#honesty. kindness. all gone... with laughter soon to follow. your kind know nothing but h

[caracello]

fuckinf you insignificant buck joke has been making melaugh for like 2 hours straight

[calif0rnia-lovers]

feisty. - bishop losa

request: “I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.“

summary: Bishop shut downs an argument with you bc club business and leaves you pissed all day. When he gets back he takes you to the back of the clubhouse to finish the argument.

a/n: I don’t trust you if you’re not in love with bishop. just saying. smut warning. incase that’s not your thing 

words: 2.7K

Bishop knows you better than anyone, to your annoyance.

One word, that’s all it took to piss you off. 

He hadn’t actually given you a one-word response. In fact, his response was, “I said we’ll handle this shit later, mija.”

His words had come with a grip on your waist. Despite the firmness of his grip, and his voice, Bishop had appeared cool as ice to a waiting Angel and Alvarez. But both men knew your husband well enough to know that Bishop was better at keeping his temper under control than you. 

Any member of the club could recognize the irritation in Bishop’s voice, no matter how level it appeared. 

He’d initially caught your waist to prevent you from walking off. But, to your irritation, he uses his grip to guide your resistant body towards his. Noting the pout you don’t bother to hide, Bishop pauses to place a kiss against your head. 

The kiss lingers against your skin. His arm secures around your waist. In the current position, you’re forced to either wrap your arms around Bishop or let them hang loosely by your side. You opt for the latter. 

Angel fights back the smile spreading across his lips once Bishop’s gaze moves towards him. It was deadly enough. The “don’t say a fucking word” it shared causing Angel to head towards the door.

Realizing the club is beginning to file out, you take a step back. Your arm folds over your chest, Bishop’s eyes meeting yours. He allows the warmth of his palm to find your cheek, his dark eyes passing over the features of your face. The corner of his lips turns up as he notes the furrow of your brow. He allows his thumb to drag along the curve of your chin before tilting your face. When he feels the resistance you exert in response, the Mayan leans forward to allow his lips to press against yours. The action doesn’t spark the response he hopes for. 

"Let me handle this first.”

“Fine. See if I’m still fucking here later, Obispo.” You snap. 

Although Bishop’s response meant that he would talk to you, that wasn’t the point. The entire day he was gone you had one word floating around in your mind. 

Later.

It was the most irritating word in your husband’s vocabulary. Ever since the club’s involvement with the Galindo Cartel, has picked up, it seems that ‘later’ was slipping into Bishop’s vocabulary more often than usual. 

It irritated you the entire day. You left the clubhouse, in an attempt to move away, but the distance did nothing to ease the irritation. Primarily because Bishop was on major damage control, his updates via text more frequent than usual. He even tried calling you. Twice. Leaving a voicemail the second time, suggesting you let him take you out for dinner tonight since “it’s been a while.”

By the time you arrive at the clubhouse, the sun is down. The boys’ laughter and voices are mingling with the music blasting throughout the clubhouse. Your husband is seated across the room. He is leaning against the bar, eyes focused on the pool table where Coco and Angel are participating in a wager. He is listening to EZ. It’s only when the prospect stops talking, his throat clearing, that Bishop realizes you have arrived.  

“Are you free now? Or, should I come back later?”

Ez’s eyes widen, his gaze diverting to the pool game across the room. He retrieves his beer from the bar. Silently excusing himself, he leaves the president to fend for himself. 

Bishop halts the action of lifting the freshly opened beer to his lips. His eyes study yours for a brief moment before trailing down to the arms crossed stiffly over your chest. Down to the left leg bouncing impatiently. Waiting for his response. 

Apparently, nearly six hours apart didn’t give you the chance to cool off. 

He had an inkling that it wasn’t enough time. Not a single text message, or call from you today. That wasn’t your style. 

When you were pissed at Bishop he knew it meant that you would save your conversation for a face to face. He never knew the irritation of being left on read until you came into his life. 

Placing the drink aside, Bishop stands before silently motioning towards the Templo doors. 

Despite your quick, and purposeful steps, Bishop’s composure never falters. He doesn’t bother matching your pace. He strolls casually behind you. He’s never been one to crack under pressure, something that often irritates you when you’re in the midst of an argument. 

Bishop shuts the door behind you, his gaze following your steps carries you around the table. The moment you hear the door click shut, you’re turning on your heels to face him. 

“Don’t you ever tell me that we’re going to handle any of our shit later, you hear me? I know you think that patch means something, to me, but I will rip that right off your chest. When you’re with me, you’re not “el Presidente.” I don’t give two shits about that. Last time I checked, I did not sign up for a husband who tells me when and where we’re going to have a conversation.”

Bishop knows there’s more to come. He rests his hand against the back of his chair as you speak. Pulling it out, he takes a seat.

He listens to every word you spout off. He’s leaned back into the seat. One hand brushing against his beard, the other twirling his lighter across the surface of the table. 

He’s doesn’t interrupt you.

In fact, he doesn’t say a single thing apart from the usual “uh-huh,” and offering up a casual head nod as he concentrates on smoking the cigarette he’s lit. There is no need to stop you. He knows you need to calm down. Also that it’s always easier to just let you get it out. 

He also knows why you’re upset, even if you don’t. Or-even if you didn’t care to admit what the real problem is. In all honesty, you aren’t really sure what sparked the argument in the first place. At this point, you can’t seem to remember what you had wanted to talk to him about earlier this morning. 

In fact, the irritation that you feel is more towards yourself. The inability to suppress the heat that bubbles beneath your skin as he catches your elbow, preventing you from continuing your pacing, is the worse kind of irritation.

Missing your husband’s touch, and attention, sometimes left you moody. Bishop presses the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray, his gaze studying your face as he releases the smoke in his lungs.

Standing, Bishop gently tugs against your body shifting it sideways until it rests between his and the table. In an attempt to put a distance between your bodies, you take a step back. Your left-hand finds the surface of the table pressing against the back of your thighs. Your groan of protest swallows up the rest of your frustrations.

Bishop takes advantage of your silence, a smile toying with the corners of his mouth. His head cocks to the side, his eyes studying your face. 

“Are you done?”

His question causes your mouth to fall open. But the only sound you’re able to produce is a soft scoff of disbelief. 

Releasing your elbow, Bishop allows his touch to snake around the back of your neck pulling your mouth closer to his. His left-hand finds your waist guiding your hips towards his. His smile grows as you instinctively tilt your head back to meet his gaze. 

“Good,” he smiles. “Cause the way I see it, you’ve done a shit ton of talking today, sweetheart. And you haven’t let me say a single thing.”

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” 

A soft shrug rolls off of Bishop’s shoulder, a lazy smile passing over his lips. 

“Nothing.”

Ducking down, Bishop allows his lips to press against yours. His tongue wasting no time to explore the warmth of your mouth. You had meant to stay angry, but your irritation has already nearly evaporated. As quick as it had come. Soon you’re gasping into his mouth, your body welcoming the grip that firmly squeezes your ass. The desire to feel more than his grip tightens your fingers on his waist tugging Bishop’s body between your thighs. He pulls back abruptly, the smile on his face growing as you lean forward in an attempt to bring his lips back to yours.

“Fucking pissed, was it?” He chuckles. Bishop’s tongue passes over his lips the action pulling your gaze to them. “Hmm, querida?”

You force yourself to blink. To meet his dark brown eyes. They are full of nothing but playfulness. His smile is the one you fell in love all those years ago when you first spotted it. Your head shakes softly.

A soft groan rumbles deep in Bishop’s throat as your fingers toy with the hair resting at the nape of his neck. He doesn’t bother protesting as your grip drifts along his scalp, your body moving further until your lips are back on his. 

"Next time,” he speaks softly, but his words are clear. His fingers trace the curve of your jaw. His eyes follow the trail of goosebumps that rise along the surface of your skin. “You wanna talk to me you talk to me. None of that ghosting shit-or whatever the kids call it. You hear me?”

Nodding you mumble an apology, your fingers dragging down his chest towards the front of his jeans. The “sorry” coming out too low for Bishop’s liking. You know it’s not what he wants, but you don’t care. Your mind is way past that. You reach down to feel him, a moan escaping your lips as you gently palm him through his jeans. 

