#Word Count = 1312

[daddyfordaeddy]

banner by @shadowkoo

Pairing: good boy! nerd! Hongjoong x bad girl! f! yn (mentioned yn x librarian! yunho)

Word Count: 1312

Warnings: cursing, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Fluff, smut, college au, E for explicit

Summary: You want to have some fun with Hongjoong in the (almost) empty library

Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), praise, slight breast play, creampie, oral (f receiving), felching, begging, pet names (good boy for joong), service top joong power bottom yn, mentions of threesome, public sex (in an empty library)

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This was written for @cultofdionysusnet's See You On the Flip Side summer event with the prompt bad girl/good guy <3 hope u guys enjoy lol

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“Boo.”

You giggle softly to yourself at the sight of Hongjoong jumping at your harsh whisper in his ear. “Ah– YN, don’t scare me like that,” he tries to scold, but his voice catches in his throat when you come around his armchair and lean in close to his face. “We’re in a library.”

You chuckle, putting your lollipop back in your mouth. “Your observation skills are always on point, Joongie. Come on, it’s a Sunday and midterms are over. No one’s in here but you, and the assistant librarian’s playing sudoku in the lunch room.”

Hongjoong frowns. “How’d you know? You don’t have the lunch room code.”

“Sucked him off for some alone time with you,” you shrug, unbothered by your admission. You can see a hint of jealousy flash in Hongjoong’s eyes and a pout form on his lips.

“How do you even do that? You dropped out of this college before Mr Jeong even started working here.” A hint of whining leaks through Hongjoong’s voice and you chuckle, reaching up to mess up his peach-dyed locks. Hongjoong’s pout deepens but he makes no move to distance himself from your touch.

You bend down more, whispering conspiratorially, “And he’s only six years my senior, Joongah. What, is he gonna say ‘no’ to a hot girl letting him fuck her mouth? Yunho’s weird, but not crazy.” Hongjoong’s mouth opens and closes like a fish’s, and you pull your lollipop out of your mouth and put it in his. “Don’t be jealous, Joongah. It’s not a good look on you. Plus, I’m doing this for you. You like the idea of being caught, don’t you?”

Hongjoong sputters around the lollipop. “No!” he tries to deny, but the red colouring his cheeks and ears is a dead giveaway.

You shake your head, letting your hair fall into your eyes as you give Hongjoong a crooked smile. “Lying doesn’t work, Joongah. You’re an open book. You should count yourself lucky, I’m in a good mood today. Do you want to go in a study room?”

The long hesitation from Hongjoong is the answer you need. “Told you, lying’s no use,” you laugh, swinging your leg around to plop yourself into his lap. “Now, be a good boy and be quiet, unless you want Yunho to join us. Why don’t you put that lollipop to good use?”

As your hand trails down his firm chest, you can see Hongjoong swallow hard as his eyes flick down to your chest, your button-down showing more cleavage than hiding it. “YN–” his voice catches in his throat as you palm at his slowly-hardening cock through his pristine white slacks.

“Just sit still and be good, Joongah,” you laugh, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them, along with his boxers, to his thighs. “If you’re quiet, I’ll give you a reward.”

Without waiting for a response, you flip up your skirt, shove your panties aside, and lower yourself onto his cock. You sigh at the feeling of it slowly filling you up, wriggling your hips a little to adjust it to press against your sweet spot almost perfectly. Hongjoong is gritting his teeth so hard the lollipop stick is bending, and you lean in to press a kiss on his slightly parted lips, letting your mouth trail down to attach to his neck as you start slowly grinding in his lap.

Hongjoong’s hands hover just over your waist, almost as if he’s afraid to touch you, but you know he’s just waiting for you to tell him what to do. He’s your good boy after all. You bring his hands to rest on your hips, where his grip immediately tightens on your flesh.

A nip to his neck is the only warning you give him before you start bouncing on his lap, moaning right into his ear as you ride him fast. Hongjoong’s biting his lip so harshly, but quiet whimpers and whines still slip out, his nails digging into your skin, but the pain only serves to pleasure you more.

“Shit–” you gasp, your thighs burning with exertion but warmth pooling n your core as you work towards your orgasm. The length of his cock spears into you so perfectly every time, the angle just enough for the tip to press against the perfect spot almost every time.

“God, look at you, sitting so still for me,” you hum teasingly. “I really do make you pussy drunk, don’t I? No one else can do it like me, is that right, Joongah? Speak.”

“No one!” he cries out, the words falling from his lips eagerly. “Fuck, YN, please. Let me come.”

You bark out a short laugh, although it’s interrupted by a sharp gasp and a long moan when his mouth attaches to your tit through your cropped shirt. Normally you’d punish him for touching without permission, but you’re so close to the edge already that you can’t bring yourself to care.

“You can come but–” You aren’t even able to finish your sentence before Hongjoong groans, coming deep into your pussy, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your chest. You scoff affectionately, running your fingers through his soft locks before gripping them and tugging his face upwards. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, Joongah, considering you keep disobeying me.”

Hongjoong has the decency to look ashamed as you lift off his dick, come dripping out of your cunt and down your thighs onto his pants. You pluck the lollipop out of his mouth. “On your knees, Joongah,” you command, before sticking the lollipop back in your mouth.

The peach-haired boy drops to his knees faster than he came as you take a seat on the desk sitting in front of the sofa. It’s almost embarrassing seeing him crawl towards your soaked pussy, but in the moment all it does is set a fire in your belly. “Go on, clean me up, Joongah.”

No sooner do the words leave your mouth before Hongjoong attaches his mouth to your cunt, not wasting any time in pushing his tongue into your hole. His hands grip your thighs, leaving indents in the skin from his pretty painted nails, and the only sounds echoing through the library at the slick sounds of him eating you like there’s no tomorrow.

As he pushes his face even further into your pussy, his nose presses against your swollen and throbbing clit and your hands fly down to grip at his hair as your hips buck against his face. Waves of pleasure roll over you as you reach the peak of your burning orgasm. “Shit–” you moan so loudly that you swear Yunho probably would’ve heard it if he wasn’t so stuck in his sudoku.

Even through you coming, Hongjoong is still lapping up both your and his release like the good boy you trained him to be, his lower face glistening from the sun filtering through the window, and after you catch your breath, you remove your lollipop and grab his chin to pull him in for a messy kiss. You can taste your release as well as his, and you smile at it, licking into his mouth before finally pulling away, adding spit to the mix of slick covering his red and swollen lips.

With a sigh, you stand, stretching and smoothing down your skirt. As you brush the hair strands from your face, you lean down to press another, quicker, kiss to Hongjoong’s lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch, Joongah. Don’t be late and take care of yourself,” you hum sweetly, offering him the lollipop one last time.

As you sashay out of the library, you see Yunho leaving the staff room and blow him a kiss, skipping out the door to flash him with your now-soaked underwear, leaving him standing there with a red face and phone in his hand.

[lem0nshark-writes]

"Interesting Ideas"

Anakin Skywalker x Male Reader

Type: smut

Word count: 1312

Warnings: armpit kink, armpit kissing and licking, inappropriate use of the force, reader can be read both as a top or a bottom same as Anakin, some fluff, reader and Anaking being a lil bit of chaotic gremlins at the beginning

Request: by the lovely @/Squibs__ on wattpad!💕💕

A/N: Heyy guys sorry it took so long to post again this one took a bit longer to edit 😅😅 Alsooo no offense but I won't be doing this kink again as I don't have it and therefore can't really do it justice, but the requester asked very nicely so I decided to give it a shot! I hope you guys enjoy and see ya soon hopefully! 💕💕

You and Anakin had just finished a very difficult and intense training, but then again when was it not so when the two of you were in question.

Master Obi-Wan had had you work on your lightsaber fighting and the two of you normally made it into a competition, just like always, but this time, Obi-Wan was smart enough not to give you two actual lightsabers, rather two long sticks to fight with. Last time being a big lession as the two of you nearly decapitated each other a couple of times with your competitive fighting, seeing who can do the most flips and turns and who had the best lightsaber twirling techniques. It was a whole mess.

As you two raced across the hallways, you sprinting just a couple of feet in front of Anakin your flowing robes just beyond his reach, laughing histerically as you yet again beat him in the race, he was trying to catch up with you and catch you chasing after you with full speed, laughing as well.

"Not again-" he chuckled, desparately trying to speed up after you.

When the door to his room came in sight you made sure you sped up more, leaving him in your dust as you made a sharp turn inside. Anakin at his speed nearly couldn't stop himself but grabbing at the doorframe he managed just in time swinging himself and bolting inside as well.

"Ha ha! Gotcha again!!" you grinned widely as you celebrated your little victory with a little funny dance, rubbing it into his face.

He grinned at you as he tried to catch his breath, accepting his defeat. He was quite a good swordsman and unbeatable at flying a ship no matter the size but when it came to making a quick escape and outrunning him you beat him every time. Every single time.

Once he finally caught his breath Anakin stood up, smirking under his grin as he pulled you by your forearms softly and pinned you against the wall, "c'mmere-" he whispered under his breath, his lips making a quick way to find yours in a soft and loving kiss as his body ever so softly pressed against yours.

You smiled at him, kissing back straight away, your arms wrapping around his neck into a warm embrace. Moments like these were your favourite, where the two of you could just enjoy each other's presence, not needing to hide from prying eyes and stares.

Anakin smiled when he pulled away, his blue eyes staring at yours with such fondness to them it made your heart flutter. You pressed your foreheads together as you stayed like that in comfortable silence for a little while, arms intertwined around each other and not letting go.

"Shower?" he asked softly after a bit, smiling up at you.

"Ugh yes!" you chuckled, just now noticing the stickiness of your skin and the way your robes uncomfortably stuck to your body at some parts from the sweat.

He chuckled at your enthusiasm and took your hand in his, pulling you to the bathroom.

Once there the two of you quickly undressed and slipped into the shower, relaxing once the hot steamy water started trickling down at your bare bodies from the mounted shower head above.

He pulled you close, smiling softly at you as he held you in his arms, hands running the shower gel all across your body, as yours did to him.

You shampooed his head, foamy fingers running through the soft golden light-brown locks sitting atop his head, and later on he returned the favour, kissing you softly on the lips as he did. The two of you enjoying this little moment before running the water once again.

Once the two of you decided to leave the comfort of a good shower you dried yourselves, put on some underwear, and made your way to the bed, plopping onto it with you on top of your boyfriend as he laid down on his back.

A content sigh of relief left his mouth as his fingers ran through your hair slowly, eyes wandering over your form gracefully sprawled across his body.

You rested your head atop his chest, finger tracing across the soft warm skin of it as your mind wandered far away, bit further a certain side than you hoped it would, your thoughts so loud Anakin seeming to have caught on them, dick twitching and slowly hardening in his underwear at the imagery your thoughts were providing for him.

You cheeks heated up as you noticed, your dick slowly growing hard as well at the whole situation and the thoughts you still had wandering your mind and refusing to leave you alone. The two of you exchanged looks, agreeing on the matter rather quickly as his lips found yours into a heated sloppy kiss and your hand swiftly slipped into his underwear, wrapping around him and slowly starting to work his length.

Anakin moaned against your mouth as the two of you kissed, tongues intertwined, hand at your backside slowly rubbing up and down and into a squeeze, sneaking past your boxers quickly enough to grasp at the supple skin bare.

You grunted softly into the kiss as you started to pump your hand up and down faster, though still keeping it slow enough to tease him good as your thumb circled and pressed around his tip.

Moving your lips from his mouth to his cheek, then his jaw, neck, leaving a couple of kisses, you trailed it down over his collarbone, his chest and to his arm, placing kisses and licks as you went. You made your way to his underarms, lifting his hands up and feeling his toned muscular arms before pinning his hands above his head, using your force to keep him from slipping out of your grasp as your kisses made their way to his armpit.

