#AND WITH THAT I CLOSE OUT FICTOBER

[lovebugism]

ok reader x eddie having a casual conversation about sex, talking about what they're both into, leading to some smut??? just hearing what eddie's into sounds so hottttt (i imagine its filthy,, sorry)

ty for requesting! hope you like it!! — a failed date with eddie leads to a night in and several confessions (established relationship, mostly fluff, talks of sex but no actual smut 18+, 1.6k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie Munson is a hopeless romantic.

Not because he loves like it’s breathing (though some would argue otherwise), but because his attempts to be affectionate with you are complete and utter failures.

He had a whole romantic day planned. A late lunch, a quick walk, and then sunset at the park. Honestly, it probably would’ve been a pretty metal date if it was any day other than this one — the biggest flood of the whole goddamn year.

You got to the diner just fine but had to rush back to the trailer in the rain since he didn’t have his van. Thankfully, it waited to outright pour until he got you home. Now, his leather jacket — which you’d used as a makeshift umbrella — hangs beside the opened window to dry.

The orange autumn breeze rolls over your bare bodies like silk (because, of course, an innocent shower after getting drenched in the rain couldn’t not end in getting dirty again).

“Was all this just a ploy to get me into bed?” you tease, tracing the freckles on his back with the tip of your finger. “’Cause you coulda just asked, you know? I would’ve said yes.”

Lying flat on his stomach, Eddie laughs into his folded-up arms. His deep brown hair brushes his pale shoulders when he turns to look at you. His smile is swollen and rosy and crooked.

“You got me, princess. Making my girlfriend walk in disgusting weather was all a part of my evil plan.”

“I wouldn’t say it was evil.”

“No?”

“Sinful, maybe. Sexy, even,” you joke with a lopsided grin. “But no, not evil.”

“Is that so?” he lilts as he rises on his elbow to prop his cheek on his fist.

You shake your head and roll onto your back. Your eyes flit to the spotted ceiling. A smirk blossoms on your lips. “I feel like evil would imply that it was hurtful in some way. And that thing you did in the shower felt way too good to be evil.”

“What thing?” the boy wonders with pinched-together brows.

You shoot him a look. “You know…” you hum vaguely, expectantly.

“No. I don’t, actually,” Eddie laughs, mostly at himself. “I’m kinda dumb, in case you forgot.”

“You’re not dumb, Eds.”

“Stop being sweet. You’re deflecting.”

You concede with a small huff. “That… That thing. With your mouth. When you pressed me against the wall and— please, don’t make me describe it, Eddie,” you ramble, then cut yourself off to whine.

He meets your grimace with a boyish grin. “I don’t know. I kinda like hearing you talk about it.”

“I’ll die,” you deadpan.

“You’re so dramatic.”

His words are harsh, but his pink smile is kind. He kisses you with it after — a smacking peck to the corner of your mouth that migrates rather quickly. He sprinkles his lips along your jaw and chin and neck. 

That’s where he lingers. 

Eddie finds your pulse point and goes a half-inch higher, just like he did while he was fucking you against the shower wall. You nearly came the first time he kissed you there. 

He sucks at the delicate skin until he leaves another faint mark. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your newfound sweet spot makes your toes curl. It has you moaning out loud before you mean to.

His lips audibly smack when he pulls away.

“That thing?” he wonders, smiling down at you like he already knows the answer.

Your thighs clench together. Your bones are made of mush. “That thing,” you repeat in the affirmative.

“Well, if we’re sharing secrets…” Eddie singsongs, then leans in all close like he’s about to spill the latest gossip. His fingers spread out along your bare waist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really liked it when you got all mean.”

You hadn’t thought much of it, then — when Eddie edged you on the counter with his fingers and laughed when you writhed. 

You didn’t even let him make it up to you after, just sucked him off and told him he wasn’t allowed to touch you. “Don’t cum ’til I tell you to, understand?” you’d said. “Or I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re gonna watch.”

He was a good boy for you, though, and you let him fuck you in the shower.

Your nose scrunches in muted embarrassment. “I wasn’t being that mean, was I?”

“No. I mean, you could certainly get meaner…” Eddie assures with a shake of his head, then grins as his fingers crawl up your ribcage. You fight back a shiver. “Which I think could be preferable from time to time.”

“So, you want me to be more… dominant?”

He shrugs a pale, freckled shoulder. “Yeah. Sometimes. I like watching you get all dumb for me, don’t get me wrong, but every time you get a little mean, I almost cum in my pants.”

The blatant confession makes you go slightly stupid. You just nod at him, lazy and unblinking. “Yeah. I can do that. You know, if that’s what you want.”

“I do want,” Eddie hums, matching your sloppy head shake. His nicotine-coated breath fans across your cheek. “Very, very much.”

“But not all the time, though, right?”

“No. Not all the time. Just… sometimes— when the moment’s right or whatever.”

“Sure…”

Eddie’s grin broadens when you trail off. A faraway look glazes over your eye. His brows raise expectantly. “What’s that look for?”

You blink rapidly as you descend from the clouds. Shaking your head, you dismiss him. “Nothing. Nothing— I just… I did kinda like not letting you come right away.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Eddie concurs, suddenly breathless.

Your gaze flits to his, mousy and twinkling. Your hands fidget above the covers. “And I kinda wanna try letting you cum and maybe… not stopping…”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens to respond, but he forgets how to speak. He barely remembers to breathe.

“Is that… Is that weird?” you ask, forcing a laugh at his unusual silence.

“No!” he blurts, sounding much louder in the honeyed quiet of his bedroom. “No, that’s… That’s really hot, actually. Like, really hot.”

He zones out just like you had. The imagery of it all makes his stomach whirl. He’s done it to you a number of times — brought you to the edge and kept on pushing you over until you pushed him away. But he’d never thought about ever doing it to himself till now. 

Actually, there’s quite a lot of things he’s done to you that he might enjoy himself if he thinks about it.

The thought alone opens a world of possibility in his wild, wild head.

“Can I tell you about something I was thinking about the other day?” he wonders suddenly.

Though slightly startled by the blurted question, you nod. “Of course.”

His gaze flits away from yours. His hand fidgets at your waist, fingers softly scratching at your burning skin. “You know my handcuffs? The ones I clip on my jeans sometimes?”

Again, you nod.

“Well, I— I have the keys, you know? So it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we— you know— if we used them…”

“On me?” you press, brows pinched in distant concern.

Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No. I know you don’t like that.”

“So… on you?”

“Yeah. Maybe. If you want,” the boy mumbles, suddenly shy in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times — including earlier, when he was begging to cum in your mouth. “I just think it could be cool, you know? Like, you could tie me up and just… use me. If you want,” he repeats.

“Use you?” you repeat with a soft laugh.

He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t— I don’t really care about getting off as much as I care about you getting off, you know? I just… wanna take care of you. Want you to take what you want.”

You open your mouth to respond only to find that all words have lost meaning. Your brain is a jumbled mess of alphabet soup. So you just nod, dumb at the very thought.

Eddie’s hand rises from the covers. His palm settles warm at your jaw. His fingers smell faintly of sex as his calloused thumb smooths across your chapped lips. “You could, like, rub yourself on my cock. Get yourself off on top of me,” he murmurs lowly to you, a quiet and crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Wouldn’t that be metal?”

“Yeah…” you answer with a sigh, getting lost in the daydream right along with him. “Wouldn’t put you inside me at first, either. Not until you’re begging for it.”

His smile widens. “Exactly.”

“Then I’ll ride you until you make me cum.”

Eddie nods, egging you on. He tucks his face into your neck, if only to conceal how ardently he’s blushing. He hides his pink cheeks between your jaw and shoulder and kisses you where he knows it’ll drive you crazy. 

“Mhmm?” he urges, muffled.

You sigh a faint moan. Your fingers curl in his wild hair. You press your lips to his temple and continue. “And I’ll let you come, too. Eventually… But I won’t stop.”

“Fuck,” he groans into your pulse.

“Not until you’ve filled me up three times—”

“Oh, fuck…”

You tug at his hair with a soft, stern touch you think you could learn to master for him. His lips click faintly when he parts from you. He blinks down at you with glassy chocolate eyes.

“Something like that?” you wonder, feigning innocence with a sweet-sounding lilt.

Eddie nods, sloppy and stupid. He stammers. “Yeah… Yeah. Some—Something like that.”

[thus-spoke-lo]

Birthday Gift // Trafalgar Law x afab!reader // NSFW/18+ Kink: Cosplay/roleplay

A/N: It's Law's birthday--what better day to show him some love? Thank you to @thenotsofantasticlifestory for the concept! CW: afab!reader [no pronouns used]; reader wears a skirt; choking; vaginal fingering; unprotected vaginal intercourse; creampie WC: 2.7k // Fictober Masterlist

“What’s taking you so long in there?”

Law’s voice is muffled by the bathroom door, but you can still detect a hint of irritation threaded through it nonetheless.

“Don’t worry about it!” you shout back, carefully pulling fishnet thigh-highs up your legs, sweat beading at your temples as you concentrate on trying not to rip the delicate honeycombs upon first wear—that would be something you would leave to Law. “Just another minute!”

Law was typically a patient man, especially where you were concerned, but tonight he was slowly becoming unraveled. It was your doing, of course—once you had told him you had a surprise for him, standing on tiptoes before you left your shared quarters to whisper it in his ear as you pressed yourself against his back, hooking your fingers in his belt loops to pull him close, his steely resolve slowly began to melt. He had tried to mask his excitement as they day waned, now keeping his gaze fixed on the coins he was sorting into thick books, but you still caught the hint of a smile quirking up the corners of his mouth, spotted the slight crinkling around his eyes that gave away his barely-suppressed interest. He would deny it if asked, but the accumulation of tells was giving him away—he was eager to learn just what it was you had in store for him.

The swishy skirt that sits on your hips sways as the submarine shudders, and you adjust the pleats, hiking it up just a little higher, exposing the exact right amount of thigh that you intend. With a slow exhale, you add your final touch—a lightweight helmet that you carefully lower down onto your head before studying yourself in the mirror, frowning and pouting, trying to perfect the most stoic and brave look possible. You stifle a laugh at delightfully ridiculous you look, like a comic-book character come to life—precisely as you intended.

“Happy birthday, my love,” you announce as you open the bathroom door, placing your gloved hands on your hips and standing with your legs apart, looking off into corner of his room as though you were gazing into the misty horizon; all that’s missing is a strong breeze to rustle your flowing blue cape and swish the hem of your ridiculously short skirt.

“Oh thanks b—” Law’s jaw hangs open as he turns in his chair to address you, and the coins he holds in his hand drop and scatter on the floor. “You—you’re—”

“Sora, Warrior of the Sea,” you say proudly, puffing out your chest and adjusting your stance, beaming wildly at his reaction. “From the infamous issue where Sora is hit with a gender-swap ray.”

Law clucks his tongue. “Well, I mean technically it was more than one issue for it to be resolved, you know.”

“Law…”

“What?”

You huff a sigh and smile as you cross the room to him, his gaze never leaving you, eyes flitting over every heroically-decorated inch of you. Law stands and lets out a shivering exhale as he approaches you cautiously, almost reverently, long fingers reaching out and running over the smoothness of your helmet, tracing every curve and sharp angle. He delicately fondles the shimmering fabric of your cape, taking handfuls of it and rubbing it between his fingers, touching it to his face to feel the softness of the material, humming at the sensation. It was rare to see this particular look of awe on Law’s face, to see him wrapped up in something this intensely, his eyes taking in every single inch of your carefully crafted costume. His pupils dilate as his palms trail down the stiff material of your sleeves, until his hands reach yours and he grips them tightly, and even through your thick leather gloves you feel how he trembles just slightly, seeming to vibrate with excitement.

“You look—I mean, all of it—i-it’s perfect. And it’s…oh, fuck, you look so sexy.” His eyes glimmer in that way you love, when something catches his interest and holds it tightly and won’t let him go. “It’s exactly like the comic. Every detail.”

You swallow hard, biting your lip. “You really like it?”

“I love it.” He leans down and presses his lips to yours with an impulsive urgency, almost seeming as though he’s restraining himself from something more. “And I love you.”

“I love you too. And I’m glad you like it, it took me forever to make it.”

“Wait…you made this?” A soft dusting of blush begins to cover his cheeks. “You must really love me if you sewed something this complicated.”

“Well, I had a little help,” you demur, hoping the money you slipped to Penguin and Shachi would be enough to keep them quiet about your bespoke birthday gift, at least for a while.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” Law murmurs as he carefully removes your helmet and sets it on his desk, his hands returning to your face to cup your heated cheeks. “I didn’t expect anything.”

“I know.” You turn your head and kiss his palm, placing your gloved hands on top of his. “And that’s why I wanted to do it.”

“You’re too good to me.” He kisses you again, softly sighing against your lips, his thumbs stroking the apples of your cheeks.

“Don’t say that just yet,” you chuckle as he breaks your kiss, “I’m not done.”

You bend over—slowly, deliberately, making sure the hem of your skirt lifts perfectly to expose the underside of your ass cheeks, until you hear Law hiss through his teeth at the sight—and grab a box from under the bed.

“Here.” Your drag your teeth along your lower lip as you watch him tear into the wrapping paper, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I didn’t have time to make more pieces but it’s—”

“A Stealth Black cape.” His look of shock turns to one of something close to delight as the box falls to the floor and he holds up the long, flowing cloak, his eyes fixed on it almost worshipfully. “Shit, this is so cool.”

“Well, put it on,” you finally blurt excitedly. “I have a criminal to capture.”

“Oh, you think you’ll capture me, do you?” he purrs, smooth and low, quickly adapting to his role as he dons his getup. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Then try I shall!” You grin and press your hand to his chest, the feeling of his racing heart under your palm catching you off guard. “S-stop, vile villain!”

“Honey.” A look of utter seriousness washes over his face. “He wouldn’t say that.”

“Law…” You flatten your lips and press them together, blinking at him questioningly.

“What?”

“Nevermind,” you shrug with a grin—this was his birthday after all, a little more accuracy to the source material won’t kill you. “What would he say then?”

“You know what?” he says after a beat, his tone softening for a moment. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Then prepare to be brought to justice!”

“You’re no match for the might of Germa 66, Sora—you will never be able to outwit our scientific might!”

You throw a soft punch at Law’s midsection, then a lazy kick at his thigh as he pretends to double-over in agony and stumble backwards towards his desk. But before you can land another hit, he lunges forward and wraps a strong hand around your wrist, twisting you around as he pulls your arm behind your back and yanks you against him. He wraps his other arm around your waist as you feign a struggle, throwing your head back onto his chest as you grunt and grumble.

“I have you now, Sora,” he growls, his tongue running along the shell of your ear. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“You’ll never be able to hold me, Stealth Black,” you mutter as you softly kick at his shins, your boots barely making contact with his body as you find yourself enjoying the fabricated scuffle more than you expected. A familiar heat begins to spread throughout your partially-restrained body, an ache beginning to build between your thighs as Law groans softly every time you writhe in his grasp. “No one can escape my justice, not even you.”

“Oh, is that so?” He tightens his grip on your waist for a moment, pulling you closer until your ass is flush with his groin; the swell of his arousal presses against you, and a moan creeps up your throat unexpectedly. “We’ll see about that.”

Law’s free hand runs up the front of your body, his pace achingly slow and deliberate, his fingers dancing over the smooth fabric of your costume, lingering on your breasts, circling over your clothed nipples until you squirm. His palm comes to rest on your neck and he keeps it there, stroking your jaw with his thumb as he groans low in your ear. Long, slender fingers wrap around your throat, and he begins to squeeze, applying a gentle, persistent pressure to the sides of your delicate neck, just below your jaw.

“Give in yet, Sora?” he asks as he releases his grip, a shivering breath leaving his lungs at the way you gasp for air, the way you quake so perfectly in his grasp.

“N-never,” you stammer—at least, not as long as it means he’ll be forced to keep tormenting you in the way you love.

