#tips his head against his son's. clenches his jaw. tries so hard not to cry with everyone standing there watching. hugs him closer.

[dennisboobs]

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

↳ moments that make me cry

#PATERNAL RELATIONSHIPS. GUARANTEED TO MAKE ME SOB. #iasip #it's always sunny in philadelphia #dennis reynolds #frank reynolds #mac mcdonald #charlie kelly #ada's gifs #ada speaks #dennis holding brian jr makes me. full on cry. #the way he goes from awkwardly holding him & trying to play it off like he doesn't care. nervous laugh and a glance back at mandy. #'am i doing it right?' i'm not fit to be a father. this is completely foreign to me. #tips his head against his son's. clenches his jaw. tries so hard not to cry with everyone standing there watching. hugs him closer. #says he's done saying goodbye and then backs away with a look of visible upset when mandy tries to take brian jr from him. #and. dennis kissing frank. at first going to hug him but deciding against it. too intimate. too much commitment. #and again... 'am i doing it right?' is this is how sons are supposed to act with their fathers? ''was that okay to do?'' #charlie just wanting someone to be there for him. to care for him. to care *about* him. #and frank. who caused immense damage to dennis in the short stints when he was actually around. but *was* around. #frank makes everyone realize that they are what charlie needs right now. that they all love charlie. #dennis. who is grateful for frank having been there. as abusive and selfish as he may have been. dennis took that and closed himself off. #taught himself to guard against it. shut off his feelings. prioritize himself above all else. he's Strong because of frank's neglect. #incredibly damaged. unhappy. but Strong. #because the ones who are supposed to care about you most in the world just don't. YOU have to care about you. that's how frank lived too. #charlie has chosen to avoid his entire life. #and now he's been forced to confront it all. he'd been content not knowing if frank was his biological father. #he had a father figure who cared for him. and he wasn't around because he didn't know charlie was alive. he thought bonnie aborted him. #but the reality of it all is that charlie's biological father avoided too. he knew charlie was his son. he spoke to him and *lied* to him. #and just as soon as they reconnect and have a chance to make up forty years of lost time #he dies. he fucking dies. and leaves charlie alone again. to carry him up a goddamn mountain by himself. shouldering this grief and anger. #charlie can't be selfish. he isn't allowed to now. because his dad died and left him one last task. he still doesn't want to let him down.

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Kin

Summary: Bucky’s been acting weird and you can’t help it when you expect the worst.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, swearing, breeding kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, degradation, GGFIL (you’ll see), arguing, cheating accusations

(A/N: this is different but I had fun writing it. And isn’t that what matters. Reblog follow like 💜✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @zaddychris @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @little-baby-vixen @mochamaniacbabe @brattycherubwrites @iam-laiya @whiskey-cokenfanfic @doloreshazes

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Bucky had never given you a reason to not trust him. He’d been nothing, but the perfect boyfriend now fiancé for the two years you’d been together. Sure it was a little difficult dating an Avenger mostly because you worried about him coming back to you, but still being with him was kind of perfect.

The first time you started to sort of question things was when a phone number fell out of his pocket while you were doing laundry. Some girls name written on a napkin. You didn’t want to jump to any conclusions especially since it’s not like he wasn’t meeting new people everyday because of work. Who knows it was probably nothing.

Then he came home all late that day smelling like vanilla. You know it was bad, but you tried to check his phone while he was sleeping. Not that it worked because your super assassin fiancé was a very light sleeper and woke up before you could even try.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked, in that sleepy voice.

“Oh it’s nothing,” you said, playing it off by stroking his hair. You know you should have said something, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

All he did was smile and kiss you before pulling you close. Like everything was fine. You know you should have asked him right then. The words had been on the tip of your tongue.

But you didn’t ask. Instead you let him roll on top of you before he started making out with you. Would a man that’s cheating be fucking your mouth with his tongue like that. Probably.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked with a sigh, putting his forehead to yours.

You shrugged, looking down at his mouth so you didn’t have to look him in the eye. “It’s nothing.” Then you out a fake smile on to really sell it.

“Come on,” he whispered. “You know I know you better than that. If somethings wrong you can tell me. Daddy’ll take care of you, Doll.”

You made the mistake of looking into his blue eye that seemed to be seeing into your soul. There was always this gentleness towards you. That he seemed to save for you especially.

“I’m fine,” you replied before rolling over on your side away from him. Bucky sighed again before wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Hey, so I’m busy tomorrow, but when I get home why don’t we do something?” He asked into your shoulder before pressing a kiss to it. “Just the two of us?”

You nodded, but didn’t reply out loud because if you did he’d hear that you were crying. You’d rather not deal with it.

So the next day you went to get some stuff done. Grocery shopping and shit. On the way home you passed by this coffee shop, recognizing his car as some girl got into the passanger seat.

Your stomach felt like it was doing fucking somersaults on the way home. You tried to keep yourself busy. Not wanting to think about Bucky or his lying cheating face.

When the door opened, you could hear him set his keys down on the table beside the door. You were making dinner because you were hungry. He could worry about himself.

“Fuck it smells good in here, Baby,” he said, coming to hug you from behind before kissing your cheek.

You didn’t say anything at first. Instead you continued to cook and even though he noticed how quiet you were, he didn’t let go of you.

“What? No hello?” He asked, kissing your neck.

You tried to shrug him off, but no you just had to be engaged to a super assassin who was strong as fuck.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You shook your head because you were pretty sure if you’d say anything you’d explode. Not that he wouldn’t deserve it. You were trying to keep an ounce of dignity instead of blowing up like your brain was telling you too. “Nothing.”

Bucky leaned up against the counter beside you, bringing your face up so he could look at you. “Baby, I know you better than that.” He tried to smile to get you to open up then it faltered when he saw that you were clearly not in the mood. “C’mon. Just tell me what’s up.”

“Nothing, James.” You turned off the stove because now you’d lost your appetite. As you tried to walk away he grabbed your hand.

At hearing his first name, he crinkled his nose. “Baby,” he whined all pouty, “please. I let it go last night, but you’ve never not talked to me. What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that we’re supposed to be getting married in two months and you’re cheating on me.”

Bucky looked so taken aback. His face getting all scrunched up. “What?”

“Oh so now you don’t know what I’m talking about?” You scoffed. “I saw you.”

“Saw me doing what?” He scoffed out a laugh. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Bullshit!” You yelled. “You’re lying to me!”

His jaw clenched as you raised your voice. “Watch your tone,” he commanded. “I didn’t cheat on you. I have no idea what you’re even talking about.”

“Really? Well then who the fuck is Becca?” You finally asked.

Bucky pulled away and you finally turned to face him. “How did you...” he trailed off.

“So, it’s true. You’re cheating on me?” You asked with a sniffle.

He shook his head. “No! Of course not, Baby,” he said.

“You’re lying! I saw you, James. I fucking saw you with her!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders. “Let’s just calm down so we can talk.”

“I don’t want to talk. I want you out.”

He shook his head. “No, Baby,” he said. “I know how this looks, but I promise it’s not like that. I’m not... I’m not cheating on you. I’d never.”

“Fine then explain.”

Bucky hesitated. Closing his eyes like he was trying to find the right words.

“If you don’t tell me then I want you out.”

It wasn’t like this was the first time you and Bucky had ever fought. This was just the first time you’d ever done this. Usually when he messed up, he’d buy you flowers or kiss you until you forgave him. This time you needed to let him know that none of that would work.

He scrunched up his face before finally looking at you. “Okay. Becca is...” he took a deep breath. “Becca’s my great granddaughter.”

You also finally understood what it meant for it to be so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Bucky’s eyes bore into yours as he gave his answer.

“Can we just sit and talk?” He asked.

You nodded and he turned off the stove so he could grab your hand to lead you over to the couch. He sat you down in his lap and you couldn’t help it as you started crying into his chest because you felt like the worlds biggest asshole.

“Hey, Baby, don’t cry,” he said. “Not like you could have known. Hell not like I knew until recently.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him with tears in your eyes. “We usually tell each other everything.”

“Because... I dunno I was waiting for the right time. It’s kind of hard to go to your fiancé and ‘go hey meet my great granddaughter, Baby.’” He chuckled before wiping your tears. “Or that I have a son and he’s seventy-six.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Seriously?”

Bucky nodded and laughed. “I know right. It’s...” he sighed, “it’s so weird, but I’ve been hanging out with them and its been kind of great actually. Having a family. Hate that I didn’t get to see him grow up.”

“God I’m... such a bitch.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You would have never guessed,” he replied, placing a kiss to the side of your head. “So, yeah. Becca is my great granddaughter. I was picking her up from work. She’s seventeen.” He looked down then at you again. “I just... I wanna be in their lives. Make up for lost time.”

You nodded. “I get that.”

“I should have told you. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want you to get freaked out.”

“Bucky, I’d never get freaked out over something like that,” you said. “Things are different for you and I wanna be as understanding as possible.”

He smiled. “I know, but doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I know.” You put your head into his neck. “God I’m such an asshole.”

“No you’re not. Any woman would have assumed the worst like you did. I didn’t give you any reason not to.”

Your lip trembled as tears fell from your eyes again. “I’m sorry, Bucky.”

“I know, Baby,” he whispered.

“So, how did you find out?” You asked.

“Becca came looking for me. Saw stuff about the Avengers and saw me. My son James, his mom told him all about me so...”

You smiled, but you were still all teary eyed from the way you’d talked to him just now. “I’m so happy for you, Baby.”

“Yeah, well, they’re your family now too. If you still wanna get married.”

“Of course I do! I was just... I was scared to lose you so I freaked out.”

Bucky kissed your cheek. “You’re never gonna lose me, Doll. Besides, if anything this all just made me wanna be with you more. All I can think about is making babies with you.”

You laughed. “You would.”

“It’s true. All this just made me realize how bad I wanna have a family with you. I just... I mean our wedding is two months away, would it be so bad if we started trying now?”

You shrugged and he smiled before leaning into kiss you.

“Tell me you don’t want me to put a baby in this pussy and I’ll back off until the wedding,” he whispered into your ear.

“Daddy, I...”

You could feel him growing harder against your ass as he started grinding you into him. Fuck he knew how to get you to that point. You hated how it took pretty much nothing for you to want him to fuck the shit out of you.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispered in your ear. “Tell me you wanna have my baby.”

You sighed so deeply because his breath against your year was making you feel fucking feral. “I want it.” It was like you couldn’t even stop yourself from saying it.

“What do you want. Tell Daddy what you want.”

You looked up at him with those big eyes. “I want you to put a baby in me.”

“Yeah? I wanna make you a mommy, Doll,” he said, before putting his metal hand around your neck as he leaned you into him. He helped you pull your legging down until you could kick them off. Then kissed your shoulder as he spread your legs. “You want Daddy to put a baby in this little pussy, Baby?” He asked now that he’d pushed your panties to the side so he could play with your clit.

“Daddy,” you whimpered, leaning back so you could connect your lips to his. He started doing that thing again where his tongue fucked your mouth.

All that plus with the way he was touching you was making you forget all about how embarrassed you felt for accusing him of such a terrible thing. You should know that your daddy would never hurt you like that.

“Gotta teach you a lesson now,” he said. “Don’t you ever accuse me of something like that again. I should fucking spank you.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, your pussy feeling all tingly from the way his fingers were rubbing you making you let out a moan. “Daddy!”

“That’s it, Slut. Don’t you ever threaten to take this pussy from me again. It’s mine.” He growled into your ear and it made your stomach tighten especially when he started nibbling on it.

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Good little slut,” he said. “You know better. This is mine.” Bucky’s fingers now dipped into your pussy making you let out a whine.

“Yes, Daddy!” You mewled as he stuffed your pussy with his thick fingers. Metal hand going from your neck to your tits.

“You’re lucky I can’t wait to fuck you or else I’d be punishing you, Doll,” he said as he groped you.

You leaned back so you could kiss him again. Reached between the two of you so you could take hold of his dick through his pants. Enjoying how hard he felt through the denim. “I know, Daddy.”

“You’re so lucky I wanna cum in this pussy instead.” Thats when he tore his hands out of you before forcing you to stand up. Bucky undid his pants, pushing them and his boxers off before pulling you back down.

He didn’t waste any time in sinking you down on his dick. Hands on your ass as he helped you move up and down. “Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours,” you whimpered. “All yours.”

Bucky grabbed the hem of your top so he could pull it over your head, watching as your tits bounced. “That’s right, Doll. Not gonna pull that shit again.”

You shook your head and then threw it back as you moaned. Bucky pushed you to the side against the couch before getting up so he could climb on top of you.

“Fucking love this juicy pussy,” he said. His metal arm coming to grab at your thigh as he bent your leg over his shoulder.

He thrusted in and out of you, shoving himself inside of you as his dick stretched you out. You tugged at his t-shirt that he hadn’t taken off. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Your head was bent back against the couch as you let out this low moan. “Fuck, Bucky!” Your eyes were watering as you started to feel your orgasm coming to you.

“That’s it, Baby, I know you want it. Want Daddy to cum in your pussy?”

You nodded as he got up so he could hold your throat again because he knew how much you loved it. “God, yes. I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” He groaned. “Gonna cum on Daddy’s dick?” He was all in your face.

You reached up so you could tug on his hair. “Yes! Fuck, please.”

“Good because I’m gonna cum in you. Daddy’s gonna gonna fill you up, Y/N.”

You cried out wrapping your legs around him as you came so hard. Maybe it was from all that bullshit and you almost ruining everything because fuck it felt so damn good. Especially with the way he was fucking you through it.

That was when he got closer to you. His balls slapping against your ass as he started getting really deep into you. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Daddy’s gonna cum in this pussy, Baby. I know that’s what you need, Baby. Need Daddy to keep you pregnant.”

“Uh huh,” you moaned.

“I’m gonna keep getting you pregnant for as long as you can. Make you have so many babies.”

You couldn’t help it as the noises you were making started getting louder. “Yes. Please.”

That’s when his hips stilled as he started to fill you. His seed flooding into your womb for the first time. He put his head into your neck once he started moving them again, trying to make sure he could give you ever last drop.

He laid there on top of you. Breathing all heavy before pressing kisses into your neck again. “Was that our first time without a condom?” He asked.

“Uh huh,” was all you could say. It was like you couldn’t move.

Bucky chuckled seeing you all frozen before yawning and getting off of you. He grabbed you so he could carry you to your room, cradling you in his arms. When he finally laid you down he pulled the comforter over your body, pretty much tucking you in.

He took his shirt off before getting in beside you, “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you replied your brain feeling like it couldn’t think.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. You just made my mind into goo,” you grumbled.

Bucky smiled before kissing your nose. “Good.” He held you around your waist. “So,” he breathed, “what do you think about meeting everyone.”

“How much is everyone?” You asked with a smile, turning to him.

“There’s James. And, he had a son also named James and then he had a son named Kyle. He’s twenty-two.” Bucky laughed.

Your jaw dropped. “Jesus.”

He was still laughing. “I know, right. And he looks just like me. It’s kinda scary.” But, there was this softness in his face. It was different than the one he gave you, but there was almost this pride you’d never seen him have before. “Then there’s Becca. She’s so much like me it’s terrifying. She even has a friend like Steve. It’s awful.”

This time you laughed with him. “Would it be bad if I met them?” You asked.

He shook his head. “No. I’ve been wanting you to, they’ve even been asking, but I just... I didn’t wanna freak you out about being a great grandma.”

You pouted, creasing your brow. “Baby, I know how strange your life is to say the least. I’ve kinda made peace with the idea that there’s going to be random shit popping up. Kinda what I signed up for when I agreed to marry an old man.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped, before he patted your butt. “You’re such a brat,” he said before kissing you. Then he pulled you away. “Wait I didn’t tell you about Noel and Kimmy.”

You laughed and then wrapped your arms around him as he told you about the two youngest kids. God you felt like such an asshole now. Maybe a blowjob later would make it up to him.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x black!reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian Stan x black!reader

[smutsonian]

Hi, I love your work btw. The talent!!! Could I pls have a Ransom Drysdale smut where the reader meets his family for the first time but before they got there reader was teasing him so he takes her into one of the bedrooms to punish her for being a bad girl and they almost get caught

a new member of the family

summary: ransom brings his girl to meet his family but she wants his attention more than she wants his family’s attention. 

warnings: SMUT, daddy kink, kind of public sex?, reader is rich af (like really), err just pure nastiness, not proofread. pls let me know if i missed anything

word count: 2.4k

a/n: i did it again... i made this just today so i can post something because i cant seem to finish that damn lee bodecker fic sjvfkvnsjfu

BTW thank you anooonnn 🥺

Lowkey missed doing them moodboards 🤧

masterlist

“That’s really impressive! How much do you make? Say… Yearly?” Joni gives the young woman a wide smile, clearly excited with the talk of money while her daughter, Meg, shakes her head in disappointment and embarrassment. 

 “Oh my god, mom! You don’t ask people that!” Meg gives her mother a glare before the young woman, Y/N, places her hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

“It’s fine, Meg. I quite like the interview,” Y/N smirks before turning back to Joni with a proud smile.

 “Well, I make 7 to 8 digits in an hour 10 on a good day so… I’ll let you do the math,” she chuckles at Joni’s stunned expression before turning to her boyfriend with a wink. Her hand snakes toward his chest as she pulls the man into a hug while her other hand travels down the front of his slacks, palming him discretely while Ransom’s family watched them in awe, not aware of Y/N’s wandering hand.

 “When can we go home?” She whispers close to his ear while he plays with his member through his slacks but he stops her with a glare and a firm grasp on her wrist before leaning down to whisper against her ear. 

 “Behave and enjoy the attention of my family. Continue teasing me and you won’t get any attention from me,” he warns as he kisses the top of her head while the family just watches with adoration in their eyes. 

 “Y/N, is it true that you can access new models of devices before they’re released?” Jacob’s quiet yet snobbish voice forces her to pull away from Ransom. She looked at the teen with a smile before nodding.

 “That’s somewhat true. Obviously not every brand but there are some.” Jacob’s eyes light up at her words but they even grew brighter and wider at Ransom’s words.

 “By some, she means a lot.” Ransom scoffs before walking off to sit on one of the sofas. Y/N’s eyes follow her boyfriend’s figure when Jacob grabs her attention once more.

 “Is it possible for you to…” The young boy had the audacity to be shy now but Y/N ignores it. She came here to impress Ransom’s family, didn’t she? So why not push the limits?

 “I’ll send you packages whenever new models come my way.” She grins and winks at the boy before patting him on the shoulder. Jacob’s eyes widen in glee before he surprisingly gives her a hug, muttering his thanks again and again.

 “Well, that’s new,” Walt chuckles at the sight of his son hugging Ransom’s new girl while Donna just smiles at her son’s elation.

 The Thrombeys are on about their usual banters, surprisingly calmer than the other gatherings because just like Ransom’s girlfriend, they’re trying to impress her as well. The young woman didn’t even have to try hard because her name already had the Thrombeys falling for her. She will be a good addition to the family. 

 Y/N was bored. She’s also needy, hot, and bothered but her boyfriend continues to ignore her attempts of leaving the place and doing it at their shared apartment…. Well more like a shared mansion? Their bank accounts mixed together could buy a whole country and that’s not even an exaggeration. 

 Y/N is so needy that she’d let Ransom have his way with her in the car. But it seems like her boyfriend just wasn’t in the mood.

 That will not work at all for needy little Y/N.

 I’m dripping here, Ransom. 

Seen.

What should a girl do to get some action?

Seen.

I see that huge bulge you’re hiding and it’s looking realll delicious right now.

Seen.

God, how I want to ride that huge cock

 Y/N bites her bottom lip as she watches her boyfriend staring at his phone screen, probably reading her text messages. 

 She smirks when Ransom’s head snapped up to look at her with dark and lustful eyes. 

 It worked.

 Y/N smirks at Ransom’s clenched jaw and she’s a hundred percent sure that he’s just as needy as she is. If he wasn’t ready to go home a few minutes ago, he is now.

 Ransom continues to stare at her before he squints his eyes at her as if he was assessing her and what he’ll be doing with her. Y/N’s smirk falls when Ransom breaks eye contact before looking down and shaking his head dismissively. 

 The rest of the day continued with Y/N trying to work Ransom up but he never budged. Does he still like her? What, is he tired of her? Negative thoughts flood Y/N’s mind as she tries one last time to get to Ransom. 

 They are now having dinner and she’s sitting beside Ransom while the rest of the family continues to talk about whatnot. Y/N didn’t care. She’s too busy running her hand along Ransom’s thigh, carefully and slowly inching close to his still hard cock. Maybe he does still like her…

 Y/N’s face falls when Ransom gives her a harsh look before ripping her hand away from his thigh and continuing to eat. Y/N lets out a huff before rolling her eyes and eating her meal quietly and quite grumpily. 

 She’s been chewing on the mashed potatoes when a large hand falls down her exposed thigh. The short dress didn’t cover much of her legs. She looks down at the hand before following the arm to see Ransom giving her a smirk.

 Y/N stares at him blankly before ripping his hand off just like he did with hers earlier and turning back to her sad-looking mashed potatoes. The hand that she pushed off comes back, gripping her thighs hard and forcing her to look back at her boyfriend with a frown. She glares at his smug face before wearing a faux smile. She leans towards his face as if she’s going to press a kiss on his cheek but she’s not in the mood to be all cute right now.

 “Fuck off,” she whispers, voice filled with spite before grabbing his hand and shoving it away with all the strength she could muster.

 Not too fond to be with Ransom right now, she excuses herself to the bathroom.

 Lo and behold, her boyfriend follows.

 Just as she was about to close the bathroom door, Ransom’s hand pushes it open, making her stumble back as he entered before closing the door himself and locking it.

 “I don’t appreciate you cursing at my face, little girl.” Ransom stares at her, eyes scanning her body while he starts to undo his pants.

 Y/N scoffs before turning away from him. “Well I don’t appreciate my boyfriend making me feel like shit the whole day then suddenly is all up on me.” Y/N lets out a whimper when her front is suddenly against the walls as Ransom presses his body against her back. 

 “That’s not how you talk to me, little girl. You’ve been very bad.” Ransom rubs his cock against her back before hiking her dress up so he can rub his tip along her wet folds.

 “No teasing is included in Daddy’s rules, am I right?” He growls against her ear and she nodded in response, whimpering as he continues to rub his tip against her wetness, teasing her slit but never entering.

 “And those fucking texts,” he lets out a laugh before stroking her hair gently. “My family’s attention is not enough for my little girl, is it?” He nibbles on her ear before his hands find their way to her front, groping her breasts harshly that elicits whines from her.

 “I-I only want daddy’s attention,” she whispers before rubbing her back against Ransom’s pulsing cock.

 “So needy for me, aren’t you?” Ransom chuckles before moving one hand to guide himself to her entrance.

 “You’ve been a really bad girl. I don’t know if you deserve daddy’s cock right now.” He clicks his tongue before pressing a kiss on her shoulder. 

 “But you’ve made daddy so hard and needy for this pretty cunt so I guess you’re a lucky one, aren’t you?” He chuckles before slamming his cock inside her, holding her hips so he can pull her closer to him. She lets out a cry from his actions but he covers her mouth with a huge hand.

 “You don’t want them to hear you now…” He trails off before removing his hand.

 “But you just love attention… I have a feeling that you’d love for them to know how much your daddy makes you feel good, huh?” He continues to slam his hips against her ass, groaning quietly as he feels her wet walls sucking his cock with hunger every time he pulls out. He watches as she bites her lip in hopes to not make a sound. 

 “Ahh fuck! I fucking love this cunt! You don’t know how those texts made me feel. All the touching… You wanted attention? You’re getting it now.” His pace becomes faster and it became harder for her to conceal her moans so she moves her arms so that her forearm is against her mouth, covering her cries.

 “I can feel your walls, baby… You’re going to cum, aren’t you?” His grip on her hips becomes tighter and she only nodded in response, silently begging him to make her cum but before she could find her release, he pulls out of her completely.

 “Daddyy…” She whines but lets out a squeal when he roughly turns her body around so she’s facing him now. 

 A hand grips her face, fingers digging into her cheeks as he forces his mouth on hers, hungrily lapping every corner of her mouth before he slams his cock back inside her cunt.

