#very much ‘everyone gets pinched’ mentality and she doesn’t mind doing the time bc she’s not a rat

[babybakuu]

Hey I have to request for Bakugou x reader prompt: 11 & 18 pls

request from this prompt list!

11. Wow, you look..amazing. & 18. That was kind of hot. 

A/N: im so sorry these are taking so long to come out lmaooo i have writers block and im really hating editing rn so this will be half way unedited,, thank u for requesting and waiting babie,, also its under a read more bc i can’t believe i wrote mfing 3k words for this 

“Wow,” Katsuki says almost breathlessly, “you look..amazing.” 

Your eyes narrow in on the blonde who’s currently standing in your doorway. You can’t tell if he’s lying or simply just pulling your leg. Did he always have to be so sarcastic? “Haha, very funny Katsuki.” You’re rolling your eyes with a pink tint on your cheeks and your hands start to fidget with the bottom of your dress. “Can we just get this over with?” 

“I’m being serious you know. You look good.” He says as he holds out an arm for you to grab and you do. But you were waiting for it- the punchline, the teasing- “I didn’t know a gorilla could dress up so nice.” 

There it was.

“Shut the hell up.” You deliver a solid punch to his arm as he leads you to his car but he doesn’t even flinch. “Remember I’m doing you a favor, if you’re not nice to me maybe I’ll slip up and tell your parents during dinner that we’re not really dating.” 

He pauses and glances in your direction. “You wouldn’t.”

You shrug. “Maybe I would. How long has this been going on for Katsuki? 6 months? 8? How disappointed would they be to hear-”

“Alright, just shut up.” He huffs, holding the car door open. You’re cocking an eyebrow at him, arms folded against your chest, and the expression has him hesitating. “I mean uh, please..shut up?” 

A scoff slips past your lips and you find yourself rolling your eyes. “Better.” You sigh, while climbing in. “Not the best but better.” The door closes with a thump next to you and you’re scanning his car. It’s spotless like usual, the leather seats didn’t have a speck of dust on them, and it smells just like burnt caramel- a scent that was growing on you a little too much. 

“Brief me.” You say as he climbs in. “What have we done since we last saw your parents?” 

“You tell me.” 

“How come I have to think of everything in this fake relationship?” A prominent pout is on your face and for a second, you swore you saw him staring at your lips. Was your choice of lipstick too much? Not good enough? You’re suddenly self conscious but he turns away, buckles his seat belt, and starts driving.

“Well, if we were really dating- what would you like to do?” He catches a glance from the corner of his eyes and you’re sitting there, arms folded against your chest and that pout on your lips fades. 

“If we were really dating huh.” You absentmindedly repeat. The sentence settles in your mind and the butterflies in your stomach start fluttering. 

If you two were really dating..how nice would that be? You wouldn’t see him every once in a blue moon when he asked you to come to dinner with his parents. You’d probably get to eat more of his cooking. And maybe, just maybe- he would hold your hand just because he wanted to, not for show. 

“Hello? Earth to planet dumbass?” He questions, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“Uh..camping..” You reply. “I’d really like to go camping.” 

“Camping..huh. I didn’t expect that from you.” 

“Well, I’d want to do something you enjoy and I’ve never been so..” 

“Maybe we should go.” He pauses, throwing another glance in your direction. “Just you and me, it’ll be fun.” A small smile spreads across your face and your stomach is doing backflips at the thought. Just you and him? How many days would you spend together completely alone? “Can’t wait to see you eat shit while hiking.” 

“Fuck you asshole. I take it back, I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” He does this ugly laugh snort thing and you can’t help but smile as your heart flutters a bit for the millionth time in the past 10 minutes. Maybe you should go see a doctor for that. 

“Seriously- clear your schedule for next week, I’ll take you for your birthday.” And suddenly, you find yourself holding a hand against your heart and you’re warm, so so warm. 

“You..remembered?” 

“Why would I not remember my girl’s birthday?” He asks as if it’s the dumbest question ever.  

My girl. 

Your head is spinning and that smile tugging at the corner of your lips won’t go away no matter how hard you’re trying to make it disappear.

“What kind of fake boyfriend would I be?” 

Oh.

Right. 

This wasn’t real. And like magic the smile on your lips is gone. 

“Yeah..haha.” You’re forcing a laugh but the disappointment on your face is evident. Your gritting your teeth and mentally cursing at the fact you are so so so head over heels in love with him. Curse him for being so handsome, for being so tall, for being so charming but at the same time annoyingly sarcastic, for being-

“Are you okay?” Katsuki asks breaking you out of your thoughts. He gives you this look. His eyebrows are furrowed, his head is tilted, and there’s genuine concern in his eyes. “We’ve been parked for ten minutes and you haven’t said a word.” 

“Sorry, I was uh, thinking about something.” He’s staring at you with those red eyes that make you squirm in your seat with an intensity that rivaled the sun itself. Those eyes could pierce through metal just with a glance and he was looking at you with them? You’d probably die if you made direct eye contact. 

“You know you can talk to me right?” 

And when those words slip out of his mouth, you have an urge to confess right there and then. You want to tell him you’ve been in love with him since you’ve started this whole charade. But you don’t. Instead, you nod your head at his comment and reassure him you’re fine. He sits there, staring at you with those piercing red eyes and lets out a sigh. You know he doesn’t fall for it, he knows something’s not right, but he gets out of the car anyways.

“Watch your step.” He says. His hand is outstretched, inviting, big and warm. You take it and when your hand intertwines with his, you feel better. 

“Thanks.” You mutter while attempting to memorize the feeling of his skin pressed against yours. What if this just ended tomorrow? What if he finds someone else that he genuinely likes? His fingers are laced perfectly between yours as if they were built, molded, and created just for you. But you don’t notice your head getting a little too close to the car frame because you’re so memorized by the warmth radiating from him and-

clunk. 

“Ouch.” You wince. 

“I guess I should’ve warned you to watch your head.” He laughs. 

“Shut up.” Your hand is rubbing your sore head and there’s this adorable expression on your face but Katsuki would never tell you that, not in a million years. Instead, he places a large hand head on your head, he pulls you in close, and kisses the sore spot on your head. It doesn’t hurt so much after that. 

“Aren’t you two just the cutest?” His mom’s voice rings from behind you two. 

Greetings are exchanged alongside a few hugs and kisses and you’re laughing while watching the poor boy next to you get smothered in his mother’s lipstick. He swears he’ll get you back later and mutters something under his breath about “smothering you in kisses to see how you like it” but you ignore his empty threats and wipe off the prominent red on his face with your thumb. “My handsome baby.” You coo, imitating his mother, and pinching his cheek. He tells you to knock it off as he swats away your hand and that he “hates being treated like a 5 year old” but that smile on his face tells you otherwise. So you poke a little more fun, tease a little more, and he’s on the verge of leaning down and peppering your face in kisses but his father clears his throat when his hands are roughly cupping your face, and he remembers- he’s in public, in front of his parents, about to kiss the shit out of your face. 

He lets it slide this time. 

