#like I swear they secreted a sweet liquid

[anantaru]

"I LOVE YOU!" - "STOP SAYING THAT!" — LYNEY

sometimes lyney forgets he's not supposed to fall in love with you. wc. 800

・✶ ｡ warnings — friends with benefits, saying i love you during sex, fem! reader

"does, fuck— does that feel good?" lyney swallows a deep groan before grinding his hips into you, bending you in half as he pounds into you harder, resulting in you wincing out his name through a slacked jaw as your body overflows with excitement.

you smile a little before wrapping your arms around him, "yeah, d-don't stop," and you're beyond impressed by how easy it was for lyney to target your sweet spots like he's crafted them himself— as if he was the only reason they were there in the first place.

he angles his hips specifically to rut against them, and makes sure to alternate between fucking you hard and fast but also deep and slow to tempt you on purpose, spurring you on.

truthfully, his ability was undeniably breathtaking.

his face burns in your neck when he traps your skin in between his lips to suckle a hickey on the flesh, making sure he's always languidly thrusting into your heat— and you just feel so fucking good when you batter him with your cunt like that, squeeze down on his cock to make him whine out your name in candid mewls, so dearly that he's close to finishing inside of you.

"t-that's what i wanna hear," he grunts through rolled hips, his erection achingly hard and throbbing and ready to blow his loud into you that he's turning desperate, desperate to cum— lyney just wants this so badly right now, fuck, he needs you, okay? yearns to finally push deep into your walls and fuck you through his warm cum.

never have you been fucked just like that before— and it was thrilling, but it urges lyney to give you even more.

you always take him so well, bounce that pretty cunt back and forth his cock until you're making him thrust into you faster, better, desperately when you grip him tightly in your walls.

"archons— i love you," he whines out loudly, "just —love how you feel, just fucking love you s'much, baby,"

hold on, "w-wait, what?" you clumsily talk through a moan, but it's more of a yelp if you're being honest— and lyney seems to suddenly realize that he has just ruined this entire night for the both of you.

"what did you say?!" his noises hitch in his throat as you softly push him off your body, "lyney! answer me,"

your eyes were open in straight disbelief and terror— it's as if someone just told you the most horrifying horror-story in existence, although you were still engulfed in liquid bliss and fought the quivers of your body, you sought out his eyes and met his unfocused, slightly embarrassed gaze, his cock now completely stilled inside of you.

"I-i didn't say anything!" he panics, then whines as he slowly slides inch by inch out of your warmth, his shaft still hard and leaking, "ugh, i mean," he adds nervously and averts his gaze, "i-it's not that i love you! i mean, hm, you're great, like, only a fool wouldn't love you, right?"

in this moment in time, lyney would honestly claim anything in order for you to please just forget the last two minutes of this night.

"hey, i mean, i love this!" he swiftly points to your lower regions,

"doing this, with you! hey! don't give me that silly expression! i swear, i didn't mean you as in loving you!"

"you're not supposed to say that, lyney," you exhaustingly slant back into the disheveled pillows, "it turns things more complicated and we won't be able to continue this,"

you feel his chest rumble with an awkward chuckle as he nervously drops next to you, reaching over for a blanket to cover your naked bodies.

"yeah.." you're both still exhausted, breathing loudly from the sensitivity and the pent up stimulation forcibly exiting your bodies, the built up bubble in your stomach slowly dissolving into clear nothingness.

"this will have to be a secret," lyney continues, "between us,"

"lets pretend this never happened," you retort back almost immediately, in fact, there was nothing in this world that would make you forget this, but you could at least pretend its never happened.

after this, you're not really sure on how you're supposed to just forget this occurred and if he meant it with his whole heart— neither does lyney know how to continue living after embarrassing himself in front of the person he fell in love with, much more pretend he doesn't harbor those feelings for you in the first place while fucking your brains out next time.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[zeezelweazel]

Your latest Leah fic was unreal! Pls can we get more Leah smut with that dynamic it was insane :)

Leah Williamson| Comfy|

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I'm glad you requested this cuz I'm in love with that dynamic as well

('I swear if you say comfy one more time')

I want to write for wally but I have no ideas pls help

TW: strap on use, mommy kink, praise kink, soft sex

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England's weather is normally very cloudy and cold but it gets worse in winter. You and Leah both hate the unbearable cold but at least it's an excuse to wear your cozy clothes and cuddle on the couch by the fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate.

Normally these days are for relaxation and soft conversations in between sweet kisses but today you have something different planned. These past few days Leah has been very tense and stressed with her new found injury. You're certain your plans for tonight will take her mind of everything.

Leah's favourite wine is swirling in her glass while you pour her a hefty amount. The blonde smiles and thanks you after you finish and place the bottle on the coffee table. She's still visibly nervous, findling with the glass in her hands and simply staring into the red liquid like it holds the secrets of the universe.

You sit in silence for a while, the wood in the fireplace crackles and chirps and you begin to feel the warmth from the wine travel down to your navel. When you abandon you glass on the table and scoot closer, Leah gets the message and does the same. The both of you are sat on the couch facing eachother and you lean in closer. Your hands frame her face softly and Leah smiles at you and you can't resist bringing her in for a kiss. Your lips pushed against eachother slowly at first but the kiss quickly turned passionate. Leah probed your bottom lip with her tongue and you opened your mouth to let her in. With your tongues sliding against eachother, your hands started wandering as well. Your hands went to Leah's waist while the blonde threaded her fingers through your soft hair.

You pulled back from the kiss momentarily and before Leah could react you pulled her hoodie down slightly so you can attach your lips to your neck. Leah sighed and kept her hands on your hair while you started bitting and sucking her neck. After kissing the slowly forming marks on her neck you pulled back and smirked at Leah's expression. Her pupils were blown and her lips were swollen from all the kisses. The defender was panting and you could tell she was close to begging already.

You sat back on the couch and grabbed Leah's hand to urge her to sit on your lap. Your lips connected feverishly once more and Leah slid down your lap to bring her face closer to yours but a sharp gasp left her lips when she felt something hard press against her thigh. Whe she pulled back and was met with a proud smirk from you her pussy throbbed at the confirmation. She looked down at the bulge in your pants that she hasn't previously noticed and her breath caught in her throat.

You pated Leah's hip and the blonde got off your lap immediately. She stood in front of you and you took your pants off. Leah bit her lip in anticipation, her eyes never leaving the place between your thighs as you slowly took your underwear off to reveal your favourite blue strap. It wasn't your biggest one but it was thick and the edges were rigged and it stuffed Leah full. Her cunt clenched around nothing at the sight and her breathing got heavy. You grinned at her, like a wolf to a lamp.

"Take your clothes off princess."

Leah scrambles to do as you said, almost tumbling down at how hurriedly she tried to take off her pants. Now standing in front of you completely bare Leah resisted the urge to shiver. Not because of the cold, the still lit fireplace was doing wanders on the heat inside your house, but because of your eyes full of lust taking in every detail of her body. Your eyes moved from her neck down to her perky breasts, to her chiseled abbs to the wet shin in her inner thighs.

Your face stretched into a smile as you took the fake cock in your fist and started to slowly pump it. The strap hit your clit slightly and you released a breathy sigh at the contact. Your eyes fell shut for a moment, getting lost in the scenarios of what's to come until you heard Leah whimper. You opened your eyes slowly to see Leah with her hand pressing on her lower stomach, desperate to relieve some of the boiling heat that has gathered in her core.