You seem to have struck a spot as as soon as you left a kiss upon it Anakin moaned harder and bucked his hips into your hand. You smirked a little, never knowing this little secret of his before but loving it as it gave you even more advantage to tease and please your lover.

You left another kiss and another moan escaped his lips, then another and another. And soon enough Anakin was a moaning mess underneath you as you dragged your tongue across the soft skin of it, your hand pumping him at a faster pace, grip tightening on his dick a little bit, his hand now working you too, desparate to return the favour.

You tried to stifle your moans as you left another lick across his armpit before pulling the soft skin in your mouth slightly into a suck. That sent him over the moon and in a matter of seconds he was cumming all over your hand and his stomach, soft but loud moans coming out of his mouth intermittently as his chest heaved and back arched in pleasure. Seeing your lover in such delight and his hand working you, although sloppily as he still rode his high, it was enough to send you over the edge as well.

Both of you panted against each other as you tried to calm your breaths, you plopping back onto his chest and his arms wrapping around you into a warm embrace.

Anakin blushed a little on the way you got him cumming so good but he regretted nothing and he kissed your head softly. You wanted to tease him on his newfound kink but the previous activity and the training before that came crashing down at you and all you could do is snuggle into your lover comfortably. You smiled up at him, wrapping your arms around his torso, and closing your eyes contently.

"Ugh we're gonna need another shower.."

"Yup!.."

[ironmandeficiency]

durin line + finding out you have nipple piercings

pairing: durin line (fíli, thorin, kíli)/ fem!reader

word count: 1312

summary: how the sons of durin react to discovering you have nipple piercings

a/n: this just happened to pop into my head and i figured “why not?” it’s my first time writing anything lotr, we’ll see how it goes (18+ for obvs reasons). here’s the dwarven translator i used

warnings: implied smut, one ref to pregnancy, tons of secondhand embarrassment

fíli:

dude was caught off guard in the best way possible

it was only hours after your braiding ceremony, both of your marriage beads glistening in the fireplace light in your shared bedroom

you hadn’t been intimate with each other since beginning your betrothal, and it was not for a lack of trying (dwalin was a painfully obstinate chaperone that had far too many eyes around the kingdom)

doomed to abide by tradition, the most improper act committed was a simple swat or pinch to your ass, or your fingers playfully twirling at the braids in his hair or mustache

removing your clothes in front of fee for the first time before preparing for bed, your love notices two metallic glints on your chest and his jaw falls to the floor

the ends of each silver rod is adorned with polished citrine crystals that were eerily similar to the vibrancy of his hair

you had made no previous mention to him about the metal before then, and he had never noticed their presence throughout the trek to erebor

(the company allowed you at least the semblance of privacy on the few occasions there was time to bathe, and he has manners despite what kíli says to the contrary)

“my tumat, by mahal you never cease to amaze me,” fíli’s constant state of awe over you increased tenfold as he admired how the jewelry complimented your breasts

his callused hands roamed your body, sending goosebumps across your skin with every feather light touch

tradition is very clear about how married couples should spend their wedding night, and who would fíli be to ignore tradition?

tumat — gem

thorin:

training with your beloved was never a simple task. he was never one to hold back a few punches, making sure you learned the easy way that no other enemies would be lenient with you

easy way my ass, you groaned as a well-placed kick behind your knee brought you to the ground

it was refreshing to not be treated like a dainty flower when you were plenty capable, but damn was it a painful process

“come on, my ozbim kovotos,” thorin offers you a hand up with a small smile, “we’ve only just begun!”

you roll your eyes as you get back into a sparring position across from your ridiculous lover

“flattery won’t get you anywhere, amralime!” you playfully yell at him

“it gets you into my bed, doesn’t it?” his teasing tone makes you want to punch the smirk from his handsome face

the coordinated dance you know with the same familiarity as your thorin’s eyes keeps you on your toes, anticipation preparing you for any move he could throw your way

well, any move except for the one he ended up using against you, as luck would have it

thorin knocked you off balance with a well-aimed elbow to the chest, almost knocking the breath from your lungs (he definitely could have if he wanted) as a muscular leg hooked around yours and brought you to the ground

coming back to your senses, you stared at the sky above you and groaned in pain. the hand not covering your face against the sunlight clutched at the poor breast that suffered the brunt of thorin’s strength

to his credit, his response time was almost immediate when he saw you holding your poor breast

he brought you to your feet and fretted over you the way he’s wont to do, asking if your chest was extra sensitive for some reason unbeknownst to him

“it was meant to be a surprise, you dolt!” your complaint had him reeling. surely you weren’t… he hopes to mahal that he didn’t just clobber his one while carrying his child, all the color draining from his face

you were quick to track his thoughts as he started to fret, reassuring him hastily that you weren’t pregnant at all, just nursing some new jewelry that you wanted to show him in your shared chambers later in the evening

his relief was palpable as he heaved a great sigh of relief. your fool of a husband, thinking you’re with child!

that would be the golden ticket to keep you away from his grueling training sessions, not a surprise you spring on him in the middle of one!

you make this known to him and his warm laugh rumbles through your chest. a teasing glint in his eye makes itself known before you’re suddenly thrown over your king’s shoulder, a surprise laugh escaping you

“if you want an excuse to skip our training sessions, you need but ask, ghivashel.”

ozbim kovotos — fierce beloved

ghivashel — treasure of all treasures

kíli:

any time it’s brought up, your dear prince flushes deeper than the color of gloin’s hair and the laughter of the company rings like bells around the fire

after the initial shock of the incident, it became a common source of amusement when spirits were low. each retelling gave more bizarre details and unbelievable quotes that most definitely didn’t happen

after finding shelter within beorn’s home, you relished the idea of getting to rinse off the grime of your adventure in clean water

the shifter’s chivalry (and dislike of dwarves, probably) gave you the first chance to bathe out of the party of 15

time was an illusion as you scrubbed away the dirt and let yourself unwind in the water, the faint breeze rustling the wildflowers in the nearby meadow

eventually, some of the dwarves began to comment about the time you were taking, joking about you becoming a fish (dwalin) or somehow drowning and leaving the others to suffer without a soak (fíli)

this chatter alarmed kee far more than he knew it should, the young prince fighting the urge to check up on you

logic reminded him that you were all safe within beorn’s realm, but some of the others joined in the silly commentary and kíli had no choice to make sure you didn’t actually become a fish

making as inconspicuous an exit as he could, he beelined for the small pond where you were, hoping against hope that you were simply enjoying yourself and

for all the things he was prepared to see (you becoming a human-fish hybrid or being eaten by flesh-eating underwater plants, to name a couple), he was definitely not prepared for what he actually saw

you slowly emerged from the water, tiny droplets kissing your skin softly. the sunlight reflected off each bead with the elegance of the finest jewels on this side of erebor

then his eyes caught the actual jewels you carried on your chest, and kíli would have fallen to his knees in praise of your beauty had you not spotted him first

“is there no such thing as privacy here?! let me bathe in peace, you heathen!”

kee covered his eyes with one palm and turned his back to you for good measure, mortified at his current predicament

“everyone was talking about you getting eaten or drowning, and it worried me! i didn’t mean to be improper!” his voice was so sincere that you couldn’t find it in you to be angry for very long

“i’m alive and well, kíli! now if you’ll wait a moment for me to be dressed, i think a princely escort back to the barn would be plenty to protect me!”

the playful lilt in your voice could be heard from the several yards of distance between you and he exhaled in relief that you weren’t truly offended

he almost turned around again on impulse but caught himself just in time, the blood in his veins hotter than the forges with embarrassment

chuckling to yourself as you put on semi-clean clothes, you looped an arm around kíli’s and let him guide you back to camp, the story of kee seeing you naked becoming an immediate hit

[wanderersbell]

hi can i please ask for some scara angst to fluff? maybe like an arguement? anything is fine :) imgoing insane your writing is so good 💜💜💜💜

when you have an argument

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1312

a/n: hi thank you for the request! sorry if it's a bit messy, writing arguments is a little harder than i thought as someone who is very non-confrontational, but i definitely want to get better at it in the future (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ enjoy!

arguments don’t happen nearly as often as you might think. not full blown ones anyways, bickering is a daily occurrence between the two of you, but they’re full of empty words and sarcasm that has become an inside joke over time. 

however, even with all of the progress he’s made, the wanderer’s short temper is very much still an integral part of him. when those moments present themselves, you always find yourself at a loss. 

when those bad days happen, it’s like he’s an entirely different person. his usually empty threats seem to be full of venom, and he won’t engage in any of your typical antics with you. it goes left unsaid that it’s no doubt related to his past, but even that remains a mystery to you still, so you never know how to approach the situation. 

on one hand you know you can only do so much, you can’t force him to open up if he’s not ready and he has every right to want to be alone, but he won’t leave you alone on these days. he follows you around like a shadow, like he’s waiting for you to do something, but you have no idea what.

you know better than to take it personally by now, but it’s an exhausting ordeal all the same. 

“stop doing that.” he snaps, sending you a sharp glare. 

“stop doing what?“ your tone grows increasingly more frustrated by the second from trying so hard to grasp onto the loose ends that make up the wanderer, just to find them too short or entirely broken altogether. 

“acting like you understand,” his voice is strained and just bordering on a shout, as if it’s taking every ounce of his willpower not to yell. “just give it up already, quit trying to make me feel better. you can’t just magically fix what already happened.”

you inhale sharply at his words and dig your nails into your palms in an attempt to keep yourself calm, the dull pain just barely doing it’s job to clear your head and let you think. this argument has been building up for weeks, silently growing bigger in the background every time something from his past started bothering him and he became defensive when you tried to help. 

he’s been through a lot, has a past so full of pain and grief that you’d never be able to comprehend it, it’s only natural that it would be a touchy subject so you know it’s only partially his fault, but the issue lies in the fact that he’ll get equally as upset if you don’t help and give him his space instead. there’s no way to predict when these things will come up, and no way to predict which side of him you’ll see because of it. sometimes he’s receptive of your attempts at comforting him and lets himself be vulnerable with you, but the rest of the time, this happens. 

“what, so you just want me to stand here and ignore you every time you have a bad day?” you ask with more sarcasm than you intended, any possibility of this conversation happening peacefully being snuffed out on the spot. 

the wanderer scoffs. “isn’t that what you do anyways? you sure don’t seem to care most of the time.”

“you-“ the words nearly get caught in your throat as they rush out of you. “because you never tell me anything! how am i supposed to know how to help when you don’t want me to help?”

his eyes narrow as you say this and the intensity of the rage simmering in his irises sends a spike of fear down your spine for a split second. “i don’t want your help, so mind your own business.”

you can only watch quietly as he turns and storms off, probably to calm himself down or take his anger out on something else, and heave a defeated sigh at the whole situation. your heart aches for him as you walk back inside of the house and curl up on  the bed by yourself to wait for him. 

it’s hard to even be mad at him for lashing out like this, given it happens so rarely and you know he doesn’t mean it, but you also know that you don’t deserve to be treated like that so it leaves you conflicted and bone tired as the day fades into dusk while you lay unmoving on the soft blankets. 

when he finally returns a few hours later, his footsteps are light and apologetic as he walks through the door. his eyes are rimmed with red like he had been rubbing at them, and when he notices you laying in bed his face falls and he approaches hesitantly as you sit up. you stare at him wordlessly for a few seconds before finally breaking the silence. 