He lets out a low chuckle and squeezes tighter this time, pressing at the sides of your neck, keeping his hand positioned just-so to force your head straight. Your free hand grasps at his forearm, digging your fingers into his tattooed flesh as your pulse starts to grow louder in your ears, darkness starting to form at the edges of your vision. But Law knows precisely where the edge is and how far he can let you peer over it before he needs to pull you back, and with a gasp of his own, he releases his hold on you, quickly moving his arm to wrap around your chest and keep you aloft.

“Hmm, you are a tough one, Sora,” he murmurs against your cheek, warm breath spreading across your skin as you pull in lungfuls of air. “I guess I’ll have to use stronger measures.”

With a few quick movements, Law maneuvers you onto the bed, your body landing with a soft thump; he nudges your legs apart and kneels between them, looking you over with a hunger in his eyes that makes your pulse race and your body flood with a needy heat. He trails his hands up the soft leather of your boots, up the plushness of your thighs, fingertips poking and prodding at the holes in your fishnets, snapping the elastic band at the top against your skin until you yelp from the sharp stings.

“You want something from me, don’t you?” he purrs as he undoes the fastens of his cape and lets it fall to the floor. You aren’t sure if he’s asking as the villain or as himself—and the growing need between your thighs doesn’t particularly care which. You chew your lower lip and watch as his tattooed hands push your skirt up over your thighs, up further and further until his lips part and his tongue pokes at the corner of his mouth. “My, my—no panties? You really did come looking for trouble.”

“I suppose I did,” you tease, parting your legs a little more, allowing him to take in the full extent of your arousal. “I really can’t help but be attracted to the bad guy.”

“The bad guy, huh?” Law groans softly under his breath at your glistening wetness and trails his fingers down the downy softness of your mound, down to the apex of your slit, pressing on your tender bundle of nerves, making subtle circles over it until your back arches and you whine with need. “Would the bad guy do this?”

“I-I guess not,” you stammer as he toys with your aching clit, moving his thumb over it with a fierce insistence. He deftly slides his middle and ring fingers into your dripping cunt, driving them into you again and again as you buck your hips against him, fucking yourself on his hand.

Tension coils inside you with every pump of his long fingers, every bit of pressure he applies to your clit, and you writhe with every burning caress. Law grins lasciviously and crooks his fingers upwards to massage that most sensitive spot inside you, forcing the breath from your lungs with every stroke of your walls. Your shaking hands grip the sheets, and that tautness in your core finally snaps; you convulse into a chain of spasms, your breath coming in short, harsh gasps with every throb and every pulse.

“What do you say now, Sora—do you surrender yet?” Law asks as he slows his movements, still relishing the way you flutter and clench around his fingers as your orgasm subsides.

“I-I surrender, Stealth Black,” you manage to utter between harsh, choppy breaths.

“Good.” Law stares down at you for a moment, head cocked, his pupils blown with lust, taking in the sight of your shivering body in the costume you made just for him. “It’s a lot more fun that way.”

He’s insatiable, his actions frantic and almost wild as he strips his shirt off and hastily unzips his jeans, pulling them just far enough down his hips to pull out his pulsing cock, the reddened head already shining and smeared with precum. He guides himself to your cunt, running the tip through your slick folds, before easing himself into you, inch by inch, until you groan at the feeling of fullness when his hips finally meet yours. His thrusts are frenzied, voracious, his every movement filled with pulsing, vibrating need—you’ve awoken something deep within him, an aching need that he needs to fulfill.

“You look so perfect, honey,” he moans into your mouth as he captures your lips in a long, drugging kiss, his tongue making sweeping, swirling motions inside your mouth. “You’re so good to me.”

You wrap your arms around his muscled shoulders and arch into him, tipping your hips to meet each powerful thrust, as his lean hips snap against your body, pushing you against the mattress. His low groans reverberate in your chest, every thrust even more desperate and demanding than the last, chasing after his own release.

“Fuck, fuck you feel so good,” he says in a low whine, nipping at your neck as he rocks into you with a steady, urgent rhythm. “Gonna cum, sweetheart. Gonna cum so hard for you.”

Law’s thrusts become more and more erratic, his hips stilling for only the briefest moment before he groans and shudders, spilling himself into you as he mutters your name again and again in blissful gratitude. He rests on top of you for a moment, kissing down your neck, flicking his tongue over your jaw and nuzzling against your cheek, before he flops down beside you with a contented huff. He pulls you into him, tucking you under his arm and kissing your forehead softly, humming under his breath.

“That was so much fun,” Law manages to utter between sharp inhales.

“Yeah? You liked your birthday gift?”

“I loved it, couldn’t you tell?”

“Oh I could,” you smirk, feeling his cum leaking out of you, stickiness spreading between your thighs. “I still like to hear it, though. Hell, you made it feel like my birthday, too.”

His elongated fingers flit over your upper arm, drawing little patterns in the now-rumpled fabric of your shirt as you lay in satisfied silence, only the sounds of your slowing breaths and the occasional rustle of the tangled sheets mingling in the air.

“You know,” Law utters after a moment, “we are gonna have to work on your dialogue though—I have some back issues of Sora that would probably be the most helpful. We can read them together if you want.”

“Law…”

“What?”

[curiouser--and--curiouser]

"If you don't stop-" | James Wilson x Reader

Fictober 2023 Day 14 - "If you don't stop-"

James Wilson x gender netural!Reader

Warnings: flirting, some sexual references, no use of Y/N, James being a simp

A hospital reception isn’t a most thought-of setting for a flashy poker tournament, but the gathering of hospital staff and supporters alike dressed to the nines in suits and gowns certainly helped create a little slice of Vegas.

You were no exception; your own evening wear clung delightfully to your body as you strolled around the room. You clutched two glasses of champagne as you peered through the sea of faces: Chase was lounged against a table as he attempted to chat up his newest conquest, Foreman was hiding his laugh behind his hand at Chase’s romantic desperation, and Cameron had already walked back into the crowd with exasperation at her colleagues.

But none of them was who you were looking for.

Somewhere among the crowd of happy poker players was your boyfriend, James Wilson. Any opportunity to play poker with House (and raise money for charity, of course) Wilson would take and so you scanned over the green tables until, eventually, you found him.

James’s brow was furrowed more intensely than during one of his consults as he glared down at his cards. And his brow furrowed further has House leaned over with his trademarked childish grin with some devious attempt to put his friend off. A shout from Lisa Cuddy broke the two apart, her impressive stack of chips more than signifying her eagerness to play. They all looked so charming in their bow ties and dress respectively, James the most so: he was alluring in his fitted tuxedo, entirely at home in suave and sophisticated finery. He’d been looking forward to this night for weeks and you couldn’t wait to spend it with him.

You started walking over to the trio as Dr House looked up at you and nudged Wilson in the side. James’s eyes flitted up to you and he was immediately transfixed. His gaze followed you like a moth to the flame as you walked towards him, as smooth as the swaying jazz in the background. James’s eyes ran up and down your body unabashedly with a small boyish smile to himself. If he could linger in every single inch of your body he would, worshiping the sight like a holy man to his only vice. Slowly, he dragged his eyes back to your beaming smile as your rounded the poker table to his side. You reached down to press a gentle kiss to his cheek and as you pulled away, he followed into your warmth. James’s eyes remained closed for a moment, breathing deeply into your scent. As you greeted him, he replied with a high-pitched, almost pained sigh and a whisper.

“I really hate you.”

You were taken aback for a second. You looked down at your boyfriend with an incredulous smile.

“Oh, love you too, babe,” you replied, sarcastically. James’s brain suddenly kicked out of its daze as he reached up to stroke your hip.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” he apologised quickly. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just- you look- you’re absolutely stunning… But I still hate you.” He could be such an enigma sometimes.

“Why? What have I done?”

“You’re being very… distracting,” James’s eyes flicked to your lips for a second. Your head fell back as your let out a laugh.

“You’re usually fine with me being distracting,” you said, faux-innocently, using your height advantage to lean over James as your body pressed into his. Even an untrained eye could see his held breath at the touch of your body against his.

“Yes, I’ve seen you be very distracting through the windows of Wilson’s office,” House teased around the cigar between his lips. Your head whipped around like a flash to meet a wink from House as Wilson coughed and spluttered at his friend.

“What?! I thought the curtains were closed!”

“You did what in Wilson’s office?” Cuddy interrogated with disbelief from across the table as you and your equally-guilty boyfriend blushed a deep crimson.

“Anyway…” you rushed to change the subject from your less-than-professional sex life. But that didn’t have to be the end of your fun. “I got you a drink, James.” You bent forwards to place your second glass of champagne down on the table and unashamedly pressed your chest into James’s face as you leaned in. His eyes closed in a dizzy state of bliss.

“If you don’t stop now-“ James warned, lowly.

“Stop what, baby?” you replied coyly, brushing your fingers through your boyfriend’s coiffed hair just how he liked it.

“Please,” James let out in a whine. Just then, you spotted Cameron waving to you from across the room. Suddenly, you stood up straight, righted your dress and pressed a deep kiss to James’s lips. You ripped a low moan from his chest as you pulled away all too soon.

“Bye, babe. Good luck!” You winked as you quickly ran off in search of your friend, leaving James Wilson knowing this would be a long night.

[captainsophiestark]

Bad Timing

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Bridgerton

Day 25 Prompt: "Do I look like I knew that?"

Summary: When Eloise needs help with a problem, she knows she can count on her brother and his new wife for help.

Word Count: 1,047

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"You know, lazy days like this are by far my favorite," I mused, curling into my husband's side as we laid in bed together. "No galas, no gossip from the Ton. Just the two of us."

"I certainly have to agree," said Benedict, my husband, as he traced patterns on the bare skin of my back. "Although, I do enjoy watching Colin wade through the swarm of Mamas every time we go out, now that he is the only unwed Bridgerton son. At least until Gregory gets a bit older."

"I'd say you were being mean, but he did ditch you and Anthony for quite a while in his travels."

"Yes, he did. So he deserves this."

I laughed, shaking my head a bit at my husband's antics. A moment later, he pulled me tighter to his side, rolling us so I laid completely on top of his chest. I rose up on my elbows to meet his eyes and found him looking at me with a mischevious smile.

"You know, it's just occurred to me," he started. "There are quite a few ways I can think of that our time would be better spent than talking about my brother."

"Oh really?" I asked, grinning and leaning down closer to Benedict. "And what might those ideas be?"

"Well for starters..."

With that, he brought his hand up to the back of my neck and pulled me into a searing kiss. I rested all my weight on him, kissing right back, until a knock at the door jarred us both out of the moment.

Reluctantly, I pulled away, and Benedict let me. We shared a look.

"Maybe whoever it is will go away if we ignore them," he whispered in suggestion. As if he'd willed it into happening, a voice from the other side of the door called out.

"Y/N! If you're in there, please, I need to talk to you."

Eloise. Benedict's little sister, who I'd become close with throughout the course of Benedict courting me. I gave Benedict an apologetic look.

"No," he whined as I rolled off of him, quickly wrapping a robe around myself and heading for the door.

"I have to," I replied. "I can't ignore her. Make yourself decent."

With that, I turned from my husband and went to open the door just wide enough to see Eloise on the other side, and for her to see me.

"Oh, thank goodness!" she cried, moving to push past me and into the room. I let her, just hoping that Benedict had done as I'd said. Eloise and I had done this a few times as we'd gotten closer, and whenever it happened, I knew she really, truly needed me.

I turned around to follow Eloise back into the room after shutting the door behind me, only to find her frozen just a few steps from where she'd come in. Benedict stood next to the bed, looking tired but resigned to our new morning activity as he laced up his shirt.

"Good morning, Eloise," he said, a little edge of teasing in his tone. "You know, I was trying to enjoy the morning with my wife-"

"Do I look like I knew that?" she cried. I fought back a laugh as I walked forward to wrap my arm around her shoulder.

"It's alright, Eloise," I said. "Benedict and I were about to get up for the morning, anyway."

Benedict shot me a look with his eyebrows almost into his hairline, and I glared right back, imploring him to go along with me. He cleared his throat.

"Right. That we were. What did you need help with, sister?"

She hesitated, so I walked around to face her, putting both of my hands on her shoulders and blocking her eyeline to Benedict. I gave her a small smile, so she'd know everything was alright, then spoke in a low voice that I knew Benedict wouldn't be able to hear.

"If this is a ladies' problem, or one you don't want your brother to know about, El, I'll throw him out of here right now and we can talk, alright? But if you're embarrassed about knocking when you did, then you truly don't need to be. We love you, and we'd both drop far more important things to help you whenever you need it."

Eloise sighed, nodding a little as she did. The bright red blush that had risen to her cheeks started to fade, and she at last met my eyes again.

"Thank you. I... suppose it wouldn't hurt to have Benedict's input as well," she said. I nodded, giving her a bright smile before turning around to face my husband.

"Put your problem-solving hat on, Benedict," I said. I started drifting for the couches by Benedict's turret window, one of my favorite features of his room. "We've got a family matter to deal with."

They both beamed at me as they started following me over to the couch. I'd considered a few of Benedict's siblings as good as family for a long time now, but it felt amazing to be able to say that and have it be completely true.

Benedict and Eloise settled into the couch on either side of me, Benedict resting his arm across my shoulders. Those kinds of casual touches would've been scandalous before we were married, but now we could do them whenever we wanted to, which also made my heart sing.

Eloise gave us both one last look with a raised eyebrow, then launched into her explanation of the problem that had brought her to our doorstep, which had something to do with a boy of virtually no social status who'd caught her attention. Benedict and I spent the rest of the morning, helping her as best we could, in the way only we could.

Although I hated that Eloise had to deal with the problems she dealt with, a small part of me sang the entire morning as Benedict and I worked together, the perfect team, to help his little sister. This was going to be the rest of our lives, with Eloise and maybe someday with children of our own, and I couldn't be happier thinking about that future with Benedict. We made the perfect team.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 24- Holding Back

yeah so... it's angel yn x demon h smut and it's filthy so here we goooo.

Fictober

Patreon

WARNINGS- demon h, angel Y/N, mean Dom h, dumbification, degradation, choking, hair pulling, etc. Just filth.

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Holding her hair in a ponytail, Harry’s hand drug her back to press her back against his sweaty chest. His hips continued to move, the slap of skin audible in the room, but Y/N was trying to keep it down. 

 “You’re holding back.” He hissed into her ear, the tingles of her hair being gripped and his lips so close making her body shiver. The demon was rough with her, just the way she’d found herself craving, one hand curling around her throat as she let out the most pathetic whimper she’d ever hear. “Who cares if anyone hears, hm? It’s what you need to do.”

His cock was deep in her, fucking into her sopping wet cunt, and he knew he was directly where she liked being fucked. “Poor little Angel. Still so afraid of letting people see even a bit of Dirt.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts and hitting deep, making her mouth fall open and a wheezy squeak leaving her lips. 

“I think that’s what it is. Y’walk around, like you’re this holy, sweet, innocent little thing. Perfect Angel, so soft spoken and touch so delicate. But when the door is closed.” He squeezed a bit harder with his fingers on her throat, making her gasp again. “The door is closed and you’re getting your holes fucked by the very creature you claim to hate. Sweet little Angel Y/N, God’s favorite… Is getting raw fucked by the demon who followed you home.” He snickered, loving that he had been her downfall. 

If Y/N wasn’t in the midst of pleasure, she would smack him hard. She would turn her nose up in the air, stomp her foot and leave. But she wasn’t there, she was being fucked by said man so well that her body was clay for him to model, her cunt wrapped around him and getting sparks of pleasure rendering her brain useless. “Hm? No retort from the pretty ice queen?” His tongue licked over her jaw, letting her breathe better for a moment as she shook her head. It was the right answer, because she was rewarded with her hair being released and sneaking down to rub at her throbbing clit. 