Everyone’s sitting at a table now. You two are poliety taking sips of your water and his mother is going on about their jobs, their daily lives, and maybe even possibly having another kid. Katsuki practically chokes as soon as he hears this comment and you’re attempting to hold in a laugh and at the same time juggle the liquid in your mouth while watching the blonde boy attempt to hide his coughs with a red face. 

“Just kidding.” His mother says while folding her hands and placing her elbows on the table. For a minute, she’s sitting there with her head resting on her folded hands watching you attempt to gulp down the water but choking at the same time. She’s watching Katsuki point a finger at you and choking a second time on his spit. So now, you’re both looking at each other having a laughing and coughing fit, all the while struggling to just breathe. Ah, just how cute could you two be? But when she opens her mouth to say something, her husband cuts her off taking the words right out of her mouth. “You two really love each other, don’t you?” 

And suddenly you two are caught like a deer in headlights. Katsuki’s cheeks are burning red and yours are a matching shade. “No need to be embarrassed!” Masaru exclaims. “It’s just that- you two look at each other with..uh..” 

“So much love.” Mitsuki interjects. 

“W-what?” Katsuki stutters. 

“It’s the same way your father looks at me.” She says. “Don’t be embarrassed, tell your girlfriend how much you love her. I mean, you must’ve said I love you to each other already. It’s been about 7 months, right Masaru?” Katsuki’s reaching for his glass, pretending to be incredibly thirsty in hopes someone changes the subject. 

“He’s said I love you already, hasn’t he (Y/N)?” 

“Oh- are we ready to order?” You’re attempting to change the subject, you really are but Bakugous are relentless. You would know. 

“Has he not?” Mitsuki gasps. 

“I- uh-” 

“Don’t meddle so much!” Masaru interjects. And for a moment you thank the lord for making Masaru Bakugou. 

“We’re ready to order!” Katsuki yells for the waiter halfway across the restaurant, turning multiple heads in your direction and earning several glares. 

“Smooth. Real smooth.” You whisper low enough for him to hear. You’re stifling a laugh as you land a playful smack on his thigh.

“Shut it.” He’s biting back a smile and before you could pull your hand away, he takes it in his, giving it a little squeeze. 

Ah.

Dinner was always fun with the Bakugou’s. 

Before you know it, the night is over. You’re hugging his mother goodbye and she invites you to a family gathering in two weeks, which you politely accept. His father on the other hand is in the corner giving him what seems to be a heart to heart talk but the way the blonde keeps on glancing in your direction every so often has you curious. What were they talking about? 

“You know he loves you right? That boy won’t shut up about you.” Mitsuki laughs. A blush forms on your cheeks. “And you know how hard it is to get him to talk about anything.” 

You’re simply nodding your head as she continues to talk about anything and everything and at the same time you’re absentmindedly rubbing your arms. Why was it so cold today? “I think it’s time to go.” Katsuki appears behind you, dropping his big coat on your shoulders. Thank lord he was practically a human heater thanks to his quirk. You’re burying your face into his jacket. 

Was your face cold? Yes. 

But did you also want to engulf yourself into his scent before the night was over? Yes.

 “Come on, let’s go before you freeze to death.” You both say your goodbyes a second time and make way to his car. “Don’t hit your head.” He muses holding the door open. You shoot him a glare but he’s chuckling at the sight. “Cute.” He snorts. You’re sitting the car now, his jacket around your frame, and you look up at him- your mouth ready to shoot back a sarcastic remark but you freeze. His eyes are soft, he’s wearing this small smile that could probably melt the sun itself, and at that moment, he just looks so..content. Your heart is swelling at the sight. 

“What are you looking at idiot?” He snaps but that smile on his face grows wider and you feel your heart skip a beat. You gulp. Why did he just have to look so handsome- so perfect? It was almost as if he was asking you to confess-  to let him know how much he meant to you, how much you liked him. 

“You’re a little ugly looking.” You reply. He does that ugly snort laugh again and he rolls his eyes while slamming the door shut. 

“Yeah fucking right.” You hear him scoff through the car door. “Me? Ugly?” He’s inside now, taking his seat and placing his hands on the steering wheel. “You just have really bad taste in men.” 

“Yes, exactly why I’m dating you at the moment.” 

For a minute he’s taken back at the fact someone could match his energy- his sarcasticness but a smile is on his lips nevertheless. “I am not fucking ugly.” He says, he’s half joking half serious and you can tell he’s actually concerned..? But the Great Katsuki affected by your comment? Wow, dinner and a show. “Right..?” 

“Mhmm, yeah sure. You’re the handsomest man out there.” 

“You just have shitty taste in men.” He repeats. “I was voted the sexiest hero of the year- of the decade! Any woman would be happy to have me.” 

“Okay Katsuki, whatever you say.” You’re giggling at how hard he’s taking this, it was almost as if his pride was being ripped to shreds by one small comment. 

“And I was voted the best dancer, singer, kisser-” 

“Kisser? How the hell did they come to that conclusion?” 

“Word of mouth.” 

“You? Kissing a girl? I’m your first girlfriend and our relationship is fake.” 

“Doesn’t mean I haven’t kissed someone before.” His tone is cocky, his chest is puffing out a little, and what was with that annoying ass smirk on his face? 

“Yeah right.” You laugh. “Come on, just take me home so I can watch my show and eat ice cream.” 

“You don’t believe me?” His raising an eyebrow and his eyes had a little glint in them. What was that? Cockiness? Pride? You didn’t know but whatever it was- it was making you nervous. 

“I don’t know if I would believe a teen magazine.” Your eyes are rolling and you’re getting semi annoyed with how adamant he was being. Did he really have to insist he was the best at everything? How the hell did you even measure how good of a kisser someone was? 

“Kiss me then.” He says, your heart skips a beat and your cheeks instantly flush. 

“W-what?” 

“I said kiss me you idiot. I’ll show you I’m the best fucking kisser in all of Japan.” You’re laughing, you’re laughing so hard to the point tears are brimming in the corner of your eyes but when you look over and his face is as serious as can be, you gulp. “I think I’ll just take your word for it Katsuki.” 

“What? You scared or something?” Damn that blonde always knew how to push your buttons. 

“Me? Scared of what? Kissing? Pfft.” 

“Seems like you’re scared.” He says relaxing back into his seat and then his eyes grow wide and realization hits him. “Could this be..your first kiss?” 

“WHAT NO- I mean- I’ve kissed plenty of boys before.” 

“Then what’s the problem with kissing me?” 

“You really want to do this?”

“I’m just trying to prove a point.” He shrugs. 

You’re sitting there, cheeks flushed as you chew on your bottom lip and then you look up at him. His arm is now resting on the side of your seat and he’s dangerously close. Why was he ten times more handsome up close in a dark parking lot? Did the waiter spike your drink? Why were you suddenly dizzy and unable to breathe properly?

“Let’s get it over with then you idiot.” You sigh. You have to put up this fake act. You had to beat that cocky blonde at his own game. And you had to show him that he wasn’t the best at everything.

So he leans in and you do too. The smell of burnt caramel is stronger than ever and you swear it was intoxicating. Also, where did he get a mint from? Was he planning on doing this all along? Pressuring you into some kind of kissing competition because he knew you wouldn’t refuse? But that meant he would probably like you too. That couldn’t be..right? 