 A knock on the door makes her stiff against Ransom but he only smirked as he continues to ram into her, eyes watching her in amusement, waiting to see how she’s going to respond to the knock.

 “Y/N, dear? Are you okay?” Joni’s voice tears through the sounds of their skin slapping together and Y/N had held onto Ransom’s broad shoulders when she feels herself getting closer.

 “I-I’m okay, J-Joni! I’m almost done!” Y/N manages to shout and Joni thankfully leaves. Ransom smirks at Y/N with dark eyes before using one hand to stimulate her clit while the other gropes her breasts. His head dips down her neck to suck hungrily before nipping on it gently and licking at the same spot. 

 “You’re almost done, huh?” He nips her neck one more time before moving to her lips, easily shoving his tongue in her mouth while she could only whimper against him in pure pleasure.

 “I’ll help you finish,” he whispers before pulling away and focusing on fingering her clit while he continues to slam his cock into her.

 He watches, observes, her face while he continues to please her. He enjoys every reaction he pulls out of his girl as he starts slamming hard and deep all while his fingers rub her clit with such speed that had her mewling in ecstasy.

 “Mmm, you close?” He smiles as her eyes are closed while her mouth opens but no noise comes out. Her back arches at the feeling and he stares at her beauty in awe. He’s very lucky to have her.  

 Ransom continues to stare as she finally cums, body shaking against his hold and it might just be his most favorite thing to watch. 

 “Daddy!” She moans, no longer able to hold out and Ransom immediately pulls her in for a kiss. Though the thought of his family knowing he’s able to please this fine woman makes him swell with pride, he didn’t want her being ashamed or abashed when they go back out. He really cares for his little girl.

 Ransom continues his thrusts, eager to have his release as well.

 “Where?” Ransom grunts breathlessly and his girl smiles at him in a daze, lust flashing her eyes before she grinned. 

 “Inside, pleasee daddyy…” His girl whines and who is he to deny that?

 With a few more thrusts, Ransom finally gives a final hard thrust before his face scrunches in pleasure and his eyes closes as well while he spills every single drop of his cum inside her. His head falls back as his mouth spills profanities and his girl watches in admiration just like he did with her. Just as thankful as he is to have him as hers.

 “Ahh, I fucking love you!” Ransom grunts before pulling out and putting his slacks back on. He grins at the sight of his cum spilling down her thighs. He swipes the trail with a finger and his eyes widen in fondness as his girl grabs his wrist before putting her lips around the finger and licking his finger clean of his cum. He could feel his cock twitching against his slacks and he scoffs in amusement.

 Ransom helps her fix her dress before he pulls her into a hug. 

 “I fucking love you,” he repeats and she nods against his chest.

 “I love you too, daddy,” she smiles up at him before chuckling when he leans down to press a quick kiss on her nose.

 “I think we’re ready to leave now. Continue this at home.”  Ransom laughs at her eagerness and follows her out of the door and out of the house, quickly saying their goodbyes to his family.

 Oh, he got really lucky with you. He’s fucked up a lot in his life but he’s not going to fuck things up with you.

----

 BONUS SCENE:

 “They’re literally doing it in the bathroom!” Meg screeches, face contorting in disgust.

 “Mom, you heard them!” Meg looks at her mother, expecting to back her up but the older woman remained silent.

 “Jesus!” Meg cries, rolling her eyes at her mother.

 “Why are you so worked up?” Joni asks her daughter with a frown.

 “Yeah… Doing it is pretty normal. It’s one of the needs of humans…” Jacob gives Meg a look, jaw clenching when Meg scoffs at him.

 “How would you know?” She gives him an irritated look before Walt speaks up.

 “Don’t be so pissed, dear. Jacob is right. It’s human nature.” Walt grins when everyone agrees. Everyone seemed to be on Y/N’s side.

 Meg scoffs at everyone. It’s a fucked up family and she doesn’t know if she’s worried for Y/N or happy to have another sane person in the family. 

 One thing is sure. Y/N will be a part of this family.

----

taglist:

General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox @anncutamarica @chaoticfiretaconerd @i-love-superhero @caffiend-queen @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @jennmurawski13 @mushyjellybeans @ninjabucky @evnscvll @buckstaybucky @donutloverxo @rebloggingeverything @adriannajackson @la-cey @awaywithtime @gotnofucks @littlegasps

Anything Chris: @patzammit @princess-evans-addict @shadowcatsworld @notyourtypicalrose @onetwo3000 @bluemusickid @heyiamthatbitch @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @empath-bunny @slytherinandoutasgard

Chris and seb: @harrysthiccthighss

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom imagine #ransom smut #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale imagine

[idreamofplaid]

All That Remains

Summary: Dean has more than one secret that he’s keeping from the reader, but he’s ready to tell the truth.

Characters: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2296

Warnings: non con (discussed not depicted)

A/N: This is a one of my earliest fics that I first posted on another blog.

Dean has nightmares. He's had them his whole life. You know it, and Sam knows it. Tonight's nightmare was particularly bad. You were ripped from your sleep by the sound of Dean yelling down the hall. 

Instinct took over; you jumped out of bed and started running toward Dean's room. You had to get to him. Dean was your best friend; he needed you.

You met Sam, who was running from the other direction, outside Dean's door. You looked at each other briefly. Dean's voice was coming clearly through the door. "No. I won't do it! Get away!" You looked at the door, swallowed, and looked back at Sam. "Let me." He barely hesitated before he nodded, backed away a couple of steps, then turned and went back to his room.

You opened the door slowly. It was dark in the room, too dark for you to see Dean until your eyes adjusted to the darkness. As you got closer to the bed you saw the death grip his hand had on the covers and the pained expression on his face. He kept saying "no,” and you made a decision. You pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed and climbed in next to him.

"Dean, Dean." You called his name softly and then more loudly. Your hand reached out to touch his shoulder as you continued to call his name. He awoke with a start and sat up in bed breathing fast and hard. You moved behind him and put a hand on his back to settle him. "Dean?"

He turned and looked at you with wide eyes. Recognition dawned on his face. He knew it was you, and he reached for you. "Y/N." You took his large muscular frame in your arms and held him tightly to you. Dean could handle himself in any situation. He had faced every kind of monster there was and won, but now alone in the dark with you he was vulnerable.

You eased him back against the pillows with you. "Come on, Dean. It's okay." You tucked him up against you, laying his head on your shoulder and continued to whisper to him as you ran your fingers soothingly through his short, soft hair. He had a handful of your nightshirt in his hand. "Stay, Y/N. Don't leave me. Please."

"I will. I'm here. After a while, his breathing evened out slow and steady; he was sleeping. You kissed the top of his head. It wouldn't be easy for you, holding him like this, considering you had been in love with him since you were sixteen.

The next night at bedtime, you showed up in Dean's room. "Y/N, what are you....”

"I'm making sure you sleep at night; I'm being here for you. That's what best friends do. So, make room for me, Dean, I'm staying." That’s how you started sleeping in the same bed with Dean every night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For three months you had been sharing a bed with Dean, and it was very comfortable, except for the times it wasn't. Those were the times you caught yourself staring at his lips while he was sleeping, or the mornings you could feel his erection poking into your leg or your back. You dealt with your feelings because your presence helped him sleep, made him feel safe somehow.

It was bound to happen eventually; the next bad nightmare came. The two of you had fallen asleep facing each other with your legs entwined, and Dean was holding your hands. You woke up with him squeezing your hands tightly and screaming "No!" again. You squeezed his hands back and started calling his name.

His eyes popped open, and when he saw you; they filled with tears. He pulled one of his hands from yours and quickly tried to brush the tears away. You gently pulled his hand away from his eyes as you spoke softly to him. "Cry, Dean. Just cry. Let it all out." You held him while the tears flowed. Finally, when he was all cried out, he said in the quietest voice you’d ever heard him use. "I'd never hurt you."

You kissed his still wet cheek."I know, Dean. I know you wouldn't."

He looked at you with haunted eyes. "You're the last person I'd hurt, Y/N.". 

You held his cheek in your hand. "Dean, are you ready to tell me what you've been dreaming about? Is it Purgatory? Are you reliving having the mark again?"

He shook his head, looked into your eyes, and then all the way down your face before running one of his hands through your hair. His voice caught as he said, “I've been dreaming about hell. Being in that secret prison made me think about it again. A lot."

Your heart tightened in your chest. The weeks Dean had been locked up had been horrible. You hadn’t been able to eat, sleep, or concentrate on anything. Worry had consumed you, but he was here now. Now, you could comfort him. "Dean, I'm sorry. It must have been so awful being trapped in that place."

He sat up and ran his hand down his face."Don't be sorry for me; you don't know what I did." He was crying again. 

You were by his side in an instant, close to him so he could feel your presence. "Dean, you can tell me. You can tell me anything. You know you can.”

“You told me about the first time you got drunk, and it made you sick. You told me about taking the Impala without asking your dad as soon as you got your driver’s license and getting arrested because he’d reported it stolen.”

It hurt to say this next one, but it proved your point. “You told me when you lost your virginity." 

Dean laughed a humorless laugh and said almost to himself, "Yeah, that should have been you."

It was quiet, but you heard it. In a whisper you asked, "Dean, what did you say?"

"I said you should have been my first; then maybe I wouldn't have spent my life chasing women, comparing every single one of them to you. Maybe I wouldn't have spent my life drinking and being reckless because I didn't have the one thing I wanted.  If I had done things different, things might have turned out different. Maybe I wouldn't have gone to hell at all.”  

"Oh, Dean." You put your hand on the side of his face. He put one of his over it and pulled it down to his lap holding it there just looking at your palm. "I did horrible things in hell,Y/N." His jaw clenched. "I did horrible things to you." He looked at you with tears in his eyes threatening to spill again.  

"Alistair knew how to break me, Y/N. When nothing else worked, he used you. He threatened to do everything he had done to me to you while I watched. He told me the only way to stop him was for me to r...rape you. And...I did. I did, Y/N. I did it." He was crying freely now and could hardly get his words out.

"You begged me to stop. You begged, and you cried. I hurt you, Y/N. I hurt you while that sadistic son of a bitch watched. He knew it would break me because I loved you. I couldn't do it anymore, and I damn sure wasn't going to let him touch you."

You closed your hand over his and held it tightly. "That wasn't me, Dean. You didn't hurt me. Alistair just made it seem like it was me to torture you."  

He was shaking now. “It was your voice, your body, your tears, your blood. Your blood was on me. How could I do that? I love you."

That was the second time he'd said it. Your emotions were whirling, your heart was fluttering, while at the same time Dean was in so much pain you had to do something.  You took his face in your hands.

 "Look at me, Dean. You were in hell. You were trying to protect me from something worse. You have never hurt me; you won’t ever hurt me. I know that. I trust you." You leaned in and kissed him, slowly, gently, and deliberately. 

You were moving your tongue slowly around his and sending a message. "It's time to make a different memory, Dean." You lifted his t-shirt over his head.

Dean brushed his thumb over your cheek; sadness still filled his eyes. "I can't let you do this, Y/N, not like this. I won't let you have sex with me to make me feel better.”

"That's not why I'm doing it, Dean. I'm doing it because I love you too.” His hand stilled on your face, and his eyes connected to yours. 

You held his gaze. “It's time to replace all that pain with the truth. Kiss me, Dean."

His kiss was gentle and passionate; his lips met yours with wonder and certainty. Then Dean kissed along your chin, moving toward your neck. You turned your head to give him better access. He reached down to the hem of your nightshirt, pulling it up over your head and leaving you only in your panties.  

Dean kissed your shoulders and your breasts. He swirled his tongue around each nipple, sucking them until they were tight, and you were aching between your legs. He kissed his way down your stomach until he reached the waistband of your panties, then he raised up to look at you.  

You looked into his eyes. There was hardly any green left in them at all; they were blown with desire. You nodded and said "yes,”  but only the slightest ghost of a whisper came out. He took his sleep pants off first, then your panties. 

You had imagined his body a million times and never done it justice.  His shoulders were broad; his abs were just right. They were visible without being too much. His cock was already hardening, and it was big. You wanted it inside you; you wanted to feel that stretch. 

Dean lowered himself back down over you so he could kiss you as he tested your opening with one of his fingers. He gingerly pushed in his index finger to the first knuckle. You were already squirming beneath him. He felt your wetness and pushed his finger the rest of the way in. "Yes, yes, yes." You kept saying it; you wouldn't let him doubt how much you wanted him and just how okay this was.

He added another finger slowly pumping them in and out. You were arching your hips up to meet his fingers at this point. "More, Dean. I need to feel you. I've waited so long for you. Please." He pulled his fingers out and lined his cock up with your entrance.  Slowly, he pushed just the tip inside you, and you gasped.

Dean froze. "Y/N, are you okay?"

"I'm good. It’s okay. More than that. Show me you love me, Dean. Show me." He pushed halfway into you, then stopped so you could get used to the feel of him. He wasn't moving, but just feeling him inside you was all it took. Your walls were clenching around him, and your legs were shaking.  

Your mind had one thought running through it. "Dean. This is Dean. It's Dean." And you came with him part way inside you and not thrusting at all. He kissed you through your orgasm, still hard inside you.

"I do love you, Y/N." He pushed into you a little more. Inch by slow, controlled inch he buried himself all the way inside you. It occurred to you then what he was doing. He was treating you like you were a virgin, and you were tonight. You were his virgin. He wanted to make you forget too, forget there had ever been anyone but him.  

Finally, he started to move inside you, and you rolled your hips against him. His thrusts became deeper and eventually more erratic. He was close. "Let go, Dean. Come for me. Give all of you to me." You felt the hot spurt of his release inside you, and you were tightening around him, coming again yourself which prolonged his orgasm.  

Dean collapsed on top of you and rolled off to the side. You turned toward him and put your head on his chest. He wrapped both of his arms around you. Your lips trailed a line of kisses across his chest. His first words surprised you. "Was that okay?" You traced figure eights on his stomach.  

You lay your hand in the center of his chest over his heart. "Dean, it was incredible. There's nothing hidden between us now. I gave myself to you. Willingly. Wanting you, needing you, loving you. Couldn't you feel that?"

He was playing with your hair. "Yeah, I felt it. I just can't believe it. I can't believe you'd want me, that you'd... love me. You make me feel like there's good in me even after... everything."

You lifted your head to look at him. "Because there is, Dean. So many people, and non-people, have tried to make you believe that isn't true, and you believed it. I'm here to remind you all that is a lie. Right now, what we're feeling between us is the truth. Love is the truth. All those horrible memories will fade away. When they do, you'll still have my love; I'll have yours.”

 He kissed you, accepting your words. After that you never left Dean's bed, and he never dreamed about hurting you in hell again.

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#dean angst #dean smut #dean fluff #dean x reader #dean oneshot

[scoophilia]

Hiccup watched the furies from the window, dancing in place. His face hurt from an ear splitting grin. “I can't believe it! He's not the only one! This is amazing!” He said all giddy.

Astrid hummed in acknowledgment. As she placed the basket next to the hearth. Strong arms wrap around her suddenly, picking her up. Hiccup spun them around laughing.

“H-Hey! I know you're excited but PUT ME DOWN!” Astrid yelled, still smiling. They slowed to a stop and Astrid steadied herself when her feet touched solid earth. Hiccup pulled her close. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he sighed happily, then he murmured something against her neck.

“Speak up lad! Can't hear ye through the lass,” Gobber piped up, as he stoked the hearth.

“Oh sorry,” Hiccup said, lifting his face clear, “I said: we found another night fury! A female one at that! Toothless may be a dad this Snoggletog. Think of what we could learn from her, the kids, her pack, and-”

Astrid pulled way and turned to face him. She held her hands up.

“Woa, woa, Hiccup! Look, I get you're excited, but-”

“But what? Aren't you happy?”

“Of course I am, but let's be realistic. They might not become mates,” she cupped his face as his jaw dropped, “not cause Tooth isn't amazing, he is, but they might not pair up. Or she has a mate already. She coupld be alone too, we just don't know. I just don't- don't want you to get your hopes too high...”

Silence.

Brows furrowed together, Hiccup pulled away. “How can you even say that, Astrid? We found another after so long. If there's even one, there's a chance! And besides, look at all we've done,” he made a sweeping gesture towards Berk, “In five years dragons and vikings are living side by side. We stopped a madman for Thor's sake.”

“Hiccup, I know that! We don't know anything bout her. She could be the only one.”

“We thought the same for Toothless. It's unknown, yes, but that just means we gotta keep pushing forward! That's how we found her. There could be more and even something greater than that. Anything is possible....Right?” His voice dropped to a whisper.

Astrid stared up at him quietly. Crossing her arms tight, she sighed deeply before plastering a smile on her face, “you're right. If we found her after pushing forward, anything can happen!”

Joy flashed across Hiccup's face at this, until a loud chirp came from behind. Stormfly had poked her head through the window, chirping once more. Then squeakier chirps followed. Smaller Nadder heads peeked above the windowsill, and Astrid bit back a laugh.

“That's my cue,” Astrid said. A quick kiss to Hiccup's cheek before she walked over shoving the Nadder's head out the window muttering to herself. She looked over her shoulder grinning, “They wanna train now. Just like their mother. See ya later!” Astrid vaulted herself out the window and disappeared.

“Hmph!”

Hiccup spun around at the noise. From his spot at the hearth Gobber had scrunched up his nose, and not at the fire. The smith wasn't facing it. “Does that always happen?” He asked.

Another grunt came from him when he saw Hiccup eyes widened in confusion. Hiccup blinked owlishly at his mentor. Before he can speak, Gobber asked, “Does the lass always agree wit' ya?”

His hands flexed, then clenched at his sides as Hiccup gritted his teeth at the accusation. He sucked in a deep breath and lets it out slow. Finally he says, “don't like what you're insinuating, Gobber. This is Astrid, she doesn't agree with just anyone. She trusts me. Besides, she wouldn't just bend to make me happy.”

Gobber sighed, setting the bellows down. He shifted to face Hiccup and as he opened his mouth, a difference voice called out.

“You're too used to how Stoick and I were, Gobber. They're not the same.” They both turned to see Valka walking in.

Gobber said, “right, of course...” he then rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “ye...easy te forget when ya vanish for twenty years....”

“What was that, dear?” Valka asked.

“Nothin'.” Gobber muttered, poking the hearth again. Hiccup shot a warning look at Gobber. He was given a grunt. Hiccup sighed then smiled upon seeing his mother. Valka made her way over, eyes roaming the house.

“I came over te see how our new resident was doing. Didn' see her outside. I thought she might be in here.” Valka said.

Shaking his head, Hiccup said, “nah, she left with Toothless. Think he's showing her around.”

His gaze turned to the window where he stared long and hard. His lips twitched at the corners. Eyes twinkling, he spun on his heel and ran up the steps to his bedroom, grinning as he made a beeline for his desk. There, a notepad. He snatched it up before running back down, taking two steps at a time. Grinning ear to ear, he rushed by his mother and Gobber. The latter stared at him, gobsmacked. Hiccup gave a wave as he walked out the door. Gobber and Valka exchanged a single look.

Valka sighed and said, “I figured, knowing my son.”

She got up to follow her son.

Gobber sighed heavy and deep before his head rolled back groaning. He forced himself to his feet, dusting the hearth and killing the fire, then he fumbled after them, all the while muttering under his breath, “my son, she says. If he's anyone's son he's MY son...”

Pushing himself through the crowd of vikings and dragons after the sound of Hiccup's voice, Gobber found himself near the feeder station. The smith scratched his head. Gobber barely looked to his left when something pulled him down to the ground. A curse bubbled in his throat until he saw who did it.

“Hiccup...” Gobber whispered.

Knelt below the rim of the station, Hiccup's head peeking over it and Valka copied his stance. He shot a glance at his friend. He grinned, then pointing ahead. Gobber grumbled as he reposition himself to mirror him and Valka. Across the way they saw Toothless and the female fury walking by, mouths moving with wings and tails twitched. A prance was in Toothless' steps, and the female held her head a bit higher.

A loud screech echoed through the area then, and a swarm of Hideous Zippleback came soaring down across the rooftops. Several Terrible Terrors scattered from Gothi's roof, dropping to the ground where they scampered past Toothless and the Fury. The female dropped to the ground, eyes the size of dinner plates before they disappeared behind her wings.

Hiccup braced his hands on the feeder, ready to vault himself over, but Valka yanked him back by his shirt. He looked at his mother, stunned. She shook her head before pointing, “you'll scare her worse. And Toothless is already handling it, see?”

When they looked back, they saw Toothless knelt down and his mouth moving. Slowly inch by inch the Fury uncovered herself, blinking owlishly around her. Toothless warbled something at the Zipplebacks. As one, the group tilted their heads before bowing deeply them. The heads exchanged a small look before barreling over to the two Furies, and their forms were swallowed by the larger dragons. A roar broke up it all up and the group scattered into different directions. Toothless emered snorting in annoyance, then he looked down to see...the Fury hadn't moved.

Brow raised, Hiccup scratched his chin while tapping his fingers. He tried to push himself to his feet, but his mother, yet again, pulled him down. She gently whispered something in his ear, and his shoulders slump as he nodded. She then slipped away from them, off to who knows where. Gobber shuffled closer to Hiccup. The sparkle in the boy's eyes had faded as had his smile turned upside down.

“What did she say, lad?” Gobber asked.

Quietly, Hiccup said, “she'll handle it...she's the expert...”

Gobber opened his mouth, venom on the tip of his tongue. A shadow fell over them, and they both looked up to see Cloudjumper and Valka walking by. Gobber internally rolled his eyes. The big grump would be of no help in Gobber's honest opinion. He looked over to Hiccup, ready to say this, but forced it down the second he saw Hiccup beaming at his mother.

So they watched from their spot as Cloudjumper made his way to Toothless and the other Fury, the latter staring up at Toothless, too focused on him to even notice the new dragon approaching. Toothless' expression changed into a gummy smile and the Fury cocked her head, then followed his line of sight. Her jaw dropped as her head tilted upwards to Cloudjumper's face.

She screamed.

Then she ran.

Cloudjumper stumbled and fell backwards, wings flailing, and Valka jumped out of the way of his tail. Terrors flew off in droves from rooftops, and vikings nearby slammed their hands over the ears and any dragons that could did the same. Hiccup nearly jumped out of his skin. Gobber facepalmed. Toothless followed in pursuit, crying out for her.

The Fury ran through the splitting crowd, not even looking with her eyes squeezed shut. She slammed hard into someone and bounced off like rubber, landing flat on her back. Head spinning, she looked up to see Hookfang and his rider glaring down at her. The Nightmare's nostrils flared.

She gasped hard, a scream building in her throat. Toothless slapped a paw over her mouth. Toothless squinted his eyes at his friend, a growl rumbled from within. Hookfang rolled his eyes, but wandered away from them, Snotlout looking back only once with a sneer. When out of sight, Toothless sighed before he led the Fury away with one wing shielding her from the stares and whispers echoing through the village square.

Looks were exchanged, then all eyes turned towards Hiccup. The chief rose to stand and stated aloud, “she's new and got scared. Let's just let it be, return to what you were doing. Please.”

The crowd slowly began to disperse. Hiccup sighed, rubbing the back of his head, and looked over at his mother who was tending to Cloudjumper. She looked over, simply nodding.

“Never thought a'hd see the day. A Night Fury, being a coward!” Gobber blurted out as he got to his feet. Hiccup shot him a look. Gobber tossed his hands up and said, “oh come on! Ye saw it wit ye own eyes! And no, let Tooth handle it. You and me, we're gonna do some work!”

Hiccup's protests died on his lips as Gobber dragged him away by the collar. The quiet walk to the forge was filled with Hiccup talking a mile a minute bout what happened and Gobber nodding his head. Grump's snores bellowed out from the forge as they grew closer, and once there, Gobber handed Hiccup a saddle and hammer. Hiccup sighed, shaking his head. Gobber moved towards the back to gather more materials and check his dentistry schedule, and they settled into a steady rhythm. Three hammers on rivets into leather melded with the three taps of a dragon tooth being reset.