“Right answer, Angel girl. Got you so drunk on my cock that you’ve turned into a braindead little slut.” His voice got rougher, making her clench around him. He was soaked with her arousal, balls dripping with it, and he was enjoying every second of it. “Big and proper when we’re out there but the moment we’re alone you fall to the ground and mouth at my cock, get on those knees and open that pretty little mouth just so I can spit into it, fuck it… whatever I want because you’re just my little toy, yeah Angel?” He felt her try to nod, but that wasn’t enough.  “Use your words. Tell me you’re just my toy to fuck.” 

“I’m just… I’m your- I’m just your toy to f-fuck.” She shivered, her brain pleasantly floating as he fucked her. Y/N didn’t know sex could be as good as it was and surely she would pretend to hate depraved things such as this when she left the room- but something about the demon made her want to submit fully. Allowed herself to go blank, to take him the way he wanted her to. “Please,please,please, can I?” She pleaded, wanting so badly to cum. The stroke of his cock and his fingers rubbing over her clit and the nibbling of her jaw, it was the perfect storm. She was so close to letting go, so close to cumming all over his thick cock and then- 

He stopped. Fingers stilling on her clit, cock buried to the hilt and stopping, Y/N cried out in loss as he cooed at her. “None of that. You’re going to cum when I want you to, beautiful thing. If you’re going to turn your back on me out there, that’s fine. But I want you to remember being edged as many times as you can be. Roll your eyes at me saying hello next time and m’not going to let you come at all. You’ve got to be reminded what you are.” He kissed away a tear, pulling her to lay her head back on him. “A slut for a demon, a personal whore. You’ve signed up for this, you come knocking at my door to apologize… Give me this sweet body and a promise of being better next time… I think the only way to make a girl like you learn, is if I take away what you’re after.” Harry’s hand crawled up her belly, pressing over where he was sure he was buried, rocking back and forth into her to get some relief. 

“Because none of those angels can fuck you the way you want. You want flower petals and champagne and a slow rock of a fuck? Go on to them. But you won’t because underneath that angelic body, lays the prettiest, most willing to please slut that wants a pounding.” His chuckle made her shudder again, pressing his lips to her cheek. “As long as you remember you’re mine and show me a bit more respect? I can continue to make this happen. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes- yeah, I do Harry. I’m sorry.” She whined, cut off when his hand smacked over her breast.  As much as she tried, Harry was the one who shut her brain off. Let her focus on pleasure and give her a sweet pain to remember the next day, making her feel more alive than she had ever been. “I am yours, I promise.” 

“I know that.” He stated. “Get back down and turn around. Want to see you cry for my cum.”

[lady-ashfade]

Day 2 Of Fictober

Poison

Yandere! Rhaenrya Targaryen x Daughter!Reader.

Ask: Can you write a platonic yandere mother Rhaenyra fic where she secretly gives her daughter non fatal doses of poison so that she is to sick to leave Dragonstone when its time for her to marry her betrothed.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Over protective, over bearing parent, being poisoned. Poison, family full of yanderes, daemon being included because it fits.

The day you were born Rhaenrya swore she could hear the gods sing in harmony together. Your cries sounded like heaven to her ears, the little girl who belong to her. Y/n, the first daughter of Rhaenrya Targaryen. “Beautiful,” she brushed the hair and blood off of your forehead and placed a kiss.

“My sweet girl.”

You had stoped crying when you came into contact with her skin and warmth, she was safe and familiar. Rhaenrya had blessed with a boy and she was grateful to have two beautiful children. But her first born had dark hair and fair light skin, you had her features of paler skin and silver hair. Your mother knew she needed to protect you from the darkness of the world and keep you innocent.

Each day you were at the queens side or in your own room. She would take her younger son to see you and get you both comfortable with one another. Jace couldn’t stop smiling and clapping when he saw you, he’s such a good older brother. As the years passed by you grew to need your mother or your brothers, being dependent on her. Where the princess went you weren’t far behind in a small dress and coping her.

But now it was the day she had dreaded for your whole life. You being betrothed to a lord far away and not with her.

“But mother, I need silver.” You huffed as you pressed the dress to your body. A smile on your cheeks as you swing yourself from side to side in the mirror. “Silver will match his clothes.” She cringed at your giggling and delighted to be married off, to leave her behind. A daughter should want to stay with her mother as long as she could, even cry when leaving her mother.

“You are stressing dearest,” her hands stopped your hands and looked at you through the mirror and smiled. “No need not to change for a man, not when you’re already perfection.” Her lips met your cheeks and you laugh at her sweetness and affection. You turned around and took her back into your arms and hugged her close.

“Only because you’re my mother and taught me every I know. I will make you proud, mother. This marriage will help our family with the whispers,” a hushed tone of the mention of rumors spreading around the realm of you and your brothers birth. “Promise.” Her chest loved how you smiled and wanted to help her, her sweet girl.

But it was foolish to think she’d let you go. And that’s why she needed to keep you by her side since you were so naive.

She watched as you laughed with your brothers at the table and ate your favorite meal. How could she let this go? As soon as you lifted your cup to your mouth she was ready for the moment to happen. Daemon by her side keeping a eye on you too as he help with the poison, a maester waiting outside the door. A few seconds later you began to cough and play it off for a few seconds until it became hard for you to breathe.

“Someone help her!” Rhaenrya acted the part of a scared mother and it wasn’t all a lie. Seeing you so panicked and scared, grabbing ahold of her as if it was the last time. Of course she hated it but this was for the best. No one would ever expected the woman who loved her children above all else to poison them. Daemon had a “search” for the person who did it, and a servant was kill for the crime. A innocent life was worthless to them when it came to you.

A few days later you awaken from your rest and saw your mother beside your bed as she hummed. “Mother?” You called out with a horse voice and she jumped up to take you in her arms. The relief spread on her face as she kissed your head repeatedly and whisper prayers to the gods. “I was so worried.” You held onto her but she got a cup and lifts it to your lips. The first thing was to clear your throat and get it back.

Sipping the drink you smile and lean back down, looking at her loving. “Please tell me I wasn’t out to long, Sir Roderick will be saddened at my lack of letters.” It went unnoticed that she gripped the sheets and a quick smirk that she turned into a smile. He will have to find another bride to have because you’re never leaving the castle.

“I’m sure you will recover soon.” The cup was set back down as she smiled at the bottom where a powder was seen. Rhaenrya kept you on a small amount of poison every week to keep you from getting around on your own or to long. Something to make your body weak without her help.

“Now rest up, my sweet girl.”

[ghostofskywalker]

I Love You, But I Love Your Cat More

Natasha Romanoff/Reader

Fictober Day 25 of 31

Words: 725

Summary: When you have a bad day, there's only one place you would even think about going.

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

It only took two knocks for her to answer the door, and the minute she opened it, she could tell what you were there for. Today had been the worst day you’ve had in a while, and it truly felt like there was nothing in the entire world that had the capabilities of making you feel better, but there was one thing you wanted to try.

“Bad day?” Natasha asked as she opened the door, and you just nodded in response, sure that your face carried the weight of your exhaustion. “Come in, she’s on the couch.”

Natasha was your best friend in the entire world and you would do anything for her in a moment’s notice, but if she said anything or mentioned how close you were, you would jokingly tell her that your relationship was only as good as it was because of her cat. A beautifully striped gray and brown tabby with green eyes, Fig had the most beautiful purr and the unique ability to make you forget every worry you’ve ever had when she was within three feet of you.

You practically flopped down on the couch, heaving a sigh that must have clearly communicated your worries, because the next thing you knew, Fig was crawling over to you and settling in your lap. Instantly, you could feel some form of peace wash over your brain, and Natasha walked into the room to see you smiling.

She sat down next to you, and you laid your head on her shoulder. After years of friendship the two of you felt completely comfortable around each other, and this was not a new experience for either of you. Truth be told, if given the chance to progress your relationship you would probably take it in a heartbeat (you would never be able to deny the fact that she was incredibly attractive), but right now you were happy with the way that you snuggled on the couch while you gently ran your hands down Fig’s back, listening to the way she purred like some kind of fluffy comfort machine.

“You want to talk to me about your bad day?” she asked quietly, reaching to grab the pale blue blanket that rested on the top of the couch and place it over your laps.

You paused, thinking about her question as Fig got herself comfortable in the blanket, and you smiled at the way her little head popped out but her body stayed exactly where it was before. “Not really,” you said. “It’s just a lot of things that seemed to build up, you know?”

“Yeah, I do,” she said. “And you know that if you ever do decide you want to talk, I’m here for you.” Both of you have said that to each other before, and you never doubted her sincerity. But since the friendship you had built together centered more around physical comfort than long vent sessions (and the fact that you did not want to cry right now), you elected not to go into the finer details of your terrible day.

Pizza was ordered and movies were played, all from the comfort of the couch, and it was hours before you even moved from that spot. You watched as Fig played with a toy mouse on the ground, filled with a kind of sudden energy that you honestly envied a little bit, and you thanked Natasha profusely for everything she did for you.

Halfway through the second movie of the day and right after Fig had hopped up in your lap once more, you could feel your eyes closing. Natasha was right next to you, and you didn’t want to disturb the way she was settled against you, so you just closed your eyes and allowed yourself to drift off right then and there. For a beautifully blissful moment, you completely forgot about what had given you so much pain and stress earlier today, and you allowed yourself to bask in the comfort and serenity that being in this place (and with this company) brought.

You could have sworn you felt a soft kiss on your forehead as you slipped away from the waking world, but it also could have been a perfect dream. Whatever it was though, you didn’t really care, because you were right where you were supposed to be.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober: Day 3 Poly Ghostface Part 1 (Billy and Stu) (Apple Cider)

Day 4! If it isn't obvious by now I wrote like most of these in September so I could post them way easier when October is here so shout out to past me for planning ahead.

Part 2 to this fic here

Notes: Minors DNI, Suggestive themes, Gender neutral reader, no specific pronouns. This is a poly relationship fic so if you aren't into it then this is not the fic for you.

"Stu that's insane" You said as he leaned against the locker next to yours, He laughed.

"Oh come on babe, Billy doesn't have to know anything"

"And you'd really think we'd be able to get away with it?" You asked incredulously, To try and do something behind Billy's back was a risk.

"Yeah babe totally. Me and you, in and out, and good ole Billy would be none the wiser" You closed your locker and leaned against it looking at him.

"Fine, If you really think we'll get away with this, But I swear Stu if Billy finds out-" Stu grabbed your shoulders.

"He won't babe, Stu's got you"

Before third period Stu had approached you with an idea, Billy had some things to take care of and wouldn't be able to do the boys usual Ghostface schtick that him and Stu usually manned. So Stu had come to you, their precious significant other, to help stalk out the next victim.

Billy had always been very much so against you EVER joining them on their excursions ever since they had come clean that they were the Ghostface. Stu had always agreed to keep Billy quiet but he had teased and propositioned you in what you thought was a joking way before until this time around.

The two of you knew that if Billy found out Stu had even so much as thought to invite you to join him while Billy was off doing other things that there would be hell to pay. But it was just a stake out to choose the next victim they wanted to go after, Stu figured it wouldn't be that bad.

"I'll do it then, If you promise Billy won't find out then fine let's do it" You told him, A wicked grin spread across his face.

"Oh babe! I knew you'd say yes!" Stu brought you into a hug and kissed the side of your head "I'll pick you up later tonight and you can even pick who it is!". If Stu Macher was anything, it was enthusiastic.

================================================

Later that night Stu arrived at your house as promised. You left your house through your window as usual and got in the passenger seat of Stu's parents car.

"It's time baby! You're gonna love it I promise" Stu said as you opened the door to get in.

"Sure Stu, I'm more so just interested to see what my boys do when I'm not around" Which was the truth, You'd always wanted to see just how the Ghostface attacks went down and how they singled out who they went after.

"One day maybe it'll be me, you and Billy, Like one big happy family, You pick the victims, me and Billy go after them. It'll be great!" Stu said as he pulled away from your house and heading towards the destination to stake out.

"You know that would take a lot of convincing on Billy's part though"

"That's why we start here, and one day we tell Billy about this and show him how good you did! Then he won't be able to deny how much of a natural you are"

"Stu it's just a stakeout I thought? Like all we're doing is picking one of these sorry pieces of shit to go after" Stu nodded.

"It is, but this is a gateway into your life of the Ghostface, and here we are!"

You looked at the window and noticed you and Stu were pulled off into a shadowy part of the backroad down the road from a house you recognized from a few parties you had went to with the boys.

It was about ten at night at this point and you knew the black car would be almost impossible to see behind the trees you were covered by so you and Stu would be impossible to see.

"Now I do have to warn you this is the boring part, We need to make sure we know when their gonna be home and when they aren't so we know when to strike" Stu told you.

You and Stu then sat in silence for about an hour just watching the house and the people who lives there coming home for the night. You were startled out of the silence by your cellphone ringing.

"It's Billy" You told Stu starting to get nervous, Stu sighed

"Just tell him your sick at home doing homework or something" Stu told you, you shakily answered.

"Hello?" You answered the phone softly.

"Hey baby" Billy's voice poured down the phone like honey.

"What's up?" You asked him "Did you get your shit done?"

"Yeah baby I did, What are you up too?" You froze then remembered what Stu told you to say.

"Oh I'm just laying down and all, I didn't feel so hot after school"

"Really?" Billy asked

"Yeah my stomach started feeling upset" You heard Billy sigh then pause for a second through the phone.

"Well see baby that actually funny, you know why?" Shit.

"Why Billy?" You asked, still hoping to play innocent.

"Well it's funny cause I'm standing in your room right now and you aren't fucking here" You turned your head and frantically tapped Stu on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Billy" You said at a loss for what else to say.

"Don't give me that shit, where the fuck are you?" Billy was angry, You could almost feel the anger through the phone.

Stu now obviously listening in to the call started the car and then grabbed the phone from you.

"Hey Billy man why don't you meet us at my house, We'll see you then, bye!" and then he hung up.

"STU! why would you hang up !?" You knew that would've pushed Billy passed the point of being furious.

"Relax babe just let Stu handle this"

A few minutes late the two of you had pulled into Stu's driveway, his parents way on another trip to some other country. Stu brought you to his room to sit on his bed and wait for Billy to arrive.

A little while later after many hushed words trying to calm you down from Stu, The two of you heard the front door slam open then shut once again, and angry hurried footsteps run up the stairs.

As soon as Stu's bedroom door opened Billy started yelling.

'What in the fuck do you two think your doing?"

"Billy It's not-" Billy didn't stop.

"No, you're gonna wait a second, I fucking told the two of you I didn't want you to be involved in mine and Stu's shit"

"Billy it wasn't all that, It was just a stakeout" Stu piped up. Billy's head snapped to look at Stu.

"Billy c'mon, don't be mad, like Stu said it wasn't all that. I was never in any danger or anything. We kept it from you cause we knew you were gonna be mad" You explained trying to diffuse any confrontation between your two boys before it started.

'That's not the point and you know it, the three of us agreed that you would never be involved at all. The two of you went behind my fucking back and violated something I only put in place to fucking protect you" Billy's anger wasn't dissipating but at least he wasn't yelling anymore.

Billy exhaled and sat next to you on the bed, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders in an attempt to start calming him down.

"Billy we're sorry, we knew you were gonna be mad and still did it, but do you really think Stu would've let me go along if I was actually going to be in any real danger"

Stu appeared on the opposite side of you as you spoke.

"Yeah man, you know I love Y/n as much as you do, If I thought things were gonna get hairy I wouldn't of even thought about the two of us going, especially not without you"

Billy sighed once again but you felt some of the tension leaving his body. You rubbed his shoulder willing him to speak what was on his mind.

"It's not just about dangerous shit like that though, It's also about if for some fucking reason we ever get caught. I want you to have no ties to it at all. You aren't apart of it and you don't know anything"

You nodded in understanding, that anger wasn't cause Billy was actually mad he was just scared. Billy continued.

"When I got to your house and went through your window expecting you to be there only to see that you weren't, I got I don't know, I got really fucking scared. Even though my brain knew you were probably with Stu knowing what we do and what danger you could really be in scared the shit out of me."

Stu scooted closer and wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you brought Billy closer to lean against you as you leaned back into Stu.

