#Wonder Woman probably thinks he’s a time traveler or something

[scaralvr]

hello! i would like to request prompt #15 with haypasia and scaras dynamic and him trying to get you jealous but you take it the wrong way + hurt/comfort, thank you!

only you — TRIAL FOR YOUR HEART EVENT scaramouche x gn!reader (possessiveness, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort)

☆ prompt(s) used : are you jealous yet?

note(s) : thank you for requesting, traveler! i really like the idea of this concept so i hope you like how i wrote it (o´▽`o)

one tiny mistake caused your lover to completely lose his trust in you. after being so careful, you just had to slip up. the fatigue was getting to you, and you know how scaramouche gets when he sees even the slightest hint of an illness. he's so careful with you, handling you like a porcelain doll and that if he isn't considerate, you'll break.

you did break, you shattered right in front of his eyes. you passed out mid-conversation and scaramouche's distress was at high. you didn't see how his hands trembled as he held you, you didn't see how his gaze flitted from the slow rising of your chest to your closed eyes. you didn't see how visibly worried he was.

scaramouche wasn't going to let anyone betray him again, even you, his (s/o). he didn't care whether he was going to have to use force to teach you a lesson. he's grown tired of your petty little lies just so he doesn't have to worry about you.

"a devout follower of yours? i see," you say with a calm tone, but scaramouche doesn't fail to notice the way your gaze slightly darkens. he continues, "yes, isn't it great? the first step to the birth of my becoming of a God begins with her." scaramouche can hardly contain an evil cackle from slipping from his lips, but he'll save that for later.

your hands are behind your back as you fidget with your thumbs, "that's good, kuni. um, listen, i was wondering if-" you stop short when you notice the way he seems to be enraptured in his deep thoughts. probably thinking of haypasia again, huh? you look to the side and almost anyone would feel bad at the way you frown, "nevermind."

scaramouche smirks and he holds onto the rim of his hat, the trinkets clinking with each step he takes towards you. "what? do you have something to tell me?" he queries with a condescending tone, taking pride in the way you appear like a poor lamb being hunted as prey.

you shake your head, "no, it's nothing. you should get going, no time to waste on that plan of yours, right?" you shrug it off with your signature chuckle that you forced to release from your throat. scaramouche's lips curl upwards, "correct." and with that, he walks away, no greet goodbye, not a single word did he utter that acknowledged you were still his lover. his only.

lately, you noticed his visits with haypasia frequently taking up more and more of his schedule. he doesn't even hesitate to cancel out on dates he had previously planned with you and instead, wastes away at the day with a woman he just met. your insecurities begin to gnaw at you with each second that passes by.

it never leaves your mind how sometimes, scaramouche wouldn't even return for days and when he comes back, he claims it doesn't have anything to do with haypasia at all. but you do see him during your daily check-in at his office to see how he's doing. though, he seems to pay less attention to it recently. then you realize, this must all be because you showed the smallest indication of an illness.

you tuck your knees up to your chest and it looks like you're spending another day alone in bed without the presence of your lover, who's busy with his own things to do. or people to meet. the moonlight that peeks through the window's translucent curtains adorns your features. suddenly, you feel a dripping from your nose.

you touch it and look at your fingerpad to find a crimson red. you panic and get out of bed to wash up in the bathroom. blood continues to pour from your nose and your head begins to feel light. when you finish up, you make a discovery. mortal. you're a mortal. scaramouche surely doesn't seek that if he wants someone to be by his side forever.

time would take you sooner or later, and right now, your body wasn't in its best condition. tears grow at the corners of your eyes as you realize that you weren't even the one he was even looking for in the first place, because you're a mortal. your presence is temporary; no wonder he's been so off as of late.

scaramouche is exhausted. despite being a puppet, he felt his knees about to give way beneath him because of how hard he's been working lately. and the past few days, he noticed you hadn't visited him at his office so it added to his sour mood. scaramouche wonders whether he should continue to dangle countless summaries of what he and haypasia did, but he supposes you've learnt your lesson by now.

a small smile is atop his lips as he puts his things aside for the day. during his walk back to the house he shares with you, he replays your amusing reactions in his head whenever he told you about haypasia. you really are pathetic aren't you? well, all is fine. you're going to come running back to him no matter what so...

scaramouche ought to apologize as well. his behaviour was uncalled for, at least he'd agree to that. he wonders how you're doing physically too. that little incident of you passing out that began this whole ordeal still hasn't passed his mind just yet. scaramouche will check in on you when he gets home.

he arrives and peers into the rooms, searching for your whereabouts. scaramouche put his hat onto the dining room table and sighs. maybe you're out getting groceries. maybe you're visiting a friend and lost track of time. though he'd prefer the first option. scaramouche wanted nothing more than to get in bed with you after a long week of working and being separated from his lover.

his plan to become a God would be set into motion soon, and he wanted you by his side by that time. he figures he'd apologize now if he were to get back to work the next day, so he waits. scaramouche sits at one of the chairs at the dining table and waits for your arrival.

as he's only four minutes into waiting, he notices an envelope on the ground that must have fell from the table after he placed his hat on it. scaramouche picks it up and examines it before peeling it open. he takes out a paper with beautiful ink words across it, which he can come to recognize is your penmanship. hesitant at first, he reads nonetheless.

dear kunikuzushi,

i hope this letter finds you well. i, however, am not myself as of late. surely, you've noticed, but i've come to realize that you're meant for bigger things, kunikuzushi. i'm just a mortal who's living in your world and when all is said and done, time will reach me as well. at the moment, i'm recovering my state in liyue at bubu pharmacy, where a close friend will tend to me, so please, don't worry and focus on what it is you truly wish to achieve rather than allowing me to burden you. i hope everything will go well with your plan, along with haypasia. farewell, kunikuzushi.

yours truly, (y/n).

scaramouche has a blank expression when he finishes reading it. his thumb smoothes over the corner and it slightly crumples. "farewell?" he mumbles, eyes darkening. scaramouche rips the letter apart without another second of waiting. pieces of the page drift to the ground and he grits his teeth. "i'm not going to let you leave me."

had scaramouche known you were hurting that bad because of his antics of teasing you, he would've dropped the act immediately. his pride got the best of him and made yet another one of his loved ones leave him. but he'll have time to dwell on that later. his top priority right now, is getting you back.

he sets a course for liyue, not caring whether it'll interfere with his current plan of becoming a God. what use would it be without his lover by his side as you always were? it was originally his plan; to have you there the whole time, and to cut you off was out of the question.

"qiqi, would you indulge in helping me pick more herbs for our friend, (y/n), here?" baizhu asks with a smile as the little zombie looks up at him. she nods, "yes, baizhu. would (y/n) like to come along?" qiqi queries as she looks at you. baizhu places a hand on her shoulder, "it's alright, qiqi. they'll be needing their rest."

you smile, "thank you for asking, qiqi." qiqi nods again and waves, "qiqi and baizhu will be back... with (y/n)'s herbs." baizhu winks at qiqi and qiqi hums. that causes you to blink for a few moments. these two...

"we'll be off. anything you need, you can find in the cabinets over there," baizhu says before leaving with qiqi in tow. as they exit, your mind can't help but linger upon scaramouche. you wonder how his plan is going with haypasia. you sigh and shake your head. it was your fault to begin with, for not noticing the signs sooner, right?

you stand up and decide to take a walk for fresh air. you feel bad for not coming along to pick herbs with the sweet girl and your friend, but you want some time alone. but as soon as you leave the pharmacy, you meet a familiar fatui harbinger.

"scaramouche!" you say in surprise, your eyes wide as you look left and right. said man suddenly grabs you by the wrist and pulls you behind the building. "don't 'scaramouche' me," he seethes, eyes narrowing with anger. scaramouche roughly pushes you against the wall and keeps you there with just his menacing glare.

you fight back the urge to look away, but you can't bring yourself to do so when tears are helplessly flowing down his face. "why would you leave? actually, no, that doesn't matter," he murmurs, looking down to refrain you from seeing the way he cries. "can you come back? i-i promise i won't do anything like that again, so..."

scaramouche slowly lets go of your wrist to wipe at his tears. you solemnly say, "kunikuzushi." in a tender motion, you hold both his hands in yours and he looks up, eyes baring more tears to release. "it's not your fault," you say with the softest voice he's ever heard.

you lift one hand to cup his cheek, "it's okay. if my presence with you is what you truly wish for... i'll do it for you." you smile and scaramouche couldn't contain himself from holding you close and pressing his lips against yours. you clutch at his shoulder and your tears mix with his.

even if it isn't forever, he has you right now. so please, don't leave, as you're the only one he has.

© scaralvr.

[seasonsbloom]

dime store cowboy 2 . (hangman)

pairing ; cowboy!jake seresin x female!reader

synopsis ; jake teaches you about the cowboy hat rule. (part two of dime store cowboy, but can probably be read separately.)

wc ; 6.5k

warnings ; 18+ only, minors do NOT interact; explicit language, alcohol abuse, explicit sexual content (semi-public sex, sex while under the influence, p in v, fingering, riding, dirty talk, lil tiny bit of degradation maybe?, almost getting caught)

note: YEEHAW PARDNERS………. i hate this so much, but hey i finished! that's the only positive about this goodbe.

sol. sunderlust. you already know what i’m gonna say thank you for being my bestie :(

It’s a small town, so news travels like wildfire - soon, all the kitchens are burning.

When you walked into work on Monday, three of your co-workers told you not to get too involved with Jake. On a trip to the local mom-and-pop shops for nails to hang your newest art print with, the older woman at the register frowned, called you by name even though you don’t remember ever introducing yourself to her, and said, Jake Seresin is bad news, honey. At a diner, a whole table of mid-twenties girls glared actual daggers at you.

With the way he’s looking at you right now, sort of like he’s ready to reach across the table and devour you whole, you think you kind of know what they mean.

“You’re like… a local legend,” you tell him, toying with the straw in your margarita. Jake ordered it for you before you even walked through the doors, and you don’t know how to feel about him remembering your drink order.

Jake raises an eyebrow. He’s wearing a pale blue button-down tonight that seems more formal than the flannel you met him in, but the hat and obnoxious belt remain the same.

“Am I?” he asks and sounds a little too pleased for your liking.

You nod. “I got advised not to show up tonight by….” You count them off on your fingers. “... four people. And that’s not counting any of the girls who I think are planning my murder as we speak.”

It punches a chuckle out of him, but something about the sound is almost sad.

“Yeah, yeah,” he agrees, waving it off. “I may have a bit of a reputation.”

“What sort of reputation?” you ask, watching as your straw paints swirls into the pink slush of your drink.

Looking at him is dangerous business, you’ve learned this much by now. It makes you do crazy things, shuts off whichever part of your brain is responsible for logic and common sense. So you avoid his eyes, even as you feel his gaze burn holes into the side of your face.

“A bad one,” he says.

It’s ridiculous, and judging by the fake deep voice he puts on, he knows it too. So you laugh, duck your head, and wonder if you even want to know the real answer.

From what you’ve gathered, Jake is a bit of a ladies man. (Your co-worker’s description had been somewhat less flattering. At least you don’t think town mattress is going to show up on his CV any time soon.) Usually, that fact alone would have been enough to have you running for the hills, but you can’t forget the night you met him - his hand on your thigh and the easy banter and feeling sexy, carefree, grown-up in a way not even doing your taxes can duplicate.

Still. The uncertainty remains.

“You think I should listen to them?” you ask. The leather of the booth clings to your sweaty thighs. It’s a hundred degrees in this stupid bar.

Jake hums and shrugs his shoulders. “What I want you to do and what you should do are two entirely separate things, sugar.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He’s drinking whiskey neat. When he picks the glass up to take a sip, amber liquid trembles like a lake in an earthquake.

“It’s your choice, sweetheart.”

That’s not exactly an answer, and it doesn’t escape your notice.

Jake sets his glass back down, braces his elbows on the table’s edge, and leans forward, leans into your space, a conspiratorial grin pulling up the corners of his mouth and says, “If you’re asking me, though… I think you’ve already made your choice.”

You’re not exactly sure what you’re talking about anymore, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of saying what.

“How so?” you ask.

“Well.” Jake makes a sweeping gesture that seems to encapsulate both your little outfit and meticulously styled hair as well as the bustle of the bar. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

You can’t argue with that. A new song comes on, and a group of girls near the bar yell in excitement. You watch them for a second.

“What made you come anyway?” He has his arms folded on the tabletop, clearly trying to pull you back from whatever train of thought you’ve boarded and sailed away on.

That’s a good question, and it’s one you’re not too sure how to answer. Because, truth be told, you almost didn’t. Without the liquid courage of three strawberry margaritas coursing through your bloodstream, without him so close you could barely think of anything but his stubble between your thighs, your nerves caught up with you. You’ve agonized over this, even twenty minutes ago, sitting in your car and staring at the twinkling neon of the bar, your heart beating an erratic pattern that echoed in your words like the same question repeated again and again: Should I?

You shrug. “Curiosity.”

He grins, his teeth gleaming between the pink of his lips. You wonder if he uses Crest white strips or if he gets them professionally bleached. They’re almost too white.

“Curiosity about what, exactly?”

You take a sip of your cocktail to bide your time, to collect your thoughts. Then you say, “I’ve never been on a date with a cowboy.”

Casually, Jake leans back in his chair, folding his arms in front of his chest. His expression is unreadable. “Oh, so is that what this is? A date?”

Your heart drops to the vicinity of your kneecaps. Could it really be that you’ve misjudged this situation so completely? Could it really be that you’re so inexperienced, so out of tune with the signs and signals of the chase, that you can’t even recognize when somebody’s flirting with you?

And you were so sure of it all. That he had felt the same pull as you did that night at the bar. That he’d wanted you almost as much as you had wanted him. That he’d called the number you’d scribbled hastily on a napkin soaked in beer (called, not texted, and you’d been so sure it was a spam call you almost hadn’t picked up) because he’d genuinely wanted to see you again to continue whatever your co-worker had interrupted.

Back home, your friends used to call you romantically challenged, but you didn’t think it was this bad.

“Oh,” you say, and your cheeks feel warm as you shift your weight in your seat, as you pull your shoulders up like you’re trying to disappear between the blades, “I’m sorry, I just….”

Jake is shaking his head before you can finish the sentence you had no idea where to end anyway. “I’m only messing with you, sugar,” he says, his laughter warm even as he teases you, and for a split second, his fingers graze over your knuckles on the tabletop. “I’m honored to be the first cowboy to take a pretty lady like you out.”

That line has no business making your heart race the way it does. Where his fingers touched yours, the skin tingles.

Because you don’t know what to say, you down the last of your cocktail. 

For a while, the two of you chat about nothing and everything. Your new job, the adjustment to the countryside. His work on his parent’s ranch and his family. He names all of their seven dogs, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“Seven?” you repeat, a note of awe sneaking into your voice. “You guys have seven dogs?”

Jake laughs. “I take it you like dogs?”

“Like is like… the understatement of the century.”

“If you’re a good girl,” he says, looking at you over the rim of his glass, “maybe I’ll introduce them to you one day.”

That has your thighs clenching, your toes curling against the soles of your shoes. Jesus. He can’t just say things like that.

Jake orders you another cocktail from a waitress that does very little to conceal the glare she throws in your direction. When she comes back to deliver your drink and the beer that Jake has switched to, she leans so low both he and you get a good, thorough glance into her cleavage.

As she saunters away, hips swinging, you blink, caught between confusion and a tiny bit of annoyance, and Jake just snorts into the sweating neck of his beer bottle.

By then, the sugar and the alcohol are beginning to work their way into your bloodstream, and you feel just the right side of tipsy. Where your senses are dulled enough the bar fades away to a steady chatter of background noise, tuned out by the gleam of Jake’s smile and his eyes and his fingertips tapping rhythmically on the wood of the table. You feel loose and swaying and unsteady in a way that is funny, thrilling, instead of scary.

It’s strange to be so far from him, all the space of the booth stretching and elongating. Later, you’ll blame the liquid courage, but something (it’s definitely not jealous, nope, not at all) propels you to slide along the leather of the seat, feeling the sweat collecting in your kneecaps, heart in your throat, until you’re on his side, your legs just an inch or two from his.

Jake watches your migration with a faint smile on his face.

“Hi,” you say, blinking up at him.

“Hi,” he echoes back, his arm sliding over the backrest just above your shoulders. “You good?”

You nod. “I was getting lonely over there.”

As soon as the words are out, you cringe at yourself, mouth already opening around an apology, but Jake’s hand on your waist silences you. Wordlessly, he pulls you the last inch to him. And then you’re pressed to him, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, and he’s like a massive bulk of heat and muscle and the pleasant, spicy scent of his aftershave. Your heart stutters, stumbles, trips.

“Well, we can’t have that,” Jake says, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Pretty girl like you all on her lonesome.”

It has you grinning involuntarily. His arm goes from your waist to drape across your shoulder instead, heavy against you, and you set a tentative, searching hand on his thigh. The denim of his jeans feels rough against your palm.

“Better like this?” he asks, and the words are quiet, soft, like they’re meant just for you.

You nod. “Much.”

From your perch against his chest, you watch as he takes a sip of his beer. The bottle comes away, mouth wet just like his lips. His tongue pokes out just a little as he chases the flavor, chases a drop, and it’s like an intrusive thought, something planted in your mind by someone else, something…

“Can I have a sip?” you blurt.

Jake raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for a beer girl.”

You’re not. That’s not what it’s about.

You shrug, his arm moving with your gesture, and say, aiming for nonchalance, “Maybe I could be.”

He chuckles but hands you the bottle without further protest. It’s ridiculous, but something about the thought that you’re putting your lips where his have been moments ago excites you, sets your heart racing. Maybe you’re childish. If you reached up now and kissed him, you’re almost entirely sure he’d kiss back, but the tiniest, smallest spark of fear flickers inside of you at the idea. What if he rejects you?

So instead, you bring the bottle to your lips, take a single, tiny sip, and then, because you can’t help yourself, because apparently, this has become a habit in his presence, you lick the rim. 

Then you cringe. “Nah,” you say. “Still not a beer girl.”

Jake snorts, but his eyes stay fixed on your mouth for just a moment too long. “Can I try your margarita, then?”

You nod, lean forward out of the crescent of his arm for just a moment to pluck the glass you left abandoned across the table.

Jake takes a sip and, to your disappointment, does not copy your moves. There’s no licking off the sugar for him.

He grimaces. “Jeez,” he says, “this is like ninety-five percent sugar.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “That’s why I like it.”

“Well, sugar,” Jake says, his grin turning just a touch devious, “I bet you taste even sweeter.”

Now that has blood rushing into your cheeks, fingers tightening around his thigh. You can feel his hand tracing up and down your side in leisured patterns, the naked skin of your legs against the fabric of his jeans. Your foot in the dainty sandals just an inch shy of his boots.

It’s like you can’t stop touching each other. Like a circuit, the electricity only flows if all parts of the pattern are connected. Like you’re gravitating towards each other, hands always on the other, your neck, his knee, your hip, his biceps.

“You want to find out?” you ask, voice barely more than a whisper, and wonder where the hell that came from.

Jake’s mouth lifts into a grin at one corner. “You’d let me have a taste, sugar?”

I’d let you have anything you want. That’s what you want to say, but when you open your mouth, somebody else’s voice cuts over yours.

“Jake.”

It’s the waitress from earlier. She’s gotten rid of her apron and notepad and is smiling at Jake in a way that makes her intention crystal clear. This girl is definitely here on a mission.

“Hi,” Jake greets back. “We’re still good on drinks, thank you.”

She laughs, and the sound is almost musical. “That’s not why I’m here. My shift just ended.”

For the first time, you really take her in. She’s beautiful, tanned skin, full lips, long hair the color of butterscotch that seems to dance in the light breeze from a ceiling fan. If it hadn’t been for Jake’s arm around you, you would have tried to melt back into the cushions of the booth. Suddenly, you feel painfully inadequate.

But Jake just says, “Good for you.”

The girl casts a furtive glance at you, a furrow etching itself between her eyebrows as if she cannot understand what Jake is doing with someone like you.

Welcome to the club, you think and startle at how bitter that sounds. It’s not like you to pity yourself like this.

“You remember when you asked me out on that date?”

Jake takes a moment to think about that. When he speaks again, he somehow manages not to sound like an absolute douchebag, and you’ll take that as a testament to his immense charm. “Vaguely.”

The girl’s mouth twists like she’s just bit into a lemon. “How about it then?”

One of Jake’s eyebrows rises so high it almost touches his hairline. He says, “I’m a tad busy.”

You watch the whole exchange like somebody watching a tennis match. Sort of like you forgot you’re at all involved in this and not just an innocent bystander watching a girl’s romantic advances crash and burn. Then she sends a truly withering look at you, and you’re reminded that you’re smack dab in the middle of this thing.

“Alright,” she says, trying not to let the note of hurt in her voice show too much. Honestly, you feel sort of bad for her. “Give me a ring whenever.”

Jake hums, but he isn’t even looking at her. His eyes are fixed on your face, his thumb dragging in a long line from your hip down to the top of your thigh. A thoughtful expression crosses his face, and then he’s reaching for where he placed his hat on the tabletop earlier and planting it on your head again.

There’s a thrill to it all - a guy who could potentially have any girl in this town (pretty girls and funny girls and smart girls), but he’s looking only at you. His arm around you and his eyes on you, and his fingers on your leg. His hat on your hair.

You don’t even know if the waitress is still standing by the table or if she’s left. You don’t care.

“Did you drive here?” you ask.

Jake, preoccupied with adjusting the hat on you, glances down at your face and answers, “I did.”

Maybe you’re flattered by all the attention. Maybe it’s been too long since you last got laid. Maybe Jake is too pretty. Or maybe you’re just drunk. 

But there’s a sudden bout of confidence, a wind in your sails, a voice at the back of your head whispering fuck it, and another answering yeah, we’re trying.

Maybe it doesn’t matter. What matters is this: You say, “Do you wanna get out of here?”

You expected Jake to be surprised. Instead, he just smiles, something like amusement crossing his face, and you’re not sure how to feel about that.

“Sure,” he says. “Wait by the door for me, yeah, sugar?”

You agree. As he goes to pay, you idle by the entrance, acting like you don’t feel any of the eyes on you. Without his touch on you, you feel almost forlorn. A little sheepishly, you take off the hat and hold it to your chest, turn it over and over to stare at that label inside.

“Property of J. Seresin,” you read out in a whisper, running a finger along the thin leather of the hat band.

“You really like that hat, don’t you?”

Jake’s voice startles you. He’s smiling, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d call the expression on his face affectionate.

“It’s that cowgirl fantasy,” you say and watch as he stuffs his wallet back into his pocket.

“Yeah, I got my own cowgirl fantasies,” Jake mutters, and you don’t know how to respond, so you act like you didn’t hear him. Something at your core has gone liquid.

He takes the hat from you and plants a warm palm at the small of your back, steering you confidently toward the door.

And this time, when you twist over your shoulder to throw a last glance at the bar, there’s something a little smug to your smile. So what if everybody sees you leave with Jake Seresin? Let them talk about this come Monday then, let them talk about it in the break rooms and the supermarkets and the diners. Let them set the whole town on fire.

You don’t really care, not when you’re the one Jake is ushering toward his truck with something like urgency in his step.

Jake parked his car towards the end of the lot, where the lights of the bar turn into shadows, where the music and the voices are drowned out almost entirely by the chirping of cicadas. The air smells of gasoline and green things, growing things you never really knew back in the city with all its traffic jams and construction work.

When you tilt your head back, you see the stars like glowing pins stuck in the velvet of the night.

“Earlier,” you tell him, slowing your steps as you get closer to the truck, “you asked what I was curious about.”

Jake hums in agreement. He’s rounded the car with you, clearly intent on opening the passenger door for you, but now he stops when you do. You’re still in sync.

“I think,” you say, and wonder how your voice sounds so firm when you feel like you’re floating off into the stratosphere, “I was wondering what it might be like.”

In the dim of the night, Jake’s eyes look almost black. “What what might be like, sugar?”

You bite your lower lip. “That ride I owe you.”

He’s on you within seconds. 

One of his hands tangle in your hair, the other falls once more to that spot at the small of your back, pulling you towards you with enough that you go careening, that you crush into him. The alcohol still has you a little off balance, so you steady yourself with both palms flat on his chest, then make a sound against his lips when you feel the muscles beneath his shirt, the rapid beat of his heart.

It’s all so sudden that it takes you a moment to get used to it. I can’t believe this is happening, you think distantly as Jake opens his mouth against yours, as his tongue traces over the seam of your mouth. You react on instinct, letting him in, melting in his arms. It’s all hot and wet, and god, he’s warm. You know the backs of your thighs and knees are still damp with sweat, with the sweltering heat of the bar, and now, surrounded by the furnace of Jake’s body, not even the night breeze can do anything to cool you down.

Jake walks you backward until your back connects with the metal of his truck, and then he presses you against the door. The hand on your back wanders down, down, down, over the curve of your ass, and then he’s pinching the skin there, and you yelp.

The curve of his smile presses against your own mouth for a moment, and then he’s drawing back at the exact moment that he pulls your hips forward. He’s hard beneath the denim of his jeans, his cock an insistent pressure against your core.

“Oh,” you gasp.

Jake grins. “So do I get to be the first cowboy to fuck you, too?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hips instinctively bucking forward and into him. The sound of those words tumbling from his lips, his tone so easy, so unaffected, has something inside of you clenching.

“I…” You clear your throat and take a deep breath. “Yeah. First cowboy.”

His voice is husky when he says, “Good.”

Then he’s leaning back in, his tongue sliding into your mouth, his feet kicking your legs apart so he can slot himself between them. His thigh nudges against your clit just once, the contact almost has you keening, and then he’s angling it away, holding your hips back so you can’t rut against him.

Jake is a good kisser. He’s probably had enough practice, you think, and then immediately abandon that train of thought. There’s nothing good down that line. It’s not difficult anyway, not when he does something with his tongue, when his hand slides from your hair to the back of your neck and your brain melts into a puddle anyway, all coherent thoughts shriveling up with it.

When you lick into his mouth, you find traces of the whiskey he had earlier, of honey and oak and smoke. His stubble scrapes against your cheeks, your neck when he leaves a trail of open-mouthed, lingering kisses along the edge of your jaw. Part of you imagines him leaving a mark, imagines the rasp of that bear along the inside of your thighs, and your breath hitches.