“Mina.” Bishop’s head shakes. His touch finds your wrists, stopping your actions. The soft tutting of his tongue causing your eyes to roll. “You think you can barge in here being feisty, talking all that shit, and still get what you want?"

The soft lazy smile on his lips grows into a cheese-eating grin. 

"I should make you get down on your knees.” His voice comes out low as he speaks, your entire body radiating as he contemplates his own words. His hand drifts along the curve of your neck, his gaze watching as you bite your lip. His thumb traces along the curve of your lip releasing it from your teeth. He smiles as he speaks. “Make you put that filthy mouth of yours to good use. See if you can go as long as you did when you tried to rip me a new one in front of the club.”

As his thumb passes over your lip for a second time, you cave. 

“Do what you think is best,” you whimper, not a trace of hesitation in your tone as his tongue passes over his lips.

A triumphant grin spreads across his lips as Bishop accepts your surrender.

His head cocks to the side. “But, something tells me you’d enjoy that just as much as me, sweetheart.”

"I don't know, Bish," you manage. The words pass breathlessly as Bishop's lips slowly suck against his favorite sweet spot on your collarbone. "Maybe you should test that theory."

"Hmmm, you think so?" he hums as his lips travel down the valley of your breasts, his fingers teasing the button of your shorts so slow your body is trembling from the anticipation of what comes next by the time he's done.

Slipping his hand down the front of your shorts, Bishop smiles as your head falls back your chest arching into his as his thumb gently teases your already slick folds.

"I know what you want me to do, mi amor," he chuckles as your hips jerk with the feeling of his thumb rolling slowly over your clit. His eyes drinking in the ways you begin falling apart beneath his touch. He presses quick circles into your skin. "You want me to bend you over this table and fuck you...And as much as I’d love to do that. I don’t think you should be the one getting what you want right now."

He smiles as your hand lifts to cover your mouth as a jolt spreads throughout your body. Your eyes drift shut as you feebly attempt to control your voice. Your hand manages to muffle the whimpers spilling from your lips for a moment, but Bishop changes that soon enough. His movements quicken with your breaths. They slow, tapering off slowly once he feels you getting close to your release. He does this until your entire body is trembling, your muscles moving on their own accord. Your grip is tight against the edge of the table, your eyes gripped shut tight. 

"I like this much better," he settles as your body spasms beneath the weight of your orgasm the satisfied smile on your lips earning you a soft kiss. "...much better. Don't you think?"

Your grip on his shoulders seems to be the only thing holding you up as you provide no help in the task of removing your shorts and underwear. Guiding the fabric down your thighs, he allows you to kick the fabric free of your ankles.

"Suddenly you wanna be quiet?" He chuckles his lips against your neck. "I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that...Shit, the whole club does the way you were yelling earlier."

Bishop's lips tend to leaving a strategically placed bruise against your neck, his hand guiding your hand into his jeans.

"Maybe this will help?"

You release a soft groan when you feel him in your hand. Your hands provide him the response needed, your fingers hastily fumbling over the task of unbuttoning his pants shoving them down.

Your giggle fills the air as your feet leave the ground. The sound quickly melds into a moan as Bishop wastes no time sliding inside of you. It is a sound that brings a grin to Bishop's lips. It drifts beneath the Templo doors causing Alvarez to motion for Angel to crank the music up a few more notches.

"There it is," he grunts. His grip digging into your skin as your moan drawls out with each inch he pushes inside of you. 

His right-hand drifts to the base of your spine, his left hooking behind your knee. Dragging your body to the edge of the table, he allows you to hook your legs around his waist a "fuck" passing through his teeth as your walls clench around him. The new angle punched the ticket pushing him deeper, digging your fingers into his shoulders.

Bishop buries his face against the warmth of your neck, his mouth latching onto your skin as he allows his hips to fall into a slow and deliberate pace. The music blaring just beyond the Templo doors is loud, but all you can seem to hear are the sounds of your moans mingling with his breathing and the slick sounds of his movements.

"You got something you want to say to me now, sweetheart?" He teases his words gravelly and rasping with every thrust.

His hips shift, the pace picking up in speed, and snapping into you with relentless force. You're not sure you string together a coherent response, babbling something along the lines of “Fuck-Bish. I need you deeper…”

The words are lost beneath the gasps filling the air as Bishop adheres to your request, him hitting your g-spot until your fingers are digging into the skin of his shoulders. He curses deep from his chest and his hips stutter hard as your legs fell limp against him. He tightens his grip around you, his mouth pressing kisses along your skin. He gently massages your skin, his kisses pressing into your skin until your breathing returns to normal.

"You think you can behave for the rest of the night?"

"I don't think I want to," you tease as your fingers drift into his hair. "I might wanna see what it takes for you to bend me over this table."

[kanna-ophelia]

Hard Nut to Crack

31 Days of Ineffables challenge Day 3: Nutcracker

Book version all the way on this one.

Hard Nut to Crack

“I have no idea what  you are afraid of,” Aziraphale said, because it was clear Crowley was afraid. The demon was sitting with conscious elegance, legs crossed at his ankles, not at all in the relaxed slump he usually used in the shop’s backroom. It was irritating, and also endearing, and Aziraphale had long ago stopped trying to untangle the two responses when it came to Crowley.

“I’ll harm you,” Crowley said, in reasonable tones.

“If you think you are capable of doing me serious harm, my dear, I’m afraid you are rather flattering yourself.” He looked Crowley up and down rather pointedly, then down at himself. A skinny being in a fallen state compared to a solidly built angel in a state of grace.

“No need to be insulting about it.” Aziraphale fancied Crowley’s posture relaxed just a little.

“Then what? You’re afraid your saliva is laced with hellfire?”

“I’m more worried yours might be holy water,” Crowley muttered.

“So it’s not really me you’re concerned about after all.”

“Don’t be stupid, and don’t sound so smug.” Crowley ran his hand through the carefully unkempt looking black waves, turning them into actually unkempt black waves sticking in all different directions. There were two locks in the middle sticking up at angles like television antennas.

The scale was definitely leaning towards ‘endearing’

Aziraphale looked at the bowl of nuts on the coffee table, next to the novelty angel nutcracker Crowley had bought him one Christmas. All the easier to crack nuts were gone, and the Brazil nuts, as often happened with nut selections, were left. The centres were tender and delectable, but it was so hard to get to them through the shell without destroying the fragile insides.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked again, patiently.

“I’m venomous, you know.”

“Then don’t bite me.”

Crowley carefully looked everywhere but at him. “Might not be able to help myself.”

“I trust you,” Aziraphale said, patting Crowley’s knee encouragingly. It was bony under the expensive mulberry silk and wool blend trousers, or what would have been expensive trousers if Crowley bothered to actually buy them. The boniness tipped the scales even further towards ‘endearing’, and for some inexplicable reason added a solid weight of ‘arousing’ as well

Whatever Aziraphale had dreamed or feared about Crowley’s response to a whispered “May I kiss you?”–which ran the gamut from gentle murmurs to mocking laughter, from being shoved passionately against a wall to being shoved away and not spoken to for decades–he had not expected to be sitting in the bookshop still discussing it twenty minutes later. Stone cold sober, too. He had clearly underestimated the hard shell the demon had grown around his soft interior.

But Crowley had not said no. He could have said no at any point, but he had very, very noticeably not said no. He was sitting there, closed away in a hard shell, not saying no.

Just not saying yes.

“So how do you think you will harm me?”

“You’re too intelligent for this. You’re an angel, I’m a demon.”

“Yes, yes. We established that back in the Garden of Eden.”

“Consorting with demons. Not exactly encouraged in an angel, is it?”

“We have been consorting together for centuries. If we were going to get cold feet, perhaps before averting the Apocalypse would have been appropriate. I’m at peace with consorting with you. What I want, very much, is to kiss you.”

“Cause I tempted you,” Crowley said under his breath.

Aziraphale blinked. “When?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed? Even once?”

“I’m sorry, dear boy.” He wanted to say that Crowley tempted him just by existing. He wasn’t sure if that would be complimentary or just rub salt into the wound. He decided it was safer to say nothing.