"We're sorry we scared you Honey, we honestly just thought it would be a help for me to fill in since you had shit to do tonight and couldn't. Sure we thought you were gonna be mad if you found out but we didn't mean to scare you"

"Yeah man, the last thing we wanted to do was that. I wasn't thinking shit through and thought it would be fun if maybe one day it was the three of us together instead of just me and you"

"I guess it would be nice but I still stand by what I said, for now at least please, I don't want you apart of it" Bill said looking at you, you smiled and nodded before leaning over and placing your lips on his frown.

You felt Stu's hands run up your sides, and tug at your shirt, You playfully rolled your eyes before letting him take your shirt off. Billy let out a laugh before connecting your lips once more.

Stu's lips attached themselves to your neck and Billy's hands made their way down to your pants to unbutton them and move them down your legs. Billy tossed your pants to the floor as you got up onto your knees on the bed in front of him.

Stu wrapped his arms around your middle and placed his chin on your shoulder with a smirk.

"Maybe if I dressed like this you'd let me come with you guys?" You teased.

"Certainly babe" Stu said, Billy shook his head.

"You two spend too much time around each other" he said, placing his hands underneath Stu's on your hips.

"Maybe you should spend some time with us and show us what we're missing" You smirked at him.

"Maybe I will"

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Halloween Movie Marathon.

fictober masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - this one gives me all the feels, ngl, what i would do to have a cuddle on the sofa with harry.

word count - 3.3k

in which, it's your first halloween where your children finally understand the concept of what it is, after having taken them out trick or treating, the four of you all cuddle up on the sofa, hot coco in one hand whilst the other dips in and out of there sweet bucket, a movie marathon where the films are child friendly halloween films which both you and your husband can't wait to show your children, creating not only a family tradition but memories to last a lifetime.

trope: husband!harry

On a crisp and moonlit Halloween night, you and your husband Harry excitedly prepared for a tradition you'd been waiting for since your children were born: taking Malachai, your four-year-old, and Winnie, your freshly turned two-year-old daughter, out for their first real trick-or-treating experience.

The excitement was palpable in your household as you helped your little ones into their carefully selected costumes.

Malachai's face lit up with joy as he twirled around in his Batman suit, a reflection of his unyielding enthusiasm for all things superhero. His deep blue cape fluttered dramatically behind him as he posed with a playful grin, ready to conquer the night.

Winnie, on the other hand, had been dressed as Wednesday Addams, a character she seemed to have an innate connection with, despite her tender age.

She didn’t really smile a lot, only when she was near her father, the two of them had an exceptionally close bond.

The tiny, sombre costume suited her perfectly, with a jet-black dress, pale makeup, and her dark hair held in two braided pigtails. She looked both adorable and eerie, a striking contrast that only added to her charm.

As you stepped out into the cool, autumn evening, the streets were alive with the flickering glow of jack-o'-lanterns and the sounds of excited children and their parents.

Your little family joined the Halloween revelry, with Malachai leading the way, exuberantly shouting, "Trick or treat!" at each house you visited.

He expertly wielded his plastic Batmobile bucket, a constant companion throughout the evening, eagerly awaiting candy from each doorstep.

Winnie, being at the tender age of two, was just starting to grasp the concept of Halloween. She clung to your hand, her big green eyes (much like her fathers) filled with curiosity and a hint of wariness, occasionally practising her very own version of "trick or treat" in the sweetest toddler lisp. Her tiny fingers couldn't quite manage the task of holding a candy bag, so you and Harry took turns collecting her treats.

The decorations adorning the houses in your neighbourhood were nothing short of breathtaking. Cobwebs, pumpkins, and eerie silhouettes of witches and ghosts adorned every porch. Your little ones were enthralled by the captivating displays, each one sparking their imaginations as you ventured from one house to the next.

As the night wore on, a gentle chill settled in, prompting you to pause at a neighbor's fire pit where families gathered, toasting marshmallows and sharing spooky stories.

Malachai and Winnie marvelled at the dancing flames, their faces illuminated with the warm glow of the fire. It was in moments like these that you cherished the closeness of your family.

After several hours of trick-or-treating, the excitement began to give way to sleepy yawns and drooping eyelids. Malachai's candy bucket had grown heavy with the spoils of the night, while Winnie's adorable little face was smeared with chocolate from her first-ever Halloween treat. You decided it was time to head back home.

Walking hand in hand, you strolled back through the now quiet streets, your hearts full of love for your little superheroes and the charmingly spooky Wednesday Addams. With Malachai's cape fluttering in the breeze and Winnie's pigtails swaying, it was a Halloween night that you would cherish for years to come,

As you step through the front door, a warmth envelops you, not just from the inviting atmosphere of your home but from the joy and contentment of your Halloween adventure with Malachai and Winnie.

Harry, with a gentle smile, looks at you and says, "M’gonna get t’kids changed into their cosy pyjamas, and y’can work y’magic on the hot cocoa. They're going t’love it."

He leans down to pick up Winnie, who snuggles into his neck with her tiny Wednesday Addams costume. She clings to his shirt, and her tired eyes still hold a glimmer of excitement from the night's adventure. Malachai, gripping his plastic Batmobile bucket, eagerly extends his hand to Harry, who takes it with a reassuring squeeze.

"Okay, y’two," Harry says as he starts to make his way up the stairs with the kids in tow. "S’time t’get into y’warm PJs and then we'll come down f’a treat with Mommy."

Winnie, in her sleepy state, mumbles something unintelligible but content into Harry's neck, and Malachai excitedly chatters about his favorite houses and the candies he collected. You can hear their footsteps gradually ascending the stairs as they disappear from view, leaving you alone in the cozy living room, already picturing the smiles on their faces when they taste the hot cocoa.

He makes his way to Winnie's bedroom with his precious Wednesday Addams in tow. The room is bathed in a soft, comforting glow from the nightlight, casting gentle shadows that dance on the walls.

He eases her out of her costume, chuckling softly as she fumbles with the little buttons and zippers.

"Y’doing great, m’sunshine," he encourages her, his deep voice filled with warmth.

Winnie's little diaper-clad bottom wiggles as she chooses her own pyjamas from her drawer. Her tiny hands reach for the set with pumpkins, as if she instinctively knows that it's Halloween. She tugs the pyjamas out and turns to her father, holding them up with a proud grin.

Harry can't help but smile at her choice.

"Pumpkins, huh? S’perfect f’tonight, m’little pumpkin," he says, bending down to scoop her up in his arms. Her small frame is light and warm against him, and he revels in the sweet scent of her baby shampoo and the feeling of her little arms wrapping around his neck.

With gentle precision, he helps her slide into her pumpkin pajamas, making sure every button is secure.

"There you go, all set," he whispers, brushing a soft kiss on her forehead. Winnie nestles into her father's arms, feeling safe and cosy in her Halloween-themed sleepwear.

With Winnie all set in her cosy pumpkin pyjamas, Harry turns his attention to his energetic four-year-old superhero, Malachai.

"Alright’, buddy," he grins, sweeping Malachai up in his arms. "S’go t’y’room."

Malachai's face lights up with excitement as he's carried off, his tiny Batmobile bucket still clutched in his hand. His little heart races with the anticipation of choosing his pajamas. Harry gently lowers him onto his lap, their faces almost level, and begins to help him out of the Batman costume.

As he peels back the cape and unzips the suit, Malachai can't help but giggle.

"Daddy, I got so many candies!" he exclaims, his eyes wide with wonder.

Harry chuckles, ruffling his son's hair. "I saw that, buddy! Y’were an amazing Batman out there."

With the costume finally off, Harry tells Malachai,

"Okay, go ahead and pick out your pyjamas." Malachai doesn't need a second invitation; he eagerly darts off to his dresser, a whirlwind of excitement and enthusiasm.

In a matter of seconds, he's back, holding up a pair of Batman-themed pajamas, complete with a little Bat-Signal on the shirt. Harry can't help but laugh at his son's choice. "Well, I should've guessed you'd pick those, m’little superhero."

Malachai grins from ear to ear as he hands over the pajamas to his dad, ready for the last transformation of the night before they both head downstairs to enjoy the hot cocoa and some Halloween treats.

As Harry is helping Malachai change into his Batman pyjamas, he suddenly hears a commotion coming from the nearby bedroom. Laughter and the sound of fabric rustling are unmistakable signs that Winnie is up to something.

He gently advises Malachai, "Almost done, buddy. Just a moment."

He heads to Winnie's room, where he finds his little Wednesday Addams in the midst of a rather energetic quilt-throwing exercise. Quilt pieces lie strewn about, and her mischievous giggles fill the room.

With an amused smile, Harry asks her, "Win, what are y’doing, sweetie?"

Winnie looks up, her big green eyes holding a glint of mischief, and she simply replies, "Bored."

Harry chuckles at her honesty, realising that she's probably looking for some excitement after the adventure of trick-or-treating.

He kneels down and gently gathers her into his arms. "Well, how about we go downstairs and have some hot cocoa? Would that be more exciting than bothering your lovely bed?"

Winnie nods, her pumpkin pyjamas crinkling with the movement.

Fifteen minutes have passed since you and Harry managed to get the little ones settled into their cozy pajamas and had some quality bonding time. Now, the living room is a hub of activity as the two of you prepare for a movie night to round off Halloween in style.

You've both changed into your comfortable pajamas, creating an atmosphere of warmth and relaxation. Harry wears a simple t-shirt and shorts, while you've slipped into a pair of his boxers and one of his well-worn t-shirts that still carries the scent of his cologne. It's a comforting aroma that wraps around you like a familiar embrace, making you feel even closer to him.

Together, you're setting up the living room for the perfect movie night. The TV is on, casting a soft, inviting glow across the room. A cozy blanket is spread out on the couch, waiting to envelop you both in its warmth as the night progresses.

In the kitchen, you can hear the gentle hum of the microwave as the popcorn starts to pop. The tantalizing scent of buttered popcorn fills the air, promising a delectable treat for the evening's entertainment.

With the popcorn timer set, you and Harry adjust the cushions on the couch, fluffing them up for maximum comfort. The remote control rests on the coffee table, ready to transport you to the world of your chosen Halloween movie.

Harry glances at you and grins.

"M’gonna come with y’t’ get t’hot cocoa, so we don't have t’keep getting up during t’movies," he suggests, knowing that once you're all settled in on the couch, it's best to minimise interruptions.

You nod in agreement and turn toward Malachai and Winnie, who are perched on the couch, their eyes fixed on the TV.

"Alright, kiddos," you say playfully, "we'll be right back. Be good for a minute."

Malachai nods, his little Batman eyes shining with excitement, and Winnie gives you a mischievous grin.

"Behave, you two," you say, smirking at them, knowing that their idea of "being good" might be open to interpretation.

In the cosy kitchen, you and Harry stand side by side, the scent of popcorn filling the air as the microwave hums to life. The sound of kernels popping is rhythmic, a soothing backdrop to the conversation between you two.

As you prepare the popcorn, Harry can't resist leaning in and brushing a playful kiss to your cheek.

"Y’know," he says with a mischievous glint in his eye, "you wearing m’shirt does something t’me."

You chuckle and play along. "Oh, does it now? And what might that be?"

Harry's lips curl into a gentle smile as he takes a step closer.

"Well," he begins, "it makes m’want t’hold y’like this." He wraps his strong arms around your waist, pulling you into a warm embrace.

You feel your heart flutter at his touch and tilt your head toward him, resting it on his shoulder.

"What else?" you ask, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

Harry's warm breath tickles your ear as he continues, "It makes m’want t’kiss y’until we forget all about the movie night."

His words are filled with affection and desire, and you can't help but blush. The microwave dings, signalling that the popcorn is ready, and you both turn your attention to the hot cocoa.

You grab the mugs and pour the steaming chocolatey goodness, while Harry retrieves a can of whipped cream from the fridge. As you finish garnishing the cocoa, you feel his presence close behind you.

He places a soft kiss on your temple and whispers, "And y’laugh, especially in m’shirt, s’m’favorite sound."

You turn to face him, sharing a sweet, lingering kiss as you exchange mugs, ready to head back to the living room with the popcorn and hot cocoa, cherishing this tender moment and the love that surrounds you.

The living room is now perfectly set up for a family movie night. The soft glow of the TV illuminates the room, casting a cozy atmosphere that envelops you all. Winnie's choice for the evening is "Hotel Transylvania," and it's playing on the screen. She's curled up on her father's lap, a warm blanket cocooning her tiny form.

As the movie begins, you can't help but smile at the sight. Winnie's eyes are wide with wonder as she watches the colourful characters on the screen. Harry wraps his arms protectively around her, his gentle voice whispering, "S’this y’favourite movie, sweetheart?"

Winnie nods, her sleepy eyes twinkling with delight, and she snuggles deeper into her father's embrace.

On the other side of the couch, Malachai is cuddled up against you, his little head resting on your shoulder. He clutches his favourite superhero plushie tightly in his hand, occasionally glancing at the screen with rapt attention.

The atmosphere is filled with warmth, love, and the soft sounds of the movie, punctuated by the occasional giggle from Winnie.

The movie progresses, and as the characters in "Hotel Transylvania" embark on their comical adventures, a series of shared giggles and gasps fills the room.

Winnie, with her fascination for the animated world on the screen, occasionally points at the characters, and Harry, ever the doting father, indulges her by asking, "Do y’like Dracula, sweetie?"

Winnie grins widely, her tiny face alight with excitement, and nods, "Dracula funny!"

Meanwhile, Malachai is engrossed in the movie's action, his big brown eyes wide as he follows every twist and turn. He occasionally snuggles closer to you, as if seeking comfort during the slightly spooky scenes.

As the family settles in, you reach for the bowl of popcorn and hand a piece to Malachai, who takes it eagerly and munches away, the crunch of popcorn providing a delightful background sound to the film.

With a warm, contented sigh, you nuzzle your son's hair and steal a quick glance at Harry and Winnie. You can't help but appreciate these quiet, precious moments when it's just the four of you, lost in a world of animated monsters and a shared love that binds you.

Midway through the movie, as the animated characters face a comical conundrum, Malachai can no longer resist the allure of the candies he's collected during the night.

He sneaks a hand into his Batmobile bucket, selects a piece, and with a sly grin, he turns to you, his wide eyes shining. "Mommy, want a candy?"

You can't help but chuckle at his irresistible charm and accept the candy he offers. After taking the treat, you lean in, gently pressing a soft kiss to his button-like nose. He lets out a joyful giggle at the unexpected display of affection, his heart warmed by the simple gesture.

With the candy indulged, you both return your attention to the movie. The lively characters on the screen continue their quirky adventures, and the living room echoes with shared laughter and the occasional gasp at the on-screen antics.

Harry, from his spot across the room, watches with a fond smile. His heart swells with love as he sees the bond between you and Malachai, a mother and son sharing moments of pure joy.

He can't help but chime in, "Hey, don't forget to save some candy for me!"

Malachai grins and offers the candy bucket to his father, who selects a piece with a playful wink.

As "Hotel Transylvania" nears its conclusion, it's evident that the long and exciting day of Halloween adventures has taken its toll on the little ones.

Malachai, his eyelids growing heavier with every passing moment, has shifted from his snug spot at your side to rest his head on his father's lap.

Winnie, nestled under her blanket and clutching her favourite plush toy, is in a half-dreamy state as she gazes at the screen.

The movie's ending is met with a quiet stillness in the room, punctuated only by the gentle, even breaths of your two precious superheroes.

The soft glow of the TV paints a warm, comforting picture. Harry smiles down at Malachai, who is slowly surrendering to sleep, and he gently strokes his son's hair, a loving and protective father's touch.

In the quiet moments of the evening, the soft lamplight casts a warm, gentle glow in the living room. The day's activities have left Winnie tired but still full of curiosity and energy. She's been trying to settle on her fathers lap like she does most nights but now she has a different kind of need.

As you sit comfortably on the couch, Winnie's inquisitive spirit takes over.