The hand has wandered from your ass to the very top of your thighs, where your skin is so tender and sensitive that you bounce up onto your tip toes when he lets the pads of his fingers stroke a figure-eight pattern against you. His answering chuckle vibrates somewhere low in your throat, tickles in an exhale of warm air against your collarbone.

“Sensitive, sugar?”

“Yeah,” you breathe.

And that’s just about the only answer you give because then he’s inching your panties to the side, and one finger dips between your lips, and you have no air left in your lungs to form words with.

“Jesus,” Jake rasps. “You’re fucking soaked, doll. Have you been like this the whole time?”

You make a soaked noise at the back of your throat. Truth be told, you may have been wet since you walked into this stupid bar. It’s not your fault you’ve been wound tighter than clockwork since that night you first met him, it’s not your fault he’s so unfairly hot, not your fault he kept looking at you like he was mentally undressing you, not your fault he…

His finger finds your clit, applies a steady kind of pressure, and you throw your head back and moan so loudly you’re glad the parking lot is abandoned.

He grins again. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Then he’s kissing you again, his finger rubbing circles against you. You can barely keep up with the movement of his tongue, can’t really do anything but open your mouth and take what he’s giving you. The metal of the car is cold against your back, your head.

“Hold this,” he mutters without breaking the kiss, bunching the fabric of your dress up around your stomach and shoving it into one of your hands.

You do as he says, giving him better access to you. His mouth trails from your lips to your jugular, where your pulse is jumping so quickly it’s making you dizzy, as he slides your panties down your legs, taps the side of your thigh to signal you to step out of them. You go one foot at a time, knees feeling like jelly, but Jake steadies you. Bending down to retrieve the underwear, he presses a kiss to your kneecap on his way and mutters, “Good girl.”

Then he’s back up, your panties a crumpled up piece of fabric in his hand, and he presses his face right into the lace. Inhales deeply.

You’re going to pass out.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “can’t wait till I get that taste, sugar. You really are just the sweetest thing, aren’t you?”

It’s not really a question, but you still think it warrants some kind of answer. Your brain won’t cooperate, though. It’s completely and utterly blank.

You think he’s going to chuck the panties into the truck or something, but instead, he shoves them into one of his pockets, a bit of the pink lace peeking over the denim, and you swear you get even wetter.

“Souvenir,” he says, winks at you, and then you’re grabbing him by the collar, pulling him in, in, in, shoving your mouth to his, and kissing him like you want to drown.

If Jake is at all surprised by your sudden initiative, he doesn’t let it on. He takes as well as you give (if not better), fingers digging into your bare ass, your thighs, one sliding through your wetness and then inside of you. You whimper against his mouth as he fucks that finger in steadily, as he thumbs at your clit. Cling to him with both arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

The sound of gravel crunching beneath feet reaches you as if through a fog. Thankfully, Jake is quicker on his feet than you are, pulling his fingers out of you, tugging your dress down to cover you, and angling his body to shield you from whoever is approaching their car. 

You can’t believe this is happening to you.

“Seresin,” the man calls as he unlocks his car door. Most of your vision is blocked by Jake’s shoulder, but you see the silhouette of someone raising their hand in a wave.

Jake tips his hat in response, arms protective and reassuring around you. He greets, “Hal,” then stays just as he is until the sound of the engine has died away in the buzz of the cicadas and the faraway traffic of the highway.

“Shit,” he curses, but there’s a chuckle to his voice. “You alright, sweetheart?”

The thing is this: you actually are alright, apart from the very, very insistent thrum between your legs Jake is doing nothing to help with. In fact, you’re more than alright. It’s exciting in a way you can’t explain, to be right here in the open with him, to know he wants you so much he’s willing to do this where anybody could possibly see. To know you want him so much you don’t even care. But also to feel so incredibly safe with him, to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’ll take care of you no matter what…

This one, you definitely can’t blame on the alcohol. 

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Can we… can we get in your car, maybe?”

Jake nods immediately. “Sure thing, sugar.” He unlocks the car door and opens it for you. “You want me to drive you home? I can…”

But you don’t let him finish. For the second time that night, you pull him by the collar, shove him down into the passenger seat and then climb after, clambering into his lap with your knees pressing into the cushion by his hips. Behind you, you pull the door closed with a resounding thud.

Jake’s truck smells like the air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror, but you barely take note of that. He throws his hat in the general direction of the driver’s seat. His face is just inches from yours, his hands immediately settling on your ass, his eyes wide and blown, and his lip curling in a surprised, pleased smile.

“Sure you don’t wanna do this in a bed?” he asks, but his fingers are already shoving beneath the fabric of your dress again.

You shake your head, lower yourself down until you feel his cock against you, until you both exhale in shaky unison. “Owe you that ride,” you mutter and lean in to kiss him.

It’s torture after that. Jake kisses you like he’s trying to climb into your body, tugs at your hair until you feel each pull like sparks of electricity down to your clit. He pulls your dress down your shoulders, lets it pool around your stomach to get his mouth on your nipples even over the fabric of your bra, the lace soaked through with his spit and your skin aching. All the while, you grind against him, spread your wetness all over his denim as Jake ruts up into the movement, the friction almost unbearable. On every hitch of your hips forward, the obnoxious belt buckle nudges against your clit, and it almost undoes you - the cold of the metal against your heat enough to have your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your mouth opening around moans of Jake’s name.

Finally, he seems to crack, reaching around you to prop open the glove compartment and get out a condom. You watch as he finally unzips his jeans, gets out his cock, and hisses as he rolls the rubber down. Your heart is in your throat with the anticipation of it all.

And then you spot it.

In a split-second decision, propelled by something that must border on madness, you stretch across the middle console, reaching for the driver’s seat.

Jake frowns. “Where you going, sugar?”

“Just…” You strain until you can finally get your hands on the soft fabric, and then you’re sinking back down into his lap, your cunt rubbing over him, and a long, languid moan escaping you before you place his hat on your head.

Jake blinks at you for a moment, eyes glassy, mouth open, the fingers on your hips tightening.

“Jesus,” he whispers, “you gonna wear that, sweetheart?”

You can’t read his face, can’t read the expression, and the uncertainty slams into your chest like an iron-clad fist. Maybe this was a bad idea.

But Jake groans, says, “You gonna wear my hat as you ride my cock, sugar? That’s how you wanna play this thing?”

And shit. Okay, then.

“Yeah,” you breathe, plant both hands on his shoulders. “Can I?”

In answer, he surges forward to kiss you at the same time that he pulls you down on his cock. It’s a stretch, and it’s a slow slide down, but it feels so good, it makes you go a little crazy. You cling to him, let him kiss you, let him dig his fingers into the skin of your hips, pant into his mouth.

When he finally bottoms out, you can’t tell how long it’s been. Your legs are already shaking, your head spinning, your words failing.

Gently, Jake pinches your side. He’s undeniably beautiful, face painted in the neon lights of the far-off bar, shadows crowding behind him. His lips pink and swollen from the nip of your teeth. His eyes lidded and glazed. “Go on then, sugar. You owe me.”

You whimper and obey, move yourself up and down on him slowly at first. The slide of his cock in and out, the clench of your cunt around him each time, as if your body doesn’t want to relinquish its hold on you. His fingers on you as he finally slides your bra off. His lips on your collarbone, then on your breasts, his teeth grazing a nipple, his tongue soothing the sting… It’s almost too much, all of it.

The cubicle is filled with your sounds, the quiet gasps and the loud whines, with Jake’s moans muffled against your skin.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “god, you feel so fucking good, sugar.”

You just nod in answer, the hat almost slipping over your eyes again, and up the pace. You’re all but slamming yourself down on his cock now, the sounds obscene. It’s the wet squelch of your pussy every time he spears into you, the frantic slap of skin on skin as your thighs meet his, the noise of his mouth on your tits.

It goes on forever, something that spirals higher and higher and never reaches the pinnacle. The windows fog up. Your thighs ache. You chase a high that eludes you, time and again.

And all through it, Jake’s hands remain infuriatingly stagnant on your hips.

Finally, you give in and whine, “Jake….”

You can barely keep up the bouncing, your thighs trembling with the pent-up desire, the strain of the movement. In fact, you’re shaking all over, so far gone you can’t even control your own muscles anymore. Sweat drips in steady tracks down your back.

“Hmm?” The sight of him, his hair disheveled by your fingers as he trails a line of wet kisses from your clavicle down between the valley of your breasts, is almost too much. 

“I can’t….” You slump against him, the fatigue catching up with you, pant into the place where his collarbone dips in.

“You tired, doll?”

Without lifting your head, you nod.

His laughter brushes over your hair on an exhale. If you had any strength left in you, you might feel insulted at the fact that he’s laughing at your plight. But the alcohol and the exhaustion and the night in total have finally caught up with you, and you can’t think of anything but your dizzying, deafening, debilitating need to cum.

“That’s too bad,” he says, “You promised me a ride, didn’t you?”

And, like… fuck him, honestly.

“I’m too tired,” you whine, and you’re not too ashamed to admit it. Haven’t you been doing all the work for long enough?

Jake clicks his tongue and pats along the length of your spine. In a voice like melting honey, he says, “You want to come, don’t you, doll?”

You nod, words drifting far away from you like letting go of a balloon.

“Well.” He presses a kiss to your temple that is too soft for the moment. “Then you better get back to work, hmm?”

That’s the breaking point for you.

“Jake,” you say, pushing yourself into an upright position with both palms balanced on his pecs and glare down at his stupid, evil grin, “if you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll go back into that bar and find another cowboy to do it properly.”

You wouldn’t, of course. There isn’t anybody in there you trust the way you trust Jake, not a person you’d want even half as much as you want him.

But Jake doesn’t know that.

The shift is almost immediate.

His eyebrows furrow, his hands tighten on your hips. Something dark crosses his face.

“Don’t talk about other guys while wearing my hat,” he says.

You shrug, motioning to take off his hat. “I will if you can’t fuck me pr….”

Your words trail off into a squeak as Jake fucks his hips up, as his cock plunges into you with more force. Then he’s sitting up straight, wrapping one arm around your waist as he sets a quick, hard rhythm, as he plants a firm hand on the hat and pushes it back down.

“Don’t even say it,” he whispers into your neck as he licks at a drop of sweat, as he sinks his teeth gently into your skin. “You should know better than that, sugar.”

He’s fucking you for real now, hips pistoning in and out with abandon. Your breasts bounce with the force of it, your hands scrabbling for purchase among the curve of his shoulder, the leather of the headrest.

Into your ear, between pants, he’s pouring buckets of filth, saying, “They couldn’t fuck you like this anyway, sugar, and you know it. Nobody but me could give it to you like this, get that pretty pussy this wet, give you the ride of your life….”

Your mouth drops open, sounds pouring from you that could put most porn actresses to shame. When Jake’s fingers find your clit, you have to muffle a full-on scream into his neck.

“Jake,” you whimper, and it’s almost scary how big it is, looming just in the distance. So close now, you’re so goddamn close.

“Yeah,” he’s saying into your hair, planting his feet firmly on the ground and fucking up into your pussy, his cock plunging so deep you swear you feel him in your stomach, “fucking take it. You better not forget who’s fucking cock you’re taking, sugar, who’s hat you’re wearing, who….”

You don’t hear the rest of it. All you can think of is the weight of the hat on your head. All you can think of is that label on the inside of it.

Property of J. Seresin.

You cum with a strangled shout, with your cunt clamping down so hard on Jake’s cock he grunts, with a gush of wetness, with your back arching far enough the hat tips backward off your head, with your fingers and toes numb, with your head somewhere in the clouds, with your blood rushing in your ears, and your heart like a sledgehammer and your arms around his neck. And then you sob, gasp for breath, wriggle like a fish on land.

“That’s my girl,” Jake is saying into your ear when you regain enough presence of mind to tap back into your hearing. “Look so pretty when you come on my cock, Jesus, you’re so fucking tight, sugar, God….”

He pumps his hips a few more times before the rhythm stutters, before he groans and tenses and empties into the condom. His cock twitches inside of you, and you moan weakly, slumped against his chest as you are.

Jake’s arms wrap around you as he hauls you closer to press kisses down the slope of your shoulder.

“You good?” he asks softly.

You nod, eyes fluttering closed. God, you could fall asleep right here - completely sated, completely exhausted, completely full.

“Jake?” you whisper, and as your lips move against his skin, you taste the salt of sweat.

“Yeah, sugar?”

“Can I keep your hat?”

It’s so warm in the car, and he’s even warmer. Soon, you’re going to have to climb off him, going to have to pull your dress back on, let him take you home and step under the shower, wash off the remnants of this night, of this thing that will never happen again. Something you’ll keep locked in your heart forever, a warm, soft memory to melt you in the cold.

But just for now, you get to keep it. For another minute, for another moment.

Jake laughs, his shoulders shaking and your body moving with it.

“Since I’m keeping the panties,” he says, his voice almost tender. “Sure thing, sugar. It’s all yours.”

You press your smile into his chest, preen as he reaches around you to put the hat back on you, and then you think, Thank God for Carrie Underwood.

[deblklesb]

["Mine" and "Yours" — Abby × Reader One-Shot]

[established hooking ups (I guess we could call that), smut (MDNI)]

a/n: this was... something. It's inspired by @guccipussay fanarts and prompts! I saw them and I got obsessed, I needed to get it out of my system. I had permission to write this, so thank you thank you thank you for allowing it!!!

cw: jealousy/possessiveness, strap-on, name calling (slut)

not proof read yet | 3.4k words

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Foggy mind with her sight, you wondered what she was thinking about. On the other side of the room, after all those dancing, chatting, drunken people, her gaze seemed to burn you from inside out. Not even the alcohol compared to what she could do to your body with a mare look, just like it was happening right now.

Nora appeared next to you with a loose giggle and drink in her hand, holding hands with a ginger girl you knew from some class. They were seriously drunk and your friend hugged you clumsily, almost spilling the liquid on you.

"He-hey, slow right there", you chuckled, tearing your look away from Abby for some time to talk to both of them. "Why don't you guys go get something non-alcoholic before you put your guts out?"

"We're on our way!", the ginger girl answered.

"So, what 's up?" Nora tried to stay serious, hardly focusing on you. "Wrapping up for the night already?"

"No, I still have to… Y'know", she looked at the other side of the room too, catching Abby still staring back. Firm eyes and posture, almost pissed while she sipped a drink. "I was about to go talk to her and try and-"

"Good luck", the woman next to you grinned, arching eyebrows. "She's pissed as fuck after seeing you with that tattoed girl earlier"

All words were taken away at that, your heart skipping beats as a tingling traveled your body from head to toes. That girl, Kat, was merely a colleague from the past semester. She was nice and laid-back and attractive, but aside from that it was just a moment. What you felt for the Anderson girl was… Beyond what you could actually risk yourself to speak, and probably that's why almost no one knew it, not even her.

You and Abby were hooking up for quite sometime now but you were head over heels for that woman. From what you could tell, she didn't want anything more - leaving soon after you'd make out, not talking that much, keeping some sort of distance. And you could respect that, so forcing things wasn't an option. All you could do was shove down those feelings and silently pin, daydreaming and getting whatever you could have.

When you looked at the blonde again she moved away from someone tripping and you could glance at the tattoos on her hips once again, gulping and feeling your core warm. Mouthwatering with her bare freckled arms at display and her hair down framing her beautiful features. She could take all the rational thought away from your mind, leaving a pile of feelings consuming you. Damn, she could handle you at whatever and whenever she wanted.

"Please stop pinning at each other in front of me", Nora grumbled.

Abby crossed her arms in front of the chest and you swear that was the breaking point; that daring, sassy glance. "I think I might come right here", you murmured more to yourself, core clenching, feelings like a tsunami inside your ribcage.

"Ew?!" The ginger girl laughed with Nora. "Go get her already"

And the both of them walked away leaving you alone again under those piercing blue eyes. Abby smiled briefly as someone complimented her, returning her gaze to your figure as you finally got the courage to walk towards her.

With effort that confident facade appeared on you, the aspect of Abby jealous growing inside. At first you thought she was upset about any other thing but now a wave of new realizations showed how you could take advantage of that tonight.

"Hey, Anderson", you used that smile capable of bending anybody, resting the shoulder on the wall next to her. She tried to pretend an unimportant look, but at that point you knew how to break her - at least physically. "So… I didn't saw you earlier"

"Guess you were too busy with that girl's tongue on your mouth", her eyes rolling seemed so bratty, you loved it.

"Y'know, I decided to do something while waiting for you"

"Got very entertained, judging by those hickeys." The blonde put her cup away on a small table before coming back to stand in front of you, body towering yours in the most arousing way. Her eyes burned blue flames on your skin as you touched the warm freckled skin of her bicep, fingers tip-toeing upwards as a smirk grew on your lips.

"Maybe you could cover them with new ones…", you glared at her torso, admiring the sight before you caught your breath at a realization. Under the room messed lights a contour in her breasts, under the black sleeveless turtleneck clothing; was that a nipple piercing?

"Eyes up in here", her voice was commanding and you obliged right away.

Abby held your waist, pulling you close just so you could feel a bulge pressing against you. With a mix of surprise and excitement you let your fingers intertwine with the hair on the back of her neck and stood on tiptoes, kissing her chin.

She didn't want to falter, but you kept spreading open mouth kisses along her chin and neck, knowing how she liked it. You noticed her body tensing. "C'mon, Abby, I know you want to…"

"Y'know what the fuck I want?", a hand grabbed your face, pushing your head back so you could be eye to eye again but so close still. The sight of her hair framing the beautiful face was breathtaking, capable of making you act miserably. "Want you to stop running your mouth around"

"Uh Anderson, are you jealous?" You squinted, smirk growing.

"I'm not"

"I think you are"

"I swear, if you don't quit this attitude-"

"You know I won't", your lips bumped into each other, breaths mixing. Exchanging heat, not wanting to pull away, you both were about to throw all scruples to hell. "So why don't you take me away and do whatever you want?"

The next minutes were like a blur while she grabbed you by the hand and took you out of that big, crowded house. You kept looking at her figure at all times, how her hair looked so good and her arms attractive, the bracelets ornamenting and complementing the all-black outfit. The tattooed hip and strong back. Fuck, how could she be so fucking gorgeous?

When she finally opened the door to the apartment she shared with Manny you couldn't wait anymore. You had to touch her. And you did as she pushed you back while closing the door again, pressing you there before kissing you with so much urgency it almost made your mind dizzy.

Even though it was still dark you needed to confirm what was on your mind for some minutes now, so you started to pull her shirt up in a rush. The warmth of her skin was so pleasant under the touch as you traveled your digits towards her chest, Abby's lips on your neck. She seemed a little bit aggressive now and you smirked when finally touching the small metallic objects.

"Since when have you had those?"

"Some weeks now", her voice made you shiver, bites being scattered around the skin of your neck and shoulders. The last times you both hung out were hurried, in some hidden places on college campus; there wasn't availability to take your clothes off.

Abby shut you up with more kisses, tongues battling as she walked towards her room. The hold in your body got tighter, needier, almost like she was trying to mark you. Her back and arms would be a little bit scratched after you ran the short nails along her skin, but she liked it. Your shirt and bra were thrown away before you turned on the lights, Abby pulling your hand just so she could throw you on the bed. The vision of that woman towering you could finish all the possible coherence; her abdomen and strong arms, freckled skin with some scars, honey-blonde hair falling on her shoulder. And the eyes; the most intense eyes scanning all of you, like searching for something.

"Tell me", she kneeled between your legs and leaned over, hair like a curtain next to your faces while her fingers touched you from the sternum to the lower belly. Shivering, you propped yourself on the elbows so your faces were now inches apart. "Did she mark you anywhere else?"

"Why? Do you want to investigate competition?" You moved some hair strands behind her ear with a chuckle.

"Is she competition?" Abby locked eyes with you, almost hesitant while her thumb bumped into your nipple.

Your grin faded, heart skipping beats with the closeness like this isn't an usual situation. Her fingers proceeded to massage your breast, thumb constantly playing with that hard nub. What the hell should you say? All the answers were on the tip of your tongue but would it be adequate to tell?

Fuck this woman for making you feel like a teenager in your feels.

"Go on and tell me", her hand went south until it reached the space between your thighs while she based herself on the other arm. Your hips trusted instantly, those warm lips and tongue dragging along the sensitive skin of your breasts, hair strands tickling on your sides. "Is she competition?"

The will to tell her everything was there, fighting to pour over her how she had you fully. As she worshiped you with kisses and movements on your clothed core that chill came back to your belly, heat pooling in your underwear while you throbbed. In front of your silence Abby used the free hand to pull your hair, still sustaining the weight in the elbow. "Answer"

"No", you blurted out in a heavy breath, legs spreading a little bit more with that sensation growing. Her movements and pressure doubled, intoxicating, making you want more and more of the high only that moment could provide. And she was pushing you on that path slowly with so little.

"I bet you wanted me to do this while we were there, uh?", her lips came back to your neck while she proceeded to touch you now inside your pants. Fingers directly on the growing wet heat, the woman chuckled when she noticed it. "Y'know, I was fully ready to rail you inside the bathroom. I've put this toy just for you, but you go and run your mouth around like a fucking slut", you swear you just got more wet with her words, nipples bumping into her skin. "And now look at you. Dripping wet just for me and I didn't even start"

"Abby…", the movements were circular, rubbing your clit easily due to the moisture and that made your mind go done.

She laid her hips next to you, massaging more and more. The explicit sounds made you feel like a pathetic mess under her ministrations, mouth open in silent pleads and gasps while you trusted on her digits. That feeling was growing, consuming you inside out bit by bit.

"I'll make you forget she ever touched you." Determination spilling from her voice in the most blissful way got you whining, rolling your eyes as she doubled the movements again and the grip on you hair continued.

"Please", you gasped, breathing hard. A pull inside and you fucking new what was coming. "Shit, don't stop"

"What?" Oh, she was being petty. That fucking bitch.

"Please, Abby"

"Let's go, come for me like you always do", she muttered, hand so fast now.

Your whole body tensed and shivered, hips thrusting messily as you grabbed her upper arm and arched your back, moaning, gradually slipping out of control as she breathed against your cheek, easing you through the orgasm.

Static flood your mind, thoughts floating as you open your eyes enough to watch Abby leading the now soaked fingers to her mouth, tasting you. As your core clenched repeatedly, body sensitive, she kissed you again with lust and despair, closing the distance between you both.

That urgency was different.

The last pieces of fabric were pulled away from you and her eyes wandered around anxiously. Hell, all you wanted was to give yourself to her all night long.

"Fuck, look at you soaking wet. No one else touches you like this, right baby?" Baby.

Her words being spilled while she towered between your legs again was such a low blow. She looked so gorgeous, so hot, metallic piercings shining on her nipples, arms drawing attention while she tied the honey-blonde hair in a low ponytail, tattoos visible above the pants; would she ever know how down bad you were?

"No, Abby" Fuck, her smug. You could see how this possessiveness fed something inside, made her eyes glow above those freckles. "I wouldn't"

She leaned closer again, now pressing your legs on your torso, spread open for her. Nose brushing yours, shit-eating grin twisting your stomach. "And why is that?"

Fuck it.

After that orgasm, imagining her plans to leave you senseless and feeling the bulge pressing your core whilst she thrusted slowly, your dignity wasn't present anymore. You closed your eyes and lost sight of her.

"Because I'm yours", it was almost a whisper, but enough to stop Abby on her tracks.

That was unexpected. She thought you would say something different, like how only she could make you feel things so intensely. But that? You didn't know, but that stroke was a realization too good to be true.

A strong hand grabbed you by the chin. "Look at me" and you obliged. Her eyes were indecipherable, dark due to the wide pupils. "Say it again"

"I'm yours", you repeated, pussy throbbing with the grip and the way she analyzed every inch of your face. "Fucking yours"

Her lips smashed into yours, taking your breath away. She resumed her thrusts, the bulge of the strap increasing the expectations.

Your hands flew to her pants, unbuttoning and trying to push them down. The momentary distance, as she backed away to take her clothings off, made you whine impatiently and she grinned at that too. "Turn around, baby"

Legs separating while you laid on your belly, she pulled your hips up a little and dragged warm lips and tongue along your back to your shoulders. Part of her weight pressed you on the mattress deliciously, she breathed next to your ear and rubbed the strap on your drenched cunt.

As she pulled inside slowly, making you sigh, her voice reverberated on your flesh when she muttered "Mine" again and again. It made your mind buzz.

Abby drank your moans, fucking you harder when you begged for it and groaning against your neck. It was a symphony of explicit sounds and your voices saying "yours" and "mine" like a mantra.

In that rythm you were losing capacity to think straight, mumbling anything, begging her to go harder, faster. She started to say the most unholy things in your ear, how much of a mess you were doing on the sheets, how her slut was good and needy, how you got her so well inside your pussy. Those words took whines and small tears from you, poisoning your body into responding to Abby, and Abby only.

Hands gripping sheets and flesh, heat rising contrasting with the cool of her piercings on your skin, the bed moving along with her lunges and you could only ask for more, more, more.

Not longer you started to gasp, clenching around the strap as she fucked that climax into your whole being again, consuming you from inside out. Her voice was the only thing on your mind repeating that single word that could cause you to break.

After some minutes just on top of you, easing you down from that moment with cuddles and not demanding a thing, Abby finally took the strap out and laid next to you.

And then, while you were still catching your breath and trying to think properly, she did something new: she pulled your body again and held you close.

Out of words, enjoying her warmth and your legs entangling with each other's, you just allow yourself to be there. To feel that woman, to be numb with her scent. Her heart was beating fast, probably because of the effort, you thought. She snuggled her face on your neck and kissed there again, subtly, and your hand caressed the honey-blonde hair.

"What do you mean by that?" Abby muttered after some minutes of silence, voice vibrating on your flesh.

"What?" Your eyes snapped open just when you started to doze off, relaxing against her.

"You said you're mine. What does that mean?" A strong hand on the small of your back pulled you even closer. She would be the death of you.

"It means…" What would you say? 'It means that I'm completely in love with you'? "It was from the heat of the moment, it doesn't have to mean anything…"

"Do you want it to mean something?" Abby finally locked eyes with you again, nose gradually rubbing on yours. Was she blushing?

Holding your breath and collecting the sight of her beautiful features, should you tell her the truth? About the agonizing feeling eating your guts every time you'd see her with another person, or even about the shivers across your spine when you two kissed? The dreams you had night and day, the need to get closer and closer, tingling on the tip of your fingers to caress her fully and whisper sweet nothings in her ear… Should you tell her?