A familiar warble over the noise caught Hiccup's attention. He poked his head out to see Toothless walking over...with the Fury by his side! Hiccup grinned, and watched with glee as the two “talked”. The Fury's head hung low, yet her eyes sparkled like the sea as she took in the forge. At the doorway, he met up with Toothless.

Toothless bumped his head gently into Hiccup who patted his friend's neck. The Fury sat behind them, and curiosity flashed across her face. Toothless turned around to face her. Bobbing his head at Hiccup, he curled a wing around his friend. The Fury blinked once. Twice. Hiccup felt his breath hitch in his throat as she took a step towards them, him.

“I told ya to keep the kilns goin', Grump! Ya lazy beast!”

Loud grunts proceeded a sudden blast, and a burst of fire explodes behind the duo. Hiccup and Toothless spun around to see Gobber waddling out covered in soot. The smith grinned awkwardly.

Shrieks erupted from behind, and they spun around to see the Fury hissing and flapping her wings at them. Hiccup went to take a step towards her till light caught his eye, and the blood drained from his face.

“Toothless...YOUR TAIL!” he yelped.

The dragon snapped to attention, and found his fin ablaze. He slammed his tail several times on the ground to try and put it out and Hiccup bolted from his spot. He stomped on the fin (with his proper boot) before ripping it off with his bare hands. He quickly tossed it to the center of the road and the fire fizzled out as the flame hit the dirt.

Panting heavily, Hiccup looked at Toothless who looked back at him. The friends shared a sigh of relief.

A scream of rage filled the air. The Fury tackled Hiccup to the ground, her paws pressed against his throat. She opened her mouth, bulding up fire and Hiccup gulped.

Toothless let out a deafening roar. The Fury began to shake as her neck twisted to face the sound. Hiccup caught a glimpse of her muscles in her neck twitch and flex, her eyes bulging wide while her pupils turned to slits. He swore he heard her heart skip a beat.

With his wings flared open, his teeth bared, and an ethereal blue aura glowing along the length of his spikes, Toothless growled. The fury never looked away as her body moved on its own.

Hiccup jumped up, rushing to Toothless. He wrapped Toothless' head in a gentle hug, stroking his head soothingly, and only then did Toothless begin to relax. The blue aura disappeared a moment later. He said softly, “it's ok, bud, it's ok. Thanks bud, I'm ok really. Don't gotta go alpha, she didn't know. She wanted to protect you, right little la-” Hiccup stopped mid sentence when he looked at her.

The Fury stared without blinking, her body frozen. Her knees buckled. She dropped to the cold earth with a thud. ~~~~~ Been a hot minute since last update. Some drama happened in life, which put me in a rut and sense of dread. Am working on it tho! I'm still working on the story; got an outline to work with. Though next update may come out much later. Decided to write out the entirety of Starcrossed then do the art for it. Can post it consecutively rather than randomly. So stay tuned for that owo Thank y'all who read the story. Please leave your thoughts on it! I appreciate constructive criticism too. HTTYD belongs to Dreamworks while Legacy & Midnight belong to me.

#how to train your dragon #toothless #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #Astrid Hofferson #hiccstrid #Valka haddock #gobber the belch #night fury #dragons #artists on tumblr #small artist

[catxsnow]

AFTER HOURS chapter two

Summary: Enemies to the public, friends to their close ones, friends with benefits between them. Rival companies and an attraction that can’t be ignored. 

Tim Drake x reader

Warnings: swearing, mature content, smut, 18+ only, mention death of parents, car crash mentions.  

A/N: Chapter twooooooo it shall be getting more interesting next chapter😏 

Word Count: 3.6k

It seemed that her life seemed revolve around business meetings. Nine in the morning, another at eleven, two at noon but there was no way to attend both, a final one at three. Meeting after meeting, and for what? To hear the same things over and over again? Some people choose to do this for the rest of their lives.

There was something about the busy Gotham streets that always caught her attention. Maybe it was the sound of the horns, or the people yelling within their cars. Gun shots or screams. There was always something to distract her from whatever meeting she was forced to listen to. Maybe it was because she didn't want to listen to it at all.

Of course, running this company was important. Without her parents, she had to take control of it. It was an important company too, just along side WE, they worked to make Gotham, and the world a better place. That didn't mean that she wanted to here about the statistical analysis of it all.

Not to mention that the weight of her parent's anniversary was heavy in her mind. Four years since they had been gone, four years of blaming herself. They went to Gotham to visit her, if they had just stayed home, they would still be home. Car accidents happen all the time, but that didn't make it any easier.

The second that the final meeting was over, she couldn't seem to get out of that room fast enough. She just wanted to be in the privacy of her own office. The door nearly slammed shut as she closed it. Back against the wall, heavy breathing as she tried to hold herself together. It was always hard on that day of the year.

A bright bouquet of flowers was on her desk. With a shaky breath, she headed over to see who they were from. It wasn't rare for her to receive flowers. Gotham's greatest bachelorette - more like people wanted her for sex and money. Without that company, she wouldn't have been idolized like that.

The bouquet was grand: flowers of every color and kind poked out from it. Whoever this was, they had spent a lot of money on it. (Y/N) picked up the small card and read what it said.

For your parents. I know days like these aren't easy, I'm sorry. - T.D.

"Those are pretty."

"Ms. Vale," her jaw clenched at the sound of the voice behind here. Great, this was the last thing that she needed to deal with today. Vicki Vale had a tendency to show up on her worst days. "What do I owe the pleasure of today and who let you into my office?"

"I let myself in," she said. Vicki Vale stood tall and proud. She had a large purse over her shoulder which surely held a plethora of notebooks and pens. Always ready to catch a story and always eager to stir up drama within the city. "Hope you don't mind. Just wanted to ask you a few questions about this new business deal that you're about to make. But, now I'm curious about the flowers, who're they from?"

"Why don't you tell me?" She sat in her chair as Vicky sat in the one across from her. "You do enjoy making headlines about me and my, as you say 'promiscuous life'." There had been many titles about (Y/N) - between her risky clothing, the second that she were talking with a man outside of business, or her attempts for normal dates - she was there.

Vicki casually reached her perfectly manicured finger tips towards the card from the flowers. Before she could even come near, (Y/N)'s palm slammed down on the desk. She pulled the card towards herself and out of the reach of Vicki. The last thing she needed was for the reporter to put two and two together to realize T.D. was Tim Drake-Wayne.

"Another hopeless lover of yours?" She raised an eyebrow. There was no answer. "I just wanted to ask you what you thought about Wayne Enterprise's attempt to stop the progress of your new development? Mr. Drake - sorry, Mr. Wayne, had lots to say on the matter, I hope you do as well."

"As a matter of fact, I don't." WE's attempt to stop the development was futile. Even Tim had told her that. There was no reason for them to try and stop it when in the end it would benefit both companies. They just wanted their name on it rather than hers. Everyone in both companies knew that.

It was for namesake that there was disagreements about the development. She was lucky enough to have beaten Tim to it first. This was going to a be a massive break for the company, one that would sky rocket sales and put you neck and neck with Wayne Enterprises once again.

"Mr. Wayne is your biggest competitor, aren't you worried?" She continued to pry. (Y/N) had gotten skilled over the years of not letting the curiosity of others get to her. She was able to keep her face straight and her mouth shut - even when she had lots she wanted to say. 

"Mr. Wayne has always, and will always be my biggest competitor. Unfortunately for him, I was the one to give the statement first about this new addition to the city. I will become Gotham's biggest economic resources, just as I have always tried to do in the past - and just as Mr. Wayne has always done in the past."

"So, you're saying that you public enemies?" Vicki pressed. She had always known about (Y/N)'s vendetta against the WE, but there had never been a statement that she tried to take the company down so hers could thrive. That was never her intention, they could co-exist always.

"I'm saying, Ms. Vale, that Timothy Drake-Wayne is a smart man. He knows when to push through fights, and he knows when he is losing. This time, he's lost. The next time, I won't be so lucky. Those who are fighting for the same cost are never enemies," she firmly stated.

"Will you be attending the Wayne Gala?" Vicki continued. Of course, there always had to be questions that weren't related to the company. She wanted anything to see (Y/N) with a man, just to make a headline for the decade. In all these years, not once had she been caught in the dating scene.

"No. I've made a donation, but I will not be attending," She answered. The tag from the flowers seemed to burn the skin of her hands. Tim sent those flowers because he worried, not because he wished to impress her. "Don't you have some better reporting to do rather than finding strings to cling onto of my personal life, Ms. Vale?"

"That'll be all for today."

><

Tim's bouquet of flowers felt heavy in her hands. The weight of having to visit her parent's graves was always a hard task to do alone. As time passed, it seemed easier to go visit them. Years of working hard to make them proud, years of showing them how much the business they started thrived.

There was nothing more that she wanted than to make them proud. Even as a child - working hard in school, playing sports, everything that would have brought a smile to their faces. In death, it felt like she needed to work even harder. Then again, as time passed, she forgot the sound of their voices, the crinkle by their eyes as they smiled, she forgot the warmth of their hugs.

As time passed, she forgot that she could be happy.

Work consumed her in the past four years. Late nights at the office, early mornings, weekends even. She lost friends, disconnected from family, deterred everyone away. Running this company had changed her life, and not necessarily for the better. The responsibility of it all was almost too much to handle on her own.

"Mr. Wayne's son bought these for you," she spoke to her parents graves. Tim's flowers sat on the grass, bringing some brightness to that gloomy day. "Surprising, I know. He's very kind, I think you guys would like him if he wasn't running Wayne Enterprises. At this point though I think you would like any man that I talked to.

"I miss you both, a lot. I'm securing a new development in the company, it's really going to pull us ahead this time. Dad would have thought it would have been a risky move, but I did it. I beat them for once. I hope you guys are proud of me up there, I'm really trying to make this city a better place in your name.

"Happy anniversary mom and dad, I love you," she sighed once more before heading back to her car. The walk back seemed long. Her shoulders hung low and she furiously wiped away the hot tears that threatened to spill down her eyes.

To her surprise, Tim was there, leaning against his own car right next to hers. He was reading something on his phone, but as he heard her footsteps, he looked up. "Mr. Wayne, thank you for those flowers, they were beautiful. What are you doing here?"

It wasn't often that they met up in public without there being some sort of business meeting along with it. Tim shoved his phone in his pocket and gave her a smile filled with sympathy. To be honest, he was visiting his own parents. Their chat the previous night had edged him to go visit their graves.

It just happened to be lucky timing that she was there as well. Tim didn't want to disturb her, but he did wish to speak to her. He always wished to talk with her - not just about business. He liked being with her, she was refreshing in his life of darkness. Without evening knowing much about it, it seemed she understood him more than anyone.

"I was in the area," Tim vaguely answered. He knew that he could tell her that he was visiting his parents just like she were but he felt deterred from doing so. Besides, upon seeing the redness in her eyes, he didn't want to worry about anything besides her. She had been crying, it was evident for someone like him. "I'm glad you liked the flowers, they used to be mother's favourites."

"They stirred up quite the fuss with Vicki Vale today," she tried to joke. Tim rolled his eyes at the sound of her name. He wasn't her biggest fan, in fact he was far from it. Vicki had single-handedly meddled into his life and forced him to live an entire year with a fake spinal injury and crutches. He had gotten off of them just before meeting (Y/N).

"She came to see you too, huh?" Tim shuddered at their meeting that afternoon. Question after question about his involvement with Ms. (L/N). Vicki was sure that there was something going on between the two of them - and for once she was right. "The new development or your latest hot date?"

"Considering my latest hot date is non-existent, it was the development. But, she was pretty eager for me to say something about you," She half-smiled. Tim shook his head, of course. Vicki was always trying to start a turf war or make the two of them fall in love. "I know you just came over last night... but I could really use a distraction from today."

A distraction. That seemed that was all he was to her. Nothing more than something to get her mind of the life she was thrown into. Of course, that was what it was all about at the start. Fucking to forget. He knew it, he went into their benefit relationship knowing it but as time grew...

"There's nothing wrong with taking a break from work," Tim changed the subject a little too quickly. In the four years he had known her, she had aged. Worried creases were around her eyes and scattered on her forehead. Dark circles always under her eyes. It worried him. "I'm not saying leave or anything, but you can have fun every once in a while. It's a Friday night, why not go to the bar with your friends? Let loose and live a little."

Tim was right. She wasn't the young eighteen year old anymore that would have been chastised for having a drink. It was legal for her to go out and have fun, maybe tonight was the kind of night that she deserved. Her parents wouldn't want her to sulk over their deaths, they would have wanted her to live her best life.

Going out was exactly what she needed. Not a distraction, not something that would keep her mind busy for a couple hours just to fall back in her pit of despair. She needed a genuine change in her life, and maybe that started with connecting with old friends and making some new ones.

As no words came out of her mouth, Tim took the time to realize that it was his moment to leave. She was obviously deep in thought with his words. He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it before getting into his car. "I hate when you call me Mr. Wayne," he told her.

It was true, not only did it make him feel old, but it also made him feel like they didn't know each other at all. That was far from the truth, they both were far closer to each other than they would like to admit. Tim knew of her desire to keep their relationship business - and emotionless sex. They were after all, public enemies.

><

For the first time in years she woke up with a hangover. Pounding head, upset stomach - it was a feeling that she didn't miss. It wasn't rare for her to sleep naked in her own home, but it was to feel a heavy arm across her waist. Dark hair, muscular back - for a second she swore it to be Tim, but this man wasn't nearly as broad as he was.

Aside from the thumping in her head, memories of what happened the night before started to resurface. She had taken Tim's advice and called up her friends to go get a drink. One drink turned to two, which turned to shots and getting plastered. It had been so long since she had seen them all that letting loose was almost too easy.

She knew that she shouldn't have gotten that drunk, but having fun like that for the first time since she started working at that company was exhilarating. Unlike she had thought - her friends accepted her right back in. They knew that she was under a lot of pressure and that making time wasn't easy. They were just thankful for that night.

So, with a small reunion at the front of the bar, they headed in and got hammered. She treated her friends round after round - partially because she easily could and partially for an apology. It didn't take long for them to become a laughing mess while catching up and remembering the old days.

By the time the night was coming to an end, her friend pointed out the man that had been eyeing her up for hours. Whether it was the alcohol, the need to continue her good night, or to show her friends that she was just as fun as ever, she went to the man. Minutes later, they were walking out of the club and into a taxi.

Now, he was asleep in her bed and she had no idea whether or not anyone outside of her friend group knew what had happened. The man stirred. He pulled himself closer towards her as he woke. Warm brown eyes met hers, a genuine smile. What was his name? Jacob.

"Good morning beautiful," his voice was hoarse, sexy. Her mind raced between the option of soaking up some more moments of fun or getting back to her usual self and kicking him out. She went with the first one as he glided his hands along the curves of her side before placing his hand at her jaw.

It made her falter. This man... as good looking and as sexy as he was, he wasn't Tim. He didn't please her like Tim did. He didn't make her feel as good as Tim did. Even the sound of his voice didn't bring her the same amount of excitement. Why did she feel like she betrayed him? They were allowed to sleep with who they wanted.

She pushed away the feeling. Tim was the one to tell her to go out and have fun. Let loose from the burden of running a company and just the kid that she was. Sleeping with men, getting drunk, that was all part of her teen years that she missed out on. Tim wanted her to have this.

"Coffee?" She asked. Maybe that would stop the ridiculous headache she had. Or maybe she was using it as an excuse to get out of bed with him. Jacob nodded. He pulled her in for a long kiss, lingering against her for just a moment too long. The two of them grabbed whatever scattered clothes they could before going to her kitchen.

As the smell of coffee beans filled the air, she checked her phone for the first time that morning. Unlike the endless abundance of emails that she had gotten - there was a plethora of missed calls and texts. This was far from usual. Her eyebrows furrowed as she opened up the one from her closet advisor.

A picture of her and Jacob leaving the club, pictures of them kissing, her taking shots and drinking with her friends. Is she really mature enough to run this company? Black bold letters stared back at her. This was exactly what she was trying to avoid. The media had taken her one night of fun and turned the city against her.

"Fuck," she breathed out.

"What's wrong?" Jacob asked. Genuine concern was in his eyes for why she was suddenly upset. She was frozen in her spot, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen. Jacob stood behind her, hands on her shoulders as he glanced over the article itself. "Oh." He never assumed that the media would do this.

In the bar, he knew who she was. Everyone in Gotham knew who she was, however he never expected her to be that beautiful in person. His friends had been hyping him up all night to go talk to her, but he knew it would never be a success. So, when she came to him, he couldn't say no.

Now, he worried that in one fowl swoop, he had tainted everything that she had worked so hard for.

"I think you should go," she told him, not trying to be rude. This wasn't his fault, none of this was. It was her fault for agreeing to her friends to go after him, it was her fault for agreeing to Tim's idea. Tim. This wouldn't have happened if he hadn't offered. Was this a ploy to get her company to fall so he could come out on top?

"I know it doesn't really mean much from someone like me, but... No matter what Gotham has to say about you, I think you’re the only one keeping this city somewhat sane," Jacob told her. He genuinely thought her to be a good person - not just some chick with a nice ass and easy access. There were people in Gotham that wanted to see her succeed, regardless of her age.

It was a hard idea to get through her head - people believing in her for her brain, not her body. So many articles, just like the one she read this morning, forced her to a life that made her weary of trusting people. She wanted to be seen as powerful, influential - not as a little girl who ran around sleeping with people.

"Thank you," she smiled. "If it means anything, I did have a great time last night." Jacob chuckled, but agreed. He waved a final time and left her home. Reluctantly, she went through the rest of the texts that she had gotten over the night. All of them were the same - reminding her that she was still an immature kid.

The board of directors, her friends, advisors - everyone seemed to have seen it before she had. It was the text from Tim that stood out to her the most. I see you took my advise, hope you had fun last night. Don't worry to much about the paps.

Don't worry? Don't worry? The great Tim Wayne had nothing to worry about, ever. Her on the other hand? She was constantly under scrutiny. In the eyes of society, Tim was the perfect candidate to take over WE. He was smart, cunning, he had a way with the people. It seemed that there was never anything bad for someone to say about him.

Her life on the other hand? She fell under Gotham's microscope and was picked apart until there was nothing left beside the mistakes she had made. This was another mistake, another mishap that would push her back and make her fall under the hand of Wayne Enterprises. The same man that tried to convince her that this was the best thing that she could do for herself.

This was Tim's fault, and she was furious.

@julia-and-comics @unknowntoanyone @willieoo @kindashittywriter @subtleappreciation @yandereforyou @pricetagofficial @because-icanhide @magicisabluewish @hyp-oh-critical @littleredwing89 @boy-georgina @sparkleofpizza @craptainlou @timtimmersdrake @hauntingsonofrobin​ @anothertimdrakestan​ @idkmanicantenglish​ @vvipgot7be​

#tim drake #tim drake imagine #tim drake smut #Tim drake fanficition #tim drake fic #tim drake x fem!reader #red robin #red robin imagine #dc imagine #dc #after hours #tim drake series #smut

[innocent-chris-evans-slut]

Sinful Fuck

My Masterlist ✨

Requests are open.

Word Count: 2,4k

Type: smut

Summary: you and Ransom have a son. One evening they’re both hungry -of different things-; how can you feed both at the same time?

 Warning(s): NFSW, +18, swearing, unprotected sex, hair pulling, spanking

You were reading a book, finally enjoying a couple of hours of peace, when you heard a loud and desperate cry coming for upstairs. You panted and ran in your son’s bedroom, picking him up from his crib and bringing him close to your chest.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask him, even if you know he isn’t able of doing it yet, “What do you want?” you saw his tiny hands aiming at your breasts and you immediately got why he had gotten up.

You smiled and hold him closer while you climbed downstairs, you dragged his stroller next to the couch, where you sat down and uncovered your left breast, letting your baby boy taking your left nipple between his lips and sucking it, “Calm down, mini Ransom”, you called him like that only when he behaved like his father and, at that moment, he was acting possessive and craving just like his father.

Sometimes you wondered how you managed to marry Ransom Drysdale. When you had met him, he was the asshole Ransom Drysdale everyone knew, but as time went by, he had become a better version of himself and you couldn’t help but fall in love with him every day more. He had proposed at Christmas two years before and in a matter of months you were wearing a wedding band next to your engagement diamond. Then you got pregnant and there you were, taking care of your son while Ransom was running the best-to-be company in Massachusetts.

You rubbed your thumb on his little forehead while you saw him becoming red as he sucked harder on your nipple. You flinched when he pressed his gums together in order to get more milk from you. You adjusted the position of your breast and gave it back to him.

“I’m home!”

You heard Ransom roughly closing the front door and his heavy steps coming closer to the two of you. When he showed himself to you, his eyebrows were furrowed, his lips tightened in a line and his jaw clenched, “Honey, are you alright?”

“Clearly, I’m not!” he sat down on the armchair in front of you and took his boots off, “I had a terrible day at work. all the people I work with are stupid idiots!”

“Hey, can you keep it low? I’m trying to put him to sleep”, you slowly removed your nipple from his lips and, with the help of your other arm, you re-dressed, “Also, can you go to the grocery store? I need-“

“Seriously? I’m telling you that I’ve had a shitty day at work and what do you do? You tell me to do shopping?” Ransom threw his phone on the coffee table standing in-between the two of you, before your husband moved it away.

“Hon, what are you doing?”

He tossed his sweater to the floor and brought your legs up on the couch, “I’m fucking you”, he replied calmly. The short and large dress you were wearing helped him reaching for his target: your pussy. He undressed you from your panties and threw them behind your back -most probably in the kitchen.

“Wait- Are you fucking me with Jay in my arms? That’s-“ you stopped, you didn’t have a word to describe what he was thinking of doing, “That’s sinful”, you managed to say, firmly holding your little boy in your arms.

“That’s sinful, right. But you weren’t complaining when I was fucking you with your wedding dress on, with all our guests waiting for us. Or the thousands of times you would suck my dick ‘cause you were willing to during your pregnancy”, while talking he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, “I’ll tell you what’s really sinful from you: you enjoying me covering your round belly in cum when you were pregnant”, he got rid of his trousers, standing in front of you with only his underwear on. Through the thin fabric of his boxers, you could state how hard he already was and, for the hundreds of times you had seen it, you could picture the reddish tip of him, begging for some attention from you, “Now, tell me, how do you think we’ve conceived this little man? Praying? Oh, you’ve been on your knees, but for sure you weren’t begging God-“

You stopped him here. All the dirty talk he was doing made you very needy -not that it was a problem standing in the same room of Ransom- and your clit was throbbing, though your husband hadn’t still touched you, “If he cries, you stop”.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You made more room for him, spreading your legs even more open and you saw him lowering a bit before lining up with your entrance. Ransom rubbed the tip of his length between your folds, testing your wetness, and then started playing with his fingers, “R-ransom-“ your moaned, desperately trying not to cry out -as you were usual doing.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he had that smirk on his face, the one you hated in the bedroom, “What’s wrong?”

You knew what he wanted and how he wanted it. You closed your eyes and threw your head back; you tightened your grip around James’ little body with one hand while the other one went to Ransom’s bicep.

He kept teasing you, by gently caressing and then stinging your folds. Ransom knew you were about to cry out when he saw you holding back a scream, “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

You breathed in and out slowly, “Hugh Ransom Drysdale if you don’t put your cock inside me and start fucking me, you’ll sleep on the couch for a week. At least”, you said, sticking your nails into his shoulder.

“That’s what I thought”, he slid the tip of his hardening cock against your warm and soaked core, “Always so wet for me”, your husband brought two fingers to your mouth and let you wrap your tongue around them, so that they would be wet enough when he slipped them inside your channel.

You flinched and let out a moan, “P-please, Ransom”, you wrapped your arm around his underarm and squeezed it, “No games. I need this, I need to feel you”.

Your husband -you really liked calling him that way- hit your soft spot with his middle finger, making you see stars, “You’ll feel me for days, after tonight. This little bean better sleep all night long, I have plans on knock you up…again”, he removed his fingers and soon replaced them with his thick and hard cock.

“Fuuck”, you wide-opened your eyes and watched as Ransom pulled himself out of you, only to thrust into your pussy harder than before, “I missed this”.