She crawls over to your lap, her bright eyes filled with a mix of innocence and desire.

She pauses in front of you, gazing up with a look that seems to convey, "Mommy, can I?"

You smile down at her, understanding her silent request. In response, you lovingly adjust your position, allowing her to crawl onto your lap. Her tiny hands, warm and soft, reach for your shirt, her fingers fumbling to lift it up.

You ask her, "Do you want some mommy milk, sweetie?"

Winnie's face lights up with a happy nod, and she whines softly as her efforts to lift your shirt all the way are met with a bit of difficulty. Her determination to satisfy her hunger is apparent, and her love for "mummy milk" is a testament to the special bond between a mother and her child.

With a gentle, motherly touch, you guide her to your breast, and she latches on with eager determination. As she begins to feed, you brush her soft hair away from her face and stroke her cheek. The connection between you two deepens, and in this intimate moment, you cherish the unique and profound love you share.

As your youngest settles into her peaceful breastfeeding session, the living room is not devoid of activity.

On the sofa, you can see Harry and your eldest still seated together.

Malachai's eyes are heavy, his little body leaning comfortably against his father. The remnants of their family movie night are visible in the traces of popcorn that litter the coffee table.

Malachai glances up at his father, his sleepy gaze meeting Harry's warm, tender eyes.

With a quiet understanding, he says, "Daddy, I love our family."

Harry's heart swells with love, and he replies, "I love our family too, buddy. And y’know what? We're all so lucky t’have Mommy, aren't we?"

Malachai smiles, his sleepy face lit up with affection. "Yeah, we're the luckiest. And Winnie's lucky too."

Harry chuckles softly. "Y’absolutely right, m’little superhero."

The night has fallen, and the house is immersed in a comforting stillness. You and Harry have just put both Malachai and Winnie to bed, their innocent faces wrapped in the embrace of slumber.

The room is now your own, and the two of you lay side by side in the cosy intimacy of your double bed.

Harry, the moonlight gently caressing his features, turns to you with a thoughtful look.

"Do y’ever think about trying f’another baby?" he asks, his voice laced with curiosity.

Harry's question hangs in the air, you go quiet, and a small, enigmatic smile plays on your lips. Harry notices your silence and turns his head to look at you, his eyes searching for your thoughts.

“S’that smile for?" he asks with a curious, quizzical expression.

You take a deep breath, your heart beating a little faster, and with a soft chuckle, you say, "I don't think there's much 'trying' to do."

His brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, but then your hand gently guided his, placing it on your stomach. As he feels the gentle, subtle curve of your belly under his touch, realisation dawns in his eyes, and his gaze locks onto yours.

A beautiful mix of emotions washes over him, and with a joyful and surprised grin, he whispers, "Are y’saying...?"

You nod, your eyes shining with love and happiness. "Yes, H, we're going to have another baby."

[allzelemonz]

Helping and Teaching: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 7, Virginity Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB, Mention of chest hair Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Colm O’Driscoll has a virginity kink big time, Reader is an O’Driscoll, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, proposition, kissing, grinding, clothed dominant/naked submissive, anal fingering, anal sex, top Colm/bottom Reader, gentle Colm for once Summary: While out on a job with the other O’Driscoll boys, you let slip that you’re a virgin. When this news gets back to Colm, his interest is piqued.

When Tommy interrupts the festivities around the fire everyone could tell it’s something serious. Billy stops playing his fiddle, Declan pauses his bottle halfway to his mouth, everyone looks at one of Colm’s most trusted with bated breath. This last job was huge, Tommy wouldn’t be disrupting the celebration unless…

“Colm wants ya.” He says gruffly, his eyes boring into yours.

“Me?” You ask, your brows furrowed.

Tommy nods. “Don’t keep ‘em waitin’!”

You stand quickly, everyone’s eyes on you as you walk towards the only cabin still standing in the little abandoned settlement the O’Driscolls have claimed. Billy starts with the fiddle again after a while, your nervous steps only carrying you so far so fast. You didn’t think Colm even knew your name.

The cabin door is ajar, but you knock anyway, only stepping partly inside. It’s much warmer here, the fire roaring well in the fireplace compared to the sad one outside. Colm sits in a chair by a small table, leaning back and relaxed. He looks up at you and flicks his eyes to the other chair, a wordless command. You don’t hesitate to follow, shutting the door behind you and sitting just a foot away from him.

He leans forward, sighing lightly. “Quite a job you boys pulled.”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

He chuckles. “Call me Colm, sugar.”

Your heart picks up in your chest. Being alone with your ruthless boss is enough to make you nervous, him being oddly friendly makes you feel a little sick to your stomach from the pins shooting around in there.

“I heard you boys had a little chat while you was gettin’ my money.”

Your mind travels back. It wasn’t anything eventful, just something to fill the silence while you looted the train car.

“Tommy said ya said somethin’ interestin’.”

Instantly you worry that Tommy thinks you said something disloyal. You didn’t, you know you didn’t. The whole conversation was silly, just the boys talking about past… oh. The only somewhat contribution you’d had to the conversation, admitting that you’ve never slept with anyone. All the other boys had been going on about the people they’d slept with, bragging about sizes and body counts, and when the conversation turned to you the truth just came out.

“I-I suppose so, sir--Colm.”

He smiles. “Ain’t nothing wrong with bein’ a virgin, sugar.”

Your skin heats at the word. It shouldn’t matter, but after hearing all the other boys brag it makes you a little embarrassed that you haven’t done anything yet. Colm’s hand touching your knee shakes you from your thoughts. It’s gentle, surprisingly so, and it makes a different kind of heat course through you.

“Of course, if ya wanna change that…” Colm smiles wide and his eyes drag over your body. “I’d be happy ta help ya.”

You feel a surge of want pass through you. Colm is an attractive man and he’s handing an opportunity to you on a platter, but the words don’t quite come. “I…”

Colm’s hand travels up your leg a bit, squeezing your thigh. “I like helping folks, sugar. I’ll be gentle with ya.”

His eyes feel like fire and you can only just make yourself nod under the burning gaze. He smiles wide and leans closer, sitting on the edge of his chair to kiss you. Slowly, his fingers curl into your shirt and he tugs you back as he relaxes in his chair again. He grabs your thigh when you’re close and pulls you into his lap, keeping his lips fixed on yours as his other hand holds the back of your neck. You can feel the stiffness rubbing against you and he urges your hips to move. When you oblige, a gasp escapes you at the new sensation.

“That’s it, good boy.” Colm murmurs. “It feel good?”

You nod, hiding your face in his shoulder as you continue.

“Ya want me ta lay ya down er ya wanna do it yerself?”

It’s a bit surprising, Colm giving you a choice, but you manage an answer with a bit of whine in your voice. “You…You do it.”

Colm presses a kiss to your jaw, his hand squeezing your ass. “I’ll take care a’ ya, sugar.”

He urges you to stand, his fingers lacing into your gunbelt to pull you along to the bed. Your heart races when he turns and his gaze falls to remove the belt. You watch as he does it, following his movements with burning skin as he undresses you himself. He’s careful, gentle like he said he’d be. That fact, along with the graze of his fingers, make you shiver. Colm O’Driscoll being soft, for you.

“Lie down on yer back fer me, darlin’.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek as his hand pushes you forward.

You move with shallow breaths, positioning yourself on his bed and trying to ignore the embarrassing state of your dick bouncing slightly in the open as you settle.

Colm’s eyes rake over you, making you feel unbelievably small and helpless. “Oh.” He groans. “You are damn good lookin’, boy. Nice and untouched, all fer me.”

A noise escapes you of its own volition and you swallow your nerves as you try to smile for him. He opens the drawer of his nightstand, digging out a tin. You watch carefully as he carefully parts your legs, not resisting his manipulation. His focus is between your legs and you watch closely as he scoops the substance from the tin and spreads it over his fingers.

“Might be a little cold, sugar.” He mutters. “Just lemme make ya feel good, be patient.”

You nod slightly, too focused on the slippery look of his fingers to manage much else. He presses on your thigh, spreading you wide before he trails his slick fingers across your taint until he circles at your rim. Your breath catches and he glances up, giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze. You can feel just the tip of his finger push beyond and he circles again, pressing slow and inching another just behind it. You let the noises fall as they may, pressing your head back into Colm’s pillows.

“That’s it, boy.” He chuckles. “I wanna hear how good I’m makin’ ya feel.”

Your brain fogs with slight pain as his fingers intrude where nothing has been, stretching you in a way you’ve never felt. It feels splitting, like it’s not supposed to expand like that, but you try to breathe. Colm told you to be patient. His fingers begin thrusting, moving slowly in and out and you start to feel the shivering pleasure. You press into him, trying to get more of that feeling, but Colm digs his nails into your thigh enough to get your attention.

“Lemme work, darlin’.” Colm warns. “Don’t move here er ya might hurt yerself.”

“S-Sorry, Colm…”

“It’s alright, sugar.” He smiles. “It feel good?”

“Yeah… please-”

“I know, I know. Don’t wanna hurt ya during yer first round, sweetheart.” He rubs softly into the skin that he hurt with his nails. “Just wait. I know what’s best fer ya.”

You nod and look back down to try and see his fingers but he brushes a spot that makes you gasp and throw your head back again. You back arches on instinct and you feel pins throughout your skin for a second.

“That’s it, just let it happen.” He mutters.

He rubs into that spot, his other finger scissoring to work you open. You feel a build, but he stops far too soon and you whine at the loss. As he pulls out, he makes sure to stretch you all the way to the rim. His eyes trail over you, from your spread legs to your  blissed eyes, as he wipes his fingers off on his pants.

“It’s gonna hurt at first, darlin’.” He says, working his gunbelt off and fishing himself out. “Just relax an’ it’ll feel real good, alright?”

You nod, eyes fixed on his dick as it’s exposed. It’s long, flushed dark with arousal, and matched with a set of heavy balls and dark hair. Your own dick twitches at the sight, knowing what’s about to happen.

“Ready, sugar?”

You look up at Colm’s face. He has always been intimidating, a powerful outlaw that could shoot any man before he blinks, but now he’s daunting. The first man to fuck you, to bed you at all, and the look in his eyes makes you feel like you’re staring down a wolf.

All you can do is nod, a light hum coming out.

Colm grins, a hand trailing down your chest until it brushes against your dick and settles on your hip, the other guiding himself to your hole. He presses against you, not pushing inside yet, as he gauges your face. Slowly, with a firm hand on your hip, he pushes past the rim and you feel an aching stretch. You take heavy breaths, staring at the ceiling. Colm bottoms out and pauses, leaning over you to press kisses along your chest and up your neck as you adjust.

He’s breathless as he speaks. “Yer doin’ good, sugar. Ya feel damn good too.”

The feeling of being stretched open is an odd one, but being full is so good. You almost don’t want him to move, not wanting this feeling to ever leave you, but you know that’s not how it usually works. With great difficulty, you attempt to steady your breathing and relax. Colm’s little kisses make your heart flutter, but they are comforting enough to make you settle.

“I’m… I’m ready, Colm.”

Colm pauses his kiss, hovering his lips above your pec. “Ya sure, sweetheart?”

You hum, nodding to confirm as he looks up at you.

“I’ll be slow ta start.” Colm says, kissing your jaw. “Then I’ll fuck ya nice n’ deep, show ya what ya been missin’.”

Before you can do anything, Colm presses his lips to yours and pulls his hips back at the same time. His lips are gentle on yours, heavy and intentional. His hips slide himself back slowly, almost too slow and you desperately want him buried back in deep, but you let him work. With a hand on your hip and another propping himself above you, he makes his pace slow. He slides in and out, swallowing your noises with his kiss. After a few thrusts, his hand travels down to your thigh, lifting it and having you hook your leg around him.

“Ya want it faster, boy?” Colm murmurs against your lips. “What yer boss ta fuck ya fer real for the first time?”

After having your lips covered for so long, you don’t hesitate. “Yes…”

Colm grins, giving you a soft peck as he picks up his pace. “Such a good boy fer me.” He kisses again. “I shoulda fucked ya the second ya joined us, knew you was somethin’ all special an’ innocent.”

His thrusts begin to knock the air out of you, driving deep and fast. You can’t tell if there’s pain anymore at this point, too consumed with Colm’s words and the inching of his fingers as they run along your leg towards your aching dick.

“I the first man ta touch yer dick, boy?” Colm asks, wrapping his fingers gingerly around you and squeezing lightly. “Am I?”

You nod under his gaze and he grins, pressing his lips to yours again. His thumb spreads your precum and he begins to work you in time with his fucking. The sensations are overwhelming, things you’ve never felt before, and your noises are muffled by his lips as you release over his hand and paint his shirt and your bare stomach with cum.

Colm chuckles, smirking as he rests your foreheads together. “Can ya hold out till I’m done, sugar?”

You nod, knowing that with a man like Colm you likely don’t have another option. Colm’s hand leaves your dick and returns to your thigh, pulling you up slightly to fuck you deeper. It feels like too much, everything is so sensitive and you can’t think with your head swimming, but then that heat builds again. Colm’s new angle brushes that nice spot inside you when he thrusts and you start to get blurry vision after a few more hits. Colm’s hips jolt and he fucks into you with a few short thrusts, each one hitting that spot, and he settles himself as deep as he can get with he release.

As he gazes down at you, his dick still pulsing out spurts, he rakes his hand over your sweaty skin until it wraps around your dick. “Didn’t mean ta get ya goin’ again, darlin’.” He mutters, lazily stroking you.

It’s enough, after all of Colm’s fucking against that spot and the knowledge that he’s filled you up and the gentle feelings he’s displayed, you release again.

“That’s it…” Colm muses. “Ya look so damn good when yer cummin’ fer me, sweetheart.”

He connects your lips again, his soft dick still deep inside you, his hand giving you a few final squeezes. Distracting you with the kiss, he helps you lower your leg back to the bed and very slowly pulls out. He trails the kisses off as he settles beside you, laying on his side as his eyes look over your spent body. His hand trails over your chest, idly running his fingers through your chest hair as you heave for breath.

“Enjoy yerself, boy?”

You know speaking is impossible at this point, so you nod as he turns your head to look over at him.

“Plenty more things ta show ya.” Colm drawls, his hand lightly squeezing at your pec. “Still plenty a’ ways yer a virgin, sugar, but I’ll show ya”

You know the look on your face must be stupid because Colm smirks at it, moving his eyes down to watch his hand run over your stomach. You never thought it’d be your boss, but here he is, admiring his work.

[aziraphales-library]

Hey, I have two requests, One, can I please get an angsty fic about Crowley falling from heaven, like a fic showing the process of it, preferably on Ao3. And a couple recs for Aziraphale or Crowley raising kids, mpreg is nice I like it, or one where they raise Muriel.

TYSSSSMMMM I LOVE YOU! THIS ACCT ABSOLUTELY AWESOME 10/10!!!

Hello. We have loads of fics on our #the fall and #kid fic tags, so do check those out! Here are a few more recent fics for each tag...

Crowley Falls by A_pile_of_good_things (T)

When an angel Falls, a part of the world dies. It was a truth written in the stars, an immutable law of the cosmos that had held sway since the dawn of creation. And on that fateful day when Crowley plummeted from grace, the world itself seemed to shudder in response to the loss. The demon in the making would later say that he did not as much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards, but that is not the truth. He is a demon, after all, and demons lie. OR A vignette describing Crowley's Fall, while Aziraphale watches. I wrote it for a Fictober prompt no. 2: 'Don't worry, I got you.'

She Gave It A Try (She Closed Her Eyes) by orphan_account (T)

A dreadfully divine creature waits at the precipice of demise, an oxymoronic statement that will most likely never be used again. OR The hours before and after Crowley falls

The Temptation of the Starmaker by koala2all (T)

Crowley wasn't always a demon. Once he was the Starmaker... an angel in Heaven, powerful, innocent, and joyful. Crowley has never told the story of how he was led to his Fall to anyone... well, not the true story, anyway. But when Aziraphale admitted to feeling responsible, Crowley knows the time has come to share that part of himself he's kept secret since Before the Beginning. Remembering how Lucifer Morningstar led him astray will be painful... And even worse, the truth might be enough to push Aziraphale away.