"Come here baby girl. Sit." Leah didn't need to be told twice. She climbed on your lap and your hands found their place on her hips. Leah hoovered over the strap, not really knowing if she's allowed to sink down on it. Her thighs shook and she looked at you with desperation clear on her wide blue eyes. You chuckled and lined up the strap, teasing her slit with the head. Leah bit back a whimper and her thighs spread wider to give you all the access. You bumped her clit with your cock before moving down to her clenching hole. When the head finally slipped in her tight pussy Leah moaned and threw her head back.

Your hands danced across her skin until they reached her pebbled nipples. You took them between your fingers and twisted until Leah yelped and squirmed. You pushed your hips forward once to push your cock deeper into her and Leah took the invitation and sunk down on the cock until she was in your arms with you nestled deep inside of her. You gave her a few seconds to breathe and adjust to the stretch of the thick strap while your fingers continued toying with her tits.

Leah pulled herself up and moved down again, slowly at first, while your hips stayed glued to the couch. Leah was moaning freely, the loud sounds harmonising with the slapping of skin. She braced herself on your shoulders as she bounced on your lap faster with her breasts following her movements in a way that made you salivate.

"That's it beautiful, you take mommy's cock so well." Leah whined and clenched around the silicone strap. A few more minutes had Leah panting in extortion. You know Leah can't come just from this, the angle was slightly awkward with your cock not hitting deep enough and Leah was already growing tired. Your hands returned to Leah's waist and squeezed. The blonde halted her movements and thread her fingers through her hair. Her skin was hot and sweaty and her eyes wild. You thought she's never looked prettier.

You moved your hips lower and Leah whined at the sudden movement but soon the wind was knocked out of her when you started thrusting up, your cock hitting all the right spots while Leah was moaning pornographically.

"That's it pretty girl, let mommy take care of you." Leah whined and nodded as you kept pounding into her. Her hands desperately fisted your hoodie and Leah buried her head in the nape of your neck. You turned your head and pressed a sweet kiss on her hair. Leah was bouncing on your lap from the power of your thrusts and you slithered one hand in between your bodies to thumb at her clit. You pinched the sensitive nub and Leah yelled and her thighs started to shake.

"Mommy please! I-I need to come please!" You smiled and brought your lips together for a passionate kiss. Leah tried to kiss you back but her mouth was dropped open, busy releasing the filthiest of sounds, so she couldn't really reciprocate the kiss. You angled your hips just right and Leah nearly screamed when you hit her sweet spot repeatedly. With her hands still gripping the fabric of your hoodie and her thighs shaking Leah came silently with the slaps of your sweaty skin and the crackling of the wood being the only sounds in the living room.

You kept up the pace of your thrusts but moved your hand away from her clit, not wanting Leah to be overstimulated. You rubbed her back and whispered sweet nothings in her ear while the blonde came down from her high. Leah kissed the side of your neck softly while you kept thrusting into her. The captain whimpered when you started going faster, her pussy already aching and sensitive from her previous orgasm. You shushed her softly while threading your fingers through silky blonde locks.

"You can give mommy one more can't you, my good girl?" Leah nodded once more and brought your lips together for a kiss while you slowed down, opting for long and powerful thrusts rather than fast and sloppy ones. It seemed to have worked because it was starting to get impossible for Leah to keep kissing you with all the moans and whimpers that left her mouth.

You moved both of your hands down to her ass and squeezed the soft flesh before using it as leverage to move Leah's tired body up and down the length of your strap. Leah was putty in your hands, splayed out on top of you and barely moving while you fucked the wind out of her lungs. With every thrust Leah felt like she was coming closer to the inevitable edge as her walls clenched rhythmically around your cock. Leah didn't need to beg or ask for permission this time, she knew she could just let go and let the wave of lust consume her. That's exactly what she did when your hips pressed flush against her and you held her there, with your cock stuffed deep inside of her.

Leah opened her eyes again after taking a few moments to calm her breathing and set her brain back on track to find you smiling down at her.

"You did so well, pretty girl." Leah blushed at the soft words and hid her head on your chest shyly.

"Thank you, I needed that.

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[mehidktbh]

Between You And Me (P.t 1)

Pairing: Simon Riley x Nurse!Fem!Reader

Summary: You're in a secret relationship with Ghost, no one knows but with that comes problems. When one guy starts to get the hint that you're single. He finds out the only way to get you all by himself is to slowly hide in the shadows waiting for the perfect time.

Warning: War, unwanted/nonconsensual , secret relationship, touching, ANGST, grinding, reader is groped, TW SH (SEXUAL HARASSMENT), swearing, injuries and bloody wounds

A/N: 11 Days since my last post. Sorry for my in and out absents, idk why I'm not as committed as I use to be. But here's the Simon Riley fic everyone voted on!! (Part 2) Taglist: @lauraliisa, @mxtokko, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @ghostshotwife420, @snortangeldust, @thychuvaluswife, @quesowakanda, @goodsoup03, @cielobgers, @andy-unu-03, @sididakra-jo, @nocti1s, @luvfromkat, @lily-ilo, @iwmtfm, @elentiyaiswriting, @berryjuicyy, @crazyfandomist, @aqxz, @yaaamadaa-blog, @itsquinoa, @tomhollandisabae, @wivwer, @old-red-owl, theverycelestialgemini, leopardfang15, @iwmtfm

The smell of foul metal floated around the room, and the suddenly rich, thick blood decorated your hands. The metal dish dinged sharply as you dropped the final piece of glass down. Finally, straightening your back upwards to now look out the closed wound. Which was a horrific scene before. Only know it's been wiped down with alcohol and sown up with a neat row of stitches.

"All done." You happily said, relieved that you could now open a window when this guy left. The blood smell was getting to you. So gradually and carefully you began picking up your equipment, putting all the soaked bloody cotton balls on the metal dish. But you suddenly stoped when the sensation of a cold hand came out to grab you.

"Sorry, sweets. Just need a bit of help getting to the door" He smiled 'innocently' but you nodded in return. Ignoring and swallowing the sudden gut rench feeling you got as you let him grab hold of your whole arm. His fingers traced up and down your skin, as he gripped on tight, you kept silent as much as you wanted to scream and you quickly lead him to the door.

The sound of the door creaking open echoed through the barracks, mixing in with the sound of talking from down the hallway. You quickly smiled before beginning to turn away, only to be grabbed again. Fucking hell- "Thanks toots for the patch up" Smiling you said nothing in return, only trying to avert your gaze from his lustful eyes. His mouth practically breathed down your neck as you slowly pulled out of his reach. Finally shutting the door.

And you thought that was it... but you were wrong.

It started out as little there to their moments where he'd pop out of nowhere right as you were alone. When you were on break, signing off papers in your office, watching TV or simply going to the bathroom. You'd leave the room to smell his thick foul and unpleasant cologne reeking into your nose, his slipped-back hair as he lazily leaned on the wall. Complimenting you from your skin to your body.

And not to mention that one time he 'accidentally' touched your butt...

♡ ♡ ♡

You quietly hummed out a quiet tune, your eyes watching in awe every time as the coffee machine worked like magic. The particularly strong and good coffee slipped out from the machine nozzle, filling up the two cups only reserved for you and Simon.

His cup was white and plain, nothing that would tell anyone else that it could be their cup only the white insides of the cup were stained with the brown liquid. The stains that told everyone whoever was drinking from this cup liked it strong and black, no sugar or milk.