“are you okay?” 

his eyebrows shoot up like he wasn’t expecting the question and he blinks at you twice in surprise. “you’re… asking me if i’m okay?”

when you nod and tilt your head in confusion he brings his hand up to his forehead and exhales heavily. “of course i’m okay, are you okay?”

you hum affirmatively without even thinking about it and he clicks his tongue before setting his hat down and sitting beside you. “liar,” he says softly. he frowns down at his hands and you can tell he’s trying to sort out his words, so you give him a few moments to do so and cant help but fidget with your top while you wait. 

“i know i over reacted, and i'm sorry,” he finally starts. when he turns his gaze to yours his eyes are full of sincerity, but there’s a deeply rooted sadness behind them as well, one that gives away how fed up he is with himself. “why do you keep me around, even when i act like this?”

the answer comes to you so easily you aren’t even thinking when you reach out and grab his hand in yours. “because you’re important to me.” you respond earnestly, lightly squeezing his fingers. his frown deepens for a moment before disappearing altogether. 

“that’s foolish.” he sighs, trying to ignore the warmth in his cheeks from your touch. “what if i can never open up to you?”

“you don’t need to,” you respond honestly. the wanderer gives you a doubtful look but waits for you to continue. “you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, i just need to know what i can do to make it better.“

he gazes down at your joined hands with a twisted pout. “and what if i never get better?” he asks quietly and so hesitantly that you almost miss it and you can hear the centuries of hurt in the way his voice quivers. his eyes follow as you slowly lift his hand to your lips and press a soft kiss against his knuckles. “you will,” you whisper against his skin while the tension melts off of his face. 

instead of saying anything else, in a rare moment of him initiating physical contact, he lets his head fall forward until it lands in the crook of your neck, his arms snaking their way around your waist to hold your body against his tightly. you immediately relax into his embrace and rest your head against the top of his, arms curling around his shoulders firmly. 

“i’ll keep trying,” he mumbles against your neck, his warm breath fanning over your skin. you can’t help but smile softly and hold him just a bit tighter, thankful to have him back home after being alone for most of the day. though things still remain unfixed, and many more arguments are sure to come as he continues to heal, you know with absolute certainty that you’ll get through it together. 

[girl-next-door-writes]

There You Are: Bumps

Characters: George Weasley x reader

Summary: Fred steps up the search for George’s soulmate with unintended consequences.

Word Count: 1312 words

Standing on the bridge, leaning on the wooden frame, you looked out over the rain obscured view and wondered for the millionth time why a magical school couldn’t create the perfect climate around it. Raindrops pounded on the roof, creating a sort of white noise that helped silence your thoughts. Ignoring the slight chill in the air, you let out a deep sigh. At some point you would have to return to the castle, would need to start eating your meals in the Great Hall again rather than sneaking food out to some secluded place and eating alone. The problem was, now you knew George Weasley was your soulmate, now you knew he wasn’t interested in you, you couldn’t stand to be in the same room.

A sharp pain rocketed up your shin causing a curse to fall from your lips that echoed in the rain. Crouching down, you gripped your leg and rubbed it while you muttered to yourself about what an absolute git George Weasley was. You were unaware of the tears slowly running over your cheeks as you saw a bruise beginning to bloom on your skin. It was so unfair that the person who was supposed to be your soulmate was the person who continuously hurt you.

“OW!” George yelped, glaring at Fred as he sank down to sit on a bench, rubbing his shin. “What was that for?”

Fred was still standing, his eyes darting around the room as he frantically searched for anyone who might have shared his brother’s injury.

“Fred! What the bloody hell are you doing?”

“I’m looking for your soulmate you prat. Look, I’ve narrowed down the field but I still can’t find them. I’ve got a load of people who it isn’t.”

“Helpful.” Lee grinned as he tossed his bag down and sat beside George.

“It is. I’ve narrowed it down to two houses. Unless it’s a professor! Oh Merlin! What if it’s Snape!” Fred’s eyes widened dramatically causing George to roll his eyes and Lee to burst into laughter.

“George and Snape? Your mum would love that.”

“So, your plan was to drag me around and punch me or kick me, until you figured out who they are? Well, everyone is supposed to be here for dinner so if you haven’t found them then maybe they don’t exist. Maybe Snape was messing with us. Maybe I’m destined to be alone forever.” George slumped over the table, resting his forehead on his folded arms.

“You’re a twin, you’re never really alone.” Fred reminded him, quickly smacking him around the back of his head before looking up at the teachers table and eyeing McGonagall suspiciously.

“He could have a point about Snape. I mean, you two have been so busy with this soulmate stuff that you’ve not messed with Filch for ages.” Lee offered as he began to fill his plate.

Fred’s gaze now shifted to the potions Professor and he narrowed his eyes. Would he really have done this to keep them out of trouble? In his heart, Fred couldn’t quite believe that. “Nah, he’s a git, but he likes taking points off us too much. Georgie-boy here has a soulmate, and Snape knows who it is. Come on, we’re smarter than him, we can figure this out.”

“Sure, we can. Right, let’s make a list, then we can narrow it right down.” Lee suggested through a mouthful of pie.

And so, for weeks you were subjected to a new injury every few hours, ranging from dead arms, smacks round the back of your head, and the occasional Chinese burn. You had become an expert on hiding the pain, partly because you now looked like you could burst into tears at any moment. With each injury you were reminded of him, and the pain in your heart was so much worse than any you felt from the physical hurt. Each time, you were unsure if George was just clumsy or if this was a personal attack. Maybe he knew you were his soulmate and had decided to hurt you on purpose. A few weeks ago, you would never have thought that of him but through the hurt and lack of sleep, you had begun to entertain darker thoughts, the rejection like a black hole within you that drowned out anything good.

“Class was dismissed.” Snape stood in front of your desk, looking at you warily. He did not like to get involved with the ins and outs of students personal lives, but you were clearly unhappy and he had a duty of care.

“Professor,” you began cautiously, as if tasting each word that formed on your lips, “is it possible to get rid of a soulmate connection?” The thought had been rolling around in the back of your mind like whisps of fog, but now the question was asked, you realised just how desperate your situation was becoming.

“Ah.” Snape pulled up a stool and sat, his elbows resting on the desk. “Mr Weasley.”

Your head snapped up and you met his eye. Did everyone know? How long had he been making a fool out of you?

“George Weasley.” You said quietly, your gaze dropping back to the desk as if you were somehow unworthy to even say his name.

“I’m afraid these things do not work quite like that.” Snape wanted to tell you that these things often work themselves out, that being a teenager is horrendous, but it passes. As he carefully chose his words, your hand raised quickly to the right side of your head and you swayed on the stool. He quickly rounded the desk and caught you before you fell to the floor. A brief assessment of your head revealed a small bump forming and Snape felt anger raising within him. How could the boy be so careless, knowing he was hurting someone else, someone who was supposed to be important to him.

“What if they’re a first year?” Lee was asking, frowning at the list, which had most names scribbled off. “We’ve not got any of them on the list.”

“Hang on, Lee, keep an eye on them lot over on the grass.” Fred said before shoving his brother into the wall.

George had been deep in his own thoughts, his finger tracing over the small crescent scar on his arm and hadn’t heard Fred. His brother shoved him, and he lost his footing. Instead of his shoulder hitting the stone, his head took the main force.

“Fuck! Seriously!” He turned and glared at Fred, his hand raising to the side of his head, relieved that he couldn’t feel any blood. “If I do have a soulmate, I think they will be bloody pissed about it right now. I know I’m sick of it, and I know when it’s going to happen.” He stormed off, not waiting to see if Lee could confirm if any of the pupils over on the grass were his soulmate.

Lay in bed that night, George listened to the light snores coming from Lee and the shuffling of bedcovers as Fred shifted in his sleep. In the darkness, he ran his finger over his scar and began to imagine various scenarios in which he would meet you. He knew you’d be perfect, you were his soulmate so how could you not be. You would be smart and interesting and funny. Definitely warm and loving.

He was brought out of his daydream by a sharp scratch on the inside of his left arm. The scratches continued and he sat up in his bed, reaching for his wand.

“Lumos.” He whispered, bringing the tip of his wand to his arm, and he felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. There on his skin, in angry red scratches, were two words. A message from his soulmate. It simply said, ‘please stop’.

[callsign-mimic]

Finally! I finally got it all typed up! So here it is:

A Waltz with Patience

Part 4.

Part 3 is here

Tags/CW: Wholesome AF, in which Nikto "casually" drops some info, Rusty concocts a plan, the team gets to see some of Mimic's performing skills, and Castle gets another win

Word Count: 1312 (lol)

"Daddy got Mimic to dance with him?" You ask, eyes shining with excitement as you looked up at Nikto. He had mentioned it so casually to you and Rusty, but you knew better. It was obvious that he had ulterior motives in telling you. Nikto was very secretive. Nothing he said was without thought. And his words had Rusty grinning like a madman.

"Mama loves music." He says, looking between you and Nikto with a manic grin. "It's the easiest way to get her to actually open up and be herself. She's entirely in her element when there's music playing." He's practically vibrating in his seat, clearly excited by this little it of information that Nikto had given you. Rusty looks at you, a mischievous gleam in his pretty green eyes. "I've got an idea that might finally get her to open up enough to stop being so shy around everyone. Especially the captain."

The two of you worked together on Rusty's plan. It was simple enough. He made a playlist to use to ease Mimic into opening up more while being able to fully enjoy herself. "One of her nicknames is 'The Bard.' Her skill for performance is almost otherworldly." Rusty tells you as he selects songs and adds them to the list. "She can match the vibe of a song in an instant and put on a show that will leave the whole audience captivated. Trust me. The captain is in for one hell of a show."

Getting Keegan and Nova to agree to help didn't take any convincing. They both saw the way their captain looked at Mimic when she wasn't paying attention. The idea that they would be able to finally get the skittish lieutenant to relax around him, all while being able to watch her perform, was too tempting to pass up.

Later that evening, the four of you enacted Rusty's plan while everyone was relaxing in the common room. You were sitting at a table with Rusty, Keegan, and Nova, playing a game of cards that you were barely paying any attention to. Castle and Nikto were sitting on the couch, reading over the mission details once more. Mimic was curled up in an armchair, quietly reading a book and trying not to draw any attention to herself. Not that it was working all that well, since Castle kept sneaking glances at her.

They current song running on Rusty's devious playlist was a relaxing, instrumental number. You had noticed that Mimic had almost immediately relaxed when the music had started. Rusty obviously knew what he was doing. As the relaxing music gave way to a more upbeat song, he got up and held a hand out to you. You took it, letting him pull you out of your seat and lead you in a fun dance. Castle looks up, raising an eyebrow at the scene, a small smirk on his face. He glances over at Mimic to find her watching as well with a small smile on her face.

Dancing with Rusty was exhilirating. He had no problem keeping up with the beat, and had you giggling as he moved you around. Nova and Keegan join you two during the next song, enjoying the moment of pure fun. Mimic had put her book down and was watching the four of you enjoy yourselves, her fingers tapping out the beat against her thigh.

Rusty finally gets Mimic on her feet and moving with the third song. As she starts to dance, he crows an enthusiastic "C'mon, Mama! Show 'em how it's done!" She doesn't miss a beat when the lyrics kick in, matching the the energy of the song and singing with a confidence that the team wouldn't have thought her capable of. You were completely captivated as she essentially put on a show for everyone. She even pulled Keegan and Nova in to dance with her during different parts of the song.

Mimic belts out and holds a high note so perfectly that the team cheers. Even Nikto claps for her, impressed by her skill. Rusty taps Castle on the shoulder and leads him to a chair that had been placed in the center of the room. The lanky redhead grins and winks. "Best seat in the house, Cap." He drawls before returning to your side.

He had clearly thought this plan through very thoroughly, because the next song was a sultry and seductive number, and Mimic zeroed in on Castle. She saunters over to him, her voice low as she sings. Moving around him as if she were appraising an offering.

"And you're looking at me, like I'm your Eve. Down on your knees."

