celebration. Not the same thing.” 

From across her desk, Sasha gives a low chuckle. “He’s got you there, Martin.”

“Can you at least give it a little thought before turning it down?” Martin insists, completely out of character for someone usually so eager to please. 

What the hell has gotten into him today? He didn’t even seem to enjoy himself that much at the Christmas party. Sure, he had a few drinks and mingled with the staff, but he’d left as soon as it was over, not waiting around for chatting like Tim and Sasha.

Clearing his throat with a grimace, Tim casts Sasha a dark look as she chuckles again. Knowing far too much, as usual. Especially when it came to him. If it was anyone else, Tim would hate it with all his being, but given that it’s Sasha… well it’s a welcome invasion. 

Still, it would be nice if she didn’t rat him out. And to Martin of all people, well let’s just say he saw what happened when Jon was sick. Yeah, passing on that one. Attention is great, Tim lives for it, but the coddling? Not really his style. 

“hiEH– guh…”

Damn, that had been a close one. Thankfully Martin seems oblivious, though Sasha sits up in her chair, reaching down into a drawer to fish something out. 

Turning his focus back to Martin, Tim provides an offer, desperate to just have the interaction come to an end. 

“Fine, I’ll show up, but I don’t want any part in planning it.” 

“Oh of course, I’ll handle all the details, I mean it’s just a new years party, how much can there really be to do? I mean food, timing, gotta make sure we have keys to the building– oh but if Jon’s there, that shouldn’t be a problem…” Martin says, rambling beginning to fade into the background as Tim finds himself unable to- 

“hH– ek’CHhiew!” 

“-Oh, bless you!” Martin says, his own thoughts long forgotten. 

Unable to get a word out, Tim merely waves a hand, ducking into his shoulder for another, “eTChhew!” 

“Bles-” 

And another, “iTSChh’ew!” 

“Oh ble-” 

And another, “ehh– kTChh’iew!” 

Silently Sasha stands, handing Tim a pack of tissues. Must have been what she was looking for in the desk. Once again, knowing more than she should, of course she picked up on his patterns. 

Accepting them gratefully, Tim pulls a few out and roughly rubs at his nose, pointedly avoiding Martin’s worried gaze. Gripping his still trembling nose through the tissue, Tim sucks in a tight breath through his teeth, holding for a beat, before finally spinning around in his chair for a final- 

“hH’ETCSHh-ieuw! Whew, bless me.” 

Martin’s hands are fidgeting again, seemingly unsure of what to do with himself as Tim gives his nose a light massage through the tissue. He’s aware enough not to point it out, but is nearly shaking with the effort of suppressing his concerns. 

With a sigh, Tim meets his eyes. “I’m fine, Martin. I always sneeze like that.” He leaves out ‘when I’m sick’. It also happens if he’s suffering allergies, though he doubts that would be a point in his defense given it’s the middle of winter. 

“Yeah he’s not kidding,” Sasha pipes up, throwing Tim a wink as he glares. “You should hear him in spring, once it starts he can be going for hours.” 

“I wouldn’t say hours, Sash-” 

“Remember the cherry blossom incident?” Sasha interrupts, sending a sugary smile over to Martin. “He was wrecked for the rest of the day, I was almost certain he was never gonna stop. Even considered giving a statement here, that reaction was almost supernatural.” 

Tim winces, an audible moan slipping from his lips. “We swore to never speak of it again.” 

Sasha laughs, Tim giving her another playful glare from behind his tissues. “You swore that, I did no such thing.” 

Thankfully Martin doesn’t pry, having enough common sense to offer a polite chuckle, and offer some excuse about ‘planning’. Still, he can’t help himself from shooting a meek “I hope you feel better soon” over his shoulder, Tim giving him finger guns in return. 

“This is karma, you know,” Sasha calls after Martin’s outside earshot. “You took pleasure in Jon’s suffering, so now it’s your turn to suffer the same fate.” 

“No, thi- eTChhew! Scuse me,” Tim says, rubbing his nose with the tissue one last time before depositing it in his nearly overflowing trash can. Another tissue is plucked as his eyes begin to water, nostrils flaring with reckless abandon. Never just one. 

“kTChh’uew! hh’iTChh –uew! Tihhckles… eTCHh! etchh’uh! hiehh–” 

The last one toys with him, tracing the rims of his nostrils, back up his sinuses, a gentle itch that seems to burn against every inch of his nose. Finally, with a desperate gasp, Tim ducks into his wrist for the last, “heh’ATChhh –iew!” 

“Many blessings. Sounds like you need them,” Sasha offers with a wince, tossing another pack of tissues over, which Tim catches with a single hand, the other still gripping his nose. 

After taking a moment to clean himself up, Tim shoots her his signature smile, ignoring the eye roll she shoots back. “Where was I?” 

“Admitting this is karma?” 

“It’s not karma, it’s lack of common sense. Going to a party where a coworker is sick, and still drinking and eating the same meals” Tim says, aiming a rough cough into his sleeve. 

Sasha winces once more at the quality of the cough, hands rummaging through her drawers once more as she tosses a reply back. “And yet you’re the only one who caught it. Seems like karma to me.” 

Closing the distance between them in a single stride, Sasha places a hand on Tim’s shoulder, voice softening. “It’s two days till new years, why don’t you go home and try to get some rest? I doubt Martin will object, and I’ll cover for you with Jon.” 

Before Tim can form his rebuttal, Sasha places a box of paracetamol and a jar of vapor rub in front of him. Nodding his thanks, Tim lets out another harsh cough into his arm, leaning as far away from Sasha as he can manage. 

With a light rub to his shoulder, Sasha walks to the door, holding it open with a pointed look. “Go home, you sound awful.” 

“Alright, alright. I got the message. hH’ETchhiew!” Tim says, gathering his care package and beginning his walk down the hallway. 

“If I hear the rest of that fit happening in this building, I’m telling Martin how ill you really are,” Sasha calls after him, a smile flashing over her face as Tim holds up his hands in mock surrender, before ducking back into his arm with another muffled burst. 

— 

“You look horrible.” 

Tim manages a weary smile from behind the tightly wound scarf. “Thagk you.” 

Martin winces, standing in the doorframe, seemingly oblivious to the winter chill soaking into Tim’s bones. Even just the walk from the train station was hell on earth, standing out here is doing him no favours. 

Turning away with a throat scraping cough, Tim manages to clear the congestion enough to finish the sentence somewhat understandably. A great feat, given how fast his voice is retreating. “May I remind you that I’m only here because you insisted.” 

“Right, well I… I didn’t know how bad-” Martin begins, realizing spreading across his face like a wildfire as a chill leaves Tim breathless. “Oh god, I’m making you freeze to death while you’re already this sick, I’m so sorry, come in, I’ll go make you a tea.” 

Tim nods his thanks as he piles inside the warm institute, cursing his aching lungs as each breath of warm air seems to burn them from the inside out. Martin rushes away, nearly crashing into a few researchers as he makes his frantic dash for the kitchen. 

The scarf is reluctantly removed, a shudder running through Tim’s back as the warm air does nothing to soothe what he’s now certain is a growing fever. A few researchers wave to him, offering some idle chit-chat as he makes his way inside.

For the most part, people give him a wide berth, apparently he looks as bad as he feels. Tissues in hand, gripping them like a lifeline, Tim finds his way to a couch and lets himself sink into it. The party buzzes around him, fading into background noise. 

Martin returns soon after, the mug vibrating slightly as he attempts to steady his hand. “I wasn’t sure what kind you’d want, we have a pretty limited amount, but I have a few extras in my desk– oh I could have probably found one for colds and flus, I’m not sure which this is, I thought cold before but you look-” 

“Martin,” Tim interrupts, voice cutting uncomfortably through his raw throat. “Can I have the cup?” 

“Oh, right, sorry!” Martin says, a sheepish grin crossing his face, nerves more than anything else, as he hands Tim the mug. Tim gives another appreciative nod, taking a cautious sip. 

The warm liquid feels like heaven against his throat, and he barely manages to choke back a whimper. The flavour is still a mystery, Martin never actually got to that part. Given how little he can taste at the moment, seems it’s gonna remain that way. Still, the heat beginning to warm his chest is a welcome relief, and Tim has to fight to keep his eyes from drifting shut…

“Watch out!” 

The voice rouses him, his eyes snapping open just in time to witness Jon dropping to his knees in front of the couch. The realization doesn’t sink in for another minute, Tim blinking the tired from his eyes and trying to figure out why people are staring… and why there’s a hand on his finge– 

Oh, the tea. Thankfully Jon’s reflexes seemed to kick in just in time, his hands guiding Tim’s cup to the table next to him. Judgement clouds the boss's eyes as he turns back, fully ready to chastise Tim, no doubt. Jon opens his mouth, one hand beginning to point, but as his eyes scan Tim’s form, his demeanor changes instantly. 

“You don’t seem well.” Jon’s voice is still firm, but with a hint of something Tim can’t quite place. On anyone else, he’d call it concern. On Jon… perhaps concern isn’t far off, though the underlying criticism of the statement irritates him. 

“I wonder why that could be? It’s almost as if someone came to the Christmas party sick enough to fall asleep standing. Twice.” Tim says, sarcasm lining his words, alongside the congestion he can’t seem to fully shake. 

“Well in that case,” Sasha chimes in, cheerful voice a natural antithesis to the misery coursing through Tim’s system. “Seems you’re halfway there!” 

“Hey, I was lying down, that’s hardly the sahh… same thing– hH’ETchh!” 

“Here we go,” Sasha says, already turning on her heel to find a tissue box as Tim’s hitches increase in desperation. 

“aHTChh’ew! gn’tchhew!” 

“Bless,” Jon offers, a brief confusion crossing his face as Sasha laughs, shaking her head. 

“He’s not done,” She says, handing over the tissue box. 

Tim grabs for it blindly, too caught up in the fit to even attempt dignity. Still, the eyes on him do leave him with a hint of embarrassment, and the onslaught is muffled as best he can manage. “hH’MMpshhew! eMPFShh’ieh! hh’MFSHhueh!” 

Blessings sound out from the room, Tim managing to wave a hand towards the ones offering them, eyes still watering. As the fit seems to stall, he lowers his tissues, red nose now visibly twitching. 

“Are you alright?” Jon asks, the hint of concern from before now plainly evident. That’s frankly more alarming than it should be, and Tim finds himself wanting to… reassure the boss. 

“I’m okay, it’s juhh… j-just… huhh–” But it seems his nose has other plans, a tissue being raised once more as Tim paws at the appendage. “‘Scuhhse me, I still have… hahhve to… to… hiHh– eTCHh’ew! hk’ASCHh–oo!” 

This time the tickle fades with the final pitchy sneeze, Tim letting out a low groan as he mashes his nose into the ever growing collection of tissues he’s clutching. A few people call out final blessings, Sasha laughing out hers as Tim’s face goes red once more. 

Martin picks this time to enter the room with drinks, Tim letting his eyes flutter shut as the focus shifts off his misery. A gentle touch keeps him from drifting off to sleep, prying open an eye to find Sasha settling onto his left. 

“Careful, don’t want to catch this,” Tim manages, leaning against his right shoulder to muffle another stream of chesty coughs. Sasha winces as it goes on past the realm of comfort, her hand finding his back. 

“Don’t worry about me, I haven’t earned this cold, I didn’t make use of Jon’s or your suffering,” She says, the playful tone not masking the growing worry in her posture. 

While she can read him like a book, she’s no mystery to him either. The tension in her fingers, absentmindedly stroking patterns on his back. The way she subconsciously tries to support his body weight, despite them both sitting. The look in her eyes when he manages to stall the coughing long enough to meet them. 

With this brief respite from the attack, Sasha takes the chance to bring Tim’s tea back, his fingers wrapping around the warm mug. The first few sips burn, his lungs protesting, begging to return to their efforts to expel all the irritation. By the third, however, the warmth is spreading once more, easing the spasms. 

“Alright?” Sasha asks, beginning to stand from the couch. Tim nods his reply, taking another slow sip. “Think you’ll make it till midnight? We’ve still got a few hours to go.” 

He nods his approval again, not yet trusting his voice enough to make an attempt. Sasha simply smiles, easing back into the party that– Tim had almost forgotten existed. That fever must be worse than he thought, given how loud it is. A fact that’s now pounding against his head in harmony with his heartbeat. 

The party continues on, Sasha and Martin taking turns checking in on Tim as he slips rapidly in and out of consciousness. Seconds turn to hours, and before he knows it, it’s two minutes to midnight. 

As Tim blinks against the harsh fluorescent lighting, it’s Jon that stands before him, hand hovering near his side. Tim begins to speak, breaking off into a cough as his voice comes out rough with sleep and congestion. 

“What’s up boss?” He manages with the second attempt, not missing Jon’s wince at the nasal quality. 

“You simply look… well, the festivities are nearly over, I was just inquiring as to…” Jon seems to get stuck, eyes wandering down to the couch as he finishes. “I know you took the train here, I was seeing if you needed an escort home.” 

“How kind, I’d be delighted to have your accompaniment,” Tim responds, the wit clouding the fact he… hadn’t actually considered needing to go home. Jon seems to take this answer as satisfactory, ignoring all the sarcasm as he gives a tight nod and an out of practice smile. 

From across the room Martin calls out, something about a countdown. Tim attempts to pull himself to a stand, finding Sasha’s arm around his waist, guiding him to the wall. Leaning against it, he lets his rough voice join the chorus as they count into the new year. 

Despite how the lights and noise had pounded into his skull, everyone chanting in unison helps Tim realize that… there actually aren’t that many people here. Aside from his coworkers, there’s only a few researchers, and Elias is not in attendance.

Honestly, thank whatever cosmic being may exist for that one, he had been none too fond of Jon’s arriving sick. Tim shudders to think what he would have said about this state. He shouldn’t have come, but… something about how insistent Martin was… well he just couldn’t disappoint that loveable idiot. 

Somehow Tim finds he’s managed to keep up with the counting, despite being worlds away in his thoughts. As they approach the final numbers, a feathery sensation begins to spread through his nostrils- no. 

Absolutely not, this is not the time. It’s never just one, there’s not enough people here, someone’s gonna notice. And I mean, it’s not like he’s hiding the fact he feels like death, but… drawing that much attention is also not the goal. 

“Five! Four!”

“hiehh- h’ngTchh!” He manages to stifle the first, the congestion pounding in his head as the tickle seems to only get worse. 

“Three! Two!” 

“I cad’t– nNDtch! nGTCh’uh!” 

“One–” 

As the cheers begin to erupt, Tim ducks into the tissues with a scraping, “ehg’TCHhiew!” 

“Happy new years!” 

“yiEShh’iew! etchh’uh! hH’AESHH –oo!” Tim dips into his hands again, managing to sink down against the wall as he lets out a congested blow, ending the fit.

“What a way to ring in the new year,” Comes Sasha’s voice, her form blocking the light from Tim’s eyes as he looks up, fever blurring his vision.

“Shud ub.” 

“Christ Tim, you sound awful,” Jon adds, his form appearing behind Sasha’s. 

“Thagks boss,” Tim retorts, groaning as he notices a third form, Martin’s nervous fidgeting easy to spot even from this angle. Martin remains silent, though his eyes seem to hold more concern than any of them, and… guilt? Or maybe that’s just the delirium. 

Glancing up to meet Sasha’s gaze, Tim offers a weary, “Tibe to go hobe?” 

She nods softly, kneeling to help him to his feet, Martin wordlessly taking his other arm. Jon stands off to the side, hesitating. What for, who knows. All Tim can focus on is one step after the other, just gotta make it home, then he can sleep. For the rest of forever, at this rate. 

As they get to the door, Martin helps wrap the scarf around Tim’s neck, forcing him to lift it from its perch against Sasha’s shoulder. Sasha, for her part, supports his weight with ease, she was always stronger than she looked. 

Martin keeps casting glances towards Tim, obviously fretting over something. Too tired to manage his usual charm, Tim gives Martin the softest look he can manage. “Jusd say id, please. You’re makigg me nervous.”

“I’m so sorry I asked you to come, you’re obviously so unwell, and I know I didn’t really know that at the time, but I should have, or at least texted and checked in, I just… I wanted us all to get along so bad and I thought if you came it would mean more fun because you’re always so lively and good at talking to people and-” 

Tim holds up a hand, eyes glazing over as Martin stops short, breath coming almost as rapidly as Tim’s. After a minute goes by, Martin starts to open his mouth, seeming confused by the interruption, before nearly jumping out of his skin as Tim ducks into his fist. 

“eTCHh’ew! hH’YEAShh –iew! Sorry, I feld those cobigg… waid– hih’ETCHhew! heAYSHh’oo!” Tim ducks down again, Sasha grabbing him tighter to support the harsh shudders as he attempts to keep his balance. 

“Oh bless you,” Martin offers, voice coming out timid. Tim gives him, what he hopes is, a warm smile despite the fever taking hold of the last corners of his mind.

“If I didn’t wanna cobe, I would have stayed hobe. I dod’t blame you.” 

Martin nods silently, a relief seeming to flood his face. Taking his place once more supporting Tim, they move towards the exit. Opening the door, the first wave of cold floods the entryway, and a chill so violent runs through Tim that both Martin and Sasha take a step back to brace him. 

It’s now that Jon speaks up, voice strained with a type of worry Tim hadn’t heard before. “No, we’re absolutely not doing this, I refuse.” 

The trio turn towards him. Though perhaps a more accurate description is that Martin and Sasha turn, Tim simply goes along for the ride. Martin mumbles something about ‘no other choice’, but Sasha asks what Jon’s on about. 

“It’s too cold out there, it’s the middle of the damn night, there’s no way I’m letting him go home like this.” 

“And what do you suggest we do as an alternative? He can’t stay here-” Sasha begins, pausing as Jon turns towards her. 

“Why not? I’m the archivist, this is my archive,” Jon begins, pausing for a moment, before adding, “Well, Elias’s, but I hardly think he’d suggest we send an employee home in this weather while they’re this sick. That’s just bad management, he’ll freeze to death before even reaching the train.” 

As if to confirm this assumption, Tim shudders violently, ducking into his chest with a tired, “hh’eshhew! eTCHh’iew!” followed by a heavy sigh. Martin mumbles something about covering, but quickly silences himself as Tim begins to tremble again. 

Sasha gives Jon a look, seeming to read him for any hints of doubt, perhaps searching for an ulterior motive. After a brief pause, their eyes meeting, she gives a tight nod, approval of some kind. 

“Come on Martin, let’s get him back to that couch, he can sleep there for the night,” Sasha directs, Martin nodding his acceptance. 

Tim manages to catch snippets of the conversation as they get him settled. Jon fetching him a blanket he keeps in his office. Martin providing some more tea. Sasha grabbing tissues and medication for when he wakes up. Something about Jon sleeping in his office so he’s not alone, and Sasha coming in early to help him home. 

With his final bout of consciousness, Tim holds up a hand, the conversation immediately pausing. “Thagk you guys. And… esSHhh’ew! And, I’b sorry.” 

All three stare at him for a minute, before Sasha breaks first. Her laughter fills the silence, Martin joining in soon after, and even Jon letting a few chuckles slip out. When they’ve finally collected themselves, Sasha gives Tim a warm smile. 

“Sleep well, Tim. I’ll come fetch you in the morning.” 

With a content sigh, Tim lets his eyes drift shut again, his consciousness fading to the soft hum of his friends in the background. 

Alright, so maybe coddling isn’t quite so bad after all.