“What? How good I fuck you or…uh, you’ve always been so thigh”, Ransom increased his pace and every time he made sure to hit every single angle of your channel. When you felt him hitting your cervix, the knot in your stomach grew bigger and it was a matter of second before you came with a chocked cry. “Yes, fuck, I knew it was there. Now it’s my turn”, he smirked and came closer to you, “Hold on, baby”, then glanced at your child still in your arms, “And also him”. His hands grasped the seatback and he started pounding into you with inhuman pace.

After James was born, Ransom and you had never had a moment alone and, if you had, it was quickly interrupted by his mother, or his grandfather, or James’ crying. That was the reason why he was fucking you like it was the last time, giving all of him, releasing all the stress he had been accumulated in the last period. And, damn, you really hoped he could save something for later.

“Fuck”, you whispered, closing your eyes and resting your head on you child’s, “Too much, Ransom”, you felt so overwhelmed with pleasure that you almost didn’t acknowledge the second wave of pleasure hitting you right away. Your mouth involuntary opened in a ‘o’ and slowly let out a deep breath. Your chest raised up and down rhythmically as you tried to calm yourself down.

“Oh, baby”, one second after you felt hot spurts of cum being released into your channel and Ransom didn’t come out until he had recovered his breath, “Damn, you look so beautiful. Have I ever told you how stunning you look in your post-orgasm?”

If there was something about Ransom that you would have never changed was his dirty talking. He would make you cum only doing his talking and you were certain he would experience that, in a more relaxed moment. Maybe as a foreplay, before fucking you stupid -you thought.

“Hey, give him to me”, your husband stretched his arms out and took your baby from your hands, before pulling out of you and place him in his carriage, “He’s peacefully sleeping. This means I can force another orgasm out of you”, he playfully spalled your ass cheeks and motioned you to get up.

Right when you were about to smarten yourself up, Ransom took your wrists in his big hand, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What?” you asked, totally unconscious of what his plans for you were, “I thought-“

“Nope. You don’t think. You do as I say”, he pushed your dress down and, helping himself with his foot, he tossed it near to the armchair’s base, “Kitchen, now”, he used his don’t-fuck-with-me tone and it made your core clench.

As if you were still a teenager, you rushed in the kitchen and leaned against the counter, waiting for your husband to join you, “What do you want me to do, daddy?”

The first time you had called him like that was right after realizing you were expecting a child from him; you came up with that ‘nickname’ thinking it was funny, but in the bedroom, it was everything but funny. Calling him ‘daddy’ had woken up some primordial instincts which you were glad you were the only one able to satisfy them.

“Oh”, Ransom caressed you cheek, “By the time I will be done with you, you’ll be so sore and your pussy will ache so much that you won’t be able to take our son into your arms”, Ransom grabbed a stool and sat down, not before getting rid of his trousers and underwear.

He was naked and ready for round two, a sight which gave you goosebumps. His thick and erect cock moving as he approached you got you soaked.

“Turn.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle and do as he’d ordered. You knew the rules: you couldn’t look behind, so your eyes were set in front of you, while your hands were tightened around the edge of the sink. Ransom put pressure at the base of your spine, making you bend over the counter and you shivered when your nipples met the cold marble surface.

“What’s wrong, mummy?” he caressed both your sides and placed you perfectly between his legs; one movement and you would feel the tip of his cock at your entrance, “Is it cold?”

You mumbled in response and tilted your head back when Ransom grabbed a bunch of your hair and made you arch your back.

“Poor baby”, he made sure you were to take him once again and deepened his grasp around your waist. You were sure bruises would have surfaced in the morning, yet you didn’t care until Ransom would feel you good. “Are you ready?”

Again, you mumbled a ‘yes’, and became breathless when you felt Ransom’s thick and long cock making his way inside you. The moans escaping from your mouth were almost pornographic -fortunately James was still asleep.

You loved everything about that position; Ransom would have easy access to each spot of yours, he would hit every single spot that made you moan. You would welcome his entire length in your channel, allowing his cock to hit your cervix every now and then. And, what you loved the most, you liked that position because he would spank you. His big, callous hands would reach your ass cheeks and leave signs that he had been there, and you loved the vibration, which would go straight to your clit.

“I should record you next time”, Ransom began slowly -as was usual for him-, moving your hips on his lap with circular movements, “Do you remember what they said in the hospital? ‘He’s so cute’”, he bit your shoulder and forced your head down by putting a hand on it, “If only they knew how good I fucked you at our wedding. You were so hot that day”, you were surprised by his thumb wandering on your spine, which stopped before your arsehole, “Dressed in white. As if you were a virgin, but you’re not. How many times had I fucked you stupid before that day?”

His question urged a reply and you were too lost to give it to him, yet he did want an answer form you. Ransom knew every weak point of yours, he knew that if he stopped moving, your high would fade away and he would come before you, ruining your own orgasm. So he did it, he stopped and impaled you, “I’ve asked you a question. How many times?”

You gasped in search of air, yet you managed to give him his answer, “A lot, daddy. A lot”, you arched your back as you felt your walls clenching around him, “Please, make me cum”.

“As you wish, mommy”, he kicked the stool to a side and quickly and deeply thrusted into you, “C’mon, girl. Cum”, he wasn’t asking, he was ordering it and you satisfied him, stretching him and holding him into you until he came too, leaving all his seed inside you. “I love you so much”, he kissed the entire length of your spine up to your neck, then turned you around, “My life would me miserable without you”.

Ransom always acted like an asshole, but he wasn’t; with you he had always been the caring and sweet Ransom, your husband and father on your son.

“I love you too, hon”, you kissed him and let him embrace you and take to your bedroom. As soon as he laid you down on the soft mattress, you asked: “Can you keep an eye on Jay? I would really like to sleep”.

“Sleep, I’ll take care of him”, Ransom left a kiss on your forehead and made sure you were already sleeping when he left the room. Once in the living room he checked on your son and sat down on the couch, right next to his carriage, “Sorry, pal. I know, that wasn’t respectful. But we gotta work on your little sister, or brother”, then he grabbed the newspaper and read about how the Patriots were training for their match in the weekend.

PERMANENT TAG LIST:

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#ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey smut #ransom x y/n #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombrey #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x y/n #chris evans #chris evans imagine #knives out

[subbing-for-clones]

The New Apprentice Part 2

Maul x Sith!Reader 

WARNINGS: attempted rape, violence, fluff

Word Count: 2.7k

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                Weeks had passed since you had impressed your master with the taming of two Rancor and the killing of one. It was also the last day you had impressed him. Coming to the realization that you were in fact an incredibly gifted force user, you left much to be desired when it came to your saber skills despite being well versed in hand-to-hand combat and the use of other weapons. He hadn't even trained you himself yet, leaving Savage to help you with the basic forms. You were getting better but your master had told you he wouldn't spar with you until you could best his brother.

    The two of you clashed your weapons together in the morning chill after your daily strength training. You were faster but he was stronger and had more practice. "You're blocking your mind little one," Savage instructed. "Use your foresight." He was heaving and you swore his eyes were clouding. Maul watched with his hands behind his back. Savage's eyes fluttered and he shook his head growling for a moment. He charged you but before he could collide, you stepped to the side, jumping up and giving him a strong spin kick to the head. Your attack was successful to a point, you impaled your foot on one of his horns.

    Not allowing yourself to cry out you took advantage of his stumble and attacked again, kicking him straight in the chest, forcing his body to collapse. He lay still under your foot, the tip of your saber inches from his face. Maul called out to you both.

"Well done. As usual, I have notes but you may congratulate yourself on your first win." Smiling confidently, you sheathed your weapon, removed your foot and extended your hand to the man you had grown close with.

    You and Savage became fast friends, you made him laugh hard with your quick wit and rather goofy sense of humor while he reassured you when you were feeling in over your head. He was much kinder than his appearance led most to believe. This fact alone was proof he had lived a very different life than that of his brother. He smiled up at you with pride as he took your hand but that smile disappeared quickly.

    His pupils dilated, his breath quickened and a deep groan you hadn't heard before erupted from his chest. Grinding his teeth, the grip on your hand tightened. Maul sensed what was going on and quickly strode over. Before he could reach you Savage pulled you down to him. He rolled so you were beneath him, caged by his massive body. You didn't recognize the eyes that he bore into yours. Usually soft and smooth like honey, now burned like hot twin suns.

    Before he could rip away your tunic Maul extended his hand and force pulled you over to him. Savage didn't hesitate to give chase roaring in frustration. Maul defensively wrapped an arm around your waist and twisted his body slightly so he stood between the two of you. He pulled you tightly to him and ignited his weapon to protect you from the monster his brother had become. Maul was fuming, teeth bared and snarling. His grip around you was bruising as if trying to pull you into himself. It was impossible not to smell him, that smokey, woody, sweet musk you had come to secretly favor and be comforted by. Distracted for only a second you snapped out of it. Fear taking over your body again at the sight of Savage who had devolved to an enraged animal.

    These were not the men you had come to know and admire. They were wild beasts. Your master murmured aggressively, "Savage... brother... control yourself." Giving him a chance. Ignoring his brother's warning Savage ignited his own weapon and lunged towards you. Blocking it with ease, Maul relinquished his hold around you and pushed you fully behind him keeping himself between you and Savage.

    You sat in disbelief at the events that unfolded in front of you. The two brothers raged against one another in a flurry of quick blows and ferocious roars. You ran towards the rancor you had ended up keeping and watched the battle from his back. You rubbed his head to sooth your frightened nerves as you took in the battle. Savage was sloppy but powerful and Maul was calculated, trying not to harm his brother permanently. They clashed until Maul landed a blunt blow with the hilt if his saber to Savage's jaw; knocking him unconscious. He wasted no time and hurriedly loaded his form onto the ship before addressing you.