“I am the bloody Serpent of Eden. I tempt. That’s what I do.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your professional pride.”

Crowley said something that sounded like nrrghgurgle.

“Are you worried you will tempt me into carnal sins of the flesh?”

This time it was more like nrrghdsplt. “How can you just sit there, sipping bloody tea, and say things like that?”

“Well, someone has to say them.” Aziraphale hesitated. “Unless you don’t want to me to kiss you.”

“It isn’t–it’s not… Oh, angel, you are hopeless.” Crowley pushed away Aziraphale’s rather nice coffee table with his snakeskin boots, and flounced out like a slighted soprano.

Aziraphale sighed, picking up the Spiller nuts from the bowl. Perhaps it had been a bad idea after all. It might be months before his demon spoke to him again.

Still. Crowley, with mussed up hair and sharp suit, flouncing, was adorable. And he had, very definitely admitted to wanting to be kissed. The sweet dear boy.

Better to leave him for a while. In the meantime, nutcracker in hand, Aziraphale remembered reading that it was much easier to crack Brazil nut shells without cracking the insides if you let them sit for a while in cold water, chilling.

* * *

A fortnight later, a Bible arrived. It was 1599 Geneva Bible in exquisite condition, and Aziraphale’s hands trembled as he unwrapped it, despite the ominously snake themed wrapping paper.

At least, it had been in exquisite condition, until someone had gone through it with a green fluorescent highlighter, marking all the passages about fornication or the Serpent of Eden.

It was almost impressive how much trouble, expense and mortal danger Crowley had put himself through in order to ruin a priceless book to prove a point. Endearing, Aziraphale told himself. Endearingly mischievous snake. The sweet dear boy. Aziraphale’s pampered hands shook with barely restrained holy fury.

A scrap of paper fell out. “See particularly Galatians 5:19.”

Right. That was it. It took every ounce of practice Aziraphale had not to swear.

He started talking too soon, realised it was the answering machine, and took a deep breath.

“Crowley, humans might be less worried about the original tempter if they knew what a ridiculous prude he was.”

There was a click as the receiver was picked up. “I’m not a prude. I’m trying to make you think it over, angel.”

“You are a prude. And how dare you point me to Galatians? Paul was an even worse prude than you are. If he even wrote that letter, which you know as well as I do that he didn’t.”

“Your lot seem okay with humans claiming he did.”

“My lot are beside the point. You don’t quote 5:21 at me when I share my most precious wine stocks with you.”

“No. I’m too busy staring at your thighs and trying to resist the impulse to dig my fingers into them and see what kind of noises you make.”

Fire exploded somewhere in the depths of Aziraphale’s thighs, as if they were responding to being talked about with such naked honesty. “I wish you wouldn’t resist. What kind of demon are you, resisting lust?”

“What kind of angel are you, tempting to lust?”

“It’s not just lust.”

“That’s part of the bloody problem!” There was a silence and Crowley said, more gently, “I don’t think you’ve taken enough time to think about it.”

“I’ve taken six thousand years. How much longer should I consider?”

Crowley choked back a laugh “Okay, okay. Point taken. And me, too.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes and tenderness swept over him. He could answer honesty with honesty. “I want to kiss you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“Oh, Aziraphale.” No barbs on Crowley’s voice now, just a defeated sounding hiss. “That’s not all I want. But what I want most of all is not to harm you, and not to drive you away. I’m not losing you again.”

“You won’t. Just–just kissing. It doesn’t have to be a fuss. We could exchange a kiss in greeting and farewell. Just like–”

“A couple.” Crowley breathed, and his longing was something thick and painful down the phone.

“How much danger can I be in with a kiss?”

“You’d be surprised, angel.” Crowley hesitated. “Look, there’s this place just opened, old fashioned Italian cooking. Surprisingly decent wine list. You’ll like it. I’ll pick you up, and we could–maybe. First.

Aziraphale understood and appreciated it. They would have somewhere to go. No reason to linger and be further tempted. “That sounds lovely.”

“That’s the worst of it. It does.” Crowley hung up.

Aziraphale probably should have been surprised when Crowley turned up awkwardly clutching a bunch of costly red roses.

The demon stepped inside and threw the flowers on a chair like he wasn’t sure how he came to be holding them, followed by his sunglasses, which Aziraphale found interesting. “Well, then.” His yellow eyes were round and terrified.

“Well, then,” Aziraphale repeated, in his kindest voice, despite his dry throat. He realised he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands. He tried placing them on Crowley’s thin shoulders, which seemed to work well, as Crowley stepped closer and, amazingly, put his own hands on Aziraphale’s thick waist.

“Hullo, angel,” he said, and his sharp-toothed grin flashed, and it was suddenly easy, really easy, to close the remaining gap between them and kiss his mouth.

“Just one kiss,” Aziraphale murmured against soft dry lips.

“I suppose we should cancel the dinner reservation,” Aziraphale said.

* * *

Crowley, sprawled over Aziraphale and lazily kissing his shoulder, shrugged with one of his liquid movements. “Never actually bother making them. How’s your back?”

“Sore.”

“Me, too. Unused muscle groups. It will get better with practice. Knees?”

“I should probably do something about the rug burn,” Aziraphale admitted, noting that Crowley was out of practice too, and wondering exactly how long the demon had been, well, not practicing. He certainly seemed to have known what he was doing.

“Poor darling,” Crowley said. He had certainly never used that endearment before. His hand trailed down over Aziraphale’s hip and thigh to find a knee and caress it soothingly. “I should have taken more care. You do have nice knees.”

“So do you.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley’s face up to kiss his lips.

“Just a kiss,” Crowley said bitterly, as their lips parted. “What harm could it do?”

Aziraphale stroked his hair, despite the amount of hair product in it. “Seems to be no harm done except some minor aches and pains.”

“I put you at risk. Again. I’m always putting you at risk.” He put his head down on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t let me.”

“My dearest boy, it’s not a matter of letting. And it was worth it.” He scritched Crowley’s scalp with his fingertips, soothing with deep pressure. “You are worth it. You are always, always worth it.”

“Ssso are you,” Crowley hissed against his shoulder, and Aziraphale marvelled, once again, at the absolute tenderness inside that hard shell.

He was determined to keep his precious demon safe.

[alittleagreste]

To All the Chats I’ve Loved Before

Listen. First off before I get attacked; this really isn’t an AU tbh. It’s much more of a ‘yes secret love letters!” so forgive me for calling it an AU but,,, is what it is. Y’all already know I’ve been here for To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before since before it came out, and I’ve been debating on writing a Miraculous based version for awhile. Well, senior year has started and I’ve been bored in classes so I’ve been writing on and off. Anyway here’s the product.

@berisan here she is :)

Word count: 3,256

Dear Adrien Agreste,

You have gotten to me. I expected nothing less than a spoiled rich little brat and was pretty convinced that was all you were after I saw you putting that chewing gum on my seat. Regardless of your flawless body and gorgeous looks, you seemed a jerk, so you were. But now, as I sit here with your umbrella closed on my desk and the rain pouring down outside, I’ve changed my mind. You’re amazing and wonderful, and everything I could ever want. I’m falling in love with you.

Love, 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Dear Adrien Agreste, 

I don’t know how it’s gotten this far. I am full fledged, head over heels, helplessly in love with you. I’m in too deep, I can’t breathe without thinking of you. You’re in everything, you surround me at all times and I feel like I can’t escape. But do I want to escape? I can’t seem to understand these feelings, which is why I’m writing this down. I love you. I know I do. You’re everything to me. But will I ever be that to you?

Love,

Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Dear Chat,

In a funny sort of way, I’m in love with you. I don’t know why. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re gorgeous, kind, and sometimes I feel like your eyes were literally carved from emerald, but you’re one of the biggest dorks I’ve ever known. Then again, even that is charming in its own way. Everything about you is intensely magnetic. I find myself drawn to you more than I’d like to admit. I have to remind myself that patrol is about making sure Paris is safe, not for admiring you. I honestly believe the reason I’m so enamored with you is due to the fact of us being partners. I put my trust into you, and you do the same for me, and I guess after almost two years of fighting by your side, it was inevitable that I’d fall for you. You care for me, and understand me more than anyone else can, because who else would understand what it’s like being a superhero other than you? You understand, and you care, and you love me. Always. Maybe someday soon we can know. And maybe we’ll find that this is the fairytale end that we could only dream of. I sure do hope so.