Open Your Heart To The Unexpected by Ombra_la_lupa (G)

Appalled by the sheer stupidity of the nuns, Crowley takes matters in his own (and his life partner’s) hands. “I’m afraid we’re quite definitely closed.” “Aziraphale, it’s me. We need to talk.” “Yes… Yes, I rather think we do. I assume this is about…?” “Armageddon, yes. I’m coming to the bookshop now.” The aforementioned hell spawn chose that moment to start crying at the top of his lungs. “Crowley, is that… Is that a baby?” “Uuuh”, hesitated the demon, looking at the distraught, tear-streaked and bright red little face visible from the open lid of the basket at his feet. “Kinda?”

baby blues by catfishcigarettecard (T)

Aziraphale finds an abandoned baby and can't help but try to rescue the little cherub as best he can. Crowley is dragged along for the ride and shows a rare side of himself.

The Second Coming That Wasn't (Or Was It?) by polymona (T)

Aziraphale is surprised with a chat from God. Crowley is confused as to why any human would just abandon their newborn in front of a bookshop of all places. When the forces of Above or Below find out what has just been set in motion, there will be both Heaven and Hell to pay. If God can be a woman, so can Jesus.

- Mod D

[lovebugism]

eddie fucking you in the back of his van whilst it’s raining😫

hope you like it lovie!! — after a series of ruined date nights, eddie makes up for another failure the only way he knows how (established relationship, smut 18+, 1.4k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie was gonna take you out, come hell or high water — literally.

It was like the universe was conjuring up ways to keep you apart. He tries to plan a date night with you, and suddenly you have to pick up your coworker’s extra shift and the brakes in his van don’t work anymore.

He takes you to a drive-in to see some black-and-white horror movie, and for the first time in weeks, things are actually looking pretty good. With some candy he brought from home, the two of you settle under the covers in the back of his van, lazing against one another as the projector flickers on.

And then it just starts fucking pouring.

It’s like he blinks and the whole thing gets canceled and the entire parking lot is empty.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” he grumbles under his breath, not unlike the black storm clouds rolling overhead.

You giggle at his dramatics. The heavenly sound melts with the wild cadence of rain, tapping rhythmically against the rusted tin roof of the van. 

You’re still being a good sport about the whole thing despite the circumstances. You don’t care what you’re doing, really. You’re happy just doing nothing with Eddie. 

“They refunded us for next week. We can just come back Saturday.”

“I wanted to do it this Saturday,” he whines, all boyishly angry. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leans his head back and bares his milky white neck. “This was supposed to be our night together— why does everything have to get so fucked all the time?”

“It’s not like everything’s totally ruined,” you assure him, practically cooing as you smooth out the frown between his brows with your thumb. “At least we’re together. Who cares about the rest of it?”

“I know, but… You were really excited about it. And I was really excited to watch you watch the movie.”

Eddie tries to be serious, but he’s grinning the second he makes you laugh.

“Shut up…”

“I mean it,” he tells you, serious and quiet with it. His cheek squishes against his shoulder when he pouts at you. “I think I might be heartbroken, babe.”

You know what he’s playing at. You lean into it, anyway.

“Yeah?” you hum with narrowed eyes.

He nods.

“Want me to make it better?”

“Please?”

You close the short distance between you to press a kiss to his mouth. It’s the chastest little peck — you’re practically gone the second you’re there. Eddie chases you when you pull away, tasting of nicotine and pink starbursts when he kisses you deeper.

You get lost in him like it’s nothing, sighing when his soft tongue juts gently against your own. He’s sucking softly at your bottom lip one second, and the next, you’re lying on a pile of fuzzy blankets.

His rings and cold knuckles brush your sides when he tugs at the hem of your shirt, a silent plea for its removal. You come to then, pulling back from him with a low click sounding between your kissed mouths.

“Wait…”

“What?” he wonders, lips rosy and swollen. His deep, chocolate eyes dart between both of yours, looking for any sign that something might be wrong.

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“No— Everyone already left.”

He’s breathless from having been kissed so ardently. He leans down for more anyway. His stomach twists with rejection when you press against his shoulders to stop him.

With a sigh, he concedes and rises off of you again. His shirt is wrinkled and skewed around his neck from your passionate touches. Still on his knees, he reaches for the metal handle of the back door and shouts into the roaring rain — “Hello? Anyone out here?”

“Eddie!” you shout, giggling and jerking backward when rogue droplets sprinkle inside.

The van shakes when he slams the door shut again.

“See?” he lilts with a lopsided grin. “No one.”

You shake your head at him. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“You love me, though,” he mutters as he settles back over you. The weight of his body is warm against your own. With your hands on his sides, you pull him somehow closer.

“Unfortunately…” you gripe, kissing the breath from his lungs a second later.

When he reaches for the hem of your shirt again, you let him take it off.

—————

The thundering rain against the roof almost drowns out your gentle moans. Eddie’s glad you’re breathing them right into his ear, so he can hear everything he’s doing to you. 

His thrusts are slow and measured. Almost painfully unrushed. He shushes your begging to go faster — “Just let me make you feel good,” he mutters, slurred and low, “Let me hit that spot.” He pierces you with his cock, tilting his hips to hit deep inside you until you make a pretty noise for him, then he creeps back out again.

He never pulls all the way out, though, ‘cause he might die if he left the warm velvet you are around him. He keeps his pelvis pressed intently against your own, the coarse hair at the base of his cock steady on your pussy. The pressure against your clit is merciless.

“Put your legs around me, baby,” he mumbles against your mouth because he knows the different angle will make it better for you. 

He almost smirks when you obey him without thinking, but his mouth parts with an unexpected moan before he can. You pull your knees back and tuck your ankles around his waist, heels pressing gently above his ass. 

Your cunt widens and suckles him further in.

Eddie grumbles a hearty, poorly muffled moan into your neck.

“There you go— just like that,” he praises. “Doing so good for me, pretty. Always so good for me.”

You whine again, high and light, like the praise is equally as pleasurable as his cock.

His metal chain glides between your breasts when he pulls back from you. He tucks his ringed fingers into your waist and sits back on his haunches, balls resting warm and wet against your ass. He keeps rocking into you, unhurried.

“What happened to that mouth you had before, huh?” Eddie wonders, still breathless.

He smirks when you moan in response. He knows you don’t have the words to answer him. He knows he’s fucked you far too stupid.

“Thought I was incorrigible, remember? What happened to that?”

Your mouth parts in a silent whimper, back arching and brows pinching when his cock hits deeper than you think he’s ever been. The pleasure feels borderline electric — makes your spine tingle and your legs go numb.

“Yeah… For someone who loves mouthing off—” Eddie continues to tease despite his breathlessness. You clench around him, and he has to remember to exhale. “—You open up so easily for me. Don’t ya, honey?” 

You wanna say something. You think you almost do. But his thrusts are as merciless as they are slow. He presses impossibly deep within you and keeps hitting that spot until you tremble. The words get caught in your throat, along with a silent moan.

“That’s okay, honey. Just let me fuck you. Let me make you feel good,” Eddie slurs, mumbling like he’s talking to himself. “Go dumb for me like you always do. So perfect at that— god.”

He tilts his head back to howl a groan. Through fluttering lashes and a blurry vision, you see his clenched jaw and taut neck and heaving chest. 

Eddie always talks a big game when he gets you all sweet and pliable underneath him. He loves to be dominant while he tears you apart, but as his own orgasm crawls up his spine, his true colors start to show.

He leans back over you again, caging you beneath his warm weight. He stops hiding his pathetic whines and whimpers and instead buries them into your sweat-slick shoulder. He babbles in your ear, a bunch of garbled nothingness because words are starting to lose meaning.

“Fuck, honey. Oh, fuck— you’re so fucking— shit. You’re so goddamn pretty, baby, you know that? So good for me. So soft, too. Shit. This pussy’s gonna kill me.”

He tucks his face into your neck and tries to kiss you through his whines. His ringed fingers crawl behind your back, holding you like his life depends on it while his measured thrusts grow rapid and sloppy. 

Eddie begs you to cum, or rather demands it because he can feel himself about to explode. “Cum— Cum for me— right fucking now.”

You do. You’ve been hanging by a thread the whole time, really. And like you expected, Eddie’s not too far behind you. Your unabashed moans entwine, mixing with the wild cadence of the rain against the tin roof of the rocking van.

[thus-spoke-lo]

Pretty Little Mess // Doflamingo Donquixote x afab!reader // NSFW/18+ Kinks: Piss kink + degradation/humiliation

CW: dubcon; afab!reader [no pronouns used]; alcohol use to drunkenness [reader + doffy]; cockwarming; piss kink [omorashi/bladder control]; unprotected vaginal intercourse; desperation; begging; degradation and humiliation; doflamingo is his own content warning™ WC: 2.3k // Fictober Masterlist

It started with a bottle of wine, as it often did with Doflamingo—he enticed you into his office, crooking his finger in a come-hither motion and running his tongue across his lips, watching you saunter across the room, looking for that telltale sway in your hips, the one that always ensured you got your way. He was bored, he groaned as he pulled you towards him, tired of paperwork and planning and long, rambling phone calls with unimportant government men who would never amount anything in their futile little lives; your god was no longer interested in trivial matters, and demanded distraction from his favorite disciple. He ran an ill-intentioned hand up the back of your thigh, pushing up your dress until he cupped your ass, and whispered hotly to get a bottle (or two, or three) of that wine you liked, the one that made you extra warm and sweet and pliable, the one that you’d tasted of the first time he’d kissed you and the first time he’d had you in his bed.

And after a glass (or two, or three) of that exquisite wine, he’d easily maneuvered you into his lap, spreading your willing legs open across his thighs and yanking your panties to the side, pulling his trousers down just enough to ease his hardening cock inside you. He directed you to sit still, to let him enjoy the warmth of your pretty little cunt for a while as he sipped his wine and pored over papers that all seemed to look the same after a while. You happily obliged, and grew warmer and warmer from the alcohol that he poured into your waiting mouth and from the hard pulse of his arousal deep inside you, closing your eyes and silently begging for him to ruin you as he toyed with you, slowly rocking himself into you deeper until you moaned for him, just the way he liked.

And now, here you sit, leaning back against his chest, tugging at his shirtsleeve and grinding yourself down onto him now and again, just enough to make him cluck his tongue and tap your cheek and tell you to calm yourself, that you’ll have what you desire soon enough. But you’re impatient, and you’re needy, and there’s something about the way the taps grow sharper and sting your flesh and his fingers start to wrap around your neck every time you disobey that makes it harder to control yourself, harder to resist just fucking yourself on his thick cock and taking the pleasure he denies you. It’s becoming especially hard to sit patiently, his shaft filling you to the hilt, his fingers roaming your body to squeeze and grope at you until you whine, with the sudden urgency that grows in your abdomen, your bladder growing full from too many glasses of that damned wine.

You try to carefully move yourself off him, pushing against his desk with shaky hands, already dreading the emptiness of not having him inside you; you need to escape, if only for a moment, just to run off and relieve yourself of this ache—even if it was pleasurable, in a perverse sort of way. As you start to lift yourself off him, Doflamingo’s thick arm snakes around your waist and pulls you back down onto his massive length and you stifle a yelp, the pressure of his forearm and the thrust of his cock almost enough to make you lose control.

“And just where do you think you’re going, pretty pet?” he murmurs, leaning down to run his tongue along the shell of your ear.

“I need”—the air is pushed out of you as he shifts and pulls your back flush against his chest again—“I just need to get up for a minute.”

“I don’t remember saying you could get up,” he coos condescendingly, lightly pinching your nipple through the thin fabric of your dress, his cock pulsing as you squeal. “You’ll stay right here until I say we’re through—and we’re far from through.”

“Please, just for a minute, I’ll be right back.” The ardent need to be fucked and cum on his cock and the painful need to empty your bladder are beginning to overlap, making your brain fill with static and your body twist and move of its own accord. “Please, I need to—need to go.”

“Oh?” You can hear a grin creeping across his lips as he utters the word, and it’s clear he has a very good idea of why it is you’re beginning to squirm so pathetically in his lap. “Go where, little pet? You seem awfully distressed.”

“Stop it, you know where.” You already regret the way the words come out of you, laced with the kind of snark that will have you strung up for a while later, but the maddening mix of arousal and fullness have all but erased your composure.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t. Where would you rather be than right here with my hands on you?” Doflamingo pushes his cock up into you sharply until knocks against your cervix, and you almost feel yourself burst from the pressure. “Tell me, brat.”

“I—I need to go to the bathroom.” Tears start to form at the corners of your eyes, frustration welling inside you. You hate that he made you say it, despite the fact that he already knows; you hate even more that the embarrassment that begins to settle in your bones makes your clit pulse and your aching legs tremble. He knows all too well just how to push you, the tone he needs to use to make your face flush and your body quiver with a burning feeling of shame, the kind that makes your needy cunt drip down his shaft.

“Is that so?” An ominous laugh leaves his lungs and echoes in the room, eclipsing your soft whines and wails of discomfort. Pressure and pleasure spike as he palms your abdomen, pressing over your bladder lightly, almost delicately—a gentleness you sense won’t last for long. “I just don’t know if I should let you—you’re so cute when you’re desperate like this.”

“Please just let me go,” you whimper, lips fixed in a pout as you start to sniffle. “I don’t think I can hold it much longer.”

“Well you’re going to have to, brat—I’m not done with you yet.”

He holds you against him with one steel-cabled arm, his forearm pressing into your ribcage, while his other moves between your legs, thick fingers dipping past the waistband of your panties and settling on your mound. He tugs at your swollen lips, hisses at how you flutter around his cock with every touch, and presses two fingers over your clit. Something unintelligible tumbles out of your open mouth and you heave against him, jolts of pleasure running through your limbs. You can almost feel the slick dribbling out of you and coating the base of his cock as he plays with you, working you quickly into a rapturous high that has you teetering on the edge of release.

“Please.” The word is hushed, barely audible, as you keen, still writhing helplessly against him. It’s almost impossible now to maintain any sense of calm, and a faint trickle flows out of you as your walls flutter around his thick shaft; the rest, you fear, isn’t far behind.

“Please? Please what?” Doflamingo mocks you cruelly, his movements quickening over your swollen bud. “You want to cum so badly, I thought I’d help my desperate little brat. Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t this why you can’t stop fucking yourself on me like a whore—even when you’re about to piss yourself?”

You grasp at his arm, clawing at his skin, babbling something that sounds like “stop” through stuttering gasps, even though you don’t think you want him to—there’s no point anymore, and more than you need to empty your bladder, you need to cum. He bucks his hips into you as he urges you closer and closer to your peak, his cock pressing against the fullness of your bladder until it hurts, until your muscles start to tense and everything feels too much and you start to sob his name, a kind of hysterical prayer that your god will be merciful to you.

“Aw, don’t cry, little pet—you’re just too weak to control yourself, aren’t you?” The arm that holds you against him loosens and he slides his wide hand down, planting it firmly on your abdomen, and you feel liquid starting to dribble out of you, even as your body tightens and your climax nears—you’re just as weak as he says. “You’re so damned pathetic, it’s adorable.”

You’re seized by a rush of sensation so intense that your body jerks, saved from doubling over by the forearm pushing into your stomach, and your legs press down against his. The tensing and tightening in your muscles finally release and you shudder and spasm around his cock, hot tears flooding down your face as your climax overwhelms you and the last vestiges of self-control dissolve.

“I can’t—ca-an’t hold it,” you stammer through panting breaths as wave after wave of pleasure move through you.

You can barely hear him, everything muffled as though you’re underwater, but you can just make out refrains of then don’t and let go and come on, brat being hissed into your ear before he finally sighs and that goddamned cruel laugh manages to break through your haze and he taunts: “Do I have to do everything for you?”