But when his lips are on yours and your mouths are dancing together, there’s one thought that pops into your head.

Fuck. He was good.

One hand is under your chin, tilting your head up and the other is pulling you in deeper- closer, and you’re desperately trying not to melt into his hands. If he wasn’t careful, you’d probably let him know how head over heels in love you were. 

He pulls away, his lips now pink and swollen, and he cocks an eyebrow. His face just screams it-was-great-wasn’t-it-? and you’re sitting there unable to even think straight. 

“So?” He asks, folding his arms against his chest. He knows he won the argument and he knows he proved his point, so did he still need to ask? Oh. Because he’s Bakugou Katsuki.

“That..was kind of hot.” You admit. He’s laughing as your cheeks flush a bright red but you can’t get the feeling of his lips on yours out of your mind.

“So now that we’ve officially kissed, we should officially date as well.” He’s throwing you a glance as he buckles in his seatbelt but you’re too dazed to hear what he said. 

“Hmm?” You question, your finger is on your bottom lip and your mind is attempting to wrap around the fact that you and the boy you’ve had a crush on for the past 7 months just kissed you. 

“I said,” He leans over a second time, this time placing a small peck on your lips, “be my girl.” 

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero #my hero academia #masterlist #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bakugou katsuki x reader fluff #bnha x reader fluff

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 35 | Morgan Rielly

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

“That’s because the destination is Kelowna.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

“I know, but--”

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

“You do?”

He pinched her butt playfully.  “Smart ass.”

“Yeah, but you love my ass.”

“You’re lucky I do.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

Go drown urself in that lake bitch

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

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

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

Ur soooooooo desperate for attention

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But Briony--”

“Don’t.”

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

“It is most definitely not your fault.”

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

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

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

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

Morgan sighed heavily.  “Bumblebee…”

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

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

“Quiet, Mr. Rielly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N-No,” he stuttered out.

“Babyyyyy,” she mewled, kissing the tip.

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

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

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

“Who gets too fill you up, Briony?”

“You, baby.”

“Who?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like that?”

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

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

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

“Stay right there,” Morgan mumbled quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

“Does she cook a lot at home?”

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

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

“You can never have too much garlic.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I insist--”

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

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

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

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

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

“Does what usually happen?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m okay,” she said.  “Is Ray gone?”

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

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

“Already is.”

“Okay.  Can you come into the bedroom?”

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

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

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

“Hey.”

“What’re you doing?”

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

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

Bee smiled shyly.  “Just a little something.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that okay?”

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

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

“And I trust you.  And I love you.”

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

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

“Briony…” Morgan barely made out her name.

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

“What…what did you--”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“D’you like the colour?”

“Yes.”

“And the lace?”

“Yes.”

“What about the garter?  And the pantyhose?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But Briony--”

“Do you want me to stop?”

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

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

“I won’t.  I won’t.”

“Promise me,” she demanded.

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

“Not until you beg.”

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

“Beg.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Briony, please.”

“Please what?”

“I need to touch you,” he begged.

“I don’t think you’ve earned that yet.”

“Wh – I – please,” he continued to beg.  “You don’t understand, Briony.”

“Not yet,” she shook her head.  She stood up again to face him, placing her hands on his chest.  His eyes were pleading with her, but she didn’t budge.  “What do you think of the garter and pantyhose?” she asked again, just to torture him.

“I love it.  I love it all,” he said.  “It looks so, so sexy.  It’s driving me fucking crazy.”

Her hands made their way down his chest and over his bulge, settling on his knees as she shifted her weight from one leg to another again and again before flipping her hair in front of him dramatically.  She promised him she’d give him a show, so she was going to give him a show.  She incorporated her movements into pulling his pants off of him, revealing how rock hard he was.  After scratching her nails up and down his thighs, she settled them on his knees once more before spreading his legs open dramatically.  Morgan looked at her wide-eyed before she squatted down between his legs, her hips swaying from side to side.

“Jesus fucking Christ Briony,” his voice was frantic as she spun around on her tiptoes, still squatted, before swaying her hips back up into his face.  “Briony.”

“You like that?” she ignored his pleading tone, knowing all he wanted was to touch her.

“Yes.  Please Briony, can I t--”

“What about when I do this,” she said, spinning around to face him before climbing on to his lap.  She flipped her hair in his face again, and began to grind down.  His hands left the armrest dramatically, ready to grab her, but with every ounce of will he had left in – which wasn’t much – he balled his hands into fists and kept them away from her.  She shoved her chest into his face, her hands on his shoulders and nails digging into his skin.

“Briony – you fucking – you don’t – you can’t--” he muttered out.

“You want to fuck me with this on, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“You don’t want me to take it off?”

“No.  Keep it on.  Keep it all on.  I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to fucking walk tomorrow,” he told her as she grinded down on him again, his cock rubbing up against the fabric of her thong.

She smiled.  “That’s what I like to hear, Mr. Rielly.”

“Can I touch you?  Please?”

“No.”

“Briiiiiiony.”

“Not.  Yet,” she said, arching her back.  “Tell me something Morgan,” she began.  He gave her cut eye.  Her right hand slipped down between their bodies to her hot core.  “Do you like it when I touch myself?”

Morgan huffed.  “I like it when I touch you better.”

“Why?”

“Because I know how to make you feel good,” he said.  “Because I like making you feel good.”

“And when you get to touch me, what are you going to do to me?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

She smiled.  She grabbed his cock without warning and began to stroke it teasingly.  She felt his hips buckle at her touch and knew she had teased and agonized him long enough.  She grinded down on his lap one last time, for good measure, feeling just how hard his cock was.  “Morgan?” she whispered in his ear.

“Yes Briony?”

“Make me be your good girl.  Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Morgan was like a man possessed.  In what felt like less than a second he grabbed her, picked her up, and threw her on the bed.  He climbed onto the bed after her and flipped her over so she was flat onto her stomach, her legs spread apart for him but her ass slightly raised.  She arched her neck to look behind her and saw him hovering over her.  “You think you can play games like that with me and get away with it?” he asked her, his voice low and coarse and his hands went to the small of her back, pressing down so she stayed laying flat on the bed.

“You liked it, didn’t you Mr. Rielly?” she asked, her voice playfully innocent in tone.  “You kept telling me how much you liked it.  You begged to keep me close.”

He leaned forward so he could whisper in her ear.  “Now I’m gonna make you beg,” he said, watching as her lips curved into a smile.  

“Like your good girl?”

“Like my good girl,” he nodded his head.  “I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Yes Mr. Rielly.”

“You can’t cum until I say so.  Understood?”

“Yes Mr. Rielly,” she nodded her head, feeling his body loom over hers.  He was still holding her down so she could barely move.  “Mr. Rielly, if I be a good girl will you spank me?”

Morgan laughed mischievously.  “We’ll see about that.  Maybe if you ask nicely,” he said.  

Without warning, he entered her hard and quick, unable to wait any longer.  Bee cried out automatically at the feeling – everything from the speed, to the size of his cock, to his holding her down, to the angle that he entered her, made him go so deep that she swore she could already see stars.  He didn’t start slow either; he was desperate and needy and didn’t have time for any of that, so he rocked into her hard and fast.  She screamed out in pleasure over and over again, savouring the feeling.  He was being a bit rougher with her than normal, but she loved every second of it.  She wanted it.  She had asked for it, and he had complied.  He was doing exactly what she wanted him to do, and they had the trust in each other to do this.