Only your cup was always lined up against the cabinet, side to side they weren't separated. Even in the dishwasher, they never threatened to separate. The seemingly bland white cup was always next to the paw-printed ceramic mug, dots of dog paws was something that showed everyone it was yours.

"For me?" You turned around suddenly, expecting to see Ghost already waiting to grab his cup even though you told him you'd get it for him. Only it was the same guy who'd been bugging you since day one. "No, it's for Ghost." You stood your ground, turning around as you showed no interest in him being there.

The sound of his footsteps crept closer behind you, the deliberately terrifying thumps of his boots made every hair on your body stand up. He reached higher to swing open the mug cabinet above you, purposely grinding the front of his pants against your butt.

The sudden movement shook you to your core as you quickly pulled away from the machine. Stopping the waterfall of coffee pouring earlier as you quickly took both mugs in your hands. Ignoring the burning sensation and forgetting to put your milk and sugar in.

♡ ♡ ♡

Ghost caught onto fast to your sudden nervousness fast. When you returned with his coffee in a rush, nearly tripping over as you made it to his desk. He was surprised to see how red beating your hands were, the imprint of your mistake lead him to wonder what made you run so fast. Though the whole time you said nothing, lying about how you forgot you had a meeting soon. Excusing yourself before leaving early too, Ghost stood there with a mug that only grew cold.

Not only that but after dark, he'd secretly sneak into your office to get close and hold hands under the only light you flicked on as he whispered sweet praises into your ear. Before you were constantly complaining about happening to leave early (it was midnight) as Simon ushered you out.

Now you hold onto his warm figure, his huge arms cage you into his embrace harder as you struggle to say goodbye. By the end of the night, he'd be the one to escort you back to your room, all the way until he made sure you were locked and safe. No matter how many times his rough accent softly demanded you tell him what was bothering you, you didn't say anything.

♡ ♡ ♡

"I'll be fine" You shush him, your finger coming up to sew his lips shut as he quietly chuckled. He stood tall and relaxed, the only time today when he can truly let go of his tense muscles. Your soft touch brings him back to the present as you press a quick final goodnight kiss to his cheek. Giggling when the heat instantly rose to his face, his lovesick eyes never wanted to leave you but sadly he watched you turn away.

You seemed to quicken your paste when you shut the door, as much as you reassured Simon you were okay you weren't. Feeling like you were being watched it was past midnight and the barracks fell deathly silent. Not a whisper of someone talking or the sound of someone snoring on the couch as an ad played. Only your footsteps quickened down the hall, twisting around every corner the sound of swift heavy boots followed quickly behind.

[tiza0925]

Hi!...umm could you pls do a NSFW tanjiro x reader where reader starts to get jealous of kanao bcos kanao has started to gain feeling for tanjiro and has been trying to get close with him but she doesn't know that reader and tanjiro are secretly dating so reader ends up distancing herself from everyone and when tanjiro confronts reader they end up in a mating press+overstimulation and a bit breeding kink 😳

(Pls don't get me wrong I luv Kanao but I haven't seen any fanfictions like this and I'm sorry if this request is too much)😅

Take care 😊

only you | 18+

Warnings/Tags: nsfw, explicit sexual content, jealous!reader, afab/female reader, unprotected sex, mating press, creampie, breeding kink, reassurance, Tanjiro loves you so much, multiple orgasms (implied), overstimulation, soft!dom Tanjiro, ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS ARE AGED UP AND OVER 18 YEARS-OLD

Pairing: Tanjiro Kamado x Female Reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You feel two thick fingers shove inside your mouth, the fingertips hooking onto your bottom teeth to pull your head forward to look into sinful red eyes. 

You blink blearily, tears blur your vision, and you choke with a sob as drool drips down the corners of your mouth. 

“Already crying?” You hear Tanjiro murmur, voice sweet and low, a huge contrast to the brutal thrusts he’s been giving you—fucking your sore cunt with the intent to make you pass out. “Too much for you now, hm?”

You suck in a sharp breath, moaning around his fingers, and your eyes roll back when Tanjiro leans in to have his head near your ear—causing his cock to sink in deeper that you swear you feel him in your throat. 

“I’m sorry, love, but you’ll have to hold on for a little longer,” His voice rumbles against you, rolling through your ear as his lips graze the shell of your ear. “I still need to cum inside you, okay?” 

If you weren’t currently getting fucked to the point where you can feel Tanjiro’s dick in your soul and your mind wasn’t a puddle of liquid pleasure—

You would probably laugh at yourself for being in the situation you’re in at the very moment. 

Because none of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for Kanao.

And now you’re torn between still wanting to be mad at Kanao and also wanting to give her a hug of gratitude for getting Tanjiro like this. 

Not because Kanao directly told Tanjiro to fuck you like he’s some madman. 

Instead, funnily enough, it was Kanao who was the one that wanted Tanjiro for herself. 

It was obvious with the way you’d watch her laugh at his jokes that weren’t even that funny sometimes. 

Or the way you’ve noticed Kanao would leave light touches on Tanjiro’s hand and arm—brief but still giving the message that she wants more from him—whenever you were all out on the field training. 

You’ve seen the way Kanao looked at Tanjiro. 

And honestly—you don’t blame her. 

Tanjiro is an attractive guy. 

Not only in his face but his demeanor, how polite he is. Smart, funny, and god—have you seen him without a shirt? 

So you get why Kanao acts that way—even more recently, now, as Tanjiro started to train more and grew a little taller. 

It’s why you’re dating him, in the first place. 

But nobody knows that. 

You two didn’t want to get in trouble—dating within the Corps wasn’t allowed. 

But you guys couldn’t help it. 

He liked you, and you didn’t want to lose out on the chance of having him to yourself. 

The only issue with keeping your relationship with Tanjiro a secret—

Is that people, like Kanao, will try to get with him instead. 

Because in their eyes—he’s single. 

In Kanao’s eyes—Tanjiro is available for her. 

And at first—you didn’t care. 

You both knew what would happen once you kept this relationship a secret. 

People will still flirt—it happened to you many times by other guys. 

But you were always polite to let them down—made up some lie about wanting to focus on becoming a better slayer and all. 

And Tanjiro said the same thing to Kanao once before—and she listened. 

Admired him from far away. 

And you were okay with that. 

Until—

Until Kanao started to get handsy. Gradually.  

Until her small crush developed into something more for Tanjiro—and she wasn’t so subtle about it anymore. 

You were okay with it until Kanao and Tanjiro got a little closer—and you had to sit back with your teeth pinching your tongue, watching and doing nothing about it. 

And over time—it got to you. 

It’s not that you don’t trust Tanjiro—because this man has done nothing but respect and show you immense trust and security in your relationship. 

And he never flirted with Kanao back. 

But that doesn’t mean you trust Kanao. 

Not when Tanjiro is, in general, a really nice guy. 

Nice to the point where Kanao can mistake it for flirting. 

And if you couldn’t say anything about it—because what can you say without blowing your guys’ secret? 

‘Hey, stop flirting with Tanjiro because—‘ 

Because what? You like him?

That he’s yours? 

It was futile and you hated it. 

…Hence, why you started to distance yourself. 

From a few others at first. 

But then it started to turn into you making an excuse to not talk to Tanjiro. 

That distancing turned into you avoiding him as much as you can. 

Because it hurt. 

You can’t flirt with Tanjiro in public as Kanao can 

And honestly—you genuinely thought you would get away with this whole ‘distancing thing'. 

It even got to the point where you thought that you and Tanjiro's relationship could possibly be over. 