Despite all your fear and anxiety, there she was: looking deep into your soul, searching for an answer and seeming even hopeful.

"I… I do", you whispered, moving a single hair strand away from her face. "Fuck, I do"

"Good… Because I want it too" Abby never looked so honest like right now. Yes all the other times you pushed her buttons she was very incisive, but this? The honesty scratching her voice could melt you from inside out, and your chest felt like exploding.

"You… Do?"

"Seeing you with that girl, I… Maybe I don't want us to see other people." She looked away now holding your thigh, sulking. Her small pout was adorable.

"Oh so you were jealous?" Despite your mocking tone and shit-eating grin, Abby just stayed like that.

"Yeah, I guess I was", and blushed more, laying on her back but keeping you close, partially on top of her body. She still wasn't looking at you.

The change in her demeanor erased your grin. Something was there. Jealousy never left her that way, retracted and reflexive. God knows how you liked to play with this gut rotting feeling, putting each other in a wild state, but she liked to show you possessiveness sometimes because she knew you liked it too. Quiet and sulking Abby was new.

And still, you felt that she was hurt.

"Not the usual jealous?"

"I guess not"

You laid the head on her shoulder, fingers softly dragging on her other arm. "Just so you know", she kept looking away. "I shamelessly thought about you whenever I was with someone else"

Her breath sharpened a little when you palmed her neck, hand going south to her chest. The piercing darkened under the shadow of your fingers as you touched a nipple and kissed her other breast. The small bites and licks couldn't deliver your devotion.

Abby sighed as your tongue circled the bud and you wrapped the mouth around it, skin and metal on your palate while you scratched lightly her abdomen. You locked eyes with her as soon as she looked at you again, heavy lashes and eyes dark with lust. She separated the strong legs as your hand reached the area between them and, oh, she was drenched. You could go dizzy with her moistures on your fingers, she was hot and soft.

She held your face while you propped yourself on an elbow, pressing that devine spot and brushing your lips against hers. Varying the look between her intense blue gaze and her lips, your mouth watered with how wet she was. Abby's breath was heavenly deepening and sharpening, her abdomen contracted as she moved the hips.

"I was already yours, Abby", you were getting heated again, her expressions could take you to the moon.

"Mine." She said again.

"Yours" You repeated like a prayer.

And so you showed her. When you made her come in your hand, gasp and plead like she never did. When you called her name as her mouth unraveled your core again, tongue pressing and tasting like you were her favorite thing to taste. You said with kisses and grips.

And you reinforced it with that word; every time your noses were brushing and she was so close you could feel her warmth consuming you, burning as 'mine' met 'yours' in the undermost space between your lips.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[divider by @froopis]

[jupitermelichios]

So I’ve been playing a lot of skyrim lately, because it’s video game comfort food, and I decided it was time for my Redguard Dovahkiin to settle down. (Actually I specifically just wanted to be able to adopt some of the random orphans you meet because I felt guilty about them, but you need to be married before you can do that so that there’s someone at home to take care of the kids while you’re off galivanting).

So I travelled around a bit, chatting up likely looking npcs until I found one I both liked and didn’t feel guilty about marrying (I feel bad if I marry one of the warrior adventurer types, making them be a stay at home mum) and settled on an obnoxiously cheerful argonian called Shavee because her life was frankly shit, and I thought she’d probably be good with kids.

So off I go to Riften to the Temple of Mara to arrange the wedding. I book it in for the next day, realise I didn’t bring anything nice to wear, and spend the night before the wedding robbing every house in the city in the search for something to wear. Eventually decide everyone in Riften has terrible fashion sense and break down everything I stole into raw materials and use them to craft myself an outfit and some jewellery that i’m pretty happy with. I even carefully pick out my fanciest looking sword to wear.

(don’t know why I bothered, frankly, shavee turned up wearing a shirt covered in suspicious stains and weilding a pickaxe, it’s like she doesn’t even care about this marriage)

(also for comedy purposes, bear in mind I play with survival mods that mean my character needs to eat and sleep to live, and I literally spent the entire ingame night on this and forgot to eat and drink anything either and then just downed four bowls of wolf stew right before entering the temple so I didn’t starve during the ceremony. also I discovered during the wedding that I am dying of rockjoint, which I contracted from sleeping in a pile of hay on the floor of a skeever infested cave, so even being six foot tall and jacked can’t make up for the fact that I am exhausted, running a fever, and probably covered in wolf which I spilled because my joints are slowly atrophying, and even the fanciest clothes in the world aren’t going to cover that up)

so I enter the temple, and my finance is there, and Lydia my housecarl, and some random NPCs the game thinks are my friends because I did fetch quests for them

One of the random NPCs is Lisbet. Atfter I did her fetch quest, I then did another quest in which I discovered Lisbet is secretly a cannibal and part of a demonic cult that worships the daedric prince of decay by kidnapping priests, sacrificing them, and then eating their corpses. Raw. I think the raw meat is the sticking point for me here honestly.

I ultimately decided not to sacrifice the random priest to a daedric prince in exchange for one magic ring and all the raw human I could eat, because frankly, that doesn’t sound like much of a deal to me. I was expecting there to be some kind of dialogue choice where I could nope out at the last minute, but it turns out there isn’t one, so after they drugged the priest and tied him to the altar, I just got out my sword and started swinging.

I killed most of the cult (including the town butcher, because I had brought meat from him before and was extremely pissed off that he might have been secretly feeding me humans) but a couple of them got away, which I figured was fine because they weren’t trying to kill me.

Except it turns out, if any of them escape, then every time you see them in the future there’s a random chance that they’ll fly into a violent rage and try and murder you.

Lisbet is at my wedding. Lisbet decides that clearly me marrying this random argonian woman with two lines of dialogue is the happiest day of my life, and she cannot allow me that happiness, when I’ve taken so much from her.

So she tries to kill me. Only she can’t, because I’m stuck in a pre-rendered wedding animation, and also she’s sitting next to Lydia, my faithful retainer and owner of a really big axe.

It also turns out that Lisbet is essential, meaning she can be knocked unconcious but not actually killed because she’s needed for some quest or other. And the minute she wakes up from unconciousness, she tries to kill me again, so Lydia knocks her unconcious again, and I’m stuck, I can’t move, because I’m supposed to be in the wedding animation.

Except Shavee has, not unreasonably, see all this and decided that she doesn’t like me enough to risk getting murdered, and has done a runner, leaving me at the altar, but more importantly, leaving me trapped in a broken pre-rendered animation, so all I can do is stand there at the altar, staring at the space where my fiance was supposed to be, listening to the sounds of Lydia trying and failing to beat a cannibal to death behind me.

Okay, I think, clearly this wedding isn’t going to happen, I’m going to go for the registry office option and complete the wedding using the dev commands. I do this. The priest gives me a wedding ring, and I can finally move again. I chase after Shavee, who has an impressive turn of speed on her, and eventually catch up right by the city gates. I try to talk to her.

Apparently using the console has completed the wedding for me, but not for her, because she still only has the same 2 lines of dialogue she usually has.

Clearly this is working, I can’t leave my kids with someone who can only say 2 things and doesn’t even know she’s their mum, that’s irresponsible.

I try loading from inside the temple. I get the same problem.

Eventually I figure out that I need to use the dev controls to disable Lisbet’s entire existence in the universe.

Shavee and me get married. As the priest reads the vows, I stare at Shavee and wonder why she couldn’t even be bothered to put on a clean shirt. I wonder what kind of mother she’ll be.

Once the ceremony is over, and I’m happily married to the dirty green lizard of my dreams, and we’ve agreed that until I can make her recognise my extremely nice modded house exists I will share her single bed in the unheated flophouse in Windhelm she calls home, I re-enable Lisbet, because I’m worried I’ll forget if I leave it too long.

Fun fact about skyrim, it loads in quite a lot of npcs and objects by dropping them from the sky. I have no idea why this is the case, but it’s objectively the funniest way to load in objects.

I re-enable Lisbet. She falls from the sky, clips through the roof of the temple, and lands in the pew beside Lydia, stands up, draws a knife, and is immedately beaten unconcious.

I no longer care, because Shavee now has all the exciting new spouse-only romantic dialogue options like “Could you cook something for me” and “have you made any money lately”, and I know she’ll be a great mother.

I limp to the door of the temple, while around me the guests not involved in the Lydia-Lisbet murder cycle scream and duck for cover.

I open the door to the temple, immediately collapse and ragdoll down the steps, which is how I discover I am dying of rockjoint.

I limp to the orphanage down the street, adopt two kids, and then finally remember that I’m carrying garlic bread, which as we all know, cures all known illnesses.

When I emerge back into the street, full of the joys of motherhood and garlic bread, I find the town in disaray. Lydia is chasing Lisbet through the streets with an axe and a dragon is circling overhead, burning npcs to death. People are running for shelter, screaming, while the guards try to take down an entire dragon using only the worst bows and arrows in the game.

I decide that as a parent, I have to think of my own safety first and leave them to it.

I head out of the city, intent on returning home and figuring out why Shavee refuses to move in with me. A man hanging around the stables challenges me to a boxing match. For want of anything better to do, I agree.

Halfway through the fight he dodges at the wrong moment and I punch one of his horses in the head.

Two guards attack me while I desperately try to surrender. My kids will miss me, but I’m prepared to go to jail for my horse crimes, I’m an honest citizen. Also my horse crimes seem somewhat less important than the dragon.

The guards refuse to accept my surrender. I am stabbed to death. As I collapse in front of the indifferent horse, Lisbet exits the city, followed by Lydia. The last thing I see before I die is Lydia swinging her axe at Lisbet’s face.

[dre6ming]

Stage  fright

The fright series ~part I

Part II - ‘bed fright’ here

Pairing: Austin Butler!Elvis x fem reader

Warnings: cursing, smut, oral(f receiving) fingering, semi public sex, ( that’s all I hope)

Plot: Elvis met you working on his ‘68 comeback show, he feel for you instantly, at a celebratory party for the special he makes a move and you 2 become a thing. Later he shows you the Vegas stage and gives you and unforgettable orgasm to help ease his nerves

Word count:3392 I couldn’t stop 😭😭

Author’s note: this is the second time I write this, the first time around the app crashed and it didn’t save so I had to write it again. Also English is not my first language so I apologize for mistakes, please be kind. Request are open. Enjoy!!

To be added to the tag list click here

It was a strange thing to think about, the big Elvis Presley having stage fright? But he was in fact afraid of the stage, every time he got up there he felt his heart in his stomach and his thoughts traveled faster than he could keep up. His fast skyrocketing career didn't ease that fright. He loved to sing, but if he could just plant his voice on stage while he sat back and watched he would’ve been so happy. His fans didn’t know all this though, and they ate him up every time he got up there. They screamed, cried, danced, shook, all to the sound of his voice, his music, his art.

He often doubted himself and he believed it was all a dream, one from which he would wake up soon to find he was still that scrawny poor boy, form Tupelo Mississippi. He blamed all his success on luck, that thing he was sure of. He was lucky, but now it seamed to him like his luck had run out. In his mind at least.

Since ‘56 when all this crazy dream of his started, till now he had everything, everything but one thing, love. Seeing as the only woman he ever loved was his mom, who tragically died, she left him so heartbroken, he never wanted to feel that way again, so he didn’t. He indulged himself lovers to keep for a night or maybe a few nights, but it was always just raw pleasure, never love.

That was until a few months ago, when he met her, while working for the '68 comeback special, she was Steve Binder's assistant. He liked her instantly, there was just something about her, that made her stand out, even in a room full of glammed up dancers. She always carried a small notebook with her, she either had it in the pocket of her pants or in the waist line of her skirt. The gold pen she wore behind her ear, the one she used to write down in her notebook was the only piece of jewelry she wore. Her stature was that of a 5.6 feet girl who despite her height always wore flats, never heels, that intrigued him.

There were in fact many things about her, that intrigued him, her hair was another one of them. Her (h/c) hair was always neatly styled, she either wore it braided, in a ponytail or in a ballerina bun, he dreamed of seeing her hair cascade over her back. It also looked like it would be very soft, since she never seamed to put products in it. He also liked how shy she was, while also proving to be the smartest person in the room when so opens her mouth to speak, which was rare, in his presence at least.

Her voice sounded like warm honey, he remembers the first time he heard it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you mr Presley” she said as she lifted a shaky arm for him to shake, something not necessarily lady like, since men were supposed to kiss a woman’s hand, not shake it. He shook it nonetheless and he discovered her hand was warm, soft and sweaty with emotions probably. “Pleasure’s all mine darlin’”. That was the only interaction the two of them had for 2 weeks while he worked on the special, in those two weeks his time was split between singing on stage and dancing and when that was over he’d dream about her.

He often wondered if he would get a chance to talk to her, but the timing never seamed right. She was always running out and about, getting everything done for Steve and never in his presence. So he just kept hoping until the last day, but even as they filmed the last shot and shared drinks, she wasn't there. He wondered where she was, but didn't ask.

The next time he got to see her, was at the celebratory party on the 4th of December. Steve rented a bar for the whole staff, everyone was there, even people he'd never seen before, but his eyes searched the room for her. And then he found her. Sat in a dark corner, a true wallflower, she wore a beautiful green dress with a square neckline that showed enough cleavage to drive him crazy. That dress should've been illegal, it hugged all the right places, she was beautiful, well made, with enough meat on her bones to make him wish he could squeeze her every bit in his hands.

Her hair was the next thing that caught his eye, she had braided half of it and the rest hung loose in her back, he blinked and imagined what treading his long fingers through it felt like. She also didn't have her gold pen set behind her ear, instead she had beautiful gold, stud earrings, a pair to the gold bead that hung around her neck.

His feet carried him to her before he even realized he was walking. He sat next to her and gave her one of his most sincere side smiles. She looked at him and blushed looking down, he could see the blush creep up on her face, because she never wore makeup or if she did it was always in small quantities and to enhance the beauty she already had. "Evening ma'am, would you like a drink?" He asked as he motioned the bartender to come get their order. "Evening, sir, just a water, please." He ordered himself a gin tonic. While they waited he looked her up and down, god she was everything. "No need to call me sir, ma'am, just Elvis is fine by me" she blushed again and then started to play with a tissue in her hand. "Well in that case you should call me (y/n), ma'am makes me feel old." He smiled at what she said and had to bite down on his tongue not to ask her how old she was, cause she looked young.

Elvis wanted to talk more but didn't really know what to say, so they just sat there in silence. Until after drinking some of her water she surprised him. "What's your favorite season of the year?" She asked looking at him with big, curious eyes. He took a sip of his drink that had unfortunately gone warm in his hand and was no longer appetizing. He asked the bartender for a Coca-Cola, his favorite and the proceeded to answer. "Well I think summer, days are so much longer so me and the boys get to spend as much time are we want outside and because the night is also a lot more lively we get to carry some of the fun even after sunset" she listened to him very closely, he liked that, when people listened to him, really listened. "What about you darlin'?"

The way the pet name rolled on his tongue made her shiver like a cold gush of wind just passed her, but there was no wind, just him. She looked up at the ceiling like she was searching for the answer and then looked right back at him as she spoke "Winter, I like the cold, being curled up with a book by the fireplace, hot coffee in my hand. The snow, especially the snow, I miss it, we don't get it here in LA" she said it like she used to live somewhere else,he picked up on that so it was only natural that he ask. "You ain't from LA? Where're from, darlin'?" She drank some water and started playing with her necklace. "I'm from Chicago, I moved here for school." School? He was right she was smart. "What do you study at school?" She looked down at her feet. "Economics" he was once again impressed by her, she studied a field in which he thought mostly men get tangled. "And how did Steve manage to get someone so smart work for him?" He asked giggling. "It was a summer job and it paid well, I guess I did good so he told me to stick around."

She kept looking at her feet and silence fell between them once again. He couldn't help himself when his hand moved and with a long finger set under her chin he forced her to look et him. Her (e/c) eyes were so deep he could stare at them for the rest of his life. As they dragged unconsciously closer to each other, she pulled back, almost fell to the floor. Got up and left, he stayed frozen in place and the got up to go after her.

Elvis found (y/c) out in the dark alone, she was playing around with a pebble, pushing it around with the tip of her flats, again she chose not to wear heels. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked and startled her. (Y/c) looked up at him, even in the dark he could catch the glimmer in her eye. “I’m not what you’re looking for, sir.” She answered simply and kept looking down.

He took a few steps but kept the distance between them, he didn’t want her to feel more uncomfortable. He wanted to ask what she thought he was looking for, but he knew the answer, she thought he probably wanted a quick fuck, or an affair to last a few days. He did want to fuck her, but he wanted to fuck only her from now on, he couldn’t really explain it, but he felt it strongly.

He got closer, at the sound him moving she had lifted her head up and was now looking at him. “You’re beautiful!” He said before he was able to catch himself. (Y/c) laughed dry and looked away. “There’s a bar full a girls far more beautiful than I am” he shook his head, but she could see. “That ain’t right, they are beautiful in their way, but are beautiful in a way that I like, I only saw you in there.”

She quickly whipped her head around “Why me?” He didn’t have an answer for that, and while he was lost in his mind he absentmindedly tucked away a pice of hair, almost moaning out loud at the feeling of her hair in his fingers. She moved her hand to grab his wrist, he thought she wanted him to move the hand away, but before he could do it, she kept it in place and sank her face. She had such a small face compared to his hands.

He got his other hand up and now he was holding her head in his hands. She opened her eyes and looked at him, the silence that sat between them was calming. The both closed their eyes and began getting closer. When she felt his breath on her lips she spoke again. "I've never been kissed before" he understood what she was saying, she was giving him a first and it was clear she wanted loyalty. She wanted to kiss him badly, she wanted to give him, her first kiss as well as her every other one. "It's only you, you and me."

The truthfulnesses of his words made her stand on her tip toes and their lips touched. Butterflies filled he stomach and she felt like they took her flying in the sky, she felt light. He moved his hands to her waist and she hugged his neck. The kiss was slow, Elvis had never been kissed like this and he for sure never kissed anyone like this before. When the broke apart to breathe their foreheads stayed together and they both broke into laughter.

Second person pov

Now months later here you are, together in Vegas, where you followed him, after the colonel convinced him the best way to get the money for the world tour, was to sing in the new international hotel for 6 weeks. You learned to hate the colonel and advised Elvis against visiting him in the hospital a few weeks ago. He however cared too much about the old man and trusted him, but he was just a showman that bleed Elvis of every penny.

You now helped around with the books for money, seeing as his father really didn't do a good job, seeing how much money this family leaked made you sick. You convinced Elvis to drop the colonel and for a month it was all so calm, then the old vampire had to have a fucking heart attack so that Elvis would feel guilty and go see him. The leech convinced him to stay in business for a few more weeks and then part ways full of money.

You tried to tell him that there were other ways to get the money, but he said this was the fastest, which was true, but it smells rotten.

Nonetheless here you both are, in the show room at the international hotel. Elvis wanted to show you the stage and the big room where he was going to sing. You sat down at the edge o the stage, your head on his shoulder as he looked over the dimly lit room. “What if I can’t do it?” He asks you. You lift your eyes to look at him, but he avoids your eyes. “You’re so talented baby, of course you can do it, you’ll have them eating out the palm of you hand.”

You caress his face and he smiles a little at you. You press your lips to his and kiss. His hands suddenly grab your waist and put you on his lap, his left hand rest on you knee and his right one goes to the zipper of your dress. Slowly the dress falls and reveals your breasts, as his mouth travels to you neck. “Elvis, what if someone seas us?” He moves his hand up you thigh, his thumb brushing the soft skin, making you shiver in his arms. “I wouldn’t let anyone see my girl like this, baby, just me!”

He looks down at your breasts and tries to paint the image in his head, this is the first time he’s seen them. Sure it’s been 4 months and you two shared a room, but you took time to get to know each other and you never went further than kissing. He was fine with that, since the sleep he’s been getting ever since he met was better than anything, he even gave up his pills, cause if an insomnia episode were to strike you’d read to him till he fell asleep and if he had a nightmare you’d let him cry to you about it, until he felt peace.

“I trust you Elvis” and you did, but you were too high in love to realize he didn’t really have much power over who walked in there right now, but he prayed to god that his last bit of luck be consumed now. “God satnin I’m so lucky to have you” his hand was now all the way up your thigh and it played with the wet panties. You felt hot, so hot, and in between your legs you felt something new, you felt need.

When his thumb presses against your core you can’t help but moan. “Elvis…” he was busy kissing your nipple and as he finished with the right one he bit down on it a bit. “My god!” You said, hands in his hair keeping his face close to your chest, he copied the move to the left nipple and then he kissed you. A hungry hurried kiss. “I want to kiss you here!” He says as he cups you cunt over your damp panties. “There?” You ask

“Please satnin, you will feel so good, I promise!” You nod you head and he puts you from his lap back on the stage floor, pushing you back so you lay down. He kisses his way as he lifts the skirt of your dress up. Warm wet kisses paint your inner thighs and you moan and squirm, but he still hasn’t kissed where he promised. Hooking his fingers in the hem of you white panties he drags them down you feet. He puts them in the pocket of his pants and before you can squeeze your things together, he spreads your legs apart. “So beautiful, my baby, how did I get so lucky?”

He looks at you. “You’ll need to be quiet mama, I’ll make you feel real good, promise.” You nod biting your lip and fisting your dress as he lays down to be at eye level with your sex. He lick his lips, and then you feel it. His soft velvet lips around your clit. You arch your back and moan. “Elvis!” He gives you a lick and hums, you wait for the next one, but it doesn’t come. “Baby you gotta be quiet, I can’t kiss you if you call everyone to come watch” blushing you look away. “Sorry” you say and then you feel his lips again

This time as the need to moan comes you swallow it down. As his mouth is busy with your clit, licking and sucking, one of his fingers plays at your hole. As he enters you the new sensation has you legs trembling. “Mhm lil’ mama such a tight fit, my good girl” he says and you grab a fist full of his hair. He moans against you and the vibrations go straight through you. He starts moving his finger in and out of you, curling it up at that one spot. Tears form in your eyes as you involuntary grind you pussy on his face.

He used his free hand to play with your nipples, committed to giving you as much pleasure as possible. He wanted you first orgasm to be unforgettable, so he used every tick in the book. He was also grinding his hips into the floor, desperate for some friction as his erection was almost painful. When he was finished with you here, he will take you up to you share suite and you if you wanted to keep going he would do it, but if you didn’t he would simply get in the shower and take care of himself. “Elvis baby, I f-feel…” you feel a knot in your tummy and you needed release.

“I know satnin, relax for me!” As he moves his finger faster, sucking and licking on you clit, pinching you nipples, he feels it. Your first orgasm. “Oh god…” as pleasure washes over you he doesn’t slow down, prolonging the feeling. “So good for me!” He says and gets up removing his finger, which he then licks clean. “You taste like honey mama” he says.

As you pull your skirt down, he’s suddenly up on his feet and lifts up with him, quick fixing your dress putting your breasts back in their hiding. You notice, Steve Binder, over Elvis shoulder and you feel such embarrassment that you wish the earth would just swallow you whole.

“EP, what are you doing man?” Steve asks as he approaches the two of you. “Oh you know just showing (y/n) the stage, trying to shake away some of the stage fright” Elvis answers quickly, just then, Steve’s pager goes off. “Gotta go, can’t wait to see you tonight EP. Save me a spot next to you (y/n)” you don’t get to answer as he’s already out the door.

Elvis turns to you and hugs you waist as you slap his chest playfully. “One minute earlier and he would’ve seen us, Elvis!” You try to be serious, but you can’t really be, you’re still on cloud 9 from you orgasm. He chuckles lightly as he brings his lips close to your ear. “Did it feel good, baby?” He’s smirking, he knows it felt good. “Yes” you say turning read from head to toe. “That’s only a little glimpse at how good I can make you feel mama.” He speaks as his breath travels along your spine leaving goosebumps. “So show me all of it mr Presley” it’s his turn for his skin to get covered in goosebumps as your words sink in. He shivers and kisses you tenderly. “Let’s go up satnin, I’ll show you!”

[stargirlstudio]

Can you write more Enzo smut? Maybe him coming home and some Fluf about every day life and trying for a child?

Can We?

☆ Dmitri Antonov x Reader

☆ Warning: smut (praise kink, breeding, mirror sex, use of the word slut)

18+ ONLY. DNI if under 18.

Dmitri absolutely adored everything about home life. Most days, it was him who was at home. Cooking has been his most recent hobby and he has perfected it. There was something about picking up a cookbook and replicating the dishes that filled that zest for travel. It’s not like he can exactly travel freely, always keeping his guard up.

He taught boxing lessons at a gym nearby, something about an Russian ex-guard teaching fighting skills was a big rave amongst locals. Most of the community thought it was cute that the boxing teacher and the professor were together.

“Haha! You’re so big and tough and your wife is so cute!” One of his employees told him. “You’re street smart and she’s book smart!”

Regardless, he was just happy to do his job and to contribute to a community. A lot has changed for him. Which is why seeing more and more people, families specifically, seeing them having fun had touched something within him.

Maybe he wanted a family too?

It first started with a woman coming to the gym. She looked a lot like you from behind, with a child that took her features. Dmitri often thought about what you and his child would look like. He thought that they would probably have your skin tone, his nose, a mix between his eyes and your eyes. He thought about it too much, it was starting to distract him from his routine.

While running he saw a family enjoying a picnic at a park. He thought about what activities they would enjoy. Maybe he can teach his kids a couple of defense moves, some languages. Your native language and Russian was a big must in the household. A big, strong, multicultural family. He would probably try to get little trinkets to decorate around the household to try to teach them about their culture. Double the holidays!

With all these thoughts in his head, as much as he yearned for a family, he was scared about what you would think. Maybe you didn’t want children now or you wanted to work a little more. You both had occasionally talked about children. You adored children and you didn’t mind having kids someday, but your opinion could change.

When you came home one day, you smelled the roasted potatoes and beef. Dmitri’s food was absolutely heavenly. “How’s my little chef?” You teased, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll set the table, yeah?” He nodded. Once dinner was plated you both sat down and dug in.

“(Y/N), I was just wondering, how would you feel if we had another plate at the table?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if we started a family?”

That made you stop. You dreamed about having a nice family. It wasn’t a huge priority before, especially with your career. But you were in it long enough to know that it would be an amazing time to have a family. And to hear Dmitri wanting the same thing as you made you feel happy inside. “That would be nice, I would love to start a family,” You paused. "Would you want to start…soon,” You asked.

