#*jaws music plays as I slide into everyone's ask boxes*

[punishereditz]

Playing Dirty

Pairing: Adonis Creed x f!reader

Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Boxing. Play fighting. (No one gets hurt) Smut. Semi-public sex. Unprotected sex. P in V. Fingering. Dirty talk. Praise kink. Size kink. Lots of teasing.

AN: This is a request post for @bqtmanz I hope that you enjoy this!

Summary: Don decides to take training a step further.

~

It was late, but Adonis didn't care. He ran outside in the Philly streets anyway. He couldn't sleep, he had too much on his mind and he knew he wouldn't get any sort of rest until he blew off some steam.

He ran past the gym, and quickly came to a stop, backing up, seeing that the lock wasn't on the door. He looked around before he tugged at the door. It slowly opening. He looked around once more before he made his way up the stairs.

"Unc? You here?" He called out but there was no response. He called for all the others, but once again, no response. He got to the top of the stairs, the sound of one of the bags being punched filling the quiet gym. Then you quickly came into view. You were letting lose into one of the bags. Small grunts coming from you with each punch. Sweat dripping from your body.

He tried getting your attention, calling your name, but you were in your own little world. You had your headphones on, listening to your music, not being able to hear a thing. Having no clue he was there and that he was making his way closer to you.

He stood by you, chuckling at your obliviousness. He gently placed his hand on your shoulder. You jumped back, and before you could think, you swung at him, but he quickly dodged it. You blinked a few times, realizing it was Don, you slide your headphones off.

"Wow, it's just me. You trying to knock me out here?" His smile was wide.

"You can't sneak up on me like that." You panted. Resting your hands on your hips. Looking into his doe eyes. He looked around the empty gym, then back to you. His eyes ghosting over your figure.

"What are you doing here? Where's everyone else?" He asked.

"Everyone's done left. I asked if it was okay if I trained for a little longer and they said it was fine as long as I did all the closing up work." You explained.

He nodded, wetting his lips with his tongue. "Rough day?" He said curiously. He knows by the way you were punching the bag that something was wrong.

"That's an understatement. And you? Rough day?"

"Yeah, something like that."

You nodded. "Come on." You nudged his shoulder as you walked by. Going up to the ring and climbing in.

"We seriously doing this?" He gestured to you. A grin tugging at his lips.

"We seriously are. I ain't got all night. You want to train, or not?" You rested your arms against the rope. Smiling down at him. You put your mouthpiece in.

He didn't waste another second. He went and got his gloves, putting them on, smiling to himself the entire time. He got into the ring with you, putting his mouthpiece in. Stretching his arms, he looked deep into your eyes as he did so.

"I'll make sure to go easy on you." You laughed at him. Shaking your head.

"I wouldn't be stressing about that if I was you." You both begin to move in circle. Looking into his eyes, you knew he wasn't going to throw the first punch. So, you lifted your hands, throwing him your right hand and he moved out of the way.

"You really going to hit me sweetheart?" His voice was all teasing as he came to a stop. Looking down at you, there was a challenge in his eyes. Like he was just daring you to hit him. A look like he didn't really believe you would actually do it. But you do, you hit him right in the jaw while he is distracted by you. You chuckle at his shocked expression.

"Alright, alright, I see how it is." Don takes a step back. His lips curling up into a grin, not being able to hide it. His eyes are carefully watching your body. How your arms are flexing. Your breast lightly bouncing with each step you take.

He will happily admit that he is distracted by you. He could care less about training at this moment. He just wants to see that smile from you when you get pleased with yourself. The way you tilt your head at him. The way you move your body. The way you grunt. He loves to see you get determined about something. See how stubborn you get, and see you get all frustrated when something isn't working.

He is memorized by you. How your hair swings with each punch you dodge form him. How your body flows and sways. Moving perfectly along with him. It's a dance, and the both of you are doing each move effortlessly. It's elegant in its own way. It's intimate. With each punch and kick, the tension grows stronger between the two of you.

He lays a punch on your jaw, and you smile at him. "Is that the best you can do?" Your smile grows impossibly wider.

He tilts his head down. This darkness growing in his eyes that makes shivers run down your spine. Before you can even blink, he swops behind you, grabbing your arms and pinning them above your head. Your body pressed to his. He leans his head down, his lips a mere inch away from your neck. His hot heavy breath against your skin.

You squirm against him. Trying to escape, but his grasp on you is too tight. He chuckles in your ear before he lets go of your arms, shoving you against the ropes. His hand slapping your ass.

You lean against the ropes, taking a deep breath. You turn to see him smiling wildly at you. Entertained with himself. You shake your head, walking back up to him.

You try to kick him, but he grabs your leg before it can make contact with his side. He grabs your other leg, lifting you up in his arms. He slams you down on the floor. Laughing at the surprised look on your face.

"What? I thought you were into playing dirty." He hums, winking at you. Your surprised expression quickly changing to a pleased look as you sweep his leg out from under him. Moving him under you. You pin his hands by each side of his head. Smirking down at him.

"I am." His eyes begin to soften as he looked up at you. A look of lust in them. That playful smile dropping. His lips parted; he took his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes looking from your eyes down to your lips. You moved your head down. Hovering your lips over his, but not touching.

He leaned his head up to close the space between the two of you, but you pulled back. Only letting your lips hover. You let go of his hands, and they immediately went down to your hips. You brought your hands up, taking your gloves off as quickly as you could and spitting your mouthpiece. He quickly followed behind you. Doing the same. He leaned up once again, his hand going to the back of your neck. Pulling you down to his lips.

You moaned against his mouth. Shocked at just how soft his lips were against yours. You grinded your hips, making him pull away. Cursing under his breath, he let his head fall back. He pushed you down on his hips. Making you grind farther down on his cock that is throbbing. He attacked your neck. Placing kisses all over you. Occasionally biting at your skin. His hands moved up your body. Holding your breast in his hands. Squeezing them. A moan slipping from your lips, but he quickly cut you off. Crashing his lips on yours. His hands slide from your breast down to the band of your sprots bra. He tugged at it, and you raised your arms. Allowing him to slide it off of you. His eyes instantly going down to your exposed skin.

"Shit, you're so beautiful." He groaned. You kissed him again. Your hands moving over his muscled arms. Over his biceps and down to his forearms. Then up to his chest. Working your way down until you were gripping the hem of his shirt. He lifted his body up so you could take it off. Throwing it to the side. Your hands went back to his smooth skin. Your hands exploring over his abs.

He laced his hands in your leggings, "May I?" You nodded frantically and he lowly chuckled at your neediness. He slipped them off, throwing them over his head. His hands slowly moved up your legs, stopping at your thighs.

He placed a finger in the band of your panties. He pulled it back, letting it go. Making it snap against your skin. You gasped. Your hands flying up to his broad shoulders for support. He pushed your underwear to the side, dipping his fingers into you. His finger starting to tease your clit.

"Your soaked baby." He mumbled. His fingers traveling down to your entrance, pushing his fingers in. You were unable to hold back your moan, your grip on his shoulder tightening to the point your knuckles were turning white.

He had your head spinning, and had you overwhelmed. Giving you more pleasure than you could ever give yourself. His long thick fingers being able to reach that spot deep in you that makes your stomach turn and your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he curls them up perfectly. Teasing that spot over and over. Pulling you closer to the edge. Your orgasm coming up on you so quickly, it's almost embarrassing.

But you don't really care. When his thumb sneaks up to your clit and starts rubbing it, you clench your walls tightly around him. Moaning his name, your back arching. You grind your hips down on his hand and he lets you. He kisses your jaw. Whispering praises in your ear.

"That's it, baby. Look at you, trying to take what you want. Go ahead. Take it sweetheart. It's yours to have. You gonna come for me pretty girl? Hm?" He whispered the filthy words in your ear. His fingers working faster.

"Oh, yes!" You moaned his name over and over as your climax washed over. As if it was the only word you knew. He helped you down from your high. Not removing his fingers until your breathing started to slow back down and your body started to relax.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth. Looking into your eyes as he sucked all the cum off of his fingers. You swear, looking down at him, it was the hottest thing you have ever seen. But he didn't give you much time to think. His arms wrapped around your waist. Standing to his full height. He sat you down, his lips going to you hungrily. As if he has been starved. He pulled your underwear down. Stuffing them in the pocket of his sweatpants. He then hastily took his own pants off. His hands going to the back of your thighs. Laying you back down. He propped himself up on top of you. His mouth going to your chest. Bitting and licking at your nipples as he took his cock in his hand. Pumping it.

He kissed down your stomach. Making sure to not leave an inch of your skin untouched. He leaned back up over you. Smashing his lips on yours. He grabbed your legs. Pulling them up and on his waist. He took his cock and lined it up with your entrance. Guiding it in. Slowly pushing his long thick cock in.

You whimpered. Your walls clenching to him once he bottomed out inside of you. He stayed still, resting his forehead in your neck. Giving you time to adjust to him before he slowly pulled back. Thrusting back into you. He slowly fucked you. One of his hands squeezing your breast. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he rested his forehead against yours.

You moved your feet to his ass. Pushing him so that he would thrust into you deeper. He got the idea and started to pick up his speed. Starting to pound into you, and it took all your strength to not come already.

He was significantly bigger than you. He was taller than you, and his body was wide. He made you look tiny, but yet he fit so perfectly on top of you. He fit so perfectly in you. He stretched you out immaculately. He touched you as if he already had a hundred times, he touched you in all the right places and in all the right ways. His lips felt as light as a feather as he peaked kisses on your forehead, your nose, temple, cheeks, lips. Every part of your face he could get to. The way he touched your body, the way he whispered praises in your ear, it had your second climax built up in no time.

And his? He is just as on the edge as you. His climax has been building all night. Your walls clenching around him, your hand on the back of his head, moaning his name, it all overwhelms him in the best possible way. It keeps pushing him further.

"Uh, I'm so close baby." He grunted into your ear. You bucked your hips up, moving your hips in time with his and it takes everything in him to keep from spilling over.

"Come for me baby." You did. You soaked his cock. Your second orgasm hitting you even harder than the first one. Your climax sent him into his, and he filled you to the brim with his come.

"Good girl." He placed lazy kisses over your skin. You grabbed his chin, tilting his head up so that you could kiss him. He slowly pulled out of you. Both of you moaning. He rolled to his side. Laying by you. He interlaced his fingers in yours. Bringing your hand up and kissing the back of it.

"I think you should start training me more often."

"Yeah, I think so to."

[emerald-amidst-gold]

21, 27, and 39 for the Inquisitor ask?

Oh boy, oh boy! Guess what time it is?! FANE TIME! 🐉🐉❤️❤️

Thank you so, so, so much for the ask! Let’s talk about my boy, shall we? 🥰

21. Someone is encroaching on their love interest. How do they respond?

I’m gonna say it straight: Fane is fiercely protective of Solas. I mean, what dragon isn’t protective of something they cherish? So, if we’re talking in terms of someone interfering with their relationship, then Fane locks into ‘dragon mode’. He’ll snarl, he’ll snap, he’ll bite out barbed words towards the one that dared try to interfere with the one person he’s loved over two lifetimes. He doesn’t lash out at Solas, even if, for some reason the man would entertain a love lorn fool’s flirtations. Obviously, Solas becomes exasperated by this (on a daily basis, honestly lol), but if Fane isn’t in too bad of a mood, or god forbid, in the middle of battle when it happens, then he and Solas will have chat about the insecurities Fane could be feeling surrounding someone’s disregard and the mage’s own reason for why it happened. Otherwise, Fane tends to seclude himself to try and understand why Solas may have entertained the whole thing to begin with, and it usually ends the same way; with the two talking it out. 

Ohoho, you thought I was gonna say “He destroys Skyhold and tears down the Veil himself!’, didn’t you?! ...Don’t worry. That’s reserved for when he catches Cullen touching his sister. *smiles pleasantly* ..I don’t know why, but that question was so hard for me. You challenge me! *shakes fist* ..don’t stop. I like challenges.

27. As a whole, how do they feel about tevinter + the imperium?

Surprisingly, Fane likes Tevinter as a country like the land and the architecture and the history. Eventually, I plan on writing stuff based in Tevinter as like a prelude to DA4 and I can safely say, Fane adores it. He’s obviously extremely curious about the Old Gods, and why they take the form of dragons, so it serves as both a change of scenery and a source of useful information regarding his kin. Obviously, in the major cities like Minrathrous (i spelled that wrong I know shhh), he can only stay for short periods of time because of his magical sensitivity, but Solas and he work on that for the duration of their operations in the area. 

As a society, however.. Magisters and slavers beware! A dragon has set its sights on you, and you aren’t surviving. Those streets run red with slaver blood, just saying. He is also not keen on the Magisterium. The fact that mages are ruling over people, and the most corrupt are enslaving them makes Fane’s blood boil as it’s indicative to what happened to his kin and Solas’s own people. 

39. If Varric gave them a nickname, what would it be?

Varric actually does give Fane a nickname! Practically when they first meet! Varric’s nickname for Fane is ‘Tempest’ due to Fane’s inclination for being completely calm the one minute, and then striking and tearing into everything like piercing rain and shocking lightning with how furious he can get. Near the end of Inquisition’s timeline, Varric does refer to Fane as ‘Dragon’ without any knowledge as to Fane’s identity. He gives him that because of the occurrences of how Fane ends up starting to protect every dragon they have to fight, actually getting injured the one time he throws himself into one of Bull’s killing blows. My boy can’t take it for much longer, I’m telling you. *sweats nervously*

I’ll be coming for everyone’s Inquisitor’s, just you wait! *laughs evilly*

[nctsplug02]

I need more of CEO Jaehyun cheating

the office wife. || jeong.j

genre: angst and suggestive.

warnings: cheating, mentions of having an affair, sexual touching, sexual texting, mentions of marriage problems, angry jaehyun, jealousy, toxicity, toxic marriage, lots of arguments, possessiveness, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage and crying.

you knock on your husbands door when arriving to his office. “come in!” your husband says and you walk in, sticking your head in first.

“oh, i’m sorry. am i interrupting?” you hold your chest when seeing a women sitting on the corner of his desk with a few folders in her arms.

“mm,” she stands up and sighs. “you’re not. i’m actually on my way out. i’m alex.” she walks up to you and holds out her hand. “hi, i’m y/n.” she nods and gives a quick smile. “i’ve heard a lot about you. anyway, i should be leaving now. it was great meeting you.” she pats you on the arm, leaving you speechless and leaves.

jaehyun grunts as he stands up from his desk chair. “hello, honey.” he walks up to you and takes the bag from your hand. “your mom dropped some off earlier, just a bit after you headed to work. and, she said she wants you to try it first.” he hums, walking over to his desk and undoing the bag.

“what is it?” he takes out the two boxes. “it’s eggplant, pork or beef and i think some tomatoes? i’m not really sure, but! i brought me some too, i was hoping we could eat together?” there was hope in your voice but, jaehyun didn’t seem to sure.

he hisses and pushes the boxes away. “i already actually ate. alex brought me two of her homemade beef sandwiches. it’s amazing! i’ll ask her for the recipe and maybe you could try making it.” you clench your jaw a bit. “sure.”

you pull out the chair across from his desk and you take a seat. “i guess.. i’ll eat by myself.” you grab a spoon and a box.

“so, hon. how come.. i’ve never heard of alex before?” he sighs, signing of annoyance. “y/n—?” he starts but you quickly stop him. “i’m not jealous or anything.. it’s just, i’ve never even heard of the lady. just curious.” you poke around at the food. “wasnt going to assume. just don’t get too into your thoughts.” you nod, sticking a spoonful in your mouth.

you clear your throat when you finish setting up the table. “hon! food is ready!” jaehyun comes in, slowly.

slow as a turtle.

he was on his phone, typing away. typing quickly.

“yeah..” he says slowly and takes a seat. “hon,” you call for him. “put your phone away. it’s dinner time.” he nods and takes a few more seconds to type. “yeah, sorry.” he locks his phone and sets it down on the table.

“you’ve been on your phone a lot, lately.” you take a seat and you pick up your spoon. “yeah, uh.. just been answering some emails.” he shrugs and shoves a spoonful into his mouth.

buzz buzz!

jaehyun quickly sets his spoon down and checks his phone. you watch as the tip of his ears then red as he types away, again.

you sigh, scooting your chair back. “i’m not hungry.” you pick up your bowl and make your way to the kitchen.

music plays and beats as jaehyun talks with his friends. “wait, so how long were you and y/n dating for, again?” johnny asks, watching as you carry the trays of grilled meat inside.

“dated for six years and married for five months.” he answers shortly, quickly chugging on his beer.

buzz buzz!

his friends watch as he quickly picks up his phone and types. “who’s texting?” mark asks and doesn’t get a reply. mark looks at taeyong who shrugs with a frown.

“guys! let’s do cake!” you shout from the sliding door, your hand gesturing everyone to come inside. “finally!” jungwoo and haechan are quick to stand to their feet.

“dude, get off your phone,” johnny nudges jaehyun who looks up. “let’s go!” he nudges his head at his friends running inside. “oh, yeah. sure.” he locks his phone and joins johnny.

it was 11:37PM. still jaehyuns birthday.

“honey?” you walk into the room with a baby blue lace set and your hair poofed up with a sly grin on your face. “what, y/n.” he sighs, staring down at his phone.

“i’ve got a special gift for the birthday boy.. wanna rip it open?” you stand at the end of the bed and you bite your lip. you get no response, silence is all.

“hey, can you look at me?” he looks up with boring eyes. “can you put something on?” ouch. “i.. uh, this is your gift?” you cross your arms, covering your belly. “what is?” you chew the inside of your cheek. “me?” you felt ashamed to admit it.

he looks down at his phone before looking back up at you. “l—look, im really tired, y/n. i have work tomorrow morning. i have to go in early so, i’m really not in the mood to have sex.”

you wanted to cry. you felt so embarrassed and so.. disgusting?

“oh.. yeah, i’m sorry. i’ll go change.” you see him huff and roll his eyes before you leave to change.

you throw the bathroom door close and immediately, you breakdown. bursting into tears and just letting it all out. you lift your head to look at yourself in the mirror.

pure disgust.

your eyes and nose were pink. “he’s disgusted in you.” a voice shouts at you. “you’re disgusting! you’re worthless! he doesn’t love you anymore.” you shake your head, lifting your head high and wiping your tears.

screw what he thinks.

after showering, you walk into the room to see him asleep. you change into your clothes and as you climb into bed, you lay in silence.

a voice telling you to check his phone. his messages with alex.

so you do. stupidly.

your heart ached as you read the messages swapped between the two of them. flirting. sexual questions?

you: Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow morning :)

A: Can’t wait to see U, handsome! Wear ur hair slicked back again. U looks so good looking with that hair style.

you scroll a bit more up to see the messages from earlier today.

A: Is the party that boring? 😕

the party from today? his birthday party?

you: It’s OK right now. I guess it’s fun?

A: If it was fun then U wouldn’t be texting me right now.

you: OK OK, it’s actually pretty boring.

A: Should’ve invited me, I would’ve made it fun… ;)

you: Smart. How can someone be cute and smart at once? ;)

A: Oh, stop it…

you: GTG, doing cake.

A: Hurry and get back to me.. don’t want to leave me lonely do U…? 😕😕

you inhale sharply, locking his phone and putting it back on his nightstand. you wipe your tears and lay yourself back into your spot. you turn to your side so your back is facing his and you hug the blanket against your chest.

is he.. having an affair?

no.. that can’t be possible?

you stayed up all night until jaehyun was up and ready for work. he was humming a tune as he walked inside the bedroom.

he was fixing his slick back. just as she wanted.

“hon?” he looks back at you through the mirror. “is.. there anything going on between you and alex?” he stands up straight and sighs. “again, nothing is going on between us.”

“but, you and her are constantly texting nonstop?” he fixes his tie with a huff. “she’s having marriage problems. i’m just trying to be a good friend by comforting her. stop being so insecure.”

insecure? ouch.

“i’m running late. don’t bothering bringing me lunch. alex said she wants to take me for lunch for my birthday. and, also. don’t wait up tonight. won’t be home until late.” he grabs his jacket and makes his way downstairs.

“i love you?!” you shout before hearing the door slam shut. “and.. i love you too.” you whisper to yourself, feeling yourself tear up, again.

you perk up when hearing the door open. you check the clock hanging on the wall; 6:32PM.

“y/n?!” he calls out and you stand up from the couch. “i—im in here!” you run to the front door to see him with a wide yet tired smile.

“you’re home early?” he slides off his jacket and hangs it on the coat hanger. “yeah, i.. i’ve reflected on my actions lately and i’ve been extremely rude towards you. i made reservations for us at seven, so get ready and we’re gonna head out to this beautiful, fancy restaurant. okay?” you nod, excitedly.

your husband is back?!

you quickly rush upstairs into your room and you quickly take a shower and toss on a beautiful dark blue dress. you put on your pearl earrings and pearl necklace. you dig in your closet for your white heels.

“these are perfect.” you slip on your heels and you examine them. they made your feet look small at perfect.

“hon! i’m ready!” you go downstairs to see him on his phone, smiling down at it and typing.

never mind, he isn’t back.

“great,” he answers without removing his eyes from his phone. “let’s go.” he clears his throat and tucks his phone away.

you follow him to the car and he climbs in without opening your door, which he usually does. it was.. odd?

the car ride was silent, he didn’t speak, nor did you. every red light that you and jaehyun arrived at, hed quickly go onto his phone before it turned green, again.

jaehyun walks inside with his hands in his pockets and asks for his name. “alright, follow me, sir.” you follow jaehyun as he follows the waiter. “and can i get anything for you two to drink?” he asks as soon as the two of you are sat.

“can i have a lemonade?” he jots your order of a drink down and looks towards jaehyun. “just a water.” he nods and goes to the back.

“this is a nice place.. how’d you find it?” he takes a few seconds to answer as he stares down at his phone. “uh.. well, alex recommended it.”

alex. she’s always being mentioned. alex this, alex that.

“oh, alex..” you sit back in your chair, staring down at the menu. “yeah, actually! her and her husband are here, right now.” he looks around to see her waving.

“heyy!!” you glance up to see her standing by jaehyun. “hey, you and donovan grabbing some dinner too?” she giggles and flips her hair back.

as they talk, you sigh as you talk to yourself. “maybe i’ll get the lobster.. ouu, a lobster salad?!” your stomach quietly growls as you read the yummy food listed on the laminated menu.

“sure! sure! you and donavon can come join us, right, y/n?” your head snaps up. “uh.. yeah, sure. i don’t.. mind.” she squints her eyes a bit and smirks. “great.” she struts off and goes to her table.

“couldn’t at least talk it through with me?” he shrugs and softly laughs. “i didn’t think it was such a big deal?” you glance around. “it isn’t.. it’s just—?” then alex arrives with her things and husband.

“hey guys, im don— donavon. just call me, don.” he brings his hand to jaehyun first and then you. “jaehyun.” jaehyun says while giving a firm shake. “and, i’m y/n.” he takes a seat next to you when seeing the seat next to jaehyun was taken.

“have you guys ordered yet?” alex asks, fixing her jacket behind her chair. “nope,” jaehyun answers and she huffs. “great, we haven’t either so, let’s order together!” she claps her hands. “mm, i suggest the paella, it’s so amazing. it’s perfect here, perfectly creamy.” alex shimmies against jaehyun who laughs.

“i need a drink.” you stand up and go to the open bar, leaving the flirting jaehyun and alex alone with her lonely husband.

minutes later, you come back, tipsy.

“welcome back.” jaehyun and alex stop their laughter as you plop yourself back into your seat.

you sigh, lifting your brows. “so, how is your marriage with alex? i heard that you two have been having a few problems— mm, i don’t think a few is the right word but, yeah.”

you watch as donavons’ face turns into a confused face. “what?” he looks at alex, her face absolutely pale. “our marriage isn’t.. we aren’t having problems? who said that?” you smirk and look at jaehyun.