And wouldn’t that be amazing for Kanao, huh? 

But then Tanjiro confronted you about it one night—and that…

That was something. 

The door to your dorm closes behind him as you both walk in, and it’s deadly silent. 

The tension is so thick that you can cut a knife through it, but you don’t say anything.

And for a moment—it remains silent. 

Just waiting for something to drop, to set off the bomb that’s been ticking for a while, now. 

And—

And then you hear Tanjiro let out a tired sigh, and you turn to see him rub a hand over his face as he looks at you, confused. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, now?” 

Your eyes widen, and surprise flashes through your pupils as you swallow hard, playing dumb as you avert your gaze. “There’s nothing wrong.” 

He lets out a derisive snort, sarcasm lacing his words “Really?” 

“Yes, really,” Your voice comes out flat, and you walk towards your bed while taking off your shirt. “You should go, I’m tired.” 

A lie. 

One that Tanjiro immediately detects as he shakes his head and follows you. “Not until we talk this out first.” 

That’s the thing that also made you fall for him—is how big he is on communication. 

It’s something you generally love about him—except for this very moment. 

Because talking about how stupidly jealous you are will get you emotional—you can already feel the damn lump beginning to form in your throat. 

You try to ignore him as you set up the bed, sniffling. “There’s nothing to talk about.” 

Tanjiro huffs out a breath, his voice soft and pleading. “Don’t lie to me.”

You purse your lips, your teeth clenching. “You should go rest.” 

You feel him closer behind you, his body heat near yours, and his voice is so confused. “Was it something I said?” 

The breath you let out is shaky, feeling guilty for making him think he’s at fault here. 

Because he’s not but emotions are a bitch and it’s starting to get to you. 

You swallow thickly. “No.” 

Another step closer to you. 

“Was it something someone else said?” 

Your voice is a little strained. “…No.” 

“Did someone do something? Did I do something—?”

And at this point—something kind of just…snaps. 

“I don’t know,” You don’t mean to have any bite in your words, but you’re just so frustrated and overwhelmed and feel so stupid for the way you’re acting that it all just hits you at once as you sniffle, your voice cracking. “Why don’t you go ask your little girlfriend, Kanao?”

And then—

Everything turns silent. 

You can hear the soft ringing in your ears right after you say that. 

You can feel your heart thumping rapidly with regret flushing your cheeks and your stomach drops. 

Fuck. 

You didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

You feel a rough hand wrap around your wrist, and the next thing you know—

You’re being spun around—and your vision is instantly met with big, red eyes. 

And your breath hitches in your throat soon after when you take in Tanjiro’s expression because—

He doesn’t look mad at you. 

He looks…worried. 

Almost regretful in a way. 

“That’s what this is all about?” 

He asks, sounding incredulous and confused, looking at you patiently for you to answer. 

God—you feel so irrational now—

“I…” You start, not sure what to say with the way he’s looking at you like that, and you gulp. “…It’s not—”

“Oh, love,” Tanjiro sighs. Low and heavy—full with understanding once he takes a good look at you—and his eyebrows crinkle with focus as he brings you closer to him—tucking your head under his chin as he wraps his arms, full of muscles and warmth, around you. “You have no reason to be jealous of her, you know.” 

Your lower lip wobbles. “I know—”

“But,” He stops you, and you let out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner.” 

Fuck.

You close your eyes, feeling guilty for even making him have to say that because—

“It’s not your fault,” You mutter, but Tanjiro simply shakes his head, sounding firm. 

 “No, I should’ve made stricter boundaries with Kanao—which I will do when I see her.” 

“I don’t want to tell you what to do with your friends, though.” 

Tanjiro frowns and tips his chin down to give your forehead an achingly gentle kiss, mumbling against your head. “How you feel is more important to me.”

Well, that’s just not fair. 

You both stay like that for a bit—simply hugging and being in the other’s arms. 

It’s silent again but this time it’s comfortable. 

But then at some point—

“Hey,” Reluctantly, you lift your head to look at him, and Tanjiro’s eyes soften as he gives your lips a soft, gentle kiss. “You’re the only one I want, you know.” 

You whimper, feeling a small shiver crawl up your spine. 

He guides your mouth open with his, his warm tongue sliding against your lower lip. “You’re the only one I want to kiss.” 

His hands on you grow firmer, almost possessive, as he pulls you closer to him—and you let out a small moan. 

He kisses you so deeply that you feel it in your bones, and he starts to walk you towards the bed—the bend of your knees hitting the edge, causing your back to fall and land on the soft cushion beneath. 

And he follows, holding you close to him, his mouth traveling to your ear and giving it a small nip, his voice rough against you, “You’re the only one I want to be inside of, too.” 

God. 

You feel yourself throb and you throw your arms around his neck as your legs wrap around him—kissing him back just as deeply, moaning into his mouth because this is the Tanjiro that you want. 

This is what you need from him right now. 

…Which is how, moments later, you end up the way you are right now. 

Cheeks red and shiny from tears. 

Your head foggy and ready to explode. 

Body so exhausted and numb from the way he’s been fucking you—holding you down with your legs thrown over his shoulders, nearly bending you in half as he presses your legs against your chest—

And he’s fucking you through your third orgasm, all while you cry around his fingers, clinging onto whatever your hands can find as Tanjiro pushes down on you—groaning at just how pretty you look. 

“Only made for me, love,” Tanjiro breathes heavily, kissing one of your tears, before looking back at you with a small grin. “You take me so well.”

You whine, and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth—your saliva shiny on his fingers—and he uses the same hand to wrap around your neck, putting one of your most vulnerable parts into his hand. 

“And I’m gonna make sure I get you all full with my cum.” 

That’s another thing about him. 

It’s the way he is in bed. 

He can be gentle but—

But there’s just this edge to him that makes your head spin and turn into mush. 

It’s the way he talks with words that sound sweet with the tone he uses, even if they’re filthy—as if each word has been dipped in sin-filled chocolate. 

It’s the way he fucks you with so much love and yet still manages to make you feel boneless and fucked stupid like some slut. 

And that little, spiteful, part of you grins—knowing that no one else gets to experience this side of him except you. 

Not even Kanao. 

He fucks you deep and slow, your fluids gushing out and getting both of you so wet that you can hear the sweet squelch of your pussy getting abused by his cock. 

Your clit is overstimulated from his body rubbing against it with every thrust—that your muscles tense and heat is constantly sparking in your lower belly.

He goes until he starts talking about breeding you—filling your sweet cunt with his cum and keeping it there until your belly is full with his babies and—

“God, love—”

And then you hear him groan, and Tanjiro kisses you as soon as his orgasm pushes through him—and he’s pumping his cum inside your pulsing cunt, filling you to the brim. 

It’s messy. 

You’re both so goddamn messy and out of breath by the time he cools down. 

But you don’t care. 

Even if your pussy is sore and wet and you know you’ll need a shower right after this—

And even if his breathing is heavy—hell, he feels heavy on top of you—

You like it. 

It’s welcoming. 

He kisses you again, this time slow and indulgent, and you feel yourself go numb at his words that get murmured right against you, “I’m all yours, okay?” 

End. 

Masterpost

[lasperlasdelaconcha]

Curiosity [Spot/Reader]

tags: nsfw, stalking, masturbation (male), sub!spot, cliffhanger (sorry)

a/n: I saw that there was few posts about Spot from Spiderman: Across the Spider-Verse, so I decided to write a short thing on him. Let me know if you like it!

wc: 1247

Spot was just jumping through different verses, experimenting with his new abilities when he spotted you. 