After dinner Dmitri carried you to your shared room. Laying you on the bed, you were quick to discard your clothes. “Spread those legs for me, I want to taste you first,” He said. “Fuck I’ve been waiting for this, god I miss you every hour. Love it when you finally come home to me,”

Dmitri kissed up your inner thigh, his nose poking you. He fingered you as he sucked on your clit, giving special attention to you as you gripped his hair. He grabbed onto the flesh of your thighs as you bucked your hips into his mouth. His right hand held your hips down, making sure you felt every movement of his tongue on your pussy. He felt you tightened around his fingers, your breaths getting shallower, his right hand no longer holding you down as you rode his face. His hand jerking his cock, listening to your pretty moans.

“Fuck Dmitri!” You moaned. “Right there baby,” he kept lapping at you, wanting to hear every sound coming from your mouth. He loved the fact that he could make you cum numerous times from this alone. “I want you inside me,”

“Want what? I’m already inside you, no?” He asked. “Does my little slut want more than my fingers?”

“Yes! Yes, I want your cock please Dmitri,” You pleaded. “I want you to cum inside me. Wanna have your kids!” He crawled onto the bed positioning behind you. “What are y-“

“Look in the mirror,” He commanded. You met his gaze in the mirror. “Want my pretty wife to see how good she looks,” He said, playing with your tits, lining his cock, pressing ever so slowly. "If you want to stop just say so, okay?" You nodded. "I need a verbal answer," You gave him a small yes before you gasped at the feeling of him stretching you. "Can't wait to see how your body changes, my beautiful beautiful wife," He reached down to hold you against his body. His hands finding comfort in holding your waist. He kissed your neck before saying “Going to cum in you until I’m sure you’re pregnant. I’ll take care of you I promise,”

You bounced on his cock, clenching at his words. He was so gentle with your body, worshipped you as if you were a goddess. Careful to kiss you where he could, listening to the way you moaned for him.

“Can we cum together?”

“Whatever my wife wants,” He said eyeing the white ring around his dick. “Whatever you fucking want. I want to see it all,” Filling you until he was sure it took.

A/N: Part 2 could honestly be all smut, if you want a part 2 that is

Tag: @druigswh0ree

[targaryen-realness]

Witching chapter 4

Title: Witchling

Pairing: Osferth x Druidess!Reader

Warnings: Canon depiction of violence, mention of slavery, wounds and scars, magic, historical innacuracy (sorry medieval Scotland is not my specialty), talk about faith and christianity. The reader is fem but there is no physical description except for the fact she is a scot from the Highlands. Spoilers for season 3 of the Last Kingdom. 

for this chapter: suicidal thoughts, strong use of magic, not very christian friendly (sorry), slight nsfw 

Summary: As they are riding away from Winchester, Osferth and Lord Uhtred’s group come across a mysterious woman. She needs help but the power within her is obvious. Captivated, Osferth hopes she will stay, but as Uhtred asks her to travel with them, he cannot help but wonder what is going on in his lord’s head.

Notes: Thank you for the love on the previous chapters! Sorry for the delay on this one but I’ve been writing the Aemond fic too haha Hope you will like it!

Tags: @lugiastark @afro-hispwriter @aphroditesmoon @carlottalhn @dothrckis @mynameisbaby9

“We are leaving for Coccham”

You were already preparing your horse when Osferth told you you were all leaving soon. You knew Uthred would not want to stay any longer in Winchester, only wanting to return to his home. You were happy to leave, the charm of Winchester having worn off very fast after your night here. 

“I know. Do you need help to pack things for the children?”

You had returned late into the night, and had gone to sleep almost immediately. You were drained from your energy and you slept without a dream. You had woken up with a very curious Stiorra watching you, waiting for you to say something. 

He had not said a thing about yesterday, and had not asked you any question. You could see the sadness on his face and you felt helpless. 

“Were you close? With lady Gisela?”

“Were you close? With lady Gisela?”

He seemed surprised but nodded, handing you a bag at the same time. 

“When I left the monastery, I did not know where to go. She was always good to me, she cared for me and allowed me to stay in her home. I liked her a lot” 

He was such a good soul, you thought. Then you realised he probably never had a mother and it suddenly made sense. She was the first woman to ever open her arms to him in a motherly way. Your heart broke for him as you remembered the feeling of your mom’s arms around you, the gentle way she would caress your head, kiss your cheeks. 

“She sounds like a great person. 

-She truly was. People were not kind to her here, because she was not a christian, but at heart she was kinder than most christians I’ve met.”

The words resonated in the room and you looked at him shocked. 

“You do not mind? Your friends being heathens? 

-Absolutely not. As long as they are good people, and they are, I do not care for their faith.”

He licked his lips finally looking at you. 

“I thought that if you did not like me, it was because of this. Of the fact I am a druidess.”

He seemed taken aback by your statement, his mouth closing and opening but no words seemed to come out. 

“I do not hate you Y/n”

You released the breath you did not know you were holding. 

“I never said you hated me, I said dislike.

-Well I do not dislike you. Quite the opposite”

It was your turn to look like a fish out of the water. He chuckled when he saw your expression but did not say a thing. 

“Thank you” you blurted out without thinking. 

“For what? 

-Since I’ve been with you all, I feel like I can be myself again. After what happened, I thought I would stay sad all my life, that I would never move on. I don’t think that anymore. So thank you, for not letting me die on the side of the road, and for caring for me. I care for you too”

You had said way more than you wanted to, but it felt good, for it to finally come out. He smiled at you and you felt your cheeks getting warm. He was so pretty. More than any man should be allowed to be. His smile lit up his face and it did not help you could see the slight blush on his cheeks. 

“We should keep packing. Lord Uhtred will be back soon”

And you did, in silence mostly, trying not to act too awkwardly. You could not help the smile that was stretching your lips. It was Finan that disrupted that blissful moment with his loud voice:

“We have a problem, everyone in the house now”. 

“You killed him? How did you even do that?”

You were speechless as you were walking back and forth in the living room under the gaze of Osferth and Uhtred. 

“I told you what he said. 

-I do not blame you for hitting him. I do not blame you at all actually. It’s just, you are a very unlucky man”

He looked at you, a look of desperation mixed with anger that made you lift your hands in sign of surrender.

“I made this for you today. Maybe it will help a little. It won’t fix your predicament but it’s supposed to protect you.”

You approached him and put the necklace around his neck. It was similar to your own, but it was a different Ogham that ornate the front of the wood pendant. You kept the piece of wood in your hand for a second before saying a word under your breath. You let it fall back on his chest and he looked at it uncertainly. 

“Have a little faith, Uhtred of Bebbanburg, you are starting to make me question myself. 

-I would not dare” he answered, taking Stiorra in his arms. You pinched her cheek playfully as she smiled at you. 

“Maybe I should make you one too, would you like that?”

She nodded sweetly and you smiled back. Uhtred’s children were courageous, for sure. The chaos in their life did not seem to phase them as much as you would have thought. For that, you only had admiration for them. 

“Sister Hild!”,Uhtred, the oldest son of Uhtred, shouted. 

You turned around to see the abbess enter the house. She simply chuckled and led the boy toward his bed. 

“Lord, there can be no bloodshed. They are throwing insults out there, but they will soon tire of that.”

She smiled at Stiorra and called for her, the little girl hopping off of her father’s lap toward the abbess. 

“There will not be bloodshed” he answered and you looked at Osferth, worried for the lord. 

The sadness and tiredness in his voice was obvious. In a matter of days he had endured more than a lot of men could have put up with. 

“You should say that to Steapa. His head is hurting from thinking.”, Abbess Hild said. She looked as lost as the rest of you. 

“Is there a solution? 

-I did nothing wrong. 

-Uhtred”, she sounded exasperated. 

“You killed a monk. A holy man, and not for the first time”

You wanted to ask if that horrible man being a monk was really that important. He was still a horrible man, cruel and vile. He had said things about Gisela, and you apparently that were so degrading, Uhtred had not even repeated them to you when he came back. It was still funny to see how christians were able to categorise the importance of life. Being a holy man could be a cover for being the most atrocious monster that earth has ever borne. The reality was that now everyone in Winchester knew you were no christian, and that everyone had lied for you. You were not safe here. 

“The real question is why in god's name, is she still here? And her too? Two witches inside your house, really. 

-I am not your concern, witch”, answered Skade, and you almost laughed. 

“I did not intend to kill the monk, nor do I regret it. 

-It was fate”, finished Skade. You doubted it was fate. Everything happened for a reason, that was what you had been told since you were a child, but it did not mean you could not question it. 

“Fetch Beocca. Ask him to bring the demands of the King.

-I will tell Beocca that you are ready to talk and to listen. Be sure that you do.” 

She turned her head toward Skade and said: “It would help if you cut her throat”

Abbess Hild did not look at you, but you still felt the pressure of the blade on your throat. 

“He cannot.” she marked a pause, her next words resonating in a sinister manner, “He dare not”. 

The silence was heavy once sister Hild was out. You could feel the eyes of Skade, not looking away from Uhtred. She was plunging her claws deeper in his flesh each passing days. You were scared you were not acting fast enough. 

“Tonight Lord… You will break your oath to Alfred. You will have-

-Quiet. I have enough of your voice”

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. 

“It is a new beginning. 

-We do not care about what you have to say. 

-You do not? I am sure the lord will be happy to know you knew about his wife’s death but did not say anything”

The silence that followed her statement almost crushed you. You did not let your eyes leave her face, you did not dare to look at Uhtred or worse, Osferth. 

“I did not know she was gonna die. 

-You did. You told the other dane on our way to Winchester.” she smiled at you. 

“There is a difference between smelling death and knowing something will happen” you turned toward Uhtred who was looking at you, lost. 

“I did not know exactly. I could not have told you even if I wanted to. And when I understood, it did not matter anymore”

He did not say anything, but Skade had succeeded. Osferth had turned around on his chair, avoiding you, and Uhtred was doing everything in his power to avoid your mere presence. You found yourself in another room, Stiorra sleeping near you as you were munching on a piece of meat. You heard father Beocca enter the house but did not care to listen. The only thing you could tell was that as the voice increased in volume, the tears rolling down your cheeks also did. The little girl looked at you, probably awakened by the screams.

“Why are you crying?” she asked, her sweet voice making you smile and whip your cheeks. 

“Sorry, I’m just a bit sad. That happens sometimes.

-I’m sad too. Everyone is sad lately. 

-I know. I am sorry about your mom.”

You were expecting cries but no, she looked at you and in her eyes you saw the deep sadness she was hiding so well. 

“I didn’t want her to die. It’s unfair”

You sat on her bed, not knowing if it was appropriate for you to do. You took the little girl in your arms, doing your best to comfort her. She hugged you back, and the little sobs that you could hear from her almost broke your heart. 

“I know. But your mom would be very proud of you. You are being very brave”

You caressed her hair gently, soothing her the best you could. You did not know how much time had passed while you hugged the little girl but you finally heard the door open and turned around to see Finan. 

“We need to go”

His eyes lingered on you and the little girl before he closed the door. You put Stiorra back to bed, caressed her hair one last time and closed the door gently. Sihtric, Finan and Osferth were looking at you, Uhtred was gone. 

“Uhtred is gone, he will come back with a new agreement or we will have to flee. 

-Are we going to leave the children there ? 

-They are not at risk. We are, especially you, now that everyone knows you are no christian.”

Finan had said this in a tone he has never used to address you before. It was harcher and colder. You gulped, trying to find the comforting eyes of Osferth or Sihtric. 

“You think I have something to do with Gisela’s death? That I saw it? Could have prevented it maybe?”

They did not answer. 

“There is nothing I could have done to save her because I was on the other side of the kingdom. I knew she was dead, that’s all I saw. I did not ask for this. 

-All you have to do is break this curse! Then you will be free to go wherever you want!

-How can I do that inside a christian fortress! All I’m asking is a couple of hours in a forest! Then I’ll get the answers you want and will disappear from your life forever. You will not need to worry about me anymore.”

Your words seemed to take Finan and Osferth by surprise as Sihtric stayed impassive. You turned around and left, seeking your bag with the little belongings that you had left. You returned to the main room and heard a commotion outside. Uhtred stumbled inside and you saw the blood dripping down of him. 

“We need to leave right now.

-You’re hurt”

He took your wrist and dragged you outside. 

“Wait Uhtred!” 

You were pushed against your horse and without a word you mounted it. You could not think about anything, the only thing you remembered from this moment was the loud noise of the horses hooves and the screams of the men that were hunting you down. You had no idea how many hours you raced through Wessex like this. You had no idea where you were supposed to go. You were lost, amongst men that you once thought could be your friends, but that now seemed to be so far away from you. You were riding at the back, between two men you did not know the name of. You were lost in thought, sadness and loneliness were plagging you. You had almost forgotten the feeling. Now, on top of this you were scared for your life. You were not afraid that Uhtred would kill you, you know he would not. He was leading you to your certain death though. You were making your way to the danes. To Gorn probably. You knew that the moment he saw you he would kill you. You were contemplating slitting your own throat before he could get to you. You prayed for the entire ride. Lugh, the god you worshipped and to whom you had dedicated your life, stayed silent. So far away from your sacred land, could he even hear you? You had felt him there in Wessex, during Gisela’s funeral. You knew it. You thought of the pendant around the lord’s neck. Maybe you should not have given such an artefact to a man you barely knew. Maybe putting your life on the line for men who were using you wasn’t the best idea. For a moment you contemplated running away. Where would you go? With what silver? In what direction? The reality was that you were the safest here. It was a terrifying thought. And what about your promise? You were not the kind to break your engagements. You were a woman of your words, you had been raised with honour, and you will not break it. Even if it meant you were going to die. You were distracted by the conversation between Skade and Uhtred, and the piercing voice of the witch. 

“Then you will remain cursed!”

No one said anything but you saw Uhtred tense. The Lord was going to die if it kept going. Your bad feeling kept getting worse as you saw his state deteriorating with the hours that passed. You were seated around a fire, not with Uhtred and the others but with Skade. They were talking, and with the weak light of the fire you were able to see Uhtred’s ashy face. 

“Did they already get bored of you?”

You ignored her. Getting closer from the fire, seeking its warmth. 

“You are powerful, I will give you that.” you told her finally.

“My gods are not to mess with.”

In your head you were chanting the name of Eochu Ollathir, god of the sciences and protector of the druids and druidesses, and his daughter Brigid, guardian of the purifier fire. The fire became increasingly warmer, almost too much, and when you plunged your hand into it, owning a gasp from the men that were seated nearby, you did not feel the heat, or even the pain that you should have felt. Everyone was silent, even Uhtred and his circle, when you said: 

“Mine are not either”. 

You stood up and left for the forest that was all around you. You needed to be alone with your thoughts. You walked in the same direction far enough that you could still see the weak light of the fires, but enough so that they could not see you. Your goal was not to get lost. You sat on a rock and contemplated your surroundings. The cold wind was caressing your face, as you lifted your head you admired the night sky. The stars were shining like you had rarely seen them. For a second you felt yourself transported back to the Highlands, to the mountains of your childhood, to the orange and yellow forests that you loved so dearly. To the lake that reflected that very same sky you were looking at. You felt the tears slide down your cheeks but you could not stop staring. You smiled at the fond memories as the feeling of homesickness settled in. 

“Are you okay Y/n?”

It was the sweet voice of Osferth that got you out of your reverie. You turned around, whipping out your tears as fast as you could. 

“Are you crying?”

He seemed so sad for you. You could hear it in his tone, see it on his face, in the way he walked toward you to sit on the same rock as you. 

“You should not have come here ? What will the others think ?”

Your voice was trembling and you did not dare to look him in the eyes. 

“They won’t think anything. I think you scared them all to death.”

You laughed at that, trying to make it sound as sincere as possible. 

“Did I scare you too?”

You turned around and smiled at him, and you saw in his eyes he did not believe that fake smile for a second. His hands were fidgeting on his lap the last time you had looked at them, so you could not have helped the little move of surprise that you had when one of his knuckles gently caressed your cheek. You realised you were still crying. The feeling of his skin against yours was something you could not describe, but you were hypnotised. You did not realise you were so close to him, the heat of his body burning you more than the fire you had put your hand into a few moments ago. His eyes, blue like the most beautiful spring sky, were reflecting the same intensity as yours. 

“I am not scared of you Y/n. I think you are a gift from god. This is the only explanation. An angel.”

He almost whispered it. You were coming closer, eyes still not leaving his, but you were now feeling his hot breath against your cold skin. 

“If the church says otherwise, I will tell them they are wrong. If you are a demon, then maybe I am not worshipping the right god”

The weight of his words was heavy on your shoulder except the guilt of deflecting an honest man from his faith would be a thing you will have to deal with later. Because right now you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kiss this man until he was tired of you because you were not sure you would be able to one day be tired of him. So you did. You pressed your lips against his. He did not push you away but he froze against your body. 

“I’m sorry I-

-No! Please”

It had come out in a pleading tone, and the red on his cheeks was a good indicator of his desperation. So you kissed him again, and again. His lips were surprisingly soft, and you loved every second of those kisses. You felt yourself get more heated, that familiar pressure in the pit of your stomach slowly settling in. 

“Y/n” he whimpered against your lips. 

You loved it when he said your name. When he said it, screamed it, whispered it, and even more when he was saying it as if you were some sort of deity he was devoting himself to. 

“We should go back” you said. If you kept going, you knew it would be more and more difficult to back down. 

“Give me a minute.” he said averting your gaze. “Just to catch my breath”

You raised an eyebrow in question, but you understood. 

“Oh”

You chuckled and he looked at you offended. You caressed his right cheek gently, trying to contain your laughter. 

“Do you want me to stay or do you need some alone time?”

He looked exasperated, but you could see the hint of a smile on his lips. 

“Go away from me temptress.”

You laughed again before kissing him one last time. He looked dumbfounded and you were delighted by his expression. 

“You are not helping me. 

-Maybe I don’t want to”

You walked away, your heart feeling lighter than it had when you made the same path before. When you stepped back into the camp, all eyes were on you, especially Finan’s. 

“Where is Osferth?

-He is coming back soon, don't worry.”

He looked at you suspiciously. 

“I did not kill him and bury his corpse in the forest Finan, you can sleep soundly.”

Sihtric laughed at that and you could see the corner of Finan’s mouth lifting.

“I’m sorry. To be honest I don’t really know why I am even apologising. But if you had the impression I broke your trust, I didn't mean to.” 

They looked at you surprised. 

“If I had the ability to help Gisela, I would have done so. But I couldn’t.”

You did not wait for an answer and left them to think. You did not see Uthred on your way to the fire where you were sitting previously. Skade was not there either and for some reason, it made the absence of the lord even more worrisome. 

[vxntagedior]

fantasy

summary | you could only dream of what you truly wanted to do with your life while being stuck

pairing | mob!steve rogers x fem!reader

warning | angst, fluff, mob life, arranged marriage

word count | 1.6k

You were born into ‘the life’, one that you could never escape, no matter how hard you tried. Since you were able to walk, you were surrounded by bodyguards, treated like a princess by your father’s men.

When you were younger, you thought it was amazing, even when your father came home, a new toy in his hand for you, giving you a distraction from all the blood that still lingered on his clothes.

As time went on and you became older, a teenager who just wanted to live her life, your father kept it sheltered, saying it was the best for you and he didn’t want anything to happen to you. 

Going to college was a dream of yours, finally being off on your own was perfect for you, though you were only a few hours away from home you got the freedom you desired for years. You loved your father, you did, coming home every holiday to spend it with him, and you were crying when you saw him cheering for you when you graduated.

Both of you knew that there was a time when you were to take over everything your father worked for since he was your age, and with that, came marriage. 

He was someone you needed to grow to love, your fathers words, he could provide you with a life you would enjoy.

He was someone you needed to grow to love, your fathers words, he could provide you with a life you would enjoy.

He was someone you needed to grow to love, your fathers words, he could provide you with a life you would enjoy.

At times you believed it, he never hurt you, gave you the reins of the house the two of you shared only because it was the only thing you occupied.

When your father passed away, you and Steve wed faster than you expected, knowing that there were going to be people who wanted to take over your share because you were a woman and with Steve, it gave a clear message that the two of you were going to thrive.

You gave Steve your share of the business, it never was your desire to keep up with it, you wanted to travel, have fun in your 20s before settling down.

You never blamed Steve or your father just always wondered what would you do if somehow this wasn’t your life, you were born into a normal family.

When you graduated university, coming home, your father promised you that you would be able to take a year to yourself and go anywhere you desired, but he got sick later that year.

The dream never really went away, you were scared to ask Steve because of the thought of rejection, saying it was dangerous for you to leave knowing the multiple threats that were towards you.

Italy was the first place you wanted to visit, having a good understanding of the language and culture, it was a dream spot. Constantly looking at photos, it just made it worse for you knowing you’d probably never leave New York.

But yet each night you’d look at flights and hotels, coming up with an itinerary of all the things you wanted to do. You kept all secret to Steve, not wanting to think anything of it, it was a fantasy to you now.

You didn’t expect Steve to be home so early, quickly trying to remove any trace of you being on the computer in the office, coming down to the kitchen to make him dinner.

“Hello love.” He smiled at you, kissing the top of your head. Your relationship got better overtime, being more affectionate with each other but there was still so much tension between the two of you that neither of you wanted to talk about.

“Hi.” You gave him a small smile, even being seen as his equal, he still had his dominance over you, something you feared at times. “I’m almost done with dinner, go freshen up.”

Shooing him away, you plated the chicken, setting it down in his spot and yours, waiting for him to come back so you both could eat together.

Starting to come back downstairs, Steve went into his office to set a few papers out for later, seeing the computer still on. Hovering the mouth on the screen, he saw your past history, the hotels, the flights to Italy. He furrowed his brows, knowing you never spoke about going anywhere and yet here you were starting to plan a secret getaway.

Coming back downstairs, going into the dining room, he saw you patiently waiting for him, kissing your temple before sitting down and starting his own dinner.

Neither of you talked, the sounds of your cutlery hitting against the plate, Steve wanted to ask you about the trip but knew it probably wasn’t for him to know if you kept it so secret.

It went on like that for the next couple days, Steve giving you some space between the two of you, you noticed it quickly, not leaving a note in the morning, skipping dinner and going straight to his office when he came home.

On the third day, it was time you decided to confront him on how he had become distant.

“Steve.” You knocked on the office, hearing the muffled ‘come in’ from the other side.

“Is everything alright?” He barely looked up from his papers, finally looking up when you hadn’t spoken, seeing you now sitting in the chair across from him.

“I could ask you the same.” You sighed. “You’ve been distant, more than usual. I understand that our marriage wasn’t one of our doing and I get that we still don’t know each other that well but I assumed that we still had respect for each other.”

“Thought it would be better for you when you were to leave.” He muttered.

“What?” You asked.

“I know about Italy.” He finally looked you in the eye. “A saw the flights, the hotel a few days ago and I assumed that you didn’t tell me because I’m not going with you.”

“Steve.” You sighed.

“If getting away from me can make you truly happy, I’ll support, pay for a house, enough for you to stay afloat.” He said in agony, but just wanting the best for you.

“Steve.” You said again. “I don’t want to leave you, you’re my husband.” Reaching your hand over the desk, the pen out of his hand replacing it with yours. “That was a dream, a fantasy from something I wanted to do before we married and I know that it’s just dangerous for me to go out into the city. After I graduated from college, my father promised me a chance to explore the world for a year before I started graduate school but he got sick and you know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He frowned.

“I knew that it wouldn’t be able to happen now, you have too much going on and I don’t think you’d want me to be on my own. I’ve gotten over it Steve, there’s nothing to worry about, I’m going to start dinner if you’d like to join me.”

Much to your surprise, Steve did come for dinner thirty minutes later, a folder in his hands. Placing it on the table, he pushed it towards you.

Your mind going to the darkest of ideas, you were nervous. “What is this?”

“A hotel in Italy for two weeks, and tickets for 2, if you let me join you.” He said hopefully. Your eyes widened, carefully looking through all the documents before looking back up at your husband.

“Steve.” You said in disbelief.

“What kind of husband am I if I know you’re in misery here and would rather do something you enjoy, this trip is for you, and if you let me, I’d go anymore with you.”

“What about-”

“Don’t worry about the business, the company, any of it.” He shook his head. “I want this to hopefully be a time where we can hopefully get to know each other better, be happy together in this marriage.”

Getting out of your chair, running towards you, wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He loud a grunt at the sudden impact, helping you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist. Kissing your cheek, he rested his chin on your shoulder, happy and content.

You could barely stay still in your seat. The jet was occupied by the two of you, your head constantly looking out of the window when the pilot said the two of you were soon to depart.

“Look, Stevie look.” You squealed, seeing the city through the clouds, the lights bright enough for you to see it even still thousands of feet in the air, illuminating the city during the darkness.

“I see.” He smiled, his arm wrapped around your hips, looking out of the window with you. “Are you excited?”

“Of course, I have everything planned. We're going to go to the hotel tonight, have breakfast there in the morning, go sightseeing and go out for dinner together.” You smiled. 

Steve had never seen you so happy, his thumb rubbing against your hip bone. “Seems like you have it all figured out.”

“I’ve had it figured out for years, and now it’s all coming true and I get to experience it with you.” You turned towards him, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. 

As you parted, Steve pecked your lips once again before you turned back to the window, resting your head on his shoulder, descending lower and lower into the city.

fin.

[laedback-taurus]

Just Say the Word

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: Mentions of SA (didn't go into detail) and murder, swearing as usual A/n: thank you so much for all the love on my pieces! 'Best Present ever" has over 600 notes now and I can't believe it. Also thanks so much for this request, I really enjoyed writing this.

Request: Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Tommy imagine where the reader and Tommy are just friends (childhood friends), but love each other secretly, and the reader either gets hurt or SA/raped, doesn't matter, and Tommy is there to comfort her and gets revenge on the men. Please and thank you!

Tommy’s night goes from bad to horrible when you enter the Garrison. The sight of you sends him into a rage but he still wanted to be there and comfort you before asking for your permission to kill a man.

Tommy’s day had been a tiring one, mountains of paperwork, a troublesome family meeting, a business deal gone wrong and worst of all, he hadn’t seen you all day. He had finally retired for the night and met his family at The Garrison, Ada had told him that she’d invited you along but so far there had been no sight of you, Tommy wasn’t worried, you were probably just caught up.