"Stay with your beast, I will return to you before the day is over. Do not leave this place." He shouted, eyes damn near vibrating out of his head with fury. You nodded and watched as he flew off but not up to space rather, over somewhere.

 ~~~~~

      Maul could feel your heart break from the cockpit as he took flight. It was a pain he swore to himself you wouldn't have to feel as his apprentice. Betrayal. Destruction of trust, a pain he had known time and time again. An unnecessary one. He glared at his brother's unconscious body. It wasn't entirely his fault. He had been thrown head first into a powerful heat cycle. It was however his fault that he couldn't control it long enough to tell him so he could get him away from you. He wouldn't have let you spar him if he had known this was coming. An already physical and intimate act fueled his hormones. He cursed himself for putting you in that kind of harm’s way.

    Maul reached his destination. Out of the fog he could see Mother Talzin standing tall, as if awaiting their arrival. He greeted her first as Savage was still unconscious. She extended her arms toward Maul and spoke with an eerie vibrato.

"My son. I see you are in need of some assistance with your brother."

"Yes mother, he is experiencing an unusually brutal cycle and attacked our new companion. May I leave him in your and the sisters’ care."

"But of course. I'm sure there is a sister or two that would accept him in this state."

Nodding, Maul brought out his brother to find one of the pale sisters garbed in red already awaiting them with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"He will be delivered when his time is done." The sister hissed. "I sense this will be a long bout for him." Maul nodded hesitantly and left just as brother was waking up. The last thing he saw was Savage grab the woman before he disappeared.

His brow creased, eager to get back to you and assure himself that you were alright.

    When he arrived back at camp in the forest, he took a deep breath and disembarked. If the circumstances were different, he would have smiled at you. Your rancor was laying down with its enormous head on your legs, growling affectionately. With one hand you stroked what you could reach of its mighty jaw. You had pulled the hem of your master's tunic you still wore over your nose inhaling his scent deeply. You had tried to wash his smell out of it but never could, now you were thankful for that small detail. It comforted you in this moment while you told yourself not to cry. Sith don't cry.

Maul approached you treading lightly not knowing how to breech this conversation.

"My dear..."

   The rancor lifted his head snarling viciously at your master. He raised his brow as you slowly stood and placed both of your hands on the monster's face giving it an affectionate smooch. "Shh shh it's alright my sweet baby Angel." You cooed and hugged the beast you had hilariously named 'Angel'. Well, you and Savage thought it was funny at the time. You frowned at the memory but your tenderness appeased Angel. He laid his head back down and you turned to face your Master with shame. His heart panged as you wouldn't meet his eye for a moment.

"Please Y/N..." he begged. He didn't use your name often, usually referring to you simply as 'apprentice' or the ever-occasional changing pet names in more casual moments.

"That wasn't your fault. I'm sorry Savage attacked you. The nightsisters are taking care of him." You finally met his gaze with a snap at the sound of that. "You left him with them, after what they did to him?" Maul was surprised you came to his brother's defense.

"I assure you he gave no protest." Not realizing that his brother had confided in you. "And that he would rather be with them than to hurt you."

"I'm not ignorant." You interjected. "I read about Dathomirians on the holo-net shortly after coming here. I know he's in his heat cycle I just didn't... I didn't..."

"Expect it to be so violent?" Maul offered.

"Yeah... is it going to be like that every time? Are you going to get like that?" Your fists clenched and tears gathered on the bottom of your lashes but once again you fought them. Maul could feel your rage burning inside you like a furnace. He seethed at the idea of someone taking you like that. Let alone his own brother's intoxicated attempt.

    Maul extended his hand out to you. Remembering how closely he held you. How ruthlessly he defended and protected you, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you closer.

"If you know what the nightsisters did to him then you know he was gruesomely altered against his will... What you witnessed tonight is not how it usually is. It is controllable and I swear on my life I will never harm you in that way. I will separate him from us next time before it takes hold; I promise you. Please believe me."

    You looked into your master's eyes not knowing what to make of the care, of the softness he was showing you. He has never been cruel but ever so distant, professional even. He’s being so kind, so tender with you; his eyes screaming desperately for you to believe him.

"I believe you master."

    With an audible sigh of relief, he looked down and was reminded how you had wounded your foot during your fight. "I think we should take the rest of the day, get some food in you and get that cleaned."

"That sounds good."

    You turned around and limped your way back to a worried Angel, whispering something inaudible to your master's ears. The beast grunted in understanding and gave you a light bump with its head that almost sent you flying but did make you laugh. You watched as he walked off into the forest, disappearing into the fog.

    Maul guided you back to the ship with his hand on your lower back and into the fresher. He sat you down and knelt, taking the ankle of your injured foot delicately in his hand and dabbed a warm wet rag on it. You tried your best to stifle the blush but to no avail. He could feel your pulse quicken but didn't sense that it was fear so he ignored it.

"What was it that you said to the beast?"

Trying to lighten the mood you smiled, "His name is Angel." You stated matter-of-factly. "I could tell he was getting hungry so I told him to go hunt. I'm sure he will be back by morning." Maul contemplated what you said while diligently and softly tending your wound.

"I know I asked you to bring me a rancor but... why do you keep it around?"

    You thought about your answer for a moment because you felt like it would lead to another question. You decided to dive head first into the conversation.

"He's a good boy. When I found him he was in pain. I didn't understand how but I knew the other one caused him distress so to get them both to follow me back here I told them each I'd kill the other. I lied to one and told the truth to my Angel. I didn't 'force tame' them. I connected with them. Now he feels safe around me. Besides," you continued. "I like his company while I meditate."

    Maul thought about what you said and chuckled in a low tone. "For a Sith apprentice you sure do have a soft side. How do you manage that and keep such a strong connection to the darkness?"

    He lifted and examined the rest of your exposed leg to check for any other scratches. Your blush slightly deepened. "I'm not sure you want the answer to that question."

"Well, my curiosity was piqued but now I'm intrigued... Go on."

"I've felt the pull of the dark side of the force as long as I can remember and although my rage and fear did fuel it, so did my love, my determination, and in more ways than one, my utter joy." You paused because Maul had stopped and was looking at you. You continued, "as long as I've been able to feel it, it never felt evil or like hatred. It felt like passion. A blinding, all consuming passion and will to live on so I could feel more of it and everything that came with."

    That was not an answer that Maul had expected but he thought he understood. It was different for him but he accepted your answer and replied, "so that's why the jedi wouldn't take you and possibly why it's so strong within you. Every emotion you have fuels your power whether it's a positive one or a negative one... fascinating." He continued to wrap your foot while you stayed silent. "I'm not sure I've ever done anything kind."

   This statement caused you to burst into laughter. He gave you a confused and inquisitive look. "You do realize that while you say that you're tending my wound despite the fact that I could've done that myself easily. You also... oh I don't know... rescued me from slavery and protected me from Savage during his hormonal rampage. You've been incredibly kind.... at least in my opinion... you make me feel safe master... safer than I have in quite some time..."

Maul silently gulped, fighting the heat that spread across his cheeks. It was the only time in his life he was specifically thankful that his skin was crimson.

      Everything you had said to him that night continued to ring in his mind to the point he was tossing and turning. Knowing he wouldn't find sleep he made his way to the common room for a glass of water. That's where he found you, wrapped in his long black hooded cloak asleep in one of the chairs. He stared at you dumb-founded. Here was this beautiful woman, dressed in his tunic, wearing his cloak because he made her feel safe. Fuck he thought. She probably didn't want to sleep above Savage's bed tonight.

    He tried to think of something to do. He didn't really want to leave you there on the chair so he made a rash decision. He scooped you up into his arms and carried you to his bedroom. His hearts raced when you buried your face into his neck in your sleep. He laid you down as softly as he could and pulled the thin blanket over you.

    He crawled onto his side and lay facing away from you. Unease in his belly, wondering if you'd be angry at his purposeful attempt to be soothing. He closed his eyes and heard your voice in his mind. ‘You saved me... You've been incredibly kind... you make me feel safe.’ He never thought anyone could think like that about him. He rolled over and cautiously snaked his arm around your middle. To his secret delight he felt you wiggle back against him and murmur, "thank you master." Before your slow breathing continued signaling your fast return to sleep.

    Perhaps just for tonight he'd let himself enjoy something. He gripped you tighter and buried his face in your hair. Hoping against hope and all reason that somehow the sun wouldn't rise in the morning and he could stay like this as long as possible.

#star wars maul #darth maul #maul x y/n #maul x reader #sith reader #sith apprentice #sith warrior #starwars au #star wars

[angst-fairygodmother]

Taken Care Of (Derek x Reader)

A/N: I love a sick fic. It’s good, low-stakes hurt/comfort style fluff. The title was originally “Is it really love if he’s never seen you shoot snot rockets?” but since there was no actual said rockets, it seemed misleading. 

Apparently, also my writing is prophetic because I’m finishing this under feverish duress of some sort of cold (its 81 degrees, I’m wearing a hoodie, and I'm freezing. This is bullshit.)

Word Count: 2437

Rating: G - descriptions of illness (mostly pain, dizziness), crying and self-deprecation

For what will soon become obvious reasons, this is set pre-movie.

“Derek? What are you doing here?” you asked, crossing the school lobby quickly to greet him, your friends trailing behind a little slowly.

“Hey Baby Girl,” he said with a grin. “You've been so busy, I feel like I don't ever see you. I missed you,” he gave you that pout he was frustratingly good at, the one that made you melt like butter no matter what else was going on, as he laced his fingers between yours.

“So you decided to visit me at school?” As glad as you were to see him, part of you wished he hadn’t just shown up. This hadn’t been how you planned for him to be added to this part of your life, and it wasn’t exactly good timing. 

“I thought we could get lunch? I didn't know you'd be hangin out with your friends. Don't let me interrupt.”

His words nudged you, and you hastily made introductions. 

“Oh, so you're the mysterious Derek. I always knew Y/N had good taste,” Alli hummed, looking over him with a flirtatious hunger.

You felt your stomach clench at the look she gave him. It wasn’t quite jealousy, trusting him far too much for concern to ever cross your mind, but something like fear settled over you. Or maybe it was just the nausea you’d felt all week, you tried to tell yourself. Derek seemed to sense the tension you held in every part of your body, and gave your hand an affirming squeeze.

“I don't know about mysterious,” he chuckled, “Y/N reads me like an open book.”

Jen laughed. “Perfect answer,” she slung an arm over your shoulder with a grin. “I like him. Definitely approve.”

“Ladies,” Alexi said, interrupting on their way past. “As curious as we all are to meet and drool over the boy Y/N’s been keeping to herself, let her have him to herself.” 

They hooked their arms through the other two’s elbows who planted their feet and refused to be dragged away. You couldn’t help but laugh at your friends' antics, as tired and slightly embarrassed as you were. Derek was grinning at them, still holding your hand and keeping you tucked against him. 

“Wait wait,” Jen protested. “Y/N. You’re taking him to Aida’s right? You have to.” 

“I don’t know…” the smirk on Alli’s face continued to roil your stomach. “I’d just take him home.” 

“What’s Aida’s?” Derek asked, hiding his face in your hair, surprising you that he was actually embarrassed by your friends’ comments.

“Only the best food ever,” Alexi answered with a smile. “Y/N can tell you all about it on the way. Just do that cute thing and share a milkshake with two straws, or I’ll hunt you. Byyyye.” 

Giving up on pulling the others, they decided to push you two out the doors instead. Rather than dealing with more of their nonsense, you let yourselves leave, and stopped just out of range. 

“Aida’s is a place around the corner. Cheap. Definitely knows how to cater to the student crowd. Good food, pretty amazing milkshakes. And coffee has unlimited free refills in a two hour window.”

“Sounds great. I wanted to take you to lunch. Do you want to?”

“It’s no big deal,” you shrugged. “I go there all the time. We should do something special, since you came all this way.” 

“Y/N. You know I don’t care about that. I’m happy anywhere you decide. Besides,” he leaned closer to purr in your ear, words like honey sending a shiver down your spine, “I want to know all your places.”

“You’re terrible. Maybe another time. It’s a longer walk but...I’m feeling ramen?”

“Lead the way.”

You felt your steps dragging as you and Derek walked, trying your best to hide it from your boyfriend. Your lungs burned despite the walk normally being well within manageable, and several times you stumbled, doing your best to stay upright in the wake of a wave of exhaustion.

“I know you wanted to get lunch,” you said suddenly, pausing, “but can't we just get to-go and go back to my place? I’m pretty tired, and I really don't…I was just hoping for a nap before work tonight.”

He caught your hesitation and frowned. “Baby, what's wrong?”

“Nothing. I just...haven't been feeling myself for a couple of days. It's been a hard semester, that's all. The walk’s making it hit me a little.”

Derek stopped, turning to face you, eyes tracing over your face. No doubt he was taking in the deep, almost bruise-colored bags under your eyes that were only sort of hidden by your makeup. Or maybe it was the glossy sheen behind them. Once he had spotted one, the other signs started to jump at him: your fever-flushed cheeks and discolored skin, your dry, cracked lips, the slump of your shoulders, even your unusually loose and ill-fitted clothing. 

You watched his jaw working as he struggled to contain whatever thought was on the tip of his tongue.

“Go ahead and say it,” you said with a sigh, throat burning with the exaggerated airflow.

“Say what?”

“Whatever you’re holding back.”

“Baby girl, you look awful,” his tone was flat and his face apologetic. 

You tried to laugh, but it came out in more of a wet cough that made you wince, partially from the feeling, but mostly from the look he now wore.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I’m not. It’s just a little cold,” you protested, the argument weakened by another coughing fit, this one hitting harder and leaving you wheezing. The fit, or the way you swayed, dizzy and unsteady as the blood rushed back out of your head when it was over, seemed to be the last straw.

“That’s it,” he said, tone serious and sharp. “We’re going to my mom’s and she and I are gonna take care of you.”

“But--”

“Nope. You lost your protest privileges.” He was already steering you back in the opposite direction of where you were headed. “You can call Nino and tell him you won’t be in while I drive.”

“I don’t want to rob you of lunch,” you tried to fight anyway, voice weak and throat raw.

“I’ll eat somethin at home. I can’t believe you’re still tryin to...” he shook his head, muttering fondly about stubborn Irish pains in the ass. 

~

After begrudgingly making the call to Nino, who sounded shocked but completely forgiving, you decided on one last ditch effort to escape admitting to and dealing with being sick. 

‘Help I’m being held hostage!’ you texted Sean. 

His response came only a moment later. ‘What??????!’ 

‘Your stupid bestfriend is making me admit I’m sick and keeping me from going to work.’

‘He’ A second text came through a moment later. ‘Good.’

‘WHAT? You’re my cousin, you’re supposed to be on my side. Rescue me. Before he sics his mother on me.’

There was a long pause, more than you thought Sean should need to respond. When the message finally came through, you couldn’t help glaring at the screen.

‘I’d rather fight an actual bear than Ma Sandoval.’

‘Ah. So you’re in on it. I see how it is. Your betrayal will not be forgotten.’

‘Feel better soon.’ He added a smile to the end, and you could practically see it as his signature smirk.

‘I hate you.’ 

You sighed, shoving your phone back in your pocket and slumped down in the seat. You closed your eyes, hoping that it would combat the movement of the car and the effect it was having on your headache. You were frustrated at Derek for making you admit something was wrong (even though you knew really that he was right to) and at the fact that it seemed like the minute you admitted it, the symptoms seemed to get immediately worse. 

The next thing you knew, you were stirred from a light doze by a change in movement. Instead of the steady, rocking vibration of the car and the smooth, cool feeling of the glass under your cheek, you were pressed close against something warm and solid, bobbing in a more natural, if uneven, rhythm. Your mind was sluggish but after a moment, and a soft, familiar chuckle as you buried your face into him to escape the sun in your eyes, you realized that it was because Derek was carrying you, bridal-style across the lawn and into his house. 

You suppressed an involuntary whine and the urge to cling to him as he settled you down in his bed. Heavy blankets that smelled like him were pulled up around your shoulders, the sudden warmth making you realize how cold you’d been.

“Not sick my ass,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “Get some sleep baby girl.” 

The door clicked quietly behind him and you let the comfortable darkness pull you back under.

~

Some unknown time later, there was a knock that pulled you out of strange, feverish dreams and you croaked something that you hoped sounded like come in, squinting against the light that poured through behind the person.

“Y/N, you should wake up for a little while,” Derek’s mother said, flicking on a bedside lamp. “I made you soup.” 

You pushed yourself up into a seated position and smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you Mrs. Sandoval.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, you are dating my son, you at least call me Ma. Just like everyone else.”

“Sorry,” you looked down bashfully, the word tasting foreign in your mouth. “Ma.” 

“Why are you not taking care of yourself?” she tutted as she set the bowl down and sat on the edge of the bed. “You are so busy trying to be able to be a fancy lawyer and change the world but you can’t do that if you drop dead. And of a little cold?” 

“I--”

“And you made Derek worry.” She placed a wrist against your forehead to check your temperature. “He’s going to fret over you forever, now. It’s how he shows his love. I hurt my back a few years ago, and still he is ‘Mami you shouldn’t reach so high, Mami let me get that for you, Mami don’t carry so many heavy groceries.’ Imagine when you have children. They won’t be able to scrape a knee. If your doctor doesn’t put you on bed rest, he will.”

Her words made you choke on the food you had just sipped into your mouth, sending you into a coughing fit that left you short of breath.

“See, you wouldn’t be doing that if you said you were sick to begin with.”

“I just...thought if I took some cold medicine, it would go away on its own. I’ve been so busy. And I didn’t...want anyone to worry, or think anyone would care?” you admitted sheepishly, looking down at the soup in your lap and the blanket over your legs and trying not to think too hard about what you were telling her.

“Mija, look at me,” she said firmly but kindly. When you didn’t follow her instruction, she used a hand to tilt your head up. “You have family now. You don’t have to do everything alone. Now eat  your soup.”

The sentiment, and the matter-of-fact way she delivered it, broke down a dam inside you, and suddenly you were crying, and she was hugging you, rubbing small circles on your back with one hand while the other cradled your head against her. You wanted to attribute your overwhelmed feelings to being sick, but in your heart you knew: it was a kind of acceptance and love that you had never expected, especially from someone who didn’t even have to like you. 

After sitting like that for several long minutes, letting you sob and offering you comfort, she shifted back to nurse-mode. 

“You need more fluids, not letting them all out through your eyes. Eat your soup, and I’ll go make you tea,” she said, nudging you back to rest against the headboard and standing. 

You laughed wetly and tried again to thank her, only to have it waved away.

~

“How is she?” Derek asked, almost as soon as he walked through the door a few hours later.

His mother laughed, shaking her head wryly. “She will survive. Just needs to rest for a few days. It’s a cold.”

“That’s like asking the tide to take a few days off,” he chuckled, until his mother fixed him with a glare. 

“Maybe if you told her the truth about how you felt, and she didn’t feel like she was on her own trying to be everything, she would.”

“Ma that’s not--”

“Derek Michael Sandoval, do not argue with me,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “You have been telling me for weeks now how much you love this girl, and it is obvious to a blind saint. Yet she is sick and doesn’t tell anyone because she thinks it would be a burden no one would want. Now what would give her that idea?”

Derek felt his stomach twist guiltily. It was true that he hadn’t told you he loved you, even though he was completely certain he did. But he thought it was for your benefit, to not scare you off by pushing too hard. He had never considered that it might be making things worse. He opened his mouth, looking for an answer to give his mother and found that he couldn’t get any words out. Instead, he just looked at her helplessly. 

She rolled her eyes. “You are both so stupid.”

~

You were fast asleep when he slipped through the door, and as he got ready for bed as quietly as possible, he kept finding himself stopping to look down at you. You were burrowed deep in the blankets, wrapped in one of his hoodies in addition as the fever made you shiver. You looked so small and fragile and vulnerable there in his bed, and his chest ached with a need to protect you, a desire for taking care of you and loving to be his entire purpose in life for the rest of his life and it nearly knocked him on his ass. 

As he slid under the covers beside you, you seemed to cuddle closer instinctively, and he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “And I know you can’t hear me right now, but baby girl, I promise, I’m gonna make sure you know, soon.”

#it wouldn't be me if it wasn't a little angsty #but mostly it's cute I think? #and more than a little cheesy #also guest starring Ma Sandoval because Moms make everything better #sick fic #Derek Sandoval x reader #Bad Samaritan fic #this ended up in a different direction than I intended but one I really like #I'm gonna go die now. goodnight #(coincidentally posted on Carlito's and thus Derek's birthday) #so that's fun

[maatryoshkaa]

young god | chapter 13

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 3.5k

warnings: foul language, implied sexual assault, mentions of trauma and mental illness

description: Yang Jeongin, the only living witness of the Miroh Heights Murders, is finally awake, casting a new shadow of possibilities onto the entire investigation. Han Jisung knows deep down there’s only one place left to go,  and takes his chances with a familiar blond detective -- but they find that where chances are given, lives may be taken away.

watch the trailer here!

13| give and take.

They say when you have a close brush with death, you see your life flash before your eyes.

Jeongin supposed there was some truth to that. One moment he had been squinting at the golden-haired boy in the darkness; the next he had found himself collapsed against the forest floor. The sky had spun above him like a broken kaleidoscope, until the unbearably hot throbbing in his head had finally forced his eyes shut. He had felt the strength seeping from his limbs, like blood being drained from livestock, and had let the numbness wash over him like an icy tidal wave.

That was when Jeongin’s life had flashed behind his closed eyelids — choppy flashes of memories and people’s voices, warped and dizzying. 

“Life in prison?” Jeongin’s own voice sounded tinny in his ears, and his father gave him a sad smile on the other side of the plexiglass. “B-but all you did was—”

“A man lost his life because of me,” his father spoke slowly, eyes steady on Jeongin’s distraught face. Slow, steady, careful. Kind. That was how Jeongin had always known his father — a gentle man who wouldn’t hurt a fly — yet now he was sitting across from him in an inmate’s uniform, handcuffs locked tight around his wrists. 

“But he—he hurt Mum first,” Jeongin whispered, barely able to push the words out of his throat. “He—you said he—”

“He did.” His father’s face had darkened, his normally soft jaw clenched. “I...lost it, and what happened to him was what that bastard deserved — but nothing changes the fact that I...killed him.” He let out a deep, weary sigh, and Jeongin was suddenly struck by how much older his father looked. “He got his punishment for his sins one way, and now I’m paying for mine. It’s as simple as that, my boy.”

The buzzer sounded and the door behind him clicked open, a stone-faced officer stepping into the room as his father stood. “Take good care of your mother, would you?”

“Dad, if—” Jeongin’s shaking voice made his father turn back around. The question was odd, but it had been burning at the back of his mind since the beginning of the visit. “If you—had the chance to go back. Would you still have...done it?”

Silence fell between father and son like a curtain. His father inhaled deeply, raising his eyebrows before meeting his son’s eyes again. “I don’t doubt it,” he finally replied, voice soft. “What could I do? It was for someone I loved.”

From then on, Jeongin’s mother had spent the better years of her life working whatever job she could find, and the two of them lived off minimum wage and money sent by estranged relatives — until the poor woman had finally fallen ill. No one would hire a sickly old woman — especially not one that had been involved in a sexual assault case, all those years ago.

That was why Jeongin worked with four different delivery companies at a time; that was what he could never bring himself to tell Hyunjin or you. Work four jobs, graduate, and make proper money to pay his mother’s hospital bills, to dig himself out of the poverty he’d known his entire life. Yang Jeongin’s one-way, masterplan. Until…

The coma.

He had become almost comfortably numb, like a body submerged in the middle of a pond — yet occasionally, something would pull him above the surface, even if just for a brief moment. A voice, a pressure, a light. It was almost always Hyunjin, the soft-hearted barista talking to him about his day as if Jeongin had simply sat down to chat in Glow Cafe, not rendered immobile and unresponsive by a concussion. Sometimes, though, the older boy would be crying, silent sobs shaking his lean frame until he was so exhausted he’d fall asleep by Jeongin’s side. And Jeongin wanted nothing more than to reach out to reassure him, to pull his friend into a hug, but he couldn’t will his body to move no matter how hard he tried.

Until now.

An incessant high-pitched beeping was growing louder and louder, the tips of his fingers prickling. Jeongin’s heartbeat surged into his temples, pounding against his eardrums like fists demanding entry. The darkness behind his eyelids was shifting, pinpricks of light poking their way in — and like a breath of air had been knocked straight into his lungs, Jeongin felt his entire body lurch forward and his eyes shot open.

For several seconds he could only take deep, gasping breaths, obsessed with just the feeling of it all, vaguely registering the inhaler pressed against his mouth. His eyes were still adjusting, flashes of white light and black stars painting his blurry vision. There were shouts from all around him, a deep rumbling as everything seemed to shake.

It was as if the entire sky was falling above him, he thought vaguely.

He blinked, hard, and his vision finally focused, the incongruous voices and sounds growing clearer. The incessant beeping had been the heart monitor by his cot, keeping in time with his gasping breathing. And the yelling was coming from none other than Hwang Hyunjin, whose dark hazel eyes were wide with disbelief and already brimming with tears of shock.

“J-Jeongin? He’s — he’s awake,” the taller boy nearly tripped getting to his feet, yanking aside the curtains and disappearing from Jeongin’s sight. “He’s awake!”

Jeongin winced, a throbbing pressure beginning to press at his skull. His fingers twitched twice and he flexed them gingerly. Suddenly remembering, his hands weakly scrabbled for his pockets, desperately feeling for a familiar metal box but coming back empty. 

His Walkman was gone.

The deep rumbling passed by him again and he realised it was the sound of carts full of medical equipment speeding across the halls — like there had been yet another emergency. Jeongin could only make out some of what the hospital staff were saying as they rushed past.

“Stab wound to the chest...brought her in...no sight of him.”

Jagged fragments of his memory were coming back to him, the empty feeling in his chest beginning to fill with a sinking sense of dread. The strange boy. A dismembered corpse.

What on earth happened while I was out?

━━━━━━━━ 

Run.

Jisung’s feet slammed into the pavement, puddles splashing cold rainwater onto his bloodstained jeans.

“He’s a runner, that’s what he is.”

His chest was burning, ribs feeling as if they were closing in on his lungs. He could still feel your warm body pressed against his, widened eyes fluttering shut as he could only watch in horror. With strength Jisung didn’t know he had left, he had carried you in his arms and bolted into the alley just as the police had turned into the diner’s back lot. The hospital was only a block away. He had burst into the lobby, nearly collapsing as he shouted for someone, anyone to help — and nearby, stunned doctors had loaded you onto an empty gurney before whisking you into the emergency room. Once they returned, Jisung was long gone.

“You ran away from her, too, yeah?”

The gang’s taunting voices echoed in his head, the sky rumbling above him — just like how his father’s voice had always rumbled, shaking the thin walls of his childhood home. And now, Jisung was ten years old all over again, clutching his camcorder in his bloodstained hands.

There had been a fine layer of dust coating the dented metal when Jisung had seized it from his dorm closet. Just touching the metal made his hands slippery with cold sweat, but he forced himself to grip it harder, counting the memory cards before he took off. Running, one last time.