Castle was not prepared for her actions during those lyrics. She simultaneously pulled him forward by his shirt and kicked the chair out from under him, forcing him to his knees with perfect timing. His eyes were locked on her as she continued to move around him, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. She danced with natural grace and sensuality, the sway of her hips making his mouth water.

When the song ends, Mimic is standing in front of Castle, leaning down with his chin cupped in her hand and his hands grasping her hips. Before she can pull away and escape his grasp once again, Castle stands quickly, scooping her up in his arms and devouring her surprised yelp as his lips meet hers in a fervid kiss. Mimic melts into the kiss, returning it with just as much passion as her legs wrap around his waist.

He pulls away slightly, looking into those soft grey eyes as he continues to hold her in his arms. God, she feels so good against him. He was tempted to carry her to his room, strip her down, and bury his face between her pretty thighs until her voice was hoarse from her cries of pleasure. But not yet. She was getting shy again, that telltale blush blooming on her pale cheeks. Flower petals on freshly fallen snow.

The team spends the rest of the evening dancing and laughing, with Castle stealing sweet kisses every chance he gets. He doesn't neglect you or the rest of the team, of course he doesn't. But the four of you redirect him back to Mimic every time. Her time with the team was limited, after all. Even Nikto was soaking in his time with her, letting her lead him in a relaxed waltz while everyone else sat back and watched.

When it comes time for lights out, Castle wraps his arms around Mimic's waist. He kisses her sweetly before gazing fondly down at her.

"Keep me company tonight?" He asks quietly, tilting his head to the side just slightly as the corners of his mouth curl up into a warm smile. He wasn't going to pressure her, knowing that taking things at her pace would make the end result that much sweeter. Mimic looks up at him, getting lost for a moment in those gorgeous brown eyes. She nods, letting him lead her to his room.

He lets her get comfortable in the bed first before he settles in behind her and pulls her back against his chest. Her body fit against his so perfectly, and he relished the way she relaxed in his embrace. He buried his face in her hair, taking in her scent and appreciating that the skittish little rabbit was starting to accept his affection.

Mimic felt Castle's chest rumble against her back as he whispered soft praises to her, his hand moving gently up and down her side. The combination of his voice and touch lull her into a deep, peaceful sleep. When he knew for sure that she was sleeping, Castle finally allowed himself to slip into a sweet slumber, looking forward to waking up with her.

Songs that inspired this part:

What A Time to be Alive - Fall Out Boy

Martyr -KiNG MALA

Taglist: @charliemwrites @soupforthecryptids

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

Natural

Welcome to Oakley Photography, how can I help y- Oh? Oh. You're that godson.

Pairing: none

Word count: 1312

Warnings: none, very silly

Notes: a little ficlet in my Love and Other Fairytales verse! white makes friend :)

[lorifragolina]

Let's live a little

I'm going almost for half the Bingo card! It's my fourth fill, square C2, prompt "Let's live a little". This work belongs to the Harringrove droplets series (where they are settled in California and try to find their way). It's a sort of introduction for the next work for the prompt "Loss of control".

Title: "Let's live a little"

Square & Prompt: C2 "Let's live a little"

Rating: General

Word Count: 1312

Major Tags: Harringrove, domestic life, money, date night

Summary: Steve and Billy happily live together, but Neil Hargrove's ghost still haunts Billy. Steve has an idea to distract him and spend a different night together, along with a lot of money!

Read on Ao3

Steve knew perfectly who he had to blame for that. 

Neil Hargrove in his best moments, of course. As for many, many problems in Billy’s life.

Steve didn’t notice it at the beginning; he never had to think about money, not seriously, his parents had pushed to work for his minor expenses but he never had to struggle for the bills, the rent, the groceries, and either for saving or having a pillow for a rainy day. 

When he moved in with Billy, he had to deal with the basic money for living, but fortunately they both had decent salaries and it wasn’t really difficult making ends meet. 

And fortunately, Billy was a better administrator than Steve, he was used to set aside any little money he can put his hands on, and planned his expenses carefully, so he started managing their finances there, in California, and Steve was happy for that at first; he didn't know how to start and Billy was prepared. 

It took a little time for Steve to notice that Billy was not only well prepared to manage their money, but rather obsessed with it. Steve gave Billy his money when they paid him, and Billy religiously splitted the money in various envelopes, classified in a shoebox with labels and a color system that Steve didn’t bother to learn: one envelope for the rent, of course, one for the bills, one for the groceries, one for other expenses like the subscription to the videoclub or the gym, the extra saving and other personal things; Billy gave Steve the remaining money back and they never discussed about their handing; Billy was at peace and Steve was happy without worrying about trivial questions. 

He had the first hint the day he wore Billy’s denim jacket by mistake, he took it from the rack in a rush and noticed it only on his way for work; it would be a minor incident if he hadn’t feel something strange, rigid and crunchy sewed inside the lining of the jacket; it sound like a few dollars and it seemed quite strange to him. Later, at home, he also checked Billy's leather jacket and found the same thing; he got suspicious, he knew how such things worked although he never needed them, so he took Billy’s boots and checked inside, finding two fifty bucks under each sole. He searched between Billy’s things, those he hid at the top of the closet, and found various rolls of bills hidden in books and little cans, and finally he checked the Camaro and found some hiding with money. 

He knew enough to understand that Billy was prepared for a possible run, not only as a remote possibility but as an actual risk; he was ready to run at any moment and always had some cash with him, like in Hawkins, after all, waiting for the point of no return with his father. 

When they started dating in California, Steve remembered that Billy was a little more free and didn’t save that much, but after some months things had changed, exactly from the call where Max advised them that Neil Hargrove left them out of a sudden, in october. 

Billy started being obsessed with his father, he feared Neil was able to track him down and make him pay for running away and above all stealing his money. 

Steve was angry with that man, although he thought he couldn’t find them in Los Angeles, but he hated him also because he forced Billy to be too cautious with money, and afraid to allow himself a little treat from time to time. 

“Here you are,” Billy handed Steve a bundle of money, the remaining from his monthly planning. 

Steve was tired of seeing him always bent on the table with his expenses notebook, obsessed to make ends meet and doing things well. 

The hair was getting hotter, near the Californian summer, and Steve was tired to live like a recluse because of what Neil Hargrove had taught to his son. 

“Hey, let’s go to the city for a night, as in the old times,” he waved the money under Billy’s nose. 

Billy looked at the money and then at Steve.

“I am a little short this mouth,” he murmured, lowering his eyes again. It wasn’t really true, but he was trying to save as much as possible, and Steve knew. 

“Don’t worry, I'll buy,” he smiled, waving the money again. “Come on, Billy, we haven't gone out in ages”.

Billy tapped on the table. “What do you have in mind?”

“Let’s see… a dinner in the most expensive restaurant we can find, then we can drink something and go clubbing to the early hours. I’m buying,” insisted Steve. “We deserve a fucking break. You deserve a break”.

Billy chewed his inner cheek, then shrugged. “Ok, why not. You’re buying,” he smiled and Steve clapped. 

When Billy came out of the bathroom, well groomed and well scented for the date, he was stunning, but uncertain. 

“Are you still sure it’s a good idea?” He shrugged a little, sleeking the black shirt Steve gave him at Christmas and he had barely used since then.

“Absolutely,” Steve admired his boyfriend and his beauty, how he was able to get ready with a few wise touches, the watch, the bracelet, the rings and the necklaces, his curls and his colony smelling expensive, the lipgloss he always wore. “You deserve it. Let’s live a little,” concluded Steve, unbuttoning a couple buttons more on Billy’s shirt. “Done. Now you’re perfect”.

Billy smiled and nodded, taking his hand and following him to the car.

The restaurant was very elegant and very expensive, as Billy’s curse look at the menu highlighted eloquently.

“Don’t worry, babe. A day it’s a day”.

Billy pursed his lips, looking carefully around like he expected to see his father sprouting up suddenly, but Steve discreetly showed his money again, in the pocket of the designer jacket he wore, and Billy relaxed. They seemed like two executives treating themselves and flashing money every now and then, and with a couple glasses of an expensive and overrated wine, Billy relaxed and started to find the situation really funny.

“Do you think all the people here imagine that I fuck you and I’ll undress you very soon?” smirked Steve at a certain point, fidgeting with his salmon starter. 

Billy blushed and nearly choked with his bite, but then he burst out laughing openly.

“Shit, this wasn’t really smooth,” he laughed.

“Didn’t want to be smooth. After spending all that money I expected at least to get laid”.

Billy laughed again, sipping his wine. 

“I’m sorry you’re wasting your money, I’d sleep with you for free”.

Steve winked. “Of course, I know”.

At the end of the dinner, they were way more tipsy and stupid, and they kept laughing at each other silliness. It was ages Steve didn’t see Billy so relaxed and at ease, and he took his hand while walking to the car.

“Let’s take a walk on the beach,” said Billy instead, dragging him to the beach road. 

Steve pulled Billy towards him and kissed him at the moonlight of this warm and scented June. 

They took their shoes off and walked a little on the fresh sand, hand in hand. 

“Let’s continue our night off?” said Steve after a while. 

“What do you have in mind?”

Steve thought a little, then he smirked with a sort of crooked smile. “I just had an idea”.

“Don’t know if I like your face now”.

“You’re going to like it. You’ll see. You’re nineteen. Let your hair down and let me help to lose control”.

Billy bit his lip, grinning to him. He grabbed Steve’s face and stole him a breathtaking kiss. He nodded.

“Let’s do it”.

Steve laughed and dragged him by his hand.

[fanfic-scribbles]

Dinner Date Chapter 30

Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers has a girlfriend. A prickly, generally asocial girlfriend, but they make it work. They have more in common than some people might think.

Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 30: Fight Fight Fight

Chapter Summary: All couples have their problems. Some of them are just a little stranger than others– the problems, that is. …And the couple.

Chapter Word Count: 1312

A/N: This is just a weird little thing I found too funny for my own good. Similarly, the next few chapters will probably be a lot more random than usual, as I clear out some of the old vignettes and pieces I have that I really like but that probably won’t work with the next part of the story that’s coming. What next part? Don’t worry about it :)

~

Steve was mad at me.

“Thanks, sweetheart; you’re the best.”

The only problem was– I didn’t know why.

“I’m really glad you invited me over today.”

I squinted at him, but all he did was smile sweetly. “What’s wrong?” he asked, eyes widening with concern. With fake concern. I didn’t know who he thought he was fooling– certainly not me– but I had nothing to really call him out on. All I had was a suspiciously forced cheerful attitude, a plethora of compliments, and overwhelming sweetness. Like, the compliments were…fine; nothing insincere, it was more the way he said them. The way he said everything, actually. It was starting to make my skin itch, and he had to know it. He knew how I felt about him being…saccharine.

Still. Bringing it up would be awkward, and if he was mad at me…well, I probably deserved it. If all he was going to do was be a little petty, maybe I could work it out and apologize properly instead of making it a bigger fight by admitting I didn’t know what he was mad about.

“Nothing,” I said and held out the bowl.

“Thanks sweetheart,” he said and took a handful. “I really love how generous you are.”

Yeah, I was definitely in the doghouse for something. I just had to figure out what.

~

Try as I might, though, I could not get to the bottom of this.

“You’re so sweet.”

I did glare at him for that one. Again, I was faced with innocent blinking eyes. I glared more, but then he lifted a brow and held out the bowl of chips, and I tentatively reached out and took one. “Thanks,” I said, for lack of anything better.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

The way he said that was so weird I knew it had to be a hint. So: food. It had to do with food. Stealing food? But I hadn’t stolen any of his food that I could think of. We shared bites of things all the time. What would drive him to needle me for nearly a week straight? It was weird. And unsettling.