Hiding behind a tree, he looked at you typing on your computer at the coffee shop while also sipping on coffee. 

He didn’t know why, but he just had to be with you. But he was too nervous to actually approach you. So he would follow you around and watch you in secret. 

It was easy. He was able to create vortexes and peek a head in, watching your every move. It was addicting and sweet at first, but poor, sweet Spot wanted more. 

While running away from Spiderman, one of his vortexes led him to your apartment. It was sudden and embarrassing how he had you in mind all of the time. Luckily, you weren’t home. 

He was going to leave, he swears, but the prospect of beginning extremely close to something that was yours while you weren’t around was more exciting. 

He began to search around your home. He looked through your kitchen to see what kind of foods you liked, but it was mostly empty. Ah, that’s why you weren’t here working. You went to the grocery store. 

He looked around your living room, touching your shelves and looking through all your books and little trinkets. It upset him a bit to see you had a Spiderman action figure on display.

He sulked a little, his mood dropping a bit as he made his way to your bathroom, looking and smelling your shampoos and lotions. That brightened his mood a bit, but he was still upset. 

What was so good about Spiderman anyways?

He slowly made his way towards your bedroom, the one place he desired to go from the beginning, but left it ‘til last. 

He looked around, going through the drawers of your dresser. He smiled as he looked at your clothes, remembering them all from his ‘watches’. Then he made it to the last drawer and blushed. It was full of your bras and panties and he closed it suddenly, completely flustered.

He admired you. He wasn’t a pervert!

He tried to distract himself as he looked through your other things. You had another bookshelf in your room and he saw more of the books that he would see you read in your free time. 

He then made his way towards your vanity and scanned it slightly, not really wanting to touch it because you were very specific on how you left you. If you didn’t notice his rummaging around your apartment, you would notice it here. 

He walked fast past your dresser, still remembering that drawer. 

There was only one spot left and that was your closet. He had seen it a few times before. It was mostly just hoodies and dresses, shoe boxes stacked on the shelf above. The closet was pretty empty since you moved your materials for work to the closet in the living room. He would have looked at it, but he just had seen it so much that he had the layout memorized. 

He hummed as he looked to the side inside your closet and blushed, shutting the closet door abruptly. He slowly opened it back up, his face burning as he looked at the laundry bin. 

Right at the top of the bin was a pair of black panties. It wasn’t hidden nor covered by other clothes. It looked like you just left it there for him. 

He shivered as he reached for it, his hands shaking slightly as he held it up to his face. He looked over it, turning and flipping it until he got to the part that made contact with your core. It was wet. 

He groaned, bringing up to his face and sniffing it. It was supposed to be impossible. He didn’t have a face and he didn’t have a nose, but he was still able to smell it. 

Your sweet scent. 

He groaned as his hips buckled, your aroma filling his senses. His legs began to tremble as he continued to smell it, the scent of your liquids driving him crazier.

He pulled the panties away from his face, his eyes dazed as he looked down. His cock was hard, a bulge present.

He slowly brought a hand down to his cock and his other hand brought your panties up, sniffing as he began to rub himself. A whimper left him at the stimulation. 

Without a care, he slowly made his way towards your bed, laying back on it as he pulled his cock out, pre-cum dribbling down the shaft as it hit his belly. 

He groaned, his hand beginning to stroke his member slowly as he shoved your panties into his face, never wanting to part with your scent. 

His cock began to ooze more with pre-cum, the wet noises of him jerking off filling the empty apartment. 

Whimpers began to leave him as his hand began to speed up, his legs beginning to shake as he began to shake his head side to side, the stimulation too much, but he couldn’t stop. 

Your scent was driving him crazy… He just had to taste it. He put your panties towards where his mouth should have been and licked the way he had grown to know. It wasn’t a normal way, but it worked and now he was able to taste you. 

He moaned as he tasted your panties, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he continued to touch himself, his back arching as he came. 

His cum spurted everywhere, covering his belly and your sheets. But he couldn’t stop.

You were flooding his senses, both in taste and smell. His whimpers became louder and his body trembled from the pain of overstimulation, but his hand never stopped, stroking up and down. 

Soon, his other senses were also flooding with you… His hearing, his vision… his senses of touch… 

He snapped out of his daze, his eyes going wide as he was staring at you, straddling him with a hand on top of his hand... the very one he was using to stroke himself. He stopped and you giggled. 

“Aw, you are so cute when you space out… It happens a lot more than you think, Spotty.” You giggled, removing his hand from his big fat cock. He whimpered because even though he was embarrassed that you found him like this, he was still hard. 

You then wrapped your hand around his cock, replacing his and you began to stroke him. “You don’t think I’m done with you, do you? No… You decided to break into my house and play with yourself while sniffing my panties like a dog. Did you like it? My scent?” You gushed, stroking him faster. 

He whimpered. His back arching as he began to push you away with his hands, not really using much strength. It was too much, you actually being here and watching. “S-Stop! Too… Too much! I’m-I’m going to cum… cum,” he whimpered, his head shaking as he "tried" his best to push you away. 

You frowned, swatting his hands away. “No! I am going to play with you. It’s what you get for playing with yourself without me…” You smiled, kissing his forehead as he moaned, his hands grasping the sheets tightly. “And you are going to take all of it. Okay?” 

He looked up, his eyes glossy as he nodded, a dumbstruck look on his face. “Okay… Use me like your toy! Please play with me!” He whimpered. 

[shotmrmiller]

It's cold, isn't it?

a secret santa gift fic event from @bunnyreaper for @perfinn! hope i didn't disappoint. un-beta'd sorry for any mistakes

18+ mdni smut :)

i tried to keep it under 1.5k i swear

It’s a week before Christmas, and you thank the stars that Johnny came home to you this year. Holidays are a rarity— given his dedication to his job. So whenever he is here, you treasure every single moment, like now, as you watch him tip his head back and eat the whipped cream that’s supposed to garnish your hot cocoa.

“Johnny.”

Startling at the sound of your voice, he spins to face you with a radiant smile.

“Good mornin’, hen!”

He opens his thick arms wide, beckoning you into a hug and you walk up and wrap yours around his trim waist— placing your chin on his chest as you look up at him. With half-lidded eyes and a lazy smile, you respond.

“Morning, love. Surely that wasn’t the whipped cream I said not to eat that I just saw you guzzle down?”

He grimaces.

“Och, never mind that. Listen, bonnie. Ye wanna go skatin’ on ice? The rink is open today.” 

You eagerly agree with a nod. How Johnny remembered your love for ice skating— even though you mentioned it in passing— makes your heart flutter. 

‘A’right then, go change.”

Johnny kisses your forehead before sending you off to get changed with a roguish smile and a playful swat to your bottom.

Cheeky Scot. 

“And stop eating my whipped cream!”, giggling to yourself when you hear the fridge door slam closed.

—

Once dressed, you walk to the living room and notice Johnny facing away from you, sipping tea— broad back flexing with the movement. How tight his shirt fits over the expanse of his traps and shoulders but flows loosely around the waist should be criminal. 

You hear him clear his throat and realize he had turned around while you ogled him. 

“See somethin’ ye like?” Johnny asked with a smirk.

Your facial expression shifts to mirror his.

“Always do, Johnny boy,” and it brings a hearty chuckle out of him.

“Right then, let’s get movin’. Dinnae wanna get there when it’s busy.” 