“my husband here and.. your wife have been texting each other.. nonstop about how her marriage is so poor and so messed up. oh,” you look at all three of them. “have i said too much?” a sly grin slowly grows on your face, again.

“i’m sorry about my wife, she’s tipsy and.. she just needs to be in bed, right now.” jaehyun stands up and yanks you out of your seat. “if you can be gentle with alex then you can be gentle with me.” you stumble onto your feet and he drags you to the car.

jaehyun was mad at you.

he drove recklessly and silently. “you can be mad all you want, but clearly. there’s something going on between you and alex.” his grip tightens more and more.

minutes later, he is pulling into the driveway and storming inside. “that was not your place at all, y/n. what you did was stupid and you must apologize to them both immediately!” you scoff, slamming the door shut.

“oh, shut up?! with all the lies you’ve been feeding me, trust me. it was gonna come out sooner or later. and, you know what, answer this. how many times have you both slept with each other.” he looks back at you, stunned by your question.

“i— what?! what kind of question is that?! why would you even assume that?!” you toss your bag on the stairs. “because of the way you and her act! the way you and her constantly text nonstop! i read the message between you two! cutie, handsome?? just office mates?”

“y/n, you’re overthinking this! you’re just letting your insecurities take over you, why are you so insecure?!” his voice gets louder each minute.

you scoff, messing up your hair. “please! and at your birthday party? it’s so boring, you should’ve invited me— bull. shit. if you wanted to spend it with her, you should’ve. i didn’t have to waste $700 on your birthday!”

you could hear him laughing from the kitchen. it was taunting you.

you make your way to the kitchen and you hold your ground. “just.. answer my one question, please.” he turns to you, his slick hair messed up after he pulled it out of stress.

“h—how,” your voice shakes. “have you slept with her?” his jaw clenches as he stares at you. “i..” you inhale sharply, blinking repeatedly as you hold back your tears. “i—it happened several times a few weeks before we s—started dated.”

you bite on your bottom lip as he admits his confession. “great.. that’s.. that’s great.” you sniffle, looking up at the ceiling.

“i want you gone.” his eyes snap up at you. “w—what?” he walks up to you and grabs both of your arms. “baby, please? please, don’t do this.” he slowly moves himself onto his knees.

“no, n—no. you, don’t do this to me.“ you hang your head as he silently pleads. “i want a divorce,” his hands squeeze your arms. “i want you gone,” he lets out a sob. “find someone to live with— the house is mine.” he looks up at you, his face.. oh, his face. the face you absolutely love. the face you absolutely fell in love with six years ago.

“stand up and go pack your shit.” you help him up as he stands up, weakly. “y/n— baby, i love you.. i love you, please?” your eyes twitch at his pleads.

“and i’ve once loved you, too. but, it is too painful to keep this marriage going if you’re just gonna have affairs and.. just.. keep hurting me?” he shakes his head and wraps his arms around you.

these were the arms that held you as you cried. that held you for everything. they were once your home and they were once comforting.

“and, since we’re on the topic of confessing. i was pregnant five weeks ago and was waiting to tell you on your birthday but i ended up having a miscarriage. i needed your love and your comfort but, you weren’t there for me. you were busy getting your dick wet by some chick from your office. so, if you won’t leave then i will. i’m going to be heading to my moms and i’ll be back in a week. and when i’m back, your stuff better be moved out and if your shit isn’t moved out, im tossing it all away.” you push him off you and you rush to your bag, snatching the keys out of your bag and then rushing outside.

that was the last jaehyun had saw you— beside the quick divorce meeting.

A/N: this was different from my other cheating story. this was based off a reddit story and it absolutely broke my heart. IVE BEEN REWATCHING THE VIDEO OVER AND OCER AND JUST CRYING ITS SAD!

sad vid, watch and cry with me.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (Part 25)

Thank you to everyone who has followed along with this little fic and waited until February for me to finally wrap it up! I hope you enjoy.

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

Christmas Eve, One Year Later

"Are you missing being at your dad's for the Christmas Eve party?" Harry asked softly as he held Draco in his arms and swayed him around the living room to the soft Christmas music playing through the wireless.

"Not even remotely," Draco said easily as he let Harry spin him out before pulling him back in again.

He hummed, "I'm glad," he said softly.

Draco curled closer, pressing his nose against Harry's neck, "That's one tradition I really don't mind trading for another. Christmas eve is way better spent at home with you," he added and Harry's entire heart turned into a puddle of goo for the thousandth time.

As the song they were listening to drew to a close, Harry said, "Can I give you one Christmas present early?"

Draco laughed, "Can't wait another ten hours until we wake up in the morning?" he teased.

Harry shook his head.

"Alright, let's see it then," he said, smiling so wide that it made Harry's cheeks hurt in response. Draco turned to the tree, obviously looking to see which one Harry was going to give him from their modest pile beneath.

But Harry didn't head toward the tree, instead he dropped down on one knee and pulled the ring box out of his pocket, opening it so that when Draco turned around it would be the first thing he saw.

(Read more below the cut)

"Harry," he started as he turned to look at him, and Harry saw the exact moment that he realized what was about to happen. He clapped a hand to his mouth.

"Draco, I-" he began.

But the other man dropped to his knees in front of Harry and wrapped his arms around his neck, kissing him soundly around the word "yes" being repeated over and over against his mouth.

"You didn't even let me finish!" Harry protested when they broke apart. "I had a whole speech planned."

"I love you," Draco said, hands cupping Harry's jaw. "I'm sure your speech is lovely but I'm pretty sure that if you don't put that ring on my finger, then start kissing me again, and take me to bed, I'm going to die."

He huffed, joy expanding impossibly large in his chest and Harry was certain at any moment that he was going to simply burst. "In that order?" he asked as he teasingly kissed the other man once more.

Draco laughed, light and breathless, "Let me see my ring," he said, holding out his left hand which was trembling slightly.

Harry slipped on a narrow silver band, holding Draco's hand steady with his own. "You'll get an interlocking piece like this," Harry said as he held up his own engagement ring, "When we actually get married."

"I want to do it," Draco said, snatching the ring that Harry was about to slide onto his own finger and putting it on himself. Draco brought his hand to his lips and pressed a kiss over the ring and Harry's knuckles. "Now," he said, leaning in and kissing Harry once more, "Please take me to bed and love me."

And Harry knew, with absolute certainty, that he was making the best decision imaginable. There would never be anything he wanted more than to spend the rest of his life loving and being loved by Draco Malfoy.

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

Fin.

Part 24: Merry Christmas

[phoebe-delia]

Hogwarts Talent Show Headcanon

Yes, yes this is sorta like my karaoke headcanon but it's different enough so whatever lol. Enjoy! Takes place after the war, so 8th year.

To promote inter-house unity, McGonagall announces the First Annual Hogwarts Talent Show.

Everyone thinks it sounds lame at first, but most of them are intrigued enough to try it once McGonagall says that the winning act will get a prize of a free dinner for two in Hogsmeade.

Everyone will vote on their favorite act, but they vote on parchment that's magically charmed to prevent them from voting for themselves.

The acts are as follows:

Ron burps the alphabet (He can totally do this how is this not canon? It's honestly like 30% of the reason why Hermione broke up with him shortly after the war ended.)

Hermione demonstrates a series of obscure but useful spells to make life easier that she read in random books in the Restricted Section. McGonagall raises an eyebrow knowingly at Hermione as she walks off the stage and Hermione doesn't meet her eyes.

Luna plays the recorder, and it moves a few people to tears with how surprisingly beautiful it is. When she finishes the song, she just smiles at the audience and walks off before they can applaud.

Seamus and Dean partner up for an act. Seamus is center stage, sitting on a stool and holding a banana. Dean is off stage with a microphone, narrating and adding dramatic commentary as Seamus nonchalantly peels and eats the banana. It's the funniest act of the night.

Neville is a surprisingly good DJ. He shows off his remixes and mashups and they're really fun; after the show, McGonagall asks him to be the DJ for the Yule Ball.

Pansy and Draco perform a lip-sync to the "Me Against the Music" by Britney Spears. Ron doesn't notice the way that both Hermione and Harry both go wide-eyed and blush during the performance.

Finally, it's Harry's turn.

Harry walks on stage and grins at the audience.

"For those of us who grew up in Muggle households, it came as quite a shock to find that not only was magic real but that we were magical. We heard of Muggle magicians who performed sleight-of-hand tricks for entertainment, and while the average Muggle couldn't tell you how it was performed, no one believes that magic is real."

"Well today," Harry says with a smirk. "I'm going to bring a bit of Muggle magic to Hogwarts. But I'll need a volunteer."

Countless hands shoot up in the air as students clamor and shout for Harry to notice them, to pick them. While McGonagall tries to settle them down, Harry's eyes search the crowd, overlooking every waving arm to find—

"Malfoy, how about you?"

Draco looks up with a start, trying valiantly not to blush as the entire school stares at him with a mix of shock and jealousy.

Draco shakes his head "Er, Potter, I don't—"

"C'mon Malfoy, what, are you scared?"

As a wave of "Ooohhh"s ripples through the audience, Draco clenches his jaw. "You wish."

Everyone whispers fervently as Draco walks onto the stage to greet Harry, who grins.

"Alright, Malfoy," Harry reaches into his pocket to reveal a deck of cards, which he fans out in his hand in front of Draco. "Pick a card, any card, and don't tell me what it is."

Draco raises an eyebrow, but he selects a random card and examines it; a king of hearts.

"Have you got a good look?"

Draco grits his teeth but nods.

"Good, now put it back." Harry offers the deck for Draco to easily slide the card back with the others.

Draco watches, fascinated, as Harry shuffles the deck. Draco tries to listen to what Harry is muttering about; something about the importance of 'building bridges' and 'healing.' But all Draco can focus on is the easy, practiced way Harry's hands manipulate and shuffle the cards.

Finally, Harry holds out the deck in one hand and uses the other to wave over it. "Abracadabra," he says dramatically, staring intently at the cards as if they hold the secrets to the universe.

Harry steadfastly ignores the mix of bewilderment and suspicion on Draco's face. "Go on, choose another card."

Draco picks one; it’s the ten of spades.

"Is that your card?" Harry asks hopefully.

"No," Draco can’t suppress a satisfied smirk as he shows the wrong card to Harry.

Harry frowns. "Hmm...Okay, let's try again." He clears his throat and repeats the same action as before, this time enunciating the "Abracadabra" a bit more clearly. Satisfied, he looks back up at Draco expectantly. "Pick another, please."

Draco rolls his eyes, but he reached into the deck and pulls a four of diamonds.

"Is that your card?"

"No, Potter."

Harry looks so defeated, Draco has to suppress it when he feels his chest twinge in sympathy.

"Damn. I really wanted to get you that card back," Harry says mournfully.

Draco rolls his eyes. "Yes, so did I. I was quite fond of it."

"Oh, wait, actually, I think I can help you there. Check your pocket for me, would you?"

Draco furrows his eyebrows but he reaches into his pockets, his eyes widening when his right hand clasps a flimsy, smooth plastic card.

He takes it out and gapes at it in astonishment as the words, "Dinner?" flash and settle into the king of hearts. Draco looks up at Harry, who smiles sheepishly.

"So, Malfoy? Was that your card?"

"Yeah," Draco breathes, nodding quickly.

Harry grins. "So...is that a yes, then?"

Two nights later, Harry and Draco sit in a corner booth at the Three Broomsticks. Harry reaches gently behind Draco's ear to reveal a galleon.

Draco surges forward and kisses Harry, and all Harry can think is, Abracadabra, indeed.

My ask box is empty!! Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it.

[angeli-marco-writes]

∘◦ ♪ ◦∘ Timothée Chalamet - Concerto ∘◦ ♪ ◦∘

A/N - I wrote and posted this almost a year ago on my Wattpad. My writing has evolved a lot since then, but I’m still proud of this piece, and hope you enjoy it. I do not know Tim, nor do I claim to in any way. This is a work of fiction and entirely my own. 

Warnings - smut. Detailed (but protected and consensual) sex, slight BDSM, overstimulation. Cursing. Legal alcohol consumption and smoking. Also 10k words of sickening fluff though, even the smut is fluffy.

Summary - At a classical music concert, the last person you expect to meet is a young man as charming and suave as Timothée. And the last thing you expected is for him to invite you back to his flat. Turns out music really is food for the soul, and other things...

IT’S A FRIDAY EVENING IN NEW YORK CITY. The sun is setting behind the towering silhouettes of undulating buildings all across the city, the moon casting shadows all around au contraire to the luminescence of building lights, beaming all around as well as the street lamps, bringing colour and light to people’s faces in the dark.

You’re standing on the pavement outside Symphony Space Concert Hall on the Upper West Side, people watching. Nothing more or less conspicuous, just observing everyone flooding into the hall, though none of them seem to be under 50 years of age. After checking the time, you take your phone out of the pocket attached to your delicate silk jumpsuit you’re wearing for the night, the one reserved for classy parties and sophisticated concerts only (though very handy). You open the email holding your ticket for the evening, a Poulenc appreciation concert, and you show it to the bouncer who grants you entry to the auditorium.

The room looks incredible. Photos of Francis Poulenc, as well as some old parchment sheets of his music spread out delicately over the usually bare walls. The lights create a perfect ambience in the hall for what's sure to be an incredible evening. The red velvet seats are half full, dotted with people at least twice your age, except from one seat near the front where you can see merely a defined jaw and brown curls. On the stage stands two glossy black grand pianos, slotted beside one another with plush velvet stools and their lids propped up, allowing one to see the inner workings of such wonderful instruments. Behind the pianos are seats enough for an entire orchestra, creating a crescent moon shape. A couple of the seats already have instruments atop them, aching for their owners to play beautiful melodies with them. You make your way down to where your seat is, familiar with the layout of the auditorium. You’re on the right hand side of the centre stalls, third row back, but as you arrive, there’s a boy you saw earlier, not much older than yourself.

“Hi, do you mind if I squeeze past?” You ask him, watching his head jolt up from the programme to reveal a mop of beautiful dark brown curls framing his chiselled face, piercing green eyes with flecks of hazel when the light changed direction. You recognise him, an actor, you simply can’t place him.

His look of incredulity melts into a smile. “Sure.” He says, moving his legs so that you can squeeze past and take your reserved seat on his left. He turns to face you, smiling. He’s wearing a crisp navy suit with a pale blue shirt and a matching tie. He looks well presented, and by his nervous and lopsided smile, you guess that he’s rather nervous to be at the concert alone too. “Timothée.” He tells you, holding his hand out.

You return his gesture, smiling right back at him, and tell him your name. “You here alone?” You ask him, turning in your seat to get a better view. He nods.

“Thought I’d be the only under fifty here.” He laughs, “I’m 24 by the way, but I shan’t ask your name since you're a lady.” You can't help but laugh at this, just a little giggle at how sweet he is, but your interaction is cut short as the lights turn down in the auditorium but shine brighter on the stage, and a full orchestra enters the stage, accompanied by their instruments, two pianists and a conductor. Murmurs in the hall settle down to a faint hum while the musicians tune to the sound of the oboe, and then begin to play.

The music is mesmerising, starting with orchestral pieces with faint piano accompaniment, then just a nocturne for piano, split between the two lead pianists. You could listen to it all night, but an interval has to come. As the lights slowly turn back up, you see an infantile smile on Timothée’s face, as though he’s just watched the most excellent thing in the world.

“Come on,” you say to him, smiling sadly while you tap his knee, “let’s get a drink.”

He reluctantly stands up to follow you out of the auditorium and to the small bar area. You order two margarita’s without consulting him, but he seems grateful as you sit beside each other on a high table, people watching once again.

“What's your job then?” He asks you, making small talk.

“I’m a piano major at Juilliard, teaching piano on the side though.” You respond, and he seems really taken aback. His jaw falls a little slack while his eyes bulge a tad.

“Wow, you must be excellent!” You blush a little at his words, elegantly taking a sip from your drink while he eyes you carefully. You feel awkward under his gaze, though flattered nonetheless. He’s gorgeous, and he’s complimenting you and accepting drinks from you, what a night.

“What about you?” You inquire. He's an actor, you know that, but asking means that you may be able to get some more context and maybe it’ll click where you’ve seen him before. He clears his throat, and you can see some older people walking by who pull faces, judging the pair of you, but you brush them off.

“I’m an actor, mainly small films though.” He says, remaining vague. You don’t push much more, realising that he probably likes not being fawned all over for once, so you simply ask of the favourite names he’s had the honour of working alongside, which must be an uncommonly asked question because a light flickers behind his eyes.

“Selena Gomez, Steve Carell, Armie Hammer, Saoirse Ronan, Emma Watson, Robert Pattinson, Maia Mitchell…” He begins to list, but only when he mentions Maia does it click. You aren't huge into films, but you have seen him in a film with Maia Mitchell and Maika Monroe a few years ago.

“Hot summer nights, right? You were in that?” His cheeks turn a magnificent crimson and he bows his head as though embarrassed. He mumbles something along the lines of ‘not my best performance’, but you disagree. “I think you were wonderful, and did you mention Armie Hammer?” He nods again, seeming a little brighter. You take another sip from your drink, and he follows suit, watching your poised movements.

“Call Me By Your Name.” You nod in recognition, you remember watching the film when it first came out and loving the music from it.

“You’re excellent you know, at piano I mean, and the intimate scenes aren’t half bad either, you make them better.” You say with a teasing smirk on your painted lips, making Timothée’s eyes widen again. You chuckle and grasp his hand, dragging him into the auditorium for the second half.

The second half is a whole concerto, Poulenc’s Concerto For Two Pianos And Orchestra. Ten minutes in, Timothée’s hand finds your thigh and seems very comfortable, so comfortable in fact that you don't dare move it. As the concerto flows further on, his hand slides further up your clothed leg and squeezes your upper thigh a little You tense under his touch, infatuation and lust filling every cell and exiting through your pores, just waiting for more passion to fill your body and make you drunk on the feeling.

When finally the concert ends, both of you stand to applaud the musicians for a solid few minutes, and you could swear you see a tear leaving Timothée’s mysterious eyes and rolling down his heavenly made, painfully defined cheekbones. While you clap, you surreptitiously edge closer together, millimetre by millimetre until you’re hip to hip with elbows nudging. Your head comes up to his chin, making you feel a little small, but you’ll feel even smaller once your heels come off. Once the majority of the audience have filed out, you grasp his hand and pull him through the crowds where you stand on the corner of the pavement, only metres from the venue. You’re reluctant to loosen your grip on his slim hand, as he is with yours.

“Cigarette?” He offers, holding a half full box out to you. You half smile and shake your head in refusal.

“I don’t mind if you do though.” You say, meeting his gaze. “I love the taste of smoke when I kiss someone.” You add in a whisper, leaning up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. He goes rigid, making you smirk to yourself. This is going to be a good night.

He lights his cigarette and takes slow drag, only looking away to blow the smoke in an opposite direction to you. How respectful, you think, as your stomach fills with butterflies and bubbles with anticipation. He puts it out on top of a bin and throws it away without littering, and just that small and helpful gesture makes you crave his touch, having his fingers trace your sweaty skin and making your body tingle, your back arch with desire and pleasure.

“Wanna get a drink?” You ask, pointing to a nice bar across the road. You’re desperate to sleep with him, but not without pleasantries first. He, however, shakes his head and intricately entwines his fingers with yours.

“I’ll do you one better than a drink.” His smirk sets off a different kind of longing in you, forcing your body to follow him wherever he takes you.

As you walk, he starts conversation, but you’re so breathless from the desperation speed walking that your answers are brief. He asks you why you attended the concert, only to remember that you’re a music student and piano teacher; so in turn, you ask him the same question.

“When I was doing Call Me By Your Name, I had to learn the piano, and while I was learning classical pieces, I kind of just fell in love with classical piano music, I don’t know.”

His nervousness is sweet, making him appear far more humble than anyone of his stature would usually be.

You get to his building after a twenty minute dash in heels, and he pulls you flush against him while entering through the revolving doors, allowing you to lay your weight on him for a moment while you gather your breath. You feel his heartbeat thudding and racing against his ribs, reverberating against your own chest. You turn around to face him and place your hand on his chest.

“Breathe.” You say to him, allowing him to release a long held breathy chuckle. You leave the doors, both laughing, and fervently press the buttons to wait upon a lift. “So,” You then continue, breaking the silence where only your breaths were heard. “Favourite piano piece from the Call Me By Your Name soundtrack?”

“Hallelujah Junction!” You both answer at the same time, just as the lift doors open. You fall into the lift in a fit of giggles, clinging onto each other. You find yourself with your back pressed against the cold metal handle bar in the elevator with Timothée’s face inches away from your own. Your breath mingles together. As soon as he presses the button to his floor, he nudges his nose with your own.

“God, you're so beautiful.” he says seconds before his mouth is pressed hotly against your own, kissing you with an unrivalled passion. Your lips mould and move together like it’s second nature. His one hand holds your waist while both of yours grip his face, feeling a slight stubble.

The lift dings and he drags you out, unlocking his apartment door and leading you inside.

“Welcome to Casa del Timmy.” he says while hugging you from behind, allowing you to get a full view.

His apartment is stunning. Sleek, yet also vintage. Your eyes follow across the perimeter through a door to the left, where he has an office area containing a sleek white desk with a mac and a stack of papers and pens, next to it is a vintage white bookcase stacked as high as possible with novels of all shapes and sizes, and even an indie style rug underneath a colourful modern dining set..

The door next to the office is a kitchen, white countertops with wooden cupboards and a beautiful view of the city out of the window. To the right is a set of glass doors that open onto a small balcony where you can see the whole city, even Manhattan and Brooklyn depending which way you look and how the moon beams down. There’s a closed door right in front of you and through the entry hall and living room which you assume is his bedroom held behind a golden doorknob.

His living room, where you remain standing, holds an array of house plants with a couple of very comfortable looking plush sofas, his TV stand as well as his coffee table look like polished vintage items, refurbished from a flea market maybe, while his book shelf and rug are grand and modern. The best part of all though is a grand piano in an oak wood, matching the wood from his television table, and you become instantly entranced by the instrument that you don’t even notice the velvet stool or the perfectly organised cabinet of music, with a guitar propped up against it.

“Wow.” You breathe. Timothée grips you tighter, trailing kisses across your shoulder and up the side of your neck, inhaling every few seconds to treasure the scent of your perfume. Gardenia, rose champagne, grapefruit, davana; heavenly. You grip his hands with your own, holding them tightly where they’re settled on your tummy. You roll your head against his shoulder to give him better access to kiss you, but he stops abruptly and leads you to the piano stool. He opens the cabinet and pulls out a well loved piece of music.

“I know it’s for two pianos, but let's have some fun.” He says, grinning at you, an infectious smile that you can’t help but return. Hallelujah Junction, first movement. He puts the music out on the piano and takes a seat beside you, your thighs touching and hands overlapping as they begin to glide over the keys.

Playing this piece is second nature to you, allowing you to find your way easily, slipping your fingers between Timothée’s, and the white and black keys. You begin a harmonious melody spanning the whole of the piano, but after only a couple of pages, you realise that its not working as your notes cross over, making it very difficult to play on just one piano. You laugh together, but only for a moment before he is trailing his tongue up your neck, then your lips, and delving inside your mouth. You gasp, moaning into the passionate kiss that he’s giving you, and within seconds you find yourself straddling his lap on the piano stool. You trap his thighs between yours, moving and grinding your hips a little against his to receive more friction where you can feel how needy he is.