Doflamingo presses down hard over your bladder, and your weakened body finally gives out; an embarrassed whimper passes your lips when the trickling starts, quickly devolving into a torrent as urine cascades out of you, soaking your panties and wetting his fingers that still rest on your pulsing clit. He keeps making circles over your tender bundle of nerves even as you wither in indignity in his lap, uncontrollable mewls and moans tumbling from you with every spasm that interrupts your stream, the overlapping orgasm stretching on almost painfully until you finally feel yourself empty completely.

A sharp “fuck” is the only thing you hear through the humiliating sound of your piss dripping onto the stone floor beneath you through your sodden panties, a puddle of shame pooling at his feet. Your eyes roll back and you slump against him, your every nerve firing, fighting for every quick and shallow breath you can pull from your lungs between anguished sobs. The sound of his perverse cackle rings in your ears as you lay against him, slack-jawed and pleasure-drunk, trying to ignore the impending feeling of regret that creeps up your spine.

“What a filthy little brat you are,” Doflamingo laughs, pulling his hand out of your piss-drenched panties and wiping his fingers on your dress. “Such a fucking mess.”

You start to form a half-hearted apology, but it’s cut short as the hand that had been wrapped around your waist raises to cover your mouth, pulling your head back against him. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and long, low groans reverberate in his chest. His moans are loud and wanton as he starts to rock up into you, his thrusts slow at first, then almost feverish; it’s like he’s possessed by something, a compulsion to ruin you when you’ve already managed to ruin yourself.

“You drenched your panties—and my pants—and my nice fucking chair,” he grunts, every other word punctuated by a sharp thrust, “all because you can’t control yourself.”

You plead for mercy against Doflamingo’s palm, but he doesn’t acknowledge you, only tightens his grip on your face, fingertips pressing into the softness of your tear-drenched cheeks. He slams into you over and over until your teeth clench and your eyes scrunch shut, until your lower half aches and your legs threaten to go numb, until your cries echo in the small room, almost eclipsed by the increasingly debauched sounds that leave his sinful lips. It’s not long until his hips shudder and he groans your name, his cock throbbing uncontrollably and pumping your sore cunt full of his spend. He fucks you through every last spasm, until it’s gushing out of you, until it’s leaking down his shaft and mixing with the wetness that already permeates your panties and his trousers.

He loosens his grip at last as he eases himself out of you, before picking you up and turning you around to face him, a few low chuckles escaping him in between ragged, gasping breaths. He engulfs you with a sudden, devastating kiss, his long tongue pushing past your lips and entangling with yours, and settles you on his soaked thighs again, some spots already cooling in the air of the room, the damp fabric sticking to your legs. His cock, coated in the sticky mix of your juices, lays against your belly, making a darkened wet spot on the front of your dress. He presses you to his chest and rubs your back as you sob, body flooded with a potent mix of lingering arousal and shame, of satisfaction and utter disgrace.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper between gasping sobs, begging for forgiveness from your god. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweet pet—you’re perfect.” His voice is soft, his touches gentle and warm, and he shushes while you hiccup and sniffle against his flushed skin. Doflamingo presses a kiss to the crown of your head, then hums contentedly; you listen to it rumble in his chest, mixing with the deep thuds of his heart. “My pretty little mess.”

[baronessblixen]

For the last time...

Prompt: 1. "It's not too late, let's go."

IVF arc, angsty fluff: They're supposed to go to the Gunmen's Halloween party, but there's something they need to make sure of first. (wc: 1,320)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 31: Trick or Treat

When she asks Mulder what she can bring to the Gunmen’s annual Halloween party, she doesn’t expect him to say paper towels. But he does. She repeats the word, and he laughs, saying yes, paper towels and he’ll explain later. That is why she’s at the drugstore at 5 p.m., looking for said paper towels. Except she’s in the wrong aisle. In front of her are pictures of smiling women, chubby-cheeked babies, and blue skies.

Pregnancy tests.

At first, she just stares at them. She just took a wrong turn and now she’s confused as to why there are pregnancy tests. Then, she takes one from the shelf. Just to see what it says. This isn’t the first time she’s buying a test. If she’s buying one, anyway. She bought one once, when she was in college where she prayed every night that she wasn’t pregnant. Another one a few weeks ago, and this time praying that she was. In the end, she’d been pregnant neither time. Third time’s the charm, she thinks.

“Paper towels,” she mumbles, reminding herself why she's really here, but she’s unable to leave the aisle. Her period is late. Has been for a few days. She didn’t think much of it – still doesn’t. It’s been late before. With their job, it seems a given. And yet.

She stares at the boxes and she thinks of Mulder. They only just started being intimate. She can still count their sexual encounters on one hand. That’s how new it is. Just thinking of him makes her feel warm all over. Somewhere across town, he’s getting ready for the Halloween party at the Gunmen's, unaware of what she’s going through. ‘We don’t need condoms’, she’d said that first time. Maybe, she thinks, glaring at the boxes, she was wrong.

She decides to buy a test. An emergency pregnancy test, so to speak. She quickly makes her way through the store, picking up the paper towels, and a bag of candy corn, suddenly craving the overly sugary treat. She pays for everything and hides the pregnancy test at the bottom of her bag. It’s in there just in case, after all.

At home, she puts the pregnancy test and its implications out of her mind. But every once in a while, she glances at her bag, where the test remains hidden. She snacks on the candy corn while she gets ready and waits for Mulder.

“Trick or treat.” A voice that’s distinctively Mulder’s follows after a series of knocks. Scully smiles, opening the door to him. He’s surrounded by several small kids, all grinning up at her, some of them with missing teeth. There’s a little Batman, a Spiderman, and a witch. Luckily, she prepared a bowl with candy and she hands each child some of it, and every single one thanks her. Watching them, she tears up, her hormones overwhelming her.

“Have a spooky night,” Mulder says to them and they giggle as they make their way to the next apartment.

“Hey you,” he says, but his smile quickly fades. “Scully? Are you okay?” She nods, turning away from him because she’s convinced she will start crying any second. She hears the door click close and Mulder follows her inside. He’s gentle as he puts his arms around her from behind.

“What is it?” he whispers into her ear. “Did something happen?”

“No,” she replies truthfully. “I think I’m just tired.” She doesn’t want to burden Mulder with possibilities. Or pipe dreams. She isn’t pregnant. She can’t be pregnant. Buying that test was the worst idea she’s had in a long time.

“We can just stay in,” he says. “Hand out candy to the kids, go to bed early.”

“We’re not 80, Mulder,” she says, finding herself chuckling. She hopes they’re still doing this in 10 years, in 20. Maybe even when they’re 80.

“I know we aren’t.” He waggles his eyebrows at her. “I can think of lots of things we can do staying home.” He’s nuzzling her neck, his nose tickling her skin. She playfully pushes him away and he just grins at her with a dreamy look. What if their child smiles that exact same way? Her expression falters. There is no what if. There’s no child.

“Hey, what did I say? I know it’s Halloween, but you’re scaring the shit out of me.” Instead of answering him, she picks up her bag and hands it to him.

“Look inside,” she says quietly. He takes out the paper towels and then gasps. His eyes shoot up and meet hers.

“Is that- did you take it? Are you? Is it? Are you all right, Scully?”

“I didn’t take it. I don’t know why I bought it. I’m late, and I- I just stood there and I got it just in case. It was a dumb idea.”

“Since when do you eat candy corn?” Mulder asks and for a moment she’s perplexed. He points at the small bowl on the table. “You hate that stuff.” Unlike him, who stuffs one of the colorful treats into his mouth.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I felt like eating it.”

“Take the test, Scully,” he says, pressing the box into her hand. “I think… I think maybe today is a good day to test fate.”

“The Gunmen are expecting us.”

“They can wait. This can’t.”

“It’s not too late,” she says, trying to tug at his sleeve. “Let’s go.” He slowly shakes his head at her. It’s now or never.

“I’ll even hold your hand.”

“While I pee?”

“If that’s what you want,” he says solemnly.

“You can hold my hand after.”

And that’s what he does. His hand is sweaty, and she feels the restlessness inside him. If he weren't holding her hand, he'd be pacing. But she needs his strength, and he gives it to her willingly.

“Do you want me to talk?” he asks. “Or be quiet? I can do either.”

“You can talk, Mulder,” she says softly, smiling.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s a first.”

“This is too important,” he says. “I don’t want to jinx it. Which one do you think did it?” She turns to look at him. “I think it was the second time. Not the first. We didn’t know what we were doing. The second time. I think that’s when it took.”

“Mulder, we don’t know what the test is gonna say.”

“When have I ever been wrong? About anything that’s important?” She wants him to be right. She’s never wanted anything as much as this. “Your hand is ice-cold, Scully.”

“I’m nervous.”

“So am I, but I have a good feeling. A very good feeling. How much longer?” A moment later, the alarm dings. Scully’s heart races in her chest. The next second will change everything. The greatest joy or the biggest disappointment.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she says, her voice breaking. “Can you look?”

“You want me to do it? Are you sure?” She nods, tears in her eyes. She watches Mulder reach for the test with trembling hands. Her eyes are on his face, trying to read it. He blinks at the small plastic stick before he turns to her. “Trick or treat, Scully?”

“What?” she asks.

“Trick or treat,” he repeats, trying to keep his face neutral. But there’s something. A glimmer. Her heart is still racing, but she’s going to take a chance.

“Treat,” she says.

He shows the test to her, his hand shaking. “We’re gonna have a child,” he says with a laugh.

“We’re,” she begins, breaking off. She takes the test from him and there it is. Clear as day. She’s pregnant.

“I knew it when I saw the candy corn,” he says, taking her into his arms. “You’re pregnant, Scully. We did it. We got our miracle.”

“We did,” she says, still in awe. “We really did it.”

[captainsophiestark]

Happy Ending

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Day 22 Prompt: "Who takes care of you?"

Summary: What if Luke had come by to see Y/N, his pre-betrayal best friend and SO, instead of Annabeth between books 3 and 4?

Word Count: 4,189

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: I really loved the vibes of this post by @m4gp13 so this is very loosely inspired by it, even though the main body of the story doesn't have much to do with it lol

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, staring at the piles of boxes on the floor of my dorm room. The spring semester of my second year of college was just coming to a close, and I still had a lot to do to be ready for everything after it finished. I was moving into my own apartment for the summer, and needed to move from the dorm room to my new apartment. As soon as that was over, I'd planned a visit to Camp Half-Blood, the training camp for heroes I kept going back to, even though I was technically an adult.

I needed to pack everything in my dorm, move it to my apartment, and then be able to unpack everything I'd need for a few weeks visiting camp. This packing job would need to be strategically worthy of Athena.

I'd just barely managed to psych myself up to get started when a knock came at my door. I huffed a sigh, but I really didn't mind the distraction all that much.

"Coming!" I called. I glanced out the peep hole, then froze solid when I saw Luke Castellan staring back at me.

My heart stopped dead in my chest. I looked again and saw he had no monsters with him, at least not visibly, but I couldn't understand why he would come here without them.

Luke had been one of my closest friends in the world since we met as kids, on the run together from our mutually shitty families. We'd met first, then found Thalia and Annabeth after. Luke and I were the same age, and we'd been thick as thieves since day one, Hermes pun intended. As we'd gotten older, a small crush I'd had on Luke had grown massive, and luckily for me he'd returned my feelings. We'd been happily dating and in love ever since, until two summers ago, when he'd betrayed me and every single one of our friends and joined Kronos.

I'd barely talked to him since. We only had contact once and a while, and every time, it went the same way. I was hurt, he was apologetic but not willing to change any of his decisions. Me and the rest of Camp fought him and his monsters, and I tried not to fall apart at the loss of the love of my life.

The distraction provided by college had been a serious, serious relief.

But now, Luke was here. In the middle of space where I very intentionally avoided thinking about him, on my doorstep for whatever reason. And I had no idea what to do.

"Y/N? I know you're in there. I'm here under a flag of truce. I just want to talk."

Just like that, any desire to duck and hide crumbled. The rational part of my brain screamed at me that he could be lying, that this might just be a trap, but I ignored it. After everything we'd been through, if Luke said he wanted to talk, I wanted to hear him out.

I opened the door, and Luke's shoulders sagged with relief when he saw me. I wanted to dart forward and wrap him in a hug, something I hadn't been able to do in two years, but I held myself back. Luke shifted a little from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward, so after a second's hesitation I stepped to the side.

"Would you like to come in?"

He gave me a suspicious look, like he thought it was a trap or a trick or something. My heart shattered in my chest. How had things gone this wrong, that we stood on opposite sides of the door as basically strangers?

"My house is a mess, because I'm in the middle of packing up to move, but... if you want to talk, Luke, I feel like the hallway isn't gonna be the best place to do it."

He gave me a curt nod, not quite meeting my eyes as he walked past me into my apartment. I glanced down the hallway, taking one last look to make sure we didn't have any lingering monsters, but things were deserted. I sighed and went back into my apartment, closing the door behind me.

I found Luke hovering in the space between the kitchen and the living room, surveying things with a strange look on his face. I moved toward him carefully, not getting too close in case I spooked him.

"Do you want some tea or something? I haven't packed my electric kettle yet-"

"I think tea might take longer than the five minutes I promised."

I turned to look at Luke, raising one eyebrow in challenge, a little bit of our old rapport back. He shifted his weight around and glanced towards the door, then met my eyes again.

"Luke... is some giant monster going to burst through my door in five minutes? Or an army of small monsters, or anything under that general monster-army umbrella?"

"What? No, no, there's... no. I'm here under a flag of truce. There's nothing coming to hurt you, and when I leave... I'll leave."

"Okay then," I said, deciding not to comment on just how shaken and pale Luke looked, at least not right now. "Then I'm giving you a pass on the five minutes. And electric kettles take like two seconds anyway, seriously. They're magical."

Luke huffed, shaking his head as an incredulous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. My heart squeezed, but I made myself move towards the kitchen and act like things were normal.

"Take a seat, Luke. Or come pick your tea."

Luke took the second option, and my heart doubled its speed when I felt him hovering behind me, closer than we'd been in a long time if you didn't count combat. He leaned over my shoulder to point to the bag of black tea on my counter, and I nodded as I poured the hot water into our cups. I dropped two teabags in each of our drinks, then turned to Luke with a smile.

He stood a little more than a foot from me, and he took the cup from my hands carefully, like he didn't want this bubble of peace and normalcy to burst either. I stared into his beautiful, bright blue eyes, a smile growing on my face again despite myself. I'd missed this. A lot.

The moment lasted another few seconds, and then Luke cleared his throat and looked away. He took a tentative sip of his tea, then looked at me again, his face deadly serious.

"I don't know how to say this. I... I learned some things recently, about some plans I wasn't aware of before."

He paused and took another sip of his tea, and his hand shook a little as he brought the mug away from his lips. Shock coursed through my body as I realized Luke was scared.

"Kronos, he- he's going to use me. He's going to use me to take over the world. This summer... he's going to use me like a stepping stone, until he gets so much power he's unstoppable."

"Luke... what are you saying?"

His eyes had wandered to stare holes in the wall of my kitchen while he'd talked, but now they snapped back to me, wide and full of urgency.

"I'm saying I want to run away. I want us to run away, like the old days. Before... before he gets the chance to carry out his plan."

I stared at Luke for a few minutes, then shook my head, scoffing and pushing past him into the living room of my house. I paced a little, trying to make sense of what he'd just told me. What he'd just asked of me.

"Luke... I don't know what to say!" I finally admitted, completely honest as I turned back to him. He watched me, his expression guarded. "I don't... I don't think I can just run away. Not from the life I've managed to build, not from our friends still here and risking their lives!"

"So that's it, then?" he asked, taking a few steps forward, his tone angry. "Your answer's no?"

I huffed a laugh, staring at anything in the room except for Luke and trying to think. My brain was working a million miles an hour, but I still needed a little bit of time to think things through. But I wasn't sure I had time.

"Okay, Luke, can we sit down for a minute? Actually talk about this?" I said, taking slow steps towards him. I set my mug down on the nearest table, then reached out to gently rest my hands on his. A storm of emotions raged behind his eyes, but he didn't stop me or pull away. "This is a lot to take in all at once. Can we work through this together?"