#waterfallwrites #the m/agnus a/rchives #was that my tag?? i think it was ahuguh #anyways i wrote this in a flurry of 'i need to do something about my hyperfixation' induced attention span #took many breaks but all in all took about 6ish hours (including the breaks) #and im kinda proud of myself for just! doing it!! #props to my friend for telling me to 'just write something with no pressure and let it be what it is' #so this is a drabble that turned into an actual fic bc i didnt! pressure myself! #if it sucks it sucks- if it doesnt it doesnt- whatever it is i made it and im gonna be happy with that #plus its t/ma which rn is just... SOOO it for me. i am so hyperfixated #and t/im is my beloved i love this man #and i may possibly try to write about j/ons version of this cold and maybe The Cherry Blossom Incident #but i actually have a different t/ma fic in the works so that one comes first <3 #anyways yes here you go!! i toss this into the void! and see if! anyone wants it! #t/ma #t/im s/toker

[erin-bo-berin]

ok ok I just randomly had another thought. Reader and Steve have always known they'd have kids eventually, but Steve's been trying to convince her to start trying for ages and she keeps being like yeah soon soon just not yet. so Steve's casually mentioning it the morning of his X birthday as he and reader snuggle in bed, and she's giving him the same old story later later--they've developed this whole routine so it's not a big deal when it happens. he has such baby fever it just comes up at any opportunity these days.

so they have his birthday party with the whole gang. and I don't know how you're going to do this but maybe Robin brings her niece?? and we get to see Steve interact with this little baby and his baby fever is just getting worse. and obviously he's adorable and so good with this baby and doesn't want to give her back.

and after everyone finally leaves the party you have two presents for him. first, some very sexy lingerie (you've never worn anything like this before and Steve is going to have to work very hard not to tear it to shreds when he rips it off of you) and so you're getting busy and you're about to really get into it but you have a second gift for him... you're finally ready to start trying for a baby so you give him something that signifies that. I like the idea of giving him your IUD in a velvet jewelry type box but maybe that's anachronistic? I have no idea I just want him to look up into your eyes and know exactly what that is and be like babe? are you serious?

and then we watch this poor boy lose his fucking mind going to town on you (opportunity for breeding kink but not necessary)

I know you have lots of other fic ideas you're working through Erin. I mostly wrote this bc I thought you might like it--no pressure to actually write it if it's not interesting to you!

ok love you bye 🔥🏀

YES HOLY YES. I love this so much I can’t wait for you to read this. Just IMAGINE the disbelief and happiness!

Yes, I’m using another gif of him shirtless in the upside down. Am I sorry? No.

Birthday Wishes

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Smut

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to yoooouuuu!”

Steve groaned, opening his eyes, seeing you laying next to him, head propped in your hand. You were beaming and singing at the top of your lungs.

“Happy birthday dear Steeeeeve,” you continued.

“You’re a horrible singer, you know,” he mumbled sleepily.

You didn’t let that deter you from finishing the song.

“Haaaaappyyyy birthday toooo youuuu!”

He chuckled, amused by your performance.

“Thank you, baby,” he smiled, kissing your nose.

“Did you like the song?” you beamed.

“Eh. 5 out of 10,” he joked.

You gasped dramatically.

“Five out of ten? You hurt me.”

You knew good and well that you couldn’t carry a tune to save your life, so you didn’t take the teasing to heart.

“The look on your face when you woke up was priceless though. You looked like you were in pain.”

“I was. At least my ears were,” he grinned.

“Asshole,” you laughed, hitting his chest.

He laughed, pulling you closer to him.

“So, are you looking forward to your party today?” you asked, laying your head in the crook of his arm.

“I am,” he said, “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have such great friends and a girlfriend to throw me such an extravagant party.”

“Only for the best birthday boy,” you beamed.

“You know what would really make it the best birthday ever?” he asked, nosing your cheek.

You had an idea where he was going with this and you snickered.

“Hm? What would that be?”

“If you finally agreed to start trying for a baby.”

You felt his pout against your collarbone and you laughed inwardly.

Starting a family was something you and he had discussed many times before. It was something you wanted to, but you’d been putting him off, telling him soon. At first, it was because you wanted to wait a bit, but for last few weeks, it had been for a different purpose.

“Soon,” you promised.

He frowned, though didn’t look upset by your answer, just looked like a puppy trying to convince its owner to drop a piece of meat. He was literally giving you puppy dog eyes.

“You’re going to deny me on my 21st birthday?”

His pout deepened and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.

“What’s so funny?” he huffed a laugh, all smiles again.

“You just look so cute when you give me the puppy dog eyes,” you smirked.

“Cute enough for a baby?”

“Ah, nice try,” you grinned, wagging your finger at him, “Someone better be a good boy if he wants his presents later.”

“Like at the party later?” he questioned, brow raised.

“Like in private, later.”

Your smile was devious; his interest was piqued.

“I like the sound of that,” he hummed, leaning in for another kiss.

You stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“You need to get ready for your party, big boy. You can’t be late for your own birthday party.”

He relented, sitting up in bed. He threw you a smirk as he headed to the bathroom.

“Who cares? I’m the man of the hour anyway.”

•

“I don’t know which birthday song was worse, yours or all the kids’ screaming version,” Steve muttered to you, taking a bite of his cake.

“You love them,” you laughed softly.

“I do,” he grinned.

“Look who I brought!” came a singsong voice.

“It’s about time Robin showed up,” Steve rolled his eyes, “Always late for something.”

“This time you’ll be thrilled when you see why,” you said, pointing over his shoulder.

Robin had brought her niece, Anna with her. The little girl was just barely six months old, full of curiosity and spoiled rotten already by her auntie Robin. You and Steve absolutely loved Anna.

“Better go get you some baby cuddles,” you told him, “Before Joyce spots her and hogs her for the rest the afternoon.”

Joyce was so maternal and a great mom to her two boys, Jonathan and Will and her adopted daughter El. She loved deeply and fiercely, willing to go to bat for her kids at any time. She was starting to get anxious for grandkids though and you were positive whenever you and Steve had kids, she was adopting them as her own grandkids.

“Already on my way.”

You laughed, watching Steve make a beeline for Robin, taking Anna in his arms. He smiled at her, talking to her and booping her nose with his finger.

Seeing Steve with the kids and babies especially, did weird things to you. You felt a bit of a longing, wanting that to be your own baby. You felt love, seeing how good he was with them. You felt desire, the desire to want to have his babies.

You took a sip of your drink, eyes still glued to your boyfriend.

All in due time.

•

“I’m not sure who spoils her more, you or me,” Robin watched Steve with a grin.

“Definitely me,” he affirmed with a nod, “But she’s just too sweet not to.”

He pretended his hand was a tickle monster, it attacking her tummy making her squeal with laughter.

“Is that funny, is that funny?” he cooed to her, kissing her head, “Uncle Steve loves to make you laugh.”

“You have such baby fever right now,” Robin shook her head.

He groaned.

“I know. I can’t help it.”

“Y/N still hasn’t changed her mind?”

He frowned, shaking his head no.

“She says she wants to. At least she has before, but she just keeps saying “later” or “soon”. What if she’s changed her mind and doesn’t want kids? Or worse, doesn’t want kids with me?” he frowned, brows furrowing at the thought.

“I think you’re just overthinking it,” she said plainly.

“Why do you say that?”

“One, she’s crazy about you Steve. She loves you so much. I doubt she doesn’t want to have kids with you. Two, it’s a big deal, Steve. It’s a big responsibility and maybe it still scares her. Just give her time. Although,” she smirked, peering over his shoulder, “The smolder of her gaze is enough to set your entire outfit on fire, which I’m sure she’d welcome right about now.”

He turned around, seeing you staring at him. You smiled, waving at him innocently before turning to a conversation Max and Dustin were having.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, bewildered.

Robin was just giving him a knowing smirk.

“Just the way she was staring at you just now, while you’ve been holding Anna? She’s practically screaming “let me have your babies!” Steve.”

“I think you’re exaggerating.”

“And I think you’re blind,” she retorted, “I’m telling you, all you gotta do is seduce her a little cause she looks ready for it.”

“Ugh, ew, Robin. I am not discussing my sex life with you.”

“Thankfully,” she shot back, dryly, “All I’m saying it that you should keep trying. I think you both are going to make great parents.”

Steve smiled, handing Anna the toy that had fallen out of her grasp.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

•

Before the party wrapped up, you’d excused yourself claiming you had to prepare Steve’s present from you. Technically, you were.

You left specific instructions with Robin to let Steve know where to find you when the last person left. You squirm anxiously when you hear his footsteps coming down the hall.

You sit on the end of the bed, waiting anxiously, chewing on the bottom of your lip.

“Babe?”

“In here,” you called back, sweetly.

The door opened and he froze in the doorway, jaw practically on the floor. You hadn’t done anything like this before, so you were a tad nervous at his silence.

You’d bought a matching lingerie set—rose red. It was a sexy, lacy bra and panties set that you felt extremely self-conscious when you’d slipped it on earlier, but his reaction looked promising.

“Damn,” he breathed, “Happy birthday to me.”

You giggled.

“You like?”

“I love.”

He was already pulling his shirt over his head and it was left on the floor by the time he reached you, hand sliding into your hair, kissing you roughly. You moaned appreciatively as his other hand squeezed your breast through the lacy thing, so thin he could feel your nipple pucker through it.

“I’m gonna…” he managed between kisses, “Rip this…” Another rough kiss. “Fucking outfit off you.”

“Please don’t,” you grinned, tilting your head, eyes closing as his lips feasted on your neck, “It was pricy and I was hoping we might be able to use it again.”

His teeth sank into your neck and you gasped at the sensation, his tongue licking over the bitten area, soothing it.

“Hell yes. You’re never getting rid of this.”

Your laughter turned into moans as his hand dipped into one cup of your bra, fingers pinching at your nipple. The slight pinch sent sparks of electricity straight to your clit that had quickly began throbbing, your need for him multiplying in every passing second.

His mouth was back on yours, as you fell back on the bed, him hovering over you. His knee was situated between your legs and you subconsciously ground against his thigh as his tongue moved with yours.

“So needy already baby?” he whispered, hands gliding over your stomach, hooking it into the waistband of the red, lacy panties then snapping it gently against your skin.

You didn’t care that he’d hardly done anything to you and you were already moaning for him as you answered him.

“Yes,” you groaned, “Need you so bad, birthday boy.”

You bit your lip at the growl came from deep within his chest. His hand rubbed over your now dripping pussy, positive he could feel just how wet you were through the material. Somehow, he also managed to unhook your bra with one hand, nimble fingers hard at work.

You slid the straps down your arms, slowly, seductively as he watched you with desire heavy eyes. You tossed it across the room and he took you in with an approving moan. He was hard and throbbing, you could feel it against your hip.

“Get those off,” you ordered, nodding to his jeans.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbled, standing up long enough to rid of them, returning to hover over you in just his boxers.

“As much as I love these,” he said, leaning down, his tongue trailing over the skin right above the band of your underwear, “They’re gonna have to go.”

“Unwrap me, big boy,” you taunted.

You pretty sure you heard a tiny rip in the underwear as he practically clawed them off like a wild animal. His finger circled your clit, as he kissed your hip bone tenderly before sucking harshly on the area.

You arched in reaction, nudging him with the side of your knee.

“Steve,” you breathed, “Before I become too far gone. I have one last present for you.”

He looked up at you, heat in his eyes.

“What could be better than this?”

“Just wait. I think you’ll like this.”

You sat up, leaning over to pull open the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a velvet jewelry box.

“Aw, you got me jewelry? You shouldn’t have,” he quipped sarcastically, sitting back on his ankles.

“Shut it butthead,” you laughed, “It’s what’s inside. Open it.”

You handed it to him and he opened it.

“Um your birth control pills?”

“Look closely,” you murmured, bringing your bottom lip in between your teeth, “I haven’t taken it for the last two weeks.”

His eyes snapped up to yours.

“What are you saying?”

He had an inkling of an idea, but he had to hear it come from your mouth just to be a hundred percent sure.

“I want to have a baby. With you, Steve.”

That was all it took. He disposed of the case on the nightstand, not caring if it made it to the surface or fell to the floor—although it was a thoughtful and a gift he loved, he had more important things to take care of in the moment.

His hands cupped your face as he kissed you hard, passionately, full of the fire and longing and happiness he felt. You were already tugging on his boxers, pushing them down as you kissed him back.

“Let’s put a baby in you,” he growled against your lips.

“Yes sir,” you teased.

The teasing lilt didn’t last long though when he thrusted roughly and deeply into you, making you moan in an unusually wanton way. His mouth found your pulse point, sucking on it. You were sure he could feeling your racing heart beneath his lips.

It’s like you’d unleashed something wild in him tonight as he thrust into you roughly, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises on them from his fingers.

His hands snaked under your ass and lifted your hips just enough that with every thrust his pubic bone hit your clit, making you see stars behind your eyes. Your legs were wrapped around his back, hands grabbing his own ass as you tried to push him deeper into you.

It was rough, sweaty and passionate sex. In fact, it was the most intense sex you’d ever had with Steve and it was hot. There was something primal about it as you let your body be completely lost in his, moaning without abandon.

Your moans had become a chorus of Steve, oh god and yes. His usually perfectly swooped hair now fell into his face, giving him a sexy, rugged look, the ecstasy written into every micro expression on his face.

His hips tilted the slightest, hitting a delicate spot so perfectly, it made you arch into him with a whine. Your body was buzzing and you couldn’t get enough of him.

“So good, baby,” he groaned, eyes falling shut, “Gonna fill you up until you’re leaking my cum.”

His words were as good as giving you an electric shock and your pussy clenched around him, your orgasm coming dangerously close to unleashing itself throughout your body.

“Steve,” you whined, chest heaving as you reached between your connected bodies to rub your clit.

With a growl, he knocked your hand away, replacing it with his own. Your mouths met in a sloppy kiss as you both got closer to undeniable bliss.

His mouth attacked your neck, sucking hard enough that you knew there’d be bruises left later. His moans were muffled by your skin, but somehow that made it even better as he worked you until you were trembling.

“Cum for me, baby,” he uttered just as you could no longer hold back.

He was throbbing inside you and the feeling became too much as you squeezed around him again, fireworks going off in your head, whole body arching into him.

You cry was pleasure filled as your fingers and heels of your feet dig hard into his skin, the orgasm powerful and swift as it swept through your body. Within a few more thrusts, he was following you, his eyes squeezed and lips parted in such a beautiful sight.

Your soft moan was met with a kiss as you felt the warmth of his release dripping down your thighs. You loved feeling him cum within you, but it was even more special tonight after your gift.

He thrust a few more times, pushing his cum back inside you and smirked against your lips as you squirmed at the sudden sensitivity.

“Gotta make sure it keeps, babe.”

When he pulled out of you—even as sensitive and sore you were—you missed the fullness, the stretch and kinda immediately wanted him back inside you.

He grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed, sliding it under your hips and elevating your lower half. You watched, amused, even in your half dazed and sated state.

“I read somewhere to keep your legs propped up for at least half an hour after sex if you want to get pregnant,” Steve explained sheepishly.

You grin, obliging him as he settles next to you.

“You know, it’s a lot more fun if we don’t get pregnant right away,” you pointed out.

“Jesus,” he breathed, “You keep doing that to me and I just might die.”

“Well, people always say trying is the fun part,” you smirked.

“I’m definitely not denying it,” he laughed, rubbing a hand over your stomach, pulling you closer for a kiss.

“Thank you for making my birthday wish come true,” he smiled, his forehead resting against your own.

You had a devious smile on your lips as you pulled back so you could look at him more clearly.

“Oh honey, we’re only just beginning the celebration.”

He groaned as he captured your lips with his, once again climbing over you.

The birthday boy was going to be in for a night of celebrating, that’s for sure.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things smut

[thegettingbyp2]

hii, i have a request for Jess Mariano if you’re still writing for him! could you do one where Jess is in love with reader, but they’re just friends (for now…👀) and reader is doing homework with Jess. he can’t focus though because he’s so in love. just a lot of fluff. no pressure, you don’t have to do this, it was just an idea. thanks! :)

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Jess didn’t need any help with his homework. He was bright, he knew all of the answers pretty much as soon as he looked at the paper. Yet, he never said no when you offered to stop by the diner so you could help each other with your homework. He loved your company, you were his best friend and, you didn’t know it, but he was in love with you too.

The two of you were sitting at the table in front of the long window in the diner, your books scattered around you on a couple of tables as you groaned in frustration. Your hair was piled on your head in a messy bun, secured by a pencil which Jess knew that if he were to pull the pencil away from your head, your hair would fall back down around your shoulders in the way he loved so much.

‘What did you get for the second question?’ you asked, looking up to see Jess staring out the window, his head propped up by his hand. ‘Jess!’ you exclaimed, tapping him with your pen and jolting him out of his thoughts, making you giggle, a sound that made Jess’ heart beat a little faster.

‘What did you say?’ he asked, looking over at you, smiling softly.

‘What did you get for the second question?’ you repeated your earlier question, laughing at the way he gently shook his head before looking down at his own papers.

‘I haven’t got anything,’ he said, looking back up at you before getting up to go and fetch the coffee pot.

‘Well, what about the third one?’ you called across to him.

‘I don’t know, have a look to see what I put,’ he replied as he grabbed a plate and started to load doughnuts onto it before heading back over to you with the doughnuts and coffee pot in his hands.

You reached over and snagged his paper, pulling it over to you so you could read it, both of your eyebrows raising in surprise when you saw that he hadn’t filled any of it in. ‘Why haven’t you written anything?’ you asked as he sat back down, automatically filling your mug before setting the pot down and grabbing himself a doughnut.

‘I’ve not been able to focus,’ he mumbled, looking down, not wanting to meet your gaze.

‘Yeah, what’s with that? For the past couple of weeks you’ve not been focused, Jess. The amount of times I’ve looked over at you in class and you’re in another world. What’s up with you?’

‘Nothing, I’ve just been thinking about other things at the moment, not really left any room in my head for school, you know.’

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?!’ you exclaimed, putting your pen down and fully turning in your seat to look at him. ‘Jess, every time I see you at the moment, it’s like you’re here but you’re not here, what’s got you so unfocused that you can’t do anything - ’

‘I’m in love with you!’ Jess blurted loudly, making you cut off your sentence. Jess looked up at you and you were surprised when you saw that he was nervous; you never saw Jess nervous. When you didn’t say anything, Jess sighed before continuing. ‘I love you, and that’s not how I wanted to tell you, but I’ve been in love with you pretty much from the moment I met you. I’ve not been focused these past couple weeks because I’ve been trying to work out how I was going to tell you and now it’s - ’

‘Jess,’ you cut in softly and you felt yourself melt when he lifted his eyes to meet yours. ‘Can I say something?’ you asked, inching your chair closer to him and slipping your hand into his.

‘Of course,’ he whispered, his eyes moving from your eyes to your lips as he brought his other hand up to clasp yours so that your hand was firmly encased in both of his.

‘I’m in love with you too,’ you replied, smiling shyly at him. Jess let half a laugh and half a sigh of relief before leaning forward to press his forehead against yours.

‘Thank God.’

#jess mariano #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano x reader #gilmore girls

[vshthestmpede]

Hi! I was hoping to request something with Vash where he’s in love with the reader but is too afraid to confess until suddenly the reader is badly hurt and Vash is potentially about to lose them forever??? I just love confessions in the middle of some kind of angst 😅 I love your writing so much, keep up the amazing work!

in a moment's notice - vash x reader

wc; 716 warnings; angst, near death experience note; writing this gave me many feelings ;-; posted to ao3 | masterlist

it was all just a freak accident.

a stray bullet, one hell of a mistake.

you were supposed to be hiding, just as you had promised you'd do whenever a fight breaks out. you were supposed to be far away, waiting for vash to come find you when everything died down.

yet there you were, eyes wide as you clutch your stomach and gasp out his name. vash's words get caught in his throat as you drop to your knees, red seeping through your top at an alarming rate. he hurried to your side, laying you down gently as he helped apply pressure to your wound with his hand over yours.

"you — (name), what —" vash couldn't find the words as he looked to meryl desperately.