“Try running now, Han.”

He wasn’t running away.

If he wanted to reverse the horrible things he’d done, there was only one place left to go.

“Han Jisung, always running away.”

“Not this time,” Jisung breathed through gritted teeth, almost welcoming the way the falling rain burned at his eyes and nostrils. “Not anymore.”

━━━━━━━━

Bang Chan didn’t realize how long he had been pacing the room until his feet began to ache in protest.

The detective hadn’t left the police precinct since Woojin had called him over, the pair pulling out files and chasing leads from dawn till dusk. Kim Seungmin had popped in for several hours before he had been called back to the law office. The moon had come and gone, until telltale sirens sounded not long after noon, and Woojin was called onto the scene of yet another emergency.

Another hour or so had passed since then, and Chan was replaying the same conversation with the police chief over and over in his head.

“I didn’t want to believe it, Chan, but from the beginning I had this—this feeling—”

“A hunch,” Chan finished, and when the police chief looked hesitant, Chan continued, “is almost always based on something more concrete, whether you know it or not. Something familiar, or strange. We’ve hit all the dead ends; a hunch is one of the better things we can hope for right now.”

Woojin exhaled, then spoke slowly. “The victims’ backgrounds, how they’ve all had pasts connected to abuse, or adultery. Not to mention the modus operandi that stood out the most — you remember the fire, and numerous counts of brute force.”

“I thought something was familiar, too,” Seungmin had interjected, his brow furrowing. “I studied this...case back in law school — a shotgun marriage, their young son growing up in an abusive household, until one day —”

“The house went up in flames,” Woojin finished, nodding. “It’s the same case, the most infamous amongst domestic abuse cases in Miroh Heights. The names were withheld for privacy reasons. Though the case was closed over a decade ago...the accuracy of the final verdict, and the true events that transpired that night, are still unknown.”

“Victims of cold cases often reappear as suspicious persons,” Chan muttered. “It’s a reach, but if you look at the similarities...”

“We’ve been blindsided this entire time,” Seungmin said slowly, his fingers raking through his hair. “Not a substance abuser, quite possibly not a cold-blooded killer.” He looked up at Woojin, whose brow was furrowed in deep thought. “So if your hunch is correct, then—”

“This is the aftereffect of a cold domestic violence case from over a decade ago,” the young police chief said firmly, eyes flickering up to Chan. “And we can’t afford to let it slip away again.”

Something had been pricking at the back of the detective’s head since Woojin had begun talking — no, far before he had even arrived at the police station. Chan had always been known for having a quick mind; it was one of the things that separated him from other, more mediocre detectives in his field — but this time, something was blocking him from reaching the final conclusion. He didn’t lack evidence; there were no flaws in his logic. It was the horrible feeling of familiarity that made him choke, that forced him to hesitate. Because he knew this case, he had seen it before.

“And it’s not a reach, Detective,” Woojin continued, voice gentle but eyes firm. “Because I believe you know the story yourself.”

Seungmin turned towards Chan, eyes questioning. The detective shook his empty coffee cup in his hands, eyes skirting over the countless case files and papers they had been sifting through for hours.

“The perpetrator is—”

A blond boy burst into the dimly lit room, breathing so hard Chan thought he was about to have a stroke. It didn’t take longer than a second for the detective to recognise him.

“Han Jisung,” Chan finished the flashback aloud, the name hanging in the tense air. His eyes scanned the shaking boy from head to toe, a cold feeling running down his spine. He wasn’t even trying to hide the blood soaking his clothes and skin, Chan thought numbly. This was his friend, someone he’d always looked at like a little brother—but he had seen, solved too many of these cases not to recognise the stricken look on Jisung’s pale face.

This was the shell of a man who had just lost everything.

“What brings you here?” Chan asked, watching him carefully. The same tousled golden hair, he noted, pushing down a pang in his chest; the same boyish round cheeks, although there was a smattering of bruises and cuts across them now. 

“You told me I—I could talk to you or Woojin. Anytime.” Jisung’s voice faltered, wiping at his face as if to clear away some of the muck, but the dried blood on his palms only smeared more across his jaw. He looked like a lost dog, a stray that had turned up on the nearest warm doorstep and was watching him with almost apologetic, apprehensive eyes.

Chan set down his notebook, nodding slowly. “That I did,” he finally replied, glancing back up at the younger boy before pulling out two chairs. “Woojin got called to a scene, though. You okay if I listen for now?”

Jisung felt a flood of indescribable emotions wash over him. The same twist in his gut he had felt back at the 3rd Eye, when the Chan had pulled him close and asked if he was okay. 

I’ll listen. 

That was more than anyone had ever offered him since the incident thirteen years ago. The therapists, the police, the social workers — all they had ever wanted was for him to listen to them, to heed their advice and bury his past behind him.

Other than you, of course. The memory of your fading eyes burning into his own shook him back to the present. 

“I think you know, Chan,” Jisung said softly, marking the way the detective was warily scanning the blood covering him from head to toe; the dishevelled look Jisung must have had on his face.

“I have a hunch,” was the detective’s reply. He sounded as if he were repeating someone else’s words, but his voice was steady as it had ever been. “But you’re going to need to help me on this one, kiddo.”

Jisung met the older boy’s eyes — Chan’s always tired but unfailingly kind eyes, always willing to give the benefit of the doubt. Maybe that was what made him such a meticulous detective, respected by criminals and citizens alike — never jumping to conclusions, always seeing a problem out till the end. The detective’s gaze dropped to the silver camcorder in Jisung’s hands. 

“You used to carry that around everywhere you went, I remember. Never showed anyone what you’d film, though.”

“Do you have...anything that can play memory cards?” Jisung swallowed a painful lump in his throat. “I need to—show you. Now.”

Wordlessly, Chan moved his laptop over on the table, and made the younger boy take a seat next to him.

Jisung had always thought his past was something to be kept buried — below the ashes of his childhood home, or six feet under his mother’s grave, or bottled deep within his chest. That no one would ever truly know — would want to know — what had happened that day, let alone what had been happening for the years leading up to that day. And yet, for the second time in two days, he was sat next to someone who, to his surprise, didn’t make him want to run. Someone he was willing to take the risk of revealing the darkest parts of himself with. 

For the next hour, Chan watched the footage in silence, from the very first Christmas to the day Jisung’s father’s mistress had pressed burning cigarettes into his bare skin. From the fateful day their entire home was brought to the ground with alcohol and fire at the hands of a ten year old boy, and to the choppy records from the years that followed. Jisung had taped his encounters with the incompetent officers and dismissive social workers at the police station, and the mandatory therapy sessions they had subjected him to. He had taped the kidnapping, and his years at the children’s home with Minho. 

He had not taped any of the killings.

Chan sat through it all, reliving Jisung’s nightmares the way the younger boy had every night for the past thirteen years, an ugly childhood told through the fisheye lens of an old camcorder. By the time the last tape had finished, the detective had not moved, but Jisung knew him well enough to catch the tension in his jaw, the shaken look in his normally bright eyes. 

“You were the cold case,” Chan finally said, a long exhale leaving his now-dry lips. “From thirteen years ago. The one they couldn’t solve, and swept under the rug.”

Jisung didn’t respond, too busy forcing every inch of his body to remain still — to not stand and sprint out of the room, out of the police station he had been avoiding his entire life.

“Why are you telling me this?” The detective asked, turning his body to face the younger boy.

“Because I—I killed—all those people,” Jisung wove his hand towards the files Chan had splayed onto the desk, the headshots of victims lying at the very top. The words were heavier than weights in his mouth, and and the truth of it all tasted more bitter than poison. “And then I—I couldn’t stop. I sound insane, I know I do. I know I p-probably am. They were—flashes at first. Triggers, seizures that went too far. And soon it became like--like an impulse, until I started blacking out completely—” Jisung’s breathing caught up to him and he choked, but he managed to force the last words out. “And today, I...hurt...y/n.” He saw the alarm flash across Chan’s eyes. “The last person who made me hope...made me want to hope that life was worth living, after all.”

He sounded insane.

He sounded like a serial killer trying to make excuses for something inexcusable.

He sounded like a monster.

“You sound like you’ve been through a lot.” Chan’s voice made Jisung look up from his shoes. The soft look in his eyes was back, and though a bit of the blood had drained from his face, the warmth in his voice had never left. “Thank you. For telling me.”

That was the final blow.

“S-stop. Don’t—say that,” Jisung could feel his voice breaking, the tears burning at his throat. “Chan, you have to turn me in, make them give me the death penalty, I-I—”

“Han Jisung.” The detective’s voice was stern, his normally gentle eyes narrowed. “You turned yourself in. The case from thirteen years ago needs to be reopened, and all the factors reinvestigated to be fairly taken into account. You do not deserve the death penalty.”

Jisung was shaking his head numbly, lips unable to form protests as the detective continued, a blazing look in his eyes Jisung had never seen before. “You’re not gonna be a martyr now, you hear? Han Jisung, you’ve been hurt by everyone else your whole damn life. I’m not about to let you hurt yourself.”

There it was again. That feeling of unfamiliar warmth aching deep in his chest, like an old bruise being pressed into. Before Jisung could speak, a slow, sarcastic clapping echoing through the room made both of them raise their heads and turn in alarm.

Prosecutor Kang pushed the door aside, eyebrows raised in amusement and mock sympathy. 

“What are—you can’t—” Chan leapt up from his seat, but Kang only looked more amused as he looked over his shoulder at the open doorway, where a huddle of prosecutors and police officers alike were gathered with expressions of horror. Seungmin was among them, his face white.

“You all heard him, didn’t you? Detain the murderer.” Kang smiled triumphantly as the officers surrounded Jisung, seizing his arms so roughly he felt like they were being pulled from their sockets. 

Chan looked livid, eyes darting wildly between the officers and Prosecutor Kang. “Let him go. Keep him in the precinct until Woojin comes back, Kang,” he protested, but the older prosecutor only sneered.

“Detective Bang, aren’t you overstepping your boundaries? Wait for Kim Woojin? Don’t forget—” Kang took a step closer to Chan, eyes narrowing. “Personal relations with the perpetrator cannot participate in the investigation.”

Chan felt his gut twist, scanning the whitened expressions on the surrounding staff’s faces. How much had they seen, overheard? Kang watched the detective’s eyes flicker momentarily, and laughed.

“Besides,” he continued, “I’d say it’s time the prosecution did its part.” He shot a meaningful glance at Seungmin, who had been glaring between Jisung, Chan, and Kang with his fists clenched. Kang clicked his tongue, sighing. “Kim Seungmin, Kim Seungmin — I can’t believe I have to do your dirty work.”

Chan’s mind was reeling, all options coming back blank. This was the District 9 Precinct, and as a homicidal detective, he had no power over Woojin’s men. In fact, after what Kang had said, Chan wasn’t even sure if Woojin had power over Woojin’s men anymore. You fucked up, Bang. You fucked up bad.

Chan risked a glance at Jisung’s face and immediately regretted it. What he saw had no traces of anger, no more hate, no signs of struggle. His eyes were wide and dark, as if the boy had shut down completely. Kang scoffed at the detective’s sudden silence, turning on his heel and motioning towards the officers. 

Chan could only watch helplessly as Jisung was dragged out of the room like a limp doll, his once-rounded cheeks still shining with blood and fresh tears.

#han jisung #stray kids #skz #stray kids series #bang chan #kim woojin #kim seungmin #seo changbin #lee felix #lee know #lee minho #yang jeongin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids boyfriend #stray kids yandere #stray kids au #stray kids angst #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #han jisung imagines #han jisung angst #han jisung yandere #han jisung boyfriend #serial killer!AU #han jisung au #maatryoshkaa

[pandoraborn]

Cruelty of the Beast - Part 16

( previous. )

-----

Characters: c!Puffy, c!Phil, c!Techno, c!Dream Word count: 1776 Content: blood, violence, mention of war, brief family reunion, major character death, grief

-----

Puffy scours the ‘battlefield’. There are already explosions being set off around her, with buildings being destroyed. In the days between Quackity finding Tommy and now, she has to wonder if they’d snuck back to plant more TNT.

Or had they come beforehand?

Around her, people are screaming and running. People she wouldn’t normally give a second glance to, but she recognizes a few of them, in varying states of panic and anger. Niki goes flying past her with an iron sword, and Hbomb is following behind, shouting for everyone to follow him.

Puffy considers joining the pair, but she marches along the prime path, wincing at every explosion happening nearby. She doesn’t know where Tubbo or Quackity are, and she has no idea where Sam went. 

Puffy hopes her friends are safe.

The dragon is a lot closer now, and Puffy’s starting to realize how big it actually is. Dread pools in her stomach, causing her to stop and stare up at the sky. Everything else is background noise for a split second, as all she can see are those menacing purple eyes, and the purple fog that the dragon breathes out.

When someone jostles her, Puffy lurches forward and turns to see who is next to her. It’s Phil. Phil’s already armed with a sword, though he’s using his hand to push her back.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Puffy,” Phil says. “But that dragon doesn’t discriminate.”

Reaching into her inventory, Puffy immediate dons her armor. It’s all iron, as she hadn’t had a chance to craft netherite yet. She keeps her gaze on Phil though, watching every movement.

Her sword though, that’s made of netherite. Pulling that out next, Puffy lifts her sword, pointing the tip in his direction while also stepping back. “I’m not running,” she insists. “You’re all insane, you know that?”

Phil merely grins. “I was trying to give you a chance,” he responds. “I’m more than happy to cause chaos. Done it before, doing it again.”

“Haven’t you done enough damage?” Puffy asks. “The last time you caused this much damage, we lost an entire country. Your son built that!”

“My son?” Phil tilts his head to the side, letting a brief silence settle over them. “Correct my memory here if I’m mistaken. You were there at the prison the day Dream broke out, right? Tommy and Ranboo both said everyone was there.”

“Do not talk to me about Tommy!” Puffy snaps. “You all hurt him, over and over again!”

“Were you or were you not there?”

“I want you all to take your dragon and leave us alone,” Puffy says stubbornly. “We did nothing to you.”

“Anyway.” He’s speaking as if she hadn’t said anything. “You all watched Wilbur exit the prison. Wil, who worked with Dream long before his death, long before the revolution. They were apparently in cahoots when Pogtopia was operational. This wasn’t my idea.”

“You can’t blame Wilbur for that,” Puffy snaps. “He wasn’t in his right mind! He needed help and no one was-”

She cuts herself off there. Something is shifting into place in her mind, and she doesn’t like what conclusion she’s reaching. Rather than dwell on it, she drops her sword and attempts to do something she probably shouldn’t:

She lunges for Phil with her fist. She should have remembered that Phil is far older than her, with far more practice, and far more allies on his side that the last time he set off explosives. He’s side stepping her, and within a blink, he’d moved behind her, twisting her arm behind her back.

Struggling against his grip, Puffy starts swearing loudly. “Let me go! I swear I won’t hesitate to kill you!”

“You really think you can kill him with your bare hands?” That voice isn’t Phil’s, it’s Techno’s. He steps within her line of sight, smiling wildly. He looks wild, eyes far too wide, smile too big with too many teeth showing. This is clearly his idea of a fun time, and Puffy nearly recoils.

“I can sure as hell try,” she mutters through clenched teeth. “After what all of you did to Tommy, I’d love to see all of you burn in your own dragon’s magic breath.”

Techno starts laughing. “You think Tommy was being held against his will or we dragged him here kicking and screaming?”

Puffy wants to hold onto the mental image of Tommy. Sweet, obnoxious Tommy who always had a witty retort ready and a fire in his eyes. She wants to still hold out hope that Tommy will return to her. Them.

“This was Tommy’s idea,” Techno continues. “ See, he was pissed about Quackity shooting him with an arrow. Sure, it was an accident, but you know what they say about a broken person with nothing left to lose.”

She doesn’t want to hear any more. This is slander. Techno had always hated Tommy, she’s sure of it. Rather than lash out verbally, Puffy kicks her leg up, hoping to hit Techno right in the jaw. She wants to see him stagger back in pain.

Unfortunately, a third hand grabs at her leg and holds it in place. Techno backs up, still grinning wildly, though now he’s staring at the newcomer. With a frustrated scream, she tries to wretch her leg from the person’s grasp, only for them to squeeze her ankle hard enough to almost hurt.

“Hello Mother Duck,” comes the voice. This stops Puffy. Going limp against Phil, she stares out at the person attached to the hand. It’s Dream. He’s wearing his usual outfit; the bright green shirt, black pants, and instead of wearing his mask properly, it’s resting against the side of his head.

“Dream,” she says softly. “Dream, what have you done?” Tears fill her eyes. This is the first time she’s seen him since...since before Tommy was released from exile. She had thought she moved past him, but seeing him now brings tears to her eyes.

“Is it cool if I call you mom?” he asks. “I know that we’re not officially family, but you did kind of adopt me. I wanted to check up on things.” Dream’s wearing a more serene smile. He doesn’t look like a maniacal villain, he looks like her duckling: peaceful, happy, and calm.

For a second, Puffy almost believes. She can almost believe that the world around her isn’t going up in flames, and that there isn’t a dragon attacking the SMP. Right now, it’s just a mother duck and her duckling, reuniting at last.

“What have you done?” Her voice sounds foreign to her own ears, filled with despair. The world comes back into focus, and behind her, she can hear someone scream.

“What I should have done ages ago,” Dream says casually. Bending down, he picks up her sword. “The problem wasn’t L’Manburg.” Dream scoffs. “The problem wasn’t the countries or the buildings or even Tommy. Tommy wasn’t the one who brought attachments, all of you did. All of you were so selfish about everything. From buildings to random items, even pets. It became a cluster fuck of everyone blaming everyone else, and people kept getting forgotten or left behind.”

“You messed up the most!” Phil’s grip on her loosens enough for her to straighten up. Puffy wants nothing more than to take Dream into her arms and hold him close. She also wants to drive a sword through her stomach. “You hurt the most people, you have to pay!”

“Believe me, Mother Duck, I am paying. I’ve been paying for it, and I’ve decided I’m tired of paying for it. Which is why we’re here.”

“I’m going to stop you,” she replies flatly. “It’s my duty.”

“It was your duty to protect people, and you did a lousy job at that.” Dream spins the sword in his hands. “Believe me when I say I do love you. For a brief time, we had a happy family, until you replaced me with Foolish.”

Her blood chills. “Don’t touch Foolish.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Everyone’s going to suffer, he’s not special.” Dream continues to wear that same smile, almost matching the mask he’s wearing. “But sometimes things have to be done a certain way in order to achieve our goals. You of all people know that.”

“Dream...” She’s pleading with him now. Begging for him to come back, begging for him to instruct Phil to let her go. She almost misses that Techno had already left somewhere during this conversation.

“I’ll tell Tommy you thought off him. Phil, step back.”

The pressure on her immediately leaves. Nearly falling back, Puffy stumbles to keep her balance before facing Dream again, arms dangling at her sides. She’s confused on what Dream meant, in regards to Phil, but the answer-

-oh.

She has on diamond armor. It’s meant to protect her, it’s meant to help her when there’s danger nearby. But somehow, Dream had managed to find the cracks in the armor, the tiny little exposures. It was enough that he rammed her own sword through her stomach.

Puffy stares down, unable to talk. She’s unable to comprehend why she’s bleeding, but feels no pain. Confusion blots out all coherent thought, and instead, stares at her duckling.

Is it her imagination, or is Dream crying? Are those tears streaming down his face, or are they tears blurring her own vision?

It doesn’t matter, anymore.

When he yanks the sword back, she falls forward. Puffy’s jumbled thoughts are of the people she’s come to love: Foolish, Bad, Tommy, Eret. Sam. They all held a special meaning to her, and were all lovely people.

Niki. She’d cared for Niki in a special kind of way. More intimate, even if toward the end they barely spoke. She’d miss seeing Niki’s smile.

And Dream...

Dream’s arms around her, catching her fall. His arms slowly lowering her to the ground, his arms cradling her, wiping blood from her mouth.

“Duckling...” Puffy tries to reach for him, but she’s so, so tired now. It doesn’t hurt anymore. It didn’t really hurt to begin with. Dream’s holding her and crying, and Phil’s somewhere to the right of Dream.

“I’ll see you soon,” Dream says gently. He kisses her forehead, and then leaves her. She’s laying on the cold ground and watches as he and Phil walk away.

With the remaining strength she has left, Puffy turns her gaze to the sky, just in time to see the dragon fly overhead. The dragon breathes down on her, encasing her with the most beautiful purple haze she’d ever seen. The last thing she’ll ever see.

And the war rages on.

#dream smp #dream smp fanfic #dark!fic #cruelty of the beast #cruelty of the beast ch. 16 #captain puffy #philza #dreamwastaken #technoblade #blood #violence #major character death #grief #long post #miishae writes

[alia-turin]

Extra special kudos to @golden-olea, I hope I did it justice, if not, I’m so sorry. extra extra kudos to @challengeofthedark for keeping with my craziness and not crying every time I say Caranthir. 

Fic Name: Feed Your Anger Fandom: The Witcher (Aen Elle) Characters: Eredin, Caranthir, Avallac’h, Imlerith  Warning: Angst, violence AO3: Click Summary:   Couple of months after Caranthir joined the Red Riders, Eredin takes it upon himself to increase the rift between the navigator and Avallac'h by forcing them into a fight with each other. Caranthir is still young, trying to prove himself to Eredin and pull away from Avallac'h.

“Again.” Eredin said as he watched Caranthir take a deep breath and launch his next attack probably fully confident that this time he would break his opponent’s defence. The leader for the Red Riders parried without an issue. “Again.”

Their little sword sparring sessions had started a couple of months ago when Caranthir had passed his trial. The boy had amazing talent for magic, but he was terrible with swords. Truth be told, Eredin did not care much if Caranthir could use a sword or not, his job was not to be a swordsman, he was his Navigator, but there was certain discipline in swordsmanship and Eredin wanted to spend more time with the younger man.

“Again” Caranthir’s attack had been blocked and he could feel the frustration growing in him. He was good at everything he had ever tried. Sure, he had not tried that much from life, but he had no reason to believe that things would not work his way. However, their little training sessions had helped him grow closer to Eredin and that he appreciated. He was never going to admit that, but he admired the man. Probably the same way he had admiredAvallac’h as a child, but that was also something he would never admit. Eredin however did not treat him as a child, he did call him ‘boy’ and ‘kid’ occasionally, and that bothered Caranthir but not to the degree Avallac’h’s disapproving looks had bothered him. Still bothered him.

“Faster.” Eredin smiled after a very fast attempt from Caranthir. The boy was stubborn if nothing else. At first he had not cared about Avallac’h’s little experiment. Crevan had been convinced that his play with genetics and selective breeding would solve all of their problems. Eredin really wanted that to be true, but then he saw the failures, the navigators that were just decent, the ones that could barely make it and he had given up. Avallac’h had called Caranthir his Golden Child in front of Auberon, but all the leader of the Red Riders could do when he had heard that was to laugh. Until he saw Caranthir pass the trials. Nobody had done it faster than that, minus a minor wound on his shoulder, the boy had performed better than anyone. Eredin had been intrigued and Avallac’h had been disappointed which made it even sweeter.

Caranthir made a step back after another unsuccessful go at Eredin. The man had hundreds of years on him, but if they were using magic, the Navigator would have won by now. It was unusual for him to lose, even if it was just practice.

“Your eyes betray you, kid.” Imlerith was leaning against the nearby castle wall. For some reason unknown to Eredin, his general had taken interest in partially adopting Caranthir as a younger brother. Eredin did not mind. Imlerith was loyal and even if he was not the sharpest tool he had, there were certain qualities that the two of them could learn from each other. “By the time you attack, he has already read your move.”

Eredin was going to offer his own words of wisdom, something to send Caranthir in rage, that was another issue he had to deal with. The boy was impulsive, he needed him more controlled, more calculating. Imlerith was the blunt object that he used as his angry attack dog. Caranthir was too smart and too special to be used as a mindless tool of destruction. Eredin’s snarky comment never left his lips as he saw Crevan nearby watching them. The navigator had already seen the Sage as his focus was no longer on Eredin, but on his old mentor.

Caranthir could see the disapproval in his teacher’s eyes. He was not sure if it was the sword or just the company he was keeping, didn’t really matter. He was done with trying to please Avallac’h although he did wonder what he made out of his little training with Eredin. He couldn’t fight the feeling that despite everything Avallac’h was the closest he had to a family and so far he also had been the greatest betrayal he had ever felt. But he had a new family now and he was not going to allow anyone to hurt him the way Avallac’h had. Never again.

There had been something interesting and very annoying that was happening between the two of them when they saw each other. Caranthir’s whole body language changed and his eyes burned with fire that Eredin didn’t see even during a battle. On the other hand Avallac’h looked hurt. It had taken the leader of the Red Riders some time to figure out what was going on there, but after spending some time with Caranthir, he had solved the puzzle. The boy never had anyone but Avallac’h, no friends, no family, nothing. Eredin would probably shove his sword in his own throat if Crevan was his only option for socialization, but Caranthir did not really have a choice. He wanted the man’s approval as much as he wanted to prove to him that he was better and did not need him. Avallac’h was a bit harder to figure out, but one thing Eredin knew for certain was that he wanted the rift between these two to grow even wider.

“Crevan, why don’t you join us?” Eredin stuck the tip of his sword in the ground and leaned forward.

Avallac’h did not respond but his gaze looked from Eredin to Caranthir and then back to Eredin.

“I am rather curious to know who is better, the father or the son.” Eredin smirked. Avallac’h shifted his weight between his feet and Caranthir took a very deep breath loudly.

“My money is on the son.” Imlerith had pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, his hands were also resting on his mace. Caranthir’s money was also on himself, he was better, he had known that for some time now and he was eager to show it especially in front of Eredin. Hurting Avallac’h the way he was hurting would just be a welcomed bonus.

“You will remain curious.” Avallac’h said and started walking away, but Eredin’s words stopped him.

“I truly don’t understand why you are so upset. He was meant to be a navigator, one of the Red Riders, his place was always supposed to be here with me.” Eredin spoke casually, he was just stating a well-known fact, something that had been clear since before Caranthir was born. Avallac’h had been determined to keep this fact from becoming a reality, it had been years since he had decided the boy would not become another tool for Eredin. Caranthir had made his choice, and Avallac’h had failed.

Caranthir watched as his mentor took a deep breath and his jaw clenched. He had seen that reaction before, every time he messed up, every time he did something Avallac’h disapproved of and usually there was some sort of punishment involved. Eredin was taunting his teacher, he had no idea why, but he could see the words were starting to have some effect.

“Then I wish both of you all the best.” Avallac’h managed to shake off whatever had taken over him and tried to walk away but Eredin had not finished. He spoke once again..

“Crevan. I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sure it was not easy to separate with your life’s work, you raised the kid after all. That must have been painful. Almost as painful as being left by Lara.” Eredin knew that would sting and he was not wrong. This time Avallac’h turned toward him with so much hate in his eyes, the leader of the Red Riders almost started laughing. That was easier than he thought. “I thought a lot about why are you so upset that the boy joined the Red Riders.” he really didn’t, he had paid no mind to it, but he had Avallac’h where he wanted him, Eredin had already stuck the knife and now it was time to twist. “I mean sure you were trying to recreate Lara’s genes, but did you perhaps hope for something more? Recreate Lara herself? Looking closely enough I can almost see some of her looks in him.. How much must it hurt you, Avallac’h, knowing that the woman you loved left you for a human and Caranthir left you for me. I always thought it was Lara, simply being attracted to something more...exotic. Pleasures of the flesh or curiosity. It is, after all, hard to believe anyone would prefer a human to one of us.” Eredin turned toward Caranthir, the boy’s expression was blank but he could see the clenched jaw and the ice cold eyes fixed on Avallac’h. “But maybe it is just you.” Eredin turned toward the sage with the best smirk he could muster. “Maybe Lara was just trying to run away from you, the poor woman. Looking at what you have done to the boy, who wouldn’t?”