Within seconds, he has your legs wrapped around his waist and his teeth on your clavicle. The pleasure makes sounds escape your lips that you didn’t even realise were possible. You knot your ankles as he stands up with one hand around your waist and the other feeling his way around his apartment. After a few funny missteps and close calls of him dropping you while only walking the expanse of his living room, he pins you against his bedroom door, finding your lips again

He gently pokes at your dusty pink bottom lip with his tongue, slipping his tongue back into your mouth, exploring avidly and devouring every taste of you that he can muster. You do the same, but become too infatuated by his taste to put much more passion into it: gin, mint, bergamot and smoke. Smoke, sugar and sin, the most deadly combination of them all, and that's all you can smell on him, making you moan even louder. An erotic moan that makes Timothée twist open the handle to his bedroom door as quickly as is humanly possible.

He as good as throws you onto the bed, but undeniably, it turns you on a lot to see his dominant side this early on into the evening. He doesn't seem like the type to pin you down and boss you around, but as he shuts his bedroom door and delicately takes off his probably very expensive shoes, you can see a glint in his eye, almost as if he’s planning on doing unspeakably pleasurable things to you. Just the thought makes you wetter than before.

As he locks the door and shuts his shoes away, you take a quick look around the room. His bed is nice, comfortable and exquisitely large, like other things you hope. He has a nice colourful throw, vintage looking pillows to match his nightstand, holding only a pillbox, a glass of water, hand sanitiser, and a box of tissues. The simplicity makes you want to laugh, but you restrain yourself. He has a big dresser to match his bedside table with the drawers a little skewwhiff and clothes poking out. His wardrobe is fitted to the wall and by the looks of it, surprisingly neat too. That much cannot be said for his sofa though. A plush, light grey sofa sits on one side of his room just away from the window, and it's covered with clothes. At least he made the bed though, that's more than you can say for most 20-odd year old mans rooms that you’ve been into.

He sheds his blazer and crawls up to where he left you on the bed, needy and craving more. He looks down at you with desperation in his eyes, and you can’t help but to attack his lips, threading one hand in his beautiful dark curls while the other nimbly pulls open his tie and undoes his shirt. You shrug it off his shoulders and run your nails up and down his spine. You feel him shiver beneath his touch while your hands travel all over his body. His shoulders, his biceps, his toned stomach; he’s skinny, but has enough substance to him to be strong and sexy as hell.

“You’ll kill me if you stop.” He whispers, followed by a string of breathy curses. His eyes roll into the back of his head, giving you ample opportunity to grasp his shoulders and slip the pair of you over, pinning him beneath you. His eyes flit all over your face before kissing you again.

“You are so freaking beautiful.” He mumbles between kisses. He slips his hands up to find the zip of your jumpsuit which he slides down crazily fast, only breaking the kiss to shrug it off your shoulders. He just lies in awe, noticing that you don’t have a bra on beneath it. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he examines every undulation of your body, following the swell of your breasts right down to your hips. Your nerves return under his scrutiny, making you want to hide your face, but instead he holds your wrists behind you.

“You never have to cover up,” he says, nothing more or less than genuine love in his eyes, “not for me.”

Despite only meeting him hours ago, you know that you can trust him, so you ungracefully clamber off his lap and lie on your back to shimmy off your burden of a jumpsuit. He practically leaps at the opportunity to worship your body, before him in only your panties. He starts at your ankle, placing feather light kisses all the way from your ankle, up your leg, not minding the slight harshness of your legs, and only stops at your knee joint to switch his lips to his tongue, licking a straight line all the way up your inner thigh, stopping centimetres from where you need him the most. Not through any of this ritual does he break eye contact though. He skips over your panties and only pulls them down a little to trail kisses from your pelvic bone, up past your navel, through the valley of your breasts, and finally back to your lips. He makes you feel things that you could only dream of before meeting him.

“Timothée…” you breathe, hearing his breath hitch in his throat at the way your tongue curls around his name.

You reach between the two of you to his trousers. You undo the belt buckle with ease and push his trousers off his hips and down his thin legs, allowing him to kick them off at the bottom. He seems embarrassed, wearing Y-fronts that make more visible just how much he wants you.

“How about we strip together?” You offer, and Timothée reluctantly nods. He pushes himself off of you and stands up, giving you a hand to stand up as well. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off you since the moment you left the concert hall. “3, 2, 1…”

You both remove your underwear, pushing them down your legs and stepping out of them, only to step closer together so that your chests are flush against one another. He moves his hand up to cup your face, brushing your hair away from your face while tilting your chin up, capturing your lips in a lustful yet also sensual kiss.

He nudges you and your legs hit the bed, making you topple over and break the kiss from a giggle, but he doesn’t seem to mind and only laughs with you, moving your body further onto the mattress. He doesn't go to you again, he just lies beside you and dances his fingers absently down your pubic bone, ghosting circles around your clit.

“Jesus Christ.” You exclaim at the sudden feeling. Timothée kisses your jawline, but adds in between kisses, “Less of that, darling, I’m Jewish.”

You can’t help but laugh at him. You know he’s joking, just trying to mess with you, but as a punishment for laughing, he thrusts two fingers inside you with no warning, making you cry out in a mixture of both pain and overwhelming pleasure.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, never going deeper than the second knuckle even when you cry out for more. Only when your moans turn to gasps for breath and you’re writhing beneath him does he delve in further and add his thumb to your clit, giving you a more intense orgasm than you’ve ever had before.

You immediately feel blood rushing back to your cheeks, colouring them from embarrassment, but Timothée doesn’t mind. He removes his hand from your core, and makes sure your eyes are fixated on his every movement as he licks his hand clean of all your cum. You’re so turned on that you even reach for his own hand, interlacing all your fingers except for his index one, of which he takes the hint and slips it into your open mouth, allowing your tongue to curl around it, making him groan.

He slips further down the bed and locks his eyes onto yours, you can see different shades of green and hazel in them and a whole world locked behind those beautiful eyes. Slowly, he delves into your heat, licking up everything that his hands missed. His mouth works wonders, sending your mind into a state of mild euphoria. The tip of his nose nudges your clit and you can feel yourself involuntarily gasp, so when Timothée finishes savouring every taste of you that he can get, he harshly bites your sensitive clit for just a moment, stimulating parts of your mind and body that you didn’t know could feel pleasure, let alone pleasure that intense.

He comes back up and kisses your lips, planting his hands in your hair as you kiss him back and get lost in the moment, your tongues dance together in an exploration, an experimentation of passion.

You pull away after a minute or so, gasping for air. Timothée examines your face for a moment, and you find yourself once again losing your thoughts and sanity in his eyes, until you feel the tip of his throbbing cock brush against your bare thigh. You feel bad for how much he’s been neglecting his own levels of desire in order to pleasure you, so you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock. He takes a sharp intake of breath and flutters his eyes closed, his long dark eyelashes twitching alongside his eyelids whenever you grasp harder or pump him.

He’s surprisingly big, causing you to take longer while rubbing your hand up and down his member. Half way down one thrust, you squeeze his cock a little, hearing him whimper a little. The mere sound of him drowns your core in want. You edge your way down the bed and swallow as much of his dick as you can take until his tip hits the back of your throat. He lets out the most sensual guttural groan that you’ve ever heard, his eyes still closed while placing his hand on the back of your head to keep you steady. You bring your head back up to look at him while your tongue swirls his tip, his mouth is parted a little with breathy moans of your name escaping every once in a while, his eyelids switching from being lazily half open to squeezed so tightly shut that they wrinkle a little.

You go back down slowly, inch by inch, hollowing your cheeks. You work your hand in the part of him that won’t fit in your mouth and continue to bob your head up and down. You lick a strip up a vein on the underside of his dick, making him near enough scream your name. With one final bob of your head where you deep throat him, you pull away with plump lips, climbing up his body to straddle his waist. He looks up at you with wide and loving eyes, pulling you down for a sensual kiss.

“Are you clean?” He asks breathlessly, kissing down the hickeys that he’s already littered your skin with.

“Yeah, i got tested after my last break up a few months ago, and I haven’t been with anyone since. Is that because I just…” He nods and you laugh a little, the vibrations from his chuckle rumble throughout your body.

“I did the same, but I’ll still…” You get what he’s saying and climb off him. He flings open the top drawer of his bedside table and after a minute or so of rooting through it he pulls out a condom packet and places it next to his glass of water. You give him a questioning look with your brows knitted together, but Timothée just smiles at you. He slips one slim arm beneath your back and the other under your knee joint before scooping you up and holding you close to his chest.

“Well hey there Timothée.” You say with a chuckle, secretly astonished at how strong he is, because with one arm still holding you, he throws away the decorative pillows and pulls the duvet back, throwing you onto the mattress and leaping on top of you. You smile into his kiss, savouring every second of the feel of his lips pressed hotly against your own, the taste of smoke driving you crazy.

He pulls away and sits up, tearing open the condom packet and grasping his hand sanitiser. He flicks the lid open and squeezes it liberally onto his hands before applying it and rubbing it into yours. “Are you sure?” He asks you, and your urgent kiss to his jawline is followed by a string of fervent reassurances that you are desperate to have him inside you, though you respect that he wants consent and that he wants to be clean. He slips the condom on, his eyes trained on your lips and the way they part from wanting every few seconds. He’s enjoying torturing you and making you wait, the same way that you edged him but denied him orgasm.

He slips the condom on and slowly enters in one smooth stroke. You gasp at the contact, especially how deep he goes with the first thrust, so deep that his pubic bone hits your own. He reaches for the duvet and he pulls it up over his shoulders, covering the pair of you since he can see that you’re shivering a little in the open. He looks for reassurance, but then begins to thrust inside you, holding his weight above you. You can see his biceps tensing while trying to hold his weight up and keep a steady rhythm.

“How about we spice this up?” He suggests, a sly smirk playing on his lips. He cocks an eyebrow, and the sun hits his face at an angelic angle, only making him more beautiful. You nod eagerly to him, only making his smirk grow wider.

“Yes Mr Timothée,” you say, triggering a dominant smirk to relight behind those stunning eyes.

“That's Mr Chalamet to you tonight, Miss.” Words cannot even explain how wet he makes you by saying that, already making your mind want to submit to his every want. You let out a whimper and remove your hands from his hips to lay above your head on the pillows. He joins his fingers around your wrist and proceeds to lay his slender hand flat against your wrists, preventing you from moving.

“Is this okay?” He asks, his movements coming to a halt. You nod and kiss him again. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

He must really enjoy what he’s doing to you. “Yes Mr Chalamet.” You reply, making your eyes as doe like and innocent as possible.

Timothée’s thrusts restart, faster this time. You moan louder, ecstasy filling every inch of your spent body before you’ve even properly begun. His moans are lower, more like groans, all of your name. It sounds heavenly coming from his lips, the way his mouth moves when he says your name just makes it better. His hips hit yours with vigour, adjusting to get a better position where he hits the best spot inside of you.

“There Timothée!” You scream desperately, your back arching on the mattress while your hands fight to break free. Submitting isn’t as easy as you hoped.

“I’m close.” He warns you and frees your wrists, but he doesn’t let your hand go too far. He interlocks his fingers with yours, using one elbow to prop himself up. His thrusts turn sloppy, more fervent, and just as he’s finishing, he digs his thumb into your clit.

Your entire body turns limp, screaming his name in a state of complete euphoria like you’ve never felt before. It travels from your brain to the tips of your fingers, setting a fire in your belly and making your toes curl. Your back arches so far off the bed that your chest becomes pressed against Timothée’s, your breasts moving in time with his breathing. You feel him come to his own climax, silencing his screams by kissing you with more passion than he has before.

You ride out your highs, but the level of pleasure illuminating every nerve ending in your body means that you don’t notice Timothée pulling out and disposing of the condom, you only notice when he flops down beside you on the bed and pulls you closer to his slightly sweaty body. You rest your head on his chest that seems to be glowing in the moonlight from the sheen of sweat. He absently plaits your hair, staring off into the distance. The faint thudding of his heart within his ribs comforts you, it's a little faster than would be normal, making you smile a little.

“How was that?” His hand grips around your shoulder even tighter, pulling you closer to his body. He seems content in simply holding you, maybe he just enjoys cuddling. “Wait, don’t answer that.” He corrects himself, his pupils dilating and his excellent, angelic body going rigid. You chuckle to yourself, drawing circles on his chest with the pad of your forefinger,

“Excellent, Mr Chalamet.” You tease him.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He looks fearful, fretting, it's evident in the sudden sulk of his face, pulling his cheeks and forehead down. You shake your head again, slowly but surely moving your leg to lie over his. Ye inclines his neck to place a gentle kiss to our hairline, and you can feel him smile into it.

“Timothée?”

“Yes beautiful?” Just his simple words make you giggle and blush, such a sweet sentiment from a gorgeous and well meaning man.

“I’m hungry.” You say, feeling slightly embarrassed. He laughs, you feel his body move from it, and he proceeds to pepper your face with the softest and sweetest kisses possible.

“I’ll make us some food, grab any shirt you want and meet me in the kitchen.”

You watch him pull on a pair of grey sweat pants and walk out. His pale hips sway just a little as he walks, and he looks so lanky from where you’re laying on his bed, the covers pulled up around your chest. He kissed your forehead before heading to the kitchen, what kind of a man does that on the first night? He’s a famous actor and the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, let alone a couple of years above yourself. He really knows how to please a girl, your skin rises in tiny goosebumps of pleasure while a shiver shoots down your spine and leaps across your synapses just at the mere thought of what he did to you, by far the best climax you’ve ever had.

You slowly slide out from under his warm, plush covers that smell just like him, only leaving with severe reluctance that melts away as soon as you shrug on the pale blue button down that he wore for the concert. Only a few hours ago you’d met at a concert for old people, already having a common interest that few your age have, yet he’s so eager about classical piano which is so special to you. You fiddle with the buttons, leaving the top few open in hopes of another round - he is making you an almost-midnight feast after all.

You walk out of his room and pad barefoot across his living room floor, only to have a little grey cat come and rub at your feet. You lean down to tickle behind its ears, hearing it meow, and you continue your way too where Timothée has left the kitchen door open for you. He’s standing over the stove with some ingredients laid out on the spotlessly clean countertops. You smile in spite of yourself, running a hand through your messy hair before wrapping your arms around his torso from behind. You place a couple of kisses to his shoulder blades until he turns around and picks you up in one swift movement, sitting you on the counter so that you meet his height.

“It looks better on you.” He whispers, pulling you closer by your bare thighs to plant a kiss on your lips. He’s making you feel things you’ve never experienced before, you can’t wipe the smile off your face for the first time in a while, and he's making you food in the middle of the night after cuddling you.

Dreamboat.

After watching him cook for a while, you slip out of his kitchen and take a seat at his piano. You run your fingers over the smooth wood, it’s well loved but well kept. Then you take a seat on the stool. You can feel where Timothée sits to play, your smile turning a little sad. There’s so much to him that people won’t see because he’s getting famous, but he’s still a person and that’s something that you’re able to experience first-hand.

Eyes closed, you feel for F and Ab with both of your hands. You press the keys down gently, creating the soft blend of notes that is Clair De Lune. You fall lost in the music in a new way, a new feeling washing you with all of tonight's new sensations and sitting at a piano that is neither your own nor at school, it feels somewhat ethereal.

Your fingers glide all across the keys, black to white, flats to sharps, switching between octaves like its second nature. Your mind dances along with the rhythm, your whole mind, soul and being becoming lost in the symphony that you’re creating, one that you haven’t been able to create for a while, and it’s only thanks to Timothée.

You become so absorbed in playing that you don’t notice him leaving the kitchen to listen. He just stands in the doorway, leaning against it with his head lolled a little to the side, completely mesmerised by your movements, your music, and just everything you are. Only when you play the final notes are you alerted of his presence from the creaking of the floorboards beneath his feet. He walks over to you with purpose, a slight grimace on his perfect lips, but he just hugs you. Timothée just holds you close to his chest, allowing you to entwine your arms around his neck and nuzzle your face in his bare chest.

“Stay the night?” He asks, such a simple request but he truly does seem anxious. You want to be genuine, kind, but it’ll be best to relieve the tension.

“You’re making me a late night post-sex feast and giving me your shirt, of course I’m staying the night.” After a moment of silence, he exhales a laugh and node, brushing a curl or two into his face. “Anyway, your cat likes me too, so it’d be a shame to disappoint the little cutie.”

After only a few minutes, you find yourself back in bed with Timothée. He’s carrying a tray full of food that looks and smells gorgeous, followed by his cat who decides to dance between his legs. He serves you a strangely shaped piece of an odd looking pizza, though it still looks excellent, and it has some perfectly cooked and seasoned vegetables next to it on a white plate.

“What is this?” You ask him as kindly as possible.

“Flammekueche with some vegetables. It’s a French pizza with crème fraiche and bacon. My dad makes it all the time and always gives me some that I just freeze and reheat. I can only make microwave meals and vegetables, so this isn’t bad for me.” The way he explains it makes him so endearing, and even makes the food seem more than enticing. “You’re not allergic to anything are you? Or vegetarian?” You shake your head with a smile, kissing him and thanking him for the meal even though he won’t let you touch it before you sanitise your hands.

You talk the whole while that you eat, learning little things about his favourite books and his family. His favourite book just happens to be Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald, a book you both know and love, and Timothee has a Jewish mother, a French father, an older sister, and he grew up in the city. You however are from out of the city with an exceptionally normal family, and your favourite book is Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. He seems to be growing fond of you, wiping the pizza sauce from your lip, followed by a kiss each time.

He places your plates on the floor as soon as you finish, snatching at the speed of light for some hand sanitiser, lube and another condom. You more than happily oblige with all of his steps and strip off his shirt, kissing the living daylights out of him before he’s even slotted the condom on. He kisses you back with equal fervour nonetheless, exploring your whole mouth with the tip of his tongue. He cautiously adds some lube to the sides of the condom and slips into you while you’re still atop him. You moan at the penetration, arching your body forwards and hereby giving Timothée a full view of your breasts and the way they bounce with his every thrust inside you.

You moan pornographically at his slow and passionate movements upwards and deep inside you, finding your special spot within moments. He settles his hands upon your hips, squeezing them and guiding your every movement. You ride him just the way he wants you to, you can see it in his eyes. He looks at you like a teenage boy would at a naked supermodel, of which you are only naked and most definitely not a supermodel, despite him treating you like one, and Timothée is thankfully older than a teenage boy yearning for sex.

“You look so fucking brilliant.” He tells you, admiring the way that your face contorts with pleasure while taking every inch of him.

You rhythmically grind your hips against him, swirling them occasionally just to hear him cry out. Nothing is a hinderance from you going faster, but this sex isn’t needing to be urgent to be satisfying. He squeezes your hips harder and you decides to move up a little further, bouncing back down on him as he becomes buried to the hilt in your desperate core. You do it again, engulfing him anew and moaning his name continually from the mix of friction and pleasure that’s sending you into another euphoria, but not enough to release again just yet.

Timothée still hasn’t taken his eyes off you, namely your breasts where he’s currently focussed, eyes trained on your hardened nipples - partly from not wearing a shirt and partly from Timothée’s ministrations. He leans up and captures your left nipple in his mouth, sucking and kissing and swirling his tongue around you in the most divine way possible. He moves his hands away from your hips too, allowing you to grind your hips on his in any way that you like. His one hand moves to your other breast, tweaking and pulling at your right peak and sending sensations through your body that you’d never realised could be real before; while his other slips to the rounds of your ass, squeezing delectably.

“Mr Chalamet, p-please,” you find yourself begging, leaning down while still riding him, his torture on your breasts never ceasing, not even when he thrusts his hips up one final time, allowing your core to devour him whole and sending you into your third otherworldly climax of the night.

“Timothée!” You scream, your climax pouring out of you. You feel him come too, and you hear him cry out your name like a blessing.

He doesn’t pressure you, he just waits until you’re able to clamber off him with as minimal pain and exhaustion as possible, though you do whine at the loss of contact as you lie beside him, his arms securely around you and holding you as close to him as possible. It doesn’t matter that you’re both sweaty or spent, it just feels special.

“Look at that, done before 1am.” He chides, cuddling into you. You laugh a little at him, especially his humour, but it is rather remarkable.

“Two rounds, a meal, and a concert. Can’t speak for you, but I’m knackered.” He smiles at you sleepily, passing you the shirt that you wore earlier. You shrug it on and do it up while Timothée puts his joggers back on and draws the curtains, leaving the two of you in dark for the most part. You lie further down, still close to his thin chest, you hear his breathing rattle a little, but it's soothing.

“Night beautiful.” Is the last thing you hear before falling asleep in his arms.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The only issue about sleeping with Timothée is that you forget it's a Saturday morning, and on Saturdays, you have to work. Your phone alarm starts to go off at 7.15 precisely, which when you’re home, gives you enough chance to get ready for teaching in a calm manner so that you aren’t already angry before teaching little children how to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Today however, that is not the case.

Timothée sleeps through it somehow, but your eyes are shocked wide awake, causing you to leap from the comfort and warmth of his bed and cuddles just to crawl on the floor in search of your phone and where it fell last night. You find it next to his door somehow, and switch the alarm off immediately, propping yourself up against the door to release a long held breath and to watch the sun rise through his windows. He looks so beautiful asleep, his lips parted slightly, soft snores escaping every so often, dark eyebrows furrowed and his mop of curls haphazardly lying around him like a halo. The morning glow makes his cheekbones appear even more defined.

You want to gather your belongings without waking him, get dressed and catch a cab back to your flat, but just as you go to open his door, he stirs.

“Where do you think you’re going beautiful? Come back to bed, I’m keeping you here with me forever.” You know he’s joking, and his words melt your heart and inhibitions a little, but you can’t justify staying

“I have to work, my first student is at 9.30.” You say, walking across to stand beside his bed and brush some hair off his forehead, kissing him and your lips lingering on his sweaty skin a little longer than they probably should have.

“And? I’ll drive you home in time, if you live near Juilliard then I know a shortcut. Just come back.” He's virtually pleading, puppy eyes and quivering lip just to add to the effect, and you simply can’t say no when he looks so perfect. You place your things on the floor by the bed and slip beside him, allowing your eyes to flutter shut just a moment longer.

His finger traces your naked body beneath the shirt, focussing on the bruises he left on your hips and the marks on your neck. Just his touch is enough to take control of your body, to give you goosebumps, to electrify every feeling of love and lust held within.

“Can I use your shower please?” You ask him, and he nods, placing his chin atop your head.

“I’ll take you to my bathroom and then I’ll make you breakfast. Grab whatever clothing you want from my room, but you can’t leave this bed until you agree to dinner with me tonight.”

Your heart rate increases tenfold at his gesture, and you want to take a leap of faith and say yes straight away, but that would be playing your cards too quickly. “We’ll see.” You respond sultrily, making your way to leave, but his strong grip pulls you flush against him with no space to move. You can hear him laughing in your ear.

“Say yes to dinner and then you can leave.” He slips his hands further down your front without losing his grip and decides to toy with your clit as though it’ll get you to talk.

“Y-yes! God, Timothée, of course I’ll go to dinner with you, just don’t stop!” You find it impossible to understand the shockwaves of pleasure pulsating and electrifying your every sense from an action as simple as the pads of his fore and middle fingers twisting and pressing your sensitive clit. It’s so incredible that after the previous night, it feels like overstimulation, and you can’t get enough.

“I’ll never stop.” He murmurs gruffly into your ear, you can hear the hoarseness that smoking causes but god it sounds and tastes so good.

He pulls your body closer and rolls you over. “Hey baby.” You say as calmly as you can, but within seconds you find yourself sitting on his face, half of his stunning bone structure lost beneath you. He delves his tongue into your already dripping heat, licking as far as he can get and only pulling away to kiss and suckle at your clit.

“Let me come Mr Chalamet!” You cry out, and with one final swipe of his tongue around your core and a squeeze of your ass, you let go. Timothée licks you clean while you still chant his name, and he proceeds to pick you up in order to carry you to the bathroom. You settle your heels at the base of his spine, digging in a little, and his arms tense beneath your ass from the manner he carries you. You like being above him, able to trace every line and bit of stubble on his face with your focussed eyes that he stares so deeply into at any given chance.