"vash," you said softly, drawing his gaze back to you. you gave him a soft smile, reaching up and wiping at the hot tears that rolled down his cheeks.

"no, no, no, don't," vash choked out, the hand on your wound shaking as his other hand cradled the back of your head. "y-you're going to be fine, (name). everything's gonna be —" he took a deep breath, " — gonna be fine. just hold on, okay?"

your smile became one of pity, already having accepted your fate. the world around you was silenced, save for vash's quiet sniffling.

"it's not your fault, vash," you murmured, cupping his cheek and rubbing his cheekbone tenderly with your thumb. "i'm sorry i broke our promise."

"stop talking like that," vash begged, pressing his forehead to yours. "please, (name). i — i can't lose you. this life. . . i need you with me. just hold on, we'll get you help."

you sighed at his desperation, his need for optimism trying to shine through despite the dire situation. vash's tears dripped from his face to yours as his body shook with silent sobs.

"vash —"

"please don't go, (name)," vash interrupted. "i love you. i can't imagine going through this life without you. i beg of you, stay with me."

you couldn't tell if it was the blood loss or the confession that was just dropped on you but time seemed to come to a halt. you stared off, completely losing focus. the next thing you know, vash is being pulled off you and you're being carted off somewhere. with your mind reeling, the world around you goes dark.

you come to hours later, finding yourself propped up in a soft bed and surrounded by your friends. meryl and vash both perked up when they noticed you stir, vash at your side in the blink of an eye. you looked up at him with a tired smile, his desperate confession ever present in your mind.

"um." you cleared your throat, looking to meryl, nicholas, and roberto. "can you guys give us a minute, please?"

while nick and roberto nodded and left as soon as you asked, meryl looked between you and vash before her eyebrows shot up and she nodded slowly, following the other two and closing the door behind her.

"i'm so glad you're okay," vash blurted out instantly, kneeling at your bedside. "i was so scared i lost you —"

" — you love me?"

vash stopped, slack jawed and a red tint to his cheeks as he stumbled over his words. he looked sheepish, as if he didn't expect his words to be thrown back at him.

"i — well, i mean," vash mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "yeah, i'll admit the execution of that confession wasn't my finest work but i meant every word."

you smiled, reaching out and grabbing his hand. you brought his knuckles to your lips and gave a gentle kiss, then turned his hand over and kissed his palm. vash watched you with wide eyes, swallowing loudly as his whole face turned a deep shade of red.

"you've no idea how i've longed to hear those words," you admitted with a grin. "though i would've preferred my near death not to be the reason you confessed, i'm glad to have heard them nonetheless."

vash chuckled nervously, moving his hand up to the back of your neck as he moved closer to you. you could sense the nerves and closed the gap between you two, gripping the collar of his jacket as your lips met.

#trigun stampede #vash the stampede #trigun #vash x reader

[luveline]

After reading your fic with the “you’re cheating on me prank” with James I was thinking how he would react with the “I think you could’ve been nicer to me today” prank.

No pressure btw in writing this but I just thought it would be cute <3

tysm for ur request! james being heartbroken at the prospect of hurting your feelings is my fave thing. 1k fem!reader

It starts as most of your bad ideas do — a video on the internet. Sent to you by a friend, the video shows a man being recorded covertly by their partner, a feminine voice in the background that says, “I think you could’ve been nicer to me today.”

The young man turns in confusion. “What?”

“I think you could’ve been nicer to me,” the feminine voice repeats forlornly. 

“What did I do, babe?”

And so on. It’s harmless and looks fun enough, plus the man in the video tries very hard to give the person recording a cuddle, and you like hugs from James. You reckon he’ll give you one pretty quickly. 

Or he might be totally clueless. Either way. 

“Jamie,” you call out softly, stretched out in his bed. 

You're waiting for the water to warm up for a shower, and he’s trying to fit in one last load of laundry before bed. It’s a normal Sunday night. 

He appears, dark eyes wide with enough affection to make you consider cancelling this whole thing and pulling him in for a kiss. You stay strong. 

“What?” he asks when you don’t say anything, hip propped against the doorway, arms crossing over his chest. “The water should be hot now.”

“I have something I want to say.”

He raised his eyebrows amusedly. “By all means, shortcake.”

You feign nervousness, sitting up off of his pillows. 

He straightens in turn. 

“I think you could’ve been nicer to me today,” you say, meeting his eyes. 

His face flickers, expression changed from curious to unhappy. “What?” he asks. 

“I just… I don’t know. I thought you could’ve been nicer.” Your voice trails into a murmur toward the end. It’s hard to sustain your facade when there’s real heartbreak dawning on his pert features. 

James crosses the short distance from the door to his bed, tossing aside a big throw cushion so he can sit by your hip. He offers his hand to you, palm up. 

You take it without thinking. 

His other hand closes around your wrist. He bracelets your forearm and starts to rub warm lines up and down. 

“Explain it to me,” he says. “I’m not disagreeing with you. Tell me what you mean.”

You search your memory for an example. It isn’t easy to find something, so you dramatise. “This morning,” you say slowly, putting the words together just milliseconds before you say them, “when we were getting ready, you didn't say anything about my choices. Usually you have something to say, and you didn't say anything." He'd been half asleep at the time. Poor boy. "And you didn't help me with the dishes earlier, either." That's true. Sorry, Jamie. 

"I'm sorry," he says, and here's where the boyfriend you'd seen on the video starts spouting excuses. James doesn't do any of that, only pulls your arm closer to his chest looking unhappy. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." 

You're quiet. It's hard to know what to say — the prank hadn't come with a script to follow. 

James leaps to fill the gap. "I really loved what you wore today. I love how you dress. And I'm truly sorry about the dishes, you cooked, you shouldn't have had to do them too. I'm so grateful for all the things you do for me, I swear I won't- I don't take them for granted, shortcake." 

"James," you say awkwardly. 

"M'sorry," he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek. 

You steal your arm from his hands and wrap your arms around him before he can move away. He sighs in relief and reciprocates fiercely, his face pushing eagerly into the crook of your neck. 

You have to hype yourself up to say it, worried you've embarrassed him. "James, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." His arms tighten around you. 

"No, I'm sorry, I saw this video on my phone and I thought it would be funny but you're being way too nice about it and-" 

He's a smart boy. James pulls his face back from your neck, hands sliding to grip your hips. "What video?" 

"Pass my phone," you say in defeat. 

James' brows start to lift as the video plays. Understanding plays on his lips, and by the end of the video he's suppressing a smile. 

"You're gonna kill me," he says, fixing you with a half-hearted glare. 

You drop the phone and cradle his pretty face. "I know. You were being too gooey, I couldn't make you stop." 

He smiles at you sweetly. Dark brown eyes, brown skin, he's the handsomest guy you've ever met and you're far from immune to his looks. 

"Is that so…" he murmurs. 

You get your hands behind his ears and drag him down for an apology kiss. "Sorry to trick you," you say. 

His laugh is warm against your lips. "Between you and me, I think I'll get over it. Maybe." He works his hand under your t-shirt to squeeze at the soft dough of your hip. His hands move slowly like he's savouring the touch, fingers spreading and then coming together as he sighs into your mouth. You're thinking maybe you've gotten away with it when he pulls back. 

"I'm still sorry for the dishes- for both. I should've told you how nice you looked this morning, and-" 

"Baby," you say, thumb stroking his jaw, "you didn't have to. You wolf-whistled at me when I was coming down the stairs. And you," — you laugh, practically snort — "called me 'hot stuff' in Tesco's." 

"You looked hot." 

"That old woman didn't think so. She looked scandalised." 

"She should be scandalised. The prettiest girl in the world was right there in the biscuit aisle."

You dissolve into lovesick giggles and tug him down with you, happy when he drops his weight into your chest, arms needling under your back. 

"I'm gonna be so nice," he threatens. 

"James." 

"I'm gonna be the nicest. You're gonna be sick of it in no time." 

"M'sorry," you say. 

His stubble scratches your collar bone as he gets comfortable. "I love you. I love you." He kisses your throat. "You're beautiful. And you dress like a fox." 

"A fox," you repeat, near giddy. 

"And you won't be doing dishes again." 

"...Ever?" 

#james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #the marauders fanfiction #the marauders fanfic #the marauders #marauders era #james potter x fem!reader

[rorywritesjunk]

there'll be space for you always in my harmony

Buggy finds out you have a hidden talent. Rating: PG. It's a little fluffy. Warning: None for once. Pining, music, it's a soft fic. A good friend plays the mandolin but I couldn't tell you anything about that instrument so I just had to think of what I've seen her do when she plays. A/N: I had fun writing this. It's borderline a song fic without being a song fic. I wanted a chance to include some of my favorite musicians into this because they are both fantastic musicians. There are 3 songs used in this story, and in order they are "Sailor's Advice" by Alexander James Adams, "The Bow's Turned Back" by Alexander James Adams , and "To My Valentine" by S. J. Tucker, of which the title of this story comes from as well. I wrote it from an Anon's request and hope you like it!

You appreciated the moments when the tent was empty of the crew, the audience, and even the Captain. It was overwhelming at times, sometimes getting to be a bit too much for you when there was so much noise and lights flashing that it was almost hard to concentrate. You were more of a behind the scenes member of the crew, not wanting to be out in the spotlight entertaining people. You were happy to help fix props and costumes than wear them or use them for the crowds.

However, being in the empty tent as night fell was your favorite time. You sat on one of the benches, smiling brightly as you unlocked the case that held one of your few treasures. You didn’t bring it out as often as you would like, not wanting others to see you with it in case they tried to pressure you to use it in front of them. 

Carefully, you pulled the mandolin from its case, admiring the 8 stringed instrument before slinging the strap over your shoulder and strumming a few chords. It just needed a tiny bit of tuning, which was easy enough. You hummed softly, making sure the chords matched the pitch of your voice as you twisted the tuners carefully. It took a few minutes before it was perfect.

Occasionally you’d look up, looking for the shadows of any approaching performer or crew. This was something you wanted to keep secret as long as possible, but you didn’t want to have to hide the mandolin away for very long. It needed to be out, to breathe, and to be played, even if it was just for you. 

You racked your brain for a tune to play. Something fun, easy, with words you didn’t have to think too hard about. When something popped in your head, you grinned and started playing the tune before singing the lyrics softly.

“Many’s the port and many’s the town Many’s a soft place to lay your head down-”

“Hey!”

You froze when you heard your Captain approaching. There was no time to put the instrument away so you sat there, holding it tightly in your hand as your hand froze over the strings. Maybe he wouldn’t realize you were actually playing if you didn’t move.

“Captain?” You replied carefully. “What can I do for you?”

He stood in front of you, arms crossed as he looked from the instrument to your face. He frowned. “Since when can you play?”

Okay, he wasn’t easily fooled. Your shoulders dropped a bit as you started to put it away. “Sorry if I was loud, Captain. I’ll put it away.”

“I didn’t tell you to do that.” He retorted. “I asked how long you’ve been playing for. Why are you holding out on me like that?”

You hesitated as you looked up at him. “I don’t… like playing in front of people. It’s more of a personal hobby than anything, Captain.”

“So?” Buggy plopped himself beside you, looking over the instrument carefully, keeping his hands to himself for now. “Keep playing. I want to hear it, so play for me.”

“B-But-”

“I’m not people, I’m just one person.” He said. “Captain’s orders, keep playing.”

You nodded and started the song up again; Buggy was watching you as you played, but suddenly gestured at you. Aw damn, did he want you to sing too? You hesitated but listened to his silent request. You didn’t want to get reprimanded for denying the Captain’s orders. 

“But finding the right one’s a hard thing to do Chart your course as you may, but you might not pull through-”

Occasionally you’d glance over at him as you sang and played. He wasn’t looking at you as he listened, his head nodding along to the music while tapping his foot to the beat. It was nice seeing the Captain so… relaxed. You were used to seeing an intense, passionate side of him during rehearsals and raids, when he wanted everything to go right. Whenever possible you’d try to give him an encouraging smile whenever he looked your way, but you were certain it didn’t register to him as anything other than friendly.

Honestly you kind of hated yourself for falling in love with your Captain. You had tried to kid yourself that it was a crush, nothing more, but it never went away over the last two years of working for him. And if anyone asked why you felt that way, you wouldn’t know what to say. Then again, is it any of their business?

When you finished the song you reached for the case to put the instrument away but Buggy grabbed your arm. He didn’t say anything, squeezing your arm for a moment before pulling his hand away. You just nodded and started up another tune for him, playing the next one that came to mind.

“When the night turns lonely, I think of you only As I’m rocked on waves of the storm Your arms around me, your charms astound me You kiss is keeping me warm-”

He moved closer to you, your shoulders touching now as he listened. You were questioning why you chose this song. A song about going home to the one you love, the one you spent time away from as you sailed the seas. You used to wonder what that would be like, coming home after time away only to return to the warm arms of your beloved. As you got older, and since joining Buggy’s crew, you stopped wondering. You wanted to be in his arms, no one else's. 

“Keep a light burnin’ I am returnin’ I’ll be home by the three quarter moon- I’ll be in your arms very soon- With every tall wave that we breach I come that much closer to your loving reach-”

You stumbled just a bit over the words to the last verse and chorus, but Buggy didn’t seem to notice or care. You finished the song and looked at him, waiting to see if he wanted another round or if he was done. He was looking at you curiously before his gaze went to your mandolin. Carefully he reached out and touched the strings, letting his fingertips strum over them. The strings hummed, making a noise but no song. 

“Do you know any songs that aren’t about the sea?” He asked quietly. You nodded hastily. “Play one of them for me.”

“O-Okay, Captain.” You really didn’t know what else to do. You were sitting captive with him, indulging in his musical requests, even if they weren’t dirges or loud songs, he still wanted to hear you play. You cleared your throat as you started up the tune. “Um, I still… don’t want to play in front of crowds, Captain.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.” Buggy replied with a shrug as he watched your fingers pick at the chords. “Just play for me.”

Your heart sang and you turned red. You really hoped he didn’t notice that as you started up the lyrics, looking down at your feet as you played.

“from far away I'm coveting your white violet skin and missing the fall of your hair worlds away I'm courting your everything and giving you all that i dare”

He took his Captain’s hat off and removed his bandana; your eyes widened at the sight, missing a few chords as you watched his hair fall down his back and over his shoulders. What was happening? He closed his eyes as he listened, running his fingers through his hair to loosen it up from being bound up under the bandana all day. It was quite a sight to see and damn did you feel lucky to see him actually let his hair down around you.

Without warning he slumped over and rested his head against your shoulder, eyes closing as your fingers picked the chords. You hoped he didn’t hear the hitch in your voice when he let out a sigh, feeling him relax against you. What was happening? You wanted to turn your head to look at him, to see him so relaxed around you, but you didn’t want to disturb him. Maybe he didn’t want you to look, maybe he didn’t even realize what he was doing? Why did you of all people get to be around him right then in a vulnerable state?

“if wishing on stars ever falls out of fashion we'll move to the Pleiades with no backward glance maybe between worlds and blackness I'll get up the nerve to finally ask you to dance”

“You play really well.” Buggy murmured as he got comfortable against you. “I could get used to these private concerts.”

Your cheeks burned and you nodded, stumbling once more over the lyrics as you played for him.  Could you play for him, be at his beck and call when he wanted a tune? All you would ask was to never play in front of others, this was for yourself, but now for him. He was the Captain, though, and you had to obey his commands, so if he asked you to play for a crowd you’d have to listen to him.

“just to say i love you in well-hidden ways that's all any song says, each note when it's played this one's too honest, but you're smiling, i pray. i am wide open, only a little afraid.”

You leaned into him and he tilted his head a bit to look at you. Your face was burning and your palms were sweaty. The song was almost finished. Soon this moment would be over. He’d return to being Captain, you’d return to being just another member of the crew. If you mentioned this moment to anyone it would reveal your hidden talent and what the Captain had asked of you. 

The last of the lyrics were sung, you slowly stopped playing the chords, and you both sat there in silence for a few minutes. Buggy was the first to move, straightening up in his seat as you started to put the instrument away. Without a word, he leaned over to you, and as you turned to face him, you froze when your lips met your Captain’s. It was nice but not what you expected to happen, and when he pulled back you thought you were seeing the stars in his eyes by how they sparkled right then.

“Nothin’ to be afraid about.” He chuckled softly as he touched your cheek. You were glad you put the mandolin away because otherwise it would have slipped from your hands when he kissed you. “Thank you for the concert.”

“Y-You’re welcome.” You stammered out. “Just… just let me know when you want another one.”

“Tomorrow morning after breakfast would be nice.”

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown x reader

[britany1997]

Hey bestieeeee! You know I had to jump on requests again (if you're open to this one, of course)! I would personally love a part 3 to creature comfort. Maybe Dwayne going into Daddy Dom mode for David and the reader for a threesome. No pressure, I just really loved that fic and part 2 of it 🥰

Supersymmetry

Omg of course friend!! Happy to write this for you! I’m glad you love this series🥰 in keeping with my trend of naming fics in this series after Arcade Fire songs, this is my absolute favorite AF song:) This and Everything Now are hardcore smut PLEASE READ ALL THE WARNINGS

Creature comfort, Everything Now

Dwayne x GN Reader x David (Poly lost boys)

Warnings: SMUT minors DNI, Dom Dwayne, Switch David, Sub Reader, Daddy Kink (Dwayne is daddy always), a little bit of brattaming, BDSMish dynamics, bondage, penetration (reader’s sex not mentioned), riding, spit roasting, blow job, spitting, aftercare cuddles🥺 I think that’s everything

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Dwayne laid David on his bed softly, “one more thing before we start,” Dwayne said with a sly look on his face “Who’s your daddy.”

David propped himself up on his elbow, before grabbing the back of Dwayne’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “You are.”

Dwayne smirked, “and don’t you ever forget it.”

You had been approaching the doorway of Dwayne’s alcove in the cave when you overheard the boys talking.

You gasped as you creeped around to stand next to the entrance, careful not to set off either David or Dwayne’s vampire senses.

You peeked carefully into Dwayne’s room, only to be met with his eyes staring into yours. “Hi,” he said casually.

You jumped back, clutching your chest in shock.

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” he chuckled softly.

“Apparently,” you rolled your eyes before smiling sheepishly, “can I join?” You asked.

Dwayne crossed his arms and looked you up and down, “you got thrown from a bike tonight,” he reminded you, “sure you’re up for this?”

Your smile morphed into a pout as you stepped closer to him, “but daddy, I want you,” you purred.

He growled, “baby I always want you, I just want to make sure your ok. Are you sure you want to play rough tonight?”

You offered him a reassuring grin, “I’m ok Dwayne, really, I would tell you if I couldn’t take it,” you leaned forward to kiss his cheek, “I want you to go full daddy on me, c’mon don’t you wanna teach me a lesson or something?” you teased.

Dwayne raised an eyebrow, “what do you say when you need to stop?” He asked seriously.

“Bats,” you responded.

“That’s right baby,” he caressed your cheek gently, “don’t be afraid to use it if it gets too much yeah?”

“Yes daddy,” you winked.

Dwayne smiled as he threw you over his shoulder before laying you in his bed next to David, whose eyes were still glazed over.

“You wanna watch first or you wanna play first baby?” Dwayne asked.

You pretended to contemplate his question, “isn’t Davey still in trouble? Shouldn’t he watch first,” you reminded Dwayne innocently.

David growled at you. You stuck your tongue out at him.

Dwayne took your jaw in his hand and turned your face towards him, his eyebrow raised. “Bratting around already? Keep it up and it’ll be a long night for you,” he warned.

“God I hope so daddy,” you replied.

His persona slipped as his lips turned up in a prideful smile. He pressed a kiss to your lips before moving to David.

Dwayne grabbed the belt he’d used to leash David and folded it into a pair of makeshift handcuffs. “Wrists,” he commanded David.