“That’s…good?” I said uncertainly.

“I think so,” he said mildly, and when I twitched he nearly grinned. He looked at me, like he was waiting for something…

…and fuck that. Whatever I did was not bad enough for all this irritation. It couldn’t have been. I would have remembered it, I would have.

The smile was gone, but he looked over me with an air of self-satisfaction that made me twitch again.

I hoped I would remember it soon.

~

“Hey Honey.”

“Oh what the hell is that?” I asked and turned to face him.

Again I was met with blinking innocence. There was something about that boyish expression that made me…I didn’t even know. It was cute. It was too cute. And he was trying so hard to be annoying and completely succeeding in a way that made me jealous. If I tried to be that sickly sweet it would be disgusting (or hilarious) but he pulled it off in a way that completely caught me off-guard every single time.

“I just wanted to try out some new nicknames,” he said. “Is that a ‘no’ on that one?”

“Yeah, no,” I said and watched his face. He didn’t so much as twitch. I opened my mouth, ready to ask him why he was acting like this, but I stopped. I was going to figure this out.

“What do you think about going out, Pumpkin?”

I had to figure this out.

~

“Would you like a bite, Sweetie?”

“Is it too cold in here, Cupcake?”

“Look at this, Sugar Pie.”

“Can you pass me the syrup, Sweetness?”

I hit my fist on the table. “Okay, okay, okay,” I said and, because dignity what dignity no I didn’t know her, dropped to my knees next to his chair, clasped my hands, and groveled. “Please stop. I’m sorry, I’m sorry; I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry!”

He smiled sweetly but said nothing. Just sipped his coffee, and I knew, just by looking at him, he had no intentions of letting up. I groaned. “Please, I can’t take this anymore! I swear I’m sorry!”

“If you don’t know what you’re apologizing for, then are you really sorry?” he said skeptically.

“I am!” I insisted. “I have been trying to figure this out for two weeks now but you know my memory is shit.” I looked up at him and tried for the most pathetic expression I could manage.

Apparently, it was suitably pathetic, because he broke a little, with a snort and a smile that cracked open before he could put his hand to cover it. He sighed and dropped his hand. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll stop.”

I let out a huge sigh of relief. Then I studied him. “So,” I said. “Your method of tormenting me is giving over-the-top compliments and stupid cutesy nicknames?”

“Mm hm,” he said smugly.

“And you were willing to call me shit like “Bonbon” for weeks?”

“Or longer.”

“You bitch,” I said in awe. “You’re so petty. So sadistic.”

“Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’ extra hard.

I stared at him, just sitting there, calmly drinking his coffee while I lost my mind. He shot me a devious little smirk, but there was a softness in his eyes, and he kept looking at me like he was gauging just how bothered I was by this. Toeing the line, but I knew if he thought he’d gone over, he would have stopped immediately.

“You are the perfect boyfriend,” I said, overcome with just as much softness.

He blinked, then blushed and ducked his head.

“Dude,” Clint wheezed, and I suddenly remembered we were among friends.

“You two need therapy,” Sam said with mild awe. “Not couple’s therapy; just, in general. Good Lord.”

“There isn’t a therapist in the world qualified enough to deal with either of them,” Natasha said, still reading her paper.

I got off the floor and dusted my knees, a little embarrassed. Steve pulled me in with one arm and I hugged him, feeling the walls break a little. “I am sorry,” I said. “For whatever I did that annoyed you enough to keep this up for two whole weeks.”

“I’ll forgive you.”

Satisfied, I let that be it.

…Well, mostly satisfied.

“Now that you aren’t mad anymore, will you tell me what I did so I can never do that again?”

He sighed heavily and frowned at me as he let go. “I mean it!” I said. “I really have no idea what happened.”

He rolled his eyes. “You remember that breakfast we had? From the French place with the really good pastries?”

I had to think. “Like, the Sunday before last?”

He nodded. “When you ate my pastries?”

When I–?

Oh. Wait a cotton fucking second.

I stared at him. “You mean that day that you decided to get something different so I got the special croissants?”

He frowned. “But…you also got the tart.”

“The tart was for later,” I said, watching him start to close in on the memory. “Remember how I said I was bummed I didn’t get to mooch off your croissant? And that I had to get my own? I complained about it so much that you complained?!”

He squinted. I folded my arms and waited for Mr. Eidetic Memory to catch a clue. And so did everyone else– Clint and Sam leaned in like they were watching a dramatic play in a sports game, and even Natasha deigned to lift her head.

When it finally, finally clicked, Steve’s cheeks flushed pink and he ducked his head into his shoulders. “Oops.” He gave me a very, very sad expression. “I’m sorry?”

I narrowed my eyes.

He sure as shit was going to be.

~

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[biaswreckme]

the prophecy | jongsang

"I'm just a paperweight in shades of greige Spending my last coin so someone will tell me it'll be okay" or Yeosang, who has lived under a curse his entire life, finds hope.

Fandom: Ateez

Pairing: Jongho/Yeosang

Member: Yeosang, Jongho

Word count: 1312 words

Genre/Tropes: Alternate Universe (Fantasy), Angst (with a happy ending), Hurt/Comfort

Rating: nc-17

Triggers/Warnings: past child abandonment, touch-starved characters

You can read it on: AO3

At first his family had tried to hide it from him, but soon Kang Yeosang learned the words that would haunt him. Some used to say it was a curse; others, a prophecy. Nevertheless, there was always this ominous cloud hovering Yeosang’s head. He remembered when his family just stopped trying to search for a cure and left while stars were high in the sky and he was fast immersed in dreams. He was reminded of the abandonment and the curse whenever he looked in a mirror, the reflection of the red mark on the side of his face as a constant and unfaltering presence of his bad luck. 

He remembered begging on the village’s square, knees red and bruised from being on them for far too long, calling out to anyone who would listen, to anyone who would take his message to a seer. After useless years and years of no one even bothering to spare a glance into his direction, much less conveying his message to someone who could help, he abandoned all his hope behind, left it all on that stone-floor square. He isolated himself even further, packing up his things and moving into an abandoned cabin in the woods halfway between two villages, close enough to get provisions when necessary, yet far enough so no one would bother him. Nights were always cold no matter the season, his fingers scaringly turning blue no matter how many layers and close to the fire he sat. He knew it was part of the curse, the cold permeating his body, and some evenings it scared him even more. 

He was set to go into the nearest village that day, and tried to prepare his mind and body. His clothes were simple; he usually got cotton fabrics, learning to sew and knit himself garments to avoid spending time in shops. His clothes were in shades of gray and beige, trying to be as unnoticed as possible when going into the village. And he always wore a hood, his hair on the longer side, to hide the mark on the side of his face.

As soon as he entered the marketplace, he heard the rumors that strange men had arrived into town, ones who talked about sailing from and to strange places, all things that made no sense to Yeosang. He saw people whispering, no discretion, and for once he was glad he was not at the end of the pointed fingers. But he could not help but be sad for the men. Sure, they were dressed in outlandish fits, but it made sense considering the stories. He could not count how many there were; he knew how it felt to be stared at, so he avoided his gaze, just going his way.

When he approached the stall to get some food that he could not gather or plant himself, something at the next stall seemed to be staring right into his soul. He approached and saw an open book, pages talking of curses that left visible marks on the skin. His hands shook, heart accelerating and he found it difficult to breathe for a moment. Before he could touch the book, however, the owner harshly closed it, stating that if he wanted to see it, he would have to buy it, and stated his price. Yeosang counted the small coins he had on a pouch, putting them on his palm. They were not enough to buy the food and the book that day, so he was going to have to make a choice. And even though his stomach grumbled and clenched in pain for something else, he chose the book. He could feel someone was watching him, and he adjusted his hood, hiding even further from prying eyes, and clenching the book tightly to his chest, he left. 

He just needed to know if he was going to be okay, if the curse could be reversed somehow, so as soon as he got home, he searched the book. His eyes searched the pages, finding branding as similar to the one on his own face, but there was confirmation to what he already knew. He almost howled, throwing the book at the wall. The aches in his body already were proof enough that the curse was acting up, the way his fingers froze - and he tried to lie to himself saying it was from the cold. How his body sometimes seemed stuck in a position, or a limb felt like stone. 

Because they were. Turning into stone, that is. Or better yet, he was slowly becoming a statue. The prophecy spoke of greater worlds, of men sailing the skies guarding a market soulmate that could end his curse, but there was no one like that. One sailed the seas, not the skies. And because the prophecy talked of warriors coming for him, his family was scared and left him. He was fated to freeze and crumble, alone in his isolated house. 

And then he heard a knock on his door.

He hesitated, for no one ever visited him. Whenever he needed, he set out to places, even when he needed coins and sold the garments he created. There was no other knock, and whoever it was seemed to go away, so Yeosang approached the front door and opened it, looking outside. There was nobody there. But when he looked down, he found a basket filled with the food he had longingly looked at when he was at the market. He suspected one of the strangers, because no one else in the village would do him this kindness. And over the next few days, there were even more small presents, as he liked to think of them. 

The day after the first basket he received, there was a note from the sender. Yeosang had guessed he was not from around here, and he was correct. Jongho was his name, and he came from somewhere Yeosang could not even come close to pronouncing correctly. Jongho had heard about him in the market, and saw how he was torn between the book and the food and how all the other people there treated him worse than garbage. At first Yeosang was livid, thinking Jongho was pitying him. But wasn’t he deserving of at least some pity? Of some compassion? So he thanked the man, leaving his response on his front porch.

There was an answer the next day, and so they continued with the communication. He was glad it was all written down initially, not having to face another person, afraid of his reaction upon seeing his curse. And so they kept the conversation, learning about each other, of Yeosang’s knitting and Jongho’s fighting. Of Yeosang’s rejections, and Jongho’s loneliness even when in a ship with his crewmates and friends. Of Yeosang’s family abandoning him, and Jongho’s family dying in a conflict. They learned, and they yearned. 

And when he saw (more like caught) Jongho leaving another note, he understood everything. 

There it was, in Jongho’s face, a mirror image of his own prophetic mark. A soulmate mark, red skin close to his eye, looking almost like a heart - as Yeosang noticed, his own clouded judgment about the spot never letting him truly notice it for what it was. And when Jongho extended his hand, he saw the gray discoloration on the man’s arms, but as he touched it, he could feel fresh air entering his lungs, warmth taking over his entire body, the cold on the other man’s limbs disappearing. And he cried. They cried. This was his warrior, the strange man who would sail the sky to find him. To save him. His soulmate.

And for the first time in his life, Yeosang had hope. He was going to follow Jongho into the unknown worlds, but he would be okay. They would be alright.

[vodika-vibes]

it’s me again~

and very predictably I’m back for Mereel 😅

May I request either the „then take me“ response to one saying „I want you“ oooor the „Fuck it, I told them to give us two beds!" "Hmm, did you, though?" "I swear I did." because who doesn’t love a good „there was only one bed“ moment 😅🫣

Thaaaaank you ❤️❤️

One Bed

Summary: When you have to go on a mission with Mereel, you're thrilled...right up until the sandstorm starts.

Pairing: Mereel Skirata x Reader

Word Count: 1312

Warnings: None, some heavy kissing, but no smut

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I couldn't decide which prompt I liked more, sooo...I used them both, lol. I hope you like it!

Divider by Saradika

When you found out that you were going on a mission with Mereel, you were excited. Well, about as excited as you could be seeing as it was a work mission, and you’re an inherently lazy person, but having one on one time with Mereel, even if only for work, wasn’t exactly a hardship.

After all, he’s handsome and funny and charming…and just about as perfect a man who's ever existed.

So you put your annoyance at it being a work trip rather than a vacation to the side, and focused on the fact that it was Mereel that you were working with.