The way he was holding her lower back down, keeping her in place, meant the angle was deep – and with the force he kept pounding into her with, she knew she wouldn’t be able to last long.  But just as he complied – as best he could, he did slip up twice – to her rule of ‘no touching’, she knew she would have to comply to his rules now too.   “Mr. Rielly,” she said between her screams and moans, “Mr. Rielly it’s so deep.”

“You like it when it’s deep like that, huh?” he asked.

“Your cock is so big and it always goes so deep,” she said, knowing it would stroke his ego.  “Can you spank me, please?”

She heard Morgan huff out a laugh, barely missing a beat as he continued to fuck her.  “No.”

“But Mr. Rielly--”

“No.”

“Please Mr. Rielly, I want to be spanked so bad.”

“I don’t think you’ve earned that yet,” he threw her own words back at her.  She almost regretted the decision to use that language when she was teasing him – almost.  But there was no way she could ever regret anything that brought her so much pleasure.  “You have to beg, remember?”

Morgan could hear her whimper.  “Pleeeease Mr. Rielly.  Please spank me.”

She felt one of his hands leave the grip he had on her lower back and she prepared herself.  Instead, she felt him grab her hair and tug her towards him, so her back was flush against his chest momentarily.  His hand snaked around and went to her clit, and he bit down on the skin of her neck before moving up to her ear.  “Beg.”

“Please Mr. Rielly,” she was practically on the verge of tears.  “Please please please, I’m begging you to spank me.”

“If I spank you are you gonna cum?”

“No,” she answered automatically, shaking her head slightly.  “Not until you tell me to.”

He smiled, a throaty laugh escaping him.  “That’s right.  That’s my good girl,” he cooed, pushing her back down so she was flush against the bed again.  With one hand on her lower back holding her down, the other hand spanked her ass.  She let out a cry of pleasure, and with another spank, another cry.

“Harder,” she mewled out

“Harder?”

“Fuck me harder, Mr. Rielly.  Spank me harder.”

Her spanked her again, red marks already appearing on her ass from before.  He rubbed the area gently before spanking it one more time.  “You want to cum, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, not bothering to hide how close she was.  “I want to cum so bad.”

“If I spank you again will you cum?” he asked.  Bee nodded her head.  “Then no.”

“No, please,” Bee cried out.  “I can’t – I won’t--”

“Are you going to take more like a good girl?” he practically growled out, holding her down again with both hands now.  

Bee didn’t answer automatically this time.  She was trying to regain composure, trying to regain whatever semblance of sanity she had left in her body.  “Y-Yes…” she whispered, barely audible.

“Are you going to take more like a good girl?” Morgan asked, louder to insinuate how loud he wanted her to be.

“Yes,” she said aloud.

“Like my good girl?”

“Yes!” she screamed out.  “Like your good girl.  Always your good girl, Mr. Rielly.”

Morgan continued pounding into her for a while, even harder than before.  Bee’s cries became louder, as did the sound of cock throbbing in and out of her hot core.  With the prelude leading up to this, the dirty talk, the sound of Bee’s moans and cries, and the fact that he probably could have cum while sitting in that God forsaken chair if Bee had grinded down on him just one more time, he was surprised to have lasted this long anyway.  He could feel his body getting flushed and hot and knew he was close.

“Are you ready for my cum, Briony?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Rielly,” her voice was coarse from all the noise she was making.  “I’m always ready for your cum.  Always.”

He spanked her again a few more times for good measure, getting some more desperate cries out of her, before tugging her hair one last time to bring her back against his chest.  “You’ve been such a good girl,” he cooed as he gave her a sloppy kiss.

“I love it when it’s like this,” she managed to get out through hooded eyes and desperate whispers.  “I love it when I’m your good girl.  When you take me from behind.  When you fuck me like I’ve never been fucked before.”

“You like me fucking you hard and fast?”

She nodded her head.  “I love it so much Mr. Rielly.”

He snaked a hand around her body and began rubbing circles on her clit.  “You ready to cum, Briony?”

“Yes.  Fuck, yes.  Please.”

“When I spank you I want you to cum,” he instructed her.  “And I don’t want you to stop.  Understood?”

“Yes.  Yes yes yes yes,” she said in hushed whispers.  

Bee waited a few moments, and when she didn’t feel the hard smack on her ass she whined.  She waited for another few moments – and still nothing.  She was desperate.  She was going to kill him.  She was going to cum any second.  “Mr. Ri--”

Smack!

She cried out, loud, her orgasm pulsating through her like a tidal wave, her entire body shaking and her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.  Morgan continued to pound in and out of her with his throbbing cock, while his hand continued to rub at her clit, giving her orgasm after orgasm, over stimulating her just how she liked it.  After what felt like a million of them – a million different orgasms, a million different cries, a million different moans and desperate shouts of his name – she finally, finally, felt his hot cum pour into her, filling her up as his cock twitched and throbbed inside of her.  She felt his body shake against hers, his own moans and desperate calls out of her name filling the air as they rode out their orgasms together, clinging on to one another.

Bee swore she could still feel an orgasm ride through her entire body as he pulled out, the both of them collapsing on the bed trying to catch their breath.  Her core was still so hot and sensitive as she curled up in Morgan’s arms, both their bodies hot and glistening with sweat.  She was surprised the lingerie made it through – that Morgan didn’t rip it off half way through or take it off with his teeth or something.  She was glad it got this reaction out of him.

“Bumblebee…” she heard Morgan’s voice, barely above a whisper.  “I wouldn’t have done that with anybody else but you.”

She smiled, curling further into his body.  “I wouldn’t have done that with anybody else either,” she responded, reaching down below their bodies to grab hold of his cock.  “Thank you for indulging me.  For giving me exactly what I wanted.”

“I love you so much,” he mumbled, feeling her put his softening cock at her core again, the heat still so comforting.  “I love you.  I love you.  I love you.”

***

Bee was a bit sad to leave Kelowna and the Okanagan area, after having experienced its beauty, great weather, and lovely people, but she had to remember she had Connor, Andy, and Shirley Rielly waiting for her on the other side, eagerly anticipating her presence in Vancouver for the second time that year.  Earlier that morning, she and Morgan had checked out of Hester Creek Winery, where they had been staying for the past three nights, and loaded everything into their rental car for their five hour road trip to Vancouver.  After a last minute stock up of the wine from the winery, and a very last minute stop at Tim Horton’s for some coffee and snacks to sustain themselves (like good Canadians) they were on their way, the GPS system directing them where to go.

“You tell me anytime you want to stop to take pictures,” Morgan said as they took the on-ramp onto the highway.  “It’s going to be a pretty scenic route.  Especially when we drive through the provincial park.”

“I will,” Bee smiled, stuffing a Timbit into her mouth before feeing Morgan one.  “I’ll try not to stop too much.  I don’t want this trip to take eight hours.”

“Nuh uh,” Morgan shook his head.  “You just tell me whenever you want to stop.  We can take ten hours.  It doesn’t matter.”