Love,

Marinette Dupain-Cheng 🐞

Adrien looked back and forth between the letters. He probably, no, he definitely should not have opened them. But, they fell out of Marinette’s bag, and they were addressed to him. Well, technically one was addressed to Chat Noir, but still him. And they were so tempting, he couldn’t refuse. There were three letters in total. One was in an envelope labeled Chat Noir, and two were placed in one labeled Adrien Agreste.

“Plagg, You know what this means, right?” Adrien looked down into his shirt pocket, unsurprisingly finding that Plagg was still asleep.  

Adrien let out a sigh.  “I can’t believe she’s been right here this whole time.”

“Yo Adrien!” He nearly jumped out of his skin, and shoved the letters into his backpack hurriedly.  Turning around, Adrien saw Nino walking hand-in-hand with Alya. He smiled, awkwardly throwing up a wave in an effort to distract from his frantic reaction. Nino made his way around to the other side of the table and dropped carelessly into one of the chairs. Alya followed him, sitting herself right on Nino’s lap. Adrien rolled his eyes and fell right into conversation with them.

“TIKKI, THEY’RE GONE!” Marinette shrieked, throwing folders and papers out of her backpack. She searched over and over again, but still no luck. 

The letters were gone.

“Maybe you just dropped them somewhere, Marinette? Calm down, take some deep breaths!” 

“Dropped them? Tikki, someone will find them! They’re gonna open them, and read them, and they’re gonna figure out that I’m Ladybug, then they’ll tell Adrien! They’ll tell everyone and I’ll be a laughing stock to all of Paris! My life will be over!”  Marinette dramatically threw herself onto her bed and clutched a pillow close.

“Think rationally, Marinette, maybe they’re still where they fell. How about you go back to school early and look for them?” Marinette nodded and got up. 

As she came back into the school, she instantly started to search for her letters. She checked Mrs. Bustier’s room, the girl’s bathroom, the locker room, and even popped her head into the guy’s bathroom, just in case. They were nowhere to be found.

“Tikki, they’re gone. Who knows where they could be.” Marinette sighed and let her shoulders drop forward. She trudged her way upstairs to the library, where she knew she would find Alya on her lunch break. 

Adrien laughed with Alya as she cracked multiple jokes at Nino’s expense. In the middle of his laughter, he heard the library door creak open. Drawn to the noise, he turned around. Adrien froze as Marinette stepped into the library. He didn’t think about how soon he would be seeing her. This was Ladybug. Strong, brave, wonderful Ladybug. This was the girl he swore that he would love no matter what. This was his partner. This was Marinette. Never back down, stand up to anyone, talented Marinette. And she was in love with him. 

“Hey girl! What’s up?” Alya jumped up from Nino’s lap and made her way to Marinette quickly. Marinette shrugged a bit and hugged Alya. She began to whisper something into her ear, and Alya’s face fell as she pulled Marinette slightly to the side. Adrien couldn’t help but eavesdrop 

“-had two letters in the same envelope, but the envelope with the letters is gone.”

“Seriously? Did you maybe leave it in your room or something? I love you, but you do have some ditzy moments.” an overwhelming sense of guilt washed over Adrien. He really shouldn’t have opened those letters. 

“No Al, I searched my whole room and my backpack. I even looked around the school. No sign of it. Someone must have it. I just hope they throw it away and don’t read the contents.” The guilt increased. 

“Look, someone probably picked it up and tossed it in the trash,” No

“or someone picked it up and read the letters themselves, knew already, and will give it back to you,” No again

“worst-case, you-know-who found it and read them, which I highly doubt.” Actually yes, that’s exactly what happened.

“What’s the matter, Mari-dude?” Nino asked from across the table. Alya turned to him and shook her head. 

“Not important, Nino,” She turned back to Marinette. “Do you want to chill with us until lunch ends?” Marinette nodded slightly, following Alya as she sat down in the chair next to Nino. Marinette sat down to the right of Adrien, and he had to hold his breath. 

“H-h-hey Marinette! How’s up? I mean, what’s up!” HIs hand flew to his mouth as he stumbled over his words. 

Oh god I’m such an idiot!

“Hi Adrien! You’re, I mean, I’m great! Are you great? I mean not that I think you’re bad you look great, I mean, you look fine, better than fine!” Alya and Nino exchanged confused glances and both sighed. 

This was going to be one long break. 

That night, Adrien read Marinette’s letters for the second time. And then a third time. 

“I can’t believe I found her.” Adrien paced back and forth from his desk to his couch.

His mind filtered through every little thing he had done with Ladybug. 

Fighting side by side, always knowing they had each others back. Spending hours sitting on rooftops in the dead of night, learning as much as they could about each other. The first time they had met, her crashing into him and sweeping him off his feet. Literally.

“I don’t even know what to do know that I know.” 

“Gee, have you thought about telling her? I mean now that you know, you could tell her the truth.” Plagg lounged carelessly on the middle of the couch cushion, munching his way through a wedge of camembert. Adrien gaped at him.

“Tell her? Are you kidding! She’d be so mad, and probably embarrassed, too!” Adrien shook his head and sat down in his desk chair. He buried his hands in his hair and slammed his forehead onto the desk surface.

“Look, kid, you’re going to have to tell her eventually. The longer you wait, the more upset she’s likely to be,”  Plagg sat down on Adrien’s head. “Honesty is the best policy, they always say. I, however, always say that cheese is more important!”  Adrien sat up, Plagg moved to his shoulder. 

“You’re right about the first part, Plagg. I guess I can just get it over with and tell her, like ripping off a band-aid.” Adrien folded up the letters and slipped them back into their rightful envelopes. He placed them together and stood up. 

“Plagg, claws out!��� Plagg groaned in frustration as he was pulled 

Marinette sat on her balcony, mindlessly doodling in her sketchbook, when she heard the shuffle of boots landing on the ground. Peeking up from her sketchbook, she saw Chat Noir, which wasn’t too surprising, as he visited her occasionally, but it was still a little confusing. 

“Chat Noir? What are you doing here?” Marinette shut her sketchbook and placed it on the table next to her. Chat followed her movements, shifting awkwardly.

“Uh, I found something of yours that I figured I should return.” Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed as Chat Noir pulled out two envelopes from behind his back. 

Two envelopes with very familiar penmanship. Two envelopes that were now open. 

“I shouldn’t have read them, I’‘m sorry. But I saw my name and I couldn’t help but open them, and uh now I know who you are and I just figured that you deserved to know.” Marinette’s gaze shot back and forth between the letters and Chat’s face. She opened her mouth to yell at him, but she didn’t even get a word out before her vision went black as she dropped to the ground. 

When Marinette came to, the first thing she noticed was that she was sat in her computer chair. Turning to her right, she saw Chat Noir sitting on her chair, letters still in hand. 

“H-hey Marinette glad to see you’re awake. I’m just gonna give you these and-”

“why the hell do you have those!” Marinette almost screamed. Chat flinched, drawing his arm back from where it was extended. 

“I found them? Yeah, they were outside where I was, and I saw my name on one so I picked them up! I opened mine, and then I kinda was curious about Adrien’s so I opened his too!” Chat Noir laughed nervously as he waited for Marinette’s response. 

He was alarmed when she started to laugh. 

“Okay! Great! That’s great! I dropped the stupid letters, and you had to find them, and you had to open them, and now you know I’m Ladybug!” Hearing her actually say it made it more real. It was like a white hot knife to his gut and he was forced to take in a sharp breath. 

“You’re... Ladybug. We should probably talk about that. Now that I, y’know, know.” Marinette glanced up at him and then back to her hands, folded in her lap. 

“Listen, I know you love Adrien, but what you said in the letter, it really feels like we could be real. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, I hope you know that.” Marinette looked up at him. He was staring at her like a lovestruck kitten. 