Caranthir watched Avallac’h’s resistance dropping. The usual calmness and control on his face had just broken and he could see the man boiling from the inside with rage, he had never seen his mentor like that. He remembered as a child he had seen a picture of Lara and he had asked about her, Avallac’h had snapped at him. Caranthir had learned the story in his own way, but he had never mentioned the name. Was Eredin right? Was it even worse than he thought? He wasn’t just an experiment, Avallac’h monster, but he was an attempt for his teacher to recreate an old painful memory? Caranthir ran his fingers through the scars on his neck, they were not physically painful, but something in his head was burning with different sorts of hurt.

“How much of that did he tell you? You know about Lara?” Eredin asked, looking at Caranthir. From the way the young navigator glared at Avallac’h, he could only assume not much at all. Not really surprising. Avallac’h was not a liar, but he also wasn’t a forthcoming man, especially about things that were painful to him. Eredin continued glaring at the Sage “You never cared about the boy, did you, Crevan? That’s fine, he has nowfound friends, someone who does not see him just as a tool.” he saw Caranthir’s jaw clench and he could swear he heard him grind his teeth. “It has always been about you and you alone. Your ambitions, your power, your influence.” He looked Avallac’h in the eye...he was going to enjoy what followed... “Honestly, who can blame Lara?” he spoke the last sentence slowly making sure every word was like another knife stuck in his chest.

The Sage made a step forward, honestly Eredin didn’t feel like the man wanted to attack him, although his body language had changed drastically from the usual calm and controlled deminior. Caranthir however had been itching to launch at Avallac’h and just a small movement from him was enough.

The Navigator took a second to get to his staff and in the next moment he was right in front of his mentor.

“Caranthir…” whatever Avallac’h was about to say was interrupted by an attack he had to deflect. Then another one and another one.

Eredin had found that watching mages fight was somehow impressive and boring at the same time. The power was extraordinary and breathtaking, but he always preferred to look his enemy in the eye as he shoved his sword in their gut or separated their head from their body.

Caranthir moved with impressive speed and his mentor had only been deflecting until the boy sent him flying against a nearby wall.

Avallac’h got up and touched the back of his head as if looking for blood. “Caranthir, stop.” His voice was clipped.

“He is not yours to command, Crevan.” Eredin shouted, trying his best to hide his excitement. “He is his own man. What have you done to him, to be hated so much?”

Caranthir attacked again and Avallac’h blocked, but this time the man followed with an attack and the Navigator was forced to defend himself. Avallac’h had not wanted to do that, he was angry at Eredin, and while he was not sure whether he would have attacked the leader of the Red Riders or found some self control, at this point it didn’t matter. He wasn’t angry at Caranthir, but if it was a fight he wanted, he was going to give him one. There were enough unresolved issues between them that would certainly not be solved with a few bruises, but then again, he did not know if at this point there was any way to solve them at all. But perhaps this fight was what they needed, Caranthir in particular. Perhaps the boy would reconsider his actions.... Another attack followed, more dangerous and then another one, the Navigator was serious, he was not just trying to resolve whatever tension was between them. That was when he realized Caranthir was not just trying to protect Eredin--not that he needed protection in the first place - he was trying to kill Avallac’h. The way he attacked, the rage and the power were more than he had seen him ever use.

Eredin was enjoying that far too much, he could see Caranthir’s youth and impulsiveness playing against him, whereas Avallac’h’s fighting style was controlled and very measured, in spite of his anger. Caranthir, however, was like a storm. Powerful, capable of destruction that could solve many problems in a matter of moments and create others equally fast. True, the navigator was more powerful than even Eredin had anticipated at first, but he was inexperienced. It didn’t matter though, he had figured that on day one and he was going to correct it, he just needed a bit of time. Teaching violence was something he knew how to do.

It was Caranthir’s turn to find himself on the ground, but Avallac’h was beyond words now. He was about to attack again when Eredin moved between the two of them.

“That’s enough.” He placed a hand on Avallac’h chest and the man looked at him with a murderous glare. “As much as I would enjoy watching that, you two will destroy the castle.” He pointed around them, stone had been cracked and the ground had some newfound holes that had not been there before. Avallac’h snapped out of it but Caranthir was not done. The boy jumped on his feet and moved toward his mentor but Eredin turned around quickly and blocked the navigator’s body with his own. “His day will come, and when that happens, I promise you, he will suffer more than anything you can inflict on him now.” Eredin was leaning forward and whispering in Caranthir’s ear.

“I can inflict a lot.” Caranthir had not felt so much anger since he found Avallac’h lab and all his notes. His rage needed an outlet and killing his teacher seemed like an excellent choice.

“No, you want him to suffer, you don’t want him to hurt. You want him to suffer the way you do.” Eredin stepped back and moved away the strands of hair that were covering Caranthir’s scars. The navigator snapped out of it and stepped back, not wanting his scars to be shown.

“Come on, kid.” Imlerith placed a hand on Caranthir’s shoulder. “Leave the grown ups to talk.”

Eredin watched as the Navigator was almost dragged away and then turned to Avallac’h. The man’s demeanor had changed, he was calm now, but there was still fire in his eyes.

“I hope you got what you wanted.” Crevan said as he cleared some dust from his robes. “I should have known better.”

“You should have.” Eredin chuckled.

Avallac’h walked away, he already had one fight, he was not following Eredin’s play again today. He was still angry, mostly at himself, he should have not fallen for that trap and it had been obviously a trap. Now he was seeing it, Eredin was trying to create a rift between Caranthir and him, not that this relationship needed Eredin’s help to be destroyed. Somewhere deep down Avallac’h wished things were different. Maybe he even hoped that one day once Caranthir matured the two of them could talk and he could explain. But based on the storm he had seen in Caranthir’s eyes, he doubted this day would come any time soon.

#eredin breacc glas #caranthir #avallac'h #crevan espane aep caomhan macha #my writing #fan fiction #the withcer

[babbushka]

Anger

Charlie Barber x Reader

2k; NSFW

                                                  --------------

He startles you when he slams the door to his house shut, startles you with the way he blows through the living room into the kitchen. You glance at the clock, it’s only two in the afternoon. The court hearing wasn’t supposed to end until four at the very least, and you worry about Charlie when the look on his face is nothing but a mask of rage.

“God I fucking hate – ” He sets down his bag on the table too harshly, practically throws it down, rips it off his body as he seethes, “This fucking woman.”

You’re stunned for a moment, just because he’s never regarded her with such rage, not yet anyway. You wondered when the resentment would come, he’d always been so gracious towards his wife, had always tried to be fair.

Looks like she wasn’t returning the favor.

“Bad day?” You ask lightly, and when he turns that thunderous gaze onto you, you put down the lunch you’re making and open your arms for him with a sad smile. “Sorry I’m just teasing, come here.”

“No I’m – ” He shakes his head, runs his hand through his hair.

“I can handle you honey, come here.” You assure and reassure him, taking a step forward.

He didn’t really have a temper, not really. You’d only heard him yell one time, and that was because you had almost gotten run down by a cab who didn’t care to pay attention to the pedestrian crossing sign.

He didn’t have a temper, but he was always so worried of turning into his father, was always so wary of becoming like the man he hated. You knew he wouldn’t, he just needed to let off some steam.

He rushes into your arms, frantic almost. You can feel the heat of his anger simmering through him as he grips you too tightly, pulls you flush against his body and buries his face in the crook of your neck, shaking shaking shaking from rage.

“Can I see you? Please? I’m – fuck I’m going to scream – I just need – ” His throat’s gone dry, and you nod, try and disentangle yourself from his arms.

Without any preamble, you tug your shirt up and over your head, toss it into the corner somewhere. You’re not wearing a bra, because you hadn’t planned on leaving the house at all today, and Charlie’s eyes zero in on your tits, his hands immediately cup your breasts, thumbs rubbing little circles over your nipples.

You don’t know if the soothing gesture is meant for you, or to calm him down.

“Bedroom.” You whisper, and he lets out a shuddering sigh.

He slips off his shoes and you take him by the hand and lead him up his stairs to his bedroom, the bedroom which you’ve foolishly started to think as your bedroom too.

This was the new house, the house Charlie bought with his fuck you money, to try and persuade the Judge that he’d be a better fit for his son. It was working, it had to be working, and you were there to help make the house a home. What did it matter that Charlie was married if she was never around? You spent more time with him than she did these days.

You certainly spent more time in his bed than her.

“On your back, I want to look at you.” He orders, and you willingly obey, happy to do as he says, wanting to do what he says.

You both strip down to nothing quickly, and he’s pushing you crowding you pulling you onto the mattress even faster. The sheets are fresh, you had just changed them that morning after all. The sheets are fresh and cool, and the afternoon light of the sun washes through the bedroom and tries to lift Charlie’s spirits, but you know it’s in vain.

The only thing that’s keeping him steady right now is the way his hands grip your thighs, bruises no doubt to form around your hips with the way he manhandles you and shoves you around to better get himself settled of top of you.

“Don’t be sweet,” You tell him, kiss his cheek. You know he needs hard and fast, and you want him to take it.

Your legs are spread for him, and he grunts when he slides a hand down your bodies to toy with your pussy, to rub and pet at it, getting your body responsive and making your cunt drip for him. He loves to make you soaked before he fucks you, and you’re always more than happy to let go and allow yourself to feel the pleasure he gives you, allow him to pleasure you for both of your benefit.

“Moan for me, let me hear you.” He grits out as he licks his lips, and you tip your head back and let the sounds of your pleasure slip onto your tongue.

He doesn’t finger you for long, mostly because he’s too wound up, too fucking pissed off, too impatient. He withdraws his hand and shoves it in your mouth, four fingers coated in your own slick that you happily suck down. You brace a hand on his wrist to keep him from gagging you, and you settle your hips onto the pillow he’s nestled under you.

“I love this fucking pussy, fucking love it. It’s mine, isn’t it?” He grunts, working his cock into your folds, pushing deep into you. He’s been fucking you for so long that your body knows how to take him, knows how to make room for his big cock.

You nod, sucking hard on his fingers, laving your tongue against them, moaning around them as a sign that he can plow you good and hard.

And he does, fuck he does. He’s so strong, has so much power in those muscles. Sometimes you forget how fucking big of a man Charlie is, both his height and his cock. He’s got so much power and so little control sometimes, that when he skips the soft and sweet stage and goes right into hard railing, you almost choke on his fingers from the sudden sensation.

He pistons his hips hard and fast, the sound of skin smacking on skin echoes sharply in the air, and your moans are muffled by the hand pressed against your mouth, but they’re there, he’s drawing them out of you with no problem. His hand moves down just a little to grasp your jaw, to hold you steady as he fucks you.

His cock rams up into your pussy and he’s red in the face from the effort, body shaking around you. His jaw in clenched, and you smooth your hands up his pecs, rub his chest in a way you hope is comforting, as he raws you. He tilts your hips with one of his big hands, and you yelp when the head of his cock slams up hard against your cervix.

“Sorry, sorry – fuck,” Charlie pinches and plays with your nipples, twists them hard and sucks on them as an apology for the harsh treatment, the springs in the bed protesting from how much force he’s using on you.

He readjusts and bites down hard onto your shoulder, anchoring himself there, tethering himself to you. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing harshly, so harsh, you can feel the almost wetness in his eyes; tears from frustration or anger or lust or relief, you don’t know.

He finds the spot inside you that makes your eyes fly open, makes your back arch and your toes curl even more than they already were, and he presses your sternum back down onto the mattress as he fucks that spot over and over, rubs your clit while he does it with one of his spit slick fingers, teeth biting down deeper into your flesh – so deep you’re worried he’ll break the skin.

You come, and you cry out his name, beg for him, beg for him to keep going, not to stop. You’re floating on cloud nine, absolutely over the moon with your orgasm, your legs trembling, vision whiting out from it all.

He slams one of his fists against the wall then, just needing to expel some of the energy he can’t seem to get rid of, as the force of his thrusts push you further up up up the bed, until you’re almost sitting up against the headboard. He punches the wall and shouts out his own frustration, eyes shut tight. He yanks you back down with a kiss to your cheek, fits a hand over your throat so you can’t go anywhere again.

It’s almost sweet, how even when he’s this angry, this fucking wound up, he doesn’t want to far away.

When he finally comes, he doesn’t bother pulling out, doesn’t bother doing anything. He comes and he fucks it deeper deeper deeper into you, fucks his come back into your pussy when it starts to leak out around the thickness of his cock. He pants in your ear as he milks his own orgasm, tries to empty every last drop of it into you.

And then he slumps forward, exhausted, all the anger and rage he held in his chest all day finally having dissipated. His chest heaves, and he’s covered in sweat. You can feel it with the way your hand slides across the meat of his back, those strong muscles there twitching as he keeps coming inside you.

He turns his face towards yours, and you meet his lips happily with lazy open mouthed kisses. They’re really more just presses of your mouths against one another, but then he rolls you onto your sides – careful not to pull out – and cups your cheeks in his palms, kisses you properly while he tries to steady his breathing.

It hurts your heart to see him so worked up the way he was, hurts to see him so angry. You’re glad that you can give him this, can help calm him down, help bring him back to the Charlie you know and love.

“Better?” You ask him, reaching up with a pleasure weak hand and tucking some of his hair behind his ear so it’s out of his face.

He closes his eyes against the sensation of your care, and lets out a long sigh of relief that has him settling deeper into the mattress.

“In every possible way.” He whispers, grasping your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips, “Thank you.”

“Does she have Henry still?” You hesitate to ask because you don’t want to get him all angry all over again, but you need to know so you can figure out how to help him calm down for the rest of the evening at the very least.

“Yeah.” He responds, his jaw working.

That’s what you were worried of – tonight was supposed to be the first night of Charlie’s time with Henry. Nicole must have pulled some stunt to reschedule. You couldn’t wait for the judge to finalize everything and just let Charlie have the full custody he deserves.

But until then, the house was going to be for just the two of you, and there were some perks to that, even if you wished Henry could be here too.  

“Let me cook you dinner then.” You whisper, kissing him, kissing his handsome nose and his high cheekbones and his perfect pouty lips, “You can have me again for dessert, if you want.”

“Believe me honey, I will.” He tells you.

And he smiles then, the first smile you’ve seen from him all day, as he lets himself be kissed, lets himself be held by the most beautiful woman in the world.

                                              ------------------------

Tagging some charlie loving friends!  @driverficarchive​​​  @dreamboatdriver​​​ @kyloxfem​​​ @solotriplets​​​ @tinyplanet-explorers​​​ @candycanes19​​​  xsister-serpent @girlyisthatweirdkid phoebewalker04 @stylelovechild​​​ @formerly-anonhamster​​​  @magikevalynn​​​ @ccorleones ​  @peterisparker​​​​ @mp938368 @hidingp​​​ @goodboybensolo​​​ @intrestellarsarah​​ @the-marvelatic​​​ @miasera​​​ @emily-strange​

#charlie barber x reader #charlie barber #marriage story #adam driver character #my writing #charlie barber smut #charlie barber imagine #charlie barber/reader

[itstittycitybaby]

Flirty (Lin Beifong x Reader) Part 3

a/n: im pumping these out so fast. after i finish an episode i have to immediately start typing or i’ll go crazy.

“This is Azure and this is Ruby!” The two of them hopped in your palm as you held them out. “They’re prettier up close,” Opal said, grinning. Her eyes were bright today. She looked happier than last night after she ran from Lin’s room crying. You chuckled, “For the most part, until Azure pecks my face for food because he’s a dick.” Opal looked taken aback but didn’t comment on your choice of words. It was weird considering Suyin had a mouth on her when she was younger. Her and her daughter were different.

“Would you like to hold them?” She nodded. “Ruby is very shy,” you said, moving slowly with the hand Azure was on. “So she has the tendency to be more skittish and peckish. She’s sweet though, don’t worry,” you reassured Opal once you saw the nervous look on her face. “Okay,” she said softly, watching Azure stand on her palm. “He’s beautiful.” 

You chuckled, “Oh he knows. The more you feed his ego, the more he thinks he’s in charge.” Opal giggled, stroking his feathers gently. An idea popped in your head. “Hey Opal?” She perked up, “Yes?” “Could you look after Azure today? I have some work to do and he can be a real pain.” Opal smiled brightly and her eyes lit up with joy. “Are... are you sure?” “Mhm,” you replied, grinning. “Just give him back after dinner.” “Okay!” With that you bid Opal and Azure a goodbye. “Whore,” you murmured to Azure as you left, ignoring your leave because of some new attention.

******

Suyin was excited about your plans. Her husband looked over them and praised your new pitch for the tram station. “Hey Suyin,” you said, after her husband left. Suyin hummed while pouring the two of you wine in a couple glasses. “Mind if I ask you something?” She nodded, handing you a glass before sitting down. You sat across from her, legs clamped together nervously. You fiddled with the glass in your hand. “I’m not sure how to ask this..since I haven’t seen you in well, forever.” “Nonsense (Y/N),” Suyin waved you off, “We’re family! I’ll answer any question you have.” “Thanks,” you responded, genuinely. She’d always been so welcoming and kind. The Beifongs were the only family you had. You regretted not staying in contact with at least Su. 

“Whenever I was in the village..there was some gossip.” Suyin’s brow quirked  as she took a sip of her wine. You sighed, brows pulling together and a soft frown on your face. “I don’t really listen to shitty rumors but it’s been so long I couldn’t help but think.. was there something that happened? Between you and Lin..?”

Suyin looked surprised. She tapped her finger on the wineglass as she pondered. The ring on her finger  “Sister drama, you know how it is. Nothing happened. Lin is just so bitter and won’t let go of the past. You know that better than anyone.” You frowned at her words. Suyin wasn’t wrong but..she made Lin sound totally heartless. “I just wanted to make sure. She’s been so...angry since I’ve gotten here. I know I probably have a part in that but..I’m just..worried.”

Suyin leaned over and squeezed your hand. Her smile didn’t seem to reach her eyes. “It’s alright (Y/N). Just give her some time. I can see she cares about you. Not that she’ll admit it.” You chuckled, a grin splitting your face. “Really?” Suyin looked amused at your enthusiasm. You really were a child even from how much time passed. “I promise. Now, why don’t we catch up. I haven’t seen you in what, thirty years?” You nodded, taking a gulp of your wine. As Suyin filled you in about her life you couldn’t help but feel, that she was lying. Your instincts screamed at you that there was more going on than she led you to believe. She wasn’t telling you everything. But she had been so kind and comforting to you since you’ve got here. Surely Suyin wouldn’t lie to you. She was your friend, the one who listened to your ranting after a fight with Lin. Su let you cry on her shoulder once your parents kicked you out and offered for you to share her room. Yet, as much as you tried reassuring yourself, your gut kept screaming.

*****

Lin touched her scar gently. The memories and the emotions she had tried so hard to repress and forget, were now bubbling back onto the surface. Toph had allowed Suyin to walk all over her. She gotta away with anything while Lin busted her ass trying to impress her mother. The price gave Lin a scar that mocked her everyday. It was disgusting to know that Suyin had been let go scotch free and still hadn’t given an apology. 

The needles had done its damn job alright. Lin was reminded of her failure of being the perfect daughter. No matter how hard she tried, Top didn’t seem to care. Was she really that unloveable? Could she even have someone want her? Lin huffed as she limped from the acupuncturist’s office to find Suyin. Her hand trembled from anger and the rocks shifted underneath her feet. It was getting bad again. Except this time she didn’t have her work or whiskey to drown herself in. Beads of sweat rolled off of her face and back. Lin ignored the acupuncturist’s qualms of resting and hurried to find Suyin. She was going to end this once and for all.

*****

Lin dodged the metal sculpture thrown her way. It missed her, barely. Lin raised some rocks from the ground and unleashed them onto Suyin. She couldn’t help but smirk when one of them hit her. Her sister retaliated by hurling metal plates towards her. Lin dodged all of them except for the last one. The impact made her tumble. Another boulder was thrown in Lin’s direction, but she rolled fast enough. She was getting slower and more sluggish. Her head felt hazy but she brushed it off. ‘Now’s not the time.’

Getting into a fighting stance she anticipated her sister’s next move. Lin lifted another boulder. It wobbled in the air but she still flung it toward Suyin. “Getting tired,” Suyin taunted. “Barely,” Lin barked. Suyin flung her fingers and bended the metal wall around her as a shield. The boulder broke from hitting the metal as soon as her sister warped it. “I wonder Lin,” Suyin yelled, face tugging into an ugly smirk. “If this was the reason Tenzin left you. No wonder (Y/N) left to travel the world. They couldn’t handle a bitter woman like you.”

Lin’s jaw clenched in anger. Her teeth ground together and her hands trembled.  She felt hot in her chest and the blood inside of her veins prickled. Lin raised a leftover metal plane on the ground.  “That’s enough!” Lin snapped her head over to the new voice.  The metal plate clattered onto the ground. (Y/N). There was a wooden staff in your hands. You twirled it in front of you, fighting off the tiny sharp rocks Suyin hurled over. Your arms trembled, eyes hushed with angry tears. You shook with rage from the mess in front of you. Lin stiffened; for once in her life she was afraid. Afraid of what you might say or do. Lin finally had you within her fingertips. Were you going to slip away again?

“I left on my own terms,” you growled. “How dare you use that against Lin.” The staff twirled effortlessly in your fingers. Lin was frozen in her spot. All she could do was watch you and your bird flit around you. “You’re a coward Suyin,” you gritted out, “A fucking weasel. What did you do Suyin? Don’t you think you’ve done enough?! ” Korra and Bolin gawked from the sidelines, witnessing unfolding between the two of them.

Suyin’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t say anything. Su’s eyes calculated the situation. Using her sister’s fear to her advantage, she flung the metal wall hard enough that Lin was sent sprawling. “Lin,” you cried out. She flew towards the courtyard and her back hit the fountain’s stairs. Lin growled, rising up again. Her stance wobbled from the force. Little black spots formed in her vision. Shaking out of it, Lin raised her fists, preparing for the next hit. Suyin walked calmy, crossing the bridge. “Are you done,” she asked, sounding bored. “Not yet,” Lin snarled. 

You glided into the air. Your paraglider soared you towards the two of them. A group of Suyin’s people spectated the fight. The tips of your feet touched the ground beneath you. Rolling, you folded your paraglider away. You jumped on your feet and facing Lin. “Move out of the way,” she snapped at you. “No,” you replied stubbornly. Lin created metal shards with her fingers. You grabbed your staff from your back, preparing for the onslaught to come. The shards sliced the air and they raced towards you. The staff moved in a tan blur as you twirled it with rapid speed, flinging some of the sharp metal away from you. They made a thunk, as it pierced into the wood. Once the metal stopped racing towards you that’s when the adrenaline died down. Your temple seared with pain and felt warm and sticky. You hissed, fingertips touching the wound. It stung like hell. You were bleeding. Your hand flung up to your nose. It throbbed from the blood coming out of your nostrils. Lin felt her heart shatter. You looked up to her with disbelief. She didn’t mean to hurt you, she didn’t mean to-

“Look what you’ve done Lin,” Suyin taunted, raising a boulder. “All you’re good for is hurting people. Especially the ones you care about.”

Suyin flung the boulder. Ruby started fluttering her wings, her cries piercing your ears. The pain in your temple worsened more thanks to her screeching. Ruby flew away from your shoulder to safety. Turning around, you shifted yourself in front of Lin. “Move,” she shouted. You ignored her, pressing your fingers into your palm. An orange shield burst out from your palms and surrounded the two of you. Lin gasped softly. Son of a bitch actually did it. You stood in front of her determined. The orange bubble was see through like an orange stained glass window. Your stretched your hands and fingers out in front of you. As soon as the shield popped up, Suyin’s boulder hit with a sickening crack. You cried out, straining to hold it up. A searing pain erupted through you. It felt like your soul was splitting in two. “It’s hurting you,” Lin cried.

Suddenly, a flash of green jumped on the bridge between you and Suyin. Opal. Air pushed out of her hands. “Fuck,” you shouted, shield starting to crack.  “You’re both sisters,” Opal cried, “Why are you hurting each other?!” Her words fell on deaf ears. Lin was focused on how your body swayed, struggling to keep itself up. Lin yelled, “(Y/N), stop. This isn’t about you! Save yourself!” The shield shattered. Orange shards flew into the air and dissolved into nothing. You whimpered, tumbling to the ground. Lin’s heart tugged at your soft cries. Ruby flew to you immediately, shrieking. Lin hobbled over and panted. The red parakeet’s high shrieks made her ears hurt. Her vision started to fade. She felt weak. She was hopeless to do anything. Lin’s feet fell under her. She stretched her hand out, trying to reach you. You were too far. The last thing she saw was your unmoving form, curled in on itself.

#legend of korra #legend of korra fanfic #legend of korra x reader #lin beifong x reader #lin beifong #flirty series #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fan fic

[voidstilesplease]

Bursts

demigod au ficlet [5] | prev

---

Derek

"Chip!"

Derek hastily straightens in his seat when he hears the familiar voice. His visiting little cyclops brother, Chip, who's as tall and broad as Derek, races down the front porch of the Big House, screaming to his favorite person at camp: son of Athena, Stiles.

"Stiles!" is Chip's answering cry as they meet in a bone-crushing hug. Chip picks Stiles up off his feet and twirls him around, all the while shrieking in glee. "I missed you!"

Stiles grins up at the cyclops when he brings him back down. His pale face is flushed, and the freckles on his face stand out. He looks so excited to see Chip. It's no wonder. They were instant buddies since the first time they met last summer, Stiles's first at camp. 

"Let's read Stiles!" Chip takes one of Stiles's arms, shaking it. He's bouncing on his giant feet as he continues babbling. "Can we read about Lord Pegasus? Oh, oh, I also want to read about Medusa! Oh, oh, and the other gorgons, please!" Chip draws out the last word and blinks his big eye at Stiles.

Stiles gives a hearty laugh at Chip's antics. Then his eyes widen a small fraction, "Oh," he mutters, looking down at the book his other hand is holding and back to Chip, biting his lower lip. "Oh, no. I'm mentoring today, kid."

"Yes!" Chip nods his head, not losing the broad smile. "You're men-to-ring me!" Chip giggles, swaying Stiles's arm playfully.

Stiles's expression morphs back to an open-smile after a moment of contemplation. "Of course! Anything you like."

Chip pulls Stiles up the front porch, only letting go to arrange the table and chair for their session. Derek clears his throat, standing to give his previous space to Stiles. "Do you want anything to eat?"

Stiles turns and acknowledges him for the first time. His smile tightens, and he doesn't look at Derek's eyes. "No, I’m fine."

Derek purses his lips. Well, Stiles's treatment of Derek makes sense after all his asshole business last summer, but knowing doesn't equal accepting. Derek tries again, "How about a can of diet coke?" 

Stiles looks at him, then, arching a brow. "Mr. D would castrate you on sight," he declares matter-of-factly in his deadpan tone whenever he thinks something is stupid. "Or worse, turn you into a dolphin."

Derek snorts, knowing it's the truth. "I'm not taking from his godly stash. We have some in the supply store."

Stiles squints his eyes, studying Derek in silence. Derek fidgets, feeling small despite having a few inches on Stiles and pounds of muscles. It has been their lengthiest interaction since the previous year. Derek remembers how just last summer, he was the one belittling the demigod. He wishes he knew better, then.

In the end, it's Chip who breaks their gaze with his loud, exuberant, spirited nature. It reminds Derek that Chip is still an equivalent of a ten years old in mortal years. "Stiles! The table is ready! I have a seashell to show you. I picked it up from dad's palace just for you!"

Derek lowers his eyes, face heating up, while Stiles hums awkwardly. The Athena child turns to go but rotates back eventually, less closed-off. He nods, "I would like some diet coke, Der."

Derek tries not to choke. He, especially, tries to reign his fast-beating chest at the nickname. Any other person and Derek will immediately douse them with saltwater. But today, Der sounds good, he concludes.