“Your parents are expecting us for dinner.”

“We’ll call them and tell them there’s traffic,” he said, his mouth still full with the Timbit.  He winked at Bee as she gave him one of her looks.

Morgan reached over the console and grabbed her thigh, exposed thanks to the pretty sundress she was wearing, squeezing it gently as the road opened before them.  It was there for a while, as they continued to drive on the open road, occasionally squeezing and massaging her skin before it crept higher and higher, getting dangerously close to her core.

“Keep your eyes on the road, you perv,” Bee placed her hand above Morgan’s to stop it from going any higher.  If it did, she knew he’d probably swerve off the road.

“I am keeping my eyes on the road,” he reasoned.  “My mind, on the other hand, isn’t on the road.”

Bee snorted, shaking her head playfully.  “You want to fuck me in this rental car, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

She couldn’t help but snort.  At least he was being honest.  “Why’re you so horny all the time?” she giggled.

“You make me.”

“If you keep it up we’re gonna end up having ten kids.”

There was a silence between the two.  It wasn’t awkward, or charged, or because either was tongue-tied and didn’t know what to say.  It was just…a silence.  A comfortable silence, the road of the car on the road filling the void, until Morgan spoke first.  “We’re not having ten kids.”

Bee couldn’t help but smile.  “No.  Definitely not.  I’m not doing that to my vagina.  We’re not the Duggars.”

“Two or three is good,” he said.

Bee nodded her head in agreement.  “Two or three.  One of each.  Whatever happens first.”

Morgan took his eyes off the road to look at her.  She noticed his smile.  How he was looking at her; like he’d just laid eyes on the image of perfection.  “Yeah.  You…you’ve thought about it, then?”

Bee nodded her head.  If she thought about the wedding, and establishing a life together, there was no way she didn’t think about kids either.  “Of course.  You know I want kids.”

“I know.  But like…”

“I want kids with you, if that was going to be your next question,” she said.  “I mean, there’s no question.  It’s you.  I’m not having anybody else’s kids.  I’m having your kids,” she stressed.  

“Okay,” he said, unable to contain the smile on his face.  “I uh…yeah.  Okay.”

“Tongue tied, are we?”

“No,” he kept trying to contain his smile.  “Not at all.  Just glad you’ve thought about it too.  That’s all.”

“I know…I know you’ve always initiated these conversations in the past,” she said, thinking out loud at this point.  “Whether drunk or tipsy or not.  But I think about this stuff do.  I do love you more than I can describe with words.  I just…I think because of my background, because what I’ve been through, I’m a bit less open about it.  Because my mom never wanted to hear it when I was a young kid, and because I never really loved her later on growing up.  But I do love you.  And like…I want everything with you.  A life.  A house.  Children.  I may not vocalize it, but I do.  And I don’t picture myself having all those things with anybody else.  I only want it with you.”

Morgan flipped his hand so he could hold hers and bring it across to his lips so he could kiss it and hold it across his chest.  “I only want it with you too,” he said, his lips rubbing against her hand.  “I’ve only ever wanted it with you.  And I want to give you all that.”

“I want to give it to you too.  This is a relationship.  A partnership.  We can give each other these things,” Bee clarified.

“Yeah.  You’re right.  That’s what I meant,” he nodded his head again, correcting himself.  “We can give each other these things.  A life.  A house.  Children.  But not for a while – children, anyway.  We…we’re already building a life together.”

“We are.”

“Everything else will come in time,” Morgan said confidently.  “I’m just…I know I’ve told you this before, but I thank my lucky stars every single day that it’s you in this life with me.”

Bee smiled again, unable to keep her eyes off of him.  “And I thank my lucky stars you sent a mojito to my table.”

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly imagines #morgan rielly fic #morgan rielly fan fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs imagines #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fan fic #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fan fic #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fic #hockey fan fic #alone together series

[tchaikovsky-at-midnight]

and the air’s getting thin

@crown-of-the-circus-king asked:

Okay I'm a slut for hurt!Barnum, especially if Phillip is being super protective. If you're looking for a more specific suggestion, maybe there's some sort of accident in the circus building that injures him (I don't mean a black eye, I mean broken bones and stuff bc something is wrong with me for me to seek this stuff out). If you're not comfortable with that, that's okay! Have a lovely day :)

/Ayy nothing’s wrong with you ;) thank you so much, I hope you enjoy it!

This got super long, I might write a sequel if anyone would be interested /

Unbeta’ed, I’m not a native speaker

title from “Who we are” by Tristan Prettyman

(word count: 3069)

[...] But right now is all the matters I could never, love another, like I loved you And we don’t have to understand Fate always has the upper hand And fate choose me and you

this one get’s a special dedication as @fangirl-and-rider fucked up irl bc of barlyle and this is now an attempt to cheer them up

_____________________________________

The circus is buzzing with energy. The troupe prepares for the evening show that takes place in about three hours. They twirl through choreographies, set up what they later have to get out in the ring and adjust everything to prevent last minutes stress. Philip bustles around them, mentally going through his checklist of preparations. He needs to tell P.T. that they are slowly getting out of glitter and have to restock on show supplies in general.

It’s then that they hear a horrifying crash. It only takes seconds until everyone is on their feet, sprinting towards the noise that came from somewhere above them. The upper floors of the building are mainly used for storage, as the floors aren’t very stable. He might not be the most athletic, but adrenaline pushes Philip to the front of their group scurrying up the stairs. They stop appalled.

What once was the staircase to the third floors is a mess of wall fragments, dust and splinters. Anne barely stops Lettie in time, otherwise the bearded woman would have stepped right into some broken glass.

“Oh my god. Please tell me no one went up here.”, Constantine breathes.

It’s all it takes to get Philip out of his shocked state.

“Phineas! Can you hear me?!”, he carefully pushes splintered wood to the side and ducks under some sharp metals. There’s glass from the windows and other sharp splitter all over the ground and walls – or what remains of the walls.

“Philip, no, you’re gonna get hurt.”, Lettie tries to pull him back.

“I am getting hurt? P.T. might be dead! Let me go, get down everyone.”

He finds a crack in between the ruins and squeezes through, one arm over his face as to not get any sharp edges into the eyes. On the other side of the burial like slot it is surprisingly bright. Philip can see why and gasps. Half of the roof collapsed with the top floor. Bricks and dust are all Philip sees. Everything else is buried underneath. No.

“Phineas! Are you here? Answer me!”, he struggles forward and pushes parts of the walls and ceiling out of his way. “Phin, don’t you dare to be dead. I’ll find you and I’ll kill you personally.”

Philip is fighting back tears, his whole form is covered in dust and slivers of wood bore into his hands, arms and legs. He needs to find P.T. he has no choice, he needs to.

“Phin! For God’s sake, gimme’ a sign.”, he tells the vacant air around him. Suddenly he hears the softest noise. He swirls around, not caring about the sharp edges and fragile ground. A cough, there it is again. After a few more steps Philip finds himself confronted with what might have been some supporting framework for the building. Philip kneels down, he brushes some of the dirt away and can shove over some crumbly sections of the walls that collapsed.

“Phin, can you hear me? You don’t need to speak, I’m here.”, Philip soothes and carries on to work bricks and pieces out of his way. He reaches what appears to be a small cavity.