“Don’t be too long or I’ll be tempted to join you.”

You slowly cross the threshold of the bathroom, winking at him as you close the door. He inaudibly groans, but you can tell from his facial expression and the tension in his joggers that make him look utterly sexy. You slowly unbutton his shirt, reluctant to take it off, but when you step under the warm jet of his shower, that reluctance washes away along with any inhibitions you may have had about Timothée. He’s an angel: clean, respectful, enjoys classical music, has a cat, isn’t a cocky dickhead, and he’s literally the most gorgeous human being that you’ve ever laid eyes on.

You run your fingers through your hair, standing directly beneath his showerhead. The steam clouds your vision, but you can hear Timothée singing while he cooks, Mystery of Love. What a dork, you think, chuckling to yourself while you rinse Tim’s shower gel from your body, and you just know that after this you’ll smell like him, but he smells delectable. As the water hits the most sensitive parts of your body, you remember the previous night. Just the thought of what he did to you makes you crave his touch again.

Through the bathroom window, you can make out the New York traffic that builds every morning, accompanied by the screeching of tires and sirens and car horns. Despite it being a ruckus, it's soothing as you step out the shower and wrap yourself in one of Timothée’s fluffy towels.

“How do you look so sexy when you’re getting out of the shower? God, I can't stress it enough, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve seen in my life, even without any makeup and with your hair un-styled, just wrapped in my Goddamn towel. You’re gonna be mine, mark my words.” You feel tears come to your eyes at his kind words, watching him purposefully walk from the kitchen and all the way across his apartment just to place his hands on your waist and tell you how beautiful you are. Those words are better than a concerto to you.

Once you’ve finished getting dry in his bedroom, you ferret through his drawers until you pull out a white top with various tie dye patterns across it. It’s cute, very Timothée. You pull it on and it reaches your mid thighs, making it clock in your head just how much of a lanky lad he is. You bundle together your stuff and head out of his room, closing the door behind you and greeting him with a kiss. He sits you at the breakfast bar and serves you a proper cooked breakfast: bacon, scrambled eggs, and pancakes.

“There's ketchup and syrup in the cupboard if you’d like.” He offers, sidling up on the seat beside you, nudging the tip of your nose with his thumb. The smile hasn’t left your face since you met him.

“This is good, you’re an excellent cook.” You tell him, resting your hand on his. His cheeks glow an even brighter red in the cascading morning sunlight, dappled by his blinds, but he looks magnificent despite his embarrassment.

You take out your phone, just to take a picture of the breakfast while it’s still untouched, and of your hand held by Timothée’s, already wearing rings. You notice that he’s already wearing a silver chain too, and a couple of bracelets on the wrist away from your own, which you find unusually attractive.

“I wish you could stay all day.” he whispers, placing his forehead on yours.

“Me too.” you say softly, smiling sadly and caressing his cheek.

You finish your breakfast and make your way to the living room in a strange kind of waltz orchestrated by Timothée. He insists on holding your waist and turning around a little, moving your feet in sync until you yank him down onto the sofa, catching his lips mid sigh which leads to a much more passionate make out session than you anticipated. Once that’s over, he plaits your hair beautifully, explaining how it used to calm his sister down before an audition. By the time he’s finished a very good pair of plaits, you check the time and it’s already 9, time for you to leave with NYC traffic, but Tim won’t let you go.

“Not without a photo.” He insists, but you question his reasons. Who would want a photo of you with wet hair in plaits, an oversized tee-shirt and a bare face? But his answer is too sweet to refuse. “I like taking pictures of beautiful things, and of which, you are the most beautiful.” Your cheeks flush a raging scarlet, and Timothée takes your few moments of silence as the perfect opportunity to take a picture of you, sunlight hitting your face in all the right places, and he takes another for good measure, his hand on your cheek and his lips on yours, a kiss that shuts you up for good.

He takes you down the stairs right to the garage where he keeps his car, and surprisingly, it’s an understated car, not crazily extortionate nor flashy, something which you respect highly. He sits you in the passenger side, making sure to kiss you before closing the door, and he gets in the driver's side. After starting the engine and leaving the parking lot, he lays his palm flat against your thigh and keeps it there the whole drive while you change gears for him. You tell him all about your childhood, your high school, your time in uni while he tells you his life at a performing arts high school and then his life as an actor, he truly fascinates you.

Once he pulls up outside your building, he tries to convince you to let him come in, or at least walk you to your door, but on the grounds of not scaring the life out of your neighbours and students, you say no with a promise to see him later.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard tonight that you won’t be able to walk.” He says, pulling you in for a final passionate kiss before you step out of the car. He made you wet just before you have to work, you’ll get him back later, but the revenge melts as soon as he leans out the window to blow you a kiss and tell you how stunning you are.

You’re so lost in your trance of Timothée that you don’t notice your first student tapping you on the shoulder and excitedly saying “Was that the Timothée Chalamet?”

You chuckle to yourself, watching him drive off into traffic, all for you. “Yes it was love, yes it was.”

[echos-newlegs]

would you be able to do 12 from the prompt list with Hunter, preferably smut?

You Help Me Calm

Heck yeah 😳 you didn’t give pronouns and I feel bad assuming even though half the users are she/her, so it’s gunna be a teeny vague— so NB reader

Hunter x Reader: “Your lips are so soft, I could kiss them all day.”

Warnings: smut, little vague, hunter receiving, touch starved reader and hunter

You dug through some scrap metal, a pair of headphones covering your ears as you listened to music. It helped you concentrate, but you couldn’t listen to it on the radio, or even too loud for that matter. Or else Hunter would complain. That or you would just feel bad, because who likes overstimulating your sergeant?

You were humming softly as you worked on patching up some of the damaged panels on the ship. You guys didn’t realize have a choice of a new ship, so they were all thankful for your ability to rewatch things.

Hunter was on a run for supplies that you requested. He wasn’t really sure was he expected to see, but he didn’t expect you to be swaying your hips and murmuring the lyrics to the song playing into your ears. He could hear it, it was nice. It wasn’t something he would typically listen to, but he did enjoy it. Quite frankly.

He watched you for a moment. He loved how relaxed and yet so concentrated you were. Watching as you flicked the welding helmet down over your face and began welding the scrap metal to the side of the ship. Chewing on his bottom lip. He could watch you for hours honestly. You just had this calming effect over him. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that you were just a calm, relaxing individual. Or the fact that he had genuine feelings for you. Which the both of you knew about since he admitted to it while drugged up on meds after being shot. You hadn’t confronted him over it since the incident though. You weren’t sure how.

You turned to head over to the box and grab a few more pieces of scrap metal. Removing the helmet so you could see. Setting it to the side. Smiling up to hunter when you caught a glance of him. Though after you realized it. You froze.

You ripped the headphones from your ears, letting them drape around your ears. Skin turning red as you looked up to the Sergeant. “How long have you been standing there?” He chuckled. Approaching you further. Handing over the box of supplies. “Long enough,” He hummed and you smiled sheepishly. “Uh-huh, alright,” You spoke, rocking onto your heels. Then backing up and turning to set the box of supplies down. “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been working for nearly three hours.” He told you, and you sighed. “Alright, fine.” “that was easy,” He chuckled, and you shoved him a bit with a grin. “You can convince me to do about anything and you know it.” You giggled and he shrugged.

the two of you boarded the Marauder, everyone else was out and about. Running around town or at the local cantina looking for a date for the night. You were too focused on work, and Hunter? Well you weren't sure.

You sighed as you plopped yourself in a chair. Hunter taking seat near you. "So why aren't you at the cantina or something? Scared Cross is gunna get laid before you?" You teased and he rolled his eyes a bit with a chuckle. "Hmm, no, I just don't wanna. Plus I figured I'd get in some alone time with you."

You could tell he regretted his words by the way his nose scrunched. "Oh?" You spoke, intrigued. "What do you mean by that." A small smirk finding its way to your lips.

His eyes darted around, looking for an escape. But there wasn't one. "Well.." he shifted a bit, then looked back to you. "I just figured we could.. talk?" He had been in a sensitive mood lately, so this was new. He must be feeling better. His stimulations died down a bit. Which really did give you ideas.

"Alright, what do you wanna talk about, Hunter." You questioned raising a brow. Watching as his eyes scanned over your face as you leaned forward a tad. "Hm.." he hummed, then blinked and shook his head. "Well, I wanted to ask you something, more so."

You grinned, and tilted your head. "Yeah? Is it about that night in the med bay?" You joked, halfly.

His tanned skin turned a bit red, and he nodded a little. "Yes, actually." You raised your brows slightly. Shocked he wanted to talk about it. "Okay, alright.." you hummed. Licking your lips. "What about it?"

"Do you remember what I said?" He asked, and you nodded. Glancing down with a small smile. " 'Oh, y/n.. have I ever told you how beautiful you are? Or stars.. I just wanna kiss you so bad, feel your skin, hold you.' " you imitated his voice with a goofy look.

You broke into a small giggle when he glared and folded his arms. "I did NOT say that," "oh, but you did." He huffed, and then sighed. "Okay, maybe I did, BUT, I didn't sound like that." You shrugged your shoulders with a titter.

He sighed once more and rubbed his chin. "I just wanted to know if you felt the same way?" He asked and you licked your lips. Then pulled your bottom lip in to rest between your teeth. Watching as his gaze watched the movement. "For a guy with overestimated senses you sure ask some dumb questions."

He looked at you with shocked eyes, and he smiled. Hope written on his face. You thought it was adorable, really.

"Yes, I feel the same." You spoke with a smile. Watching and his eyes softened. His whole body softened. "Especially the kiss part," you spoke with a sly grin, and he smirked. Cocking a brow. "Really?"

You sighed, standing, and soon he did too. "Yes, Hunter, don't make me repeat myself." He stepped closer, and you stepped closer as well. Holding your hands over his shoulders. Giving him a questioning look, and he nodded.

You pressed your skin against his blacks. Watching as he tensed and then relaxed. His hands reluctantly coming to your waist. "Can I kiss you then?" You hummed, leaning in closer. "Nah, just decided I'd toy with you." You spoke and saw his expression begin to fall. "I'm kidding, yes, please."

He didn't leave time for you to change your mind. Moving in to press his lips to your. You wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands explored your body.

The kiss was soft, and heated all at once. Hands running to his hair which made him grunt in response. You always loved his hair.

He pulled back, the two of you huffing and panting. "Can we take it?" He motioned towards the bunks with his head, and you nodded. "Thought you'd never ask." You teased, yelping when he grabbed you by your ass. Lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

Letting out a small giggle as he began kissing your neck, and then lips coming back to meet your own. "You're so perfect," he praised as he walked the two of you to the bed. "So kriffing perfect." He spoke. Voice lowering with each passing second it seemed.

He laid you down and you let your eyes fall shut as he climbed on top of you and began kissing on your neck. You didn’t move the others shirt. Worried that the skin on skin contact initiated by you would cause the other to overstimulate. You loved, but also hated how the other could do so, so easily.

He noticed your hesitance. Still working on kissing your neck. Though this time he brought your hand and slid it under his shirt. You took the invite with pride. Letting your hand slide up. Listening to the small whine he let out with amusement. Locking your legs around his waist. Then tugging his shirt up.

He shredded his shirt off, you doing the same. Allowing him more access to your body. Lips traveling down to your collar bone. Beginning to suck and scrape his teeth. “Hunter..” You mewled. His hands moving over your stomach. You could tell the way you said his name had him riled up even more than before. “Hunter, I want..” You panted, catching his attention.

“What do you want, Cyar’ika?” He purred against your ear as he leant up. “I wanna make you feel good,” You whined, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge. The others would be out for a while, so the two of you would have the time for it. Not only the events itself, but the fact that it would take hunter a while to recharge. So to speak.

He looked you over, fingers running up to brush against your nipples. Making your back arch off of the bed. He smirked as he leant in and pressed another kiss to your jaw. “Hmm, I was thinking of making you feel good tonight.” “Me first,” you spoke and he rolled his hips into yours. Making you both gasp and moan.

Your lips crashing into his and meeting him in another heated kiss. His fingers tracing shapes in your body, and if you weren’t so drunk off of lust right now. You might actually pay attention to what he was drawing, but you couldn’t stay concentrated enough for it. Especially with another roll of his hips.

He pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Your lips are so soft, I could kiss them all day..” He added with a small pant, making you smile with a bit more of a blush. On your already red face. “You’re such a fucking sap, now why don’t you roll over?” You asked with a brow cocked. Hunter doing as told.

He laid on his back, you sitting on his stomach now. Groaning a bit at just the sight of the other. You had been waiting for this for almost as long as he had.

Sliding down him, making a point to rub against him. Causing him to gasp again, fists balling.

You tugged his pants. Pulling them down when he lifted his hips up from the bed. Your hands moving to work, once this was done. You palmed him through his briefs. Hunter throwing his head back with a rather loud groan. Eyes snapping shut, then fluttering open again to watch you.

You trailed kisses and left your own trail of marks down his chest with a small hum. Licking, and then mouthing over one of his nipples. Your hand snaking into his pants, then pulling his member out.

He bucked into your hand, but you moved your hand with his motion. Refusing him the friction he wanted. Making him whine. Maker, you were glad the others were out doing their own thing.

You smiled at his small babbles and praises when your mouth got closer to where he wanted the attention most. Moving to the inside of his thighs. Teeth scraping at his sensitive skin. Causing his eyes to fall shut again. Hands carding in your hair.

You finally made to where he wanted you to. When he was already nearly toppling over the edge from how overpowered his senses were getting. From the smell of you both, to the sounds, to the feelings. Let alone the look of you as you trailed his body like you owned him. He was shocked he was still pieced together.

He let out a rather loud moan when you licked a strip up his dick. Making you groan a bit when his fingers tugged at your hair. Licking his tip, then sliding it into your mouth. He was panting and whining. making you wanna take more of your time. You had never seen him this desperate before. He was always so stern, so strict. Easy to tell you what to do, and honestly? You kind of enjoyed this side of him more than you ever thought that you would.

He let out a groan when you slid as much of him as you could into your mouth. One hand rubbing what you couldn’t get while you bobbed your head. The other arm holding his waist down to keep him from bucking his hips into your face.

You moaned around him as he buried the back of his head deeper and further into the pillow. “Kriff, y/n, ah, stars, I’m so..” He lasted longer than you thought. Hollowing your cheeks and taking more of him in. Soon he was cuming into your mouth, and there was nothing either of you could do about it. Not that you really mind.

He let out the loudest noise yet. Eyes snapping shut and face contorted as you milked him dry. Pulling off him with a ‘pop.’ Swallowing all except for a little that dripped down the corned of your mouth. Though you just wiped that off with your thumb.

He looked so exhausted just from a blowjob, and you weren’t sure what to do now. Should you move, touch him, go in the other room, throw a blanket over him? What now?

“Lay next to me,” He murmured. Voice soft and tired. “But won’t that bug you?” “Just lay next to me, please, you help me calm.” He spoke through half lidded eyes. So you did. Climbing over to lie next to the other. Facing him and he pulled you over to his chest. Arms, well, whole body trembling like he was coming down from a sugar high. “Just, give me sec and then I’ll make you wish we had the whole night to ourselves.” He mumbled, and that made you smile and giggle. Kissing his cheek with a small hum. “I’m sure you will.”

[griffintail]

Blow Us All Away

Pairings: Parental! Wilbur x F! Reader

Warnings: Blood Mention, Duel, Death

A/N: This is literally all over the SMP timeline the basic thing is Revivebur or Ghostbur didn't happen and L'Manberg is still a standing country. This is an idea I randomly had for my Lost Ones character Little Star and decided to just write it.

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

Meet the latest graduate of King's College

I prob'ly shouldn't brag, but, dag, I amaze and astonish

The scholars say I got the same virtuosity and brains as my pops

The gents say my brain's not where the resemblance stops

I'm only nineteen but my mind is older

Gotta be my own person, like my father, but bolder

I shoulder his legacy with pride, I used to hear him say

That someday I would blow us all away!

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

(Y/N) was always proud to consider herself Wilbur’s daughter. She had his fire and brains. He taught her his talents of music and she was able to learn with ease. She’d walk around with pride with her L’Manberg uniform, wearing and bearing her titles with pride.

The daughter of the nation’s president and a soon-to-be cabinet member. Her father was confident she could do just about anything and would most certainly succeed him with ease once she got older.

Today though, she was a lady on a mission. She had her uniform on as always but she had her hands behind her back, a serious look plastered onto her face. Ahead on her walk down the prime path, she spotted Niki and Eret talking.

“Ladies, I'm lookin for a Ms. Wastaken. Made a speech last week, our peace talk speaker. She disparaged my father's legacy in front of a crowd. I can't have that; I'm making my father proud.” (Y/N) stopped in front of the pair explain herself.

“I saw her just up Broadway a couple of blocks, she was goin' to see a play,” Eret told the girl.

“Well, I'll go visit her box.” (Y/N) tipped her hat before going to the stage in the SMP land.

As (Y/N) got to the stage, there was currently being a play put on people she didn’t know but that didn’t matter to her right now. She was a lady on a mission. In the high seats sat the daughter of Dream and that was her goal.

“Terror!” (Y/N) came forward in front of her seat.

“Shh!” Terror didn’t even look at her.

“Terror!”

“Shh, I'm tryin' to watch the show!”

“Ya shoulda watched your mouth before you talked about my father though!”(Y/N) protested as the other finally looked at her.

Around them, the crowd had become less interested in the play as they watched the far more interesting events in front of them.

“I didn't say anything that wasn't true. Your father's a coward, and so, it seems, are you.”

(Y/N) gave a short laugh as she watched her. “It's like that?”

“Yeah, I don't fool around, I'm not your little school girl friends.”

“Well, see you on the dueling ground! That is unless you wanna step outside and go now!”(Y/N) challenged with spread arms.

“I know where to find you, piss off, I'm watchin' this show now.” Terror once more didn’t look at the other woman on the ground.

(Y/N) clenched her jaw but stormed off. She’d show her! She’d win that duel and Terror would…

She stopped near Tubbo’s old house realizing what she had just done. That’s one thing Wilbur had never taught her; she didn’t know how to fight. They were a peaceful nation that didn’t need to fight. They used their words and she just signed herself up to use weapons.

“Fuck.” She muttered as she looked around.

She tended to overstep herself when it came to standing for her father, but this time she’d stepped too far. She didn’t know what to do, she needed help. There was no way she’d let Wilbur know what she did, but she knew one person that would keep a secret and she took off. Stopping outside the odd building, she knocked on the door and after a few moments, the fox hybrid opened the door, tail flicking seeing his sister.

“(Y/N), hey. What’s up?” Fundy asked, moving to let her.

“Fundy, I challenged Terror to a duel.” She admitted immediately as she walked in.

“You what?!” His fur puffed up as he closed his door hurriedly. “Why would you do that?!”

“It just slipped! She talked shit about dad Fundy! Fundy, if you had only heard the shit, she said about him; I doubt you would have let it slide and I was not about to!” She threw her hands up as she paced.

“Slow down.” Fundy tried to calm her as he took her shoulders.

“I came to ask you for advice, this is my very first duel. They don't exactly cover this subject in L’Manberg.” She sighed.

“Did your friends attempt to negotiate a peace?”

“She refused to apologize, we had to let the peace talks cease.”

“Where is this happening?”

“Across the river, in Las Nevadas.”

“Everything is legal in Las Nevadas.” They both nodded.

“Alright, so this is what you're gonna do. Stand there like proud until Terror is in front of you. When the time comes, fire your weapon in the air. This will put an end to the whole affair.”

“But what if she decides to shoot? Then I'm a goner.”

“No, she'll follow suit if she's truly a woman of honor. To take someone's life, that is something you can't shake (Y/N), our father can't take another heartbreak.” He muttered, looking away for a moment, as he thought of everything that happened recently.

Their father was certainly having a hard time with all of it and they both knew it but (Y/N) didn’t just want to stand there. That felt like proving Terror right.

“Fundy!” She protested.

“Promise me.” He looked back at her as he thought about the war. “You don't want this young woman's blood on your conscience.”

She hesitated before sighing as she nodded. “Okay, I promise.”

“Come back home when you're done.” Fundy patted her shoulder before going to his weapons chest and pulling out his old bow and handed it to her. “Take my bow, be smart, make me proud, sis.”

(Y/N) took the bow, staring at it before nodding. Putting it on her back, she took a deep breath before leaving Fundy’s home and went towards Las Nevadas.

“My name is (Y/N). I am a musician. And I'm a little nervous, but I can't show it. I'm sorry, I'm a Soot with pride. You talk about my father; I cannot let it slide.” She sang to herself the familiar beat she knew.

Before she knew it, she was in Las Nevadas and Terror was standing there with a few souls that had seen from the play to watch how this act ended and a few faces she recognized that must have heard about the duel about to occur. She just hoped her father hadn’t heard how she wasn’t using her words.

“Terror, how was the rest of your show?” (Y/N) asked as she came forward.

“I'd rather skip the pleasantries, let's go.” Terror told her, moving her mask from the side of her face to the front. “Grab your bow.”

(Y/N) nodded as she took off the bow. “Confer with your men. The duel will commence after we count to ten.”

(Y/N) went to her position as everyone started to shift with excitement and nervousness. A few citizens from Las Nevadas had become curious and came to see.

“Look 'em in the eye, aim no higher.” (Y/N) muttered to herself as she gripped onto the bow. “Summon all the courage you require. Then slowly and clearly aim your bow towards the sky.”

The counting started and they began to take their paces.

One, two, three.

(Y/N) pulled the string back and aimed it up.

Four, five, six.

Before most of the crowd could react, Terror turned on her heel with her bowstring pulled back.

Seven.

And the bowstring was released and (Y/N) let out a cry as she fell to the ground. Blood was already starting to quickly pour as Terror scoffed.

“And now that’s done.” Terror said, walking away as a few people went to help the other.

Everything was blurry for (Y/N). Everything seemed so fast but so slow. She didn’t know what was happening, she didn’t know where she was. All she could feel was pain and dizziness consuming her. She didn’t even hear as there was a call on the walkie about what happened as Foolish carried her to a cleaner location to hopefully heal her.

Fundy’s blood went cold when he heard the call on the radio and bolted for Las Nevadas. He demanded to know where his little sister was and once he found out where she was, he booked it for there too.

~~~~~~~~

Stay Alive

Stay Alive

~~~~~~~~

Fundy made it to Foolish had brought her and was ready to barge his way through every room to find her when Foolish stepped out.

“Where's my sister?” Fundy demanded.

“Fundy, come in, I brought her in a half an hour ago. She lost a lot of blood on the way over.” Foolish explained to him.

“Is she alive?” Fundy felt the tears in his eyes.

“Yes, but you have to understand. The arrow entered just above her hip and lodged in her right arm.”

“Can I see her please?”

“I'm doing everything I can but the wound was already infected when she arrived.” Foolish told him as he hesitantly led him to where (Y/N) was.

“(Y/N)!” Fundy rushed to her side, gently putting a hand on her forehead as Foolish let them be.

The pain had started to numb and (Y/N) could vaguely see her brother as she was able to hear him clearly.

“Fundy. I did exactly as you said, Fundy. I held my head up high.”

“I know, I know, shh.”

“High—” (Y/N) tried to continue but stumbled over her words.

“I know, I know, shh. I know you did everything just right.” Fundy assured her as tears spilled from his eyes.

“Even before we got to ten.” She needed to explain what happened, she needed him to know even as he gently shushed her. “I was aiming for the sky. I was aiming for the sky.”

“I know, I know, shh. I know, save your strength and stay alive.” Fundy pleaded with her as his ears went flat and his tail wrapped around his leg.

That’s when Fundy heard furious and upset shouting. Fundy squeezed his eyes shut as he knew one of those voices by heart and sure enough, not a moment later Wilbur came bursting through the door.