He shrugs on his jacket before approaching you and pulls on one of your beanie’s pom poms— looking at you with liquid blue eyes.

 His voice brimming with adoration, he utters, "Yer beautiful.” Johnny possesses the extraordinary talent of making you feel beautiful, no matter what you look like. Even in this instance— dressed in plain black leggings and a giant sweater.

Flustered, you say, “You’re just saying that because you want me to return the compliment.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed.

“Naw, ah know I’m devastatin,” and the waggish smile he gives you is, in fact, devastating. 

A shaky laugh escapes your lips as you lightly shove his shoulder, "Alright, alright! I get it, you're prettier than me!” and then turn to leave when Johnny hooks his fingers into your belt loops and drags you back to him. His eyes gaze into yours, filled with intensity, before he leans in to shower your neck with gentle kisses. 

“I’m not leavin’ that thought to fester in that pretty little head o’ yers,” and it’s unnerving how well Johnny knows you— reads you like a book.

You whimper and grab onto his shirt as he sucks on the delicate skin.

“No one,” kiss “in existence” kiss “is prettier than ye, sweetheart. Not even me.” and your cheeks burn at his confession.

Then he chuckles softly, “Although, I’m a close second.” 

You let out a peal of laughter at that, before giving him a sweet, tender kiss. 

—

The cold wind stings your cheeks as you twist and turn on the ice but you could be out here for hours. It’s rather comical how ordinary dancing can make you seem like you’ve got two left feet but once you step onto the skating rink, your movements become as smooth as flowing water. 

Springing into the air with your right knee bent and straightening your legs, crossing at the ankles— with your arms up to your chest, one hand gripping the other wrist—  you rotate once, then twice, before landing on your opposite foot on the outside edge of the blade, and slow down as you skate backward.

You’re jolted back into reality with the sound of people clapping. Oh. Biting your lip, you briskly skate around the Christmas tree in the rink and head towards the spot Johnny’s standing in, seeking solace in his arms. As you approach the rink corner, he immediately swallows you in a wordless embrace. Read like a book.

“Ye looked in yer element, bonnie. Dinnae worry ‘bout them,” he said with a proud smile. 

The embarrassment from earlier combined had you warm and with Johnny's praise, you feel like you’re burning up. So you unzip your sweater open to cool off when he quickly grabs the front to pull you in closer.

You’re about to ask what he’s doing when you notice his sky-blue eyes focused on your chest, pupils expanding as he finally notices your breasts through your shirt— nipples pebbled from the freezing weather. 

He reaches to roll a hardened bud between his thumb and pointer as he murmurs, “And where are yer underclothes?” and you respond with a mischievous grin.

Johnny flicks his eyes to yours and resolutely nods to himself before lifting you above the wall of the rink—effortlessly placing you over his shoulder. You’re pretty sure about where this is going, and a rush of anticipation tightens your core.

With a swift motion, he swings open the cargo space door, sheds his jacket, and places you softly on top of it—resting on the folded flat seats of the SUV. After untying your skates and placing them aside, he crawls in and firmly shuts the door behind him.

You spread your legs invitingly, and he slides himself into the gap. Then leans in, his mouth meeting yours in an all-consuming kiss, and you moan into it as his tongue languidly entangles with yours— grinding your center into his clothed erection. 

Johnny lightly nips at your bottom lip before releasing it to ask, “Are ye wearin’ any knickers, hen?” and you shake your head, eliciting a groan from him.

He drags your shirt up, warming his cold hand on the soft of your tummy— your skin goose-pimpling at the feeling before he dips that hand under the waistband of your leggings.

His icy touch on your scorching cunt is a sensation you’ll never forget. The temperature play sends a jolt up your spine, lighting up your nerves and you gasp out a visible breath into the chilly air of the car. Johnny rubs tight little circles on your slippery clit before he grunts, and rips a hole in your leggings— tossing your legs over his shoulders.

You’re keening at his warm mouth on your cunt— a stark contrast to the coldness of his hands. Johnny drags his tongue between your folds and then lazily circles your clit with the tip of his tongue. He eats your pussy like a starved man as he licks and nips your cunt and the coil in your lower tummy threatens to snap— thighs shakily squeezing his head and he digs his fingers into the meat of your hips. He licks from your slit to your swollen nub before he oh so lightly sucks on it and you shatter. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashes into your body, sending sharp prickles down to your toes. Johnny moans as flattens his tongue against your pulsating clit, helping you ride out your orgasm— prolonging your pleasure.

Limbs completely lax and your body pliable, you lie there and watch him take his thick cock out—  give it two strokes before leaning over you with one hand and lining up against your slit with the other. 

Johnny sinks to the hilt and you stretch with a stinging burn against his assault. You are so bloody sensitive but he blessedly lets you get accommodated to the feel of him. He comes down to his elbows, encasing your head, and slowly rolls his hips— making you reach up to curl your hands around his arms, nails digging into the meat of his biceps. Your eyes close at the vivid feeling of him filling you to the brim, the tip of his cock pressing into your cervix when he nudges your cheek with his nose. 

“Keep those eyes on me, sweetheart,” he whispers as he skillfully maneuvers his hips to hit that sweet spot deep inside you, where ecstasy blooms and dreams begin.

With each unwavering thrust, he propels you closer to the edge, the intensity growing with each passing second. Your gummy walls are swollen from your previous orgasm, and you think you can feel the veins on this length with each drag of his heavy cock. The wet sounds from your pussy as he vigorously fucks you and the feel of his bollocks slapping against your arse is almost too much. Suddenly, Johnny grinds his hips, and the exquisite touch of his neatly groomed curls against your clit causes you to explode. You shatter with a scream and he gives you eight more slow but firm strokes before muffling a loud moan into your neck as your cunt milks him dry— your walls squeezing rhythmically around his twitching length that spurts his seed against the entrance of your womb. 

As you both come down for your high, the sound of your ragged breathing echoes throughout the car. The windows have become foggy, a sign of the stark contrast in temperature between the passionate moments shared inside and the frigidity of the outside world.

With one final kiss, he pulls out with a grunt. Your eyes are closing from the exhaustion of ice skating and having two earth-breaking orgasms wrung out of you when Johnny remarks, “You looked beautiful skating,” and that sounds like an unfinished thought. 

“But?” you croak out. 

He chuckles and answers, “But nothing beats how ye look full of my cum,” and drags his thumb up your slit, smearing your mixed juices over the lips of your cunt— making you whimper at your oversensitivity. 

Cheeky scot.

A/N: remind yourself to scold Johnny for making your leggings wearable only in the bedroom. 

[somedaylazysomeday]

Hooked - Part Two

Continued Billy Butcher x fem!reader

You bring Billy back to your apartment.

Rating: Explicit - mind the warnings. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3,400

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, blunt conversations about sex, swearing (obviously), brief description of a sex toy, piv sex.

Previous | Masterlist

---

“You live next to a junkyard,” Butcher said, grinning. “Are you shitting me?”

You huffed at him, but it was hard to argue his point. Instead, you concentrated on unlocking your front door and said, “It’s not a junkyard. It’s part of the tow yard.” 

“Full of junk.”

“What did you think happened to cars that were crushed?” you asked, exasperated. “They’ll get recycled eventually, but it’s cheaper if we keep them here until we have a full load of them.”

“Doesn’t make the view any prettier.” Butcher turned around, eyes raking up and down over you. “Least, not lookin’ that direction.” 

You rolled your eyes. “That was stupid.” 

Butcher barked a laugh. “Your sweet talk needs work.” 