David, having fully regained his wits, raised an eyebrow at Dwayne’s creation as he crossed his arms, “yeah, fat chance,” David scoffed.

Dwayne kneeled on the bed between David’s legs and grabbed his jaw, holding his mouth open. Dwayne spit directly into David’s mouth.

David pulled back gasping but swallowed. Your jaw dropped.

Dwayne tsked, “thought you were gonna be a good boy Davey,” he sighed, “if not that’s fine, I have no problem disciplining you again, but if you want a chance to cum tonight you’re gonna be good for daddy ok?”

David’s defiant expression shifted, “yes daddy,” he replied as he held his wrists out to Dwayne.

Dwayne slipped the make shift cuffs around David’s wrists and fastened them tightly. He pulled on the tail of the belt, leading David to a chair in the corner.

As you watched him sit you could tell David was not happy about having to watch Dwayne wreck you first.

Dwayne strode back over to where you were kneeling on the bed, “I can still be gentle if you want baby just say the word,” he offered as he stroked your cheek lovingly, “it’s been a long night, you don’t have to do this for me.”

You rolled your eyes, Dwayne was sweet but he was starting to get on your nerves, “I don’t want gentle Dwayne, I want my daddy please” you clarified impatiently, “if I need to stop I’ll tell you, promise,” you kissed his nose.

He smiled, and leaned in to press his lips to yours, “ok baby,” he said as he began to undress you and himself, “you wanna ride daddy then?”

“Yes please,” you sighed wistfully as he manhandled you till you were hovering over him.

You reached down to place your thumb on the tip of his cock and give it a few gentle strokes.

Dwayne squeezed your thigh while looking at you sternly, “did I give you permission to use your hands?”

Your face flushed red and you sputtered, “I- I’m sorry daddy, I just wanted you to feel good” you pouted.

Dwayne reached over to his bedside table to rummage through the drawer, you still hovering above him. “I know baby, that’s why I’m not going to punish you,” he pulled out a pair of cuffs, “but we are gonna have to do something about your greedy little hands.” He clipped the cuffs in place, restraining your hands behind your back.

You pouted.

Dwayne raised an eyebrow, “what do you say?”

“Thank you daddy,” you told him as he took your hips in his hands and lowered you onto his cock.

You gasped as he pushed into you with slow and gentle strokes, allowing you to get used to him.

No matter how rough he got, he always started slow, his massive size splitting you open every time.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned forward as he began to speed up, pulling moan after moan from your lips.

“So good for me baby, not an ounce of brat in you when I take you like this huh?” Dwayne whispered into your ear as he wrecked you.

David struggled against his restraints, forgotten in the corner and dying to get a taste of you as well.

Dwayne smirked as he heard movement coming from the chair he’d left his other lover tied up in. His lips ghosted against the shell of your ear as he thrust into you mercilessly, “let Davey watch you come undone on daddy’s cock,” he whispered as he stroked you, “can you cum for daddy?”

His words sent you over the edge as you let out one final moan, releasing all over him.

Dwayne kissed your forehead as you struggled to catch your breath, his length still inside you.

He brushed sweat covered hair back from your face as he maneuvered you gently till you were laying on the bed. He stroked your cheek as he looked over at David, who was straining in his boxers and biting his lip, makeshift cuffs still fastened around his wrists. Dwayne turned back to you, “you think David’s earned some time with you baby?”

You looked over at David whose eyes pleaded with you. You smiled, “yes daddy, I can keep going.” Dwayne returned your smile before moving in front of David, who looked like his fangs were going to sink directly into his lip and split it open.

Dwayne pulled off the belt cuffs and bent down to whisper in David’s ear, “don’t think this means you don’t have to listen, I won’t hesitate to spank you in front of them.” David gulped and nodded.

“Good,” Dwayne jerked his head in your direction, “don’t keep them waiting.”

David rushed over you and you sat up to greet him. He placed his hand on the back of your head and pulled you into a passionate kiss. As you returned his kiss, he reached around to take off your cuffs. “Want you to use these hands baby,” he purred as he rubbed his fingers in circles around your hips.

Dwayne leaned against the wall and watched with arms crossed.

David nosed at the pulse point on your neck, making you shudder. He chuckled softly to himself, “not gonna drink, just like the way you smell,” you sighed happily at his words.

He pulled back to stroke your face softly, “do you want just me or both of us?” David asked, still rubbing your hips.

“Both please,” you begged.

David smiled before looking to Dwayne as he pushed off the wall and walked over. “Please what?” David asked.

You bit your lip, “please sir.”

He kissed your forehead, “good baby.”

David turned to Dwayne, “can I take their mouth?” he asked.

Dwayne nodded, “go ahead.”

David took himself in his hands as you got on your hands and knees in front of him, “I got it,” you told him as you wrapped your hand around him and stroked gently.

You licked the tip of his cock causing a groan to fall from his lips. His fingers threaded through your hair as he pulled you forward impatiently.

You laughed as you took him into your mouth and began to suck, hollowing out your cheeks as moans fell from his lips.

You felt Dwayne pull your thighs back towards him from the other side of the bed, “ready baby?” He asked as he grazed his hands over your ass.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, your mouth full of David.

Dwayne pushed into you slowly, inching you further onto David as a result. The three of you let out a collective moan.

You rubbed your tongue along the underside of David’s cock as Dwayne fell into a rhythm behind you.

Every thrust sent David deeper down your throat.

David’s hands flew to the back of his head as his face twisted in pleasure while you moaned around him.

They were both so big and you felt so full. If you didn’t know any better you’d swear their tips were touching inside you.

As you felt your orgasm building you began to whimper. David looked to Dwayne, “shit me too,” he groaned, “can we cum daddy?” David asked.

Dwayne moaned, “yes baby, go ahead.”

Your orgasm washed over you as David came down your throat.

Dwayne thrust into you once more triggering his own orgasm and filling you completely.

David pulled himself from your mouth gently and collapsed on the bed.

Dwayne pulled out as well and placed you in his lap. He kissed your neck and held you tightly against his chest.

He stroked David’s hair with the hand not wrapped around your waist.

Dwayne nibbled your earlobe, “did you have fun?” he asked.

You smiled, “of course, as always.”

David propped himself up on his elbows, “I’m sorry I yelled in front of you baby, I was too harsh with Paul and I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You leaned over to kiss his cheek before Dwayne pulled you back into his arms, “it’s ok,” you assured him, “I know you just did it because you were worried about me and I know you won’t do it again.”

David smiled, “thank you baby.”

“I love you, all of you,” you promised them.

Dwayne tightened his embrace, “we love you too.” he replied as he peppered soft kisses all along your neck and shoulder.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Taglist❤️:

@misslavenderlady @pixielostboy @ghoulgeousimmaculate @6lostgirl6 @solobagginses @anna1306 @its-freaking-bats @riz-coolgirl @feardot-com @warrior-616 @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @flower-crowned-lady @bloodywickedvamp @dwaynesluscioushair @dwayxluvs @consuming-karma @vampirefilmlover @lostboys1987girl @cherryfrostbites

#the lost boys #lost boys #lost boys fic #the lost boys fic #the lost boys smut #lost boys smut #the lost boys 1987 #Dwayne #Dwayne lost boys #David lost boys #gn reader #gn reader smut #dwayne x reader x David #tlb #dwayne tlb #David tlb #vampires #vampire #vampire smut #poly lost boys

[wonlouvre]

four: awakening

pairing: doctor!mingyu x potter!female reader

genre: fluff, angst, mature 18+

word count: 3.6k+

WARNINGS: age gap (mingyu is 34 while oc is 27), mentions of food & eating, smut (nothing descriptive though), marriage and meeting the parents kind of talk (let me know what i missed please!)

💌: finally, part four. i sincerely apologize for the long wait. a lot has happened over the months that passed, but we are finally here. thank you for patiently waiting. please be mindful that their relationship has taken a leap on this part. i will probably write one more part, then an epilogue. we’re nearing the end :( please enjoy this part and tell me what you think about it! <3

—

You keep thinking about it. The last conversation you had with Mingyu, that is. You know he means well and he’s nothing but a sweetheart about it. He’s not necessarily putting any pressure on your shoulders to give him an answer immediately. But, in the past five months you have known your boyfriend, you know he’s going to want to move forward. Level up. And that’s a really good thing. In fact, you want the same thing. It’s just… you’re not yet ready. 

“What were you going to tell me again?” Seokmin asks, mindlessly flipping through the binder of artists that’s going to participate in one of his upcoming exhibits. 

You swallow the lump at the back of your throat and slowly release a breath. Your eyes look up from the floor and your lips finally answer, “Mingyu wants to introduce me to his parents.”

Seokmin’s hands pauses and by the way his lips purses, you know you got him thinking as well. He closes the thick binder, propping his elbows on top as he clasps his hands together. 

“He did?” He asks, needing some confirmation as if it would do any help. 

Well, Mingyu did not exactly say so, but it was along the lines of, “He said, “My mom would love you.””

“Oh,” Seokmin utters, cheeks blowing like a puffer fish as he nods. “Is there something wrong about that?”

You bite your lip and sigh, defeated. “Nothing at all.” 

“But, there’s something to be afraid of, I guess?” 

Bingo. 

“Y/N,” your friend calls for you and you’re quite aware of what he’s about to say next. “Introducing you to his parents doesn’t immediately translate to getting married in an instant.”

You frustratingly nod. You don’t disagree with him. But, what if you want to marry Mingyu? Isn’t introducing yourself to the rest of his family part of that? And now that your boyfriend seems to be giving you the signs that he wants what you want, why are you afraid? Why are you suddenly stuck and reluctant to move forward just like he does? 

You hear Seokmin finally stand from his desk and make a beeline to where you’re sitting. He exhales a breath as he pinches the bridge of his nose. You’re grateful for him trying to help you in the kindest way possible because he knows what you’ve been through. But at the same time, you’re dreading his next words because no matter how harsh nor kind it will sound, he’s always right.

“Talk to Mingyu,” he says, his tone final.

Your heart beats a hundred times faster at what he just said. 

Seokmin nods firmly as he sees the conflict in your eyes. The conflict in your eyes screaming about the hows and whats. The conflict in your eyes that’s fearing for the worst of them all. The conflict in your eyes that’s begging to not go through the same heartbreak all over again. The conflict in your eyes that’s protecting Mingyu’s heart.

Talk to Mingyu. 

—

Mingyu is simply the happiest man to be with you. Scratch that, he’s simply the happiest man to have met you. Maybe it’s what every person would say if they finally meet the one that they’re more than content with. Or maybe, it’s just him. He really doesn’t know.

That being said, he also just wants things to be simple with you. He trusts that you’re committed to the relationship you have with him. After all, you were the one brave enough to ask him to be his boyfriend. That’s why he’s also brave enough to mention, little by little, his intentions on introducing you to his family that he believes without a doubt would love you. 

It started when he went to your shop after his shift to pick you up. It became a routine for him whenever his schedule is free and even though you have insisted that you could manage to go home by yourself, the stubborn yet caring person in him disagreed. 

You were doing some last minute cleaning as he waited for you to finish. He obediently sat at the counter and just watched you fondly, eyes following your every single move. It wasn’t a moment of realization. It was a gradual thought that smoothly slid inside not only in his head, but in his heart as well. 

Mingyu wants to marry you. 

“My mom would love you.”

He said it, convinced that it’s the best way to start the conversation. To take the first step. Interrupting your quiet hums and busy hands. He said it and you stood up straight, eyes confusedly blinking, lips awkwardly smiling. 

And, he’s regretting it now because your reaction seems indifferent. 

“You two,” Seokmin grimaces as he sees his friend upon his entrance to the quiet coffee shop. “What am I? A friend that’s stuck between a couple that can’t seem to figure their shit out.”

“Hey!” Mingyu whisper shouts. “Who said we can’t figure our shit out?”

Seokmin rolls his eyes and sits on the vacant chair on the other side of the table. He doesn’t go to hospital coffee shops often, not that he has reasons to thankfully. But he must say, it’s fairly cozy. None of that though, he’s here to visit and help his friend who looks like he hasn’t showered or slept for two days. 

“You know what,” Seokmin says, “You’re the one who looks like shit.”

Mingyu almost decks his friend. 

“Alright, alright, geez.” Seokmin raises his hand, finally ready to take his friend’s dilemma seriously. 

“Has Y/N spoken to you yet?” Mingyu asks.

“She has and I won’t tell you anything about it.”

Mingyu groans, but he understands. It’s not like you’re not talking to him. In fact, nothing has really drastically changed in your relationship. You’re not saying anything about it, but he just knows that he put you in an uncomfortable position and he wants to fix it. 

“Don’t worry about it Mingyu,” Seokmin assures him. “Y/N will talk to you about it sooner than you think.”

Mingyu nods, understanding what he’s trying to say. “I just can’t lose her ‘Min.”

“I know and trust me, she doesn’t wanna lose you too.”

Mingyu badly needs to talk to you. 

—

Mingyu finds you sitting in front of your pottery wheel and he’s going to sound annoying, but you honestly take his breath away. Looking so gorgeous in his eyes despite the sweat trickling down your forehead and hair loosely tied to not get in the way. And when you pause what you’re doing to check who has arrived, he swears he could rip his heart out just to give it to you because of how bright your eyes shine upon seeing him. He’s smiling as he drapes his coat on the counter before rolling his sleeves up. 

Meanwhile, your clay stained hands hang in the air as you wait for him to come closer. He does immediately, though and that makes you smile just like him. You stand on your tippy toes to give his lips a sweet peck, a welcome of some sort. 

It’s only a brief yet sweet gesture and Mingyu already feels like he can take on the world.

“I could kiss you longer, but I’m in the middle of something,” you joke, making your boyfriend giggle. His nose nudges against yours, his lips giving yours another smooch. 

You sit back down in front of the wheel without noticing your boyfriend already rolling his sleeves further up to his forearms, getting ready to join you even without the invitation. As you continue what you’re doing, Mingyu is already taking the small stool behind you to sit on. 

“Maybe you should go first–” Your sentence goes unfinished, gasping in surprise at the sudden warmth engulfing your whole body. Mingyu’s lean arms wrap themselves around your waist while his thighs, which are as lean as his arms, settle on each side of yours. 

“Hmm?” He nonchalantly hums, nuzzling his nose on the crook of your neck. “You were saying?”

Your hands remain frozen as your heart pumps blood so fast, you’re sure your face is not the only part of your body that’s warm. 

“Babe?”

You’re not that strong, you realize. 

You take a deep breath and press on the wheel again, acting like you weren’t just about to melt into a puddle. “I was saying, maybe you should go home first. It might take a long time to finish this vase.”

Mingyu audibly whines, you can feel his lips against your skin. “I want to stay with you.”

“What’s gotten you so clingy today?” You tease, leaning slightly back to him, your back meeting his chest. 

“Nothing. Just really want to spend time with you,” he replies, bashful yet honest.

You have thought about it. The last conversation you had with Mingyu about meeting his parents. Again, he didn’t exactly say he wanted to introduce you to them. But, you’re more than aware of how your boyfriend became extra careful around you as if he committed a grave crime after that and you want to ease his mind from worries because he doesn’t deserve to feel insecure about anything at all. 

You have thought about it and, “Then, be useful and help me out with this vase.”

“What?” Mingyu asks, tone so lost and confused. 

Your smile is small and nervous as you continue talking. 

“What design do you think your mother would prefer? Flowers? Animals?”

Mingyu’s arms tenses, but doesn’t let go of you. When he doesn’t answer, he hears you continue still.

“How about colors? White would be good, right? Or would a pop of color be better?”

“Y/N,” Mingyu calls for your attention, voice suddenly stern. 

“Hmm?” Now it’s your turn to hum, bravely tilting your head to the left to meet his eyes. “What do you think?”

Mingyu knows you’re not one to play around his feelings, you having a hatred against such. But, he can’t help but wonder if you’re being serious with him right now because he swears he could go down on one knee and ask your hand for marriage with what you have been saying. 

“Are you saying you want to meet my mom?” Mingyu finally asks, his eyes lovingly gazing on yours. “How about my dad?”

You pause to think, biting your lip along the process. “I could ask Seokmin to find me a painting. You’ve mentioned your dad has a small collection, right?”

Mingyu smiles and leans closer to kiss your lips, but pulls away all too quickly. “I need an answer, babe.”

You smile back and kiss his lips as well. “I’d love to meet your parents, Mingyu.”

“Okay.” Mingyu nods once before kissing you again and this time, he takes it slow. 

He’s aware your neck is craned uncomfortably that’s why he carefully maneuvers your body to face his properly. Although you're still sitting on your stool, his arm is now cradling your back while his free hand caresses your cheek as he kisses you deeply. 

“Mingyu.” You try to pull away, but he’s relentless. “Let me wash up so we could go.”

Again, he’s relentless. Kissing and kissing you, rendering you breathless. You let him be, wrapping your arms around his neck but at the same time making sure you don’t let your hands wander anywhere else on his skin.

Your kisses become fervent under the dim light of the store and it doesn’t fail to cross your mind what if someone suddenly enters. Your store is yet to be closed after all. But, Mingyu’s teeth nipping on your bottom lip hypnotizes you, eliciting a whimper from you. 

Mingyu is no different, groaning at your moans and whines. It’s impossible for his body to not overheat, like it’s about to burst into flames.

“Mingyu,” you call again, leaning back. 

Your boyfriend whines and dives once again. But you move further back. That doesn’t stop him though, trailing kisses from your cheeks to your jawline down to your neck instead. It’s not helping that you can’t touch your boyfriend because of the drying clay on your hands. 

“Okay. I really need to wash up now.”

Mingyu pouts, but stops nonetheless. “Fine. But, be quick.”

You kiss the mole on his nose and nod. “Promise.”

—

The first time you stepped foot inside Mingyu’s apartment, you immediately told him that his taste is sexy. You actually blurted it out, but you needed to keep your dignity intact so you’re going to lie that you described it in a sophisticated manner. But, back to his apartment. He just chuckled embarrassingly at your words, touring you around and telling you the how abouts. 

This time around, nothing is different. You have been to his apartment countless times before, but rarely stayed over. It’s still sexy. He’s still sexy. You can’t help but ogle at him as he places your takeout dinner on the dining table and removes his coat to drape on the chair. 

It’s pretty late in the night and you hate yourself for having an impression that you will sleep over. It’s not that you don’t want to sleep with him. Mingyu’s mattress is the best mattress you have ever slept on. It didn’t take you a while to fall into deep slumber the first time you laid on it. Plus, it’s no secret your boyfriend’s arms are the warmest blanket.

It’s just that there’s something in you, something searingly hot and tense, that makes you believe you’ll do more than sleep tonight.  

“Babe?” Mingyu calls for you and you're snapped out of your trance. “Are you okay?”

You blink away your thoughts and nod. “Yeah. Just… I’m going to wash my hands first then I’ll join you.”

Mingyu smiles, proud that you already know the drill. If he knew what you’re going through at the moment, you think you’ll combust. But, if you only knew what he's going through, it would be a whole different story. 

You’re not the only one with the heart racing and whole body heating up. Mingyu thinks he’s about to lose his mind over the events that occurred at your store earlier. He knows he’s exaggerating when all you said was you wanted to meet his parents. Well, you kissed so that’s an added factor. But, the two of you always kiss! What’s so special about tonight that’s making him all anxious yet excited at the same time?

You return not more than five minutes later and you find Mingyu opening a bottle of wine. He even looks good by just doing such a simple act with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, a few buttons of his loose. You’re most definitely gone.

You pinch your hip to wake yourself up. Now is really not the time to be hot and bothered. 

“Wine together with tteokbokki and fried chicken?” You ask, finally taking a seat. “Interesting.”