Wilbur’s heart had dropped the moment he heard about (Y/N) being injured. His little star…He didn’t know what happened, but he sprinted as fast as he could towards the country of Las Nevadas, demanding answers. His little girl had been in a duel…

The other side had been cheap and shot her before they even got to ten. And his daughter, his little star, his (Y/N), had aimed her bow towards the sky. When she made it out of this, he’d let her know how proud he was of her.

Yet, now he stood in the doorway, seeing his daughter barely together, a small bit of blood still collecting around her…

“No!” Wilbur shouted as he rushed over, Fundy moving back to let their father be by her side.

“Dad,” Fundy muttered.

“Is she breathing? Is she going to survive this?” Wilbur looked towards Foolish, who stood quietly at the door, before Wilbur looked at Fundy. “Who did this, Fundy, did you know?”

“Dad.”Wilbur looked at his daughter and took her hand carefully and put his forehead on hers as he teared up. “I'm so sorry for forgetting what you taught me.”

“My daughter.”Wilbur choked up as he squeezed her hand, Fundy putting a hand over his mouth behind them.

“We played guitar.”

“I taught you guitar.”

“You would put your hands on mine.”

“You changed the melody every time.” Wilbur laughed quietly at the memory as tears were pouring down his cheeks.

“I would always change the line.” (Y/N) muttered as her grip started to weaken.

“Shh, I know, I know.” Wilbur shushed her gently as his grip only went tighter.

“I would always change the line.”

“I know, I know.” He had to keep her awake and talking if she stopped…! “Un-deux-trois-quatre-cinq-six-sept-huit-neuf.”

“Un-deux-trois-quatre-cinq-six-sept-huit-neuf.” (Y/N) repeated quietly.

“Good. Un-deux-trois-quatre-cinq-six-sept-huit-neuf.”

“Un-deux-trois…” She repeated partially with him before her eyes began to droop then closed.

“Sept-huit-neuf. Sept-huit—” Wilbur pleaded before he let out a sob as she didn’t respond.

Fundy sobbed as well as she was gone…

[vicious-vixxxen]

Kirishima x Male!Reader: First ‘I Love You’

I’m back on my Kirishima shit, so just bare with me- he really is one of my fav bois, and he’s just so sweet, can you even blame me? Though I’m almost finished with season 4 finally, and Tamaki is quickly closing in as the bestest sweet boi ;)  But yes, enjoy this little blurb, as I continue working on actual prompt fills- I just keep getting distracted, don’t @ Me  Enjoy <3  Kirishima x Male!Reader

Saturday nights in the dorms usually went one of two ways. Most of, if not all of class 1A were walking corpses, after accepting an extra day of training, not often offered by Aizawa in the first place: which is why they all usually accepted. Though that usually meant back at the dorms by two, and once everyone was showered, given a chance to finally catch their breath, and come together to make dinner, it was pushing six, and by then everyone was taking a note out of Bakugou’s book and crashing early. Some not even making it back to their rooms- sprawling out across the common area, and groggily rising too early the next morning, stiff necked and a little grumpy. /But/, if classes let out normally on Friday, and everyone was in bed at a reasonable enough time, Saturday’s were the absolute SHIT. A group breakfast to start, always. Bakugou aggressively whipping together a horde of spicy cinnamon french toast, and bacon, everyone stuffing their faces, discussing the previous week’s accomplishments. Areas in need of improvement, etcetera. Though without the added pressure of being in the midst of classes, and homework. They could reflect calmly, gather and offer tips, all smiles and jokes and general good naturedness. After breakfast, everyone split off to get ready for the day. Keeping the dorm stocked was a responsibility up to you all, which meant splitting the allotted weekly allowance the class was given, and separating into groups to get all the shopping for the coming week done. Groceries, cleaning supplies, toiletries, /unmentionables/. You all worked as a group, and allowing for a few stray hours of wandering, and personal shopping, visiting with family, you’d all be back around five. With the groceries put away, all errands run, the dorm dissolved into pure chaos. Different types of music blaring from individual rooms- dance dance revolution set up in the common room, the loudest of them all- all the dorm room doors open, save for Tokoyami’s, of course- and passing by any would give you a curious glimpse into the comfortable life the occupants had taken up there. “Wanna help me...ya know?” Kiri whispered into your ear, standing behind the sofa, bent down to nuzzle your temple, and speak. Blushing lightly, and giving you a sharp, lopsided grin as you broke your gaze from Denki’s...bold choice in dance movements against Mina. Noting Kirishima’s gaze moving up and down, before he jerked his head back in the direction of his room. Oh. Guess it was time for a touch up, huh?

Grin to match, you nodded, taking Kiri’s hand when he offered it, and allowing him to tug you up and over the sofa, nearly tripping over each other in your haste to get back to his room. Thirty minutes later, with a look of concentration on your face, you gently applied hair dye to the other boy’s roots. Hips swaying left and right, as Kirishima tapped his feet, and played air drums dramatically- making it difficult, but not impossible for you to get at all his roots. This was routine at this point. Ever since the two of you had started dating the year before, Kirishima was quick to let you in on his hair care secrets. It was only a matter of time before you caught him with a little bit of black peeking through, so rip the bandaid off all at once, Kirishima thought. It really was adorable how concerned he’d been over it. Muttering like Midoriya, before standing tall and announcing you’d have to love him for his box dye, or not at all! And here you were. Touching up his roots for maybe the hundredth time? If he needed any more clarification. The moron. But he was your moron. Getting more aggressive in his drumming, no doubt trying to mimic Bakugou in his mind, the hopeless goof. You smiled, despite yourself, as the song switched over, and you tilted Kirishima’s head back to get at the front you’d sectioned off. Mouthing the remix down at your boyfriend, and closing your eyes briefly as the beat pumped, and your body felt relaxed enough to collapse. But in a totally cool way, not like, a narcoleptic way. You hoped. ‘I will always love you,” you breathed in time, voice barely audible over the array of noises in, and outside of the dorm, but Kirishima watched, enraptured, mouth slightly agape as he read your lips. ’-I’ll love you forever’ you continued. Opening your eyes again, and staring down at Kiri’s. Breath hitching as you took in his pure, unadulterated admiration. And…. “Mmph!” Kirishima hummed suddenly, against your lips, as you’d leaned down to kiss him- both of you giggling against each other’s lips afterwards, as you moved around him. Careful of your gloved hands, and the brush of dye in hand, as you straddled the boys lap, and scooted forward till you were comfortable. Kirishima’s hands instinctively coming to rest on your waist. Palms sliding up and around to rub your back, as you continued applying dye top his hair. The two of you were quiet after, taking in the sounds of the dorms, and feeling the music blaring through Kirishima’s radio. Until you’d finished applying the dye, finally, and set your tools aside. Peeling off your gloves, and wiggling your sweaty fingers in Kiri’s face. Laughing suddenly as he nipped at them with sharp teeth. “That felt like a threat,” You teased, wrinkling your nose cutely at your boyfriend- Kirishima, ever the fan of the expression, beaming up at you, and kissing at your collarbone, where your shirt had ridden down. “That’s me, the boyfriend eater. Hide your boyfriends or i’ll gobble em up, all manly like”, Kiri boasted, and you couldn’t help but snort- having to restrain yourself from running your hands through his hair. For now. “We both know you’re tasty enough,” Kirishima added, winking at you, and you rolled your eyes, smacking the boys chest gently, before wrapping your arms carefully around his neck, and shifting back and forth in his lap to the new rhythm from the radio. At some point though, as you stared down at Kirishima- matching grins on your faces, as Kiri raised a hand to boop at your nose, and your lips, something hot, and happy ran through you. A sudden realization, as you stared into those gorgeous red pools he called eyes. It seared through you, racing down your spine, and jolting you up in your boyfriend's lap so suddenly, he paused- always on red alert, brows raised in question. It had never been something either of you had worried about saying- had never even truly discussed it. You cared about each other deeply, your connection since beginning your journeys at UA unprecedented. You’d watched each other grow, been there for the ride. Helped each other. Loved each other. Because you did love Kirishima. And he knew that...but not until just then, the scent of dye clinging to the air, did you realize you were, in fact, in love with him. You were in love with Kirishima. Wow. Your face was unreadable for a few long moments, before you huffed- almost in disbelief- and kissed at Kiri’s questioning thumb, now brushing along your jaw, and lips. “What? Kirishima asked finally, unable to take the silence. “Just realizing how absolutely, unequivocally in love I am with you. Kinda jarring,” You admitted, candid as ever, noting the way Kirishima froze beneath you. Mouth agape, and eyes wide. “Was that lame?” You asked as an afterthought, lips slowly pulling into a grin as Kirishima opened and closed his mouth several times, before his hands found their way up and around your jaw. Hesitating again, just a moment, as through the process what he;d just heard once more- before smashing your lips together. Heat, and passion, and love, all pouring into that one intimate gesture, and fuck it. Your hands carded through the sticky red dye clinging to the boy's roots, as you kissed back. Kissing until you absolutely couldn’t breathe anymore, and breaking away to pant, though only centimeters away from each other’s mouths. Foreheads pressed together, red dye smearing between the two of them, completely forgotten. “I love you too,” Kirishima sighed, hugging you close, and peppering your face with kisses. “So, so much. Love you so much, holy- I love you? Haha! I love you! I love you!” He shouted, bringing a deep blush to your cheeks, almost as red as your forehead now was as you wondered idly if anyone could hear him. Until you realized, you didn’t give one shit if they did. “I love you too! Again!” You shouted back, bursting into a fit of laughter with Kirishima, as you kissed again. And again, and again, and again.

[bratkook]

corrupt. jjk (m)

You’d be crying out in pain begging me to play my games. I could corrupt you, it would be ugly.

pairing: vampire!jk x human!reader genre: smut, pwp warnings: blood play, unprotected sex, dirty talk, exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, spanking, oral (f. receiving), partially clothed sex word count: 5k author’s note: literally everything i write is based on a song so listen to Corrupt by Depeche Mode. This also came to mind because my boss and i are obsessed with the idea of going to a sex club in berlin so i hope you enjoy lol. leave feedback or shoot me a message tysm ily bye. this also isnt edited yet im sorry

Standing in the middle of a dimly lit club in the heart of Berlin, the sound of a german band filling up the space all around you, is not how you thought your night would go.

Utterly alone, shimmying through the crowd of people all scantily clad in forms of leather or lace, some wearing nothing at all. No one seemed to mind you, no one gave you a second glance. The leather body harness you had on stuck to your body like second skin, the straps of it stretched across your breasts and covered your nipples. The only thing on your bottom half was a garter belt, a tiny pair of black underwear and fishnet stockings, finished off with some black heels.

You had begged your friend to come with you, being in the middle of your trip across Europe you wanted to visit the infamous sex club while in Berlin but she had been so against it. Not only was this club notorious for having orgies in the middle of the venue, which she thought was unspeakable, it was also a common hot spot for vampires as well, another taboo for her.

When she told you no you knew it was final so you didn’t mention it again. Instead you got dressed up in the bathroom of your airbnb, draped on a peacoat and headed out without a word. Luckily the club had coat check or else you’d feel entirely over dressed.

This club, unlike other vampire friendly ones you’ve visited, let everyone mingle together. You were accustomed to having dedicated rooms for humans, another for vampires, and a common ground for those who didn’t mind being together. But here it was a giant melting pot of both.

In the short ten minutes you’ve been here you had lost count of how many scarlet eyes you’d seen staring down at you, how many touches of cold skin you’d felt as you slipped by people, you felt very outnumbered and a little vulnerable but it sent a spark of excitement down your spine.

When you reach the bar, your arms press against the slightly tacky surface, a blonde with gleaming golden eyes greets you with a smile, “What’ll you have sweet heart?”

You strain your ears to hear her but try your best to tell her you’d just like a shot of tequila, she has no problem hearing your request, spinning around to grab the tequila from behind her.

Just as you start to ease up to being where you are, the feeling of someone slipping in beside you has you tensing up again. You keep your gaze on the bartender, watching her pour out your shot before sliding it over.

When you reach into the hem of your tights to pull out some cash she waves you off, “Its your first time here, consider it a welcoming gift.” She winks at you and moves on to the next thirsty guest before you can thank her.

You can sense the eyes boring into you from your right, your fingers gripping the edge of the shot glass as you lift it up to your lips. The curious observer just watches with a smirk as you throw back the shot, shutting your eyes as the warm liquid runs down your throat.

When you set the glass down and lick your lips over they finally speak, “First timer huh?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up at his voice, the low gravel of it swimming through your ears and getting your full attention. Its melodic, something about it has you turning to him like he had just said something ground breaking, and when you see who the voice belongs to you let out a small shudder.

The dark red of his eyes seems to glow in between the random flashes of light, his eyebrow arched up in curiosity as you drink him in. The hair on his head, parted to the side and showing the sharp eyebrows that frame his eyes, is an inky shade, the tips of the strands landing on his forehead.

He lets you take your time, watching you make your way down his face, reaching his soft lips, parted in a half smile that showcased the sharp fangs where your incisors are. The action should be threatening but all you can think of is having them sink into your skin.

The way he’s dressed is more modest than others, a sheer black mesh shirt hugging his chest, showing off the indents of muscles from how tight the material was. A harness similar to your own sits snuggly against his waist, the leather material matching that of his pants.

You snap out of it when you realize you’ve been staring at his crotch for more than seemed appropriate. Humor is written all over his face when you meet his gaze once more, remembering that the beautiful stranger had in fact asked you a question.

“Yeah, that obvious?”

He just chuckles, leaning against the bar top as well, “You just look a little intimidated is all. What is it, the vampires or the fucking in public?”

You push the shot glass further away from you, “Neither, I’ve had my fair share of vampires and if fucking in public scared me I wouldn’t be here.” Your words have piqued his interest, “Just first time jitters.”

He nods in understanding, “Fair, lets do some ice breakers then, I’ll start.” He clears his throat and inches closer to you, his shoulder nudging against yours, “My name is Jungkook, I’m technically 24, I enjoy making short films and I really want to fuck you.”

The small gasp you let out is clearly picked up by his ears, the smirk returning on his face at your reaction, “Oh wow,” you let out a giggle and he’s enamored by it, “well, my names Y/N, I’m 25, I enjoy baking and I really want to fuck you too.”

Jungkook hums, his tongue running along his teeth, “That can be arranged you know.”

You take a glance behind him, taking in the entirety of the club in the flashes of light. Almost every surface had a couple, at least, in the act of fucking each other in one form or another. In the middle of it all were the people who just came for the atmosphere, dancing along to the music playing as if ten feet away someone wasn’t getting fucked in the ass.

“Where?” You ask shyly, this was after all your first time at a club like this. The rules of dibs regarding location was foreign to you, not knowing what was off limits or not but Jungkook seemed to be very familiar with the club.

“Lets ease you into it yeah?” He murmurs out, his cold hand gently grasping yours and tugging you behind him as he slides through people without a care. The crowd seemed to split for him, humans and vampires alike staring him down but he paid them no mind as he crossed the floor.

The further you walked the more the crowd dispersed until you reached a hallway, the maroon walls were lined up with fetish photos, portraits of girls wrapped up in shibari, men wearing gimp masks along with shadow boxes holding various sex toys. In between each one were open doors, the rooms having a bed in the middle of them with lovers on top, the sounds of pleasure spilling out of the rooms and into the hallway.

Jungkook continued to lead you down the hallway, reaching a room he knows will be unoccupied. It was his room, no one ever used it but him, it was almost like an unspoken rule that it belonged to him so when you rounded the corner and stepped into it, the fact that i was completely untouched didn’t surprise him.

The bed was right in the middle, dimly illuminated by two sconces on the wall behind it. The black silk sheets look inviting, the large gold bed frame drawing you forward until your palms rested on the mattress, your fingers rubbing the soft material.

“I didn’t know places like this had beds.”

Jungkook steps behind you, his hands grasping your hips gently and pulling you back into him, “Mm, theres also a pool in the basement but I can show you that later.” He dips his head down, nuzzling his nose into the juncture of your neck and inhaling when the scent of you invades his senses.

He could hear the pounding of your heart, the blood pulsing through your veins in excitement. Jungkook knew you weren’t scared, you had waves of eagerness rolling off of you. The rythm of your heart wasn’t one of fear and as much as he used to love playing with his meals, knowing he didn’t have to sweet talk you into calming down made this more enjoyable.

“Yeah, later–laters good.” Your eyes flutter shut when his lips touch your skin, gently trailing up your neck and reaching your jaw. One of the hands that was on your hips came up to cup your cheeks, yanking your head around to crash his lips against yours.

The lingering remains of the tequila you had thrown back makes its way into his mouth when his tongue meets yours as he licks his way inside. Slowly you fully turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck and forcing him closer to you as your tongues tangled together messily.

Jungkook makes quick work at unclasping the harness you had on, his fingers coming together on your back and undoing the metal hooks until the fabric sagged off of your body. His lips never leave yours as you drop your arms, letting the leather material hit the floor.

When his hands come up to grasp your tits you pause kissing him, the icyness of his palm making your nipples pebble and he just smirks, almost as if he knows that you’re thinking of how his cold hands would feel inside your cunt.

“Such a pretty little human.” He mumbles out when he pulls back and stares at your exposed chest, his fingers twisting your nipple.

“Please,” you groan out, leaning forward to reattach your lips but he inches back to tease you, a playful smile on his face. “you said you wanted to fuck me.”

He relases your nipple, his hands now coming to undo his own harness, the garment joining yours on the floor but with it comes the mesh shirt. Inch by inch his smooth skin comes into view, the muscles on his stomach rippling as he peels it off and tosses it without a care.

“I do want to fuck you, so badly.” His head tilts slightly at you, watching you standing by the bed with your arms by your side and a pout on your face. “I like taking my time though baby, can you be patient for me.”

He hears the small intake of breath you make, nodding your head immediately. Patient? Yeah you could be patient for him, you could be anything for him. Its like his voice had you in a trance, any request he had could be fulfilled without a problem.

Jungkook reaches for you once more, his lips melting against yours while his hands guide your hips backwards, helping you onto the bed and pushing you back with ease. He slowly pushes you back until you’re fullt resting on the mattress, your hair splayed out around you with him hovering above you, his knees on either side of your thighs.

Your lips smack together for a moment, Jungkook gently nipping your bottom lip enough to draw a small bead of blood. When his tongue laps it up he moans into your mouth, the coppery taste mixed in with a hint of sweetness has his cock twitching. A small taste of whats to come, it takes him all the restraint he has to stop himself from devouring you here and now.

“Tastes,” kiss “so,” kiss “sweet.” He groans out in between kisses, pressing against you harder before trailing his lips down your body. You lay there with your chest heaving, your mind spinning when you feel the wetness of his lips kissing down your chest.

He envelopes your nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking around it with a moan, his other hand coming up to knead the flesh of your neglected breast and you gasp at the feeling, your back arching into his touch.

Your brain forcing your limbs to come into action now, your hand slipping into his hair and pushing him closer to you. The sensation of your fingers yanking his strands urges him on, sucking on your nipple while looking up at you, your eyes blown out in the darkness of the room, the bright red of his making him look predatory.

He pulls back with a wet smack, looking down at your saliva coated flesh and humming to himself while his hand continues to twist your other nipple. “So sensitive.” He comments when you whine at a particular hard tug he gives you, your head falling back with a sigh.

“Jungkook please.”

He relents, releasing your nipple and continuing his quest down your body, you’re expecting him to tug down your tights, maybe undo the garter belt before taking it all off but instead his fingers hook into the holes in the tighs around your crotch and yank hard. The sound of the fabric ripping has you lifting your head back up, catching him in the act of tearing your tights apart until your black panties were fully exposed to him.

Jungkook had slid off the bed, kneeling in front of you, his arms hooking under your thighs to drag you forward a bit, a smile spreading across his face when you let out a small shriek of surprise. The heels of your shoes rest on his back, your thighs sitting snuggly on his shoulders.

You can feel his breath against your skin, his lips hovering over the flesh of your inner thighs, his fingers digging into you as he licks his lips over. The anticipation is killing you, forcing yourself to drop your head back down because watching him stare at you like that was filling your stomach with nerves.

The soft flick of his tongue on your inner thigh has you tensing up, your hands reaching down to grasp his own, your warm fingers curling around his while they wrapped around your legs. Jungkook trails soft kisses on your skin, taking his time sucking and biting around your panties, his tongue gently flicking over your clit, a teasing motion that you barely feel through the material of your underwear.

He chuckles when your hands clutch his with annoyance, you had told him you could be patient but you were really doubting yourself now. Maybe fucking him out in the open of the club would’ve given you satisfaction a lot quicker.

Just as you’re about to voice your frustration, Jungkook pulls a hand away from your thigh, hooking his finger on the edge of your panties and yanking them to the side. Your glistening core shines back on him, his mouth salivating at getting a taste of you, wondering if your cunt was as sweet as your blood.

“Fuck.” You gasp when he licks a broad stripe up your slit, his tongue gathering your wetness in a practice move, a satisfied moan leaving his mouth at the taste. Everything he had said about taking his time was out the window now, diving into you shamelessly.

He growls when your hand comes back to tangle into his hair, the slight burn of his scalp causing him to eat you with more determination. His lips wrap around your clit, slurping and sucking gently enough to have you whimpering, your back arching up into him at the feeling.

Jungkook smirks when he releases your clit, nosing against it while his fingers circle your entrance, slipping in without resistance. The dirty thought that had crossed your mind before had been proven correct, Jungkook’s long icy fingers felt amazing inside your heat, spreading you open as if they were meant to be there. When he adds a second one, scissoring inside of you to stretch you out, a moan dies in your throat when you choke out, his lips come back to your center in a frenzy.

You can feel every ridge of his finger inside of you, grazing the bundle of nerves each time they thrust out, coupled with the way he’s sucking on your clit its not a shock that you’re quivering on the bed. 

“So fucking wet.” He awes for a second, the tug on his scalp letting him know you needed him to go back to what he was doing. A gush of wetness escapes you, dripping down his palm and onto the floor and he hums, he can hear the pounding in your veins increase in speed, the fluttering of your heart sounding like music to his ears.

“C-close,” you keen out, your heels digging into him and bringing him closer, “fuck, bite me. Please bite me.”

Thats all Jungkook needed to hear, his fingers slip out of you to replace his mouth, quickly circling your clit to have you hurdling over the edge. You can feel the pressure building in your abdomen, the controlled flicks of his fingers have you whining out.

Just as you’re about to teeter over Jungkook dips down and kisses your inner thigh once more, opening his mouth to clamp over your skin. In a flash his fangs pierce your flesh, a brief feeling of searing pain shoots up your body before being replaced by intense pleasure when he fully latches on, lips suckling on your skin.

The rich liquid pours into his mouth, the same coppery sweet taste he had sampled earlier is increased with the pleasure you feel. Jungkook’s eyes roll back at the flavor, his fingers not letting up on your clit even with the choked gasp of his name as you reach your orgasm. 

Your body trembles underneath him, your hands grip on his hair loosening up as he quenches his thirst. Everything feels tingly, each nerve ending on your body being lit up from the intense orgasm you just experienced. When he pulls away from your thigh, traces of blood spilling around his mouth he moans, nuzzling his way back to your center, gently licking the remnants of your orgasm off of you, enjoying how you whimper on the bed.

“So good.” He rasps out, his eyes flicking up to look at you and you gasp at how much brighter they are, a ruby red sparkling in the dark of the room, his eyebrow cocked up as he trails his way back up your body, letting your legs fall from his shoulders and back onto the bed.

His leather clad legs press against you, the feeling of his hardened bulge against your hip has you shuddering. “I’m not done with you yet, I’m going to ruin you baby.” He kisses up your chest, his eyes never leaving yours. The fucked out look on your face makes him rut against you, “You sure you want this?”

Your arms wrap around his torso, nails digging into his back as you rut up into him. His head drops down onto your neck when you grind against him, your wetness smearing along the leather. “I need it, ruin me Jungkook.”