And the mission had been going well. Or, well, as well as it could be, given the situation.

And then the storm started.

You tug the collar of your shirt higher, trying to keep the sand out of your mouth and nose, and you squint at Mereel. He’s protected from the sandstorm by virtue of having armor and a helmet, but you aren’t. And your eyes are already burning from all of the fine sand and dust.

“There’s a hotel not far from here,” Mereel says, his voice raised to be heard over the wailing wind, he takes your hand, his visibility better than yours, and he tugs you close, doing his best to shield you from the sand.

True to his word, the hotel wasn’t far away, and as soon as he pushed you inside, and then stumbled in behind you, several people swarmed you. 

“Oh dear,” An old woman said as she ushered you to a small first aid stand near the door, “Let’s get the sand out of your eyes.”

Mereel pulls his helmet off, and he keeps his eyes on you for a moment, before he walks over to the front desk to get a room, or a pair of rooms, for the both of you.

By the time your eyes are cleaned out, and the skin irritation has been cleaned and treated with bacta, Mereel has a room for you to share.

“The hotel is packed, they only have a few rooms available, so we have to share.” Mereel explains as he scans your face, a frown crossing his face when his gaze lingers on your healing injuries.

“That’s alright.” You reply with a small smile, “I’m alright, Mereel.” You add softly.

“Should have given you my helmet,” He grumbles.

“By the time we realized what was going on, it was too late.” You reassure, “The lady who was helping me said that this is a massive storm, she thinks it’s going to last all night.”

“Of course.” Mereel sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, “Come on, pretty girl. Let’s go see our room.” He checks the key card once more, and then turns and heads towards the stairs. 

He unlocks the door, and steps into the room, with you hot on his heels, and then his head falls back and he releases a deep, deep sigh.

“What? What’s wrong?” You peek around him, and then look up at him quizzically. It looks like any other hotel room in the galaxy. Bland and boring, with a splash of color from a single painting on the wall. 

“Fuck it,” Mereel grumbles, as he tosses his helmet on the bed, “I told them to give us two beds.”

You flicker your gaze across the room again, and finally take note of the single bed in the room. You feel your face heat in embarrassment, and your stomach flips nervously, but you just flash a teasing smile, “Hm…did you though?”

His head whips around to stare at you, “I swear I did!” He almost yelps, “I wouldn’t do that to you!”

You laugh softly, “Mereel. It was a joke. I know you wouldn’t.”

Some of the tension drains out of his body, “Right. Right, of course.” He nervously rubs the back of his neck, and you smile at him soothingly as you enter the room properly, and sit on the edge of the bed to pull off your boots. “So, I can sleep on the couch-”

“Don’t be silly,” You interrupt, as you drop your boots on the floor, and then kick them against the dresser, “We can share the bed, Mereel.”

“We can…what?” Mereel asks as he turns to look at you.

“We’re both adults,” You point out, “Surely we can share the same bed for one night.”

“Uh…right…”

Your eyebrows creep up your forehead, “Unless you don’t want to share a bed with me, in which case I can sleep on the couch.”

He stares at you for a moment, and then he releases a quiet laugh, before he sits on the bed and starts removing his armor, “Trust me, cyare. I definitely want to share a bed with you.” He says lightly.

“You do?”

He strips himself down to his blacks in under a minute, and he stacks his armor on a chair, and then he looks at you, his gaze heated, “Yeah, mesh’la. More than I should.”

“Uh…what does that mean, exactly.” You ask.

He arches a brow and considers you for a moment, “It means, cyar’ika, that I want you. Have for an embarrassing amount of time, actually.”

Your lips part, and your heart races, “Then take me.” You whisper.

This time his jaw drops, and genuine surprise flitters across his face, “You…seriously?”

“What, you think I’m lying?” You ask.

Mereel doesn’t move for a moment, you’re not sure he’s even breathing. He just stares at you for long enough that you start to get uncomfortable, and you shift your weight on the bed.

And then he’s on top of you, his lips crashing against yours as you topple backwards on the bed. Your fingers slide under his top, pressing into his solid muscles, and he groans in sheer bliss. You feel a surge of delight as you pull that noise from him.

You slide his shirt up, and one of Mereel’s hands slides to cup the back of your head as he deepens the kiss, using his lips and teeth to pull delicious sounds from you.

And then he pulls away, gently tugging your hands from under his shirt, and he moves away from you to lean against the headboard. You make a noise of disappointment and sit up to crawl over to him.

He stops you with a single raised hand, “Hold on, sweetheart.”

You sit back on your heels and you watch him curiously. He takes several deep breaths, and then he opens his eyes, “You’re gorgeous, and perfect…and I am not having sex with you tonight.”

“You’re not?” You ask, sounding disappointed enough that a laugh falls from his lips.

“No. One, you’re injured. Two, we’re on a mission, and three,” He reaches out and lightly trails his fingers over your still irritated skin, and you cringe in discomfort, “And three, I don’t want to rush this. You deserve for me to do this right.”

“I don’t-?”

“I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to take you on dates and picnics and buy you flowers and chocolates and make you giggle and swoon over bad poetry,” Mereel says quietly, “I also want to kiss you until you’re breathless and the only thing you can think about is me.”

You turn your head slightly and kiss the palm of his hand, “You want to go slow,” You murmur softly.

“Yes.”

You favor him with a small smile, “I can do slow. But can I still kiss and cuddle you?”

Mereel laughs and opens his arms for you. And you immediately crawl over to him and press your face against his neck. He folds his arms around you, and you feel his lips against the top of your head. You feel safe and warm and protected, so your eyes close and you snuggle closer to him.

[devilherself666]

Bakugo X F!Reader

Disclaimer: This will be based on the real world, but they will still have quirks, But just imagine Bakugo being the stepdad to your kids!

Word count: 1312

Warnings: cussing, some fluffy, Bakugo X F!reader 

You were sitting on the couch as the kids were running around playing as it was cold outside, you lived in a house anyway so not as the yelling and stomping was going to bother anyone, as they played you cleaned. As you were cleaning the kitchen you could hear your boy in the front laughing and having fun with his sister. “DIE!” He yelled and you stopped in your tracks, you knew where he learned that, you knew who taught him such things, but you wanted to make sure.

You walk into the front room leaving the undone dishes behind. You walked up to your boy. “B/N where did you learn that?” You asked him softly. “On the news! Katsu always says it! He is so cool!” He smiled brightly, he was really proud of what he said, so how could you be mad at that? That did worry you though. Bakugo has been very distant lately, so you always thought he would be leaving you soon. It hurt your heart that they loved him so much and he was just going to leave like their real dad did. You pat his head lighting. “Just don’t say that in school okay?” You asked. He nodded. “I promise!” He smiled, his sister looked at him and you. “Could you turn on the all might movie for us, momma?” She asked, and you giggled and nodded. You turned on the movie and went back to the dishes as you couldn’t help but let your thoughts take over. Bakugo was gone all day and night, it was as if he didn't wanna be around the kids or me..It did make sense because the man got a short fuse, but when he is around them he is so happy, it just didn’t make any sense to you. You knew he would never ever cheat on you so that wasn’t even on your mind, he was the most loyal man you ever met. Just the overthinking began to hurt why he always let you. 

You look at the kids watching the tv. “Momma gonna take a shower, don’t answer the door, and try not to make too big of a mess.” You spoke lightly as you were slowly draining yourself with your thoughts. They nodded. You walked to the bathroom, you hoped a hot shower would help you clear theses thoughts. You turned on the hot side only as you just jumped in, the burning water hurt but the thoughts before hurt more. As you washed your hair and body trying to relax in the water as you heard the front door open. You knew the kids were listening so it wasn’t them, but you knew who it was when you heard the yelling. “KATU!” “DAD!” Your son was very worried about calling him dad, and that makes sense, because he was scared he would get attached to him and he would leave them. “Where is your mother?” He asked. “Shower. She seemed sad.” The daughter spoked worriedly. Bakugo sighed as he was worried about you too. He walked to the bathroom and opened the door, the steam hitting him in the face like a sauna. “Babe! How hot do you have that water?” He asked worriedly. You sighed as you turned off the water, as you grabbed the towel wrapping yourself in it before stopping out the bath. Your skin was red from the heat of the water, your body was smoking. “I’m fine.” You said with no emotion as you knew the thoughts would return sooner or later. 

You walked past him to the room as you picked out one of his shirts as some short and put them on. Of course he followed, he missed you all day. All he was thinking about was you and the kids all day at work, he was so excited to watch a movie with the family, but after seeing you like this he was worried. He hasn’t seen you like this since your ex left you and the kids. You and Bakugou were best friends before you even thought about dating so he understood you more than anyone else. “What is wrong?” He asked worriedly as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You sighed as you knew the hot head didn’t wanna hear your thoughts and the last thing you needed was him getting mad at you, that is all it would take for you to cry right now. “Nothing.” You shrugged. “Listen here you fucking brat, something is wrong. Now tell me.” He gruffed. You sighed as you shook your head. “I’m fine.” You tried to walk away as he pushed you on the bed and held you down. “Tell me what is wrong, now!” He grumbled. You sighed as you held your tears in. You hated when he fought it out of you, but those times you weren't on the edge, crying was rare for you. You always had a good posture, and a good back bone. You looked down, not making eye contact with the man over you. “Are you just gonna leave?..” You asked scared of the answer. He loosened his grip on you, as he looked at you in shock and disbelief, but he understood the trauma you have been through because of the prick before him. He hugged you tightly as you took in his caramel smell. “You idiot, you are stuck with me, just like you were when we were kids. You are not getting rid of me even if you tried.” He spoke. Despite the insults you knew he was being nice to you, conforming you his best when he knew he sucked at it. You chuckled a bit, feeling better as you hugged him. “Then why are you always gone? Do we annoy you?” You asked as you were slowly stocking his back. “Dumbass, of course you annoy me, but I love you guys more than anything.” He kissed your forehead as he smirked at you. “I am not fucking him! He was a prick. I am a dick! Two different things.” He huffed. You smiled. “Okay.” He looked at you. “Get the kids dressed.” He spoke as you looked at him confused. “They are already dressed, but why?” You asked. “Don’t fucking ask questioned! Have them get their shoes on!” He huffed as he got up off you, still in his hero costume. He went to get a quick shower as the kids got their shoes and coats on. You threw on some sweatpants over your shorts and one of Bakugos sweatshirts over his shirt.

He got out of the shower and got dressed, you all got in the car, as Bakugo drove somewhere, there were lights hanging down from each tree for miles, it was beautiful as you smiled at the view as did the kids in the back ‘Woah!’ He then stopped at the center of the lights, as it was bright. “Stay in the car, I’ll get the kids first.” He spoke. As all you could see in the car was light nothing else. He got the kids out of the car. The kids were amazed as they read the sign as they gasped and the daughter nodded approvingly, as the son looked at the sign and back and Bakugo. He nodded. Bakugo smiled as he opened your door, you were confused as you got out and he took you over to the sign and got down on one knee. “Will you marry me, idiot?” He smiled. You cried; you shook your head yes as you cried hard. You prayed one day this would happen.

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 12: Somnophilia with Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1312 Warnings: Somnophelia, Bit of Free Use kink, Oral (M and F receiving), P in V sex, Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it). Kinktober Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

The first thing to reach your foggy brain as consciousness returned to you was the sound of crickets outside.

The second thing was the solid warmth of Eddie pressed to your back, curled around you with an arm wrapped around your waist.

The third thing was the feeling of his hard cock pressed firmly against your ass.

That last one was the thing that made sleep slip away from you the quickest, well, that and the way he was unconsciously rolling his hips into you, a small enough motion that it wouldn’t have woke you on its own, but when coupled with the way he was breathing a little harder than normally right into your ear, and the amount of heat his body was produced, it was shocking you didn’t wake up sooner.