Your boyfriend playfully shrugs his shoulders, pouring you a glass before planting a kiss on the crown of your head. He takes the chair beside you, hands busy opening the containers one by one. 

Dinner is served and the two of you become preoccupied on making sure both of you are eating enough, mindlessly putting food on each other’s plates as you chat. Finally, the tension, although still lingering, relaxes a little. 

“Hey.” Mingyu tugs at your chair, pulling you closer to his side. “About our conversation earlier. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to. I can wait, I promise.”

Your lips grow into a smile and you’re suddenly feeling warm all over again. You place your glass back on the table before gently holding his cheeks with your hands, chin tilting up to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips. 

“It’s nothing like that,” you assure him, thumb rubbing soft circles on his cheekbone. “It’s not like I’m introducing myself to them tomorrow. I just wanted you to know that I’m more than happy to meet them someday or… I don’t know. Soon?”

“Okay,” that’s all Mingyu says with an enthralled smile before leaning closer to your face, lips sealing yours with his. Your eyes close in bliss, basking in the feeling you’re sure only Mingyu can ever make you feel. You have figured it out, it’s just that you don’t want to go ahead of yourself.

You’re hoping Mingyu is feeling it too.

You return Mingyu’s kisses softly, but your boyfriend is eager. His kisses grow passionate, almost knocking your chair down with his body wishing to be closer and closer. You gasp, hands pushing at his firm chest to pull away. He’s as surprised as you are, you can’t help but giggle. 

“There’s sauce all over your lips,” you point out, wiping his lips with your thumb. 

What he does next is beyond your imagination. 

Mingyu holds your wrist, preventing you from having your hand back. You look at him confusedly. But when you catch the different glint of his eyes, you’re hypnotized. Once he senses you relax, he kisses your thumb. You swallow the lump at the back of your throat. You’re afraid you just liked what he did. 

Mingyu doesn’t engulf your thumb with his mouth, but his kisses, at least thrice, drops a heated sensation down to your body. 

“Stay over tonight?”

It scares you how quickly you say yes.

–

Mingyu makes you feel small from time to time. You don’t mean this in a bad way, you promise. It’s just that, sometimes, when he gives you all of his attention, you grow bashful. It makes you wonder about what’s so special that he sees in you that he never fails to maintain eye contact, regardless of what you’re doing. 

And tonight, right at this moment, he’s making you feel small over again with added warmth. You swear, your heart has never beat so fast. You keep on swallowing the invisible lump at the back of your throat as you try your best to scoot up on his bed. You're sure your palms are already sweating and it’s not helping that you’re still looking up to Mingyu’s eyes as he joins you. 

Mingyu’s huge hand smooths over from your knee to your thigh, making your breath hitch. He gives you a small smile, kissing your cheek lovingly. 

“We can just go to sleep. I don’t mind,” he says and that catches you in a state of panic. 

“No,” you immediately say. I want this. 

Your boyfriend tried to hold it, but you can see the smirk forming on his lips. “Will you tell me what you want then?”

“I–...” You barely utter, word failing to come out of your mouth. You bite your bottom lip and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. When you open them again, you see the patience evident on Mingyu’s face and that’s more than enough to give you the courage to say what you want. 

“Can you… can you take this off?” You whisper, toying with the collar of his long sleeves. “Please?”

Mingyu chuckles and you almost call him out on it, but he beats your open mouth from saying anything further by kissing you. 

You and Mingyu have had your fair share of intimate moments over the course of your relationship. Hot make out sessions that last who knows how long. Soft touches that are not slow to turn into something heavy, leaving the two of you a hot mess. They are all deeds not out of the ordinary for the two of you. 

Sex, however, is something that the two of you almost touched on. If it wasn’t for Mingyu’s emergency calls or Seokmin cockblocking the two of you, you two would have been far off right now. 

But, that’s the thing. You are here right now on Mingyu’s bed. Mingyu is also here with you right now, lean and strong arms holding his upper body up to not crush yours as he continues kissing you passionately. 

You didn’t even notice his long sleeves getting discarded, left to be on the floor. 

You’re panting when Mingyu pulls away briefly to make you sit up. Embarrassingly enough, your mouth waters at the sight of his toned chest and abdomen, your fingers tracing over them. 

Mingyu smiles, holding your cheeks to gently make you look at him and answer his question. “Can I take this off?”

He’s referring to your blouse and well, if he’s already without a top on, you might as well take yours off. After all, you do want this. 

You nod and that has Mingyu shaking his head. Your eyebrows furrow, knowing what he wants. 

“Take them off, please.”

“Good girl,” Mingyu praises, hands quick to their job. Your pupils blow instantly and before you could react, he’s kissing you again. 

The long night continues without knowing the passing time. It wasn’t your concern if you have to wake up early tomorrow nor was it your boyfriend’s, lips making sure covering every inch of your body with his kisses (of course, with love bites here and there).

You’re no different anyway. Stopping him from taking your pants off and pleading him if you could make him feel good before he takes care of you. Who is Mingyu to deny you? 

Mingyu was a panting mess after you made him cum, but that didn’t stop him from pulling you up and smashing his lips against yours. From then on, he took matters into his own hands, leading you to pleasure that has you writhing all through the night. 

—

tags:

@jackiejackkk @lovelywoo  @hoe4wonwoo @boogyuu @kukiyu @lottogyu @multi-101 @tinastine @shujiloey @sweet-shiner @studywithtuna @shaffystyle @angelarin @unhaengiichi @gabii04 @lumierelavie @thecutiepieme  @nochujimbles @malix28 @happy-wonho @mariellechrysanthemum @fancypoisonapple @roh-ji @seokgyustudios @drama-1998-girl @kpopssuregi @kpop-stuff-only @laconic-abditory  @justasoftstan @boowanie @october-rain-love  @d-noona @gaebestie  @limkiwi @versacewoo @grannysdirtbag @sadcrescentmoon @cutieedeer @viv-i-a-n @walkedinafragileline @aceloveslove @maknaecooky97 @glazedpopcorn @rawrmameh @bythe8 @ohchangyu @tinastine @loeywoo​ @strikingbluexyz  @cloudysannie​  @graykageyama​  @skywoozi​  @sokooks​  @1uv1ygyu​  @kyeomsgcf​  @jeonjona  @mbbmonsta  @scoupsnotscoops​  @ihatethisblog1​  @taestrwbrry  @moonlightgodes​  @wooedbywonu​  @mingyvie​  @wonwoosecretcat​  @l3liy  @perplexinggg @swinterr​ @habitsofheaven  @jaehyuns-peaches  @tsukiiism​ @feliceline  @justadreamingirl28​  @rocketqueenbabyy​  @sailorjoonies  @yunohyun​ @yzekim @shush15  @sweetheartcsc ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​

@kimnorang @soonchanshua @sunnosmoon @hvcdrms @jungkookislegal @sashamifasolla @flwrsol @justnatys @needmoresleep @vixxieroxx @fairydosii @gyuromiis @simplymeer @gyusi @naegasuhosh @notsushitrashbutwonutrash @bluemoontel  @lalalaylaylay @caiihyu  @xmisskwonsoonyoung  @ourstarrywonder @jenodaze  @dowoonwoodealer @everyw0nu @lucidhao @maltagoyaluvr @happyriel @gointothesky @miuangl @vasayyy @smilejimvn @chanpvlento @ayaxsstuff @flowerofanhours @doublejeon @lovelybluemoonlight @artsenthusastk77 ​ ​​ ​ @distinguishedpeanutspy ​@inyourdreamsmaybe ​​ @mememuri @wonufication @gojosd @dktwin ​ @mswenjun ​ @min9yuldaengie @amariroses @synqras @this-cool-chick @everhyuck ​ @zootopiasthings ​ @urfavmommy ​@sunflwrhyuk @bokutosabyowll @degreenandfangirling @danielcastellon @biancaness @kyunlov ​@blueevelvt  @briarrrose28 ​ @dumbmidnightthoughts  @yukkaa @r3zgirl @juye6n @pastel-andme ​

please do tell me if you’re not listed here! (some urls don’t get tagged and i really don’t know why :( sorry!)

#seventeen #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen scenarios #mingyu scenarios #seventeen scenario #mingyu scenario #seventeen imagines #mingyu imagines #seventeen imagine #mingyu imagine #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fanfic #seventeen smut #mingyu smut #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x you #mingyu x you #svt x you #fic: starry-eyes

[sytokun]

Introducing my super cool RWBY rewrite that is definitely better than literally anything

Hey guys, this is my RWBY fanfiction universe. All ideas are mine, I just think... I dunno, RWBY kinda sucks so I'm making my own, better version. I'll call it... RWBY: Rescued or some other vaguely pretentious title, idk. Hey, John and Jane RWBYson! Thanks for subscribing to my project! Or anonymously stalking it? It's hard to tell sometimes.

Now I know I already introduced Team RWBY, and everyone loves them, I'm happy! I'm just gonna add a little dude here, no it's fine! He's like a side character, nothing more. Like an ally, Ruby's first friend, he leads the other team, it'll be really cool I promise. His name is Jaune btw, no, NO big deal. Just trust me on this. I'm the superior writer, remember?

...

Um... sorry guys. Over the weekend I just got a really big spark of inspiration, like... the Muses struck me from the heavens above. So I'm sorry, but... I'm going to make a quarter of the first Volume entirely focused on Jaune, the Volume that is crucially formative to the cast and entire series, which will cause a ripple effect so bad that a consistently large number of fans dislike him in my series 10 years later, but also find it hard to imagine the story without him at this point, like a lukewarm relationship you don't know how to feel about.

But it's fine! The show is still called RWBY and I plan to deliver on that, not like those hacks at Rooster Teeth stepping on Monty's vision. That's the rhetoric I'm supposed to use, right? To make you hate me? To make me into an easy strawman to hate and dismiss? GOT IT, just making sure, lol

I'm going to voice act as him too, btw. No big deal, I'm sure this won't affect my treatment of him whatsoever. Oh, but here's Neptune. He's voiced by the other dude writing this, and we're gonna write a love triangle between the characters we voice and Weiss, one of the main leads. That counts as a character arc for her, right? Right, glad you understand. Oh, Neptune? You actually liked him and wanted him around? What are you, fucking sexist? God. Make sure to tell your friends how cool my story is

Next, I'm going to have Pyrrha's entire screentime devoted around Jaune, and even after she dies, only Jaune is allowed to process his emotions regarding her death while Ren, an Asian dude, and Nora, another girl, prop him up. I'm also going to bring her death up every two years like 2-3 times to really milk that man pain. What does Ruby the main character feel about this? Oh don't worry, she'll talk about it with another character I'll add in. I'll even have her say Keep Moving Forward™ to really sell the audience's Ruby's pain and really stoke and stir your anguish. Her anguish. Moving on.

Eh, something feels off, there's not enough conflict... Let's have Cinder run Weiss through with a spear, for funsies ig, because I have this post-it note on my monitor saying Jaune's Semblance and this is the perfect moment. I'm also gonna give Jaune this whole ass emotional outburst, 1-on-1 fight and confrontation with Cinder since she killed Pyrrha and awakened all his angst.

Ruby? Uh... yeah, she can stand there I guess. I need to remind the goddamn audience that YES, I still remember silver eyes exist, gawd. I have to do it every few Volumes or I can sometimes forget the protagonist in my female-led story exists - man what a pain, I bet I'm gonna be pressured into creating an old lady to teach her or some shit in the Volume right after this one. Whatever, I'll have her disappear in 2 years, they'll never know she left. Anyway OOPS Emerald knocked Ruby out, thank god she's out of the way so I can squeeze in a shot of Cinder stepping on Jaune and really rub that pain in. God, Jaune really needed this, so glad I did that

Fuck it, Jaune kills Penny too. I dunno, it just feels right, y'know? Nah... I don't think Ruby or anyone is the right person for this, and I don't think we've really, one hundred percent explored just how deeply Jaune can angst over dead women; women who could have grown into full, complex people with rich arcs and relationships using all the screentime I parasitically extracted from them via sudden, unwarranted death. Penny, like, she really needs to fuckin' die for this. Her death is worth having to retread this same tired fucking emotional arc if it's for my boy, know what I'm sayin'? Good, glad you understand

Alright, it's the Volume finale. Team RWBY and Neo are falling into the next story arc. Great, people really wanted this - an entire Volume just focused on the title characters together. The fans have been on my ass asking for this since Volume fucking Four. It's alright, I GOT THIS. I FUCKING GOT THIS! It's simple! This is perfect. But... I mean, I shouldn't... but I really... SDGDSGDED FUCK IT, fuck you, Jaune falls in with them too

John and Jane RWBYson: "God, this is why I hate rewriters who think they can write a good story with RWBY. They love making white men the focus of their self insert fantasies while shoving female characters into the fridge and off to the side, all while using Monty's name to rile people into brainlessly supporting it. I hope they fucking disappear"

Wait. John. Jane. Did I say my RWBY fanfiction universe?

Oh. Oh god.

#rwby #rwde #rwby rewrite #jaune arc

[imanes]

Dear Imane, hi! I would like to ask how you stay afloat in times of stress? I was invited to be a part of a research team in (redacted) late last year and we’ll be here until October this year. What started out as a dream job is now… well… the stakes are higher, there is little to no room for errors bc things can’t be easily fixed as we go further into the project. I am also stationed with two other nationalities we have nothing much in common but it’s my only form of socialisation for now bc we are located in (redacted) where only planes come like twice a week for supplies. Now I know all I have to do is hang on til October and I’m not a girl who breaks easy, but this is taking YEARS off my life. Constantly worrying about something going wrong and not so much other forms of recreation bc of where we are situated. Girl HELP 😫

hi angel! first off i'm so sorry you're experiencing so much stress at the moment :( this sounds like a really extreme situation like complete isolation for months at a time... i have a lot of admiration for your strength!!

i can't tell you what i do to relieve stress in my normal life bc the difference of context is too wide but if i were in your shoes i'd definitely rely on alternate modes of communication, i.e., talk to friends and family and just people in general online. like it might seem out of pocket but to channel some of that stress i feel like i'd try to learn chess in order to set my mind on something completely different and rather consuming brain-power wise (the learning of a new skill) and play online with other beginners. it doesn't have to be chess it can be digital painting, writing, ... something that makes sense to you and that takes your mind off of how much pressure you are under due to the nature of your project. i don't know how stable or sporadic your access to internet is but make the most of it as a communication tool!

there are also live reading sprints on youtube all the time, like you can read a book collectively (not the book itself but the time spent) and then have 15 min breaks to talk to one another in the chat. when I'm under a lot of stress and i don't have the intellectual capacity to actually read a story i usually turn to mangas and webtoons. check out what's popular on mangadex and give it a try! the perfect distraction for brain-fried people

another thing i'd do is HIIT training or something intense like that (basically not yoga) like whatever i have bad knees but i need the post-workout boost of endorphins MORE

and honestly when it gets stressful you can treat my inbox as your brain dump! i won't publish the messages if you don't want an answer but if you need to talk shit about your coworkers and detail the ways in which you're losing years of your life know that I'll read your messages and that basically there's another person who cares on the other side of the line

you got this!! do check in regardless of whether or not you actually want to talk to me ajdlfg I'm invested in your continuous well-being now. and sorry for the lousy answers honestly i wouldn't know how to cope under your circumstances either so props to you

[dracolichbitch]

Wip Not-Wednesday or as i like to call it, Friday

Just a tad late to the show as i had towork wednesday night, but thats just how them cookies crumble some time!

Tagging @illumiera @kettlequills @bunniletto @lucien-lachance and @arnaerr doesn't have to be writing and of course no pressure!

enjoy the dark brotherhood shenanigans!

It wasn’t hard to find them though as her enchanted eye easily picked up on Babette further in the sanctuary. The vibrant blue glow of her undead soul was visible even through the stone walls of the sanctuary, and it wasn’t difficult to follow the light of her soul to her, and she found her in the sanctuary’s dining hall with both Lyra and Nazir.

“I don’t suppose you’ll be treating me to dinner as well, are you?” She joked as she stole the empty seat next to her sister and propped her chin on her hand, leaning against the table on her elbow.

Nazir scoffed quietly from behind his cup, but the cup wasn’t big enough to hide the ghost of a smirk lurking on his lips.

“You’re more than welcome to have a plate, if you so desire, but I think it’s only fair to warn you that Festus is in charge of cooking dinner tonight.”

Jura immediately blanched at the news. Memories of Festus’ cooking back when he was still with the College came to mind and her stomach turned at the thought. “In that case, never mind. I’m not all that hungry.”

A sharp pain spread through the back of her head as something hard and heavy collided with it, and she couldn’t help the little yelp that slip past her lips.

“You insufferable little ingrate! My cooking is the pinnacle point of destruction magic combined with alchemy!” Festus loomed behind her, staff in hand, and he looked none too pleased to have overheard them. “It is fit to be served to kings and gods alike!”

Jura peered up at him with a devilish little grin before shaking her head. “Sure, you could say that…” She agreed with a snicker, adding on, “assuming you were trying to kill them that is.”

Festus glared down at her and he raised his staff, presumably to whack her upside the head with it again, but he stopped when Astrid appeared from the shadows and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Now now, dear friend. I know its tempting, but don’t go bludgeoning your old apprentice to death. If you did that, we’d lose our only contact at the College.”

Festus huffed before lowering his staff again.

“You’re getting off easy this time, pup.”

Jura snickered as she watched him toddle off, presumably to go set something small and furry on fire to quell his irritation.

“He hasn’t changed at all, has he?” She asked, accepting the cup of tea Babette handed to her.

Nazir opened a packet of some powder and poured it into his own cup before stirring it slowly. “Not in the time that I’ve known him. I’ve never seen anyone get under his skin even half as easily as you do.”

Jura snickered again before taking a sip of the tea. She let out a soft sigh as the warmth from the drink flooded her and closed her eyes to take in the feeling. Even though she couldn’t quite pick up on what herbs were in the tea just from the taste, she could tell they had at least some medicinal effect.

“What can I say? Pissing people off is one of my strongest abilities.” She joked, setting the cup down.

“That and setting them on fire.” Lyra piped up, though her words were half muffled considering she was talking with her mouth full.

Jura grinned, but didn’t acknowledge those words.

“Anyway, as much as I’m sure you absolutely delight in the company of us cold blooded murderers,” Nazir began, resting his chin on his hand as he regarded Jura with a lazy look, “something tells me you didn’t trek out here in the rain just to drink tea and make fun of Festus’ cooking. What brings you by, Rhapsodos?”

“Yes, I would like to know that as well.” Astrid agreed as she took the seat next to Nazir, across from Jura.

Jura blinked slowly at the questioning, having genuinely forgotten why she even came by the sanctuary until they asked, distracted as she’d been from slogging through the mud and the rain.

“Well, now that you mention it, I wanted to ask Babette about something.”

Babette tilted her head at the mention of her name and glanced over at Jura. “And what would that be?”

“What do you know about the Volkihar clan?”

#wip wednesday #like smoke we rise like rain we fall #Oc: Jura Rhapsodos. #Oc: Lyra Rhapsodos

[nevermindirah]

For the ask game if you still wanna: ✅🍦and ✨

<3333

Eeeeeeeeeeeeee thank you friend!

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Politics. Even when I set out to write pure no-thoughts smut or fluff, it still makes its way into everything. And probably all kinds of little tells about my deepest hopes for a love of my own like what Nile and Booker could have.

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

Ice cream! And sweetness! My favorites!