The hiss he lets out has your toes curling, moreso when his mouth kisses along your neck, a teasing nip of his teeth on your skin, “Oh I will.”

Jungkook reaches down with one hand to unbotton his jeans, tugging them down enough for his cock to slip free. You don’t get a chance to look it over, the size of it being a total suprise to you since his lips were no on yours again, your eyes slipping shut as they worked together, teeth knocking into each other in a hurry.

He wraps a hand around himself, sighing into your mouth as he gives himself a pump. “Jungkook.” You groan into his mouth, wiggling your hips around as he positions himself between your thighs. He nudges your thighs further apart, your heels resting on the edge of the bed while his knees sink into the mattress.

“I know baby.” He mumbles against your lips, pressing another kiss to them. Thats when you feel the tip of his cock pressing against you, a slow rut of his hips following as he coats his length in your arousal.

Your nails dig into his back once more, the silk sheets gliding against your skin when you arch your back to get some sort of friction from him.

Jungkooks eyes are glued to where you meet, watching in admiration when he tugs your underwear to the side and eases himself into you, his cock sinking into your heat slowly. The feeling of him stretching you open has you moaning out loud, your head thrown back and exposing your neck to him.

“Fuck baby, you’re taking me so well.”

The stretch feels almost impossible for a second, you hadn’t seen his length but the feeling of it alone made it obvious that he was the biggest you’d ever had. When he bottoms out, his hips resting flush against your ass you whimper out.

“Feel so full.” You slur, humming softly when he kisses your cheek tenderly.

Jungkook just chuckles, “Gonna fuck you stupid.” Thats the only warning he gives you before inching back, rolling into you over and over until you’re adjusted to his size.

You knew after today you’d be ruined, you’d slept with your fair share of vampires but the way Jungkook’s cock split you open, pistoning into you in the most delicious way, you were done for.

The feeling of your nails digging in his back had him hissing, his arms caging you in underneath him. His eyes were focused on the way your breasts jiggled at every thrust, your body jostling upwards from the strength of them. Your face was screwed up in pleasure, your mouth dropped open as moans spilled out through your lips.

Jungkook was fucking you well and truly stupid, you looked lost in your pleasure, your walls fluttering around his length when he hit your sweet spot.

“Fuck,” you mewl, “so big. So–“ a gasp cuts you off when he speeds up his thrusts, the skin of his thighs smacking against yours with new found energy.

“Where’d those first time jitters go?” He wonders, one hand coming up to softly trail down your face, inching down until theyre placed around your neck, his fingers feeling the ferocious pulsing from your jugular.

“Such a fearless little human.” He grunts out with a groan, “Letting me do what I want with you, do you have any idea what I could do to you?”

A whimper leaves your mouth, your hips coming up to rut in time against his. You knew what he could do to you, if he really wanted to he could rip out your throat and drink you dry. Maybe it was the masochist inside of you, the idea of not knowing what could actually happen, of not being in control of the situation, that kept you going.

“I don’t care.”

That has a curious smile spreading across his face, “No? All you care about is my cock huh?”

You’re nodding immediately, yes his cock is all you care about. The way its stretching you open, the length of it hitting places inside of you without even trying. He fucked you like it was second nature to him, his thrusts being well timed, as if he knew the right way to get you falling apart underneath him.

“Can I–“ you press your palms against his chest lightly, the smal act of resistence causing him to still completely. He watches on curiously when you shimmy out from under him, your knees knocking into his as you turn over onto the bed on your hands and knees.

You’re facing the door now, seeing the flashes of light and the occasional person walking by the door and you briefly remember where you are. Jungkook watches you wiggle your hips at him, your fishnets stretched tightly over your ass.

“So fucking sexy.” He steps off of the bed, taking the time now to fully slip out of his pants, kicking them off and onto the floor before kneeling back onto the bed. His hands grasp your ass, kneading the flesh of them as he settles behind you, his palm coming up to land with a loud smack onto your skin. The sound mixing in with the thrumming bass of the club music and the moan you let out.

“C’mon, fuck me stupid.” You tease, dropping onto your elbows and spreading your thighs apart as you arch your back.

“Mm, careful what you ask for baby.”

His large palm splays across your back, pushing you down further while his other guides his cock back into you. The first thrust is a lot smoother than the last, the glide of your wetness helping him ease in to the hilt. This position has him reaching in deeper inside of you, your hands fisting the cool sheets as you moan out his name.

Its messy, the way his dick squelches every time it re-enters your, wetness coating his cock and dripping down onto the sheets. His palms grasp your hips, fingers digging into your flesh roughly. He knew he could crush you if he wanted to and the fact that you still laid here, drunk off his cock instead of running away, he knew he was just as ruined as you were.

“Jung-jungkook.” You gasp out, rutting back onto him with a small laugh and it catches his attention when he notices one of your hands come up to point at the door, “we have a visitor.”

He hums when his eyes lock onto the observer, another vampire he was familiar with, the dark red hair of Jung Hoseok flashes in the light. He’s leaning against the door frame, a drink in his hand as he watches on nonchalantly.

“Lets give them a show then yeah?”

He grinds against you with more purpose, one hand coming around to your front to meet your clit, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers until you’re trembling. Your pussy clamps around him, your mouth dropping open in a lewd moan, burying your face into the sheets while you let yourself get lost in the feeling of it all.

Knowing Jungkook was having his way with you while someone watched lit a fire inside of you, the way you were creaming his cock being evidence enough that you were clearly enjoying yourself.

“Harder, fuck me harder.”

Jungkook fulfills your request, starting to thrust into your heat harshly with no qualms about having a spectator. “You’re soaked baby, you gonna make a mess of these sheets?”

All of your senses are full of him, just him and his cock and the way he pounds into you, his fingers flicking against your clit with expertise. His grasp on your hips is the only thing keeping you from toppling over, your upper body laying limp on the bed as you let his ravish you.

When your eyes look up, meeting the gaze of the stranger by the door you smirk, sending them a wink and earning a chuckle from them.

Jungkook can feel you tightening up around him, his own release creeping up inside of him. He needs to taste you again, “Let me have another bite baby.”

He bends over your body until his nose pushes against your hair draped over your neck, a deep inhale sending shivers down your spine. Your hand comes up to move your hair out of the way, mewling when he nudges against your skin, “Oh god, yes.”

His lips latch onto you seconds later, the now familiar feeling of his fangs sinking into your skin making your whole body tense up this time. Your limbs lock up as he moans against your flesh, the warm blood dribbling into his mouth. Blood always tasted different coming straight from the jugular, the taste of it making his eyes roll back as he quickly ruts into you.

The euphoric feeling of him drinking from you pushes you over the edge once more, the pleasure sparking from the open wound until it reaches all of your limbs. Your walls clamp around him impossibly tight as you cum, a shout of his name leaving you as he fucks you through your orgasm.

His lips never leave your neck, suckling the blood from you as your body trembles underneath his. A weak whimper leaving your lips sends him over, his balls tensing up until he’s spilling into you, thrusting his hips against yours as deep as he could. The warmth of his cum fills you up, a soft sigh sounding out when he finally detaches from your neck, the smear of blood around your neck being licked up by him as he shallowly thrusts a few more times.

“Shit.”

Your eyes look up once more to find that the other vampire was now gone, leaving you and Jungkook alone once more, his cock still buried inside of you, your neck throbbing slightly after the abuse.

When he pulls out of you your hips full drop onto the mattress, the cool sheets feeling like heaven against your warm body. Jungkook chuckles at your worn out form, gently grasping you to flip you over to face the ceiling, not giving you a moment to recover before slotting his lips against your own.

You taste your own blood on your tongue, the coppery tang being new to you but you don’t mind it, not with the way he kisses you like you were more than just a messy fuck. He pulls back after a second and you grin at him, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks, your thumb rubbing the drying blood from his chin.

“What did I taste like?”

He presses another kiss against you, “Like fucking heaven, I could die eating your pussy.”

The wink he sends you makes you blush, swatting his chest lightly with a laugh, “I meant my blood you perv.”

“Oh I’m the perv now?” He teases, catching your hand before you can smack him again, “I think you ruined me too baby, never tasted blood this sweet.”

You bite your lip at his words, staring up at him with wide eyes in an almost innocent way as if you hadn’t just participated in this scandalous act. He wanted nothing more than to proposition you into being his blood bag, a somewhat intimate request but he knew it was useless. Considering you had never been to this club before he knew you weren’t from around here, you’d be long gone in a few days, a distant memory that would simmer away over time and for some reason it pained him to think that so he chose to suppress it.

“Let me walk you home, you never know what monsters could be lurking.”

That same giggle that enamored him earlier is back now, “If I could handle you I could handle anyone.”

His eyebrows arch up at your teasing tone, a smirk curling his lip as he stares you down, “Is that so?” His eyes have that same predatory look in them, your skin breaking out into goosebumps at the way he stares at you, looking like he’s ready to dive in once more.

He wasn’t finished with you yet.

[24hlevi]

I.L.Y

Pieck Finger (Attack On Titan) X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Summary: After a long dreadful war, Pieck and her girlfriend Y/n finally get married and all is happy and in peace once again. 

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: so i maybe went overboard with this but i couldn’t help it i absolutely loved this request, listen to the rose’s “i.l.y” if you would like to since it helped me with the title, writing it, and set the theme, also we are casually pretending ymir is still alive and is the jaw titan 

“Where the hell is Ymir?!” Hange exclaimed as they were helping get you ready alongside Mikasa.

“Probably with Historia.” Mikasa shrugged lightly. 

“Well can someone please find her? I can’t not have a maid of honor.” You said to the two girls that were beside you. 

“I’ll find her.” Mikasa said as she finished doing your hair and stepped away from you, smiling a bit. “After all, this is your big day, Y/n.” 

You smiled back as you looked at her through the mirror and nodded, “Thank you, Mika.” 

Mikasa nodded before turning and walking away and out of the room. 

Hange grabbed a chair and dragged it next to you before sitting down, “So, Y/n, are you ready for this? One of the biggest days of your life?” 

“If I have to be honest, I’m nervous but excited.” You answered, looking over at them. “Thank you for helping with this, Hange.”

“Of course! I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t help you! It’s your wedding day!” Hange smiled widely, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Speaking of, I found this that you might like that could add to your look!” The brunette reached into their slacks pocket and pulled out a small wooden box and handed it to you.

You tilted your head to the side in confusion but took the box and opened it. Taking the contents out, you let out a short gasp upon seeing what it was. It was a pair of earrings that Pieck had gotten you when it was your first year anniversary, but after a fight with titans, you thought you had lost them. “How did you find these?” You asked Hange.

“Let’s just say I had the whole squad help search the battlefield afterward to find them, and we did!” Hange answered with a bright smile. 

“Thank you so much, Hange.” You smiled back at them. You turned your head back to look at the mirror in front of you as you put on the earrings. 

The door suddenly opened and Hange and you looked over, seeing Mikasa walk back in with Ymir and Historia. 

“You look so great, Y/n!” Historia beamed, walking up towards you and Hange. 

“I do have to admit, you look great.” Ymir smiled slightly at you. 

“Well, I’m glad you two decided to show up.” You chuckled lightly. “And thank you.” You stood up from your seat and your pearl white dress fully reached and touched the ground. 

“So when is this supposed to start anyways?” Ymir asked.

A knock was heard on the door before it opened, revealing Levi in an all black suit. “It’s time.” 

You could feel your nervousness and excitement rush through your veins when hearing Levi’s words and you nodded. “Okay, let’s do this.” 

“We’ll see you there, Y/n!” Hange grinned as they  walked past you, patting your shoulder and walking past Levi along with Ymir, Historia, and Mikasa.

Levi could sense your nerves just from looking at you and he looked at you, “You ready for this?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, smiling at the male.

“Alright, let’s go.” Levi extended his arm outward for you to link your own through.

You nodded again, linking your arm through his as you both began to walk down to the venue. Your heels clicked on the ground you walked on with every step and you tried to push down your nervousness. 

“Everything will be fine,” Levi said out of nowhere. “Don’t get so nervous, this is the love of your life that you’re marrying.” He reassured you.

“I know.” You replied with a short nod. 

You two stopped in front of the large closed double doors, hearing the chatter of people from inside the room. You heard the music begin to play and the doors opened, allowing you to see everyone else who was there. 

Levi began to walk you down the aisle and a smile rested on your face as you walked. You looked over at Pieck who was watching you and Levi with a soft smile, wearing a white dress that was a bit shorter than yours. Levi stopped once reaching the arch and he unlinked his arm 

with yours, looking at you with a small smile before walking away and sitting down. You turned so you were facing Pieck who was in front of you and continued to smile, “Hi, love.”

“Hi, honey.” Pieck said with a smile, reaching forward and grabbing your hands. 

Reiner cleared his throat as he looked at you both, “Alright ladies, ready to do this?” 

You and Pieck agreed that you would have Reiner be the one to announce your marriage since he was the only one that could do it all correctly and because he offered to do it. To be honest, both of you were surprised when he offered that he would do it since it was assumed that he had absolutely no experience with this kind of thing. But yet again, none of you did. 

Both of you nodded and Reiner opened the small book that he had in his hands before speaking. “We’re all here today to celebrate the relationship of Pieck and Y/n and to be witnesses and supporters of the commitment they share with one another. Together, we are the most important people in their lives and they’ve brought us here to recognize that we’ve all played some special part in the love they share today. Marriage gives permanence and structure to a couple’s love. Marriage is telling the person you love that you’re not going anywhere and that’s a powerful commitment for two people to make to one another. A good marriage must be built on the foundation of this commitment. In marriage, the ‘little’ things are the big things. It is never being too old to hold hands. It is remembering to say ‘I love you’ at least once a day. It is never going to sleep angry. It is standing together and facing the world. It is not only marrying the right partner, it is being the right partner.”

Reiner stopped for a moment, glancing around at everyone before continuing. “The road that has brought Pieck and Y/n here today hasn’t been easy. It’s been filled with many challenges that they weren’t exactly prepared for. But together they’ve taken each one on and have used those experiences to strengthen, not weaken their love. Y/n and Pieck, the vows you are about to make are a way to show your love and commitment to each other in your own words. These vows are your way of openly declaring your promise to one another as well as to all of those with us here today. Y/n, please give your vows first.” 

You turned your head behind you where Ymir was standing alongside Mikasa and Historia and she took a step forward, taking a small piece of paper out of her pants pocket and handing it to you. You smiled and took the paper before looking back at Pieck, unfolding it before starting to read from it. “Pieck, you are not only the love of my life, but also my best friend. I want to be with you for the rest of my life and I know I will have no regrets about it. You somehow are always able to cheer me up when I’m upset about something and you never fail to succeed. You are the most important person in my life, and I can’t wait to share the rest of our lives together.” 

“Since when were you the one good with words?” Pieck joked with a light chuckle before taking the piece of paper from Annie who was behind her, looking back at you and starting to read, “Y/n, my love, we’ve known each other for multiple years now and these years have been the best out of my entire life. Despite being on opposite sides, we were still able to love each other dearly and now tie the knot to be together for the rest of our lives. You make me the happiest I’ve ever felt and I can’t wait to give each other all the time in the world, no matter what we do.” 

“Wow, those were beautiful.” Reiner said to himself quietly before clearing his throat. “Ymir and Annie, please give the rings to our two brides.” 

Both maids of honor handed Pieck and you the rings they were holding onto and Reiner began to speak again, “Y/n and Pieck will now exchange rings to symbolize their commitment. Rings are derived from humble beginnings of imperfect metal to create something striking where there was once nothing at all. It is customarily worn on the ring finger of the left hand as it’s the only finger with a vein running directly to the heart. The wearing of the ring is a visible, outward sign that they have committed themselves to one another.” The blonde male then looked over at Pieck, “Pieck, please take Y/n’s hand and repeat after me.” 

Pieck nodded as she took your left hand, smiling at you. Reiner then started to talk again, “I give you this ring, as a symbol of our love. For today and tomorrow, and for all the days to come. Wear it as a sign of what we have promised on this day. And know that my love is present, even when I am not.” Pieck repeated the words before putting the ring on your finger. 

Reiner looked at you before speaking, “Y/n, please take Pieck’s hand and repeat after me.” You nodded, reaching forward and holding onto your soon to be wife’s hand and Reiner repeated everything he said to Pieck first. “I give you this ring, as a symbol of our love. For today and tomorrow, and for all the days to come. Wear it as a sign of what we have promised on this day. And know that my love is present, even when I am not.” You said, sliding the ring onto Pieck’s finger.

“Alright, last part.” Reiner said before reading from the book in his hands again. “Y/n and Pieck, you have professed your love by exchanging your vows. You have symbolized your commitment by exchanging rings. With all of this done there is one more question I need both of you to answer and then we can all celebrate.” He looked over at you, “Y/n, do you take Pieck to be your wife, to live together in the covenant of marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?” 

“I do.” You nodded, smiling. 

Reiner smiled a little bit as he then looked over at Pieck, “Pieck, do you take Y/n to be your wife, to live together in the covenant of marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all the others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?” 

“I do.” Pieck said softly, her smile growing bigger. 

“Then by the power vested in me, not really but anyways, I now pronounce you wife and wife. You now may kiss!” Reiner smiled. 

Pieck smiled widely at you, holding the sides of your face gently as she leaned in and kissed you with you kissing back immediately. 

“It’s my great honor and privilege to be the first to present you as Mrs. and Mrs. Finger-Y/L/N!” Reiner continued to smile as he threw the book behind him. 

You both pulled away from the kiss, smiling at each other as Pieck held onto you hand, “Now the fun begins.” She said to you with a giggle before walking with you away from the arch and past all of your friends who were all cheering loudly. 

You couldn’t believe this was actual happening. After the long, dreadful, and depressing war, you didn’t think that there would be a recovery of happiness. But when Pieck proposed to you out of nowhere, you began to realize that there would be a time when everyone would be happy again. And today just so happened to be that day. You were glad that everyone was there too, and that there was no more bad blood between each other. Or at least they didn’t show it, which you were also glad for. You were now married to the love of your life, and it was only going to get better from here. 

…

“Hey, Pieck?” You said quietly, under the covers of the bed with your wife’s arms around you and legs tangled within one another. 

“Yes, honey?” Pieck replied, being so close that you could feel her breath tickle your neck. 

“I’m so happy that you’re my wife now, and I love you.” You told her. 

Pieck smiled and planted a kiss on your neck before speaking quietly, “I love you too, Y/n. I always will.” 

Shortly after that you could hear her breathing stay at a steady pace, signifying that she was asleep. You looked down at her and smiled, kissing her forehead and running your fingers through her black hair slowly. You were so grateful to have her in your life, and vice versa. You two were truly happy with one another, and so deeply in love with each other that nothing and no one would ever break you apart. You both intended to keep it that way as well, not wanting to get separated from the other.

If war couldn’t break you two apart. Then nothing would. Everything would be happy and in peace, just like it was supposed to be. 

[kindahoping4forever]

All I Want For Christmas Is You // Ashton Irwin

Day 3 of Hoe For The Hoe-lidays! I hope everyone is enjoying the event so far, we’re having a lot of fun! Please be sure to let us know what you think either via ask or in your tags if you’re a kind reblogging soul 😉

Stay tuned today for a new Cal blurb from Cass on her @cal-puddies​​ blog and as always, each new piece will be linked on the masterlist below.

Warnings: Oh you know, just gifting Boyfriend!Ash with some good old fashioned road head for the holidays 😌

Word Count: 1785

Hoe For The Hoe-lidays Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist and Ko-Fi linked above

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

“I would’ve taken you to get some real coffee if you’d asked,” Ashton comments grumpily.

You ignore his negativity, pecking his cheek. “It’s good! I mean it’s still gas station coffee but it’s not flavored or anything. Unsweetened and disgusting, exactly what you like,” you cheerfully reply, sitting the drinks in the cup holder.

When he’d heard you were planning to travel a couple hours away to pick up a gift you wanted to give your mother for Christmas, he eagerly offered to accompany you on your journey, even volunteering to drive.

The trip there went smoothly; he picked you up early, you stopped for breakfast along the way and had fun singing Christmas songs, sharing holiday memories and enjoying each other’s company. You’ve only been dating since the summer so every new fact you learn about each other is fascinating and the idea of spending time together is even more novel as the holiday season unfolds.

The rest of the trip, however, is a different story: you got caught up at your destination and your one-stop shopping trip turned into a multi-store, multi-hour tour of the mall, putting your return trip smack in the middle of rush hour traffic.

You'd hoped that your suggestion of pulling off the freeway to fill up the tank would’ve helped either his mood or the traffic but as you plop back in the passenger seat, wincing at the latest traffic delays, you concede your plan may have failed.

“That bad, huh?” Ashton guesses, seeing your face as he starts the car back up.

“Yeah… traffic looks pretty light if you skip the freeway and take the streets, though,” you offer positively.

“Traffic’s light because no one’s taking the streets unless they have to,” he scoffs. “Long stretches of road without anyone or anything nearby and it’ll add at least another hour, if not more to our trip.” He runs a hand through his long hair and over his tired face, scratching at his beard, frustrated.

You’re not used to him like this, so pessimistic and combative. You respond, much quieter than before, “Just thought it’d be better than white knuckling through another hour of bumper to bumper.”

He immediately notices your change in demeanor and reaches over to squeeze your knee. “Hey... you know I’m not mad at you, right? It’s just been a long day and stuff like this makes me a little crazy,” he explains.

“I know… I’m just sorry I turned this into a way bigger deal than you thought it was going to be, I didn’t mean to take up your whole day,” you shrug.

“I offered you my day, baby,” he corrects. He takes a sip of his iced coffee and makes a displeased face, yet keeps drinking it. “We haven’t seen each other much lately and I’m not gonna see you at all for the holidays so I’m not complaining about a few extra hours with you.”

He laces his fingers with yours, bringing them to his face to place a kiss on your knuckles. He gets back on the road and it takes less than 10 minutes of freeway traffic for Ash to agree with you about taking the alternate route.

His disposition may have lightened but he’s clearly not in the mood to talk so you flick the radio to the local Christmas music station. You hear him take a deep, steadying breath but don’t think anything of it as you quietly sing to yourself while you sip your coffee and answer texts.

The music simply exists in the background, neither of you paying it much mind until the opening tinkles of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” sound out through the speakers. You excitedly sit up in your seat to sing along but notice your boyfriend clenching his jaw, gripping the steering wheel as if his life depends on it.

You get through the first verse before you steal another glance at Ash and he looks inexplicably, comedically furious. You don’t want to push your luck based on the day you’ve had but you can’t imagine what the issue is. “Um, babe? Everything alright?” You tentatively ask, turning the radio down.

He takes another deep breath and says as evenly as he can manage, “Sweetheart. You know I care about you. You know I want you to be happy. I love when you’re happy. Nothing makes me happier than when you’re happy. But I swear to fucking GOD if I have to hear that fucking song one more fucking time I’m going to lose my goddamn fucking mind.”

You can’t help but burst out laughing. “What?!”

“Baby, it was on the radio a few times on the trip there, we heard it at the breakfast place, every goddamn store in the mall played it. I’m at my wit’s end," he insists.

“Was my rendition really that bad?” You joke.

A grin threatens to creep up his cheeks but he remains stoic. “Just trying to get us back to our respective homes with my mind and body in one piece.”

“Homes plural? I don’t even get to invite you in to make up for how today turned out?” You tease, walking your fingers up his thigh.

“You're not ready for a break from a grinch like me?” He asks with a faint smile. You feel a rush of serotonin shoot through you when you see the sparkle back in his eyes.

“Aww, I’m pretty sure I know a way to raise your holiday spirit,” you smirk as your hand settles on his crotch.

"That so?" He laughs coyly, enjoying the build up.