•••

Derek comes back about ten minutes later, bringing two cans of diet coke and a bag of fresh strawberries from the Demeter cabin. He also includes a carton of milk for Chip that the cyclops calls Hera's mortal nectar  - courtesy of Cora’s suicidal humor, who Derek counts as lucky not to be mangled by the queen of Olympus's herd of angry cows at the disrespect.

As he nears, he pauses at the sight of the new camper, a son of Ares, charging angrily for the Big House toward Stiles and Chip. The boy looks ready to maul somebody. And judging by the flash in his eyes directed at Derek's unassuming brother, the Ares boy sets to accomplish just that.

Derek forgets the coke, fruit, and freaking milk and runs.

He comes just on time to take the boy by the back of his orange camp half-blood shirt and tackle him down to the floor before he can land a punch on Chip.

"Get off me!" The son of Ares screams, completely mad with rage that his eyes almost look like they're in flames. He grapples against Derek's hold, thrashing and attempting to bodily lift Derek off. "He's a monster! A murderer!"

The guy is unexpectedly tough, and Derek's hold on him is starting to slip. He has no choice. Derek closes his eyes and concentrates as much as he can - summoning. Quickly, he feels the familiar response, the powerful tug from the depths of his stomach to the tips of his fingers. There's a rushing noise, then metal clanking in an effort to hold, the current rumbling within them. The pressure becomes too much, and a pipe breaks in their midst. A forceful burst of water coming from every which way aims at the son of Ares.

Derek doesn't let go as water floods the anger and aggression from the boy. A few seconds only and Derek calls off the water, which instantly dries back to the ground, leaving only small puddles in its wake and a drenched boy on the porch of the Big House. Derek remains dry, fists clenched on the wheezing Ares boy's shirt.

"What the hell's going on?" A voice shouts. When Derek raises his head, he sees that their altercation has called the attention of many. A tall boy with dark hair hurries forward. It's Fred, cabin five's head counselor. "Theo!"

Theo, the boy Derek has pinned to the floor, pushes at him, and Derek tumbles off. Theo scrambles up, wet and dripping, and even more outraged. Fred appears beside Theo in an instant. The head counselor holds him back when Theo tries to launch at Chip again. His interference causes a flailing arm to hit his nose, and Fred's fingers loosen on Theo at the impact. Before Theo can come near at the whimpering cyclops, however, Stiles puts himself between Theo and Chip, wielding a shiny dagger that kisses Theo's throat in warning.

Stiles's nostrils flare as he grits out, "I hope you have an adequate excuse for what you just did."

Theo is heaving, giving Stiles a look of disbelief, and glances at Chip with loathing. Stiles presses the blade more firmly. 

Derek gets on his feet at once and takes his brother in his arms. The poor terrified cyclops is sniffling, tucking his face on Derek's neck. He's shivering, and Derek feels his blood boil. Who would want to hurt an innocent kid? He should have drowned the Ares boy sixty seconds longer.

"He's a murderer," Theo snarls, pointing at Chip.

Stiles replies with a clenched jaw, "He's a child!"

"He's a monster,"

"He's a cyclops, Theo," Stiles grinds his teeth, "A monster is one who attacks the helpless and innocent."

Theo opens his mouth for another nonsense, but Derek cuts him off. "Fred!" Derek growls, finding the counselor's eyes and having enough of all of it. "Take your brother."

Fred, nose bleeding, steps forward cautiously, reaching to wrap a hand around his brother's arm. Theo remains immovable. Fred tugs again, "Let's go, you idiot."

Theo and Stiles are locked in a glaring match, the Ares boy not backing down despite the blade thrust to his throat. 

"Theo!" Fred hisses, hard and sharp, pulling at him harder now. The authority bleeds in his tone and touch. He's still the Head Counselor.

"We will discuss this," Derek says to Fred.

Fred cocks his head to the side in silent agreement, but Theo scoffs, finally stepping back. He slips his glare to Derek, droplets crawling down his sneering face. "You bet we will," and with one last menacing glance at Chip, he allows Fred to lead him away.

•••

"I don't understand where his rage is coming from," Derek tells Chiron later, pacing back and forth in his office. Chiron had been away with Mr. D during the dispute and was immediately alerted on his arrival. "He just attacked Chip,"

Chiron's forehead creases with worry, a thoughtful look on his face. His lips a thin line as he asks, "How's the young cyclops?"

The question makes Derek halt, the tautness of his shoulders relaxing a little. His arms stretch to lean against the back of a chair in front of Chiron's table. "He's with Cora and Stiles," he shakes his head, closing his eyes briefly. "He's distraught, understandably so. And Cora is plotting revenge, and Stiles is angry enough not to stop her."

A soft knock brings their attention to the door. Upon Chiron's permission, it opens and admits Lori from cabin seven, daughter of Apollo. She looks sheepish, ducking her head a little as she closes the door behind her. "Sorry for interrupting."

Chiron hums kindly, waving a hand for her to state her case.

Lori steps forward, fingers tight around the hem of her shirt. "It's about Theo," she announces, getting the full attention of the trainer and director.

Derek straightens, crossing his arms. "What about him?"

Lori visibly hesitates for a moment, then clears her throat. "During his first day at camp, he had sprained a muscle on his back from training. Brett told him to stay in the medic tent for the evening to recuperate."

Chiron's brows draw together, "All right?"

She wets her lips and continues, more sure of her words now. "While Theo was asleep, he dreamt. He was sweating and muttering on the bed, obviously distressed, so I decided to call a son of Hypnos to help him sleep better." She glances back and forth between Derek and Chiron for their reactions. "He manipulated Theo's visions to calm him. But he told me before leaving that Theo wasn't dreaming. He was reliving a memory."

Dread settles in Derek's stomach. Somehow, he senses that Lori's next statements won't bode well for him - or Chip and even Cora. He breathes through his nose, prompting, "And?"

Lori swallows, "His memory was of an older girl named Tara," the daughter of Apollo delays, calculating her words. Finally, she huffs, "I didn't want to talk about this; this isn't my story to tell. But after what happened today, I think maybe this will help you approach Theo."

Chiron nods in understanding, but his expression reflects the same apprehension that Derek feels.

Lori grimaces, sending Derek an apologetic look before she finishes. "Tara was taken by a cyclops, Derek. It might be after Theo, too."

~•~

#teen wolf #demigod au #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #derek hale #fics tag #word count: 1802 #teen wolf demigod au series #neither steo #nor sterek #lmao but they're all here finally #demigodseries

[mikkomacko]

Sweet As Honey 15

Harry remembers this day perfectly last year. How he'd woken up to y/n starfished across the bed, a leg and an arm thrown over him and her impossibly full belly peeking out from where her pajama shirt got bunched up in her sleep. The sun was barely rising, and Harry still blames his early rousing on the 'gut feeling' he had about Arlo being born that day, but y/n knows he was just excited about his birthday and most likely woke up with a stiffy. He had rubbed his palm over her belly, hoping to feel their son kick against his palm but it was even too early for him. Harry woke y/n with dozens of kisses dotted to her face and belly, and his intentions became clear when he nibbled on her shoulder. Y/n had sleepily wished him a happy birthday, moaning softly under his lethargic kisses and somehow he managed to undress her without any complaints from his wife. He remembers literally being inches away from burying himself in her when she'd shot up like she'd been punched in the stomach, smacking into his chest with a gasp. Before he could ask what was wrong her thighs (and a little bit of him) were wet as were the bed sheets. And he remembers scrambling to the hospital, throwing the overnight bag over his shoulders after he'd thrown on random articles of clothing and helped y/n dress. Remembers rushing to the hospital, hands tight on the wheel as he listened to y/n harshly pant and whimper through contractions. He remembers sitting through hours of nothing but contractions and ice chips, remembers going a bit light headed when delivery started and he could see blood on the doctor's hands. And he'll always remember the sound of his son crying for the first time.

Harry thought that he'd spend every birthday for the rest of his life only being able to think about how it felt to hold Arlo for the first time, but that thought's completely out the window today, because y/n's got a firm hand on his cock and her mouth latched onto the junction where his thigh and pelvis meet.

"Fuck me," he groans, eyes squeezing shut and hands immediately flying to grip her hair. Her hum vibrates through his skin, obviously pleased that he's finally woken up. A loud pop sounds through the room as she pulls her mouth from him, skin throbbing with a blossoming hickey.

"Rain check until tonight?" She cheekily asks, and the curse on the tip of tongue morphs into a heavy moan when her lips move around the head of his heavily leaking prick. He finds himself nodding, lifting his head up to peer down at his wife. Once their eyes meet, his wet and bleary with sleep and arousal, y/n drops further down him until her hand meets her mouth.

"Bloody-"he throws his head back on the pillows, eyes squeezing shut and hips flexing up into her mouth. The hum that resonates through her tickles across his dick, body racking with pleasure. He can't stop the guttural groan that leaves his mouth, brain swirling.

His feet find the mattress, hips propelling up and shoving his cock further down her throat. He feels her hands tighten on his hips and her throat spasm, but like always, she takes him with no complaints. He lets up, knowing he can't be balls deep in her mouth as much as he'd like to because his poor girl needs to breathe. Hips falling back to the mattress, he whimpers softly as he tongue works around his head. His thighs twitch, waiting for her to sink down on him again.

"S'okay H, go ahead." Her voice is a little rough and sleepy, but she speaks to him firmly and moves her hands down to grip his thighs. Lips parted and awaiting his next move, Harry doesn't waste a second in guiding himself back down her throat. He takes it slow at first, not wanting to hurt her or make her uncomfortable. It's not until her eyes have dropped shut, staggering pants leaving her nose does Harry snap.

Head thrown back on the pillows, teeth clenched shut to keep from being too loud with their son only a room over, Harry fucks into her mouth with all he's got. His mouth can't even form anything other than guttural groans, but he hopes y/n knows that he wants to tell her he loves her, that's she's the most perfect wife in the world. And he thinks the same may be coming from her with the way she's tenderly stroking over the tattoos on his thighs and tummy, almost encouragingly. She offering silent praises to him for fucking her throat.

One of her hands drop to softly cup his balls, fingertips running over the sensitive skin, and that's what does Harry in. He stills, hips twitching against her mouth as his cock shoots ropes of cum into her. Harry feels like he's gone to heaven. He literally woke up to y/n sucking his soul out in the best way possible. What a way to go, he thinks happily, slowly falling back to the mattress. Y/n stays latched to the head of him, mouthing at his still drippy slit until he's calmed down to actually open his eyes again.

She makes her way back up his body, dotting his bare skin with wet little kisses as she goes. He tilts his head to the side when she reaches his neck, purring as she leaves a sucking kiss there. She moves up his chest, knees straddling his tummy and peering down at him. The sight makes him groan. He's been welcomed to heaven with her.

Eyes glossy but happy, lips swollen and red with spot on them, and hair tussled from his fingers, she smiles sweetly at him. "Happy birthday bub."

Harry closes their mouths in a needy kiss, stomach clenching pleasantly when he tastes himself on her. "I love you darling." Harry mutters against her lips, tangling his fingers in her hair again.

"I love you Harry." His head thumps back against the pillows, smiling all dopey at her. If his still throbbing cock is anything to go by, he knows she loves him.

~

Straightening out the table cloth he's thrown over the folding table, Harry looks up just in time to see Arlo smack a balloon out of y/n's mouth, the rubber material flying through the air and sputtering.

"Heeey," she whines, as he giggles happily and Harry can't help but chuckle too. The balloon lands in a heap at his feet, and he bends down to retrieve it and toss it back at his wife. She jostles in her lap, glaring dramatically at him. "you're ruining all of mumma's hard work!"

Arlo ghosts his fingers over her lips, eyes wide as if looking at the brightest star. Harry's pretty sure he looks at her the same way. "Mumma,"

Just as Harry expected, y/n gulps, and her breath trembles as tears well in her eyes. He tries not to laugh as she squeezes Arlo into her chest. "You're getting so big," she cries mournfully, "my baby boy is not a baby anymore!"

Arlo grunts against her chest, little arms wrapping as far around her as they can, and Harry decides it's time for him to swoop in before she hugs him so tight he pops.

"Of course he's still a baby," a Harry reassures, picking Arlo up of her lap and settling him on his hip. "he's our baby, huh? Always gonna be our baby aren't ya?"

Y/n sniffles sadly as Arlo gurgles what Harry thinks is supposed to be the word baby. He's getting better at speaking, trying out more words, but there's only a few he can really say, the main ones being daddy, mumma, and peas. Harry couldn't be more proud. In fact, he thinks those are the only three words Arlo needs to learn.

"How am I the one crying?" Y/n laughs sheepishly, wiping her cheeks. "I thought you'd be the mess today."

Harry makes an offended sound, bouncing Arlo in his arms. "Me? Never!" Arlo smacks his palm against Harry's jaw, smiling at his pout. "Big, strong daddy never cries." Y/n doesn't have to laugh because Arlo does it for her.

"You cried the whole day after he was born."

Unable to come up with an argument, Harry changes the subject. "You just keep blowing up balloons. Us birthday boys are gonna go get in the shower." He turns to the stairs just as y/n throws an empty balloon at his back, both of them giggling as he dashes up the stairs.

~

"Gotta look extra nice today, okay? Give mumma something to brag about."

Arlo babbles, splaying his fingers out over the swallows on Harry's bare chest. He digs a diaper out of the dresser drawer, tossing it on the bed before placing Arlo down on the sheets, towel still bunched around him. Harry quickly slips a pair of boxers and grey trousers, keeping an eye on his son to make sure he doesn't take a tumble off the bed or anything.

"Alright, no more naked baby," Harry lays Arlo down, tickling the bottom of his foot when he shoves it up towards Harry's face. He gets a deep belly laugh in response, Arlo laying back and smiling up at Harry, happily letting him put his diaper on. Harry had set aside their clothes last night, hanging them off to the side in his closet where y/n wouldn't spot them because he wanted to surprise her, and it makes his job of getting Arlo dressed easier.

Matching grey pants with black suspenders attached, a little white button up, and a dark green bowtie to top it off. It may be a little over the top, but Harry will always treat his family like royalty, especially on their birthday. And the same goes for him, he reminds himself, pulling his own black suspenders up and straightening his tie.

Arlo sits on the sink by him while he brushes his teeth, and then he uses his finger to rub some baby toothpaste on the few teeth Arlo's got, finally dabbing some cologne on his wrists (and a tiny bit on Arlo's too).

Harry holds him up in front of the mirror, grinning proudly at the baby that looks like a miniature him. "We look good mate." He nods, patting Arlo's bum when he grumbles an agreement. They head downstairs, Harry leaving the gates open since Arlo will be watched all day, knowing he won't be able to get close to climbing the stairs on his own without someone swooping in.

Theo is yapping at the front door, and Harry can hear y/n chatting excitedly with whoever's arrived. Balloons have now been hung up, tied in a row the crosses the living room and dining room, framed by green and yellow streamers. Plastic plates and bowls designed to look like footballs sit on the serving table, surrounding a cake in the shape of a Packers logo. HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY AND ARLO is piped in thick white icing on it, a big #1 candle for Arlo and a #26 for Harry.

"There they are!" Harry turns, almost tripping on Theo who's pawing at his pant leg excitedly. Kate and Scott greet the two boys excitedly, wishing them both a happy birthday with a hug. Kate attempts to pry her godson off of Harry's hip, but Arlo grumbles threateningly, the sound bordering on a cry and turn his head into Harry's shoulder.

"Good to know he's still attached to you like a leech." Scott jokes, clapping Harry on the back with a laugh. Harry shrugs at Kate's pout, smiling sympathetically.

"Give him a bit. He's not used to sharing his house with everyone."

"I think you mean he's not used to sharing you." Kate mumbles, reaching down to pick up Theo. The pup wiggles happily, licking her hand. "When did ya get this little beast?"

Y/n comes moves around them into the kitchen, Scott following her as she offers him a drink. "Christmas gift for this little beast." He laughs, jostling Arlo. That earns him another grumble.

Scott and y/n return, a beer in his hand and a cup of iced tea for Kate. Y/n, now noticing her boys, falters when she sees they're matching and Harry beams. Until her eyes well with tears again, and then he's trying not to laugh as he hugs her.

"We're having an emotional day," Harry says through surpressed giggles, finding the bewildered look on Scott's face to be even funnier than his wife. Y/n whines, pinching his side until he yelps.

The front door opening distracts everyone from y/n, who's trying to stop crying, and the obnoxious shout of "oi oi!" from the door let's Harry know that the Tomlinson's have arrived. Scott and Kate step up to greet them, giving Harry and Arlo a minute to smack kisses to his wife's face until she's giggling.

Steve and Marie come in with trays of food, sticking to the football theme with hot dogs, hot wings, and burgers. The food gets set up, and Harry and Arlo are passed around for hugs and kisses while y/n let's Theo out back. Chloe stacks gifts in the living room, most of which are for Arlo but Harry really doesn't care. His best gift is sat in his arms wearing a matching bow tie and playing with the buttons on his shirt.

It's a bit overwhelming when Nick, Lionel, and Liam all show up together, the three men being more rambunctious together than usual, especially when they see Louis is here as well. Harry's so caught up in trying to get Arlo to say hello to Liam that he misses Gemma and Anne arriving until y/n calls out to them. He knew they were coming, they were so excited when they received their invitation, but seeing them step into his house to celebrate his birthday for the first time in ten years is like the first drop of a roller coaster.

"Well aren't you two cute," Gemma says in greeting, reaching up to flick his bow tie. He rolls his eyes, noticing the wrapped present Anne is holding.

"Oh, you can put tha' over there." Harry says, using the present as a distraction from hugging either of them. He ignores the suddenly overwhelming need to cry, swallowing thickly and stroking his fingers up and down Arlo's back.

"Happy birthday you two." Anne says shyly, lips twitching in a nervous smile. Harry thanks her, calling Gemma away from y/n so he can take them for introductions with Kate and Scott. Anne finds a spot with Steve and Marie, and Gemma settles in with Chloe and Kate. Charlie runs over to try and play with Arlo, but he's still upset with the thought of not being carried around by Harry so he sends his niece and nephew out back to play with Theo. Steve ends up following, being a sucker for dogs.

Harry meets up with y/n in the kitchen where she's making more punch. "Thank you for the party darling." He murmurs, coming up behind her to press a kiss to her cheek.

"Don't have to thank me. I've been waiting for an excuse to actually throw you a party." She teases, turning around to wrap her arms around his waist. Arlo lays his head on Harry's chest, watching his mom fondly. She leans in, kissing his chubby cheek.

"Last year at this time I was feeding ya ice chips while you cried." Harry whispers, eyes stinging with tears again. Y/n notices, but she doesn't draw attention to it. She knows how swamped he must feel with everyone being here today, especially Anne and Gemma. He was so heartbroken when they didn't show up last year that it's probably a little much to finally have them here. Not to mention the fact that the first year of his baby's life has gone so fast.

"S'your fault. Gave our son your big head."

Harry laughs wetly, pecking the crown of Arlo's head and then y/n's forehead. He should feel bad for not being out with the guests right now, but it feels so nice to have a moment of just the four of them that he doesn't care. Like Arlo, he doesn't want to share either.

~

Harry and Arlo are sat at the head of the table, the Packers cake placed in front of them and candles lit. He feels a bit odd being under such heavy attention, but he doesn't worry about it too much because Arlo starts crying as soon as they start singing. He burrows in Harry's chest, the miniature cake hat that matches Harry's falling off his head as he wails. Harry bounces him, laughing a bit. Arlo doesn't calm down until the signing has stopped, still hiccuping when Harry turns him around for a picture and then blows out the candles. The cheering makes him grunt angrily, slinking lowly in Harry's lap.

"You used to cry on your birthday too." Gemma tell him as y/n passes around cake. Marie starts the tale of Louis doing it too, claiming it's a 'boy thing' because y/n loved being sang to on her birthday. That makes Harry smile, knowing that to this day she blushes and smiles all pretty on her birthday.

Him and Arlo share their slice of cake, majority of it ending up as mush on Arlo's face. He does enjoy the frosting, so much so that he ends up smearing it all across Harry's face trying to feed some to him. He has to take off his tie that's had cake dropped on it, and Arlo's button up and tie end up in the laundry room as well.

They move to the living room for presents, Arlo receiving an abundance of toys and clothes from everyone, but much to Harry's surprise, his favorite gift comes from Anne and Gemma. It's an old baby bath towel, the corner turning into a good that makes a beaming frog. The fabric is worn but soft, and Arlo immediately throws it over his head with a squeal. The picture in the box is what makes Harry freeze.

It's him. Him when he couldn't have been much older than Arlo is now, sat in a diaper on his father's lap. He's got the towel thrown over his head, face scrunched up in a smile that matches his father. Harry had forgotten about the towel, and he hadn't known that this picture even existed.

"What is it?" Louis asks, nudging Harry with his foot. Harry hesitates, not sure if he wants to share the special photo with everyone. But then Arlo crawls into Harry's lap, eyes barely visible under the too big hood and he smiles.

"Daddy," he coos, chubby fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt again and Harry realizes that if this were him and Arlo, he'd like to think his son would proudly show him off.

"S'me and my dad." Harry grins shyly, handing the photo over. He doesn't look up as it's passed around, not wanting to see everyone's pitiful looks or sympathetic smiles. Instead he brings Arlo to his chest, hiding his nose in his babies little shoulder. Arlo's arms wrap around his head tightly and his legs slink around his torso.

"Daddy," he says again, as if telling the whole world that this is his father and he's the absolute best father ever.

"Yeah bug," he murmurs, "s'me. And I love you so much."

~

Harry feels good as he throws another crushing hit to Liam's hand. He's not tired, nothing in his body seriously aches, he's still focused. And it's refreshing. He feels like he hasn't fought in years, spending weeks resting after his concussion and then taking time off for his family. Maybe he should've trained more, gotten more ready for such a serious tournament, but he thinks the time off did him well. His family is healing, his son just turned one, and his beautiful wife is growing bigger with his baby each day. He's got everything together.

"That's it H!" Liam encourages, absorbing each hit with only a grimace on his face. After all these years, his palms are used to taking the brunt of Harry's beatings. "Finish it!" Fueled by the cheer, Harry throws a few more quick but hard punches, knowing the final hit would've been a KO.

He smirks, rolling out his tense shoulders as Liam shakes out his hands. He moves off the mat, loosening his gloves with his teeth and peeling them off. He flexes his taped knuckles, accepting the towel Liam tosses him to dry off his sweaty torso and neck.

"Cool down on treadmill?" Liam asks but Harry knows it's an order. He gulps down some water, tossing the towel to the side and heading to the treadmill. He keeps the speed low, lightly jogging as he removes the tape on his hands.

"Ready for this weekend?" Liam asks him, leaning against the wall in front of Harry. He crosses his arms over his chest, nodding at Harry’s speed approvingly.

"Yeah. I feel really good, think I can give Martin a good fight." Harry tries not to be too prideful but it's hard when he finally feels like his life is becoming what he's always wanted it to be.

Liam chuckles, leaning over to check Harry's heart rate on the machine. "What about the missus and the babies? Gonna do okay without them?"

Harry's smile falls, eyebrows dropping at the reminder. The fight this weekend is out of town, two nights before he'll get to come home and it just didn't seem right for the whole family to go. Arlo can't go to the fight, which means they'd have to take a babysitter (Anne and Gemma most likely) but there's really no reason to take everyone. And y/n and Harry are still too attached to leave him for two nights, meaning y/n stays home too. Besides, she should be getting restful, comfortable sleeps in their bed at home. Not some hotel in a rowdy city after sitting on the rough benches in an old gym.

"I'll be fine," Harry says, most trying to assure himself. "s'not my first overnight fight without them."

He lowers his speed to just a walk, chest feeling a little heavier. He knows he can handle two nights without his family, but he doesn't really want to. He hates waking up in a bed without y/n, and he knows it'll be worse now that's she pregnant again. He's not just leaving one baby behind, he's leaving two.

"It'll go by quicker than you think." Liam promises, and Harry shuts off the treadmill, stepping down. He follows Liam back to the bench, praying that the rundown for this weekend goes by quickly. He's eager to shower and head home so he can snuggle up with his wife and babies.

~

Harry's crying, and it's pathetic, and he knows that. But he couldn't care less. Y/n has got Arlo on her hip, looking so small and cute with his two babies, and he just wants to wrap the three of them up and never let go. But he can't. Because he's got a fight to get to and a family to provide for. You can set them up for life, he reminds himself as he pecks Arlo's forehead and y/n's belly.

"I'll call you when I get there, yeah?" Harry mumbles, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth.

Y/n nods. "And before bed?"

"And in the morning." He promises, eyelashes fluttering when she reaches out to brush a stray curl off his forehead. Y/n jostles Arlo on her hip, and Harry turns to him with a fake stern look on his face, not wanting to crack under the piercing frown his son is giving him.

"You be good for mumma, okay? Man of the house this weekend. Gotta make sure her and the bub are eatin' and sleepin' good. Don't want to come home to any messes." Arlo grunts, obviously displeased with his dad's departure and not wanting to hear the 'responsibilities' Harry's bestowed upon him.

"Daddy," Arlo whimpers, reaching out to Harry with a pout on his pink lips. He shouldn't, but Harry cradles his baby to his chest anyway for a last minute snuggle.

"I know baby," he whispers, "but s'only for a couple days. I'll be back before ya know it." He lifts Arlo away from his neck, taking in his pouty baby. The light onesie he's wearing and the clear skies above make his eyes shine with a baby blue glimmer, and Harry wishes he could just look at him forever.

The longing look Harry's give his son is heartbreaking, and it's even worse when Arlo returns the same gaze back. He grumbles something that sounds like 'miss' and Harry takes that as Arlo letting him know that he'll miss his daddy. "I'll miss you too bub, but you know I love you more than anything."

Arlo's tiny lip wobbles sadly at the soft spoken sentiment, and Harry immediately brings him back to his chest. It's the first little cry that makes Harry's eyes burn with tears and he squeezes his eyes shut as he splatters kisses to Arlo's head.

"We'll be okay Harry," y/n comforts, taking the wailing baby from Harry. Arlo curls into her chest, little body wracking with sobs. His own lip wobbles, y/n cupping his cheek to assure him that they'll be okay.

"I love you," he swears, leaning into to kiss her deeply. She happily kisses him back, mumbling the promise back to him. With one last fleeting kiss to each of them, Harry drags his feet towards Nick car that's holding a very patient Nick and Liam. His bag's already been loaded in the trunk, so he climbs in the backseat, waving sadly at his family on the doorstep. Y/n returns it, smiling sympathetically as he shuts the door. He tries not to look at them as Liam quickly drives away, not wanting to give Harry an opportunity to jump out. It's not until the gate leading up to the driveway shuts behind them that Harry scrambles for his phone, clicking y/n's contact.

"Hiya love," she greets cheekily, "miss me already?"

"Yes," Harry answers honestly, "and I forgot to remind you to lock the doors and set the alarm. I'll check the gates and stuff."

Y/n giggles at his protectiveness. "I will Harry." She promises, knowing he worries. Every time he's ever had to leave her home alone he's taken the time to remind her to be safe and let her know that he'll be watching over them when he can.

"Good," he murmurs, wiping at the tear that dribbles down his cheek. He can hear Theo yip happily, followed by a wet giggle and his chest feels lighter knowing that Arlo's being cheered up already. The dog was a damn good idea.

"There's a bag in the backseat with you-" Harry looks over, finding the reusable bag sitting on the floor of the car, "s'got some stuff for the trip for you."

He hauls it onto the seat, smiling when he finds his favorite snacks and banana smoothie, including a container of peas and mashed potatoes. "I love you." He breathes, smiling when he finds a travel sized blanket and one of her the pillow cases for their bed folded up.

"I love you too,"

"I'm gonna make you proud." He swears, wiping at his wet cheeks.

"You already have Harry." Y/n assures him, and he can't help but choke out another sob. He's always been quite the crybaby when it comes to his family. He loves them so much and he's got a chance to take care of them for the rest of their lives, all starting with the fight tomorrow night. He's not going to let this one get away from him.

#sweet as honey #Smut #sweet as Honey smut #Harry Styles #dad harry styles #daddy harry styles #boxer harry styles #husband harry Styles #harry styles au #one direction #fluff