You and Tommy had grown up together, being neighbours of the same age meant that you were in a way, bound to be friends. Your mothers would always say that you and Tommy were meant to be, that one day you’d be married but as a little girl you always screwed your nose up at the idea, at that age, boys were gross. But then Tommy Shelby grew into a man and suddenly the idea didn’t seem so gross to you anymore, in fact you no longer screwed your nose up at the idea, your heart would skip a beat instead. Funny enough Tommy had felt the same way, he would groan whenever his mother teased him about you, it’s not that he didn’t like you but thinking about girls in that way made him feel a sense of unease. But then you grew into a woman, a lovely woman who cared for him deeply, something he didn’t think he deserved. The older the two of you got, the more he noticed your differing behaviour with himself and his brothers, you were kind and cared for his brothers, but you took extra time with Tommy, you check in on him frequently, going out of your way to stop by and see him, which he enjoyed.

These days it was obvious how the two of you felt about each other, the way Tommy’s hand would linger on your lower back whenever other men were present and the way you would rest your head on his shoulder and snuggled into him slightly in the presence of other women. Pretty much everyone knew that you belonged to each other, even if the two of you couldn’t see it and if someone didn’t know and tried anything with the other, they soon found out.

Tommy and his brothers had were resting against the bar while Polly and the girls sat at a near by table, they chose a more public setting tonight, not feeling the need for privacy. Tommy’s eyes kept glancing to the entry of the Garrison, expecting you to walk in any minute with the pretty smile that he desperately needed to see after the day he had. He really did believe that your presence would make this dreadful day a bit more bearable but when his eyes glanced to the door one more time, all hope of that left him. You stood in the doorway, staring at him with red rimmed eyes, in a helpless motion you leant onto the doorframe to hold yourself up, that’s when Tommy noticed the state you were in and his heart all but stopped. Your makeup was smudged across your face, your mascara mixing with your tears as they left black streaks down your cheeks. Your hair had been undone; your usually neat strands were knotted. Then his gaze travelled to your dress, it was torn on the bottom, the hem that once rested on your knees was now frayed around your thighs and one of your sleeves was missing entirely resulting you having to hold that side up to not expose yourself. Tommy rushed to you without a second thought, throwing his jacket around you before he pulled you into his arms, the place you felt safest.

“Tommy” You whispered out, a plea to him to help you, to make it all better.

And just like that, Tommy Shelby was ready to kill someone.

You were currently sat in the sitting room of the Shelby home, Ada and Polly had helped clean you up and given you some fresh clothes to change into, you had opted to keep Tommy’s jacket wrapped tightly around you, it made you feel safe when he wasn’t around. He was only in the next room talking to Polly, about what happened to you. You had told Polly what had happened when she was brushing your hair after your bath.

You had set off for the garrison not long after Ada had popped by to tell you that everyone was meeting there for some drinks, if only you had gone with her. You were taking a well known short cut through a back ally when you were suddenly grabbed, you couldn’t remember much from the attack, you mind had chosen to spare you the horrid memory by blocking it out, but you do remember the feeling of his hands roaming your body, the sound of tearing fabric and the stench of his breath but most importantly you remember his face when he forced you to look at him. He was a worker for Tommy, you had bumped into him once when searching for Tommy, you had apologised and given him a sweet smile which the bastard had taken as an invitation. The last thing you could remember was watching him walk away, doing up his pants as he did, leaving you broken on the cold ground. The only thing you could think about in that moment was to get to Tommy, he would make it all better, he always did.

Tommy entered the room and approached you where you sat on one of the chairs. He knelt down in front of you, looking hesitant as he hands gently reached for your trembling ones, you never wanted him to think that you’d be afraid of him, so you reached out and grabbed his hands instead, he was your safety, you were always safe with him, you knew that.

“Polly told me some of what happened” He started, making you instantly drop your head, you didn’t want him to think any less of you over this, the thought of that alone caused silent tears to drop from your eyes, landing in the back of your hands that lay in Tommy’s, he noticed right away.

“It’s alright love, your safe now, you’re with me and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, okay?” He spoke gently, dipping his head slightly to try and see your face. He couldn’t stand that he let this happen, his sweet and kind girl had been taken advantage of and he couldn’t do anything. The sight of you in the entryway of the garrison kept creeping into his head and he couldn’t stop the rage building in him, he wanted to end the fucker that laid his unworthy hands on you, but he wouldn’t without your permission.

“I’m so sorry love” He whispered, his shoulders dropping slightly, his eyes locked on your hands with a distant look in them. This made you look up at him, your brow frowned as you looked at him in disbelief.

“You have nothing to be sorry for Tommy” You stated, he shouldn’t feel guilty over something he couldn’t control, he didn’t respond, still stuck in his thoughts.

“Please don’t think any less of me” You couldn’t stop the plea before it left your lips. His head shot up at that.

“Don’t you ever say that Y/n” He warned “Nothing could ever make me think less of you and the fact that someone made you feel that way breaks my heart” You didn’t know what to say, you just looked back at him with wet eyes.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes holding their gaze on yours, how you loved those beautiful blue eyes. With slow and careful movement, he released your hands and placed his softly of your cheeks, wiping your hot tears with his thumbs before resting his forehead on yours. You closed your eyes and melted into the comfort of his close presence, breathing in his scent, one that brought you comfort apposed to the one earlier that brought you dread.

“Say the word and I’ll kill him” He whispered, your chest tightening from the statement, he wanted to kill for you? He wanted revenge on the man that much that he would take his life? For you?

You took a deep breath, keeping your eyes closed you responded “Please”

That was all Tommy needed, he pulled away from you and strode into the other room, you quickly got up and followed him, removing his coat as you did and handing it to him when you entered the room.

“John, Arthur” He addressed his brothers who quickly stood from their spots at the table with Ada, Polly, and Esme. He didn’t need to say anymore, they could see it in their brothers’ eyes that a man was going to die tonight. They were about to leave when you called out to Tommy, he stopped and turned back to look at you, you don’t know what it was, but something made you decided that this was it. You rushed to him, pushed yourself up onto your toes and brought your lips to his. Tommy was shocked at first but quickly responded, wrapping his arms around your waist as you draped yours around his neck. You poured everything into the kiss, your trust in him, your admiration for him and your love for him and he felt it all. He pulled away and smiled at you, you returned his smile, completely forgetting about the events from early that evening for a moment.

“Be careful” You pleaded, the last thing you wanted was for him to get hurt.

“I will” He responded, “I’ll make him pay for thinking he could lay his hands on a Shelby’s woman” He let you go before turning to join his brothers.

“I’ll be waiting for you” You called out as they left.

“Come on darling, let’s get you a much-needed drink” Polly said, leading you away from the door.

It had been a few hours since the Shelby men had left, Polly had told you to try and get some rest in Tommy’s bed, she assured that he wouldn’t mind so you did just that. You had tried for some time to get to sleep but every time you tried your mind would jump back to your attack, so you decided to sit up in bed and just wait for Tommy. You were thinking about getting up to find a book when the door slowly crept open.

“You’re still up?” Tommy asked softly as he entered his room, shutting the door quietly behind him. You didn’t realise how much you really needed him until he was standing in front of you so without answering you climbed out of bed and wrapped your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest, you felt him wrap his arms around your upper body, pulling you close.

“Is it done?” You asked, voice muffled by his chest.

“It’s done” He confirmed, planting a sweet kiss to your hair.

“Thank you, Tommy,” you said as he rested his chin atop your head.

“No need to thank me love, I’d do anything for you” He confessed, you lifted your head from his chest and looked up at him, causing him to look down at you.

“Tommy…I need to tell you something that I feel is obvious now but, I want you to know that…” You hesitated for a moment, what if all of this was just Tommy being a good friend, what if the kiss was just him taking pity on you for your situation. Tommy could tell what you were thinking just by the look on your face, and he didn’t like it one bit, he had to put a stop to it. He dipped his head and caught your lips in a sweet kiss, making your thoughts cease immediately. He pulled away and once again rested his forehead on yours.

“I love you Y/n, I have for years, ever since you’d follow me around as a little girl, no matter how many times I told you to bugger off, you never did and I’m so glad you didn’t” He confessed, making you laugh at the memory, Tommy’s heart warmed at the sound, he’d missed it all day and was afraid he wouldn’t hear it for some time.

“You’ve always played hard to get Tommy, but I was determined” You teased, making him smile “I love you too” You confessed.

“No one is going to hurt you again; you’re my girl and I’ll protect you no matter the cost” he declared.

“I know you will” You placed a sweet kiss on his cheek “but can you protect me from my thoughts tonight?” You asked quietly, Tommy had asked you the same thing when he had come back from France, you held him for many nights to keep the horrid memories away and now it was his turn to do the same.

“Of course I can”

The next day word spread fast, and Tommy knew for fact that everyone knew you were his, no one would mess with you again, the body strung up the alley proved that.

[stellar-imagines]

SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝slipping through time.❞

[ Fandom: One Piece ] [ Characters: Monkey D. Luffy ]  

「Scenario of Luffy who accidentally travels to the future and sees his future self married to his S/O.」

MONKEY D. LUFFY

"Amazing, [First Name]! How do you know today's dinner is steak!?" Luffy exclaimed, stuffing himself with whatever he can reach.

"I'm always right." you chuckled in response.

The food Sanji prepared smells good as usual and everyone around the table seemed to agree, since they all seem to be eating with vigor. Luffy was sitting to your left, grabbing food from every single plate that he can reach out to. But let's be honest, he could reach anything with that rubbery arm of his. Sanji was the only one scolding Luffy for constantly stealing from the plates of the ladies' but other than that, everyone seemed to be eating and talking with one another.

"Hm, are we passing through some sort of storm? The sky seems weird, is that fog?" you muttered, glancing at the little window in the dining room.

"We're going through the infamous Thriller Mist, it seems." Robin piped up, picking up her cup of tea. Everyone stopped to look at this unique mist from the little window. You left your seat and walked over to look at the mist, followed by Luffy and Chopper who seemed intrigued by the unique colors. It was a mix of blue and purple, something that you've never seen before.

"I've heard that if we come in contact with the mist, something interesting will happen." the black haired woman mentioned. While you and Chopper were watching the mist that began to cover the entire ship.

"So as long as we don't expose ourselves to the mist, nothing will happen right?" Sanji asked Robin before taking a seat next to Franky who was enjoying his share of food.

"I would assume so."

"Then, as long as we stay indoors―" Nami was cut off when Luffy raced past her, heading towards the door.

"That sounds interesting, I wanna see!" Luffy was already at the door before Nami could even say anything, the strawhat captain opened the door and practically leaped outside with an excited shout. You let out a sigh at his reckless behavior but found yourself smiling anyway. Nami was already complaining about the captain's impatient and child-like wonder to everything. 

"Ah there he goes. [First Name], maybe you should really consider putting your boyfriend in a leash." Nami groaned in which you only laughed in response.

"It's not harmful right, Robin?" you turned towards the archeologist of the crew.

"No it's not." she replied.

"Then let's just leave him be. He'll come back soon." you turned your attention towards the door.

You picked up the book that Robin passed you and began to read about the origin of the Thriller Mist.

"When did it turn into night time?" Luffy wondered as the door behind him closed shut.

Luffy wanders around the Thousand Sunny for a while, trying to figure out what had happened to him. When he looked at his surroundings, he realized that they were docked at a random small island. He didn't think too much of it and thought that Nami probably decided to stop here. Unlike Nami, he has no knowledge on navigation and he trusts his navigator with whatever decisoins she makes. His arms stretches out, latching onto the figurehead of Thousand Sunny. For a moment, he stood on the figurehead and examined his surroundings. Of course, he ended up with no information.

After a while, his frown deepened and he returned to the deck. Even though he just had dinner a few minutes ago, he decided that he wanted to eat something. He just assumed that he probably fell asleep after whatever he was doing earlier and didn't think too much into his situation at all. When he entered the kitchem, he failed to notice how it seemed slightly different from usual ― new paint and upgraded tools. His attention was on the fridge that Sanji often locked, and he didn't notice someone coming in.

"Luffy?" he heard your voice first. Luffy stopped to turn to see you standing at the doorway, dressed in a white nightgown that stopped at your mid thighs. He took a moment to study your appearance. Your hair was visibly longer, a bit messy because you've just woken up and it wasn't hard to see that you've matured and grown older.

"[First Name]? You look different."

"I thought you were still sleeping. Did you follow me here? And what do you mean I look different?" you mumbled sleepily, rubbing your eyes. It took you a few steps to close the distance between you and Luffy. For a moment, you thought that you were just hallucinating. Upon closer inspection, you could see that Luffy looked slightly different from usual.

"Hm? Did you shrink or something? Could've sworn that you were much taller." you leaned closer towards Luffy, comparing heights using your right hand.

"Ya think so? I don't feel any different." Luffy replies before cupping your cheeks. He lets out a noise, one that tells you that he's deep in thought. You felt a bit bashful under his intense gaze but because its Luffy, you just let him do whatever he wanted.

"Um, Luffy, why don't we just head back to bed―"

"[First Nameeeee]! Where did you gooooo?" 

Both you and Luffy turned your head towards the door. Even in your slightly sleepy state, you recognized that voice from anywhere. Your eyes widened when Luffy makes his appearance. He was slightly taller than the Luffy standing in front of you and definitely more mature.  You pinched your cheek to ensure that you weren't hallucinating at all. Surely, the Luffy in front of you seemed real since you could touch him. But what you couldn't understand was, 'Why are there two Luffys?' you glanced at the two boys back and forth.

 "Who the hell are you!? Why are you touching my [First Name] like that?!" the older Luffy stomped into the room and pulled you against his chest, an arm wrapped around your waist protectively. 

"Ah! You're me! Where did you come from!? Did you come here to steal our meat?!" the Luffy holding onto you, raised an accussing finger. You wiggled out of his grasp and watched at the two Luffys stared at each other.

"Hah? That's what I like to know too." the younger Luffy crossed his arms over his chest and titled his head in confusion.

"Shh! You two are being too loud!" you whispered, shushing the two males.

Grabbing both boys by the wrists, you dragged them to the bedroom that you and Luffy were currently sharing. The room was simple, gray carpet flooring with wood plank walls ― no different than thee wooden planks used around Thousand Sunny. It contains a single king-sized bed, a table with a mirror and shelving, lastly a four door closet that holds yours and Luffy's clothes. The older Luffy leaps onto the bed, sitting up against the headboard before pulling you onto the bed. You made yourself comfortable, leaning against his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. On the other hand, the younger Luffy hopped around the room in awe, poking at everything that interests him.

"Woahhh! Is this a new bedroom!?" he exclaimed with a wide grin.

"Did you slip through time or something?" you wondered out loud.

"Now that I think about it, Robin mentioned something about the Thriller Mist....." the younger Luffy mentioned absent-mindedly.

"That's probably why. You've slipped into the future. The Thriller Mist knocks you out when you inhale it which will send your consciousness to the future or the past. But don't worry, you'll return once the mist in your timeline clears up." you replied, giving the male a gentle smile.

"Hmmm, I don't really get it but you're me from the future.....and you're [First Name] from the future?" the younger Luffy watches as his older self wraps his arms around you and lays his chin atop of your head, sitting right behind you on the bed.

"Well, to put it simply yes."

"Hey, how far in the future am I? Hey, hey, tell me all about the adventures that you have! Are you the Pirae King yet? Hey, hey, tell me all about it! You must have a lot of adventures already!" the younger Luffy takes a seat in across you, crossing his legs in front of him. Luffy hasn't changed at all, and seeing the young Luffy bouncing with excitement and anticipation made you smile. The future Luffy refuses to talk too much about the adventures the crew has gone through.

"No! It will spoil the fun!" the future Luffy huffed.

"So, why are you staying in a room with [First Name] now? And you're being very clingy." young Luffy grumbled.

"Eh? She's my wife so this is normal! Shishishi!" 

"Wife?!" 

"I remember telling you that we'll get married when you're about this age." you chuckled softly.

"Getting married means a lot of food, right!? A banquet right?" the young Luffy was brimming with excitement and it was quite an adorable sight.

"Yeah! It was a huuuuuuuuuuuge party! There were so many food! A lot of meat! Beef, pork, chicken, fish and everything! Sanji makes the best food! Everything was super delicious." future Luffy starts drooling while recalling the wedding party that was held to celebrate your marriage. While the two Luffys talk about food, the younger Luffy starts glowing all of a sudden.

"Woah, I'm glowing! That's cool!" young Luffy examined his body, looking at his arms before having a look at his entire body which is starting to glow the same color as the Thriller Mist.

"It looks like it's time for you to leave." you smiled at the younger Luffy.

"Aw, that sucks. I want to hear more." he whined, sawing back and forth.

"Just a word of advice when you get back. I am always right." you reached out and ruffled his head, giving him a gentle smile.

Luffy instinctively shut his eyes when the glow started to blind the entire room. He watches as the future you and himself fade into the bright light that overwhelmed his senses. Noise disappeared and for a second, Luffy felt as if someone threw a flash bomb right at him. After a few moments, he opens his eyes as if he had just woken up from a deep slumber. When he finally came to, he was met with the night sky.

"You're finally awake, Luffy." he snaps out of his reverie when he heard your voice.  

"Where am I?" he mumbled sleepily.

"We're just out at the deck. Everyone else is doing their own thing." you replied.

A moment of silence passes by the two of you and a gentle breeze passes by, teasing your hair. Luffy's eyes slipped shut as he enjoyed the feeling of your fingers in his hair and the cool breeze. The way you were combing through his hair relaxes him, and Luffy can't help but melt into your arms. His head rests against your chest while he holds onto his straw hat over his chest. He hears your heart beating in his ear while you hold him tenderly by the back of his head, shifting your position so that he's laying on your thighs.

"It feels like I'm your wife, taking care of you like this." you chuckled.

"But, what did you see in the future, Luffy? Let me guess, we got married?" you chuckled.

For a moment, Luffy stared at you with a dumbfounded look on his face. He blinked a couple of times and remembered what the future you asid to him before he was sent back to where he came from. Luffy didn't really understand what you meant by the fact that you're always right but when you accurately guessed what he had seen in the future. He couldn't help but let out a small laugh and grin widely at you.

"Shishishi, you're always right, [First Name]!"

Total: 1984 words Published: 10.10.2022

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ Hope this was what you wanted!― author Lou

Thank you for requesting! Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed! Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Strange Books

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) Alien: Why did this captain want to kill an aquatic mammal? Human: In a previous voyage it bit off his leg. Alien: And that is reason enough to drive them to madness? Human: I have seen boomers do it for being told to wait five minutes in a line so we set the bar pretty low there. -------------------------------------

Alien: So a man lost in the woods and being hunted by animals finds a stranger who takes him into the depths of your version of eternal torment? Human: Pretty much. Alien: Why in the name of the stars would a human follow a complete stranger who leads them into pits of darkness and despair!? Human: We hadn’t really been teaching the old “Don’t talk or follow strangers” thing to our kids as much back then. --------------------------------------

Alien: What is your people’s longest story? Human: Arabian Nights probably. Alien: What makes it so long? Human: The fact that it takes an average of a thousand and one days to finish it. Alien: Impossible! Human: I know right? Human: Filler arc writers have been trying to replicate it for years and never even get close to that kind of timetable. ------------------------------------------

Alien: So this is a novel about vampires and the solo surviving human? Human: Pretty much. Alien: How is that special? Human: Because at the end of the novel the lone human realizes that because everyone else is now a monster that has become the new norm, and as the only remaining human he is now the monster. Alien: That’s some heavy stuff. Alien: Why did the movie suck then? Human: Because it would have meant Will Smith was the bad guy, and he can never be the bad guy. ------------------------------------------

Alien: Run that by me again. Human: So there are animals on a farm that rise up against the farmer and take control of the farm. Alien: Seems straight forward. Human: And then they establish a corrupt communist state that only benefits a few of the animals and enslaves the others. Alien: ………. Alien: This is beyond bonkers. Human: If that’s too brutal for you then I would recommend watching “Chicken Run”. ------------------------------------------

Alien: I find it rather adorable how that simple human in this story likes to run his fingers through hair. Human: Oh no. Human: Which book was that again? Alien: Something about rodents and males I think. Human: Stop reading now. Alien: but- Human: Just stop while you are ahead. -------------------------------------------------- Alien: Why is this dark lord obsessed about jewelry? Human: It contains much of his power and is the one thing keeping his spirit tethered to the world. Alien: Is that not the same as that the dark lord who is incapable of murdering a small child? Human: That dark lord copied off the original dark lord who liked jewelry. Alien: Were they able to kill children at least? Human: He did have a lot of trouble dealing with four children sized men…… ------------------------------------------------------- Alien: So this story is set in the future and yet there are no firearms? Human: Well personal shields are cheap and very powerful in that universe, so having a gun is kinda redundant. Human: I would have thought the giant city sized worms that produce a space traveling narcotic. Alien: That is not as surprising as you might think. Human: Wait, seriously? ------------------------------------------------------------ Alien: So a werewolf and a vampire both want to mate with this human woman? Human: For some unknowable reason, yes. Alien: Which one wins her? Human: The vampire. Alien: Shame for the werewolf. Human: That guy’s creepy ass instead wanted to mate with her daughter. Alien: Why is that creepy? Human: She was a baby at the time. Alien: No wonder you drove werewolves into extinction. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Alien: So your planet is invaded by aliens who are so technologically advanced they cannot be defeated? Human: Pretty much. Alien: How did you defeat them in the end? Human: We sneezed on them. Alien: …………………. --------------------------------------------------- Alien: So this is a rodent that is also a vampire? Human: That drinks the blood of vegetables rather than humans. Alien: Vegetables do not have blood. Human: With how vividly they describe it being sucked out you wouldn’t know. --------------------------------------------------- Alien: These children have a magical house of tree and can travel through time? Human: They go throughout time on adventures. Alien: Wouldn’t that cause untold damage to the timeline and alter the present? Human: Oh without a doubt. Alien: Then why did they not stop? Human: Because later on an old man claiming to be a wizard said it was okay. Alien: That sounds so stupid when you say it out loud. Human: No better than a mysterious woman giving a guy a sword and telling him he is now king. ------------------------------------------------- Alien: Why does this goose have bumps? Human: I want you to know how much I am resisting hitting you with a book right now for that.

[aquanova99]

Haunted (Cato x Reader)

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Part 7

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A/N: Im sorry its taken so long I am trying to wrap up book one but how do I change it and leave out unnecessary details... I'm working on it

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Cato’s POV

The room was tense. Seeder’s gift was sure to draw some attention. Rumors swirled around Rue’s death sparking anger in District 11. While the victors had become friendly throughout the years of mentoring bringing them together it wasn’t a common theme to grieve over other tributes like this. From the same district, maybe. Then again, alliances did not normally cross over between more than one district outside of District 1,2, and 4. The mentors whispered what her actions would bring upon them. Haymitch had been in and out of the shared viewing room. Only talking to Chaff a handful of times.

 You’d been largely silent focused on the screen anytime y/n came into view. She was stone faced the morning after Rue and Marvels death. To someone from the capitol it could seem that she was simply waiting for the next canon to go off, but it would have been a stretch. Anyone with half a brain could see she was in a catatonic state. You wondered if Thresh really believed Marvel had gotten help in his endeavor with Rue. Likely not, Thresh seemed shaken up enough that he seemed the type to avenge his tiny friend and from what you saw he had made his way to the part of the arena covered in a field of wheat. If he knew about the dangers it was as a good place as any, you certainly wouldn’t have chased him out there.

Cashmere decides to sit next to you, clearing her throat and wakes you out of trance you seem to keep finding yourself in. She doesn’t speak to anyone in particular, but you know she’s directing every word to you. “She’s different, that one. We will have to help her when she comes back.”

“Don’t all tributes get that, mentors for the first year.”

“Hm? I don’t know what you mean, I must have been thinking out loud. It would be a shame if she couldn’t dig herself out. We don’t want her to go through the same thing Annie did.” With that Cashmere floated away. Annie. The girl from 4. She had come out a little more messed up  than the usual victor, dissociating completely in certain situations as if she was somewhere totally different. Finnick had taken upon himself to help her get through her spells, and as much as he could try and hide the pair had grown dependent on the other, completely and totally in love with each other. It was easy to ignore everything when they were home, but Finnick was often called away and playing the role that was forced on anyone who had received help from sponsors. Even those who got nothing could be forced into keeping some annoying capitol citizen ‘company.’ You remember it had only been a month after you had gotten out of your own games. You still hadn’t left the arena, I guess that was your own fault for finishing so quickly, it never processed right. The woman…you couldn’t remember her name, you barely remembered her face, all you saw was a threat. You’d broken her arm the second she touched you, and then…well its lucky there were more people hanging around because before you knew it you were unconscious.

Killer Cato. The only good that came from that name is that until Brutus and Enobaria deemed you safe you were lucky enough to avoid traveling back and forth to the capitol. Most of the time the tributes were allowed to live their life as victor peacefully until the victory tour, most of the time. Some victors like the morphlings or the ones who weren’t conventionally attractive or maybe the ones who got lucky and survived the games on their own were left to their own devices. Most of tributes from 1, 2, and 4 were asked and more often than not told to pay a visit to the generous people of the capitol more quickly than the others. Unless she did something unappealing to the viewers y/n would probably suffer the same fate. Cashmere’s words soothed you, maybe there would be a way to keep her away from that life for now. Seeing as she risked her life for family, or something close to family, its likely the threats the capitol offered would force her to comply…These feelings were weird. You didn’t understand why it mattered. If she won you would only see her once a year once you were both mentors. Out of all of the tributes, she seemed like she had the best head to win, that’s all. Right? Maybe you can get some use out of the training center.

Hours go by, and it’s a slow day. The gamemakers are going to have to do something to pull them together, Y/ns eyes are hollow as she sits by the fire, seemingly waiting for anyone to come find her. They don’t. Arioch and Clove wont be lured by something so similar to what destroyed their supplies and killed an ally, not yet anyway. You wonder if Clove and Arioch had realized he had been ready to turn against Arioch, if they did neither showed any sign of doubting him. The red-headed girl is still spying on them, waiting for an opportune time to try and steal whatever foods been handed to them by the sponsors. Clove had been keeping Arioch calm, but he was getting angry. Lyme was only giving what was absolutely necessary for them to eat. She worried they wouldn’t be able to ration it properly and judging by how annoyed Arioch was getting she was right. It was clear he was fond enough of Clove that he knocked it off whenever she would say something about it but she had her fair share of complaints. You were shocked no one had gone where Thresh was hidden, it seemed to be abundant with food. If you knew about it anyway, which you were almost positive your tributes wouldn’t. The academy you trained for the games had classes on interviews, deadly snares and traps, and the biggest majority fighting, there were also classes for food and foraging but it was never forced. And realistically, you never needed to know about that, seeing as there was always a steady stream of sponsors willing to bet on your districts training.