You drape yourself over his seat, attaching your lips to his neck while you palm him. "Long stretches of road without anyone or anything nearby?" You quote his words back to him as you hastily undo the button and zipper of his jeans. "Sounds like a perfect opportunity to help relieve some holiday stress."

Ashton inhales sharply as you pull him out of his boxers, attentively massaging his tip between your thumb and forefinger. "You know you don't have to do this just because of earlier, baby," he states softly.

You press a soft kiss to his cheek before ducking down to lick a long stripe all the way up his shaft, suckling gingerly at the head when you reach it. You let your spit collect in your mouth and fall onto him when you pull off to say, "Oh, I meant I'm doing this to relieve my stress but you're right, I can see how this would help you out too."

He laughs loudly and you think there may not be a sweeter sound in the world - at least not until you hear the awed way he mutters your name when you slowly slide your mouth down his cock, almost making it all the way to his balls before you start to choke and pull up.

You hollow your cheeks and bob your head, tongue working him over in your mouth just how you've learned he likes. His hand rests gently on top of your head, occasionally tangling his fingers in your hair but careful to never apply pressure. It enters your mind that part of you wishes he would and you moan around him at the thought.

Ash can't help but quickly cast his eyes down to take a peek; he groans loudly at the sight of you in his lap with his cock nearly buried in your throat. You swirl your tongue around him as you pull up, hand cradling his balls.

"God, baby… feels so good… your mouth is fucking heavenly," he sighs breathlessly.

You press your legs together at his praise, regretting you didn't wear that skirt you'd considered this morning, wishing there was some way you could relieve the ache between your thighs before you got home.

He must've noticed your struggle because suddenly he's asking, "Being such a good girl turning you on, baby? How wet has sucking me off made you?"

You whine, pulling off with a loud pop. "Ash… been wet since I first thought to do this," you admit, stroking him while you catch your breath.

"Poor baby," he replies with a smirk. "Can you behave and wait to cum until we get back? Or are you so desperate for my cock that I'm gonna have to pull over and fill you in the middle of this goddamn highway?"

Your head spins, overwhelmed by arousal. "Only ever wanna be good for you," you whimper, sloppily kissing up and down his length. "Wanna be good and make you cum." Your declaration has barely left your lips before you're sucking him again, with renewed intent.

"Fuck, baby, yes… wanna give you my cum, you deserve it," he babbles as your mouth works him, up and down, up and down.

You pull up to pump him again and out of the corner of your eye, you notice his blood moon tattoos practically jumping off his skin with how tightly he's beginning to grip the steering wheel.

Before you even have a chance to teasingly comment, Ashton's breath hitches and with a sharp cry of your name, his cock is suddenly throbbing in your hand, cum shooting up and onto the shoulder of your sweater.

You giggle in shock but act quickly, moving to try and get him back in your mouth, a task made difficult by the forceful pulses of his orgasm; you can't help but moan as you feel the stripes of hot cum hit your cheek before you're able to wrap your lips around him, sucking the final drops from his tip.

He finally lets out an exhausted huff, followed by an elated chuckle. "Jesus, baby, I'm sorry," he apologizes, looking over in disbelief as you shift back to your seat, trying not to make a mess of the car, digging through the glove box for tissues. "That came out of fuckin' nowhere."

You wipe your face, snickering, "You're telling me." You use your water bottle to dampen a tissue and start carefully dabbing at the stain on your sweater. "To be fair, you did say you wanted to give me your cum. So. Mission accomplished, pal."

He cackles, stealing another glance at you, unsure if this memory will ever leave his mind. "Gonna make you feel so fucking good when we get back," he promises breathlessly.

"Decided to come over to mine after all, then?" You tease with a smile.

Ash squeezes your knee. "I've got favors to return, my dear," he giggles. "Plus, we need to go online so you can pick out the new sweater I clearly need to give you for Christmas."

————-

Taglist issues again so my apologies if you get notif’d more than once (or not at all)

@mymindwide​ @suchalonelysunflower​​ @pxrxmoore​ @loveroflrh​ @ghostofmashton​ @sexgodashton​ @feliznavidaddycal​  

@castaway-cashton​ @ashtonlftv​ @cashtonasfuck​ @megz1985​ @ashdork-irwin​ @angelicfluffs​ @findingliam-o​ @youngbloodchild​  @irwinsbetch​ @everyscarisahealingplace​

@wiildflower-xxx​ @metalandboybands​​  @realisticnotes​​  @makeamovehemmings​​ @golden166​​ @burstintocolor​​

@mfartzzz​​ @babyoria​​ @petunias-pet​ @youngblood199456​​ @notinthesameguey​​ @seanna313​​  @zhangyixingxing1​​ @stardust-galaxies​​  @zackoid​​

@lovelybonesetc​​ @xsongxbirdx​​ @justhereforcalum​​   @ashtonangst​

@laura66sos​​ @calumrose​​ @karajaynetoday​​  @pilunb​​ @jazzyangel242​​ @babylon-corgis​​  @heyheyhaleyd​​ @calmsweetcreature​​

@spicycal​​ @talkfastromance4​​  @holystxne​​

@meetmedowntown​​ @myloverboyash​​

@irwindoll​​ @cheekysos​​ @carrielfisher​​ @lukedorkyhemmings​​ @creampiecashton​​ @lovelywordsblog​​

@trix-arent-for-kids @uh-huhh-honey @tobefalling @aladyofalbion @likehuhdude

@curlycalums​​  @cxddlyash​​  @reddesert-healourblues​​

@fedorable-killjoys​​  @iamcalumswhore​​   @i-like-5sos​​   @Too-et-moi215

@photochic18  @kouska901 @Indermeow  @dantord

[sylvain-writes]

Doors Will Open (Donatello x Reader)

Rated: G

Gender Neutral Reader, pre-relationship, movie night, tenderness, cuddling, supportive brothers

You surprise Donnie with lembas bread for your Lord of the Rings movie night.

for @blancoluna

Donatello is holed up in his laboratory of mischief and oddities when you arrive at the lair bearing treats. But Mikey is there to greet you, jumping out of the Pit to graciously unload the deep tupperware of cookies from your hands. 

His eyes twinkle as he leans in to stage whisper, “You’re my favorite, know that?”

April walks up behind him with a gasp of indignation. “I’m gone five minutes!”

“But, but...” He lifts the box in his defense, “Cookies!”

“Ooh.” April’s eyes go wide and warmth floods your cheeks at their enthusiasm. She rubs her hands together with delight. “Can I grab one for the road?” You nod, of course, encouraging her to take as many as she likes. “You’re my favorite too,” she says with a giddy bounce.

Your laughter draws Raphael and Leonardo from the tunnels, and your excitement for the evening mounts. Rising to your toes hopefully, you try to capture a glimpse of Donatello behind them. The tunnel, however, is otherwise empty. Your heart sinks just a little.

Everyone gathers in the kitchen, welcoming you and trying to convince April to stay, but with each passing minute, the absence of your best friend grows harder to ignore. 

“Wheel of Time is in my bag,” you mention to Leo half-heartedly. It’s a book series he’s been begging to borrow for ages. You’re proud of yourself for remembering to bring it, and you don’t want to get distracted and forget. 

“Thanks!” Leo unlatches your messenger bag immediately, diving into a confession that only serves to prove what a nerd he is. Apparently, he sped through the Lord of the Rings this week in his excitement for the weekend movie marathon. You nod along with an amused smile. You're usually overjoyed to have the fellow bookworm to talk to, but your attention keeps drifting to the empty tunnels. 

A lull in his rambling gives you an opportunity to ask, “Is Donnie coming?” You have trouble meeting Leo's eyes, but you try your best to keep the question sounding casual and light. You don’t want Leo, Raph, Mikey, or April to feel like you don’t value their company, but you brought down supplies for Movie Night under the impression Donatello would be joining in; you don’t want to start without him.

“Oh, I’ll get that knucklehead,” Leo says, stacking the books to carry. “He probably just lost track of time.” 

Turning from Mikey's final, futile plea for April to stay, Leo heads toward his room to drop off the books, then to the workshop to gather their missing brother.

The muted sounds of tools and machinery come through the heavy door in clanks and whirrs. But Leo knows Donnie won't mind the intrusion.  He raps a knuckle against the small frosted window and gives his brother a shout. 

Donatello raises his voice over the buzz of a circular saw to ask, “Emergency?” But the sound of the blade cutting through metal continues without pause.

“No.” Leo won’t lie. He won’t test Donnie’s nerves with trickery, not even when the reveal is something his brother has been looking forward to all week. 

“Password?” Donnie counters next.

Leo screws up his face, searching his memories for the right answer. “I don’t know, dude. There’s cookies? And, like, ten hours of movies, so-”

The saw goes silent before the 'shop door opens with a snap. Leo takes a step back to give his brother room. 

Donnie’s face pops through the gap, his eyes looking unnaturally large through the magnifying lenses perched atop his beak. “What day is it?”

“Uh, Friday.”

“Y/N is here?”

Leo's exasperated answer hisses through the tunnel. "Yes." 

Donatello lets the door swing wide as he pulls off his goggles and hangs them on their hook. “Why didn’t you start with that?” he asks as he tidies up his station. His hands fly over the tables, reorganizing the space for his return. He fumbles his wrenches into their case in his rush. "How long have they been here? Why didn't anyone get me sooner?"

Leo doesn’t hide his grin, so happy to see Donnie this close to admitting his crush. “Oh, so they’re the password, huh?”

Donatello’s blush starts at his neck and rises up to his ears. “That’s not…” He gives a little huff as he rolls his tool cart to its place against the wall. “Shut up, Leo.”

Slinging an arm around Donnie's neck, Leo drags him into the hall. He grinds his knuckles over his little brother's head with a light chuckle.  Though Donnie easily squirms free, Leo knocks him with a shoulder, a tease and a mark of support. 

At first, Leo had been reticent to encourage his brother's feelings for you, but over time it's become obvious that Donnie’s affections are far from one-sided. Being what they are, that came as somewhat of a shock to him, but it was the best kind of surprise.

Donnie's lucky to have you in his life. And Leo hopes that one day soon, the two of you will get your acts together. It's about time you two admit just how happy the other makes you.

*

You're picking at the edge of the countertop, stomach in knots, when you hear the echo of footsteps draw near. Leo and Donnie enter the main living space pushing and shoving, but there's not a hint of anger on their squabble. Laughter stretches their smiles wide. 

You bite your lips together, anticipating the moment when Donatello finds you. There's become a shared second of pause when you meet, though you don't know when that began. You try to prepare yourself for it each time, but it always leaves you breathless. 

When Donatello’s eyes fall on you, his laughter peters out and his smile goes soft. Your lungs ache with the breath you've forgotten to release until Donatello breaks the spell. "I was told there would be cookies?"

You gesture to the box, hoping the slight tremor in your hand isn't obvious. "Lembas, actually." It's silly, your newly developed nervousness around him. Donnie is the person with whom you feel safest, most free to be yourself. He's your best friend in the world. 

Your crush on him shouldn't change that. But it does. It could change everything.

Donatello's eyes slide to the box and his jaw drops comically. "Are you kidding me? How did you-? Why did-?" His long strides bring him to the table before he has a chance to form a full sentence.

"It's our weekend," you say. A blush colors your cheeks as you catch your choice of phrase. "I mean, Lord of the Rings weekend. Remember?" You fiddle with the ring hanging from your neck, your fingers running back and forth over the elvish script. 

"I didn't. I do now! I didn't realize it was Friday until Leo… But Lembas!" He's probably the biggest nerd of you all.

"Go ahead." The mess of crumbs on the counter is evidence Raph and Mikey have grabbed their share. Thankfully, they left some for the rest of you. 

Leo skirts around you to take a cookie for himself while Donatello inspects his square of pastry with care. Turning it over in his hands, Donnie hums. "It smells like citrus and almond."

"There's lavender too," you supply gently. It took a few tries and a few tweaks of the recipe you found to get it just right, but you're quite proud of the end result.

"Yeah," he gives a slow nod. "And lavender. I was getting to that." He looks at you in awe. "This is really… it's so cool."

"You didn't even try it." Your racing heart switches gears from nervousness to anticipation for Donnie to have a taste.

"Oh, right." Donatello takes his first bite, follows it quickly with a second, and the cookie is gone. "Wow." Crumbs fall from his lips and you chuckle at his enthusiasm.

"I can make more," you offer as he reaches for another, "if you guys like them so much."

Donnie nods and drops his gaze as he seems to consider it. "...maybe you can make them here," he says finally. "With me, y'know? Show me how it's done."

Your blush returns at the suggestion and you find yourself hesitant to agree to the plan. 

Donatello's eyes blink wide and his almost pout is irresistible as always. You can't fathom why you'd give up the chance to be the one teaching Donatello something for once. 

With a leap of your heart, you give in. "Yeah, of course. We can swing by my place later and grab the stuff. Could be fun."

"Could be," he agrees quietly.

Donnie meets your eyes again and the moment of stillness between you stretches long--

Until Raphael speaks up from the couch with an exaggerated groan. "Can ya please get over here already? There's a whole mess of movies waitin' for us and you're busy yappin'."

Donatello grabs the box of cookies and rummages through the cabinet for Pop-Tarts while you make your way over to the TV. Of course, not even lembas can fill his appetite for sweet pastry. 

In the Pit, the lighting is dim. Title screen music rises and falls, drawing you into the fantasy world of Middle Earth.

Leo has taken a seat atop the back of the couch to give Raph and Mikey room on the cushions below. At the sight of your approach, Mikey scoots toward his brothers to make you a place by the armrest.

It's a comfortable fit, even for your favorite position, sitting with your legs pulled up, criss cross. But when Donnie comes in, there's no real room for him. He doesn't seem to mind. He places the plate of lembas and box of Pop-Tarts on the coffee table. Then, without hesitation, he takes a seat on the floor in front of you.

Mikey starts up the movie and the epilogue scenes cast the room in shadows and flashes of light. Donatello settles in against your legs and everyone's eyes focus on the screen.

The film plays and the temptation to reach toward Donatello increases with his every shift. Though he hasn't complained, you think he must be uncomfortable down on the floor. If nothing else, the way he rolls his shoulders probably means he's feeling stiff. 

It's dark enough, you could lay your hands on his shoulders, work the knots out of his muscles and neck, without attracting the attention of his brothers. But you don't. As you indulge yourself in fantasy, Donatello shifts once more.  He slides into position between your knees and the tails of his bandana catch on the hem of your jeans. 

You stare for a moment, unsure if you're allowed to touch. Then, Donnie leans back and smiles up at you and you could swear your heart stops. It only lasts a second before his eyes return to the screen, but it fills you with comfort, confidence, and calm.

Careful not to tug, you take the tails of his mask in hand and lay the long strips of cloth over your lap. With steady passes, the fabric runs through your fingers. It's soft and worn. Stained and fraying on the ends. The movie plays on, but as far as you're concerned there's only this. 

You twist the tails of Donnie's mask around your fingers. You tie them into loose knots, losing yourself in the quiet intimacy of having Donatello so close. 

Donnie tips his head to the side as you play, turning his body just enough that he can rest his head on your knee. 

You bend at the waist and drop your voice as quiet as it can go to avoid being overheard by the others. "You OK?"

Donatello nods, nuzzling his cheek against your knee just enough for you to notice. "It's nice," he says, and you drag the tails of his bandana through your fingers again. 

As you sit up, you spare a glance at his brothers. Raph and Leo are sitting forward, elbows on their knees, enraptured by Arwen's race on horseback. But Mikey's watching you through the corner of his eye. He gives you a small, knowing smile before turning his attention back to the screen.

When it's time to switch DVDs, everyone agrees it's time for a stretch. 

Donnie's the first one back to the Pit. And he takes it upon himself to lie across all three cushions of the couch with a lazy grin. Mikey doesn't even bother with him, ducking out to meet up with April and leaving his older brothers to fend for spots on the broken recliner and floor.

Donatello makes grabby hands as you return from the kitchen with a pair of sodas. You think he'll sit up, make some room. But to your surprise, Donatello exaggerates his sprawl. He takes the drinks and places them on the floor, then extends his hands toward you again.

You only have a second to register his request before he takes your hand in his and gently pulls you onto the couch with him. 

Cuddled up between the couch and your back, Donatello gives a little shimmy and a wistful sigh. 

Your heart is racing and you're tingling from your hands to your toes, but fitting against the curves of Donatello's bent knees and soft embrace takes no thought at all. And once you're there, you can't imagine ever wanting to leave.

*

The second Fellowship DVD comes to an end, and Donatello's breath tickles your neck, "One more?"

You shrug into the feeling of his words ghosting over your skin. "I'll fall asleep," you admit regretfully. You're so comfortable in his arms, you don't want to go home. But it's precisely that warmth and safety that are making it so hard to stay awake.

"I won't make fun of you if you snore," Donnie teases. There's soft pressure on your scalp and you're sure that's the feeling of him snuggling into your hair.

"I make no promises," Raph chimes in from the recliner. You'd long since forgotten you had company. The sound of his voice should come as a shock, should have you scrambling out of Donnie's arms. But it's only Raph, and he's picking on you the same as always. And there's a kind of approval in that -- the kind you never dreamed of receiving.

You try to shoot him a scowl, but you're grinning because you can't help it. 

*

You were right about having difficulty staying awake. The film isn't on for five minutes before your eyes drift closed.

"Are you asleep?"

"Still listening," you mumble dreamily. Donatello's arms tighten around you and his chin tucks over your head. It's enough to send you adrift into a deep and peaceful sleep.

You wake up in the morning alone but wrapped in a purple knitted blanket you recognize from Donnie's room. You pull it snug around your shoulders as you sit up to check your phone.  There's a text from your roommate and emails that can be ignored, but one notification stands out. You touch the media message from Raphael. 

Though you roll your eyes at the blurry thumbnail, your curiosity has you pressing play. The video is only 20 seconds, anyway. 

It loads immediately and the image clears. You smile at the closeup of Donatello asleep on the couch. The audio is low but you can clearly make out the snuffling rise and fall of his snores. You allow yourself a little laugh as you watch the video play through again. And you don't miss the way Raphael panned to show you and Donnie together dozing comfortably -- your limbs entangled and your face tucked into the crook of his neck.

You're unsure where you two stand and where your relationship will go, but your stomach is full of butterflies and your heart is content.

"Did you sleep OK?" Donnie asks as he comes in from the kitchen. He's brought tea and toast -- a simple but sweet gesture. 

You take a moment to enjoy the sight of him bringing you breakfast 'in bed' and tuck your phone away with a smile. "I slept great."

[sassyhobbits]

I feel like Merry Christmas motherfuckers is a very Aelin appropriate Christmas prompt. Do with it what you will :)