I think I've got to award two co-winners of this one. My collab with @energievie, This ain't no never-neverland, hinges on a centerfold in a dirty mag but its vibes are so adorable and innocent and sweet and fluffy and friends-to-lovers-y. The juxtaposition just delights me and I love how quick and easy the Drama gets resolved and they add romance and sex to their best-friends-ship. And Those two? In what universe? aka my silly little 5+1 meet cutes fic was a bright spot in the back of my mind as I struggled with a bunch of different fandom and non-fandom things over the first half of this year. Both of these continue to deliver me dopamine hits now that they're finished and I get to have Siri read them to me as bedtime stories.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

Awwww thanks for the loving peer pressure! I spend a lot of time and energy trying to understand the different contexts that my characters are bringing to whatever plot/feelings/etc and I feel like that has often resulted in interesting and surprising and nuanced and honest things happening in the resulting fic. This is a priority for me specifically because of concrit a very kind person gave me over a decade ago on a mess of a fic where they helped me to see I was using a female character as a prop to advance two men's stories. I'm proud of the effort I've put into growing and changing as a result of that experience and it makes the feeling of accomplishment all the sweeter when my writing of a character's voice and choices ring true.

#fandom friends #dirah.txt

[dracwife]

oooh oooooooohhh u wanna write 5 or 6 for ncis man so bad ooooooh (this ask was sponsored by mcgee) (ALSO ZERO PRESSURE ILY /P)

i do i really do i so do 😔 (ILY2!!!! ty for the ask im kissing u on the mouth nohomo)

5. by the fireplace. & 6. a kiss at midnight.

"This would all go much faster if you helped, you know."

"Papercuts are not my friend. Besides, last time I tried you banned me from doing anything except holding the tape, remember?"

Mickey sits legs crossed on the ground, Tim laying next to him propped up on one hand, the other scratching just behind Dina's ear, who took her spot cuddled next to him on the den's floor.

And while Tim was distracting their dog, Mickey was wrapping gifts. His phone buzzed a few feet away.

"Check that for me?" Mickey leaned down; He didn't particularly care for the holidays, but wrapping was one of the few areas he took great pride in participating in; Every gift was wrapped with precision, every crease narrow and every corner perfect. It was that inner scientist that made him, he thinks.

"It's Abby," Tim's voice was low, on account of him doing his best to not wake the oversized puppy next to him, "She says she'll be over an hour early the day of to help finish setting up."

"Perfect. Tell her she's a lifesaver."

"...Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, it's a lot to put on a dinner for so many people. It could be just us, if you want, and --"

"Timmy, is that jealously I hear?"

"No -- No! Not...It's just, I know you don't care much for Christmas anyways," his voice trails off, he can feel his face burning with embarrassment, and he suddenly becomes very interested in the dark spots of fur on Dina's ears.

"You sure you don't want me all to yourself on Christmas morning?"

"I do, I just," Tim pauses, stutters, he realizes how what he's just said sounds, and swears if the light from that electric fireplace heater in Mickey's living room hadn't already casted a reddish glow across the room he fears what his boyfriend might have thought -- at the same time, he can hear Mickey's voice now, 'You're too cute when you blush,' in an all too familiar tone, considering the amount of times he's heard just that phrase alone before...

"Christmas is supposed to be spent with your family. And the team is my family."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"I know," Mickey slides the now wrapped gift towards the growing pile under the tree they've set up a few feet away. Something about it makes his heart beat a little faster, and a smile to grow across his face. He never had a Christmas like this to look forward to, one with the people he cared about, with the person he loved the most. He couldn't help but get excited, to go all out despite his many admittances in the previous years that he hated nothing more than the whole winter festivity season, "But it's our first Christmas together. Like, together together."

"I hope it's everything you want it to be."

Mickey looks over. He looks over at the way Tim's laid so comfortably next to him, even on the hardwood floor. The way he's so distracted by Dina, who's awake now and trying so desperately to catch Tim's hand as he ruffles her fur and grins. The way he still wears that blush that Mickey knows had his shoulders and chest as red as that poinsettia on the coffee table, and chuckles. Everything seemed to fall in place this year for him, for once he felt as if everything would be okay. Like it was worth the effort.

He moves a little closer, leans down and kisses Tim; He smiles into it for a second and breaks away only after he finds the words to say.

"I know it will be."

#this ask is sponsored by cringe ass naenae baby (me & my gay ass) #ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪs ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ | r. － t.m. #drabblecember #i did both. bc im deranged

[chiwhorei]

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝)

𝐚𝐤𝐚: 𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐑𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬!!

pairing: t. amajiki x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ mdni

word count: ~1.3k

tags: pervy!tamaki, mean!tamaki, dubcon, degradation, voyeurism, masturbation, tentacles in all of readers holes, dacryphilia, choking

a/n: this is my very late contribution to the whorehouse porn compilation, the rest of this questionable browser history can be found here! strap in because this might be the grossest shit i’ve written so far. no plot, porn is the point here friends.

(cross posted to Ao3!)

hymn: gooey by the glass animals

The first time was an accident, genuinely.

He meant to text you he would be home early, ever the courteous roommate, but it truly just slipped his mind. Surprise would be an understatement when he swings the front door open to the high pitched whines coming from your bedroom.

Curiosity piquing, Tamaki lines his shoes up by the door and follows the noise. He can see the outline of light seeping through your open door and hears another round of cries. 

“Hey, are you ok--” His words flop lifelessly on the floor in front of him. Oh.

Oh.

His eyes trail up from the end of your bed. The open laptop propped in between your legs, the bottle of lube sitting next to your knee, your bare thighs and--

“Do you like what you see, Suneater?”

Tamaki flushes, heat starting at the bridge of his nose and spreading across every inch of skin. He should really say something, or better yet, close your fucking door and do the rest of his processing on the other side. 

He can’t seem to do anything but stand and stare at the dripping wet toy still being pumping in and out of your cunt. It seems to have completely hypnotized him, watching the way the silicone disappears in between your slick folds, he swears he can see the quiver.

“What do you think about my toy?” Purple and oblong, you pull it all the way out. Tamaki’s stare burns right into the suction cup ridges and slim, curved tip. You drag it in a wet line up your skin, meeting your lips with a pout. 

“I picked this one out with you in mind.”

* * *

First time, shame on you.

That’s what they say, but Tamaki finds himself pressing against your doorframe and peering into your room for the 3rd time this week. His feet pull him here like a nasty habit, the crack in your door is far too welcoming. 

You left it open just for him.

Tamaki’s ears twitch, forehead tacky with sweat as he presses against the frame. Every time he finds himself in this very same position, shame trickles down his spine like poison.

Every inch of your skin is exposed to his stare. Looking upon you is invasive and slimy and wrong but fuck, with every movement of your toy, pumping in tandem with the hand around his painfully hard cock, the more each stolen glance feels intravenous. Tamaki is addicted. 

All he wants to do is touch you. Wrap you in his hold and explore every inch. He wants to know what your skin feels like. 

What does your hair smell like up close? He’s only ever been privy to the occasional carryover of strawberry as you walk by him in the kitchen. How do your moans feel vibrating just above his mouth? Would you cry out for him to stop or to keep going?

He’s never stepped closer than the line between carpet and hardwood, but that's really only a technicality. 

You feel it, foreign but unmistakable. The touch of something crawling up your leg, soft and sticky. It wraps around your leg, crawling upwards in salacious vines. Your voice rings in Tamaki’s ears. He repeats every syllable like prayer, his invitation.

“I picked this one out with you in mind.”

There’s no movement to stop him, you don’t scream or tell him to fuck off. Your body seems to welcome him, back arching as five quirked fingers wrap around your arms and hips. The popping of suction cups trail from your belly button, dragging against your breasts before you feel pressure at your neck. Your skin will be covered in round bruises in the morning. The kindling in Tamaki’s stomach feels more like a wildfire, shy demeanor melting away. The man in front of you isn’t going to waste any more time hesitating.  

“You’re such a little tease. You like fucking with me don’t you, princess?” Tamaki’s question is sneering, his tone cold and unfamiliar.

The tentacle wrapping around your neck squeezes tight enough to make you gasp, he doesn’t waste the opportunity.

He doesn’t really want you to answer him.

As soon as your lips part, your mouth is invaded. The tendril reaches all the way to the back of your throat before it lets up, your jaw already hurting at the stretch. Your vision blurs, the taste of briny-sweet flesh mixes with the salty tears running down your face.

You’re given only a moment to sputter, catching your breath before it’s taken away again, the squeals and cries bubbling in your throat are wasted energy.

“Always leaving your door open, teasing me. I’m not playing your games anymore.” Tamaki’s voice is unwavering, he’s serious.

You wail around the rubbery texture as another tentacle wraps around your breasts, suctioning on the sensitive peaks of your nipples. Tamaki moves closer with each sound he can pull from you, finally breaching the last shreds of privacy and shuffling across the carpet. All five fingers on his right hand are busy probing parts of your pliant body and restraining others. Through the haze you can’t deny how dexterous he is while making a mess of you. 

It would be impressive if you could think straight.

Each arm and leg is caught in the reddish-purple web, writhing against his hold only makes Tamaki’s grip tighter.

“I could do anything to this sweet little body, what could you do to stop me?” His words should scare you, but only one thing runs through your foggy head. 

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

If you could, the scream pressed against your makeshift gag would definitely alert your neighbors to the depravity just a wall away. You feel attention turning to the toy still plugging your weeping hole, a tentacle wrapping around the base and pulling it free with a squelch. From the corner of your eye, you catch the shiny plastic as it’s thrown to the other side of the room, hitting your wall with a hollow thud.

The tip of one tentacle prods at your clit for good measure before poking inside. Fear runs through your blood, cooling when mixed with overwhelming pleasure. Tamaki can reach places you’ve never felt before.

“So tight, so fucking warm.” Tamaki can feel you with each clench of your pussy, sliding in until he can feel tight band of your cervix. He could ruin you if he wanted, he ventures to guess you would let him.

You’re crying in long, fat streaks around the apples of your cheeks. With the help of another set of weaponized fingers, your legs are spread further and pushed to your chest. Tamaki’s cock aches, now ignored in favor of manipulating your body into a new angle so your ass is propped up. Muscles tense as he swipes the tip of his tentacle to trace around your rigid ring of muscle.

“I’ll take every one of these slutty little holes. You’ll feel me on your skin for days.” He promises you, pushing past your resistant muscles, they’re no match.

Your head is swimming now, logic is replaced with the feeling of being so full.

Stimulation assaults your senses from every direction, Tamaki fucking into your body with fatal rhythm. Going farther, deeper, harder. All you’re left with is shaking limbs and muted whines.

It hurts, it feels so good. It’s so disgusting but so hot. You’re meek, bushy roommate has made you little more than a fucktoy with what seems like minimal effort. You’re hurdled to a sloppy wet orgasm faster than ever before. 

Tamaki can tell that you’re close, studying the way your eyes screw up and brows furrow before falling over the edge for weeks from the comfort of your door jam. The consuming bliss overtakes your body, every muscle tensing, shaking from exhaustion as the cord pulls tight and snaps with fury. If you could, you would scream out the name of your captor, all you can manage a garbled sound from deep in your chest.

The next few moments find you in pieces. The feeling of emptiness knocks at your hypersensitive body as you’re flipped to balance weakly on your hands in knees. You’re not left alone for long, Tamaki’s just getting started.

He’s never been one to play with his food, but you’re just too tasty.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#tamaki smut #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: voyeurism #tw: tentacles #sin.dubcon #sin.voyeurism #sin.tentacles

[library-of-ohara]

@eustasssimp requested:

hi lovely beloved writing friends <3

if someone was feeling up for it could I please request some sfw Kid fluff? maybe just spending a day in together or dragging him out to explore whatever island you stopped at? some soft (whatever 'soft' is for kid) fluffy/date-y type of thing.

I would also be happy with Thatch or Smoker if people don't want to do Kid! thank you so much if someone decides to pick it up, but no pressure, thank you ily all so much.

Written by: Bee 🐝 @secretsnailor

Ah ha!!! I've been wanting to do a KiddxReader for a WHILE and I was happy to take this on! I hope I did the stinky man justice. 🙈❤

Kiddx GN!Reader / SFW  / 1.2k

Summary: You were bored so you decide to bother Kidd. Warnings: Lot's of cussing, mentions of having sex before.

Boredom tugged at you as you reclined against the railing of the Victoria Punk, feet propped up on one fish spine that curved over where you were laying at. The waves bobbed the ship slightly but not rough enough to make you slip.

Idly you watched the clouds drift by overhead. It was a calm day, boring in the mundanity. You were on a pirates’ crew for fucks sake! What did it take to get some entertainment around here?

A thought occurred to you. Humming, you straightened before hopping onto the deck.

“Time to see what Kidd is doing!” you announced to no one in particular. Killer snorted.

“He probably won’t want to be disturbed,” he informed you.

You shrugged. “Sucks for him,” you said before you strolled away whistling.

When you arrived at his door, you didn’t bother knocking, just burst in with a wide smile as the door crashed into the wall. “Oi, Kidd! Whatcha up too!?” you yelled.

“For FUCKS sake!” Kidd screamed out in rage as you slammed the door shut. “The fucks the matter with ya?! Get out!” He was seated at his workbench, a lamp on nearby casting light over the tabletop. Bits and pieces were scattered around, like always. It was such a mess. Kidd sat on a stool, lacking his normal feathered coat, instead he wore a loose-fitting tank top. He was trying to hide something, turning his back towards you as you approached.

“Aw, but babe,” you whined, “I’m bored!” The thing between the two of you was still rather new, a bit untested. Sure you’d been ‘together’ for a while, messing around and stuff. But it wasn’t until recently that you put your foot down and demanded a name. You wanted boundaries, rules, expectations. Kidd hadn’t been happy about it but it was either that or see you walk.

He’d chosen to have you stay.

“Go bother someone else, I’m busy.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, feeling the tension coiled within them as you looked down on his workbench.

“Is that the ship?”

Kidd grumbled before grabbing it to hold it up for you. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

“It’s cute!” you gushed. It was made out of metal, the familiar fish skull gaping at you. Various nuts and bolts made up the bones along with what you assumed were sheets of thin metal folded several times.

“It looks like shit,” he denied, frowning at the model. “Can’t get all the little details right, fuckin’ annoying.”

“I mean, I could tell what it was?” He snorted.

“If you didn’t, you’d be a real idiot huh? Not being able to recognize a fish skull.”

You pouted before rubbing your face into his hair. He tried to get away but your arms tightened around him. “Oi! Bug off, don’t mess up my hair you dick!”

“Hang out with me,” you pleaded. “I’m so boreddd. Ouch!” You released his shoulders waving out a hand. He’d pinched you. “What gives??”

Kidd turned in his chair to give you an unimpressed look. “Didn’t I say I’m busy? Go annoy someone else.”

Folding your arms, you frowned at him. “Kidd,” you said seriously. “We’ve talked about this.”

His face contorted into a sneer. “Talked about what? If I’m rememberin’ right, you agreed to let me fucking work.”

“We agreed,” you began firmly, “that I wouldn’t bother you when you were working, fine. But I still need to spend time with you, just you and me. We also discussed the difference between you actually working or just puttering. So are you working or puttering right now?”

Kidd growled, the red of his eyes glittering in the light of his room. The tension in the room increased as what felt like electricity traveled down your arms, raising the hair there. The metal bits on the desk started jittering, as Kidd stared you down.

You didn’t back down, keeping his gaze. The moment hung, a tightrope above a deadly drop before his body relaxed and everything stilled. “Fuck, fine.” He reached out for you and you took a quick step back.

“Ah, wait!” His face pinched with confusion and you pointed at his hands. “Wash those first.” His red nail polish was hardly visible from underneath the black that coated his hands. He rolled his eyes.

“So goddamn picky, I swear,” he complained as he stood and pushed past you into his private bathroom. You threw yourself on his bed with a pleased giggle.

Once he remerged you patted the bed next to you in invitation and he rolled his eyes before crawling up after you. “If you wanna fuck, you could have just said so.”

You sighed as you put a hand on his face, stopping him from ducking down to your neck, likely to spread lipstick and marks all over it. “No Kidd, I just want us to spend time together.”

He tsked loudly before collapsing beside you. “Sounds stupid.”

The you’re stupid was on the tip of your tongue but you didn’t want to get into yet another argument so you pushed on him until he was positioned on his back, while he growled at you for maneuvering him around.

Still, he quieted down when you rose up on your knees to crawl over his body before laying down on his chest with a pleased sigh. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds.

“Is this it?” he asked, breaking the quiet moment. “Cuz I’ve got better things to do than—”

“How’d you meet Killer?” you interrupted, running a hand over his stump, the touch nothing but gentle.

“Hah?” he replied, confusion and annoyance laced in the word.

You giggled under your breath before meeting his eyes. “The way you guys talk, it’s clear you’ve known each other for a long time. How’d it start? I’ve never heard the story.”

Red lips pursed together before his hand dug itself into your hair. “Not sure what’s so interestin’ about that, but sure.”

The afternoon passed like that, you asking questions and listening to Kidd talk about his past. After a bit, he got more comfortable and animated, his body relaxing as he waved his hand around to gesture with.

It was nice. Comfortable and sweet, you got to touch him as much as you wanted as he spoke. Usually Kidd would take your casual touches as an invitation for sex which you weren’t complaining about, but sometimes it would be nice to just be able to feel him without the expectation of anything else.

This was one of those rare moments, his deep raspy voice drifted over you as your lids started to droop.

“Oi, oi,” he said at some point, a hand shaking your shoulder. You mumbled sleepily. “Don’t fall asleep on me!”

“S’nice,” you slurred, rubbing your face against his chest. “You make a good bed.” Your world flipped as he turned, sending you tumbling onto the mattress and you groaned.

“Fuck you, use the bed then,” he said with a frown. Not deterred in the slightest you took the opportunity to cuddle into his front, forcing a leg between the two of his and clutching at his shirt.

“Tell me something else,” you mumbled. Kidd sighed before the barest press of something ran across your forehead (you had the sneakiest suspicion it might have left a stroke of red behind) before he started talking, his chest vibrating with the sound of it.

And if Killer came to the room hours later to call you both for dinner and instead found the two of you utterly entwined, fast asleep in each other’s arms? Well, he was nice enough not to mention it.

#bee writes #bee writing #ohara library request #kidd x reader #kid x reader #eustass kid #one piece x reader #one piece

[flashyfucker]

by the water, euphoria pt2 | sidney crosby ✷

PART ONE / MY MASTERLIST summary: you and sid are all tangled up. still, you grit your teeth and dance around it: you’re both determined to make the rest of the vacation worthwhile. well, you are. you think sid might just be out to ruin your life. sidney crosby x fem reader. word count: like 8.6k because i am a (say it with me) dumb sl*t !!! warnings: vague angst. mutual pining. smut and it’s proper this time. dom sid, obvi. maybe corruption kink. like, daddy kink but barely. sex in uhhh communal areas. sorry. alcohol. age gap (all 18+ always). btw jus gonna go head and say the teammate married to the sister is hmmm [spins wheel] letang, because finding different ways to write “your sister’s husband” is absolutely murdering me. ps thank you for reading and commenting and messaging and making me feel so welcome i could cry. i’m always keen to chat about writing stuff. let me know what you wanna see next! request/suggest/scream at me here xxxx

On your way down to the beach, Sid didn’t touch you. You suppose you hadn’t expected him to (paying little mind to how you wanted him to), but you had expected things to be a bit stilted, maybe, without any address given to the moment on the couch. 

Maybe it was worse, for you both, equally, that things weren’t stilted.

Maybe it was worse that you talked. You traded anecdotes and laughed until your sides ached. He wanted to hear about even the dumb things, stories of losing friends while travelling in faraway countries during your gap year and getting tipsy to go grocery shopping at midnight during your time in college.

It was definitely worse once you made it to the place where two rocky outcrops gave way to a tiny beach, more pebble than sand, where the water gleamed cobalt, and swirled rather than crashed. There, you learned how much you liked hearing the chronicles of Sid’s times in locker rooms and tunnels, and going home to see his family.