“Chat, listen. I love you, I really do, but Adrien has had my heart for so much longer. I can’t just give up on him. It’s not fair to him if he never even knows.” Chat sucked in a breath again. Should he just tell her? Was it a bad time to just say ‘I’m right here, tell me?’ He sighed.

“I can’t stray from him without ever telling him the extent of how I feel about him. I would feel like I had betrayed him.”

“So tell him. Tomorrow at school hand him this letter, and walk away, then let him find you and give his answer.” Chat smiled softly at her and rose out of the chair. He handed her the letters and moved toward the stairs up to the window. 

“Chat, what about you? Are you sure?” She stood and moved toward him. 

“Of course, my Lady. Just know I’m always there for you, even when you least expect it.” Chat smiled at her, and Marinette walked to him. 

“Thank you, Chat. I love you.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly. 

A blush quickly danced across his cheeks as he smiled. He signaled his goodbye and slipped out through the window. 

Shouts of joy rang out across the rooftops of Paris that night. 

The next morning, Adrien was anything but calm and collected at school. His knee was constantly bouncing, he kept sighing, and he was almost always glancing toward Marinette. 

“Dude, whats bugging you today?” Nino whispered to him after a particularly long sigh escaped his mouth. Adrien glanced at Nino half-heartedly, snapping out of his daze when he realized that Nino was actually quite concerned. 

“Oh, it’s just my dad again, no big deal.” Adrien shifted his attention back to the front of the class and tried to forget about the girl sitting behind him. 

Said girl was focused on nothing but the back of his head, her head spinning with the same exact thing.

I can’t do this! There is no way I can give him the letters!

Marinette felt a shuffle from her purse and glanced down to see Tikki peering out, giving her a look that all but yelled “you can do it!” Marinette smiled at Tikki and nodded. 

She would do it today, there was no backing out. She absolutely had to. 

She promised herself she would give them to him at lunch time. 

Lunch had come much faster than it really had any right to. The morning had gone by so fast, and Marinette truly wasn’t ready to do what she had to. She watched Adrien from across the courtyard as he sat down on one of the benches placed in the shade. He seemed to be waiting for something. 

“Alright, Tikki, if I do this now, I can throw the letters at him and run home really fast, that way he won’t be able to laugh in my face right away!” Tikki shook her head from inside Marinette’s purse. 

“Just give him the letters and tell him to meet you later with his answer. That way you have time to prepare yourself for the worst!” Marinette smiled for a split second, and then her face fell. She really had to do this. Rising from the bench she had sat herself on, she made her way to where Adrien was. When he saw her approaching, he had to force himself not to get too excited. 

“Hey, Marinette!” He smiled at her and waved. She fumbled.

“Ah, hey! I, um, have to give you something! It’s not important so feel free to just throw it away without looking at it! But um, if you do, please meet me in the park in an hour?” Marinette thrust the envelope towards him, and he carefully pulled it from her hands. 

“Okaycoolthanksseeyoubye!” Marinette took off running towards the main doors to the school, rushing her way outside so she didn’t have to risk saying something stupid. She also really didn’t want to see if he threw away the letters or if he actually read them. 

Oh god. She actually did it. She had given him the letters, where she confessed her feelings for him. Oh GOD!

Marinette made her way to the park and found the bench she and Adrien had occupied during their break from practicing for the Ultimate Mecca Strike III tournament. She sat down and put her head in her hands. 

“Tikki, I’m going to throw up.” Tikki just giggled and nibbled on a macaron inside her purse.

Adrien signed the bottom of his own return letter. 

Originally, he debated going to the park as Chat Noir. Thinking about it realistically, it was irresponsible and dangerous to de-transform in a public park. His only option was to head there as Adrien. So, that’s what he did. 

After re-reading the letters and going over Chat’s in his head, he had a solid reply. 

After about 30 minutes after Marinette had left, Adrien made his way over to the park. He could see Marinette sitting on a bench, looking more than a little stressed, with her knees pulled up to her chin, her face hidden in them.

“Marinette?” She yelped and shot up.

“A-adrien!” She glanced down at the letters gripped in his hand and then back to his face. 

“So you read them! Okay, ha ha! Yeah, that’s great!” Adrien smiled at her slightly, and reached out towards her. 

Marinette reached down, a remorseful look on her face, fully preparing for the rejection she had so often feared. 

Instead, she was greeted by a pink envelope with her name written on the front. 

“Read it.” came Adrien’s voice softly. 

Marinette’s fingers shook as she opened the envelope and pulled the letter out. 

Dear Marinette Dupain-Cheng,

How do I even start? I feel like saying I love you doesn’t nearly capture exactly how much I do. I always have, we both always have. We were just looking at the wrong parts of each other. Thankfully, I’ve come to notice that, and I’ve changed my way of viewing you, and I hope you do too. It may come as a shock to you that I’ve been by your side, loving you constantly, for the last two years. It sure did come as a shock to me. From the moment you crashed into me on that street, I knew this was my destiny. You. I have never felt accepted in my life, until the day Ladybug and Chat Noir began working together. I knew that Ladybug and I would be an unstoppable team, and would you look at us now. It all makes sense that we would fall for each other, in every way that we could. It may not be the best time, and it may not be how you wanted, but today is that someday, and now we know. I want you to know all of me. The me that loves all of you. 

Love, 

Adrien Agreste  🐾

Marinette looked up from the letter, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. 

“Adrien? You’re Chat Noir?” Adrien smiled sheepishly and shrugged. 

“Sorry if it’s disappointing, My Lady.” Marinette broke out into a grin and threw her arms around Adrien’s neck. He linked his arms around her back in an instant and held her close to him. 

“I’m so glad it was you.” She breathed into his neck. Marinette pulled back slightly and looked into the emerald eyes she knew so well. 

Her face fell as she realized something.

“Hold on. You could’ve done all of this last night!” Adrien bit his lip slightly and chuckled. 

“I was scared you would kill me.” Marinette laughed at him and shook her head.

“My silly kitty.”

They both smiled at each other before Adrien leaned in and captured her lips with his own. 

GOSH DANG that honestly was not what I had planned at ALL. Adrien and Marinette really took this story into their own hands and ran with it. It’s also currently way past my bedtime, so if there are some minor mistakes I sincerely apologize, I will fix them after some sleep is had. I really wanted to get this out sooner rather than later because I was making everyone wait oops. 

[porkchop-ao3]

J19Z7 propositioning F!reader for sex? i.e. Rick in a forward attitude he doesn’t usually adopt? NSFW please, thank you :)

I hope this is the sort of thing you were after! :) It’s been a while since I’ve filled a request. So yes, he propositions the reader… with a little encouragement! This one is NSFW and 3.5k words, enjoy!

-

I’d been watching Rick from a distance all evening. Usually I would’ve gone over to him by now, pulling on my usual charm in the hopes he’d pick up a damn signal for a change. But tonight, he was surrounded by friends. Well, I thought they were his friends; but the longer I watched the less I thought that. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, wincing at the words of the other Ricks around him. Occasionally he’d glance over at me, sometimes he’d look offended, sometimes he’d look angry, and sometimes he’d simply look sad.

I watched one Rick nudge another, say something out of the side of his mouth. They erupted into laughter so loud I could hear it from where I was sitting. The Rick I knew’s brow snapped down in anger and he pushed himself up from the table. He said something, but I couldn’t make it out, then he was marching away. Marching towards me.

I stared as he slumped down into the chair opposite me, my eyes wide and my eyebrows raised. He was breathing heavily and his face was a little red. He wasn’t looking at me yet, but I felt the need to say something.

“Howdy.” I said. “Is uhh, is everything cool?” I questioned, holding my drink in my hand. I’d been about to take a sip before he stormed over. Rick shook his head, sighing loudly.

“N-no! Th-those guys, those-” he stopped himself and shook his head. “I’m sorry, (y/n), I don’t mean to be so snappy with you. I-I-I didn’t even ask if it was okay to sit here. I’m so rude.”

“You’re fine, sweetie. Keep your ass on that seat.” I assured him as he started to stand. He sat back down at my command.