Then finally as everyone is ready or already retiring to their rooms for a night of unrestful sleep, the trumpets sound. Haymitch sits back down in a spot next to you, a his hands clenched together as he rests his arms on his knees. Not even looking at his screen. You realize he knows what is about to happen, what the announcement will be. And you couldn’t have been more wrong. Claudius Templesmith has an announcement. You expected a feast, something to give Peeta a chance but no, the words ‘rule change’ freezes every victor left in the room. You realize why Haymitch has been largely absent today. You realize Peeta’s one sided pining has worked, and you also realize that maybe, it wasn’t so one sided, she’s teary eyed as his name leaves her lips the second the announcement is over.

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Y/ns POV

You were about to be sick again. You had never felt so conflicted. You should wait until morning. Every instinct screamed at you to not be so reckless.  You couldn’t sit still, couldn’t sleep. You had your night glasses anyway…the ones Thresh had told you about. Thresh. The one who could have had an ally had you been able to save Rue. Rue. The young girl who could have made it if she hadn’t teamed up with you. Really it was the tributes of District 11 that originally urge your feet forward. You felt a guilt begin overing you under a weight that seemed to be getting heavier to shake off the more you allowed yourself to think of either of them. And Peeta. You could have ruined everything. He had continued playing up the star crossed lovers, why else would the gamemakers make a rule change like this. You move quickly and silently, theres only one place he could be, really. Arioch had gotten in your head, if Peeta was really that badly injured you may not have much time left, and you’d be damned if you lost anyone else. You only stop to rest when you’re close enough to the stream that you hope you’ll be able to hear or see Peeta.

The second daylight hits your still weary eyes you sit up. It stirs you from a rather unfulfilling sleep  and you are off to try and find Peeta again. You almost give up several times before you manage to find that blood-streaked boulder. Hes close. He has to be.

You were amazed how even near death Peeta seemed to have his sense of humor intact. In other news, you suddenly remembered how much you hated the act of cleaning wounds.

“Something wrong?” He asks after seeing my face.

“Shut up.” Peeta laughs as you try not gag while cleaning his wound.

“How do you manage to kill anything around here?”

“You never know, I may be killing you as we speak.”

“Cant you just use that spear?”

“My food isn’t draining pus all over me. Blood I can handle.” You shove him some dried fruit and continue working on him. Its clear the wound is far above any medical capabilities you thought you had. After working on his leg for an hour you are finally able to wrap, and all you can do is hope for the best.

“I need to clean your…undershorts.”

“Okay.” He says it so calmly you grit your teeth, you’ve cried too much in that past couple of days for nakedness to be another thing on an ever growing list that makes you squeamish. You just avoid looking in his direction while he takes them off and turn your back to him as you get cleaning. “So no pus, but nakedness is okay? Or are you just being stubborn like how you were with Haymitch?”

“Speaking of…have you gotten anything?”

“No, what did you get?”

“Burn medicine.” You don’t need to say anything about the bread its an unnecessary truth. “It was when it was earlier in the games so he could probably afford it then.”

“Uh huh, not because you’re his favorite or anything.” You’re unsure what to say. You cant deny you and Haymitch understand each other on a different level. And survival wise, you could outlast anyone here. Maybe he could only bet on one of you. But with the rule change… ugh the whole rule change. The capitol has to be waiting for you to kiss him or love him. I mean youre washing his damn underwear, cant that be enough.

“I bet you he’ll send you something when he can.”

“Its okay Y/N, besides I know what will make me feel better.”

“Me too. Medicine.”

“No, you. I mean obviously you’re doing something right.”

 You toss him some damp clothes to put back on. “Lets hope I am and your fever breaks.”

“Seriously thanks for coming back for me, I know you didn’t hav—” You cut him off and hugged  him as tight as you could

“Just get better okay.” Because you did want him to get better. Whatever the reason was, the gamemakers are falling for his pining and giving you a chance to return it. Honestly after everything that happened with Rue, you kept thinking back to his words the night before the game. And this was something the games wouldn’t change. You weren’t in love with Peeta, and you couldn’t pretend. He was more of a family member or friend you would do almost anything for. But kissing him would feel wrong, be wrong. A hug is as much as the capitol would get for now, if your feelings changed later and you both made it out of here maybe you could play along.

“Is that all I get.”

“Get better and then maybe, maybe you get more.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” Peeta was so good at this. It didn’t take him long to doze off. You take the time to collect more water and hunt for anything near the stream. You know through the slower moving parts the fish could be easy pickings. You debate staying with Peeta, but you both need something in your system. Maybe you should let him rest, but you cant hunt for anything with him out in the open. You relent after about an hour and coax him into walking with you down the stream, as long as he can anyway. You comfort him as he gathers whatever strength he has left and when hes ready you find a small cave like formation a little way above the stream. You let him sleep and work on making the cave as unnoticeable as you possibly can. You let him sleep and work on making the cave as unnoticeable as you possibly. You manage to further downstream and pick off a few fish where the water is slow. You try to ignore how badly you missed a few times and instead try to figure out how to make yourself more appealing to any possible sponsors, you cant tell him you love him but if you cant give him medicine, maybe you can give him hope. The audience might turn their indifference into pity if you could make them believe that you cant allow yourself to fall in love yet. You take a deep, dramatic breath before entering the cave.

Peeta is still sound asleep in your sleeping bag. Good. It will be easier to do this when hes not fully coherent. You crouch besides him and brush a strand of hair away from his face, you try to show your hesitation, tapping your fingers and shaking your leg before shaking your head and kissing him on the cheek. A cheek that is rapidly raising in temperature.

Peeta stirs, “Mm Y/n?”

“I caught us some fish.”

“Thanks for finding me,”

“It’s the least I could do. Just get better for me, okay?”

“You know what would really make me feel better?” You roll your eyes, he is much better at playing the lovestruck boy than you could ever hope.

“You already got one. But if you actually get better…” then what? You don’t want to kiss him, “then maybe.” That’s the best you can do for now.

“I’ll take it.” He smiles at you. You can tell the fever medication you have is having next to effect on him. If he doesn’t get medicine soon he’s going to die. You both know it. You hear a soft crunch of leaves and you’re up in an instant. Peeta grabs your hand to try and stop you from doing anything dangerous, you squeeze his hand and put the other on his cheek. You then quickly grab your knife and sneak to the edge of the cave, you try not to laugh when you see the silver parachute at the foot of the entrance. Haymitch is obviously rewarding your actions. Not that they aren’t out of real concern but regardless its clear that hes going to keep pushing for you to act like this if its what sends you food. Realistically, what you want is medicine but you aren’t likely to get that at this stage in the game.

“Hey Peeta! Looks like Haymitch decided to send you something after all.” You are able to convince him its for him soup is easier for him to eat, otherwise he would have sent actual food. It seems to make sense to him anyway. Apparently even soup is a struggle for Peeta, “And here I thought you wanted to get better, I guess no kisses for you.”

“Not fair.”

“Please Peeta, you have to get better.” It takes entirely too long for him to stomach the tiny pot of broth. Once he sleeps, you put the last of your bandage supply left on his warm forehead. Great. Now you wish you had made out with more in the arena before you blew it up. Whatever. You could mope while you kept watch since its all you could do for now. Anything else is just hope that the audience enjoyed what you did today.

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Cato’s POV

Haymitch continues to go in and out of the room. If this had anything to do with the rule change, you can only hope he continues doing it. Y/n finished telling a story about her and her brother scrounging around their house to look for anything valuable to sell to buy their younger brother something for his birthday. To probably most people, it should be clear she had some other way to get their brother an old guitar. Music is something that seems relatively prevalent in her house, you think back to her singing with Rue. You wonder how often she’s gone without eating to feed someone else in her family, she was barely sleeping to continue to check on the boy from her district. For some reason the kiss she gave him kept replaying in your brain. He was definitely hurting her chances of making it, but its clear she struggles to not help out other tributes. That probably isn’t making Snow very happy. The concern on her face grows as she finishes her story and rechecks Peetas leg, which won’t make it without any medicine soon.

She cleans the bandage again, clearly not helping make a dent in his fever. They both know the blood poisoning will take him out soon if the games don’t end in a matter of maybe two days tops. And after the camera has shown Thresh doing quite well…it doesn’t seem like Peeta would be the one to outlast his fellow tributes. Haymitch almost collapses into the couch, you’re shocked he doesn’t spill the whiskey in his glass.

“You alr—” you try to ask before he puts one finger up, effectively quieting you while he takes a sip. Guess he’s doing worse than you thought.

“Its too expensive.”

“The medicine.” Its meant to be a question but you know the price is too much for any sponsor to fork over.

“Hopefully Effie and her gaggle of friends have gossiped enough to get an idea to the gamemakers.” Almost on cue the trumpets sound an announcement. When Claudius Templesmith begins speaking Haymitch laughs to himself, “Sometimes I think I might actually love that woman.”

Just as quickly as relief hits, Peeta threatens to follow Y/n to the banquet. Haymitch mutters something about Peeta making everything difficult and steps out again. You think how hard it must be to do this alone all these years. Most all of the other districts have someone else to divide the work out. Haymitch looked as tired as his tributes in the arena. Maybe ten minutes pass before he stumbles back into the viewing room. You just hold out some kind of spirit in a cup. He raises it to you before letting his head fall back.

“Nothing else I can do.” Y/n has been arguing with Peeta on letting her go to the cornucopia. The small vial meant nothing to you but Y/n stared at it for a long while before going back to the cave.

‘I guess I don’t have to go to the feast after all. Haymitch sent you some medicine.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah it says to take it like a shot. But it smells nasty. You’re stomach will probably try and reject it.’

‘I’m sure it wont.’ He snatched the vial with what little strength he had. You didn’t miss the smirk she had as he tried quickly drank it back. She played a big gamble on his ego and it paid off. She immediately plugged his nose and covered his mouth before he spit anything out. The effort was already draining the little energy he had, his attempt to force himself to throw didn’t help.

‘I’ll be back before you know it.’ Peetas anger reached all the way to the capitol. His eyes brimmed with fury as sleep overtook him. Y/n was smug at her victory, but she quickly leaned over him. Fussing over the sleeping bag covering him, cleaning any remaining medicine on his face, brushing his now sweat soaked hair from his face. ‘I hope you know I had to. I need you to make it.’

You watch as she presses her lip against his and try to find some logical reason on why you suddenly feel the need to go hit something. Y/n wastes no time. She starts arranging the cave to be almost undetectable. Luckily, she had been working on it before, as she finishes quickly. She walks for awhile and sets up a fire, with dusk settling it gives her good cover and she has time to cook everything she had caught the past day, making a decent meal of rabbit and fish. She finishes and fills the water containers when she gets back to the cave before allowing herself to sleep again. She only allows herself a few hours. You find yourself worrying about her lack of sleep.

The camera pans to the other districts again. The girl from five is starving and damn near freezing to death. Her item will definitely be something to protect her from the weather. Cato and Clove are cold too, their breaths making small white clouds, but they have the experience with cold weather training. Thresh seems fine too. You wonder what will be in store for those three.

‘Come on. I promise to make it a good show.’

‘No way. I kill her.’

‘Don’t be like that. You’ve killed almost everyone else we’ve dealt with and since you missed loverboy, its only fair I get a shot at her now.’

You don’t have to wonder who they’re talking about.

…’You’ll drag it out.’

‘Of course, when I’m done with her they’ll forget why they were ever rooting for her in the first place.’

‘Good thing you’re on my side, Clove.’ He chuckles, Clove grins with a sense of pride

‘So I can do it??’ Too excited, you think

‘Yeah sure.’

You didn’t expect Clove to do anything else. One of her critiques from the academy was quite literally how she wasted too much time making a show of things. She needed to prove she belonged. Its why all of you were shocked when she was the one picked from your district and not another eighteen year old to match Ariochs anger. Then again, if Arioch had another one of him out there they would have torn eachother apart before getting out of the blood bath. Probably over who got a certain kill.

Y/n began her journey back to the cornucopia. You wondered why she walked somewhat sideways until you remembered the big explosion. The ear must have been permanently damaged, or damaged until she made it back. She stopped more often than not to make sure she was hearing correctly. There was nothing. She arrived to her original hiding spot with no issue, with the glasses she slowly moved as close as she could. Arioch and Clove had sought out the space closest to the lake, which ended up helping Cora, the girl from five. She had snuck around the other side of giant cornucopia, hiding inside and ensuring she would be the closest to the feast the second the table appeared. Thresh was at the biggest disadvantage, positioning himself at the back of the cornucopia, He would need to listen for when the table came up because he definitely could not see from there.

District 5 had the right idea. Y/N realizes this the second she runs off. She wastes no time and runs in immediately after and grabs the tiny bag for her district, unfortunately Clove comes to the same realization. Y/n tries to follow District five but it’s clear Clove will be there before she can run off. You wonder why she only brought her knives but then again, the other weapons would require more time for her to aim and might end up hindering her. Cloves first knife is knocked away. You’re sure Y/ns cut up at least a little but not enough to stop her. She throws her own knife and it lands in Cloves right shoulder. Fortunately, that’s the arm she throws with. Unfortunately, this incites a rage you werent aware she had. She yanks the knife out, and switches it to her other hand quickly. Her aim is off now, and the knife whizzes past y/ns head. Y/n makes the mistake to look at where the knife landed and in that second Clove is tackling her to the ground. You remember your conversations on the roof that seem so long ago, and know she wont make it out of this. Your heart sinks to your stomach. Clove begins relishing in this, she knows this information just as well and is going to make her suffer just like she said she would.

‘Well if it isn’t the girl on fire. Whats the matter 12, worried about getting the medicine to loverboy?’

‘Worried about getting your screentime?’ She smirked until Clove threw a relatively soft punch considering her arm was clearly struggling to lift itself.

‘Not at all, I promised to give the audience a good show. Its funny because if it was Arioch right now, he’d probably finish you off pretty quickly. Would that be better for you? To go as quickly as your pathetic little friend?’

The mention of Rue has her struggling to unseat Clove with no avail, ‘Shut up. You don’t get to talk about her.’

‘The girl who hopped around in the trees. Rue? Well, we took care of her, and nature will take care of loverboy. and now I’m going to take care of you. Now, where to start?’ Y/n lifts her head trying to do anything to get Cloves balance off just to get a better chance of getting out of there. Clove is taking delight in her struggle, ‘I think we’ll start with your mouth. Make sure you blow loverboy one last kiss.’

‘Wow so clever. But if I can only say one last thing…’ Clove is puzzled for only a second more before Y/n spits in her face.

Clove gets one more punch as Y/n continues to struggle. When her nose begins to bleed she stills becoming unblinking, staring down her last opponent. You see Thresh coming up to the table freezing as he hears the entire conversation. ‘Lets start then,’

She barely leans over to trace the outline of Y/ns lips before he yanks her off his former ally. Flinging her to the ground. ‘You’re the one who killed her??’

Clove begins scooting backward, frantic at another opponent she clearly did not expect. Arioch had begun looking for another tribute where Y/n ran out of and was only now heading back to his original hiding spot.

‘No! No, it wasn’t me.!’

Thresh picks her up again holding her against the cornucopia. ‘I heard you!’

Arioch is already beginning to run as Clove begins screaming for help. He answers her but he’s too far. Thresh smashes her into the cornucopia. Y/n is still sat as she looks up in shock. Cloves body has the slightest moan escaping her lips. You look away, hating that the death wasn’t quick that somewhere in her mind she feels the pain coursing through her body. Your eyes snap up when Thresh speaks again.

‘Just this time Y/n. For Rue.’

Y/n eyes look at the two bags he has, ‘Don’t do it Thresh. Its not worth it.’

‘Clove!’ Ariochs voice makes Y/ns stand in a defensive position.

‘You better run now, Fire Girl.’ Y/ns scrambles to collect her knives and begins to run. She pauses when she hits the edge of the forest. Thresh has run off with both backpacks which could be a really smart or really stupid move. She looks at a frozen Arioch leaning over Clove and continues to run towards Peeta.

Y/n makes several stops as she runs towards Peeta, once to make sure her nose had stopped bleeding, it had. Once to see if her arm had stopped, it had not. She squeezed it shut until her feet hit the stream. She stops several more times to bend over and hold her head. You assume she is getting dizzy. The punch probably giving her an effect of a concussion. Every time she stands again she seems to have trouble getting her bearings but she makes it to the cave. Her hands shake as she struggles to open the small box, it contains one needle. She fumbles to unzip the sleeping bag and the second Peetas arm is exposed Y/n tries to center the shot. She has to take several deep breaths to calm the adrenaline that is sure to be coursing through her body, her hands are still shaking but she is able to slowly press down on the needle’s plunger. When shes finished she throws it across the cave and curls up into a ball, finally succumbing to the sleep that’s been eluding her since finding Peeta.

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Y/N’s POV

You couldn’t cry, not again. You’ve cried too much in these games. One, its embarrassing, two the capitol cannot have another excuse to make you look weak. So when Peeta tells you Thresh’s picture is in the sky you ask if he can take the first watch and you cover your face with the sleeping bag until the tears stops falling. You have a feeling Peeta understands, but to what extent?

You’d woken up to the sound of the anthem. Peeta stroking your hair like you had done to him when he had been sick. You had to explain how you had worked with District 11. How Thresh moved you to a safe location after the tracker jackers, how you had helped fix his shoulder, how you’d gotten them both food and blew up the career’s supply, and the worst part…the part you didn’t want to ever discuss, Rue. Peeta had made a remark about how he must have felt like your alliance was still technically in place since Arioch and Clove had still been around. But you knew deep down, that it wasn’t about you, but Rue. The feast you had gotten for excitedly hugging Peeta and peppering his face with light kisses had suddenly turned to lead in your stomach. You had pretended to get caught up in the moment, and apparently, it had been enough for Haymitch to let you both eat real food while hiding in the downpour that had been happening the last couple of days.

Under the sleeping bag you think about anything besides your fallen allies. So you retrace the events leading up to the meal, the kisses, Peetas retelling of how he fell in love with you…well how he fell in love with Katniss. You had been friends with Katniss long ago, when you were both really young, and the memory albeit fuzzy was there of a young more cheerful Katniss telling you all about how she sang the valley song for her class. Then the mining incident happened, and the resentment that your father was one of the few to make it while hers was gone forever drove a divisible wedge. After that, it felt wrong to compare situations. Without your own father being able to work, you had lost him too. Pride had made him bitter and somewhat cruel, and he refused to work. Your mother was so focused on rehabilitating him, it fell on you to help your brothers. You remember how your father said nothing before you left, except to make himself seem like somewhat of a hero. You had once thought about how different you and Katniss had grown to get to the same indifference towards your parents. You could barely manage to be in the same room with your father while Katniss still held him in the highest regards, you at best felt pity for your mother for being tied to someone who believed he was better than everyone. Katniss for lack of better words, hated her mother for the abandonment. You were so similar you wished everyday you could restart the friendship you two had had long ago, you also wonder what she makes of this whole act and Peetas story that so clearly reference her. He was great at changing small details to make it plausible. You had just promised him that when you both made it out of there he could take you on an actual date, playing enough to keep the audience’s hopes up, well and Peeta kept poking fun at you saying he was planning on going all out when you got out. Regardless, you both played on this story and got the incredible food that you were trying to inhale before he looked outside the cave and saw Thresh’s picture in the sky.

Thresh. You should have told him about that extra backpack you’d hidden in the beginning of the game. Stopped him from taking Ariochs backpack. He was sure to have made Threshs death slow…and painful. You think about the last time you ever saw him he finally used your name. The capitol food threatens to make a reappearance. You give Peeta one of your knives, tell him to hide it in unless he absolutely needs it. He could train with the arrows tomorrow because honestly, you weren’t proving to be very good with it. You wonder if Katniss was irritated at how poorly you aimed, you wonder if she would train you on it when you got home. You wondered if you could be friends again. You focus on that instead of the sleep that’s eluding you again now that you’re thinking of Thresh’s murder. Now all you had was Cora and Arioch. Arioch you could handle, Cora…you remember how she almost agreed to be allies, and had least said you wouldn’t gun for each other.

Eventually, Peeta wakes you so you can keep watch. You comply soundlessly. You’re so thankful you aren’t alone anymore because really, you were barely making by before the rule change. You were tired of killing, you didn’t need anymore blood on your hands. Of course, this is the hunger games, and you knew that likely you wouldn’t have a choice.

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Catos POV

Peeta had proven being kind could save your life in the game. You saw Y/n’s panic as she spun around expecting Peeta to have eaten those berries. Instead, they find the District 5 girl. Y/n cleans the berry stains from her mouth and hands, and closes her sunken, hollow eyes before trying to move Peeta along. He meanwhile, was waiting for the two of them to be able to eat together, really he’s quite lucky, most people would have snacked on the berries before meeting back up with an ally. His naivete, sparing him a quick death. She claimed she wanted to get some space before Arioch barreled through the woods but likely, she was uncomfortable with another dead tribute. She needed to compartmentalize. The capitol wouldn’t like how torn she seemed everytime a picture was shown in the sky.

You noticed Haymitch was all but telling her to accept Peetas affection. She seemed to be trying to suppress her attraction to the guy, but you were unsure how much of it was an act. It was clear the audience was going crazy over what they saw as fear of losing someone she was in love with. Fear of admitting something that was too good to be true. Their return would ensure the two of them would be forced to get into a relationship immediately. You wondered if they could keep up the whole pretense.

In the real world the victors we’re headed back to their respective floors for dinner. You and Enobaria went to the couch while Brutus went on about how Arioch would win out.

The temperature was dropping quickly too quickly. This was the finale. Everyone would have work off tomorrow throughout all of the districts. And Arioch now had the advantage of complete body armor. Seemed a little unfair but I guess it was two against one. Peeta was about as good as Glimmer with the bow and arrow. Y/N held Marvels spear as they headed to the cornucopia. The camera pans to Arioch confidently walking deeper into the forest where the girl from district five was picked up. He’d been hunting since brutally torturing Thresh in the downpour. The fight could go either way, but Arioch was going on pure rage and vengeance. He made the death painfully slow, making cuts that individually wouldn’t kill anyone. Thresh fought back well, the weapon and armor he had stolen came in handy. The rain however made it hard for him to see clearly and Arioch still had the glasses. You were somewhat surprised when Arioch didn’t scream his success after finishing him off.

The gamemakers has quieted the background noise they had going on. The snarling was unmistakable. You could hear whatever creature was back lick it’s lips as it growled in Ariochs direction. Muttations. Half wolf and half human like things that looked like… oh god. You turned to look at Enobaria, maybe you were wrong. Her scowl told you your suspicions were correct. She quickly stood up and retired to her room. The rest of your victors were silent, knowing how she felt about the mutts, about herself every day she woke up, every time she looked in the mirror. You wondered if she thought she was just like those mutts on the screen. You wished there was something you could say, anything to help. But words weren’t really your strong suit.

When you turn back to the screen Y/n and Peeta have heard Arioch and the mutts running towards them. She should have thrown her knife the second she saw enter the clearing. But she frozen. Utterly frozen at the giant creatures following him, figuring out exactly what they were. Who they were.

Peeta yanks y/ns arm. They barely managed to make it to the cornucopia without any injuries.

‘It’s them. All of them.’ Y/n whimpers as she fumbles to tie a bandage on Peetas once again, bloodied leg.

‘Are- are those their real eyes???’

You force yourself to look at the muttations a little more closely. The eyes definitely looked entirely too human. It was a sick thing to do to them. Even dead their bodies served the capitol. Always loyal to the capitol.

The hair on the wolves had different textures, the one who could only be Glimmer had blond shiny hair, the one with the number four had curly hair throughout his entire body. You refused to look at them any more. You looked up when you heard y/n scream out just to see Arioch yank her hair to throw her back on the floor. Peeta quickly tackles him, even injured it’s clear Peeta has experience fighting but he’s injure and Arioch quickly has him in a headlock. Y/n is already trying to figure out where to aim the spear.

‘Drop it or he dies.’

‘He dies and you come in second.’

‘Then I get one last kill.’

‘Yeah real impressive killing someone injured, but seeing as you couldn’t kill him the first time I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised you need to prove a point.’ She grinned, she was playing a dangerous game. Peeta was weakly clawing at Ariochs arm but the stalling could only go so far.

‘I was supposed to win. I t should have been me or Clove..’

‘Come on Arioch, we all know I’m the one you have to beat. Look I’ll even go no weapons, no arrows, no spears, no knives.’ Arioch laughs at what seems is y/n signing Peetas death certificate.

It finally registers to Peeta what Y/n wants him to do. She sighs and pays her leg as she bends down eyes on Arioch while she lays down the spear. Peeta manages to dig the knife y/n had told him to hide straight into Ariochs thigh.

He’s caught off guard and instinctively goes to remove the knife while screaming in pain. Y/ns gamble paid off, she throws her own knife towards his head. It nicks his already injured forehead sending a gush of blood down his face. The pause gives Peeta the room to push him off the cornucopia. Arioch isn’t one to go down easy, you think at the mutts that are way too excited to have him back down on the ground. Y/n rushes over to Oeeta cupping his face in her hands…

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah. Much better now.’ He pulls her in for an embrace they share until Ariochs screams begin cutting through the freezing air.

You find yourself holding your breath as they try to figure out how to help Arioch. Peetas convinced he would waste all of the arrows. Y/n is unsure without her knives but exasperated takes the bow and arrow from Peeta. And for the first time that you’ve seen in the arena, she hits her mark and the canon goes off.

‘That’s it! We did it!’ Peeta says through chattering teeth. Y/n collapses next to him and rests her head on his shoulder. Just like that the mutts disappear back into the woods. Y/ns eyes trained on the remaining wolves, saying goodbye to her friends one more time.

‘I can’t wait to go home.’

Peeta tries to cheer her up again, ‘you know what this means?’

‘What?’

‘You have to go on a date with me now. You promised.’