It felt like you’d lived three chaotic lives, comparatively, to his single, hockey-centric one, but his musings bought with them a sense of steadiness. Sure, he didn’t have tales of Italian rooftops (and questionable hostels) to match yours, but, on that same note, you didn’t have stories of finding a minuscule slice of heaven in an empty rink (nor your parents sacrificing their lifestyles for your dreams). 

Your circumstances had been wildly different from his, yet your experiences were inexplicably similar. A different breed of the same pressure burdened heavily on the backs of both of you since childhood. He, to be something great, and you, to do something great.

And, the one fact that effloresced from the shot-for-shot trading of your experiences was growing clear: sometimes, you both wished the world around you would just slow down.

Once your ribs stopped hurting, the sun low in the sky when the laughter died, your chest felt bruised, because, you were realising, you didn’t want to talk to Sid like this. Not after the thing on the couch, the way you’d asked him to see you like that, to take you like that and he did, so tenderly.

If you talked, and if you laughed, you couldn’t feign nonchalance at the dinner table, keep your family none the wiser. You couldn’t fake it was just a sex thing, or a power thing, and act as though his quirks weren’t rapidly growing endearing, as if you weren’t watching him open up to you in real-time. 

If you knew how his mom kept safe a dried-up bouquet of flowers for each of his individual achievements, you wouldn’t be able to go back to not knowing. 

Once he’d told you those things, you couldn’t lie, tell yourself you didn’t care.

And, if you were smarter or stronger, maybe, once the jig was up and the lie was a bygone, you’d have stopped all this whatever it is in its tracks. Save yourself some trouble later on.

“What’re you thinking?” Sid asked quietly, propping himself up to look at you for the first time since you’d both thrown your towels down and lain, lazily, side by side. The dark sunglasses resting atop his cheeks made it easier for you to stand up and swipe down the backs of your thighs. Made it easier to move away from him. 

“A whole lot of nothing.” The side of your mouth quirked up in what you hoped would be taken for a show of assurance. 

You haven’t done anything wrong, you wanted to say. I just can’t afford to catch feelings for someone I can’t have.

Sid followed suit, brushing the sand from his trunks before shedding his shirt. He stood on the shore for a second, the ocean lapped at his ankles, tide at a slow rise while you stood there, too, back to him, shoulders tense as your arms were crossed. 

“Can I touch you?”

And, like that, there you were, in his lap again. All his. And, if that was going to work without shredding your heart to mere ribbons, you decided, it would have to be exactly as it was. His hands on you, nothing more, and you, all his, only ever for that moment.

His breath fanned delicately over the nape of your neck, and your skin tingled, ears ringing. 

“Please.”

The way the word left your throat in a powerless whimper felt a little pathetic, but when the back of his hand ghosted a stripe along your spine, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You shivered despite the high sun’s warm bite, and the ocean’s coolness was felt all at once, soft peach fuzz prickling. 

With one hand settling on your hip, Sid’s hot, lax mouth fell to the crux between your shoulder and neck. Your shoulders softened with arousal imitating relief, arms falling to your sides.

His free hand came up to toy with the tie of your swimsuit at the curve of your back, a lone finger hooked underneath the string with no intention of removing it, but a reminder that he could. 

You pushed back into him, sighing when his tongue and teeth pressed against your neck with the clearest deliberation. 

And, if you’d felt how hard he was, Sid thought, you didn’t say anything.

His kiss was taken nearly as soon as it had been given, replaced gingerly with his forehead lulling against the back of your head, an arm draping itself around your body mindlessly. 

“You feel what you do to me, Baby?” He spoke low, broken with rasp.

Once again, he was here. Apologetic for that tightness in his trunks, and even more rueful now he’d put words to it, albeit in a sick, roundabout way. His face felt searing, and you sensed his trepidation. You could feel it in even the most diminutive shifts of his muscles. 

Your heart raced at it, brow furrowing. That all-too-familiar slipping feeling seeping in. Reaching for the forearm he’d lain across your ribs, you nudged it just a little lower, willing his big hand to the seam where your swimsuit bottoms met your skin.

“I love this, Sid. So much.” You stopped your voice there, lest the continuation you could’ve given discourage him. You could’ve told him, truthfully, how badly you needed him to take you. How, if he’d asked, you’d have gotten on your knees for him, right there. 

Moreover, you wanted to tell him that you hoped, desperately, that he was even half as into you as you were into him. 

(And maybe that tension in his shorts made you feel a bit more secure in those hopes, and a bit less like a charity case.)

Regardless of could’ves and wanted tos, Sid let your few words catch him, for they were all he’d needed to hear: 

whatever it was he felt, you didn’t mind. You’d grasp it, and you’d hold him in it. Maybe this whole thing was a favour, just a moment. But it belonged to both of you, now, equally.

He smiled, the burgeoning relief he felt teetering on overwhelming, and his hand splayed over your stomach, fingertips finally dipping underneath your bikini. 

“Anyone ever touched you here before?”

He hadn’t even cared about the answer, he thought. His goal, now, was nothing but to rile you up. Occupy your mind. After all, that objective was the genesis of this. And it was becoming nothing, really, if not a game the two of you were playing. 

Within these moments, were they to continue, Sid decided, it was his job to follow your lead: pull you out of yourself, safe at his side. And for now, all he wanted was to make you squirm.

You turned your head in hesitation, enough for your lips to find purchase below his jaw. His hand was static, not yet deep enough to feel where the wetness pooled. His thumb caressed your lower stomach, tiny strokes coaxing your answer forward.

“Don’t remind me about my ex right now,” You exhaled shakily, flustered smile against his skin wringing at his chest, just a little. “He never wanted to try it.”

Sid hadn’t cared about the answer at all, until the answer was no, not really.

“Fuck.” He spit, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple, mouth lingering there while his middle fingers skimmed over your clit, sending a jolt through you, relieving only an iota of pressure. The tiniest of moans broke in your throat as your brow furrowed, eyes crushing shut.

“’M gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 

Before you could process his words, the way your body pulsed at them before they’d fully washed through your head, Sid withdrew completely. You watched in awe as the man took a step around you, wading a little way into the ocean.

“You’re fucking cruel.” Words you’d meant to jest came from you more akin to a whine.

“M’ not fingerfucking you on a public beach. Much less when it’s your first time.” He explained sternly and logically, the way you’d imagine he’d explain something to a rookie teammate on the bench, something which felt unfair and frustrating. He paraded an undercurrent of experience and confidence which reassured you.

Still, it didn’t satiate the slick between your thighs.

“You fingerfucked my throat on a... public-like... couch.” You tried to quip as though it’d convince him, but Sid only laughed. You watched (stupidly, you felt) with your hands on your hips as he sunk back into the water, cupping his hands to splash it over his rosy face, card his fingers through his hair.

“Whatever. I’m going home.” You finally huffed childishly, turning for your towel and tote bag. 

You could nearly hear it on his face: the crooked smile, an unguarded moment.  

“Y/N. Swim with me?”

He sounded bright.

Cruelly, it only reminded you of how, sex removed from the equation, he and all his unguarded brightness couldn’t be yours. 

Your chest felt open. You slung your tote over one shoulder, nothing but your phone and a half-empty water bottle swaying inside. 

“That’s probably not a good idea.” 

You tried not to sound sad about it. Raised your voice a little and said it with a smile, so he could hear you over the shuffling of rocks and sand and relentless water enveloping him. Still, all your tries couldn’t prevent the way Sidney’s grin fell.

He knew why. He really did. Perhaps the age difference could’ve been negligible, unique circumstances considered, but your family couldn’t. Sid knew how proud Letang was to play the role of your big brother, he had been since the very day things got serious with your sister. You were the closest thing he had to a sibling, even before the wedding had put it to paper, and he’d always held you in that regard. 

Kris had never told his teammates not to fall in love with his brand-new baby sister, but, in all fairness, he hadn’t thought he’d needed to: that kind of a thing was a given. And he’d never once even considered he’d have to have that conversation with Sidney, of all the guys in the entire league.

Knowing why you bent down to pick up your still-dry towel did nothing to ease the hurt when you did.

“I’ll see you when you get home, Sid.”

You tried on that ill-fitting smile once more and hoped he could tell, somehow, how badly you wanted to stay as you left.

When he got home things were so normal it hurt, waltzing in a little after dark with his towel cloaking his hips and shirt slung over one shoulder. 

You were alone, living room lights turned down a fraction on the dimmer with an old Pens game playing loud on the TV. With a knee tucked up to your chest, you scrawled messily on the notepad taken from the kitchen fridge, typically reserved for scribbling takeout orders and neighbours’ phone numbers, a page now marked with questions and exclamation marks and a shoddily drawn diagram of a rink, right at the bottom.

“Hey,” You started, pausing your shorthand to turn down the volume when you heard the door swing open. “Kris has shrimp going on the grill.” 

Sid tried skimming over it, the shred of irony he found here, you tucked up on the couch like this, room glowing by the light of a game on the television while he stood, damp and salty. The floridity of your complexion told him it wasn’t lost on you, either.

“What’cha writing?” He asked on his way to the fridge. “If you don’t mind sharing.” 

You swallowed around your tongue, face hot. 

“Just a few things I don’t understand. I tried googling some of them but all the articles are written for, like, sports bros. So I was gonna ask Kris, or you, if you want to answer them, maybe,” 

So much for keeping it at his hands on you, nothing more. 

You wanted to scold yourself, roll your eyes at your own behaviour and just how tangled your feelings were becoming. You’d flicked the TV on when you’d arrived home, and a game queued up from earlier in the day played, and for probably a hundred reasons, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn it off. 

Sid couldn’t help it, the blushing like a high school freshman, the hand which came up under the delicate chain below his throat, fidgeting with its tiny links. 

“Of course I’ll answer them.” He said, soft-toned as ever.

You smiled at him, across the room, shuffling to find a glass in the cabinets, crease in his brow reading determination.

You liked him like this, you thought. He wasn’t an NHL superstar like this, half-dressed and still warmed by the sun under downlights, front office staff and media all so far away that they couldn’t touch him, no matter how badly they wanted to.

“The game’s not over yet, so I’ll hold you to that, later, when my list is done.” You breathed smoothly, put at ease by the coolness he was showing, like he’d entirely forgotten you’d been at the beach at all.

Mid-morning, at the kitchen island, you argued an absolute lost cause with Kris and Sid. 

“If they penalise it, players won’t slug the puck, like, halfway across the country just to kill time, basically. It means it’s not worth it for the players.” Your sister tossed down the magazine she’d been clutching in the living room and closed her eyes, exasperated by just listening to your determined vexing. 

“Jesus. Neither of you could’ve just said that ten minutes ago?” You stressed back at Kris and Sid with a roll of your eyes, a dramatic flick of your hands.

Maybe you were playing it up, and maybe you’d understood perfectly fine what icing was the first (or, like, the second) time they’d tried to explain it. But the fingers rubbing at Sid’s temples while he slumped over the counter were a bit like a reward. To have thrown him off his game (and turned a few grey hairs out of him) felt like some kind of comeuppance following the way he’d slighted you on the beach.

You were having too much fun to really hear the steady pull up of cars in the drive out front. Referring back to the notepad in your hand, about to open your mouth once more, your sister lifted a pointy finger at you across the room and warned, “Drop it, I swear to God,”, and you did, if only for her sanity, instead opting to watch her move towards the front door.

You sat in the kitchen, leathery barstool clammy on your thighs, as a patchwork of hockey players and their partners rolled in, Kris and Sid equally beaming at the surprise organised by your sister. The players represented a few teams scattered over the league, and catch-ups weren’t common at all, let alone ones without the looming pressure of a game or high-profile, highly-strung event. 

The piling in of people for the weekend felt nice. The walls would vibrate with the clamour and booming voices and laughter, and there were too many people for the number of bedrooms or patio chairs, but it felt like a surrogate family, strangers or not.

At the bottom of the stairwell, Sidney, ever the gracious leader, had traded away the comfort of his guest bed in exchange for the pull-out couch before anyone had even asked. 

You glared at the back of his head for that—  for bringing that insane idea to fruition, as your sister stared blankly at you in your peripheral, awaiting a similar foregoing of your bed to allow another of the couples some privacy during their weekend stay.

“My bed is so comfy,” You started, petulance grinding to a painful halt when you, once more, met the eye of your sister, who stood there with a harsh crease in her brow, head tilted in a way which put the intrinsic fear of your mother into you. 

You finished quickly: “Which is exactly why you should enjoy it, Nathan.”

If growing up with your family had taught you the mastery of one thing, it was faking one killer smile. Kris caught your eye, mouthing an endearing thank you alongside a smile more genuine than your own, which sweetened the deal a little. Partly because you liked Kris, but more than that, because you liked having Kris owe you favours, being that he was the only other person here well-versed in the language of your sister.

Once the newer guests had settled, drinks flowed in the yard (we can day drink, right?!, one of the ladies gleamed, already popping the prosecco). You stood at the kitchen counter before you joined them, mind mulling over nothing at all while you found rhythm in slicing lemons, content in listening to the muffled music and laughter chiming through from outside.

Sid, after moving the last of his luggage away to the office to allow one of the couples a little more space in the guest room, entered the open-plan living room. 

“Hey,” He begun, pulling your attention, quirking your brow over your shoulder. He had a feathery stack of bedding scooped up under one arm, and had started folding it over the arm of the sofa. He continued.

“Are you on birth control?”

You nearly choked. 

At the question itself, obviously, but moreover, the casualty with which he’d asked it, like there wasn’t a pack of people just past the glass doors which broke the patio from the living room. Like it wasn’t broad daylight, he wasn’t folding the eiderdown, and you weren’t minding your business, in an oversized tee, chopping fucking lemons, taken so very off-kilter by him.

You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide. He looked at you like he’d asked something weightless, waiting patiently for an answer. You didn’t respond for long enough that he felt the need for elaboration.

“We’re sharing a room now. Thought I’d be precautious.” 

He simpered, and the enthusiasm with which he’d offered away his guest room started to make some sense.

“Sharing the living room, Sid. I’ll take the little sofa.” Your voice occupied a strange midpoint between exasperated and trembling, and you returned to your chopping board while he began to pace for the door, his bed linen stacked neatly. His hand lingered on the iron door handle, sight flitting back over the expanse of space between the big, grey couch, and the little velvet loveseat you apparently intended on sleeping upon. 

You let your mind wander to the potential for the total breakdown of whatever this was, which would occur if you were to be found in bed with Sid when morning light broke and someone came down to brew coffee.

But, you also thought about the reward if you weren’t found out. With the imagining of that reward tucked away somewhere dark, you called to Sid before he stepped outside:

“I am, by the way.”

By mid-afternoon, you’d downed two spiked lemonades to help pull you precariously out to join the party. Kris’ friends were intimidating, somehow equally in the offseason, when they were mix-matched with their guards down, than when they were uniformed soldiers prepared to dazzle thousands on the ice.

It was warm outside, one of those weird days where the breeze sticks to your skin and makes it tough to breathe. Clouds rolling in the distance thickened the briny air: you could smell the storm coming, the salt and grass mixing with the pavement intoxicatingly.

You’d not had any complex interaction with Kris’ friends since the wedding, when you were a smidge shorter and a smidge shyer, and of course, that shiny college acceptance letter from somewhere hard to get into was how your family introduced you.

Nathan Mackinnon seemed to be the only one who remembered anything about you at all, now, and maybe that little extra mile shouldn’t have surprised you. 

In the earliest hours of the morning following the ceremony, your face numb and brain surging, one of the bridesmaids had pointed a lazy hand to Nate in a back corner, still a little uncomfortable in this glitzy world and it showed, and, she slurred, he’s been eyeing you up all night.

Now, you wondered, whether things might be different had you crept over to the corner occupied by Nate and asked him to dance. Maybe you could’ve wound up looking across the table at him, here, and Sid, sat beside him, head tilted back hungrily, would be meaningless. Maybe.

Things would’ve been simpler. It would’ve made sense, you and a guy closer to your age, playing on a team closer to your college, a little further from Kris and your sister, not one of Kris’ closest friends. It sure as hell would’ve made a lot more sense than whatever feelings flurried about your head, now, years later. 

But, that night, in a whirl of powder and heady perfume at that velvet-foiled table, Nate didn’t matter. You were busy talking to Sid.

For all your flaws, now, you were relatively good at cards. But, God, you were thankful you weren’t playing with cash. It’d only taken Kris emptying your pockets one time (on your birthday, no less) for you to learn one lesson: hockey players play a lot of card games. On planes, buses, in hotel rooms. He’d bought all your drinks after taking your money, but no amount of top-shelf tequila could patch up your pride after the beating you’d taken at that green felt table.

Your dwindling chips were serving as a painful reminder of that night, but there was a sliver of hope left, maybe. It was just you and a stupidly smiley Nate left, his stack only a few chips taller than yours.

You felt the hope abating when Sid tapped Nate’s shoulder and leant in to whisper something, bravado puffing his tanned shoulders, the slightest of smiles on that tender mouth.

Whatever that something was, it must’ve been good.

“All in.” Nate sucked in a sharp breath, neck red from the rum and coke by his hand.

The company around the table was spring-loaded, grasping their drinks in wait.

“What the fuck?!” You gaped, giving yourself away, and the table went up in playful jeers. 

You tucked your cards to the table, face down so nobody caught the off suited two and four you’d held strong with for, probably, far too long, and ran your hands down your face for a juncture, someone moving to reshuffle the cards as you rubbed your temples, eyes scrunched.

“Count me out of the next hand. I’m going to be a sore loser over there, in the pool.” You sulked, pushing your chair back from the table. Your thighs clung stickily to the mesh when you stood, shirking away from the disappointed babbling with an apology you didn’t mean. 

“Good hand, Nate. You had me going for a while there.” You smiled even if you didn’t fully believe it, the sportsmanship of your father barrelling back to you.

“I’m gonna apologise for that one,” Sid commented, a pitiful excuse to follow you away from the table after you’d already stepped into the pool, knee-deep and peeling your shirt from your body. 

With your hands hooked on the limestone lip at the water’s surface, wet chin against the warm, dry pavement, you watched Sid pace over.

“What the fuck did you say to him?”

If you weren’t halfway livid with Sid, there’d have been something unreal about the angle you had on him right there: the mounts of his bowed legs in shorts just a little too short, curving through the view of taut abs— why was he still shirtless, again? It’d been hours since they were in the pool. You’d be lying to say you weren’t at all contented by it. 

His dark eyes were gleamy, reflecting the glowing below him, and while he looked straight down at you, the angles of his face were made sharp by the water’s ripples. And yet, you were halfway livid, so none of that mattered. Kind of.

“Just told him you were trying not to smile.” 

Your stomach pitted.

“Whatever.” You scoffed quietly, glancing back to the table where the group was absorbed in a new game. The trifling curiosity ate you quickly. “How would you even know that?”

Sid looked around the yard, avoiding your eye.

“Your temple flexes when you clench your jaw, which you do when you’re stopping yourself. From showing anything, not just smiling.”

If you’d thought about it for more than a second, it would’ve made your heart burst, the way he’d noted such an incredibly insignificant thing. But, again, there were more pressing things to concern yourself with. 

“Y’know getting me beat in poker isn’t going a long way in convincing me to fuck you tonight.” 

You’d not known whether the closely-gathered crowd at the table could hear you across the lawn, but, at that point, you didn’t care. You peeked over at them, awaiting any indication they’d heard your dig. If this was how you were caught, you hoped it’d be funnier than it was controversial, but still, you watched. 

Sid didn’t miss a beat. Your body, once soft and liquid, turned rigid in an instant.

“Somehow I don’t think you need any more convincing.”

Long after dinner, after good-nights and still-hollow plans for tomorrow (the driving range missed us today, I’m sure of it, someone chaffed), Sid and Letang sat on the patio, the two of them. 