“I’m just- I-I-I’m so angry!”

“What did those guys say to you?” I frowned, I’d never seen him so affected before, and I was concerned.

“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. I didn’t push him. “Ca-can I ask you something?” He looked me in the eye and I saw him gulp.

“Of course.” I nodded.

“Do you remember when we- we-” He looked down, his eyes flickering around the table as he searched for his words. “A few weeks ago, you kissed me.” He finally finished.

“I remember.” I told him confidently, even though my heart was suddenly hammering.

“Why did you do that?” He asked. When he looked back at me, his face betrayed sadness, nervousness, a barrage of unpleasant emotions. It was like I’d hurt him with that kiss, and I felt sick.

“I’m sorry. I thought you- maybe I was wrong. Why do you think I did it?” I queried, my expression turning sad.

“I don’t know. B-because you thought it might be funny? I-I-I know I’m not the nicest looking Rick that comes to this bar. Or the most interesting. You must know a lot of the others treat me like I’m s-some sort of idiot.” His words were sharper than I was used to hearing. He was clearly frustrated and unhappy.

“So you think I did it as a joke?” I frowned, honestly a little annoyed that he’d think that of me.

“I… I don’t know.” He sighed, defeated, cradling his head in his hands.

“It wasn’t a joke. I kissed you because I like you.” I shrugged, busying myself by finally drinking from my raised glass. “I thought I’d moved too quickly, that you backed away because you weren’t ready for that. I didn’t realise you were questioning my motives; I wish you’d said something sooner.”

“I wasn’t questioning you, s-so much as I was questioning myself. I don’t know why you’d want anything to do with me, es-especially in that way.”

“Confidence.” I sighed.

“Hmm?” He looked up at me with wide, confused eyes.

“That’s what you need. You need to have more confidence in yourself.”

“How do I go about g-gaining that?” He asked me hopefully, his eyes darting back and forth between my own. I paused for a while, considering my words carefully since he was hanging off every one, it seemed.

“Hmm. Do something that scares you. Not something reckless, that’ll get you killed!” I clarified. “But something that you want to do, but daren’t. Just try it, once. You might be surprised at how liberating it is. And the more you do it the more confidence you’ll gain.” I added, hoping my advice was somewhat helpful.

Rick frowned for a while, considering my words silently. He was looking around at nothing in particular, and I wondered if I’d said something silly and useless. Was that even good advice? I hadn’t a clue. I was by no means an expert on these kinds of things. I was doing all I could, and in all honesty I just wanted to shift his focus from that damn kiss since I was getting the impression he wasn’t all that thrilled about it.

“Will you c-come home with me, tonight?” He suddenly asked. He said it with such conviction it surprised me. I narrowed my eyes in consideration, not exactly knowing what to make of it.

“What like a… sleepover?” I questioned. His cheeks went pink, and suddenly he deflated a little, avoiding eye contact.

“Well… I su-suppose you could look at it that way. If that’s what you’d be comfortable with. In actual fact I was th-thinking perhaps something… something a little more…” He was going redder and redder to the point I was getting worried. “I was wondering if you’d like to, p-p-possibly – and you don’t need to say yes! – maybe… ha-have…”

“Sex?” I finished for him, my heart thoroughly pounding in my chest at this point. He didn’t answer verbally; with his eyes firmly planted on the table he gave his head a jerky nod. I was stunned. I sat staring at him for a long time with my mouth hanging open.

“No. N-n-no, you’re right. H-how terrible of me to even think of asking such a disrespectful, disgusting thing, I-I-I-I-”

I reached across the table, touching his hand to shut him up.

“Yes.”

“Huh?” He panted, looking at me in a flash.

“Yes. Let’s go.” I grinned, finishing my drink and squeezing his hand. He stared at me in awe as I rose to my feet, tugging him to urge him to do the same.

“Are you j-joking?” He gasped.

“Do you see me laughing?” I tilted my head at him.

“Oh fu- oh gosh. Oh. O-okay. L-l-let me just-” He stammered, ripping his hand out of my grasp so he could fumble in his lab coat for his portal gun. I smiled at his reaction, and he eventually opened up a portal. He waved me through with an extremely shaky hand, and followed me through to what I soon realised was his home. We were in his living room in the blink of an eye, surrounded by eclectic artwork, antique furniture, and knick-knacks of all shapes, sizes and origin. I took a moment to familiarise myself with my new surroundings, then turned to him.

He was stood staring at me, looking all nervous and fidgety. When I made eye contact with him he opened his mouth, but he didn’t say anything. I chewed on my lip for a while, realising very quickly that I’d be the one making the moves tonight; regardless of this being his proposition in the first place.

“Just allow me to get one thing clear.” I started, noting another jerky nod of his head. “You want to do this, right? It’s okay to be nervous, I just don’t want to initiate this if you only said it as a spur of the moment thing and don’t actually want to sleep with me.”

His foot twitched, like he was going to take a step towards me, but didn’t.

“I wa-want to. I think about you a-a lot and I-I-I have thought about this, too. I want to.” He explained, finally taking that step closer, and another, and another until he reached me.

I made the first move, of course, touching his chin and bringing him in for a kiss. He didn’t flinch away like he did those few weeks ago, he reciprocated. The way he kissed was different than I expected, he was a lot slower, more skilled with his tongue; not that I expected him to be a bad kisser! Just, not as good as this. He had me parting my lips for him with a gentle sweep of his tongue along my bottom lip. He tilted his head and his hands gingerly rested on my hips; I encouraged his touch by pressing my body forwards against his and wrapping my arms around him. He made a little noise, his body noticeably relaxing as he grew more comfortable with the kiss.

My hands automatically slid down his spine, coming to rest on his backside; prompting another noise. He was letting out these half restrained little moans, just the first note and he’d cut it short. Without thinking about it I slowly brought one of my hands around his body, sneaking it between us; I gave him enough time to stop me if he didn’t want it. He let me put my hand between his legs, cupping the bulge there and rubbing as I felt him grow under my palm.

He broke the kiss then, stopping to look at me with hazy eyes and a curve to his brow that signalled both pleasure and concern. I smiled at him, hoping it’d alleviate some of his worry, then moved my fingertips to where I could feel the head of his erection, now straining against his pants. I stroked there specifically and his resulting groan was immediate and loud; his hips jolting forwards into my touch as well. I gasped softly, his reaction sending a spark of pleasure right to my core and spurring me on.

“Where do you want me?” I asked him. His eyes widened and he looked around awkwardly.

“Oh, jus-just regular, in- inside your…” he trailed off. I caught his meaning and tried my very best not to laugh at the miscommunication.

“Mind out the gutter, sweetie. Your bedroom? Or here?” I grinned at him. My attempt at light-heartedness didn’t translate, because he was clearly mortified.

“Oh no! H-how embarrassing, I didn’t mean to- oh gosh, I’m sorry! I was-wasn’t thinking straight!”

“I know what you were thinking about. You don’t have to explain.” I assured him, going onto my tip-toes briefly to kiss his jaw. He frowned at himself, red in the face from more than just arousal.

“B-bedroom. If- if that’s okay.” He answered meekly.

“Lead the way, handsome.”

-

We were kissing on his bed; I’d undone his pants and I now had my hand on him, skin to skin. I was straddling one of his legs, subtly rubbing up against it since he was yet to touch me. His hands were balled into fists by his head, resting on the bed, it was as if he were chained there. I didn’t think he was doing it to be selfish; I thought he probably didn’t know what to do. I sat up letting go of him so I could lift my dress up and over my head; he gasped as my body was revealed to him, covered only by my bra and panties.

“Woah. L-look at you.” He whispered. I licked my lips and pulled on the bottom of his shirt, untucking it completely from his already open pants, and lifting it. He helped me remove it, and shivered when I ran my hand down his chest over his nipple. I hummed appreciatively, then pushed myself backwards, sliding off of the bed and pulling on his pants.

He seemed hesitant at first, making a sound of protest, but he seemed to remember what we were doing and lifted his hips for me. His boxers came down with them, leaving him totally naked. It was the first time I’d gotten a good look at what he was packing; he’d felt big in my hand and seeing it confirmed this. He was the biggest I’d had, and there was a moment of nervousness at the possibility of it hurting.