“Oh God...okay, no, don’t move. We’ll get you out of there. Oh thank God, you are alive.” Philip has to tear his eyes from the battered body to get his head clear. He forces himself into an analytical state of mind. The floor is to some extend robust, there is enough space to shove away all that covers the circus king beneath.

He jerks away when a strong hand touches his shoulder. It is some of the men from the troupe and what seem to be some fire fighters and a doctor. Numbly Philip nods his thanks. The troupe thought ahead and immediately sought help, when Philip leaped into the danger area.

Philip lets himself be lead out of the destroyed floor, although his eyes remain fixed on the small hollow that prevented P.T. from getting killed.

One hour until the show starts. Everyone stands at the arena, hesitant to take any action. It’s Charles, who raises his voice.

“What do we do now? Cancel the show?”, all eyes wander to Philip. The young man might stand right next to them bodily, but his mind is miles away. At the hospital they rushed Phineas to.

“Philip?”, Lettie softly speaks to him directly and steps forward. Only when they are facing each other closely, does his gaze shift and he focuses back on reality.

“What?”, he croaks.

“Yes, we cancel, of course. Go, Philip.”, Lettie decides then and shoos everyone away. O’Malley heads off to close the ticket booth and spread the news that there will be no show tonight. Lettie nudges the young man tenderly as he drifted off again.

“Sorry, Lettie. I- what did you want?”, he sighs and buries his face in his hands. He notices just now all the cuts and bruises along his hands up to his shoulders. There might be more along his back and on his feet. But that’s nothing he feels or cares for.

“I want you to go. No show today. Go to the hospital, we are coming around later too. Maybe not all at once.”, she smiles sympathetically. Philip blinks at her. Once her words sunk in, he speeds out of the doors. Lettie looks after him, before she joins the others. They have a lot of work to do and probably should get out of the building, just to be sure.

 Philip reaches the big building faster than he thought was possible. He flies up the stairs, only stops once to ask a nurse, where he is. ‘Who’ she had asked and cost him time, Philip has no patience for discussions. ‘Mr Barnum’. The nurse points down the hallway, while she’s still describing the way, Philip is already taking off.

A white door is his last barrier. And a doctor, an elderly man with glasses.

“Slow down, boy. Can I help you?”

“I need to see him, please. I- is he okay, I need to-“

“Okay, calm down.”, the doctor talks and his voice has a somewhat calming effect. Philip inhales deeply, though still shaky. He nods and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I apologize. I want to see P.T. Barnum, a nurse told me, he is here?”

“That is correct. Are you family?”, the doctor asks.

“Yes. Please, can I go in?” he doesn’t hesitate for a second.

The doctor sighs and nods, but doesn’t step aside. He waits until Philip looks at him again, the young man’s eyes already fixed on the door.

“He got some bad injuries. I think you know that, just, be prepared.” He finally let’s Philip pass.

Philip enters the room quietly, afraid, P.T. might be asleep and doesn’t want to startle him. Antiseptics lay heavily in the air. Philip doesn’t take his time to look at the room, he can’t. All his focus is on the motionless body on a narrow bed. There are some plain stools and Philip gets one to sit down next to P.T. He finds himself unable to sit down. His legs are stuck to the ground, urging Philip to take a good look. He doesn’t want to.

The ringmaster is covered in bandages. Around a patch of gauze on the man’s left shoulder Philip sees large purple bruises, some already yellowing. Angry scratches cover his upper arms, two of his fingers wrapped tightly in more layers of bandage. To some degree Philip is relieved the thin blanket doesn’t allow his eyes to see how Phineas’ body looks farther down. Eventually he sits down and decides to keep his gaze on the man’s face. His jaw is bruised and nose slightly crooked. Philip can only assume he broke it. There’s a cut above his right eye, splitting his eyebrow nearly in the middle. Philip still can’t imagine anything more beautiful, despite all the broken parts and bloody cuts.

Philip props his elbows up on his knees and leans forward. He is prepared to stay here for a while. Maybe fortunately, he is too shocked, to really think about what happened. About what could have happened. As for now, he is grateful, Phineas is alive.

“...’Lip?”

Philip’s head shoots up so fast it hurts his neck. P.T. tilts his head to the side and crookedly grins at the younger man. Philip is unable to reply, he stares.

“...hey. I heard...you thinking.”, he explains and his eyes travel down his body. Philip observes the emotions flitting over the damaged face. Surprise, relief, annoyance, hurt, relief. The circus king finishes his body evaluation, he looks back at Philip. Either Philip says something now, or P.T. might think he froze. Philip still can’t get a sound out, he stares at P.T. and helplessly feels his eyes water. Although his conscious didn’t allow the thought, some part of him must have prepared him to never see or hear the other man speak again. That he lost him forever.

“Am I in...heaven?”, P.T. asks and Philip pulls himself together. He smiles.

“I’m afraid to say no. Welcome back.”, more words than he trusted himself to produce in the first place.

“Because...you said, you-would...kill me. Thought I might...be dead.”

“Th-that was a joke. I was so worried, I didn’t know what to do, what I would do if-“, Philips voice breaks and with it the walls that kept his tears at bay.

“It...is fine. Come here?”, Phineas faintly pleads.

Philip looks him over with hesitance; he doesn’t want to hurt him more. P.T.’s twitching fingers and dark eyes pull him up on his feet although he remains reluctant. He gently sits down at the edge of the bed and let’s his fingers brush over Phineas’ own. The older man sighs.

“Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.”, Philip smiles in spite of the tears rolling over his face in hot streams. The drop on the blanket and Phineas’ wrist.

“I’ll be..okay. Just need...a bit...time. Show...tomorrow?”

Philip gapes at the sly grin the ringmaster dares to wear. He closes his hand around P.T.’s and wipes his tears away with his other hand. He shakes his head and bows down, their noses nearly touching.

“You must be kidding me.”, Philip hiccups through the new tears.

“I’m gonna tie you to this bed if I have to.”, he adds with a grin that develops into a lightened laugh.

“I’d like to...see you...try. Philip?”

“Yes?”

“Come closer.”, P.T. repeats himself and Philip wonders a second too long. As a result, Phineas tugs at his hand and Philip, not wanting to have P.T. move at all and rather rest his body, complies hurriedly. He all but falls into a tender kiss.

“You need to get better, you know? Rest and heal.”, Philip pouts when he draws back. Phineas sighs exasperated, only to groan. Philip concludes that even breathing must hurt him.

“I’m fine. What I need...is you.”, he replies. Philip closes his eyes and places a soft kiss on P.T.’s forehead. He keeps their hands linked together, but get’s back on the stool. He drags it so close he is practically on the bed, but he doesn’t want to strain the hurt man’s body any further.

 Two weeks later the troupe is unsettled. Over the last days they put on the show again, Philip came back to take over P.T.’s part and they really needed the money. Luckily some inspectors told them, the building was safe. They spent days sorting through the destroyed upper parts.

Yesterday P.T. announced he won’t stay any longer at that ‘Godforsaken hospital and if he has to crawl out of it’. As it is, Philip doesn’t like the thought of him crawling out there. So he offered to pick him up and they’d make their way to the circus.