And the most frustrating part? Your body had been reaction in your own slumber, and now you craved him like nothing else.

The initial instinct to wake him up came and went in a second as you recalled a conversation the pair of you had not too long ago.

“You want me to what?” You’d asked incredulously, worried about the consent aspect of what he was asking of you.

“If you wake up in the middle of the night, or if I’m taking a nap or something, I don’t want you to worry about waking me, just take what you need.” Eddie had explained with that earnest look on his face that told you he knew exactly what he was requesting.

“But-I-…” You stumbled over your words and thoughts before sighing. “Are you sure about that? What if you don’t want to have sex and I do it and you wake up and I’ve hurt you? I don’t want to risk your safety like that, Eds…” Your hands twisted around each other anxiously before he took them in his.

“Baby, there’s yet to be a time that I don’t want you and your body.” He grinned for a moment before his expression turned softer. “But if there ever does come a time when I’m just not in it, can you trust me to tell you before I go to sleep?”

You mulled over his words for a handful of moments before nodding slowly. “Okay, if you’re sure…” You said before looking up at him coyly. “I’ll admit I’ve thought about waking you up with a blow job a couple times, but I didn’t want to cross a boundary.”

His eyes rolled back as he groaned. “Oh, please do, Princess…Christ, that’d be the best way to wake up…” Then he’d pulled you into a deep kiss that had led to much more that night.

And now you were considering doing much more than just giving him a blow job to wake up…

Were you sure you wanted to go for it though?

The feeling of his hard cock pressing into you as a low sleepy moan passed his lips answered that question for you. Yes, yes you were gonna go for it.

It took a careful couple of minutes to maneuver Eddie “Koala Bear Cuddles” Munson off you and onto his back, but when you did you took care to not wake him as you slipped under the blankets and down to where his cock was leaving a print in his pajama pants, nearly but not fully hard.

That simply wouldn’t do.

With deft fingers you tugged the waistband of his pants down below his balls and carefully wrapped those same fingers around his length, giving it a couple slow pumps, watching his face to make sure he wouldn’t awaken too soon, you wanted him inside you when he woke.

He let out a sleepy series of low murmurs that were almost words, but his lips didn’t move nearly enough to form the syllables, as his hips twitched like they were going to thrust up but fighting gravity would be too much work for his resting body.

Feeling emboldened by his body’s reaction you leaned in, pressing soft kisses up his shaft till you reached the tip and took him into your mouth, earning an aborted gasp and flexing hand but those eyes remained closed.

You stayed there, slowly bobbing your head and almost losing yourself in the actions, but as you tasted the salt of precum, the ache between your thighs became unbearable, and you pulled away to tug your own sleep short down and off, abandoning them in the floor.

You watched his face as you moved up his body to straddle his waist, the most ambitious action thus far, and other than turning his face to nuzzle into your pillow he didn’t react to the change of position.

With a slow swallow you took his cock in hand once more and lined him up with your sopping pussy, aching from neglect and desperate to be filled, and slowly sank down on him. His muscles tensed at the sensations this time, but his eyes still remained closed, more quiet murmurs and babbles pouring from his lips.

You held still for a handful of moments to watch him, not wanting him to wake up, or cum, just yet, and when you were sure neither of those things would happen, you began to roll your hips.

You had to bite your lip to keep from moaning as the sensations of his cock pressing against your g-spot sent chills down your body, still slightly sleepy from the late hour so everything felt heightened, and when you leaned forward just a bit, so your pelvis pressed against his so your clit was rubbing against him? Oh, it took everything in you not to cry out.

Your fists gripped the sheets on either side of him for stability as you rode him, chasing your pleasure as it slowly built and made your lower belly tighten.

A particularly good brush up his tip against that bundle of nerves inside made you clench around him, and somehow that was the thing that had those dark eyes fluttering open sleepily to land on you and promptly darken even more.

No words were exchanged, but you could tell from the quirk of his lips and the way his breathing sped up he was happy you decided to act on his request. He didn’t move his hips to aid your chase for bliss, but his hands did come up to hold your hips loosely, seemingly more just to feel you than anything else.

You felt your end nearing at the same time you felt his cock twitching to indicate his own, and without the aim to keep him from waking there was no reason to keep the slow pace, so you shifted from rolling your hips, to full on riding on his cock, which successfully ended the near perfect silence of the room as both of you let out raspy gasps and groans of pleasure.

The change of pace was exactly what you needed as it took only a handful more rolls of your hips for the knot in your belly to snap and send you spasming around him, triggering his own release, his grip on your hips tightening as he filled you to the brim.

You remained on top of him, lazily moving your hips against him to ride it out, before lifting off him to fall back to the mattress next to him, where he wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer.

There was a sleepy moment a little later where you used the tissues next to the bed to clean up, but beyond that you didn’t move till you woke once again the next morning, this time to a head of wild curls between your thighs, and a skilled tongue licking the remnants of release from your cunt.

Eddie always did like to return the favor.

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

Take The Edge Off (Dean/Reader)

Title: Take The Edge Off

Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester, Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean needed some backup.

Word Count: 1312

Tags: Shameless Smut, Hunting Partners, Sex After A Hunt, Sex in a Barn - No, not THAT Barn... Don't Worry.

Notes: Just a fun little quickie... literally. Posted on AO3 9-12-21

Those lips have been working me over for a good five minutes. I can’t decide what I’m in love with more in the memory we’re creating. What will I latch onto in the dark when I’m alone, reliving this moment?

Maybe the heat of his body, pressed into mine, pressing me into the wood slats of the barn wall. He’s warm like an outdoor fire in the fall, taking the chill out of the air.

Maybe the insistence of his mouth. There’s pressure there, too, but it’s not overpowering. Goddamn, those lips. I’m not proud to admit he’s caused me to gasp for oxygen during our tonsil hockey. 

He likes to tease and release his lips, leaning back for observation. The gaze is a heartbeat away from commanding I get on my knees. The moonlight, fluid and silky, slips over the curves and edges of his face.

He’s a fucking work of art right now, still and seductive. A half hour ago he was all bully, bulldoze, and brazen, slashing and burning a nest at an abandoned farmhouse.

Then he’s back to attacking my mouth and breathing me in. It only seems to fuel his need. And mine. I’m whimpering.

“This is one helluva way to celebrate a hunt gone right, sweetheart.” His lips trail down my neck. “And here I thought you didn’t like me.”

“Shut up, Winchester.”

He snickers. “How far we going here?”

I cup his growing excitement. “Enough to take the edge off.”

He groans. “You probably can’t handle all that.”

I bite his earlobe. “Try me.”

I’m tugged off the wall. A whooshing sound accompanied the barn door rolling open. I’m pulled by his massive hand clutching my wrist. Jonah’s horses shuffled about in their stables at the disruption and the overhead fluorescent light that blinked on. The earthy hay smell and lack of comfortable accommodations does little to squash how badly I want to rut around with this man.

His lips find mine again. I’m twirled in his arms like a ragdoll. I can hold my own with most other hunters. But, this man, I want him to take the wheel.

He palms my ass and scoops me up. On instinct, I gain purchase and scrabble up so my thighs curl about his waist, ankles lock behind for good measure. He moans into my mouth. I hold onto his shoulders for dear life, though I’ve never felt safer.

His tongue laps the inside of my mouth. I’m propped onto something and his erection rubs against my denim covered heat. His hands are free to roam about for a thorough pat down.

“You were really something back there.” He whispers the compliment, stroking his lips over my forehead. He strips my jacket off and runs a finger down into my cleavage. “Next time Sam’s out of commission, I should see if you’re available for backup.”

“You’ll have to take a ticket and get in line. I’m in pretty high demand.”

He grins and massages my camisole covered breasts. “I bet you are.”

Again, I take stock of the beauty. I want to have plenty of reference material. What will I cling to when my eyes close, all by my lonesome, in need of some pleasure, some respite from the chaos of this life?

Maybe the green glow and sparkle in his eyes as he traces down my body.

Maybe the pink glisten and pout of his lips after his tongue peeks out to wet them.

Maybe the stipples of freckles that cover his skin in random spots. I lock onto one on his neck only to find a host of others peeking out around the collar of his shirt.

He inches my shirt up and over my breasts. There doesn’t seem to be time for a full undressing, especially when he dives right in to suckle on one of my nipples. I arch my back forward, wanting to capture more screenshots. He’s pinging all of my nerve endings.

He straightens up for a few seconds. Oh, there’s something that will stick in my brain. An effortless peel of his jacket over those hilly shoulders and a smoulder in his eyes that might ignite me on the spot.

He whips the jacket onto the surface behind me, which I now realize is Jonah’s work table. He urges me down with his mouth on mine, his palms caressing and cradling my spine. Up again, his plaid layer is off in a flash and he tunnels out of the t-shirt with a forceful tug over his head.

Bulging muscles, tight tendons, and soft flesh in all the right places. So much lovely material.

I burrow the back of my head into the softened leather of his jacket. His smell wraps around me. I catalogue the mix of scents. I’ll never smell the combo of whiskey, gunpowder, and leather again and not think of this man.

I hear the ting of a belt buckle and an unzipping of his fly before he’s scrambling to do the same to my jeans. The cool air prickles my skin in contrast to his hands warming me up.

“Damn. Pretty all over.” He coos, then pulls a moan out of my throat when his tongue sneaks into my folds.

“Fuck.” I mash my lips together, naked and spread eagle on my hunter friend’s work table, listening to this man eat me out. He’s licking and slurping and sucking, rumbling moans against my flesh. I have no shame in expounding with commentary. “Uh, yeah, right there. Keep that up and you might get to the front of the line.”

He chuckles, then nibbles on my clit. “I could do this all night.” Suddenly my knees are much closer to my head, held secure by his hands and forearms, along with his face buried in my pussy.

“Jesus.”

He ravages me for a few more minutes. It’s the eye contact that pushes me over the edge as he flicks my clit with his tongue and fucks me with two fingers. I bite back the scream, then ride the wave of bliss back down. “Hm, bet that took some of the edge off, huh?”

I nod and stare at his mussed up hair from my hands running through it and the red flush on his face. “That’s not all you got for me, is it?”

He shakes his head and pulls me closer by the curve of my hips. “So much more for you sweetheart.”

The movement of his hand fisting his cock garners all my attention. It’s slick and slips between his crooked fingers and firm grip. He squeezes the tip and strokes all the way down to his balls. He’s rock hard and thick.  

Clicked and saved.

With a corny joke about safety first, he rolls on a condom and then coats the latex with my arousal.

The push inside is met with resistance. His eyes go wide. “Fuck.” He whispers. I beg him to give it all to me and he groans in agreement. The air punches out of my lungs with the slam of our bodies fully connected.

He gives it to me, again and again. I’m euphoric with the stretch and friction, plunging deep inside me with every stroke.

I’m lost in the way his face responds. Pursed mouth, then open gasping. Heavy lids, high in the moment. Then, it’s his voice begging. “Come on, baby. Come with me.”

I don’t make it that quick or easy for him. He’s pressed tight against me, mouths connected, when I finally let go and he follows.

His heart thunders against my chest. “That was awesome.” He nuzzles into my neck.

“I agree.” My fingers run across his sweaty shoulder.

“All after hunt celebrations should be this awesome.”

“I got it, Winchester. You like saying awesome.” I sigh.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“I’m available whenever YOU need backup.”

[timeless-fanfic]

A Playful First Kiss

Word Count: 1312

John x Reader

Note: This is the other part to the Andrew/John request from earlier this evening!

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the fields as John and [Y/N] made their way back from a day of errands in the town. The soft rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant sounds of towns people going about their evening routines filled the air. The day had been long, but John had a lightness in his step—one that [Y/N] couldn’t help but notice.