I shook the thought away, looking up from his cock to his eyes. I held onto his ankles and pulled him closer to the edge of the bed and he took the hint; scooting to sit on the edge. Suddenly, my tits were at eye level for him.

“Why don’t you take my panties off, baby?” I purred, coming forward to stand between his legs. He glanced down at the final article of clothing, though it seemed to take effort to tear his eyes away from my chest. When his hands met the waistband of my underwear, I said; “With your teeth.”

“Huh?” He balked, his eyes flashing up to my face and practically shooting out of his skull.

“I’m kidding.” I teased. I had a habit of making stupid jokes in the bedroom; maybe it was my nerves manifesting. Luckily, my jokes only seemed to help calm him, and he chuckled in relief.

“Ohh, y-y-you had me there.” He breathed, shaking his head. I ran my fingers through his hair, brushing his bangs back out of his face, noting how handsome he looked like that. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my underwear and he slowly pulled them down. The seat of my panties stuck to me from my wetness, and when they pulled away I shuddered at the subtle stimulation it gave me. “Gosh, y-your underwear is a little-” he cut himself off, looking up at me apologetically.

“Wet?” I questioned, and after a moment he nodded. “I know. It’s cause you’ve turned me on. A lot. Touch me.” I whispered, letting my underwear drop to the floor as I took his hand and guided it between my legs. He watched with a slack jaw as his hand met my slit, and I took my index and middle finger and used them to press his own two fingers to my clit. I guided them back and forth through my wetness, and he let loose a quiet, throaty moan at this. I used his fingers to roll my clit in circles, sighing at the sensations, pleased that he continued when I let go of his hand, watching me with lidded eyes and a blush on his face.

I crawled back on top of him and we edged back on the bed, so I was back to straddling his thighs. As he touched me I reached for him, stroking his cock in time with the way he was rubbing me. Leaning over him, our lips inches apart, we shared breathy moans with each other, quiet and private. In a daring move he slid his fingers backwards, slipping his middle digit inside me. I gasped and rocked my hips forward, forcing him deeper. He started panting, eyes darting down to my pussy to watch as he thrust in and out of me. My palm was growing sticky with precum, even more so at the insertion of a second finger.

“Oh gosh you f-feel so- I can’t wait to-” He stammered, eyes flashing back up to mine.

I made my mind up there and then. Taking his wrist in my hand I removed him from me, then scooted forwards on my knees so I was above his cock. I held eye contact with him as I lowered down, sliding down his generous length slowly, feeling that hot ache as he stretched me further than I ever had been, sighing in pleasure as I did. Rick hunched in the chest a little, choking on a gasp, his fingers scrunching in the bed sheets.

“Ohh ohh! Th-that’s am-amazing. P-please, keep- stay there.” He whined once my butt met his lap and he was fully seated inside me. I could feel him nudging my cervix, he’d filled me up so completely and perfectly I could do nothing but sit there and enjoy the sensation, the sense of wholeness. “S-so hot an-and tight!” He added, opening his eyes to look at me.

“You like that?” I asked, pulsing my muscles around him. Every squeeze ached so deliciously.

“Yes!” He cried, sitting up on his elbows. His chest rose and fell quickly and I smoothed my hands over his chest, up and down in a bid to calm him. At this, he tentatively moved his hands to my thighs, holding onto me there instead of the bedsheets.

“You want me to move?” I queried, licking my lips and resisting to move anyway before he had the chance to answer. Rick took a breath then nodded briskly.

“Y-yeah. Please.” He breathed. As soon as I did he was moaning loudly, rolling his head back and staring at the ceiling. I rode him with a decent pace, not too fast but I hardly took things slowly either; it was irresistible. The thick head of his cock stroked so perfectly against my sweet spot and his pubic bone nudged my clit with every down stroke. It felt incredible. Unbelievably satisfying.

I leaned forward, resting on his chest for support as I bounced my ass behind me on his cock. It didn’t take me long to work up a rhythm and soon Rick was thrusting too, meeting my hips in perfect timing as if all his nerves and hesitation flew out the window. He was doing whatever felt good, and there was something so pleasing about that; so I egged him on.

“Ohh god. That’s it. Pound me like that, Rick.” I cried, looking down at him to see he’d grown incredibly enthralled by my breasts as they bounced with my movements. He grunted, sliding his hands up to my waist, wrapping those long arms around me and helping guide me back and forth. Where’d that timid guy disappear to? I laughed through my pleasure, loving every minute of it.

He was so much different to how I expected him to be, now that he’d gotten into it. I leaned down to kiss him, slowing my pace down for just a moment as I allowed my tongue to roam is mouth, meeting his own and playing for a while before withdrawing, but staying near.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks.” I admitted to him freely.

“M-me too.” He instantly replied. I was surprised, flattered and deeply aroused all at the same time. “I tried not to b-but it just kept coming into m-m-my head. Ahh!” He hissed, thrusting roughly up into me like he couldn’t control it.

“Shit.” I sighed, shifting so I could get more leverage, letting him have it. Seeing the way he writhed and panted below me, moaning and sighing and scrunching his eyes up, his fingertips pressing hard into my sides. Oh god. It was an absolute treat, so much better than any of my fantasies. I just wanted to see him come apart, to lose all control to the pleasure and fill me up. I just wanted to push him over the edge, and fast.

Rick suddenly yelled my name, going rigid. “I’m s-so close! I’m gon-gonna- oh God!”

“Cum. Do it for me baby, I want you to cum.” I purred, clenching my pussy around him as I slammed my hips down over and over.

“Ohh fuck, oh yes!” He gasped, his spine arching and his head pressing back into the mattress, messing up his hair. He froze for a second then howled in release and I could feel his thick cock throbbing inside me, spurting deep and filling me just how I’d wanted. I practically growled with the intense satisfaction I felt, finally hearing the sounds he made and seeing the faces he pulled; everything. I hadn’t realised until then just how much I’d really wanted it.

I slowed down gradually, bringing him down bit by bit as all of his muscles unclenched and he relaxed back onto the bed. His breathing was loud and laboured when I eventually stopped completely. He opened his eyes to look at me, going still.

“That was in-intense. I’m s-sorry, I didn’t give you much warning!” He prattled straight away and I rolled my eyes at him, bending over to kiss him. He let me, keeping quiet while I did, but as soon as I broke away he spoke again. “Did you have an… an orgasm?” He asked shyly.

“All the orgasms in the world can’t compare to what I just witnessed.” I grinned at him.

“You didn’t. Oh gosh, I’m sorry. Let me- can I do s-something else?” He said in a panic, sitting up on his elbows again only to be pushed back down by me.

“No, baby. I’m more than satisfied.” I told him truthfully, then slowly eased up off of him. I groaned as his cock slipped out of me, feeling so hot and wet, followed by his ejaculate. “But you can help me shower.” I suggested cheekily.

“Y-yes. Absolutely!” He nodded eagerly.

Before we went, I made sure to shower him in more kisses, enjoying every moment while I could. After all, I had no idea if I’d be lucky enough for this to happen ever again. Though I sure hoped I would be.

[moonnfairie]

Proximity

Real Life!AU - Chapter 5

Author: softmochijm

Pairing: Reader x Jungkook (Main), Reader x Yoongi

Warnings: Talk of alcohol use

Word Count: 1,893

A/N: My, it’s been a while, but I feel as if I’ve gotten my groove back, and I’m excited for this series to continue xx

The internal battle of emotions you felt between Jungkook and Yoongi appear to seize after your night at the lake with Yoongi, and you finally let your guard down due to just how fast your heart would beat in Yoongi’s presence.

Day after day, you found yourself smiling at your phone over the lengthy conversations you’d share with him over conspiracy theories and games that he played with Jin. Every game night the older boys had at your house, you’d happily run downstairs to join knowing Yoongi would be there, ready to have you sit in between his legs, arms wrapped around you holding the controller on your lap. And at this rate, everyone was well aware of your newfound “relationship,” even Taehyung and Jimin, who welcomed Yoongi into your occasional hangouts.