Listening to Steve Mears’ voice at the lowest volume on the surround sound, you found yourself there again, lime tang stuck to your tongue, amber lights turned down. One of their beers you’d stolen from the cooler sat on the coffee table, barely a mouthful gone before it lost its wet chill. You never really liked beer, more liked the way holding the bottle made you feel.

“You won’t finish it,” Kris had ribbed with a smile, watching you retrieve the bottle. 

“I will.” You swore, palming a few waxy lime wedges from a small dish on the table.

And, in the way that older siblings are meant to be, Kris was right. You poured it down the sink, listened to it gurgle as Sid and Kris came inside for the night, still laughing from something said behind the glass doors.

“What’d I say?” Kris pointed at you, grin growing on his mouth despite his hushed tone, the threat of waking the house looming.

“Shut up,” You replied, pointing the neck of the bottle at him like a threat, only making him laugh. “Maybe if you bought better beer I’d finish it when I steal them.”

“Less than half, right?” Kris pressed on, smiling, your resignation his glorious win. “You drank less than half?

A stupid, grousing little part of you felt warm, not at the banter, but more so, at Sid stood off to the side, bearing witness to it. Like on the first day, when your sister had made you sweat a little in front of him, made you feel like a kid again. 

The cool, older guy, watching you shrink, trying to prove yourself and failing. That stupid, grousing little part of you regretted grabbing a beer at all. But, whether or not Sid had picked up on your sudden disquiet, you didn’t know. It didn’t matter. The hand he slid against the curve of your back as he passed you, remaining a little too long, maybe, the weight of it pulled you back to yourself, drained all your feelings of smallness.

When Kris went to bed, the click shut of his bedroom door upstairs rang through like a starter pistol. Neither you nor Sid spared a word. You brushed past one another in the hallway, in and out of the bathroom to brush teeth and dress down, and pretended the intensity in the room hadn’t grown tenfold. 

Everything wound, coiled tight like a spring, waiting for something to give. 

You nearly gasped when Sid spoke first, felt it in your chest, his placid timbre.

“We didn’t end up getting past icing today.”

He eyed the notepad that sat on the coffee table fondly, all its smudgy ink. 

Half the tension gone, you scoffed.

“It just sounds fake!” You said, throwing a hand out at the TV despite the intermission on screen, the game long ignored, anyway. He helped you reel out the sofa bed wordlessly, toss out creamy sheets, and he pretended he didn’t see the way you were brooding, brow furrowed. 

“I really do think the game could be more interesting if there was a little more chaotic, pointless scurrying back and forth.” You finally collapsed on the bed, duvet puffing up around you, unbearably soft against your skin. 

Sid resigned to the place beside you, chuckling softly, “We don’t need to argue about this again.”, both of you wilfully ignorant to the magnitude of you in his bed, there, in his space like you belonged there (and maybe, by some measure, you did).

“Sid.”

He looked at you, just-hooded gaze knotting you inside. Your eyes were big, looking up, melting him. He swallowed hard before his head tilted in acknowledgement, breath on hold.

“Do you wanna touch me?”

“What?” He asked, voice buoyant, as though you’d started a joke. For a moment your throat went dry, starry eyes forever away, waiting for some kind of mocking you’d not known from Sid, but it didn’t come, of course, it didn’t. 

Lifting a hand to your hairline, to your jaw, instead, he stroked, drew a soft line.

“I thought the poker thing killed my chances.”

Elation teetered in the centre of your throat. Poker was a million miles away, everything was.

“You’re on thin ice.”

“I’m used to it.”

You caught the brittle shell of the joke but his index finger, now curled with a knuckle bent against the seam of your lips, reigned a lot more alluring. 

He started with two fingers, tempting your tongue, mouth lax and forgiving, waiting on an unspoken cue from Sid, something more. The quick press of his thumb up into your lower lip edged your mouth shut around him, and in doing so, pulled from him a sigh as you sucked, eyes drifting shut.

Your chin tilted up to follow the gentle motions of his hand, infatuated by how his breaths were growing shorter, more audible. 

His wrist twisted carefully as his hand thrust, drool collecting at his joints lewdly, soft suction hardening behind the press of your plush lips. 

He gulped, blinked slow. For a second Sid allowed himself to see you the same way he had just a day prior, this same place, occupying this same space in his head. 

Under auric light, even the most overt of the curves of your body lustred, soft from your nightly routine. Sid loved your eyes, the way they’d blaze when you spoke of something you cared for, and now, looking up at him, despite your lashes weighing heavy with lust, you still mouthing at his fingers hotly, he swore that blaze was almost the same.

For all he wanted to acquiesce his best senses telling him to stop it all, everything, right now, Sid couldn’t bear to pull his eyes from where they met yours. With his brow knitted as ever, the tight space under his ribs burned.

At a particularly hard drive of his wrist, you drew in a hard gasp around him, hips mindlessly gyrating, searching for something more than your silken sleep shorts. 

The sight of you, for how endearing and mind-numbingly pretty and dully burning it was in his torso, also mounted in him an urgent need, a fresh sense of arousal, you and those blazing, begging eyes. 

“You know anyone could come out here and see you like this. Yet you don’t seem to care, do you? Do you wanna tell me why that is?” 

He withdrew his hand, touching your cheek where a limpid tear had branded its track. Your eyes fluttered open. You didn’t know what to say. Everything you wanted to say hung behind your teeth, remained shapeless in your mouth, your jaw agape.

“You can be honest, Baby.” He told you earnestly, brushing your hair from your face, the lock shadowy against your skin, only aglow by a few dimmed bulbs in the kitchen, a sick reminder of the publicity of your location. 

“I want it,” You start, swallowing hard. “Really fucking badly, Sid.” 

Your fingertips sunk into his wrist beside your head, thumb resting at where you could feel his pulse, fastening beat keeping you firmly on earth. You looked at him, followed the glowy orange line along his side profile where the washy golden light backlit his skin. 

“Want what? What is it you want so badly?” 

His voice was so soft, tiny smile ruminating. He was fucking with you. He had to be fucking with you, playing dumb like this. Really, though, Sid needed to hear you call this for what it was: something more than a favour, more than a moment. 

He needed to know that he wasn’t imagining it all. The bottom of the stairs, and the patio table, sitting on the sand at the beach— that the sum of these seconds was something more than just this, family be damned. 

He didn’t think his heart could take this otherwise, whatever was about to happen, what had already happened.

“I want you, Sid. I need you to ruin me.” 

At that, maybe unwisely, Sid kissed you, the weight of your words not lost on him. 

It was mellow and chaste, as if he was testing the waters at first, perhaps a little afraid you’d stop it. When your hand found his throat for leverage, his kiss quickly hardened. He dropped his hip against the bed so he was on his side against you, one elbow to leverage his upper body, and you could feel him, even in the places your bodies didn’t meet. 

As the softness of your tongue met his in sync, your fingers followed suit at the waistband of his sweats. A tentative hand dwelled there, and the warmth of your mouth left him for a bare second.

“Can I?”

“Yeah, Baby.” 

Then you licked your palm and your fingers were below his waist, finding the hot, sticky tip of his length. He kissed you again, quick and open on your mouth, cut off by the loose glide of your hand down his warm cock, fingers barely ringed around the thickness.

You could hear the blood battering in your ears at the sound he made, a sharp hiss of air through his teeth while he watched you, trying to keep his eyes open: he didn’t want to miss any of this, needed to remember. The throbbing in your gut matched your pulse, growing heavy there in your lower belly, your pelvis surging thoughtlessly.

A little exploratory, you swiped a soft thumb over the head, smiling breathlessly when his hips kicked up. You revelled in the tiny reactions from him, the speeding up of his breath, chest surging. He clasped your wrist before you had the chance to push it much farther, changing his mind on a dime.

“Another time,” He said at your displeased little hmph. He pulled back up to his knees, resting on his haunches beside where you lay. 

“You keep saying that.” You quipped. “What if there is no other time?”

You could’ve gone cold at the inflamed words now hung in the air between you. You hadn’t even really known what they’d meant before you said them, didn’t what you meant by them, if anything at all. He didn’t let you go cold, though. Didn’t let the moment falter. 

He grabbed your jaw, squeezing just enough to open you up, mouth red and glossed. 

“Tongue out,” Is all that came, bypassing your annotation, the way it nipped at him. Still, you wanted this, your body trembled with it, all that want, so pent up. You stuck your tongue out as instructed, taking him down when he spit eagerly, a chill running down your spine to join with the beating in your belly, between your legs, where his free hand had begun flirting with the inseam of your shorts. 

The nipping at him only grew tenfold when your head lolled into the weight of his hand, captivated eyes glittering up at him, looking like he’d just told you he loved you for the first time. You stuck out your tongue again, proof you swallowed it, and Sid nearly folded.

Your legs spread further in anticipation as his fingers drew down your torso, and you found yourself mouthing at the hand now held on your jaw, thumb bridging over your lips heavily.

“I love your mouth.” His voice wavered some when your teeth found purchase around his fingertip.

“But, I think,” He pressed on, four fingers finally tugging your shorts and panties to the side, “I’ll like your cunt more.”

You gasped to save yourself making a noise any cruder, shivering at his words. The air, cool and moving, was a relief on your centre, but Sid didn’t give you time to appreciate it before he had a lone finger run the seam of your pussy, garnering some of your slick before rounding your clit. You moaned through lips crimped shut, face screwed up in a way so stunning it threatened to ruin the man above you.

It was one finger at first, dipping tentatively, daring you to say something, to breathe, even.

“Your fingers are,” You stopped to finally exhale, fearing your lungs could’ve exploded, “Bigger than mine,”

He chuckled at that, and tried his best not to let the image of you, your own fingers between supple thighs, working yourself over, distract him. Instead, that coaxing smile still on his mouth, he crooked his finger and eased in a second. You pulled your forearm over your face instinctively to cover your mouth as the pleasure forged and tightened, but just as quickly, Sid knocked it away, collecting both your wrists in his one free hand and holding them still.

“You gonna be a good girl? Stay quiet?”

His thumb nudged at your clit, wrist oscillating the tiniest amount to let him rub circles at your g-spot. You could’ve sworn you saw stars, vision gone spotty after you forced your clenched-shut eyes back to him where he watched you, even-faced, still expecting a response.

Your tongue poked out to wet your lips and you gulped, trying to compose yourself somehow. As if that was even possible like this.

“Yes. Yeah, I am.” You managed.

“Perfect.”

Your cunt fluttered at the inkling of praise, and Sid sighed a breathy laugh at your reaction, riling you up a little, hand moving faster, rubbing at that one delicious spot inside you with his thumb still trained on your clit, stroking attentively. 

“Please, Sid.” Your body squirmed and strained thoughtlessly and your hips bucked, hands struggling against the firm grip he held on your wrists. 

“I don’t know what you’re asking for.” His voice was shot, eyes dark. “Need to be more specific for me to give you what you need,”

Just like that, your resolve dissipated, need overtaking. 

“I need you to fuck me, Sidney. Need your cock inside me. I can’t take it any longer. Please put it in.” 

Your muscles tensed around his fingers once more, a soft thigh brushing against him, you enveloping him. His hand thrust slowly forward once more to nudge your sweet spot, now starving your clit of any attention at all. Your legs pressed tight around his wrist, writhing and bucking and trying. 

“You want me to put my cock in you, Baby? You want me to put it all in? Push it all the way inside until you can’t think about anything else?”

His voice got away from him, muttering sternly before he had the chance to vet his words. He could feel your reactions everywhere, sure his skin lay over white-hot coals, it was the only explanation for his roiling nerves. He loved what his unchecked words were doing to you, the way your mouth was split, whimpering from your throat, brow knitted, your body flowing with all of it, everything.

“Nothing else, Sid,”

Sid knelt back, hand leaving your cunt only to sweep your shorts and panties down in one motion. He watched in awe as your legs fell asunder for him once more, his shaky hand rubbing at the silken skin of your shin closest to him. You wanted to frame it, the look on his face in this light, all doe-eyed elation and awe, and you felt tight and pleated inside, seeing him like that, the anticipation overwhelming.

“Nothing but how stretched out you are, huh? How deep you can feel me inside you?”

You were sure he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

He gripped one of your legs, lifted your hips over the palisade of his thighs and shifted your body so he was situated between your knees, and you bit back a reaction to just how hot it was, the way he could throw you around at will. You watched him strip his shirt and ruck his sweats to his midthigh, and didn’t bother masking the drop of your jaw at the sight of his cock, leaking and heated, all for you. 

“Please, Sid. Please. I need it. Nothing but you.”

You looked like a fucking painting, halo of hair thrown out around your face, all glistening and rosy. And who would he be, now, like this, to deny you what you needed? 

He could’ve finished on the spot when the first swollen inch popped in— your hot, dripping walls choking him, blowing his mind. Both hands encircled your midsection, bracing himself while pressing you into the mattress as he rocked forward, filling you wholly. 

You sobbed nonsense into your own palm, fingers dug into your cheek so you wouldn’t whine too loudly. Your other hand came up under the shirt bundled around your ribs to tease at one of your nipples, quickly followed by Sid shoving the shirt up entirely, putting your tits on show for him. 

For all his elated doe-eyes had first roused you, nothing could’ve prepared you for this, his slack-jawed smile as he watched your cunt stretching around him obscenely. His hair, longer from the summer, curled and stuck to his forehead, sweat beginning to bead along his temple.

The first time you choked out his name, after his instinctual reaction to press you harder had subsided, he flipped you over with a hand on your hip, cock barely gone for a second before you mewled for it, helplessly empty without it.

You’d begun to say something quickly forgotten when Sid spoke and your blood felt bitter.

“Put your fingers in your mouth when I fuck you. I want you to remember.”

You let out a needy cry, head reeling like you could feel the chill flood from your brain to between your legs, remnants of your clipped orgasm building once more.

You did as you were told and eased your own two middle fingers over your tongue with the side of your face pushed into the bed. Sid made easy work of pulling you back into him by the flesh of your thighs, fingers heavy and rough, tearing a muffled yelp from around your fingers. He manoeuvred you so smoothly, nudging one leg to bend at the knee, opening you up for him, and crawled up closer to you while kneading the flesh of your thighs with greedy hands.

“You comfy?” Sid asked lowly, kindly, pulling your swimming mind back up, your desperate hands moving to seize fists of the duvet beneath you. The consideration bloomed in your abdomen. 

“Yeah, Sid.” 

With that reassurance, he inched forward, the hot head of his thick cock catching at your slicked entrance.

You were fucked, you thought, if someone came out here while he had you like this, nudging back inside you gently with the slightest shifts of his hips, stretching you slowly. 

There would be no hiding this. Something dark in you liked that thought: the idea that they’d know, whoever they were, that you were Sid’s. They’d see it and they’d know, even if it were only for a moment.

Cock finally fully seated in you, he reached forward with a hard sigh, brushing your hair from the sliver of your face he could see. The motion, the steady uptick of his body had him rubbing impossibly deep within you, coaxing a noise that was all head and throat, so pretty he needed to hear it again. 

“Pretty Baby,” 

You pushed back on him at that, trying to meet the calculated moves of his pelvis, heighten their intensity. Reciprocating, Sid found a steady, deep rhythm. An arm coiled around your hip, lifting your body the slightest amount, and his flexors pulsed against your lower abdomen, rubbing over your clit delicately.

You could’ve cried, a stunned moan probably a little too loud, circumstances considered, breaking from your mouth. You could feel the pressure mount in your pelvis fast, and Sid must’ve felt it, too, your heat ticking around him.  

“Hold it, Baby. Hold out for me,”

His thrusts were slow and hard and deep, and you vaguely registered his hand digging into the flesh of your ass, but you could only maintain focus on the fingers at work over your dripping pussy, where his cock railed into you, messy and raw.

“Please, Daddy. I need it. Please let me cum,” You were outright begging now, with little regard for how pathetic you must’ve looked (nor now into it Sid was, eyes pinched shut and head ripped back), and even less regard for the words leaving your mouth (Where the hell had daddy come from, anyway?). Sid had never really considered he’d like it, but now, from you, fuck.

You caught it, for a moment in your periphery, the hard column of Sid’s throat like stone, chin tipped. It took all you had not to swivel and push yourself up, take his skin in your mouth. Instead, you pressed your hand down, down, down, brain whirring, fingertips meeting his between your thighs. 

The stretches of space where his skin flattened heavily against yours, clammy and titillating, were growing to be too much. 

“You can let go, Baby. You’ve been so good.” 

Your body stuttered, muscles pulling. His hand between your thighs, rubbing soft, quick strokes at your clit didn’t stop for a moment, his body surrounding you, pressure everywhere at once in the most extraordinary way. At the crest of your orgasm, blinding heat flowing through you with your mouth pressed into the bend of your elbow to muffle yourself, you thanked him again and again, eyes scrunched shut, your tight heat milking him.

“There she is, atta girl.” His grunted words kept the feeling rolling, your skin tingling all over while your muscles throbbed, reaching fiercely to push his rutting hand from your clit to suspend the overstimulation, you both straining disbelieving laughter, curtailed by the contraction of your muscles around his cock cutting a filthy noise from his throat. 

His rhythm stammered barely a moment after, hands coming to the thick of your thighs and squeezing so severely, as all he’d done to hold out his own release collapsed, the feel of you falling apart at the seams beneath him, tautening around him, and your voice wrecked, still choking on your thanks, all of it too, too much. 

Sid hummed at the keen of his name that fell from you as he pulled out carefully, running a gentle hand over your ass. He could feel his cheeks heat up at the view of his cum leaking from your sopping cunt, burying away the borderline confusing feeling that it could’ve been the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, he ever would see, you looking so much like his. Dry-mouthed, Sid hiked his sweatpants back up and grasped for his shirt somewhere on the floor alongside the bed to save the duvet. God fucking forbid he have to explain the stain.

Propping yourself up a little higher on your hands and knees, your fingers came to your core, face, impossibly, glowing even deeper at the evidence of him there, adding to the aftershocks still trembling between your hips. 

Sid groaned quietly at the sight of you, a little unsteady and still affected before him, with two fingers pressing back into your sensitive pussy. You whimpered as your thighs buckled, pushing his seed back in messily. Sid’s shirt was bundled tight in his hand, the same one he then used to turn you back over sharply, tired giggle falling from your lips as your back collided with the bed.

With a nervy smirk, you propped yourself up on an elbow and ran your tongue over your fingers, sucking them clean and humming at the heady taste.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ end me.” Sid strained and shook his head, mind blank of all other thoughts. His smile prevailed, though, over the arousal stirring in him once more. He nudged at your knee as soon as he managed to snap out of that feeling, opening you up for him, and you shared shallow smiles following your little yelp as he pawed over your used pussy with the soft cotton.

Following the passage of a breathless moment, the pair of you sat across from one another and his hand came to yours, lifting it to toy with your fingers, caressing the knuckle where your teeth had scraped, comparing the insignificant marks to the ones he had, matching them.

When the warmth of his hand on yours began to roil in your chest, you stood up, both hands on Sid’s shoulders to steady your spent body. With a tenderness that had your cheeks full with a stunning grin you simply couldn’t help, Sid helped pull your panties back on, followed by your sleep shorts, and he let his hands remain on your hips, a quiet savouring of the moment, disallowing its inevitable slip for a while longer.  

“I’m gonna go clean up a little,” You murmured after a few beats, one hand collecting under his chin in a messy fist to nudge his eyes up to yours. Sid hadn’t realised his eyes were screwed shut at all until it took a moment to coax them open, the glow of your complexion a sweetener.

You whispered, “I want to kiss you again,”, and his eyes fell back to his lap, that tiny devastation creeping in.

"Are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

The air left his mouth slowly, like the drawing out of heavy nectar. It killed him to say it, to remind you of your sensibilities. 

You didn’t want to remember them, either.

Still, you were at a stalemate with your feelings. Regardless of what you wanted, now, you left without kissing him.

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