During his visits – Philip spent most of his time at P.T.’s side – he registers the full extent of injuries. Despite his snarky attitude, P.T. was far from fine. As he continued to claim so, Philip preferred talking to a doctor. The elder man he met the first day helped him out with some information: Broken nose. Gashes of various degrees on arms, legs and back. Bruised left hand. Remaining scar on the right eyebrow. Bruised rips. Sprained ankle. Possible partial hearing loss on the right ear.

Philip cried again that day.

But today is better. P.T. annoyed Philip for so long, he finally gave in.

“I swear to God, if you move any slower we’re going backwards.”

“Shut up, at least I care about you.”

The troupe shares amused grins, when they hear two familiar voices approaching. Shortly after, Philip pushes the doors open. He supports P.T. with an arm around his waist. For a change, P.T. uses his show cane – to brace himself and do what Philip told him, to treat his body with care.

“You are back!”, Lettie whoops and someone opens up a bottle of champagne.

“Are you serious? No alcohol.”, Philip says and shoots a dark look at Charles, who is in the middle of picking up some glasses.

“What, why?”, P.T. asks and tries to walk the rest of the way without Philip. A stabbing pain in his leg that seems to simmer up to his damaged rips stops him.

“Wait for me, you loser.”, Philip grumbles and nearly lifts P.T. up. They carefully sit down with the others and Phineas continues to cling to Philip for a while. Philip isn’t sure whether it is just to calm his nerves, but he takes it.

“So, you’re back for the next show tomorrow?”, Charles jokes. Philip bites his tongue this time. They are all happy that the show master is out of the hospital and doing comparatively well.

“Ah, I fear, I can’t.”, P.T. grins and wants to reach out. The champagne might be forbidden, but the troupe put a lot of effort into a little table full of snacks, such as sandwiches, some biscuits and fruit.

“No, you stay, where you are.”, Philip stops him and gently draws him closer. When he is sure, P.T. won’t move, he grabs some food and hands it over. P.T. rolls his eyes.

“Honestly, every sentence of yours starts with ‘no’ nowadays.”, the older man teases and takes a bite of the apple Philip got him. “Do you wanna feed me too?”

“This is not funny. Please be careful.”, Philip grumbles.

P.T. just laughs and loops his arm around Philip. The younger man doesn’t meet his eyes and listens to the troupe talking. Well, he tries. He has to concentrate to not overanalyse Phineas. His shoulder and ribs are gradually getting better. Some gashes bled again yesterday. Philip knows now how to switch and apply bandages. They can’t do much about the ankle, except for using the cane.

“Hey, Philip. Dear, you’re a greater mother hen than I am.”, Lettie grins at him.

“I, what?”, Philip murmurs. He must have done what he tried to avoid. He tears his eyes from Phineas and turns to Lettie with pink dusted cheeks. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. We just talked about the next weeks and that it might get a bit complicated.”

“How so?”, Philip wonders and fully engages in the topic.

“Well, with P.T. back-“

“Wait what? Don’t tell me you want him back in the ring now, I-“

“Yes, hello. I am here too, ‘Lip.”, P.T. intervenes. Philip simply puts his hand over the man’s mouth, then turns back to Lettie with an accusing glare.

“Are you insane?”

“No, you didn’t listen to me. The problem is, with P.T. out of the hospital you’ll look out for him constantly. Are you able to leave him alone for the shows and rehearsals?”, Lettie asks, because she knows Philip too well.

“Uhm...-ew, hey!”, Philip pulls back his hand, P.T. licked at that moment.

“Calm down, you need to rest.”, P.T. dismisses Philip’s response with a lopsided grin. He assumes rightly Philip hates this attitude. Especially because Philip might be consequent with health care, but in reality he can’t deny the show man anything. Insulted, the younger man leans back.

“We’ll figure something out, don’t worry. Tonight is supposed to be fun, not worries.”, P.T. announces and gains approving toasts from everyone who got some champagne anyway.

“So, what’s been going on?”, P.T. asks. He knows most of the happenings of course, as he got visits from them every other day. It is still nice to share stories and smile together. P.T. falls back against Philip’s side and suppresses a pained exhale. Maybe he should be a bit more careful. As if Philip has read his mind, he pulls the ringmaster closer and – when he made sure he sits comfortable and so that it’s good for his shoulder and leg – fits himself against the man’s side.

They talk late into the night, Philip laughs here and there, when he pays attention. Which is not too often, because he is focused on Phineas. The injured man talks as excited and dramatic as ever, eats some more and laughs at stories from Anne and W.D. Philip allows himself to relax a little.

Everyone seems content and the night really turns out better, than Philip expected it. Not that he didn’t trust the troupe to organize a nice evening, but he thought it might get more exhausting. It is on the contrary very easy-going. The topics shift, switch and always remain light-hearted. Philip feels his mind wander and quickly notices P.T. wears a similar expression. The taller man turns and slumps down. Philip first thinks it is to relieve some pressure from his leg. While that might be a reason, it was clearly not the reason. Philip sighs and attempts to conceal a pleased smile when Phineas places feather-light kisses on his neck and jaw. He weaves his fingers through the dark hair and closes his eyes.

Philip feels P.T.’s kisses getting longer and slower and slightly nudges him. He doesn’t want to cause a scene. When P.T. stops his actions and simply lays his head on Philip’s shoulder, the younger man grins. Non-verbal communication appears to work. He looks down on Phineas and notices the man has fallen asleep.

“You two are way too adorable.”, Lettie declares. Philip grins embarrassed, but doesn’t stop caressing P.T.’s curls. He sighs contently. They would make it work and P.T. would get better. They just had to take their time.

#ayyyy #someone talked to meee #barlyle #pt barnum #philip carlyle #fanfiction #prompt #phillip carlyle #the greatest showman #greatest showman #tgs #that was long lol #leave feedback

[camachameleon]

Cam’s Voltron Fic Rec 2/∞

VLD Fic Recs:  [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms. ( ** =  favorites )

  **Beacon by glitteringconstellations (also on tumblr)

Word count:  43,288 (10/?)

Summary:  An emergency mission to answer a distress call wasn’t unusual. The urgency in Allura’s voice wasn’t necessarily unusual, either—she was very much of the mind that Voltron was obligated to answer every single distress call brought to their attention. Being the defender of the known universe came with a certain number of responsibilities, after all.

But seeing the pinched, pale look on both Allura and Coran’s faces when they converged on the bridge was unusual. "The universe is vast even in terms of those planets still yet beyond the grips of the Galra. But…. the distress call came from the Terra Firma Quadrant.”

Earth.

Comments:  Back to Earth AU. Reunion fic. This one occasionally flips pov to some characters on Earth so we get to see their reactions to the gang’s initial disappearance and then the realization that they are not alone in the universe. This fic is so different from the other Back To Earth ones I've read, all the little details make it feel so real. A song that I feel sets the mood for this fic is Home and It Goes On.

  don't go (i can’t follow) by My_King_And_Your_Lionheart

Word count:  10,670 (5/5)

Summary:  Keith’s shirt falls to the floor and Shiro gets so distracted by the ink on his skin that when he finally realizes Keith was trying to flip him, he’s already on his back. With the mismatched ‘Never tell me the odds’ pressed against his throat, Shiro thinks he could fall in love like this.