You found yourself so unquestionably happy. Every shared moment with Yoongi made you feel warm all over, every touch making you only crave more. You’ve never held someone as much as you did Yoongi, and you could finally see why Andrea was just so horrifically touchy with Jungkook; you just never wanted to let him go.

This honeymoon phase went on for days, and you felt your soul floating on cloud nine. Even during hangouts with Taehyung and Jimin, you’d find yourself smiling and getting lost in your thoughts, Tae having to punch your arm just to bring you back to earth.

Tonight was Tae’s birthday, and you were all heading to the local jazz bar. Jimin briefly mentioned that Jungkook would most likely be there, which made you jerk your head over to him in slight surprise, but you simply nudged it off, knowing you’d be spending the entire evening with Yoongi anyway while Tae got wistfully but happily drunk to his favorite music.

The venue was dimly lit with mood lights surrounding the perimeter of the room, low chatter of the crowd and the swinging tunes from the performers on the main stage filled your ears. You see Tae and Jimin walking straight to the bar while you walk over to reserve a small booth to the side.

You felt confident tonight, owning a black cocktail dress with a small slit on your thigh, dark red heels, and a small pendant necklace that glistened even in the low light, given to you by Yoongi. You looked around, nodding your head to the beat and watching the crowd completely invested in the performance. You enjoyed being in this kind of scene, especially with people you love, and from the corner of your eye you see your best friends waddling back, double fisting glasses of who knows what.

“Alright friends, here’s to another year of me!” Taehyung giddily declares, raising his glass. Jimin happily reciprocates, and you roll your eyes but giggle, clinking your glasses together and sipping happily through the small straw.

After a few more songs, you see a couple figures heading for your table. Jin’s face is the first to shine under the light, followed by Yoongi, your heart starting to pound just at the sight of his handsome face, and shortly after appears Jungkook, your breath then hitching in your throat. You internally curse at yourself, why are you still getting riled up just looking at him.

Yoongi nudges your thigh signaling you to scoot over for him and Jin, Jungkook taking the spot across the table to sit next to Tae, who’s lost in his own world chugging down glass after glass and swinging his body to the beat.

For some odd reason, Yoongi and Jungkook are really hitting it off, casually talking among each other like they’ve been buddies for years, a ping of jealousy finding it’s way to your heart. You even try to grab Yoongi’s attention by placing your hand on his thigh, but to no avail, as he’s cackling over some dumb pun that Jungkook has just made. At this, you sternly blurt “excuse me” to head over to the bar to grab something that would further distract you.

Three shots get you over the edge, cheeks flushed with warmth and red blush. You don’t really know how much time passes, other than the occasional switch between performers on stage. As you’re about to wave down the bartender again, a hand reaches out and pulls your arm down, quickly striking you with panic until you realize it’s Jungkook, lazily smiling back at you.

“Y/N you’re as red as a tomato, you should probably take it easy now.”

You’re about to open your mouth, but it slowly falls closed as you remember that this is the first time in weeks that you’ve spoken to Jungkook at all. Your head is filled with wondering questions, like how has he been? Where has he been? And what happened with him when Tae and Jimin came over. At this point, you’re too far in to really put a filter on the words you say to him, especially with the lingering confusion you still feel towards him.

“Really, who are you to tell me what to do” you say, forcing a chuckle. “I’m fine, Jungkook, but thanks for... caring.”

You turn your head back to the stage, but Jungkook grabs the stool in front of you, causing you to look at him directly.

“You know I do. I always have, Y/N.”

You ignore him, sipping and nodding to the fast tempo that the bassist is plucking away at.

“I broke up with Andrea.”

You almost spit out your drink at that statement, the music ironically slowing down as well, as you glare at Jungkook with wide eyes.

“Shit, I’m sorry Gguk... A-are you okay?”

He brazenly laughs at your clear dismay, knocking back a shot and slamming it on the counter in front of him, and you flinch at the sound.

“Yeah, of course I’m okay!” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand loosely, showing evident signs that he’s feeling the alcohol as well. “Things went far downhill after that night at the diner, which, I’m sorry again for.” You look at him with sympathetic eyes, slightly regretting not contacting him in all this time as he’s probably been feeling rather horrible about how things played out.

“No need to apologize, Gguk. That happened, and it’s over... but I’m really sorry to hear that happened with her...”

To your confusion, he simply throws his head back in aggressive laughter, causing you to furrow your brows and frown.

“I’m not! She cheated on me with some random dude I don’t even know!”

A pregnant pause befalls the both of you, as you turn towards the empty glass that you’re playing with in your hands. You can’t afford another simple apology, considering Jungkook seems to already be losing it, so you both sit there and listen to the now slow jazz in the background, a silence that Jungkook understands and appreciates.

The night goes on, more groups of people piling at the bar in between your small talk. Jungkook, noticing your uncomfortable shifting, stands and extends his hand to you, smiling as he says “how about we talk somewhere more quiet?” You look over to the table pondering if this was a good idea, but in that distance between you, you can hear Jin’s laughter loud and clear, and see that the boys are just fine even without you there. At this, you grab his hand as he leads you outside.

It’s rather cold outside, as you can see hot breaths escape your mouth when you speak, but the alcohol in your system made you just right. You must’ve looked cold, however, as Jungkook took off his jacket and placed it over your cardigan, and you meekly smile back at him, almost exposing your blush if it weren’t already for your asian glow.

A block down is a little park encased in trees with a trail that you and Jungkook decide to walk down. The fact that you could talk to him at such a vulnerable state, without the annoying Andrea linked on his arm, made you feel more relaxed to be this close to him again. Maybe you really were too stubborn to give him a chance to explain himself. The poor boy really has gone through a lot.

“I h-hope I’m not prying when I ask this, but...”

“Y/N. You are... but I will let it slide just this once.”

You giggle for a little, then turn to look at him. He’s smiling, giving you that doe-eyed look that always made your stomach flip millions of times over.

“I know it must be long gone by now... and I’m only asking because I’m curious and I really just want to know... and I mean, if it’s too much, you don’t have to answer but I just-”

“Man, do you talk a lot” he jokingly interrupts, and you punch his arm.

“When did you know that you liked me? And... when did you stop? Why?”

“You sure ask a lot too,” turning to look ahead, and you follow the action. “To be honest, I knew the moment I met you that you were someone special.”

This makes you abruptly stop in your tracks, mouth parted slightly at Jungkook’s shocking truth. He continues speaking, a little further from you and still facing ahead.

“I... haven’t stopped liking you, Y/N.”

For some reason, you feel hot tears starting to gather in your eyes, and Jungkook turns around, frowning at your evident expression.

“I was intrigued by her at one point, in all honesty. She knew her way with words, how to convince you that she really liked you for you, but when we finally put a title on it, it was like the chase was over and she stopped talking in the way that I ended up” he lifts his fingers to show air quotes “falling for her.”

“If it was anyone playing with toys,” he continues, words heavy, “It was her. After the night at the diner, I saw her glued to her phone. She even had to pick up a call as soon as we were about to sleep, and on the other end was some dude’s voice. Couldn’t tell who but I didn’t care. Knew I had to end it after that.”

He reaches closer to you now, wiping at the tears that found their way down your cheeks.

“She’s nothing like you, Y/N.” He pauses.

“She isn’t you.”

Sniffling, you look up to him, his eyes somewhat glossy, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

“Hell no she isn’t me” you say in between your hiccuped cries, and you both manage to laugh a little.

Without you even noticing, your hands have found their way on his chest, Jungkook’s hands holding your arms in a light embrace.

Why, you’re asking yourself, do you feel fireworks exploding in your heart. Why do you see galaxies in his deep, dark brown eyes. Why, as he’s reaching up to cup your face, do you feel excited, swooning under his touch.

Why do you not resist, as he leans in and plants an anticipated, tender and passionately wanting kiss onto your lips.

Why does the world suddenly stop, when Jungkook, in a whisper, says

“Y/N... I think I love you.”

And why why why

do you hear someone’s angry voice call out to you from behind right after.

A/N: Oh goodness.. just what has Jungkook done to OC?

Chapter 6