Y/n laughs, ‘you promised actually…but I’ll hold you to that.’ She lifts her and pulls his chin closer to hers and presses her lips firmly on his. His hands pull her closer before she pulls away. You find one of your nails has begun going back and forth on your skin, digging into it and leaving a large raw scratch in the palm of your hand. Some act.

Where’s the damn hovercraft? Hours go by and y/n and Peeta are forced to huddle together to try and preserve whatever body heat is left between the two of them. You go back to the viewing room where most of the victors are watching as intently as you plan to.

‘What’s taking so damn long?’ Y/n asks by the time the sun begins to rise again

‘Maybe we need to move away from the body. They probably still need to collect it.’ Already y/n has figured out what’s beginning to happen. She presses her lips together but nods.

‘Well then let’s move.’

They both move slowly. Probably as quick as their bodies can move after spending the night in freezing weather. They make it to the edge of the clearing, certainly farther than they were from the district five girl. When the hovercraft eventually grabs Ariochs bloodied body Claudine’s Templesmith’s voice echoes through the arena. You lean as close to the screen as you can just in case you miss anything.

‘Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revisions have been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!’

Y/n closes her eyes and takes a deep breath knowing deep down this was coming. She looks at Peeta. Injured and takes a step back.

‘Dont y/n. One of us should go home.’

She shakes her head, ‘No.’

‘Y/n—‘

‘Peeta, I can’t. You could go and see—‘

‘Don’t be dumb y/n. I’m not going without you.’ She’s about to protest when he says, ‘that’s fine, you’ll outlast me anyway.’

He’s about to remove the bandage he has wrapped around his leg that’s already soaking through when y/n screams, ‘No! Just wait. Please.’

‘They have to have a winner y/n.’

That’s when she hatched the idea. ‘No. They don’t.’

She holds out the night lock berries. Peeta is about to protest when she tells him to trust her. They split the berries. Your throat is dry. You want to scream at both of them. Stop. Don’t give everything up now.

‘3.’

‘2.’

….

‘1’

They both have the berries on their lips when Claudius Templesmith comes back, frantic ‘Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Y/N L/N and Peeta Mellark! I give you the tributes of District Twelve!’

But while the announcement caused y/n to freeze, it caused Peeta to bite down. You could hear a pin drop in the room. Y/n spots the berries out and turns to Peeta excitedly, before she sees him try to open his mouth but fail as the night lock seizes his system and he collapses to the ground. Her moth drops and she’s frozen until the canon sounds one. Last. Time.

Haymitch smashes a glass across the room, “Damn it!” He storms out with Chaff following behind him.

‘No. No no no no. Peeta wake up.’ She falls to her knees and lifts his head on her lap, when he doesn’t respond she tries to shake his shoulders. ‘Peeta! Wake up, damn you! We just won. We’re supposed to go home. You owe me. You promised me! You said you would take me out so GET UP!’

She’s bawling by the time she gets out those last words. When the hovercraft comes for her and I guess Peeta as well she covers his body not making any effort to leave. You grimace, you know what happens when you don’t voluntarily go to the hovercraft.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen I am pleased to present the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games! Y/N L/N’

‘No! It’s both of us. Shut up!’ She screams as Peacekeepers descend from another hovercraft. She seems to be to busy rocking Peetas upper body gently alternating between telling him it’s okay to get up and begging him to open his eyes.

The peacekeepers each grab one of her arms and she goes feral; kicking and screaming protests, ‘No! LET ME GO! You can’t leave him please! No!’

You find yourself wanting to tell her it’s going to be okay. But you know that’s not entirely true. Still, you wish you could comfort her. The room is a mixture of mouths agape, people holding in their shock by covering their mouths, and looking at eachother with a look that can only be described as confusion. You all watch as her cries get quieter and quieter when another peacekeeper sedates her. And just like that her body ascends into the hovercraft, coming back to the Capitol.

That’s when it hits you. Y/ns coming back. And she’s going to have a whole new game to play.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Taglist: @chloe-skywalker @ietss @tomihoeka @chiimiki @akinatrix @inky-sun

[waterlilyrose]

Hi, there. Concerning the story according to the show, not the book, what do you think would have happened if Kate had actually died of anaphylaxis after the bee sting? I think that's when, in the show, both Anthony and Kate realized they were in love (confirmed later during their first dance). So, what would Anthony have done with that information? My guess is he would have married Edwina so he could take care of Kate's family. Or at least offered, though I think he would tell Edwina they would only be married in name only and he would never lie with her and he will leave it to his brothers to continue the Bridgerton line. I mean, really, the more I think about it, I don't see Anthony surviving the mental illness brought on by having the same traumatic event happen to him twice. This is an utterly depression path to follow, but if you put on your Shakespearean tragedy cap on, how do you see this playing out?

Ooof that would have been rough. But you are probably right - there is only so much a person can take. Everyone's limits are different but once it's pushed too far, that's it.

He would be destroyed. Utterly broken. And full of regret that the time he did have with Kate was wasted playing pretend at being a perfect gentleman for a woman he only had a placid affection for and which she said again and again was a bad idea.

The house would fall into disarray. Lady Mary and Edwina's sobs could be heard echoing through Aubrey Hall, Lady Danbury would be silent because not even the quickest wit in the world could make the situation better and Anthony... He permits himself a week. One week of shutting himself in his room, refusing meals and letting the stubble build up on his jaw. He spends a lot of that time staring at nothing. And then after a week, he emerged from the study, freshly washed and shaved and went to his study to do some work.

There is no question about marrying Edwina now. It's just...not happening. And not just because of Anthony's inability to pursue it any further. Edwina will not HEAR of a marriage now. Her sister is gone and any semblance of childhood is over. And Kate had said, hadn't she, that Lord Bridgerton was a bad fit? How can her first act after Kate's passing be marrying a man she disapproved of? She didn't listen before but she must now.

Lord Bridgerton is kind and more than generous. He says that whomever Edwina marries, she will be provided for. He will pay her dowry, her Mama's upkeep, her modiste bills, whatever she wants. Her sister isn't here to do it now so he will.

Edwina starts to see, in her grief, what she would not believe - that the animosity between Lord Bridgerton and Kate might not have been pure hatred.

"I thought you and my sister hated each other?" She would ask timerously.

He'd smile sadly and say: "No...she hated me. And sometimes I wonder if she did in truth."

Eloise's season passes without a single word regarding Anthony's plans to marry. Anthony already knows he is about as likely to marry now as his mother is likely to remarry. It's just not going to happen.

The one time that the family sees almost an explosion of grief and anger from Anthony is about a year later. Violet mentions that they should travel to Aubrey Hall. Anthony doesn't even look up from his dinner when he refuses.

A year of Anthony's silent determination to work through the pain and to stop nagging his siblings on how to behave (truthfully what is the point?) means that Violet has fallen back into old habits of being a touch pushy and tries to guilt him into going. But he won't. No way. Absolutely not.

Then Violet tries to tell him that 'a few bad memories cannot keep them away'... it's nothing the Bridgertons haven't heard before but it triggers something in Anthony.

He slams down his cutlery on the table so hard that Hyacinth shrieks in alarm and silence rings out. Anthony is on his feet looking at Violet down the dinner table and, for the first time, Violet does not see her son but the Viscount. A man of power and status and influence. And it chills her to the bone.

"Bad memories? It holds a few bad memories? I lost the two people in my life that I worshipped the most. Both died in the garden; both died by a damn bee. And you want me to go back? You want me to have the servants air out the linen and plant new flowers while you start to lecture me about marriage again? I will NEVER set foot in Aubrey Hall again. And you better hope I don't. Because the house is in my name. I have the ownership. So there wouldn't be very much anyone could do...when I strike a match and watch as it burns to the ground."

Anthony leaves the room and no-one speaks for a long time.

Benedict is the next Viscount and Violet knows it. And she will never say another word about it.

[slasherhaven]

Slashers reaction to the reader referring to them as their boyfriend/partner to other people for the first time?

The Slashers reacting to their S/O referring to them as their Boyfriend/Girlfriend to other people for the first time:

Thomas Hewitt

It was no secret that you and Tommy were together, always by each other’s side, acting lovesick. 

Luda May wasn’t shy about voicing your relationship, already referring to you as Thomas’ partner and to Thomas as your boyfriend, she already had her mind set on a future of weddings and grandbabies. 

Her talk had always made the two of you flustered and embarrassed, neither of you really confirming her claims of your relationship.

You had been down at the gas station with Luda May and Thomas, she had asked Thomas to come to help move some crates and you had already been there to help her watch the place.

A group of travellers had pulled in, getting some gas and stocking up on snacks.

Being a friendly and trustworthy face, you were sent out to greet them and ask if they needed assistance. Thomas had been lifting another crate and had looked over to you, always protective over you, especially when it came to strangers. Eventually one of the men had commented on Tommy’s staring as he worked, scoffing to himself.

“Oh, that’s Tommy, my boyfriend. He’s just a little protective, you never know the type you might run into ‘round here” you reassured them with a smile, fully knowing that it was the Hewitt family that nobody wanted to run into around here.

Of course, Thomas overheard you, and your declaration instantly made him blush, quickly busying himself with his work again.

He’s overjoyed though, hearing you refer to him as your boyfriend, sounding so proud of him, he loved you so much and each day you convinced him that you felt the same. He also likes that these strangers know that you’re together.

Michael Myers

You were seeing some friends and Michael had gotten bored, heading out to find you and continue with his usual stalker shenanigans since he seems to enjoy stalking you when he’s bored and you’ve left him at home. He saw you talking to some of your friends, you were saying goodbye.

They had tried to get you to stay a little longer but you had smiled, telling them that you had to get home to your boyfriend. Of course they had demanded to finally meet this mysterious boyfriend but you shook your head at them before heading home, where Michael would already be when you arrived.

So, you had been referring to him as your boyfriend to your friends for a little while...he isn’t going to bring it up, he’ll act like he never heard it, like he was at home this whole time.

He won’t say anything but he ponders it for a moment, if that’s how you want to refer to him...he’s more than okay with that. Maybe more okay with it than he would admit to himself.

Jason Voorhees

You had gone on a walk through the woods and had wandered into the old camp. You hadn’t been aware of intruders but accidently stumbled upon a group of trespassers who had just arrived and where getting bags out of their car.

The group had turned to you, surprised but friendly. You, on the other hand, panicked a little, knowing you shouldn’t interact with them too much. Jason would be coming to deal with them some time soon. 

“Uh sorry...I was just looking for my boyfriend...bye!” you practically ran off, back towards the cabin, knowing that Jason would want you to be somewhere safe and out of the way. 

Jason had seen it all from his hidden spot in the trees. At first he had been worried when you stumbled upon the group, worried that you would get hurt or something.

But his heart fluttered when he heard you referring to him as your boyfriend, liking the way it sounded and how it made him feel.

You had been staying with him for a while now and the two of you had become close, certainly entering a more romantic relationship. But that was the first time you had used the title, and you had done so with so much ease.

Yes, he was your boyfriend, and he adored you.

Brahms Heelshire

You and Brahms were certainly dating, at least he definitely thought so and believed that you did too.

The delivery boy had come with your most recent grocery delivery, and you had answered the door. 

The two of you were chatting for a while, slowly irritating Brahms, who was sure that the delivery boy had a thing for you.

You had never really thought the delivery boy liked you but he was getting friendlier lately and you knew how much it bothered Brahms, so you had just casually slipped in some talk about your boyfriend (not mentioning Brahms’ name of course), just to get the point across to both of them.

The delivery boy had always been friendly and that had always made Brahms a little jealous but now that the man knows that you have a boyfriend, Brahms feel more confident that he won’t try anything and it makes him just a little less jealous.

Brahms is looking pretty smug when you close the front door and he comes to greet you, you barely have the chance to roll your eyes at him before he’s pulling you into a kiss. 

You can’t help but smile fondly at how proud and happy he seems with his new title.

Bo Sinclair

You and Bo had been getting closer, what you had definitely wasn’t ‘casual’ but neither of you had really talked about it. Bo didn’t like talking about that kind of stuff and you didn’t want to bring it up and put him in a bad mood. 

It was fine...until a group of visitors arrived in Ambrose.

It wouldn’t be the first time that a woman had flirted with Bo and he had allowed it, even flirted back to lull the strangers into a false sense of security. This would be the first time it made you jealous and you had every right to feel that way.

The flirtatious woman had laid it on fairly thick, Bo had only chuckled but hadn’t really returned the flirtations. You appreciated that but you still wished he would just tell her to stop or be a little less encouraging. You understood, you just didn’t like it.

Bo was looking at their car while you went to tell the group what was going on, telling them that ‘your boyfriend was just checking their car and should be done soon, he’s very good at his job’. You saw how the woman pulled a face at that, which satisfied you at least a little.

Bo had already been on his way over and had overheard how you had referred to him, making him smirk to him, both because of the title but also because of your jealousy. 

Now, he just had to mess with you.

He walked over, announcing that their car needed a new fan-belt as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.

You knew that he was being extra obvious in front of the woman, probably more to mess with you than anything, and you knew that he was going to tease you for this later on...but at least he was showing off your relationship in front of these strangers.

Vincent Sinclair 

When visitors to Ambrose came by, Vincent would watch from a distance (especially when it came to you, just to make sure you were safe). 

He’d listen to conversation he could catch, and he was currently listening to you speaking with the group about their car that they needed help with.

“Sure, I’ll just get my boyfriend, Vincent, to go pick up your car” you told the group politely with a smile.

Vincent was taken back by how you referred to him as your boyfriend, and how you did it so causally. He wondered if you knew he was listening, that he could hear you.

Obviously the two of you had gotten very close as of late, sharing more than a couple romantic moments, but you had never brought up the topic.

It’s fair to say that Vincent is a little flustered when he next sees you but you had truly made his day, made his week even.

Lester Sinclair

You were in Ambrose when a pair of strangers walked into the garage, telling you that their car broke down and some guy gave them a lift into down, saying that his brother owned the garage. 

“I’m guessing it was my boyfriend who gave you a ride” you chuckled fondly, obviously knowing that it was Lester but keeping up some sort of act. 

“Yeah, he did” Lester beamed proudly as he walked into the garage behind the pair. 

You blushed a little, getting a little flustered by getting caught referring to him as your boyfriend, not that he seemed to mind.

When he heard the way you referred to him, it just put a huge smile on his face. He kind of knew that he was your boyfriend but this was the first time you had actually said it.

He greeted you warmly, pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek, still beaming. It was sweet really. If Bo had seen, he probably would have gagged.

Bubba Sawyer

The brothers had been bickering and arguing, which was nothing new. Of course, you had started to defend Bubba, since he was pretty unconfrontational.

Drayton had scoffed and complained about you defending Bubba. 

You had just responded with “well, he is my boyfriend”, without even thinking about it.

Nobody else (other than Bubba) was surprised by the word ‘boyfriend’. Just rolling their eyes at you and continuing with their bickering.

Bubba had the biggest smile on his face.

He accepts his new position as your boyfriend instantly. Yes, he is your boyfriend and he loves you so much.

He just gets a little giddy and wants to give and receive a lot of affection from you after that.

Billy Lenz 

You had been on the phone with a friend. They had invited you out for the evening but you had politely declined, telling them that you were spending the night in with your boyfriend.

Of course, Billy had been listening in on the conversation, and as soon as you referred to him as your boyfriend he was grinning like an idiot.

It was more than obvious that the two of you were in fact dating, you just hadn’t put a name on it and Billy hadn’t really thought to do so. He felt like you had just made the relationship official, but he was more giddy at the thought of other people knowing that he was your boyfriend, that you would talk about him so fondly to your friends.

As soon as you put the phone down, Billy is on you, wrapping you up in his embrace, making you giggle as you returned the gesture, wondering what had gotten into him.

“I’m your boyfriend” he stated proudly, grinning from ear to ear before peppering your face with kisses, making you giggle again.

“Yes you are” you agreed fondly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

You were at Asa’s home when you got a phone call from a friend, asking if you wanted to hang out that evening but you already had plans with Asa. And that’s what you told them.

“Sorry, I’m spending the evening with my boyfriend” you told them, smiling when they complained about not having met your boyfriend yet.

As soon as you hung up, Asa appeared next to you, holding out a drink for you. You couldn’t help but get a little flustered, knowing he had heard and also knowing that you hadn’t really defined your relationship like that yet.

“You could have told me” was all he really responded with as he sat down beside you. Clearly not minding the way you referred to him.

Asa isn’t an idiot, he knew that’s where your relationship was, he just hadn’t brought up the conversation yet. Now it seemed like it didn’t have too, and that was good to know.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

You had decided to visit Jesse at his office, which he had told you that you could do whenever you pleased. When you arrive and were asking for him and the location of his office, you were met by a woman who seemed pretty hostile about your presence.

You definitely didn’t want to cause any trouble at Jesse’s work but she was being rude and you were getting tired, you just wanted to visit Jesse for lunch. 

“Look, I’m just here to visit my boyfriend, I’ll just call him and let him know I’m here” you sighed, about to give up as you pulled your phone out of your pocket.

Luckily, Jesse had just been passing through the reception and had witnessed the end of your conversation. Smirking to himself when you referred to him as your boyfriend.

He approached before you could unlock your phone, tucking it away again as you smiled up at him. 

Jesse nods to the woman, placing a hand on your back before guiding you up to his office.

Once you’re alone, he will playfully question you about how you had referred to him. After messing with you a bit and making you a little flustered, he reassures you that it’s perfectly fine. He is happy to call himself your boyfriend and to call you his partner.

From then on, everyone knows who you are and that Jesse is your boyfriend. You won’t be stopped or questioned again, don’t worry.

Otis Driftwood

You and Otis had gone to a nearby bar together, just to get out of the house and have a little fun. You had wandered over to the bar without him and when Otis looked over, he saw some guy flirting with you.

Jealousy and protectiveness (maybe some possessiveness) had Otis marching over to the two of you. 

“Uh, yeah sorry, I have a boyfriend” he heard you tell the man, shifting away from him in discomfort. You glanced around and relaxed when you saw Otis approaching. “There he is!” you smiled brightly, you were quick to push yourself away from the bar and meet Otis.

He instantly wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him, protectively and possessively as he glared the man down.

Damn right, he’s your boyfriend. And he’ll make sure everyone here knows it.

You had never actually called him that before, never actually made whatever the two of you had official. But now you had, that’s all he had to know.

Baby Firefly

You and Baby had gone out to a bar to have a few drinks and probably cause some trouble. She was dancing even though nobody else was, just her, having a great time, as you watched on adoringly.

Some guy and come up beside you and asked who she was. 

With a grin, you had proudly exclaimed “that’s my girlfriend!” 

Of course, Baby had heard you and smiled about it to herself.

Once she finished dancing, she returned to you and the same guy moved closer, introducing himself to her and asking for her to introduce herself in return. 

“I’m their fucking girlfriend” Baby stated proudly with a grin of her own, wrapping her arms around you as if to get her point across even more.

Yautja (Predator)

Of course introducing your family or your friends to your current partner (or ‘mate’, as he would call you) wasn’t really an option at the moment. But you had mentioned that you were seeing someone.

You were on the phone to a friend when they started asking about this mysterious person you had been seeing.

So, finally you told them to give your boyfriend some privacy, the two of you laughing before ending the call.

He had been referring to you as his mate for a while now and you assumed that was the same level, if not even more serious, than the title of boyfriend, so you figured it was okay.

And your mate thought so too. He knew what ‘boyfriend’ meant since you explained human dating to him, so when he heard, he knew what you meant and it just filled him with pride, knowing that you definitely felt the same as him.

[sunshinereddie]

ok so i watched another hallmark movie last night. it was ‘one royal holiday’ and. OBVIOUSLY NOW I HAVE A REDDIE HC BASED ON IT. 

au where eddie is a prince, and he and his mother, the queen, are visiting derry, a small town in maine for business. except before they can get back home, a huge snowstorm traps them in the city and they’re unable to get home. they’re panicking, trying to figure out what to do, how to get home, where to stay... when a helpful citizen overhears their panicked conversation, and offers to help.

richie tozier’s always had trouble minding his own business and keeping his mouth shut, and while usually that lands him in trouble, this time he suspects that maybe it can help. but technically, this time it’s kind of not his fault, considering how loudly the woman in the coffee shop is complaining about their flight home getting cancelled and having nowhere to stay. the young man with her (who richie presumes to be her son), tries to reassure her that it will be fine, that they’ll come up with something, but the worried look on his face leads richie to think that the man believes otherwise. 

so richie steps up, interrupts their conversation, and offers a solution. he tells them that his parents run an inn in town, only five minutes away from the coffee shop, that it’s a wonderful place to stay, and that his family would be more than happy to welcome them while they figure out their travel arrangements. 

the queen does not like this one bit. after all, they’re royalty, she and her son certainly cannot be spending time in an inn, which would be riddled with commoners and absolutely not up to royal standards. she’s about to firmly reject richie’s offer... but her son speaks up before she can. 

“that would be wonderful,” eddie says, his smile wide as he looks at richie, a smile that the young prince does not often wear. 

richie smiles back, completely unaware that he’s currently talking to royalty, and tells them to follow him down to the inn, that he’ll personally help them get settled in. 

cue eddie and sonia staying in the tozier family inn, and while the queen spends most of her time up in her suite, as far away from these “normal people” as possible, eddie finds himself spending as much time as he can with richie, who makes him laugh, who treats him like a regular person (even after finding out who he really is), and who makes eddie feel a way that he’s never felt towards another person before... a feeling that eddie cannot get enough of. 

richie knows that falling in love with a fucking prince is a terrible idea. he knows that he should have stopped things the second he started to get that sweaty palms, weak in the knees, butterflies in the stomach feeling whenever he looked at eddie. he knows that he’s setting himself up for nothing but heartbreak. but...

when eddie looks at him, with a smile that makes richie forget about every single bad thing in the world, and when eddie laughs at his unfunny jokes like it’s the most hilarious thing he’s ever heard, and when eddie chooses to sit next to him at dinner, and when eddie looks into richie’s eyes after eds slips on some ice and richie catches him... well, richie can’t stop his heart from falling. 

eddie’s just as aware that what they’re doing is dangerous. that something like this could never work out, that his mother would never approve, but... he’s never met anyone like richie before. he’s never felt this way before. he’s never felt... this happy before. he knows that he and his mother will only be here until the snowstorm clears up, that the moment it’s safe to fly again they’ll be on their private jet back home, and that he’ll probably never see richie again. 

but for now, as richie bakes cookies and makes hot chocolate for eddie and tells eddie stories that make him laugh and takes his hand every time they step outside to “make sure the royal prince doesn’t fall and hurt himself!”, eddie tries not to think of what will happen when the snow clears. he’s perfectly happy right now. 

[sinfulspencer]

I’m not sure if this is gonna make sense but I like thinking of dom!spencer and I feel like it would be fun to read a fic where he takes the sub!reader’s panties after he c*ms in her before they head home for the day. He could make her go around like normal then Derek notices what is dripping down her thighs as she’s giving him files or something and basically Spencer ends up sharing her with Derek.

If you’re not comfortable with this lmk. I think it would be fun.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: dom/sub undertones (Dom!Reid, Sub!Reader, SoftDom!Morgan), daddy kink, light degradation, dirty talking, oral sex (female and male receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex

Words: 6.4k

A.N.: This is my first time writing a threesome so I hope it’s not as bad as I’m pretty sure it is. Hope you liked this! I’ve had so much fun writing it. I will probably write more. ;)

“Spencer, I...”

He covers your mouth with his hand, his mouth attacking your neck. “Be quiet, doll. I don’t think you want someone to know what I’m doing to you.”

You close your eyes, throwing your head back. His thrusts are getting quicker, his pace much more irregular than before and you can barely stand on your own legs as you feel them buckle. You know you’re close.

Moaning softly against the palm of his hand, you slide your own down to touch his other one that is resting on your hips. Spencer’s chest is pressed to your back, his tongue tracing circles before his teeth sink into your skin. He knows you love this, he knows you want to be loud but you can’t.

If somebody finds out you’re getting fucked inside the bathroom, it’d be the end of your career and your reputation in the FBI.

“Fuck, you feel so good around my cock. – Spencer whispers, his words sending shivers down your spine as you grip his hand – Can’t wait to have you all for myself tonight, I’m going to take my sweet time with you.”

You open your eyes, nodding your head to his words. You can’t wait either because going home means being able to be loud, his name rolling off your tongue louder and louder each time.

Spencer closes his eyes, his face buried in the crook of his neck from behind as he keeps pushing his cock in and out of you. His thrusts are sloppier, his hands are sliding down on your hips as his fingers dig in the smooth fabric of your skirt.

You bend down just enough, your face pressed against the cold surface of the wall. Spencer uses his hands to steady himself, watching the way his cock disappears inside of you as your juices coat all of it. The sounds you’re not making are going to be the soundtrack of that night and he can’t fucking wait to hear all of them, wanting to ruin you.

“Are you close, doll?”

He doesn’t need to say anything else because soon you’re coming, your whole body shaking because of the pleasure crashing through you as you squeeze your thighs. Spencer forces himself to keep quiet, using his mouth to bite your neck in order not to scream out your name.

Your walls are clenching hard around his cock, taking him so perfectly no matter the small cubicle you’re in. He slides both his hands down your body, smacking your ass just to see it bounce right there where he’s buried inside of you.

“Good girl. – he whispers, closing his eyes and throwing his head back – Fuck, I’m close.”

You’re oversensitive, your legs are shaking and if he doesn’t keep you up and pressed to his body, you’re sure you’d fall down. Spencer wraps his arms around your waist and growls into your ear, fucking you even deeper and harder than before.

You can feel him twitch inside of you, the soft sound of your whimper sounds like music to his ear.

Finally he reaches his peak, the orgasm exploding through his body as you put your own hand over his mouth. He did it to you as well so why can’t you do it to him too?

Spencer fills you with his warmth, sloppily pushing himself inside of you as he rides the last drop of pleasure you’re squeezing from him. You’re still pressed against the wall, your head slightly turned to look at him.

You wait in silence, trying to catch your breath after what has just happened. You’re completely spent and you’re lucky Spencer had waited until this afternoon to yank you inside this bathroom, or you wouldn’t have been able to focus on your job.

Sometimes he can get very impatient and has to have you everywhere he goes.

You don’t complain because you feel exactly the same.

“That’s it, doll. – Spencer whispers, leaving a kiss on your bare shoulder – You were incredible.”

Blushing, you bite your bottom lip. You whimper at the sudden loss when Spencer pulls out of you, your juices mixed with his come dripping down your thighs so you bend down.