it is quite an aelin thing to say... so i worked it into an elorcan fic. here’s the first of the xmas fics! as of rn, i have about 2 others planned. enjoy some fluff!!

~~~

Lorcan Salvaterre was a terrible gift-giver.

It wasn’t something he would ever try to deny, nor that he was particularly ashamed of. It was simply a fact. He wasn’t good at giving gifts.

The reason was likely that he didn’t care enough to really put much thought into it. He did cherish his friends, and they knew that. So Lorcan had never seen the reasoning behind getting them fancy gifts anyway.

Not that any of his friends held his terrible skills against him. They accepted the packs of socks, gift cards to coffee places, and variety bags of chips without complaint. Lorcan normally did all his Christmas shopping in one day. Without leaving the drugstore.

No. It wasn’t until last year that Lorcan had actually worried about his gift-giving abilities. Last year had been his first Christmas with his girlfriend, Elide. He already thought she was way too good for him, and she totally was, not that Elide would ever agree with him. Lorcan had wanted to give her something to reflect what an amazing woman she was and how much he had cared about her.

He had thought about what to get her for months, debating between jewelry and clothes and bags, all which he knew Elide did have a fine taste for. But, after much contemplation, he had gotten her tickets to see her favorite band in concert. Elide had loved it, and Lorcan loved the memories he got to make with her that night: seeing that wide smile on her face, watching her dance and sing and jump along to the beat of the drums, how she had kissed him through the night. It was the best gift he had ever given.

Now, this year, the second year he was spending with Elide, he was nervous for a different reason.

He had purchased her gift months ago, had known what he had wanted to get for her for even longer. He had spent the past few months hiding it and rehiding it, paranoid that his extremely smart, terribly observant girlfriend would find it somehow.

But tonight, Lorcan had the gift tucked safely away in his pocket. The little, velvet ring box felt so much heavier than it actually was.

He was going to propose tonight.

Lorcan had been hyping himself all day, pretending that everything was casual as he helped Elide prepare their apartment for the party they were hosting this evening. It was Christmas Eve, and their friends were all heading over for dinner and gift-giving.

Elide was in the kitchen, going around and lighting a few candles. She looked lovely tonight, dark hair loose and gleaming, a thick sweater hanging from her shoulders, nails painted a deep red.

Lorcan twisted the ring box between his fingers, hidden in his pocket. His heart was a pounding drum within his ears, practically drowning out the sounds of the cherry holiday music Elide had playing over the speakers. He knew their guests would be there any minute, but he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Elide, love?” he called as she finished lighting the last candle.

“Yes?” she replied, striding towards him and kissing his cheek. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. It’s just… you know how much you mean to me, right?”

Elide’s brows furrowed slightly, but her smile didn’t falter. “Of course, Lor. Just as much as you mean to me.”

Lorcan’s heart clenched in his chest. He truly loved this woman.

“Elide…” he continued softly, reaching out and taking both of her hands within his own. “I love you more than anything I’ve ever loved in my life. You mean the absolute world to me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“Nothing?” Elide said with a playful smile. “And if I asked for all the stars in the sky?”

“Then I would go up there myself and get them for you. As well as the moon, for good measure.”

She laughed. It was a beautiful sound.

“Elide Lochan…” Lorcan whispered, releasing one of her hands and reaching into his pocket. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend the rest of my life with you… so, I have to ask-”

The question that rested on the tip of his tongue never got the chance to be uttered. The front door slammed open suddenly, Aelin Galathynius standing in the threshold, a bottle of wine in one hand, a neatly wrapped gift in the other, and an infuriatingly wide smile on her face, completely oblivious as to what she had just interrupted.

“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!” she shouted, strolling into their apartment. Rowan was right behind her, Aedion, Lysandra, and Fenrys following.

Elide made to turn and greet their guests, but Lorcan held firmly to her hand.

“No,” he said, grinding his jaw and shaking his head. “This isn’t going to wait and you-” he pointed to Aelin, “can shut the fuck up for two minutes.”

In true Aelin fashion, her eyes darkened dangerously and it appeared as if she was going to start arguing. Or cursing. But, Rowan, who knew Lorcan best, placed a steadying hand on her arm. They had one of their stupid no words needed conversations, and Lorcan saw Aelin relent. That was all he needed to see before he grabbed the box in his pocket and dropped to one knee.

He ignored the gasps from their guests, only having eyes for the woman in front of him. Elide’s dark eyes grew wide, hand covering her mouth in surprise. Lorcan had never felt more vulnerable, more nervous, than he had in that moment.

“Elide, I love you. I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with you… if you’ll have me.” He swallowed hard once before sucking down one more bracing breath. “Elide… will you marry me?”

It was then that he saw the tears begin to well in Elide’s eyes. Her hands shook slightly as she lowered them from her face, revealing a wide smile. She nodded wordlessly once before she spoke.

“Yes,” she rasped, voice quivering with emotion. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you, Lorcan.”

She held out her left hand towards him, and Lorcan didn’t hesitate before sliding the ring into place. He rose to his feet, taking Elide’s face between his palms and kissing her soundly. Their friends cheered and congratulated them, and although Lorcan didn’t want to truly stop kissing Elide, he'd rather do it when they didn’t have an audience. So, they eventually parted. Their friends came around them with hugs and congratulations, the girls wanting to see Elide’s ring and the men patting Lorcan on the back.

The rest of the evening was wonderful. They ate and drank and laughed, everyone thoroughly enjoying themselves. They moved to the livingroom to do the Secret Santa exchange, Elide sitting snug at Lorcan’s side. When it was his turn to give his gift, he reached into the drawer by the couch and pulled out the unwrapped stick of Old Spice deodorant, tossing it to Aedion, who actually seemed to enjoy the scent.

Eventually, the evening ended and their guests left with rosy cheeks and sleepy smiles. They all wished each other a merry Christmas one more time before they departed, leaving Elide and Lorcan alone once more. His girlfriend, or rather, fiancé, didn’t wait long before draping her arms over his shoulders and pressing herself firmly against him.

“Do you like your gift?” Lorcan asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It took me months to pick out the ring.”

Elide lifted her finger, examining the diamond. “The ring is beautiful, yes, and I love it but… the ring isn’t the gift. The gift is getting to spend the rest of my life with you. As your wife.”

Lorcan didn’t think it was possible to love her anymore but in that moment, he fell a little deeper. He kissed her again, slowly, sweetly, holding her close. He parted, only to tuck her closer to his chest, pressing his lips against the top of her head before whispering into her hair, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

[suituuup]

The Bachelorette

For a fic x art trade with @thehorriblyslowmurderer. Thank you, I hope you like it :D

rated: T

Word count: 2,5k

ao3 link

*

“Holy shit, it’s freezing!” Beca hisses as she steps out of the car, making a dash in the snow for the front door of the cabin the Bellas will be staying at for the next three nights. 

She punches in the code given by the owner via email and pushes the door open just as Chloe makes it to the top of the steps, following her fiancée inside. 

“Oh wow,” she breathes, taking in the huge space that’s a perfect mix of authentic and modern, with a jaw-dropping view of the range of mountains in the distance through the large bay window in the living room. 

The perks of having a famous girlfriend; they didn’t have to pay for anything, Beca having made a deal with the owners to promote the place on her Instagram while they stayed there for their bachelorette weekend. 

A fire is already crackling in the wood-burner and a welcome basket with goodies sits on the kitchen island. Chloe walks over, plucking the note. 

“Dear Beca and Chloe. We hope you and your friends have the best time at our cabin,” she reads outloud before taking a look at what’s inside: a couple bottles of wine, cheese, chocolate and fruits. “That’s so sweet of them.” 

Beca hums, sliding her arms around Chloe’s waist from behind and hooking her chin over her shoulder. She nips at Chloe’s earlobe. “How much time do you think we have until the others get here?” 

“We’re here, pitches!” Amy’s voice interrupts Chloe’s lusty thoughts before she can reply.

She giggles at Beca’s groan, patting her forearm and stepping out of her embrace to greet their friends. Everyone’s been so busy this year, their last reunion dating back to last New Years Eve. “Hey guys!” 

“We brought booze!” Stacie exclaims, holding up two bottles of tequila. “I’ve got like, a bunch more in the trunk.” 

“Let’s pimp this place up, ladies,” Aubrey instructs, carrying a box containing what looks like rainbow themed-decorations. 

“Oh jeez,” Beca mutters as once everyone greeted everyone, the Bellas move about the place to prep dinner and whatever else they have planned for herself and Chloe. “Should we be scared?” She mumbles to her fiancée. 

“Trust me, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Stacie says as she walks past them, winking. 

Yeah. They should definitely be scared. 

The first night turns out to be pretty low key, Jessica, Ashley and Aubrey whipping up an amazing dinner for all of them. They drink wine and play a drunken game of Twister and Cards Against Humanity, turning in rather early as they plan on hitting the slopes the morning after. 

“Today was so much fun,” Chloe gushes as she swipes through her photos once they’ve made it back to the cabin after their day spent skiing. “I even caught your fall on film.” 

Beca grumbles, trying to get her cold fingers to work down her jacket zipper. “You better not post that on social media, Beale.” 

“How’s your ass?” Chloe smirks, locking her phone and tossing it on the bed. 

“Bruised.” 

“Poor baby,” Chloe sighs, pushing to her feet and sliding up behind Beca. She peppers her jaw with soft kisses and nuzzles her cheek. “Come shower with me?” 

Beca seems to fight off a shiver, not one triggered by the cold. “Be there in a sec.” 

Walking into their fancy ensuite bathroom, Chloe turns on the spray in the Italian shower and strips the remaining layers on her body before stepping under the hot water. Slender arms loop around her waist less than a minute later, Beca’s warm body pressing against hers. 

“You think you can be quiet?” Is murmured against her ear as one of Beca’s hands slides downwards. 

Chloe bites back a moan, turning around in Beca’s arms and stepping back until her back hits the stone wall behind her. She watches with darkened eyes as Beca lowers herself to the tile floor and hooks one leg over her shoulder, Chloe’s eyes sliding shut at that first lick. 

When they eventually come out of the shower a while later dressed in matching robes, they find Bride-to-be shirts folded on their bed, along with a sticker stuck to one of them. 

quit boning and meet us downstairs! the party’s awaitin’

The back of the shirt sports selfie of them that they must have taken from Chloe’s instagram. 

“This is so cheesy,” Beca grumbles as she shrugs it on, but Chloe knows she secretly loves it. 

“There they are!” Stacie shouts when they make it downstairs fifteen minutes later. 

Music is pumping through Beca’s expensive wireless speaker and the coffee table is covered in various liquor bottles, snacks and a handful of pizza boxes.

“Have a seat, ladies,” Amy motions to the two chairs facing the couch with a flourish of her hand, bowing her head. 

Chloe and Beca sit down, and Jessica and Ashely set a rainbow tiara on their heads and sling a bride-to-be sash across their chests. 

“We had each of you fill out a bachelorette quiz a week ago, and you’ll have to guess the other’s answers. If you get it wrong, you have to take a shot,” Aubrey explains, motioning towards the row of shots set on the coffee table. 

“And if we get it right?” Chloe questions, cocking an eyebrow. 

She’s gonna crush this game. 

“You get to pick a present out of the gift bag.” She nods to the large tote bag sat between their chairs. “Any questions?” 

Both shake their heads as Aubrey plops down on the couch between Emily and CR. “Chloe, what is Beca’s favorite feature about you?” 

“That’s easy,” Chloe beams, glancing at her fiancée with heart-eyes.  “My eyes.” 

Beca rolls hers as Chloe leans in to kiss her cheek before reaching into the bag. She wraps her hand around a bottle and pulls it out, reading its label. “Ooooh, coconut massage oil.” 

“Boring. Alright, next question,” Stacey says, plucking the sheet from Aubrey’s hands and ignoring Aubrey’s objection. “What could Chloe eat every day?” 

Beca smirks, and without a beat of hesitation, replies, “Me.” 

Emily flushes hard, Stacie smirks devilishly, while Aubrey makes a face. The rest of the girls hoot and whistle, and the tips of Beca’s ears redden. 

“I knew you’d put something dirty on a bachelorette quizz,” Beca murmurs into Chloe’s ear a beat later as she leans across the short distance between them. “Otherwise I would have said pizza.” 

Chloe grins, leaning in to peck her lips. “Correct.” 

Beca fishes a gift out of the bag and unfolds the clothing item. Her cheeks turn a shade darker. “Wow, that’s… I have no words.” 

The pair of hot pink panties read: You may now bang the bride. 

“I love them!” Chloe says, snatching them from her fiancée’s hand. “I’ll keep ‘em.” 

“Chloe, what was Beca’s first impression of you?” 

“She thought that I was crazy,” Chloe replies. She shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “I did break into her shower.” 

“The word we were looking for was intense,” Stacie corrects with a tut. “Take a shot.” 

“Oh come on, she’s just being polite because I’m her fiancée!” Chloe argues with a laugh. 

“Take a shot, ginger!” Amy shouts. 

With a grumble, Chloe plucks the shot glass in front of her off the table and knocks it back, grimacing at the burn as it slides down her throat. 

Jessica is the one to ask the next question. “Beca, what was Chloe’s first car?” 

“Seriously!?” Beca asks. “How am I supposed to know that?” 

“You do!” Chloe points out, a shit-eating grin spreading across her features. 

“Really?” Beca mumbles and reaches out to take her first shot. 

“My old Jeep! We had sex in it,” Chloe blurts out, giggled as Beca chokes a little on the liquid. “And broke the front seat.”

“TMI,” Aubrey winces, her nose scrunching up before she takes a sip from her red solo cup. 

“Chloe, what job did Beca want to do as a kid?” Emily asks. 

Chloe’s eyes light up. “Oooh, she wanted to be a detective!” 

Beca chuckles. “I was obsessed with Scooby-Doo as a kid.” 

“Aw, you found your real life Daphne!” Ashley gushes while Beca rolls her eyes. 

She bends to pick something from the bag, pulling out a pair of padded handcuffs. 

“Oh, nice! Ours isn’t padded,” Chloe comments, as she takes them from her fiancée. She leans in to whisper something into Beca’s ear. “I know you like it when it hurts, but I don’t like seeing you all bruised up.” 

“Beca, your submissive is showing,” Stacie states when Beca blushes from Chloe’s comment, plucking the sheet from Emily’s hold. 

“Beca, what’s Chloe’s biggest accomplishment?” 

“Easy. She has two: winning the Worlds and getting into vet school.” 

“Nice, babe,” Chloe praises, holding her hand up for a high-five. 

By the time they’re finished with the questions, Chloe is definitely buzzed (she had like three shots out of fifteen questions, which isn’t too bad in her opinion), and they’ve added a few gifts to their pile, a variety of sweet and kinky: matching Mrs and Mrs mugs, a bottle of lube, two sets of gorgeous satin pajamas, a spa treatment for two at Chloe’s favorite establishment in NYC, and a strapless strap-on (the best in the market, according to Stacie). 

“Now we believe Beca has something planned for Chloe,” Aubrey says as she stands, taking Beca’s phone from Beca’s hand. 

Chloe’s head whips to the left towards Beca, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “You do?” 

“Mhm,” Beca hums while four of the girls move the coffee table to make space. She brushes a too short kiss to Chloe’s lips, pulling away before Chloe’s ready to end it, and casts her a wink as she steps backwards. “Go sit in that armchair.” 

The opening notes of Beyoncé’s Dance For You drift through the speakers, Chloe’s jaw dropping when she realizes Beca is about to dance for her in front of their friends. 

“Oh my gosh,” Chloe breathes out with a laugh, her body temperature cranking up a notch as she gets comfortable. 

Beca’s hips start to swivel to the beat of the song, hands leaving her hips to slowly hike up her sides. Her fingers tangle into her brunette hair as she twists to stand sideways and slowly shimmies lower. One hand leaving her hair, Beca traces her bottom lip with her pointer finger and bites down onto the tip before she straightens, arching her back so her ass sticks out as she rises from her crouched position. She adds a hair flip to the mix before slowly strutting towards Chloe, perfectly on cue with the beat, all the while keeping her gaze locked with Chloe’s.

“Work it, girl!” Stacie shouts as Beca stands in front of Chloe, bending down so that they share the same breath. 

A chill runs down Chloe’s spine as she resists closing the distance between them, knowing from the wickedness flashing in Beca’s eyes that she’s bound to pull away before their lips can touch.  

Beca spins around, her hips matching the chorus as she bends at the knees with her legs spread and grinds it low for a few beats. Her perfect ass brushes against Chloe’s body on her way back up, and it takes everything in Chloe not to grab and squeeze it. 

The volume rises around them as the girls cheer and hoot, but Chloe can only focus on Beca and how sexy she is as she turns back to face her, hands running through her own hair then drifting down the curve of her neck, over her breasts and stomach. 

“It’s called a lap dance for a reason, shortstack,” Amy calls out as the song flawlessly transitions to Drunk In Love, the perfect arrangement no doubt one of Beca’s works.

Chloe’s mouth dries up as Beca sets both hands on Chloe’s knees and spreads them apart. 

“No touching,” Beca husks lowly, nipping at the shell of her ear and eliciting a quiet moan from Chloe. She turns around and her hips start to move in a slow, sensual dance; swerving, popping, grinding and occasionally rubbing against Chloe’s crotch. 

Spinning back around, she braces a hand by Chloe’s head and sets her right knee in the space between Chloe’s left thigh and the arm of the chair, rolling her body towards Chloe once. She straddles her lap next, her lips parted to accommodate her heavier breathing as she stares down at Chloe. 

Chloe’s fingers dig into the leather of the arm rest to keep her hands from touching Beca as her hips gyrate in lazy circles in her lap. When the song comes to an end, Beca cups her cheek, pulling her into a deep, languid kiss which Chloe eagerly returns, finally giving in to the burning desire and palming her ass, giving both cheeks a firm squeeze. 

“Alright, alright! We get the message,” Aubrey’s voice cuts through their lustful lip lock. 

“That was so freaking hot,” Chloe breathes across Beca’s lips, nipping at the bottom one before backing away. “I need the rest of that performance later.”

Beca wets her lips, smirking. “Deal.”

Games less centered around the brides-to-be follow as they pass around a joint of weed and eat pizza while sprawled out on the various couches in the living room. 

It’s past three am by the time they head upstairs, and Chloe can tell by the expression on Beca’s face that she’s high. Chloe only took one hit and feels fine, if not still a little drunk from the shots she downed at the start of the party. 

“You okay?” She asks, catching Beca staring at her with a look as she pulls her sleeping shirt over her head. 

Beca nods. “I’m just… we’ll be married in less than a month.” She seems to ponder on her words for a few seconds. “Married. That’s like�� big.” 

Chloe raises an eyebrow and steps closer, lowering herself on Beca’s lap as she sits at the foot of the bed. “Are you freaking out?” 

“Weirdly, no,” Beca replies as her arms loop around Chloe’s waist. “I actually can’t wait. For our wedding, our honeymoon, our kids…”

“Our kids, huh?” Chloe questions in amusement. She twirls a brunette lock around her pointer finger. “How many kids are we talking?” 

“Mmm, at least two. I didn’t like being an only child and you loved growing up with siblings so I want that for our children, too.” 

Chloe’s smile is so big, it almost hurts. “Sounds like a good plan.” She brushes a kiss to the apple of Beca’s cheek. “You know what else sounds like a good plan? You giving me the rest of that performance. Preferably with less clothes on.” 

Beca’s eyes darken at that, her lips curving into a smirk. “Yes, ma’am.” 

[obx-saltlife]

French Inhale

summary: you and jj share an intimate moment (and then some) after a particularly instense smoking sesh.

warnings: smoking (weed and a lot), smut, underage drinking and smoking, cursing. I guess it’s a friends to lovers kind of thing, it’s implied anyway.

2.1K, JJ x reader (contains smut)

“That was hot,” JJ Maybank laughed through his words.

His once bright eyes were now hooded and carried that sort of trademark redness you’ve come to know very well. Everyone in the makeshift circle waited patiently as you took another drag from the blunt in front of you. You kept the smoke in your cheeks for a brief second. Your mouth opened at one corner slightly; the thick, white, smoke making its way out slowly through the small opening. Your eyes closed and you inhaled through your nose, pulling off the perfect French Inhale once again. It’d been a while since you’d sat down with the rest of the Pogues to enjoy a blunt or two but it seemed like the perfect time to do it again. Summer was just beginning and if the conversations before this little get-together were anything to go by, you were seriously considering sticking to John B’s idea of having a “good time, all the time”.

The party at The Boneyard had long since thinned out, with most of the Kooks gone on to find something else; another party, probably and the Tourons too drunk to do much of anything. You and the Pogues made your way back to The Chateau, trying to burn off some more of the party energy still coursing through your veins. That’s how you ended up in the makeshift circle in the first place. It’d definitely been a while since you’d let completely loose and tonight felt like as good a night as any. Joining Kie, John B, Sarah, JJ and Pope as they passed the blunt around just felt like second nature.

The blunt made its way around the circle once more. You took a long drag this time, inhaling it deep in your lungs as you closed your eyes once again. You passed it to your left as you felt the smoke swirling around in your chest and leeching to your bloodstream. Rocking your head back, with a lazy laugh, you exhaled, blowing a large cloud of smoke into the night.

When you looked back around the people gathered in front of you, John B and Sarah were mouth to mouth; the smoke passing between them in an intimate exchange. You couldn’t look away, the mix of the intimate display in front of you and the beginning of the drug in your system made you tingle all over.

You felt eyes on you, a little across the way. It felt different than the regular paranoia that usually accompanied your smoking adventures. Across the circle, JJ’s eyes locked with yours. He didn’t dare look away, almost proud that he had been caught staring. A small smirk spread on his lips. He was passed the blunt once more and he took it expertly between his fingers, his blue eyes still locked on yours. He looked to the ground as he inhaled, the cherry burning bright at the end of the dwindling stick in his hand. You were mesmerized, honestly, maybe you’d blame it on the THC taking over but the yearning for a lazy fuck increased deep in the pit of your stomach.

You licked your lips, taken over almost instantly by the estranged feeling of cottonmouth that you hadn’t missed at all. You got up, finding your footing in between some strewn branches and headed towards the porch to try to find a semblance of a drink in the forgotten cooler. You could hear the group behind you calling you back but your reflexes were dull and you didn’t bother turning around.

“JJ, come back!” Kie’s voice sounded hazy but easy to make out.

“Yeah dude, don’t hog the spliff” John B’s voice whined shortly after.

You couldn’t really find the cooler you were so sure had been on the porch hours prior as you stumbled up the steps and into the dimly lit house. Closing the door to the empty fridge, you pressed your back against it and relished in the cooling temperature in comparison to the rest of your body. You shut your eyes for a second before feeling someone’s presence in front of you.

Opening one eye lazily, you smiled as JJ stood in front of you. His lips stuck in a smirk after he took another drag off the blunt, blowing it out to the side. His free hand caught your chin, pulling your jaw up and holding the blunt to your lips. His eyes focused intently as you took a drag, his lips almost instantly pulling into a lopsided, hazy smile.

When you were done, JJ brought it back to his own lips. The cherry still burning brightly, his chest rising. His index finger propped your chin before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, wasting no time before coaxing them open. The smoke moved from his mouth to yours and you breathed in deeply, exchanging it between your bodies. Something about the exchange felt incredibly intimate. More intimate than sex.

JJ pulled back, a proud smile stuck on his lips as you casually exhaled. You smiled nervously in return, unsure of the current of unresolved sexual tension between you.

Truth is, you and JJ had been pushing and pulling at each other for a while now. Kiara’s dumb ‘no Pogue on Pogue macking’ rule going completely ignored. Neither you nor JJ were relationship-types but you did enjoy having a good time. And you always had a good time, together. This time though, it felt different. Maybe the THC was working its magic deep in your brain. Bringing things you had forgotten were buried deep inside.

Like that time you thought you were actually in love with JJ. You had compartmentalized that easily -- you were kids, naïve and without a care in the world. Did you even really know what love was? Life is more complicated than that, people change and grow up and realize life isn’t that easy. Maybe instead of the THC making you realize your long lost feelings for JJ, it was just making you go deep inside your head.

You shook your thoughts out of the funk and looked back into JJ’s blue eyes.

“Come to my room?” JJ asked quietly, his fingers playing with yours at your side. You nodded silently, his hand grasping yours as he led you through the narrow hallway and into John B’s guest room (or JJ’s room really, since he was there so much). He finished the blunt on his own as you walked, exhaling expertly through his nose without even a flinch.

JJ’s pace slowed as you made your way inside and he followed. He closed the door and you looked around, appreciating the trinkets strewn around and things littering the walls. It all seemed to clash but fit together somehow at the same time. You loved how every corner of this room seemed to describe JJ to a tee. It had always been that way.

No words were exchanged and none were really needed as JJ’s hands did all the talking. He tugged at the hem of your shirt as his lips dipped to the corner of your jaw. You pulled a fistful of his shirt into your hand, pulling him close. Every touch was gradually sinking in and registering in your mind.

You didn’t know how he knew but he was so in tune with your need to be touched; how much you needed to be touched and he seemed more than ready to ease every aching want you had.

JJ moved backwards, pulling you along with him as he sank to sit on the bed. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs on either side of him as your lips slowly played together. There was no rush, just ease and a very casual flow. A little different than times before; casual corners and rushed motions were more you and JJ’s thing. You could feel JJ’s hands covering almost the entirety of your back, feeling the curves of your spine. JJ’s fingers traced lightly over the top, skimming the ties on your bikini from stop your cut off tank top, sending chills across your skin and up your neck into your scalp, making you tingle everywhere.

Finally, in one swift move, he slipped the shirt over your head, the chilly air in the room, riddling your skin with goosebumps. JJ paid no mind, peeling off his already mostly unbuttoned shirt he had been wearing and connecting your lips again. He shifted his weight to the side, his hands leaving your body briefly, reaching into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulling out a pack of cigarettes and his Zippo lighter.

You sat patiently in his lap as he pulled another carefully rolled joint from the pack, tossing the box aside. JJ held up his hand to block the nonexistent wind. The aroma filled the space around you, something that was lacking before since you had been smoking outside. The smoke was warm and as intoxicating as ever. The joint hung loosely from his lips as he pulled a long drag from it, his hands working on the clasp of your shorts.

You stood from his lap, releasing yourself from the denim confines of your shorts. JJ did the same, ditching his cargo shorts and nonchalantly ashing on the floor as he did so. He moved to the center of the bed, lying back on the pillows and finding his forgotten cellphone amongst the sea of blankets on top. He hit a few buttons, tossing it on the table beside the bed before the soft sounds of Slightly Stoopid began to play again, waking your senses. You crawled across the bed, placing your legs on either side of his hips and taking the joint from his hands before taking a long drag.

Your eyes shut as the smoke made its way through your lungs and back out slowly. With his hands free, JJ took the time to slide his boxers off. You could hear the foil packet in his hands before it crinkled as he rolled it over himself with an impatient sigh. Sliding your underwear aside, the tip of his length firmly brushed over your center. It was clear how hard he was but you had no idea what to expect as JJ slowly slid himself into you, seemingly never stopping, moving ever so slowly.

You lowered yourself onto him completely, rocking back up and taking on the burden of the movement. He took the joint back from you and you could hear the quiet burning as he inhaled from it as the music lulled and paused briefly. You knew he was watching you as you moved; your head laid back and your hair falling across your shoulders and over your back. You relished in his masculinity, the contours of his roughly sculpted muscles. It all felt so natural, so casual, so lazy, yet you didn’t want (or need) anything more from him. You didn’t need sweet nothings whispered in your ear, or a loving touch, at least not right at that moment. It was nothing more than a stoned fuck and it felt sweet in all the right ways.

It felt like an eternity and as you slowly continued to raise and lower yourself, you could feel him exhale as the air moved across your skin, chilling your nerves. You were so relaxed; you could have easily fallen asleep had it not been for the dull throbbing that was now escalating in your core. JJ’s hands landed on your hips, idly moving you faster. You looked down to him, the smoke swirling from the joint he held softly between his lips.

His brows furrowed together, the muscles in his jaw flexing as his hips began to move to meet yours. It was growing tense, eager. You let out a loud moan, your hands pressing to his chest to stabilize yourself as JJ began to pound out his desire, desperate for relief. In one fluid motion, he rose from the pillows and took you by the waist, rolling you over so that he was on top. In between your thighs, JJ’s pace never slowed.

Your back arched and your legs wrapped tightly around JJ’s waist. Your hands gripped tightly at the bed sheets as his thrusts sent you over the edge, your muscles clenching around him as he crashed into his own orgasm. The smoke and the hormones mixed in your cloudy minds to leave you in an erotic state of bliss.

JJ collapsed on the bed besides her, his chest heaving as he tossed the roach onto an ashtray on the bedside table. You lay silently for a moment before you breathing settled and you moved to collect your discarded clothes.

It hit you then that almost no words had been exchanged between them since the left the kitchen. And it was definitely rare but you didn’t really have a problem with it. This had been more than what you wanted and much better too.

JJ’s gruff voice broke the still air.

“C’mon, babe. Stay?”