His jaw worked like he was holding back some retort, but he let me pull him along towards the couch. Slowly, together, we sank down onto the cushions. I only pulled one hand back, and made sure our knees rested against each other, hoping it would do something to help keep Luke grounded.

"I don't want to run," I said simply, meeting his eyes. He opened his mouth, looking ready with an outburst again, but I continued before he could. "But Luke, think about it. Where are we gonna go that he doesn't find you, especially if he wants to? Monsters can sniff us out. We'd never, ever be able to live another day without looking over our shoulders."

Luke's shoulders sagged, and he shook his head miserably as he stared at the half-full mug in his hand.

"Then there's no hope."

"That's not what I said. And it's also not true." Luke scoffed, shooting me a look out of the corner of his eye. I looked right back. "If you don't want to follow through on what Kronos is asking of you, why not just come back with me? To Camp, to my somewhat normal life. I have an apartment with space for two. You could even enroll with me next semester, if you wanted to."

Luke shook his head. He pursed his lips as he raised his head to meet my eyes again.

"And let the Olympians continue exploiting us? Let them keep destroying people and lives because we don't matter to them?"

I huffed a sigh. "Look, I'm not their biggest fan either, but right now it seems like it's 'let Kronos kill you' or 'stop fighting the Olympians'."

Luke shook his head again, more energized this time, more angry. He stared at the wall ahead of us, the same hurt and bitterness I'd seen from him over the years burning in his eyes.

"It's just not right. There should be something we can do. Something that isn't Kronos, but isn't letting the Olympians win."

And just like that, a lightbulb went off in my head.

"Luke... what if there was a way we could do that?"

****************

That night, Luke and I stayed up until almost two in the morning brainstorming and working out the details of my plan. When we finally decided to get some sleep, he stayed with me, and curling up in the same tiny twin bed, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, had me more at peace and ease than I had been in a long, long time.

The next morning, we finalized a few things over breakfast. Then, there was nothing left to do but put our plan into action.

Luke stayed in the apartment, tasked with keeping his head down and finishing packing for me, since I had other places I had to be. Namely, Camp Half-Blood. A little earlier than I'd talked about with Chiron, and hopefully, before the place was crawling with campers for the summer.

Thankfully, it didn't take me too long to get to Camp. I arrived a little after lunch and found the place expectedly deserted. From the top of the hill, I could see some of the year-rounders moving around the lake. I tried to keep them from noticing me as I headed straight for the Big House.

I paused just outside the front door to steel my nerves one last time, then marched inside. I found Chiron and Mr. D sitting together, apparently deep in conference. They both looked up when they noticed me, matching looks of surprise on their faces (although Chiron's had a noticeably happier edge to it).

"Y/N! We weren't expecting you for another few weeks-"

"I'm not staying for long. Something just came up that I needed to talk to you about right away. To both of you, actually, especially Mr. D."

He raised a bored eyebrow in my direction but otherwise didn't move. Chiron motioned to a chair at the table.

"By all means, please."

"That's alright, I think I'll stand," I said. I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and straightening my spine. I would not back down, wouldn't leave until I'd succeeded. Luke and I's future depended on it.

I took a moment to make very intentional, determined eye contact with Mr. D. His other eyebrow raised.

"I'm here to bargain for a pardon for Luke Castellan."

Silence. Both Chiron and Mr. D just stared at me for a few long moments, then turned to look at each other. Chiron looked concerned, but Mr. D burst out laughing.

"He's a traitor and an enemy of Olympus! This has all been very boring and ridiculous, and a waste of our time. Get out."

Mr. D's last word had a firey threat behind it, but I didn't flinch.

"You and the rest of the Olympians are perfectly aware what a threat Kronos presents. Everybody's getting scared, and they should be. He's got a plan for returning to his Titan form, the one he had before he was defeated the first time, before Zeus cut him apart and cast him into Tartarus. And it's a plan that he can definitely make succeed.

"Luke knows all about this plan. Obviously. And he's willing to defect and tell you all about it, so we can stop it before it happens. But you have to give him a complete pardon, sworn on the River Styx by Zeus."

Mr. D snorted again, this time raising from his chair and taking a few threatening steps towards me. I still didn't back down.

"Y/N, listen," Chiron interrupted, shuffling forward a little bit to stand partially in between me and Mr. D. "If you have information that could save Olympus and the camp-"

"Oh, I have some. Just like Chris Rodriguez had some. But Luke has all of it. And you're not getting any of it without giving him a pardon first."

"Or we could force it out of you before finding your little boyfriend and doing the same to him," said Mr. D, his tone light but his eyes blazing. Chiron started to step in again, but I spoke up before he got the chance.

"You haven't been able to find him this long, you won't be able to find him now. And anybody who knows anything about interrogations knows that torture just plain and simple doesn't work for getting information." Mr. D grunted, but we both knew I had him there. "Besides, if Luke gets his pardon, that means more than just getting all the information from Kronos' former right hand man. It also means that Kronos loses said right hand man, who's been organizing and leading a lot of the work so far."

Chiron and Mr. D shared a look, and I tried not to let it show just how much my heart was racing. For the first time since I'd walked in here, I actually felt a glimmer of hope that my plan might succeed. Chiron turned back to me, the worried look still on his face.

"Y/N... what makes you so confident that Luke wants to defect?"

"He sought me out," I answered simply, trying to dance around his location at least a bit. "He's realizing quickly just how bad Kronos would and could be, and he's scared. Terrified. He wants a way out, so when he found me, he asked me to run away with him. I suggested trying this plan first, mostly so I don't have to leave behind everyone else I love. But also because, this way, you might stand a chance against Kronos that you wouldn't have if we'd left without offering information."

The conversation continued for almost another hour, centered mostly around Mr. D making threats and, when I didn't back down, reminding me that I was trying to demand something of Zeus. He made plenty of good points, but I'd thought through all the ways this plan could go terribly, painfully wrong with Luke before I'd come here. I wasn't going to give in, for anything.

Finally, after restating my points and my argument a few times, Mr. D agreed to bring my request to Mount Olympus. I waited anxiously in the Big House with Chiron, whose brow remained deeply creased the entire time. I didn't engage, intentionally avoiding the conversation he looked like he wanted to have, but I saw him watching me out of the corner of my eye.

I started to get worried as the evening came, but finally, Mr. D reappeared. The first time he'd delivered his news, I honestly hadn't believed him. I asked him to repeat himself, which he rolled his eyes over, but the words were the same. Somehow, by some miracle, I'd managed to succeed.

Zeus was willing to give Luke his pardon in exchange for information and defecting.

I wasn't a complete idiot, so made sure the terms were clear when Mr. D brought me to Olympus to witness the oath. The words covered any retaliation, punishment, or harm that might come to Luke, and completely prevented it. Zeus spoke the words and the sky rumbled with lightning. I tried not to shake in relief or from the adrenaline dump as I bowed and promised he wouldn't regret his decision. Hermes shot me a grateful look on my way out, and I returned his nod. He'd been awful to Luke, but we were aligned in not wanting to see him dead, and I got the feeling Hermes had been helpful in pleading my case.

When we returned to the Big House, I headed for the door as quickly as possible, promising to bring Luke back with me in a week when I'd been planning to return anyway. I still had to move out and then move in to a new place again, and Luke had assured me that week of time wouldn't cost the war.

I raced back home, breaking almost every traffic law in the process, but I didn't care at all. I called out to Luke from the hallway, so he wouldn't be scared when I flung the door open, then rushed to wrap him in a giant hug. We sank to the floor together, crying in relief, and stayed like that for a long, long time.

The next week felt like a dream. Luke and I finished packing up my old apartment, then moved together into the new one, which we'd started calling 'ours'. We had to duck monsters a few times, and Luke was still in significant danger, but this time we were on the same side. As we settled into our new place on the last night before we were supposed to head back to camp, I quite literally couldn't have been happier.

It was a little strange returning to camp with Luke, but I quickly got over my own concerns when I saw how tense he was. I held his hand the whole way in, and thankfully, we'd still managed to get here before most of the summer campers. Luke and I sat shoulder to shoulder in the Big House while he told Mr. D and Chiron everything about Kronos and his operation. It took hours, and I could tell Luke struggled to get a lot of it out. But he did.

It had taken long enough that we decided to stay the night, even though I could see Luke clearly didn't want to. We stayed in the Big House, and the next morning, we finished the last of the intel-sharing before heading back home.

Chiron stopped Luke on the way out the door with a hand on his shoulder and said he was so happy to have Luke back. Luke just nodded, but I squeezed his hands as I noticed a single tear making its way down his cheek as we left.

"You know..." I said as we climbed in the car. I was driving, and Luke stared determinedly out the window. "Chiron's probably not the only one who'd be happy to have you back. There might be some apology tour type-stuff, but for the most part... I think you'd get a warm welcome home."

Luke just gave a noncommittal grunt, and I let it go. That was a bridge we could cross later.

For now, we still had one final part of our plan to put into action.

The reason Luke had joined Kronos in the first place was because he'd been neglected by his Olympic parent, especially since his mortal parent had been in such a bad place. He'd discovered the hard way that Kronos was no better alternative, but the fact remained that the gods used their mortal children at best, and at worst completely ignored them for their entire lives.

We needed to find a third option, some middle ground way to make things better. So, we decided to be the change we wanted to see.

As legal adults with a newly moved-in apartment that had a decent amount of space, we had the power to make our home a space for demigods who had nowhere else to go. If their immortal parents were neglecting them and things weren't good with their mortal parent either, they could come to us. For a little while, or to stay for good. We made our own little sanctuary, then shared it with all the kids like us who'd needed it.

Over time, the operation expanded, and we moved into a bigger apartment with more space. Thanks in part to Luke and I, Camp Half-Blood won the war, and we were able to do even more once Kronos stopped being a threat. What had started as not much more than a dream of doing good had turned into a loud, busy, happy house with people constantly coming and going.

Which is how we'd ended up in an alleyway talking to a scared teenager, after helping defeat a monster who'd been bearing down on him.

"Who takes care of you?" asked Luke, a sympathetic and understanding frown on his face as we stood a little ways from the kid. We didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but we'd gotten good at spotting the signs of a young Half-Blood in distress and helping them.

"I take care of myself," the kid spit. I tried not to glance at Luke.

"We used to do that, too," I said, moving a little closer to Luke. "We both ran away from home, survived on the streets, although I guess we really took care of each other."

"Now, we take care of people like you," Luke continued, right where I'd left off. "Do you know what you are?"

The kid hesitated, then half shook his head. He at least had some idea, then.

"You're a Half-Blood," I said. "Half mortal, half immortal Olympian god."

"...What?"

"Look, I know it's a lot to process," said Luke. "But the longer the three of us sit in this alley, the more likely it is another monster's gonna come and pick a fight."

We managed to get the kid up and moving, heading back for our apartment. On the way, we explained more about the Olympians, and told him about Camp Half-Blood.

"It's a good place to get training, and to meet other Half-Bloods like you," I said. "A place for heroes."

"It's only one option, though," Luke added. The kid nodded, looking a little overwhelmed but excited as we stopped outside our apartment door.

"And... what's the other option?"

Luke and I shared a smile, then he pushed open the door to our apartment.

Inside, we were immediately greeted with a wave of noise and excitement. We'd left Ethan Nakamura, one of the Half-Bloods Luke had met away from camp, in charge, and he'd been leading the rest of our group in basic combat lessons.

"What... what is this place?"

"A place for normal kids who need somebody to take care of them," Luke answered. "You'll still get training, since monsters will always be trying to kill you."

"But we won't ever ask anything of you, other than to do your own damn dishes," I said. "No dangerous quests, no tribute to the gods. Just our own little makeshift family going through life together."

Luke put his arm around me, pulling me into his side and kissing my temple as Ethan noticed our newcomer and waved him over to join in the fun. Luke and I stayed where we were, watching the bubble of happiness we'd made together with smiles on our faces. We'd gone through hell and back to get here, but as far as I was concerned, every moment of pain had been worth it for Luke and I's happy ending.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Percy Jackson Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 4- Have You Done This Before?

Helllooo… here is a nice little blurb for today. 🧛🏽‍♀️

Fictober prompt list/ masterlist

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Warnings- vampires, talks of blood, murder, etc

———

“Have you done this before?” Harry whispered against her hair as he felt her leaning her head back on to a cool shoulder. He was asking even though he already knew the answer. Foreplay. Flashy red lights lit up the club, the crowd thick and preoccupied. His prize, the pick of the night allowing his hands to wander around her body, the red velvet slip dress making his cock ache.

Y/N knew going to a club known for being a vampire hang out, aka a blood bank, was risky. Some could say she was having a quarter life crisis, some could say she was going through it, but she was tired of sticking to the books and her bed. She’d rarely been one to take a risk, more apt to listening to a raunchy audiobook as she cleaned up from baking her cinnamon rolls to take to work as a treat for her coworkers the next day. Showing up somewhere that had you sign a waiver to get inside to let you know you were responsible for your own safety if you left the premises had been chilling, but she knew that she had to take a shot.

“No.” She whispered, eyes closing as the taller vampire pulled her closer against his body. The frosty tip of his nose ghosted the side of her cheek making her breath catch in her throat, the large hand resting on her hips keeping her pulled up against him as they moved to the music. Harry had zeroed in on her as soon as she walked inside. Most people had been watching, the obvious uptick in her pulse showing her excitement or nerves and the brand new scent intriguing most of them. It was always fun to see a newbie, but this one in particular had his fangs growing without his permission.

Her scent was divine, decadent, every delicious word. Sweet. So, so sweet, like cinnamon and vanilla and a bit of ginger. It wasn’t the artificial type that came with human made perfumes, the kind that made a sticky coating in the back of his throat that he despised. No, she smelled like homemade, fresh sweets. He’d always been known to have a sweet tooth. He’d wasted little time in approaching, not bothering to go with the usual hunt of the prey tactic. It was obvious Y/N was a rare one with that sort of potent, perfect scent, and Harry was selfish. He’d never claim otherwise.

She had been easy to charm once he soothed her worries, explaining how it worked. How people enjoyed the feeling of the venom, like a high. How it was intimate and hot and that’s why there were private areas for bites and the after activities. Harry usually liked that, less of a problem, but tonight? Harry was thinking about getting his food to go.

“Well… Will you let me, sweetness?” He purred, inhaling her scent as his nose dipped into the curve of her jaw. A groan from him vibrated against her back, his words smooth and sultry as he continued. “Let me take you home where I can ravish you. I can smell how wet you’ve been getting for me. I can hear your excitement. The blood is rushing through your veins, your heart is pumping… All for me.” His grip tightened, his length pressing into her ass as she submitted to his movements.

He was thick, impossibly hard and bigger than she had expected. The rumors were true, then. Vampires were more well endowed than humans.. Y/N hadn’t known if she would prove that as a myth tonight, but the thumping between her thighs was making the choice for her.

“A-Are you going to bite me when you’re inside me?” The thought was spilled without her permission, thinking out loud as his lips pressed against her jaw. There was a pause before a soft pained noise left his throat, rubbing himself against the thin material of her dress.

“Yes. I want to taste it. I know you’ll be even sweeter when you’re cumming around my cock.” He breathed. “I’ll give it to you for as long as you can take it, sweet little thing. Have t’make sure you’ll come back to see me, don’t we?” His lips moved further south, her body stiffening momentarily before melting into him once she felt them brush over a specific spot. The vampire could feel her pulse, each woosh of her blood moving in the artery. Such a strong beat, his balls heavy with his arousal as she tilted to the side for him. She was a natural, something not many people were.

With her scent and her body reacting so positively to him, it did make him wonder how she couldn’t have found her way sooner. There was no way she wasn’t fated for a vampire, but he wasn’t going to think much more on it. He was worked up and hungry. For her body and her blood.

“I’ll take you home and get you comfortable… But before we leave, may I have a taste?”