You’re about to pull your panties up when Spencer stops you, clicking his tongue.

“Give them to me.”

Widening your eyes, you shake your head. “Spencer, absolutely not. If I don’t wear them, someone’s going to see...”

His eyes are silently telling you to keep quiet and obey, but you’re not going to budge. Your job means a lot, you don’t want to lose it because he wants to have more fun with you. And what if someone sees the result of your little trip to the bathroom with Spencer? What if they connect the dots and realise you didn’t go in there because you weren’t feeling well?

“I’m going to keep this. – Spencer steals your panties from your hands, stuffing them in his pocket – I want you to walk around with my come dripping down your thighs, I want everybody to know that someone owns you. That I own you.”

His right hand travels up to your throat, your eyes immediately finding him.

You nod your head, licking your bottom lip. “Yes, daddy.”

He leans forward, kissing your lips. “Good.”

Rolling your eyes, you pull away from him as you push down your skirt. It covers your thighs but you still feel his come dripping down – you hope nobody sees it. The idea of everybody knowing you belong to Spencer is hot, but at the same time it’s fucking scary.

Excitingly scary.

Once you’re all fixed and set, you head out of the bathroom stall. Spencer sneaks up behind you and gets out before you can say another word. You’re tempted to get back inside and clean yourself but you don’t want to disobey Spencer’s orders, because he’ll find out – and you hate punishments.

When you step out of the bathroom, you almost bump into Morgan.

“Hey!”

You can feel your cheeks heating up. “Hey Derek.”

He looks extremely good today, wearing that white shirt tight around his biceps. You’ve wondered many times about touching them and gripping them, dreaming about scratching them as he touches you and does things to you that Spencer would probably allow.

Derek eyes you up and down, raising a brow. “You okay?”

Snapping you out of your thoughts, you give him a weak smile. “Of course, it’s really hot today. That’s...”

He hums, not really believing your answer. “Right, it’s hot. Let’s just hope it’s going to rain tonight.”

Spencer is listening to your conversation, crossing his arms and looking at you from the glass doors. He can see how you’re squirming in front of Derek, how you’re squeezing your thighs. He knows your body better than you do: you want Derek.

He doesn’t blame you, Derek is a really attractive man.

“I have a report to give you, the one you asked me this morning. I finally finished it. – you say, changing the topic before you get more nervous – Come to my office and I’ll give it to you.”

Derek watches you walk away in silence, his eyes landing on your thighs. He can see something dripping down and when Spencer touches his shoulder, he connects the dots: you went to the bathroom and immediately after, your boyfriend followed you. Both of you didn’t think anybody would notice but Derek did, laughing to himself and shaking his head from behind his desk.

He doesn’t blame Spencer for wanting you, you're an incredible woman.

Attractive, smart, fun.

Everything.

“Morgan.”

“Reid.”

Spencer walks back to his desk, sitting on his chair with his legs crossed. He wants to see what Derek is going to do now that he has seen what happened in the bathroom. Is he going to make a move on you or is he going to be the incredibly respectful best friend he’s always been to Spencer?

You run your fingers through your hair, letting out a soft sigh. You’re pretty sure your colleague has understood what happened to you and why you were so flustered as you talked to him. You just hope he’s not going to say anything to Emily – or you’ll get kicked out of the team.

Sex can’t be the reason you quit this job.

Derek waits for a few seconds before heading to your office, knocking on the door.

“Come in!”

“Hey. – says Derek, stepping inside your office with a smile – I didn’t want to rush you with the report, I could’ve waited until tomorrow or the end of the week.”

You give him a reassuring smile, squeezing your legs once again. How can he be so fucking hot? And how amazing would he be with those strong hands, holding you down and...

Derek snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Y/N?”

Blinking, you get your attention back on him. “Yes? Sorry, I zoned out.”

He releases a soft laugh, crossing his arms to his chest. “I noticed. Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to get you a snack?”

“No, don’t worry. Thank you for your concern, though. – you answer him, your eyes finding Spencer standing on the doorstep – Hey Reid.”

Spencer steps inside, closing the door behind his back.

Derek doesn’t say anything, turning around to look at your boyfriend before furrowing his brows in confusion. You don’t know why Spencer closed the door and came to your office because you don’t have anything to do or give him, but you’re not going to kick him out.

Having these two incredibly handsome men in the office is not a bad thing.

However it’s distracting and... Even though it’s time to go home, you don’t want to get too overwhelmed.

“I have a question for both of you.”

You stand up from your chair, confused. Derek is giving him the same exact look but he doesn’t pull back, interested in what Spencer has to say.

“How do you feel about group sex?”

Maybe you didn’t hear this correctly, maybe you misheard something.

How can Spencer be so casual about this?

“I mean, uh... – Derek is completely shocked, staring at Spencer in disbelief – I don’t have an answer right now.”

You shake your head, turning to look at your boyfriend. You don’t mind asking someone to join you and Spencer in the bedroom, but sometimes it’s nice to talk about a topic like this before actually asking the question and jumping into the event without thinking about it too much.

It’s Derek.

You would love to have him all over you.

However... It's weird. Maybe a bit embarrassing. Not uncomfortable but kind of.

“Y/N?”

Derek glances at you, noticing you’re staring at Spencer as if he just killed someone right in front of your face. He doesn’t blame you, he wasn’t expecting your boyfriend to ask him that kind of question either.

“Y/N, answer me.”

You snap out of your thoughts. “You know the answer.”

“Say it anyway. Derek doesn’t. – Spencer tells you, walking towards you before placing a hand over your shoulder – He will be pleased.”

You bite your bottom lip, gulping as you look back at your other colleague. Spencer’s fingers are caressing your shoulder in the same spot where he left a mark with his teeth, your skin still warm because of it.

Derek doesn’t seem uncomfortable.

“I’d like to, uh... – Spencer touches your shoulder again, giving the support you so desperately seek to talk – I would love to join us in bed.”

You and Spencer had this talk before.

When he told you that he would like to add other people to your sex life, you were ecstatic because group sex has always been one of your fantasies. Sex, oral sex, simple petting, whatever – you’re up for it and Spencer is interested as well, wanting to please you and wanting others to please you as well. At the same time you know that sometimes, couples who are inexperienced with these kinds of situations tend to get lost in their own little worlds, forgetting the third person because they’re too focused on bringing their fantasies alive.

The third person is not a toy, it’s a person; they have their own feelings, they own emotional baggage that might explode through or immediately after the experience which is why Spencer never wanted to have this kind of experience with someone they don’t know.

Derek seems the perfect addition to their fun, whether it's a one-time thing or more. Spencer wouldn’t mind the second option, if he has to be honest.

“We understand if you don’t want to, Derek. – you say, glancing at Spencer before turning to your colleague – And...”

Derek crosses his arms to his chest. “When?”

Spencer smirks at his answer, his hand sliding down to your hip. “Whenever you want. We’re free tonight, if you want.”

“Sounds like a plan. – says Derek, his eyes turning to your face – I can’t wait.”

When he leaves the room in silence, you can’t help but cover your mouth with a hand. Never in the world would you have thought you’d have the courage to say those things out loud but Spencer pushed you – and now you need to prepare for tonight.

“Oh my fuck.”

Spencer chuckles, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Emphasis on fuck.”

You’re sitting on your couch, your eyes low on the floor.

Derek and Spencer have been having a conversation ever since they stepped inside of your apartment, as if your boyfriend hadn't asked him to basically have a threesome with you and him a few hours before.

You’re a nervous wreck and you don’t know how they’re so calm.

It’s normal to be nervous about trying something new. Even though you trust Derek and you love him as a friend, you don’t know what to expect from this experience because you’ve never done it before.

Spencer hasn’t either, but Derek has. Apparently it was common for him in College to try new things and this happened to be one of them, one of his personal favourites.

“Y/N?”

You cross your legs, turning to look at Spencer. “Hm?”

“Come here, doll. - your boyfriend says, tapping his thighs - You seem nervous.”

You struggle to get up from the couch, your nerves getting the best of you. You want to try this, you want to do this and see how it feels for both you and Spencer - but at the same time you’re terrified of Derek’s judgment over you.

You know he would never belittle you or make fun of you for enjoying something in bed, he’s one the most open-minded people you’ve ever met. There’s a difference between talking about sex and having it, though - what if at the end of this experience your friendship will end?

That’s not something you want to happen.

“I’m very nervous. - you say, sitting on Spencer’s thighs with an arm looped around his neck - It’s not you, Derek. I just don’t want tonight to ruin our friendship.”

When you and Spencer started dating two years ago, you were much more closed up than right now. He taught you how to express your feelings, how to actually talk and say how you feel because communication is the only way you can salvage a relationship. Keeping everything inside is not good because it breaks you from the inside, destroying your relationship brick by brick no matter what the other person does.

No matter how scared or nervous you are, you have to tell the truth.

Derek scoots closer on the bed, his hands still on his thighs. He doesn’t want to touch you unless he has your permission - he might be incredibly attracted to you but he’s a decent human being and knows that if he even tries to touch you, you’ll bite his hand off.

“We’ll make sure to keep you pleased and comfortable, Y/N. - Derek says, his voice soothing your nerves and making your nose twitch - Me and Spencer are going to have so much fun.”

You glance at your boyfriend, your hand playing with the curls right behind his neck. “I know.”

Spencer slides his right hand between your legs, a soft moan leaving your lips at the same time Derek puts his left one on your thigh. You don’t know what to focus on first, so many things are happening at once: Spencer is pushing his fingers towards your panties, Derek is kissing down your shoulder and you find yourself closing your eyes and moaning their names.

Having sex with Spencer is one thing, but having sex with Spencer and Derek is on a whole other level.

It’s totally different from what you’re used to, but you can’t wait to try everything they want.

Being nervous is normal, but overcoming your nerves is going to allow you to enjoy everything and you don’t want to miss a single detail about tonight. You want to have fun, you want to please them, you want to see them crumble underneath your fingertips, you want them to not be able to think about anyone else but you for the next few days.

Or weeks, or months, or years.

You know it’s already going to happen with Spencer, but you want it to happen with Derek as well.

He needs to remember you everywhere he goes, even when he's in bed with someone else.

“Why don’t you strip down for us, doll?”

Spencer brushes the tip of his fingers up and down your slit covered by your panties, your head nodding as you try to wiggle out of his grip. Derek sits back down on the couch with a hand behind his neck, his eyes staring at you hungrily.

“Show Derek how beautiful you are, doll.”

“He already knows.” you say with a wink

Derek lets out a laugh, turning to Spencer. “She’s not wrong.”

You shrug off all your nerves as you start to unbutton your blouse. You want to give them a show but at the same time you want to be quick, needing to feel their hands all over you again - and for the whole night. Spencer licks his bottom lip, spreading his legs just enough to put a hand between them and cup his bulge.

He loves watching you and knowing that you’re stripping off not just for him, makes it incredibly hotter.

You lift your blouse and throw it on the floor, pushing your skirt down.

You’re still not wearing your panties because they’re inside Spencer’s pocket.

Derek licks his bottom lip and moves a hand forward, trying to touch you. You move closer to him before glancing at Spencer, him giving you a quick nod - even though this experience is all about sharing and giving each other pleasure, you want to be sure Spencer is okay.

“You’re gorgeous, Y/N. - Derek says, looking up at you - But you’d look better without this.”

His hands run up your back and unclasp your bra, sliding it off your shoulders.

Now you’re standing completely naked in front of two men all dressed up.

You thought you’d feel nervous but you don’t, you’re actually incredibly turned on. Their hungry eyes are staring you down, especially Spencer’s - he seems to be having the time of his life even though he hasn’t touched you yet and he’s still watching you with his colleague.

Derek presses a kiss on your belly as his hands cup your breasts, squeezing them lightly. “I’ve always dreamed of doing this to you. I knew you’d feel like this.”

You close your eyes and throw your head back, your nipples hardening against the palm of his hands. “Do it for as long as you want, sir.”

Spencer smirks, standing up from the couch and getting behind you. Biting your bottom lip, you try your best to focus on Derek’s tongue now swirling around your right nipple. A soft whimper comes out of your mouth as you struggle to stay still, Derek’s other hand gently spreading your legs.

“Do you like his touch on you, doll?”

You nod your head, Spencer’s hot breath lingering on your neck. “Yes, daddy.”

Derek is not surprised by the nickname you have Spencer as he looks up at you, admiring the way you’re arching your back and wiggling closer to him. His tongue slides around your nipple before he sucks on it, using both his hands to caress your inner thighs.

Spencer gives Derek a quick look and they both smirk. You don’t even notice their exchange of looks, too focused on the pleasure that both of them are bringing you. Spencer pushes his hips against your ass, his boner gently pressing against you.  His hands skimming over your hips before smacking your ass and at the same time, Morgan slides his left hand between your legs.

You whimper at the sudden touch, bending over when Morgan’s thumb brushes over your clit.

“Fuck, sir… I…”

Spencer slaps your ass once again, his chest on your back. “Are you that needy, doll?”

You quickly nod your head. There’s no point in lying to Spencer, especially if you know this could lead to him punishing you and making things worse - you don’t want punishments tonight, you just want all the pleasure they can give you.

“Keep your legs open for me, princess. - Derek says, snapping you out of your thoughts - I want to see all of you.”

Spencer forces your legs open as he keeps you still, his mouth attacking your neck and his teeth sinking into your skin. You let out a loud moan, gripping his arm when Derek slips two fingers inside of you - you immediately clench around him, your wetness making it easier for him to start fucking you.

He’s quick, pushing in and out of you.

“Let us hear you doll, we want to know how good we’re making you feel. - Spencer whispers in your ear, his right hand travelling up to your face - My good girl, you look incredible right now.”

You whine at his words, your hips grinding against Derek’s fingers. “Please, sir, I…”

You want to beg Derek to touch you more, you want him to push another finger in, you want his mouth, you want everything he can give you but right now you can’t talk. You can’t manage to use your words to form a coherent sentence because you’re overwhelmed - and they’ve just gotten started.

How is this possible?

Spencer takes a step back and you fall against him, your mouth slightly open as a chorus of little moans and pleads comes out of it. Derek gets off the couch, immediately getting on your knees.

You can’t even look down at him because soon you feel his mouth attaching to your clit, your hands flying behind his head to push him closer to you. You were not expecting this and the sounds coming out of your mouth are proof of it, your body almost collapsing.

“Fuck! Fuck, Derek.”

Spencer nudges his nose against your neck. “Is he making you feel good, doll? Do you have having his fingers and his tongue fucking you?”

You nod your head, incapable of moving. You grind against Derek’s fingers and moan when his lips suck on your clit, the pleasure spreading rapidly within you - you want to come, you know you’re close but you’re scared of saying anything.

“C-Close…”

Spencer smacks your ass, watching it bounce before pushing his trousers down. “Oh, you’re close? Do you want us to make you come, doll? Do you want me to give you permission to come?”

You struggle to nod your head, gasping when Derek pushes a third finger inside of you. Your arousal is coating his hand and half of his face, his lips now pressing kisses on your inner thigh.

He looks up at you, smirking at the sight. “I think she has earned it, Spencer. Don’t you agree?”

Your boyfriend nods, kicking his trousers away from the carpet. “I do. Make her come, Derek. Come on.”

Morgan doesn’t need to be told twice, his fingers picking up the pace. You gasp at the sudden sensation and you push his head between your legs, his mouth attacking you and devouring you. You were expecting him to be incredible with his mouth, but fuck, not like this.

You moan his name, throwing your head back as Spencer lets his cock spring free. You can feel it touching your ass, pre-cum leaking down and smearing all over your skin.

You want to focus on both: Spencer’s cock and Derek’s tongue and fingers, but then the second gets the best of you.

And soon you’re coming, a loud whine coming out of your mouth.

You don’t even realise Spencer has a hand wrapped around your neck until you feel his fingers digging into your skin, his mouth biting and licking the soft skin of your throat. Derek hasn’t stopped his ministrations on you, the pleasure getting almost painful.

You try to shuffle away from him but you don’t really want to do that, you want more.

One orgasm is gone, but you hope there will be more coming.

“That’s it, doll, you did so good for us. - Spencer whispers in your ear - Doesn’t she taste amazingly, Derek?”

Derek stands up from the floor, licking his bottom lip. “She does. Do you want to taste it yourself, Y/N? Do you want to know how sweet you taste?”

You can’t even nod before Derek leans forward and connects his lips with yours, his tongue sliding inside of your mouth. Spencer grinds his hips against you, watching you as you lazily make out with his colleague right in front of him.

The sight is just so fucking exciting.

You can taste your arousal on Morgan’s lips, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck to deepen the kiss. You can’t get enough of him but you want your boyfriend as well, so you slowly pull away from the kiss.

When you turn around, Derek lifts his shirt off his chest and throws it on the floor. You run your hands all over Spencer’s torso, leaning forward to leave kisses all over his tender skin until you’re down on your knees for him.

It doesn’t take long for you to suck his cock into your mouth, bobbing his head up and down. Spencer hasn’t asked you to do anything but you know his expression, you know his eyes and you can recognize his body language.

He needs this.

“Show Morgan how good you are at sucking my cock, doll. - Spencer mumbles, running his fingers through your hair - Let us see those pretty eyes.”

When you open your eyes, you notice both of them are staring you down. Morgan is beside Spencer and they’re both completely naked now - they look so fucking good, you wish you could look at them for hours and months and years.

You feel so fucking lucky right now.

Lazily blinking, you slide your tongue all over Spencer’s length. He grips your hair and tugs on them, forcing you to take all of his cock inside your mouth - you gag around it but you keep your eyes on his face, not wanting him to miss a single second.

In the corner of your eyes you see Morgan slowly stroking his cock, long but thicker than Spencer’s. You wonder if you’re going to feel both of them inside of you, you wonder if Spencer is going to allow you to ride Morgan - he probably will.

“Suck him off as well, doll. He deserves to know how your mouth feels.”

You pull away from Spencer’s length, your saliva sliding down your chin. Spencer doesn’t need to tell you twice as you turn your head to Derek, looking up at him and gripping the base of his cock in your hand. You stroke it just a little bit, precum leaking all over it.

“Go ahead, princess. Let me see how good you suck my cock. - Derek says, putting a hand behind your hair and grabbing a handful of it - “You already look amazing on your knees, you’re going to look much better with my cock down your throat.”

You wink at him because you know it’s true, so you lean forward and you open your mouth. Derek pushes himself inside of it and lets out a huge sigh, admiring the way your lips are tightly wrapped around his length. He feels your tongue running up and down his shaft, your cheeks hollowing and making everything even better.

Spencer is touching himself as well, admiring the way you move up and down his cock.

You pull away for a split second, licking the head of his cock. “Am I being good, daddy?”

Your boyfriend nods, licking his bottom lip. “You are indeed, doll. You’re always good, so eager to please me and today, to please him.”

Derek is too focused on the pleasure caused by your mouth, humming in pleasure and his head falling back. His fingers grip your hair and force his cock down your throat, making you gag at the gesture - you don’t pull away.

That was fucking hot.

Using your mouth on Derek, you glance at your boyfriend as you realise something. He deserves a little touching so you move your right hand to his cock; you wrap your fingers around the base of it and you start to stroke it, moaning around Derek’s length.

It’s difficult to focus on two things at once, especially if you have tears in your eyes and you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs.

You love giving blowjobs and you love pleasuring your boyfriend even more.

The pleasure is ready to explode through you but you’re not surprised.

This can easily push you to have your second orgasm.

“Princess, can I fuck your mouth? Please. - Derek whispers, his voice sounding much needier than before - I have to.”

You don’t even look at Spencer, nodding your head. “Yes, do it sir. Please, use my mouth.”

Putting your left hand behind your back to focus on his pleasure without stopping to touch your boyfriend’s cock, you keep your eyes on Derek’s face. He starts rocking his hips back and forth, his cock sliding down your tongue and hitting the back of your throat over and over again.

Saliva is dripping down your chin, tears streaming down your cheeks.

This is so fucking good.

Spencer pushes your hand away, stroking his cock by himself. He wants to admire the show you’re putting on for him and for Derek, he wants him to come down your throat and watch you swallow every fucking drop.

“F-fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking good.”

You can feel Derek twitching in your mouth so you lazily blink, staring at him. You allow him to take a hold of your head, snapping his hips back and forth as he fucks your mouth over and over. You don’t want him to stop, you need to feel him come down your throat.

You want him so fucking bad, it’s overwhelming.

Derek grunts as he keeps moving inside of your mouth, his thrusts slowing and faltering until you feel the first drops of come filling your mouth. A second later he empties himself inside of your mouth, forcing you to almost choke on his come - you wouldn’t change a thing, though.

“That’s my good girl. - Spencer announces, smiling proudly - Swallow it, doll.”

You do, the salty taste expanding in your mouth.

“Such a cumslut, aren’t you?” says Morgan

You blush – of course you are, has he seen Spencer Reid?

You love this a little too much.

Spencer is the one pulling you up to your feet, wrapping his arms around you before dipping down and kissing your mouth.

It’s the first kiss he gives you since this whole experience started and it feels so fucking incredible, his lips mixing with yours and your tongue melting against his. His hands are brushing over the tender skin of your hips, before they slide down to your thighs as he squeezes them.

He hasn’t had his orgasm yet.

And you know exactly how to give it to him.

“That was fucking hot, princess. – Derek says, gently pulling you towards him as Spencer sits on the couch with his legs spread open – I’ll definitely need you to do this more.”

Giggling, you nod your head. “Gladly, sir, if my daddy allows it.”

Spencer taps his thighs. “I will but now I want to fuck your pretty pussy, doll. I’ve missed it.”

“Are you going to come inside of her just like you did this afternoon? – Derek asks, his smirk spreading at your shocked expression – I saw his come dripping down your thighs, princess. It was fucking hot, I hope to watch mine doing that tonight.”

Your boyfriend chuckles, tapping his thighs. “You will, Derek, don’t worry. She’ll be good for you and she’ll take your come inside of her pretty pussy. Won’t you, doll?”

You whine but don’t complain, immediately sitting over Spencer’s thighs. Of course you want Morgan to come inside of you, of course you want to ride his beautiful cock but right now all you care about is fucking Spencer – and feeling his come inside of you, warming you and filling you up so fucking nicely.

You need it, your whole body aches for it.

Spencer grabs the base of his cock and brushes it against your wet folds before letting it sink inside of you. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust – Derek’s fingers did all the work before – because he starts bucking his hips up, fucking you just like you need it.

Derek is staring at you, watching your mouth opening and letting out the softest of sounds. Your back is arching, your hands are scratching your boyfriend’s chest and you don’t even know how to steady yourself.

That’s when he settles behind you, on his knees.

His mouth attacks your neck exactly where Spencer’s was before, his right hand sliding down your chest to settle right above your pussy.

Derek can feel Spencer’s cock pushing in and out of you, but his attention is all on your clit. He starts massaging it, making you whimper his name in pleasure – you start bouncing on Spencer’s cock, allowing yourself to drown in the pleasure.

Your mind is blank.

“Oh fuck, daddy, please...”

Spencer grips your breasts, squeezing them harshly. “Please what, doll? Tell me what you’re begging me for.”

You whine, struggling to open your mouth again. “Fuck me harder, please. Daddy, I need it so fucking bad.”

“Such dirty words coming out of such a pretty mouth. – Derek intervenes, slapping your clit with his hand – You look so fucking hot on his cock, though. You’re taking it so well.”

You whimper at the gesture, rolling your hips. “It’s my day job, you know.”

Spencer chuckles at your response, nodding his head. “It surely is.”

Derek teases your clit again, pressing down on it with his thumb while Spencer picks up the pace of his thrusts. You can feel yourself ready to jump over the edge of the pleasure, but you don’t know if you can come.

Spencer gives you that permission by grabbing you by the face and pulling you down, kissing you harshly. You moan over his lips, feeling Morgan’s finger massage your clit even quicker than before.

Spencer’s cock pushing in and out of you, and Morgan’s finger teasing you so well, are enough.

And soon you’re coming again, your arousal drenching Spencer’s cock and Morgan’s finger. You see stars as you almost fall back against your colleague’s chest, whimpering both their names and moving your hips.

Your whole body is shaking, you don’t even know what you’re saying. You’re begging them, you’re calling out their names – nothing that’s coming out of your mouth makes sense but they don’t seem to care.

“Fuck, I’m going to fill you up so fucking good. – Spencer mumbles, pinching both your nipples – Take it all, you fucking whore.”

When Spencer's thrusts inside of you start to falter, Morgan picks up the pace and uses his thumb to massage your clit. His mouth is leaving kisses up and down your back, while his free hand is smacking your ass – now there are two sets of handprints on your skin.

You can’t wait to take pictures of their signs all over your body, you’re dying to show them all to your boyfriend and giggle with him about this incredible experience.

Spencer’s mouth is still covering yours as his seed finally spills deep within you, warming you from the inside and allowing you to ride out your orgasm until you’re panting and withering on top of him.

“You’re definitely cumslut. – Derek adds with a chuckle, watching you collapse on top of your boyfriend – You did so good for us, princess. You’re incredible.”

Spencer wraps both his arms around your waist. “Did you hear what he said, doll? You should be proud of yourself, you did really well.”

You mumble something, too busy coming down from this orgasm. You know you did good, you know you were fucking incredible and you made both of them come at least once but you want more.

On the other hand, you’re totally spent.

You can barely lift your head to look at one of them in the eyes.

Spencer’s cock twitches when you roll your hips, his come dripping down your body. He slowly pulls out of you and presses a kiss on your forehead, watching Derek as he runs his fingers between your legs to collect Spencer’s come.

And then he pushes his fingers deep inside of you, fucking your boyfriend’s come back inside of you.

You don’t even whimper, used to the gesture. Spencer always does it every single time he can come inside of you, he finds it extremely fascinating and hot to know that he’s marking you again and again.

“Thank you.” you manage to say

Derek leaves a kiss on your shoulder before sitting on the couch beside you, admiring your body curling up on Spencer’s chest. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and you’re clinging onto him, not wanting to leave him.

Your body feels like it’s on fire.

You’re so fucking tired, you can barely feel your legs.

“She’s exhausted. – you can hear Spencer whispering – It was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was. We should do this more often. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

As they laugh, you slip into a state of slumber.

Tonight was fun.

You definitely want to do this again.

Maybe next time you’ll be able to feel Morgan inside of you.

You can’t wait.