"Did you see the way that one merchant tried to haggle with you?" John chuckled, looking over at her with a grin. "He didn’t stand a chance."

[Y/N] laughed softly, nudging his shoulder with her own. "I’ve learned not to let anyone take advantage of me when it comes to business."

"Clearly," John teased. "I think you had him regretting every coin he asked for by the end of it."

She smiled, but there was a flicker of something deeper in her gaze—an unspoken bond between them that had been growing over time. John had always been kind and thoughtful, but there was a playful side to him that only came out when they were together. The more they spent time like this, the harder it became for [Y/N] to ignore the feelings blooming in her heart.

As they neared the small stream that cut through the fields, John stopped, looking out at the glistening water. "Remember when we first met here?" he asked, his voice softening.

[Y/N] paused, her heart giving a small flutter at the memory. It had been a chance encounter—a moment that had marked the beginning of their friendship. But since then, something deeper had started to grow between them. Something neither of them had quite acknowledged out loud.

"How could I forget?" she replied, her voice filled with warmth.

John gave her a playful smile. "I still think you were following me."

[Y/N] scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please. You wish."

"Well, it worked out in my favor, didn’t it?" John said, his grin widening. "Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met someone who keeps me on my toes."

[Y/N] felt her cheeks flush at the way he was looking at her—his eyes soft, full of affection. She tried to play it off, but there was no denying the growing tension between them. John’s teasing was familiar, but there was something new in the air, something that made her pulse quicken just a little bit more.

"You’re full of yourself today, aren’t you?" she teased back, though her voice was lighter than usual.

John laughed, a sound that never failed to make her smile. He moved closer to the water’s edge, crouching down to pick up a smooth stone. "How about a race?"

She raised an eyebrow. "A race? Across the stream?"

"No," he said with a grin. "Skipping stones."

[Y/N] smirked, folding her arms. "You think you can beat me?"

John gave her a challenging look. "I know I can."

"All right," she said, stepping closer to the water with determination. "You’re on."

They both searched for the perfect stones, examining the shapes and weight before finding what they needed. The friendly competition brought out their playful sides, and soon they were laughing and skipping stones, each one trying to outdo the other.

John’s first stone skipped three times before sinking into the water. "Not bad," he said, giving her a satisfied smile.

[Y/N] narrowed her eyes playfully. "Watch and learn."

With a flick of her wrist, her stone skipped four times, sailing across the surface before disappearing into the water. She turned to John with a triumphant grin. "Beat that."

John stared at her for a moment, pretending to be offended. "Beginner’s luck," he muttered.

[Y/N] laughed, the sound bubbling up easily. She hadn’t felt this carefree in a long time, and it was all because of John. His presence had become something steady in her life, something she looked forward to more than she cared to admit.

John picked up another stone, but before he could throw it, [Y/N] splashed water toward him with her foot, catching him off guard. "Hey!" he exclaimed, dropping the stone as he jumped back.

She laughed again, clearly proud of herself. "You were taking too long."

"Oh, now you’ve done it," John said with a mock-serious tone, stepping toward her.

Before she could react, he bent down and splashed water right back at her, drenching her feet. [Y/N] gasped, half in shock, half in amusement. "John!"

He grinned, mischief written all over his face. "Fair’s fair."

Without thinking, [Y/N] retaliated, splashing him again, and soon they were both laughing uncontrollably as water flew between them. It was childish, it was silly, and yet it felt perfect. In that moment, there was nothing but them and the playful banter that had always defined their relationship.

But as they stood there, breathless from laughter, something shifted. The playful teasing quieted, and John looked at her with an intensity she hadn’t seen before. His eyes softened, his expression turning serious as he took a small step closer to her.

"Hey," he said, his voice gentle now, almost tentative. "You…you know you mean a lot to me, right?"

The shift in tone caught [Y/N] off guard, and her heart began to race for a different reason. She nodded, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment. "I know," she whispered.

John’s gaze lingered on hers, and before either of them could stop it, the space between them closed. He reached out, his hand brushing against hers, and in that small touch, there was something unspoken, something that had been building for weeks, maybe even months.

[Y/N]’s breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she found herself stepping closer, her heart pounding as the distance between them disappeared entirely.

And then, without warning, John leaned in.

It was a soft, tentative kiss at first, as though he was afraid of pushing too far. But when [Y/N] didn’t pull away—when she pressed into the kiss just as much—he deepened it, his hand gently cupping her cheek.

The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them in that moment. It wasn’t the kiss of two people caught in passion; it was the kiss of two people who had built something over time, something grounded in friendship and trust. It was soft, sweet, and everything [Y/N] hadn’t realized she’d been waiting for.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they stood there in the fading light. John’s hand still lingered on her cheek, his thumb gently brushing against her skin.

"Sorry," he whispered, though the smile on his lips suggested he wasn’t sorry at all.

[Y/N] smiled back, her heart still racing. "Don’t be."

John chuckled softly, his breath warm against her skin. "I guess…I just couldn’t help myself."

"I’m glad you didn’t," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a long moment, they just stood there, the weight of the day melting away as they took in what had just happened. There was no need for words—not now. Everything they needed to say had been said in that kiss.

Eventually, John pulled back slightly, his eyes still soft as he looked at her. "You know," he said with a playful smile, "I’m still faster than you."

[Y/N] laughed, shaking her head. "You just had to ruin the moment, didn’t you?"

John grinned, his teasing nature back in full force. "What can I say? I couldn’t let you have all the victories today."

[Y/N] gave him a playful shove, but her smile never wavered. As they turned to walk back toward the village, hand in hand, she couldn’t help but feel that everything had changed between them.

But in the best possible way.

[astra90x]

Flufftober Day 19 - Hot Chocolate

@flufftober

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Pairing: Sebastian x Reader

Word Count: 1312

Reader Pronouns: She/Her

This is one chapter of an entire linear story! It can be read separately but is better when read as a whole. Enjoy!

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Winter has only started a few days ago, and already, a few centimetres of snow have dusted the ground and a bitter chill has taken permanence in the air. The few plants you had remaining from the end of autumn have shrivelled up into nothing, so for the past few days, you’ve been relying on your animals and your frequent visits to the mines to keep your income steady. Luckily, with all the free time you have now that you don’t have crops to tend to, you have much more time to do other things. 

It’s particularly cold one day, with sharp wind and flurries of snow swirling down from the sky, but you’re still out and about, wandering around town instead of shutting yourself away in your farmhouse. You’ve got a scarf and hat on, anyway, so that’s keeping you warm, though you did forget to take gloves with you so you’re trying your hardest to fit your hands within your sleeves, desperate to keep them away from the bite of winter. 

It’s around 2:00, which means that the saloon is open, so you decide to escape there to, at the very least, bring some warmth back into your fingers. A warm air consumes you the second you open the door, which is such a sudden and stark contrast to the cold outside that it almost hurts. Gus hears the door open and greets you with a smile, saying, “(Y/N)! It’s been a while, what can I do for you?” 

“Just trying to get out of the cold for a moment,” you admit, rubbing your hands together and breathing on them to try and heat them up slowly. “Not much business today, it seems.” 

“Snow always keeps people out,” says Gus. “Nobody wants to leave their houses when it’s warmer inside. So it is nice to see a friendly face!”

You smile, but then, feeling bad that you only came in for the heat and not to purchase anything, you ask, “Have anything warm to drink?”

“I could get you some hot chocolate, if you’d like. Perfect for weather like this!” You’ve barely had a chance to nod before Gus has turned away and started preparing your drink. 

A few minutes later, you’ve got a warm to-go cup clutched in your hands, making them feel much, much better. Your nose has cleared up a little too, after it had become so stuffy outside. You pay Gus and bid him farewell, feeling that you shouldn’t be taking advantage of the saloon’s heat any longer. 

Outside, the slow has cleared up a little, and the wind doesn’t feel as sharp, so you figure that maybe you can head down to the beach and visit Elliott. He’s pretty isolated out there, being far away from the town and the snow making it hard to fight through the sandy beach. Not that he minds the isolation, since it gives him an excuse to write, but you still think he might enjoy some company. 

The beach isn’t quite as bad as you expected, though it is still difficult to wade through the three inches of unplowed snow. You’re halfway across, fully intent on heading to Elliott’s cabin, but something in the distance catches your eye: a figure sitting at the end of the pier. 

You wonder who would be crazy enough to want to sit outside by the ocean in this weather, but upon a closer look, you recognize the near-black hair and dark purple sweater. It’s Sebastian, which, to be honest, checks out. If anybody would be on the beach during this weather, it would be him. 

Your mission to visit Elliott is going to have to wait, because now, your curiosity is piqued, and you want to know what Sebastian is doing out in weather like this. You follow the imprint of his footsteps that haven’t quite been snowed over yet and make your way down the pier. 

When you start to get close, Sebastian turns around, looking a little surprised to see you. You suppose that’s fair, it probably isn’t common to see other people on a beach during snowfall, but you have discovered that both you and Sebastian have a tendency to find each other even under strange circumstances. 

“You know it’s snowing, right?” says Sebastian as you reach him. He’s brushed away the snow at the edge of the pier to make a spot for him to sit, and even though he still seems confused as to why you’re there, he uses his hoodie sleeve to swipe away the snow next to him, allowing you to join him. 

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” you reply, taking the seat he’s made for you. It’s pretty damp from the snow-soaked wood, and a shiver immediately runs through you, but the hot chocolate in your hands helps to keep you warm. “What are you doing out here?”

“Well, I like coming down to the beach during bad weather, because there aren’t usually other people here and I like watching the ocean alone,” Sebastian explains. He pauses for a moment, then adds, quieter, “But I don’t mind your company, if you want to stay.” 

“I’d love to.” 

Sebastian doesn’t reply, which you think is reasonable. The ocean is best enjoyed in silence. Watching the waves lazily roll in, lapping gently at the posts of the pier, feeling the spray coat your ankles that are dangling below… it’s tranquil, even as you get increasingly colder. 

You do notice after a few minutes that Sebastian seems to be even colder than you are. His leg, which is ever so slightly touching yours, is shaking, and he keeps having to bring his reddened hands up to his face to breathe warm air onto them. You think of the cup of hot chocolate still held warm in your grip, and figure that he might need it more than you do. 

“Take this, you look freezing,” you say, pushing the cup into Sebastian’s direction. “So long as you don’t mind drinking after me, that is.” He must really be cold because he shakes his head, mumbles, “Thank you,” and takes the cup with little hesitation. After a small sip, he already looks a little better. 

The stark contrast between holding a hot cup to suddenly having your hands exposed to the cold air hurts, and soon, you find that your fingers are tingling. You try to hide this from Sebastian since you don’t want him to worry, but eventually, he notices the way you’re rubbing your hands together and how your breaths have become more shuddered. 

“Share this with me,” he offers, removing one hand from the cup and holding it out to you. You reach out to take it, but instead of removing it from his grip entirely, you both just sit there, one hand each on the cup of hot chocolate. Whenever either of you wants a sip, both hands follow. 

This has solved the problem of one of your hands being cold, but with the other, you’re back to the method of trying to fit it into your sleeve to confine it to the warmth of your coat. As it did earlier, this method fails. 

Suddenly, you feel a slight touch against your hand, and when you look down, you see Sebastian’s fingers ever so slightly brushing against yours. He’s still looking straight ahead at the ocean, refusing to acknowledge you, as he gently moves his hand so that his fingers lace with yours. Immediately, the heat of another person makes your hand feel better, and the blush that has risen to your cheeks helps your face feel warmer too. 

Sebastian doesn’t say anything and neither do you, you just sit in a silent agreement, holding the cup of hot chocolate with one hand each and holding your other hands together, the cold now forgotten. 

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