“How’s this, then?” you asked, stepping inside your apartment and beckoning him to follow you. “I have alcohol.” 

“Sweetest talk I ever heard,” Butcher declared. “Anything good?” 

“Cupboard next to the fridge,” you said, pointing it out to him. “Pick your poison. I’m gonna change into something not covered in oil.” 

When you came back into the combined kitchen and living room of your cramped apartment, Butcher’s eyebrows lifted. “You actually changed clothes.” 

You glanced down at yourself. Instead of your makeshift uniform of dark jeans and a serviceable shirt, you were wearing a soft tee shirt and loose pajama pants. “I said I was going to. I don’t want to get oil on my furniture.” 

“Yeah, you did say that,” he agreed. “But normally, people come back naked.” 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” you said lightly, pulling a beer out of the fridge. “But I want a drink before I do anything else. Cheers.” 

Butcher watched as you tapped the bottom of your beer bottle against the glass of amber liquid he was holding. He followed you to the comfortable living room, and you could feel that he was going to say something as he settled on the other end of the broken-in couch.

“Tryin’ to talk yourself into doing this?” he asked. “Or out of it?” 

“Neither,” you said, wiping a stray drop of beer from your lip. “I just wanted a beer.” 

“You sure you want to fuck?” Butcher’s tone was blunt and stark, his gaze echoing it perfectly. 

“Yeah.” That didn’t seem to be enough of an answer for him, so you shrugged. “I like sex, and I like you a hell of a lot more than some of the people I’ve slept with in the past. Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Butcher scoffed, but you didn’t accept that as an answer. When he had taken the hint, he said, “There you go, calling me a pussy again. ‘Course I do. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous. Just thought it was strange that you want to jump in bed with a stranger. We didn’t even shake hands.” 

That was so ridiculous that you choked on your mouthful of beer. Sputtering, you stuck your hand out for him. Butcher glanced at it, then up at your face before he took it, giving a ginger shake. 

“There,” you said, clearing your throat to dislodge your drink from where it had wandered. “Are we well acquainted enough to sleep together, or do we need to make a secret handshake?” 

“Smartass,” Butcher muttered, taking a healthy swallow from his glass. “Though now that you mention it…” 

He scooted closer and you braced yourself for a complex handshake or something equally ridiculous, but he leaned in until he could press a kiss to your lips. You were still for the short exchange, frozen in shock, but he ducked in again and you managed to respond. 

Butcher was a surprisingly good kisser. You hadn’t expected it from his gruff and generally unpleasant demeanor, but maybe you should have. Butcher seemed like an asshole and he was - but it was paired with a depth and humanity that took time to unlock. Maybe you should have guessed that he would be the same in other things. 

The moment you responded, he deepened the kiss. You did the same, unwilling to let him get the upper hand. You could feel Butcher smile into the kiss, even if it was half a snarl, and he nipped sharply at your lower lip. When you gasped, he swept through your mouth like a force of nature, leaving no room for doubt that he had taken charge. 

So, naturally, you had to up the ante by straddling him. 

Your knees sank into the couch on either side of his hips. That only made it easier to press your core against him. You were starting to feel distinctly hot and slick inside of your loose pajama pants, and you could feel Butcher’s stiffening length through the thick weave of his jeans. 

Butcher groaned, the sound muffled by your lips, and you smiled to hold back a noise of your own. He felt delicious against you, and this was starting to sound like a better idea every moment that passed. Normally, you didn’t hop into bed this soon after meeting someone - especially when they had started off being such an asshole - but you really wanted to do this. And you trusted yourself enough to follow through on that want. 

“Want to stay here?” you asked between breathless kisses. “Or move to the bedroom?” 

He was about to give a sarcastic response, you could see it rising behind his eyes. You had only just braced for it when you watched him make the decision to be civil. “Bedroom.” 

“This way,” you instructed, climbing down from his lap and leading him over toward your bedroom door. “Hang on.” 

Butcher waited while you shoved a pile of clothes onto the floor. “Love a woman with good organizational skills.”

“Shut up,” you told him unceremoniously, tossing a spare sock toward the chair in the corner of your room. “I didn’t exactly expect to have someone over here tonight.”

“Glad you changed your plans.” 

His sarcasm almost made you say something harsh. The only reason you didn’t was because you worked out your frustration by shoving him onto the bed. He was still bouncing when you climbed on top of him again. 

He stayed quiet for a minute, mostly because he was too busy kissing you to talk, but he could only make it so long without speaking. “Hang on, love. Who said you get to be on top?” 

“My house, my rules,” you explained, nibbling at his jawline. “Besides, you give off pillow princess vibes.” 

“Excuse the fuck outta me,” Butcher bit out, but he wasn’t actually mad. “I ain’t nobody’s princess, love, not even in the bedroom. Not that there’s anything wrong with a man layin’ back to enjoy the view…” 

His hands skimmed up the sides of your body, dragging your shirt up toward your chest. His dark eyes soaked in every bit of skin he had bared, and eagerly watched for more. A dirty little grin curved his lips, stretching them in a way that probably hurt the split skin. With a look of mild concentration, he lifted the shirt even further, exposing your breasts. 

You had been mostly thinking about comfort when you had chosen not to put on another bra, but you were happy you had skipped it. The appreciative groan Butcher let out when he saw your bare chest stroked your ego. In fact, you were feeling confident enough to whip the shirt off entirely, leaving you wearing only your pair of well-worn pajama pants. 

The pants were thin enough that his bulge put pressure exactly where you wanted it the most, and you ground your core against him unashamedly. 

Butcher’s fingertips slid below the stretched elastic waistband at your hips. “Does that mean you’re not wearing anything other than these?” 

You raised your eyebrows at him. “If you weren’t overdressed, you might already know.” 

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” 

He bucked hard, spinning beneath you. You fought the noise that tried to rise in your throat, and compromised by collapsing to the bed beside him. As soon as you landed, you rolled to lay on your side to watch him. Butcher was already working at the button of his jeans, stripping them off as quickly as he could manage. His shirt followed, then his socks, until he was dressed in a pair of dark blue boxer-briefs. 

“That makes us even,” he said, gesturing to his hips. It was a pointless movement - you were already looking. “Unless you are wearing something under those.” 

You tugged down the fabric of the pants, pulling until there was a stretch of skin showing from hip to mid-thigh. “Nope.” 

Butcher pouted when you let the waistband slide back up into place, but he consoled himself by cupping one of your breasts. He watched raptly as its nipple pebbled under the attention. “Much as I love the foreplay, love, I think we should get a little more hands-on.” 

“Okay,” you agreed, willing enough. You teased your fingertips into the hair on his chest before following that dark trail downward until it disappeared into the boxer-briefs.

“Careful,” he warned, catching your hand before it could make contact with anything more vital. 

“Giving me one last chance to back out?” you teased. 

Butcher grinned. “Nah, you’re outta chances. Givin’ you one last chance to get naked before I take care of it myself. And I can’t promise that these,” he paused, experimentally tugging at the fabric of your pants, “would survive it.” 

“Fine.” You sighed, sitting back to give yourself room to wriggle out of the soft bottoms. You balled them up, tossing them vaguely in the direction of the chair where your clean clothes had ended up. When you rolled back toward him, Butcher’s gaze was so intense, you could almost feel it on your skin. Still, you pretended not to notice. Instead, you shrugged. “Better?” 