Comments:  Part 1 of the series blame it on the stardust which is partway through its second installment just pretending to know. This is a Sheith fic featuring tattooed!Keith. Also, my favorite part is the OG GARRISON TRIO AKA Matt/Shiro/Keith bonding bc they are my favorite friendship group ugh. Also Keith’s adoptive parents are super awesome like seriously I love them so much. This one ends with the start of season one basically, and Part 2 kinda picks up from there.

  i want your heaven and your oceans too by mothpoem

Word count:  11,622 (1/1)

Summary:  “Not—not that you’d be my rebound! I mean, you’d be helping me take my mind off of this guy, but to be a rebound, I’d have to have dated him first, I think, and he doesn’t even know I like him, so. You wouldn’t be a rebound. At worst, we become badass partners-in-crime with a grudging respect for each other, at best, we’re soulmates for life and this is fate trying to help us find happiness. So. Um.” Lance swallows and looks up at the Blade of Marmora soldier through his lashes. “What say you?”

They look down at their hands for a moment, fingers twisting together in deep thought. Then they’re pulling their gloves off, revealing pale, half-bruised knuckles of the human variation, and their mask is dissolving, giving way to big blue-purple eyes and an achingly familiar jet-black cowlick. “Who,” says Keith Kogane, in that low-pitched rumble that makes Lance’s stomach roil in the good way—holy fuck—“is this guy you’re trying to get over?”

Comments:  Lots of Lance whump. And obviously this is Klance endgame. I just love how far this goes before Lance finds out its not just some random bom guy. Lance is such a sassy guy when he’s in danger and it really comes out in this fic. Add in a heaping tablespoon of protective Keith and you’ve got yourself the perfect post-s4 voltron fanfic right here.

  Burn Break Crash by NaryCanary

Word count:  97,758 (17/?)

Summary:  When Katie "Pidge" Holt arranged a special road trip with her boyfriend that doesn't go according to plan, she somehow throws herself in an unexpected predicament and now must take responsibility for it. What is it she must do? Take Keith Kogane - an attractive, mysterious, arrogant guy from school - on the road with her across the country.

Growing up, Pidge was always taught to look both ways before crossing the street to avoid accidents. Nobody ever told her what to do if her life happens to go up in flames.

Comments:  Slowburn Kidge roadtrip AU. Background Shallura. This is a college AU that feels very raw to me idk. Like its not just all fluff and comedy, its also angst and comfort and thrilling in all the ways. The way their conversations flow and relationship develops is so natural and un-forced. This fic really made me like Pidge a lot more after reading. Even if you don’t ship it romantically, it really makes you appreciate the fiery, explosive bond between them. Platonic Kidge is also something I started exploring because of how much I loved the interaction with these two.

  **Entangled by Purpleneutrino (mackerelmademedoit)

Word count:  101,859 (12/12)

Summary:  When Keith found himself mentally linked to Lance of all people, he never thought that it would end in anything but irritation and misery on both sides. He certainly never imagined that it would be a useful asset in team Voltron's fight against the Galra Empire. Now if he can just keep his feelings in check, they might actually have a chance at defeating Zarkon.

Needless to say, when he'd wished for a 'bonding moment' with Lance, this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind.

Comments:  Klance with eventual mature content. Whump for both parties in this fic, and lots of angst. Also super-protective-over-Keith Shiro, which is my fav. A warning that this is very slow burn. I mean look at that word count. It’s amazing tho bc we get so much of this goodness. I love Stuck-Together and Forced Co-Dependency Tropes and this satisfies both. These two are forced to show so much vulnerability to each other and get so much closer as a result.

  **Keith’s ‘Physical Contact’ Initiation Program by alisayamin (sh_04e)

Word count:  26,522 (6/6)

Summary:  Keith didn’t move and neither did Pidge. It was a little awkward until Keith finally said, “Maybe we could officially officiate this..?”

“What do you mean?”

“Fist me.”

Pidge recoiled and sputtered, “Keith, what the f-” She was cut off by Shiro’s bellowing laughter from the observatory deck.

With his straight face unchanged, Keith lowered his left hand with the stopwatch and lifted his right hand, fisted.

Pidge actually sighed with so much relief, “OH. You mean fistbump! Right.” She slapped her forehead to remove the very very wrong image her imagination drew for her, “Holy shit, Keith, we need to work on that but yeah sure, I’d be honoured to officiate your physical contact program whatever.”

Or

That one time Coran realized Keith was too distant and decided to make him undergo the 'Physical Contact' Initiation Program which then led to --> 5 times the paladins realized Keith was an actual cat.

Comments:  I. LOVE. THIS. STORY. ugh. Keith bonding with everyone through hugs and cuddles, man. That is all that needs to be said. Oh and also Keith whump plus lots of comfort. Also Matt&Keith bros and Pidge&Keith bros is life. And super-protective-over-Keith Shiro. LITERALLY EVERYTHING YOU COULD EVER WANT ALL IN ONE GLORIOUS FIC. But seriously in this one, Keith unashamedly knows he wants physical affection, he just struggles with how to ask for it.

  **Antidote by salineshots

Word count:  92,440 (11/?)

Summary:  Based very loosely off of @eyugho’s lovebug AU, which I love more than anything?? Thanks to them for starting this wonderful AU!

Keith's bitten by a lovebug, but this one doesn't make him all cuddly. Instead, every moment he spends away from Lance is physically painful for him, and every moment he spends touching him is really, really nice. That's frustrating enough already without Keith having to hide his massive crush.

Lance just wants to help, but he knows that Keith doesn't like to be touched. Also hiding a massive crush, because these two are horrible at communication.

Comments:  Slowburn Klance with so much Keith whump and comforting and supportive Lance. I really like this version of the Lovebug AU, especially bc it basically doubles as one of those Stuck-Together Tropes, and also they become super co-dependent on each other which is also nice because we get to see all their vulnerabilities and insecurities forced into the spotlight.

  Muzzled by Emls479

Word count:  5,181 (1/1)

Summary:  The blade of Marmora aren't the only ones with time altering technology. Days on the outside can be months within. Keith finds this out a little too late.

Comments:  This is more than a little dark and also I cried so watch out if you don't like hardcore whump on our boy keef who really needs more hugs.

  Yes, Sir by mikkimouse

Word count:  8,302 (1/1)

Summary:  “Are you all ready to get started?”

“Yes, sir!” twenty voices answered in unison.

Shiro’s stomach flipped at the words. Oh, no.

The soul mark on his right wrist burned, confirmation that his soulmate was one of the twenty people who’d just uttered the phrase.

Oh, shit.

Comments:  All 3 Works in this series are so great. Not just bc its a Sheith Soulmate AU, but also bc its just the perfect mix of funny, angsty and fluffy.

  VLD Fic Recs:  [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms.

#Voltron Fic Rec List #Klance fic #Sheith fic #galra keith #kidge fic #whump #soulmate au #love bug au #langst #Cam's Voltron Fic Rec #VLD #fanfiction #slowburn #bonding #in your orbit #mine #vfr