He was naked faster than you could believe, and on top of you even faster than that. He savaged your mouth with his, the kiss full of teeth and heat and desperation, but you were distracted by the way he had pressed his hips between your spread thighs. The press of him against your core increased the pressure eating you alive, and it only grew more intense when you started to wriggle against him. 

Butcher didn’t seem like the type to get off on denying himself, and he bucked firmly against you the moment you moved. You could feel the thick slide of him against your damp folds, the head of him catching occasionally against your clit. 

“Condom,” you gasped, as you remembered that very important requirement. “There are some in the nightstand.” 

He sat on the side of the bed, fishing through the top drawer of your bedside table until he came up with a small, foil-wrapped packet. He rolled it over himself, but took a beat to switch on a large rabbit vibrator he had found. He smirked at the way it wobbled in his hand as you rolled your eyes. 

“Butcher,” you complained. “Do you always get distracted so easily?” 

“Who says I’m distracted?” he challenged, looking back at you with a glint in his eyes. “Maybe I’m planning round two.” 

Your lower belly fluttered at the idea that he was already interested in going again with you, but you shook your head. “I’m more worried about us starting round one before you have to go pick up your car.” 

Butcher chuckled lowly. “Yeah? Well, since I don’t like to make you worry…” 

He crawled across the bed on his hands and knees, making eye contact while he approached you. Butcher ran his rough hands up your legs as he urged them to part, slotting himself between your thighs as soon as he had the room. He was pressed against you again, but this time, there was nothing to stop him from pushing inside of you. 

So he did. 

The broad head of him slid through your slit, bumping your clit and collecting wetness until he was in the perfect spot. That first press was slow, and you vaguely noticed Butcher’s muscles trembling as he worked to hold himself steady. 

Though he didn’t force himself quickly into you, the steady slide into you was just as overwhelming as a sudden thrust would have been. He felt massive stretching you, patient and almost inevitable. 

The rest of the world disappeared. There was no tow yard, no car in need of repairs, no desperate job hunt. There was only here and now, the bed beneath you, and the warm weight of Butcher on top of you. And, of course, the thick stretch of him as he slowly made room for himself in your body. 

Your head kicked back and your nails sank into Butcher’s shoulders and back. He grimaced slightly, but there was nothing you could do about it - your body was reacting without any conscious input from your mind. 

When his hips were firmly nestled in the cradle of your pelvis, you took a shaking breath and realized that it was the first time you had breathed in a while.

“Fuck,” Butcher spat out. You would have almost thought he was angry, but his eyelids were fluttering in barely suppressed ecstasy. “You okay? Feels like you’re about to snap my dick clean off.”

You shook your head despairingly. “Romantic.” 

He glanced down at you in surprise. “Wouldn’t-a thought you’d go in for the romantic stuff. Want me to say something nice? Ay?” 

“Don’t,” you demanded. “I think it would creep me out if you started being nice.” 

Butcher opened his mouth to say something - probably something insulting, if you were to guess from the curl of his lips - but you rolled your hips experimentally. He choked, but you ignored him. 

He still felt massive in you, but you were adjusting. By that point, you were acclimated enough for him to start moving. You rolled your hips again. 

Butcher caught at your waist, holding you in place. “Easy, sweetheart. Don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“I’m fine, now move.” 

He tilted his head at you. “Bossy.” 

Then he started to move. And it was… fine. 

He was going too slowly, far too slowly. Maybe he wanted to keep things slow? Maybe you were tight enough that you were hurting him? But you didn’t think so. There was a fine tremble running through his chest and biceps, and his hips gave an occasional stutter against yours, like he was struggling not to start thrusting into you. 

You weren’t going to put up with that. You hooked a leg around the back of his knee, giving a sharp tug to topple his balance. When he collapsed forward, he pushed a fraction of an inch further into you, driving a moan from both of you at once. 

You managed to recover quickly, moving to one side as his body came crashing down on the mattress beside you. From there, it was simple to push him onto his back, then to straddle his narrow hips. With a steadying grip on his cock and a bit of thigh strength, you were sinking down onto him. 

The stretch was still intense the second time, but it was a manageable stretch. You could think of things beyond it rather than being fully engrossed, and your senses stayed sharp. That gave you an excellent view of Butcher’s eyes fluttering shut as he was enveloped in your heat a second time. 

The groan he tried to stifle made you throb around him, especially when it trailed into something dangerously close to a whine. “Fuck. You’re gonna kill me if we’re not careful.” 

“Is there a better way you want to go out?” you asked. It hadn’t been intended as a rhetorical question, but it turned into one when you started to ride him slowly. 

The room wasn’t quiet. You could hear traffic on a nearby highway and strains of music playing in an apartment somewhere in the building. More immediately, the sounds of panted breaths, muffled curses, and moving bodies filled the room, creating a perfect sexual soundtrack. 

You leaned forward, planting your hands against Butcher’s chest to balance yourself. The coarse hairs tickled your palms, but you only pressed harder as you used your thigh muscles to propel you both toward glory. Butcher’s fingers sank into your ass, clutching you tight as he started to thrust counter to your movements. 

“Faster, love,” Butcher urged. 

“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled back. “My damn legs are falling off.” 

He hooked one arm behind his head, supporting it on his own elbow as he smirked up at you. You were slightly appeased by the hitch in his voice when he spoke. “Can’t blame me. I started out on top, didn’t I? Then someone pulled a nasty trick so she could be in charge of things. But if you want to give up, I could be persuaded to take over again…” 

“Shut up, Butcher.” You grimaced as you sped up. The complaints from your leg muscles were loud, but your impending orgasm managed to be even louder. You leaned in, letting him support even more of your weight to ease your burning thighs. He let out a little ‘oof’ at the additional pressure, but seemed mostly unbothered.

You hadn’t stopped moving during the exchange, and neither had he. You were both getting close, you could tell by the way his breathing had sped in time with your own. 

“Gonna come, love,” Butcher warned. 

You nodded, rapid and too many times, but your focus was elsewhere. “Touch me, Butcher. I’m close.” 

His hands lifted, moving confidently to your breasts. That wasn’t exactly what you had been thinking, but there was something delicious about the way he cupped you. And when his rough fingers rolled the tender flesh of your nipples, you begrudgingly changed your opinion to ‘good’. 

Still, it wasn’t quite the stimulation that you needed. You shifted your hands so that one would support your weight while the other dipped down and back, between your own legs. Butcher twitched at the way your knuckles brushed the base of his cock, but you were far more focused on the magic your fingers were working against your clit. 

The stimulation felt nice most times, but it was particularly intense when there was something stretching your channel. A few quick, sure strokes against those screaming nerves and you were poised on the edge. 

“Beautiful,’ Butcher said roughly, eyes fixed where your fingers were still playing. “Come for me.” 

You hated to give him the satisfaction of doing anything he asked, but your body seemed willing enough. The moment he had finished saying it, your inner muscles cranked down like a vice, squeezing him in a helpless spasm of desperate pleasure.

Beneath you, Butcher groaned and hissed. Nothing he said were actual words, but you knew they were meant to be curses. Just as your peak started to recede, his hands pulled you down onto him, spearing up into you as far as he could. His hips jerked and danced as he spilled, and only the condom he wore kept him from emptying himself into you. 

At last, you both were lying on the bed, heavy-lidded and sated. Butcher had struck you as the type to jump up and leave immediately after sex, but he didn’t. Instead, he peeled off the condom, cleaned himself up with a tissue, handed another to you, and settled comfortably against one of your pillows. 

You crumpled up the tissue in your hand as you went to use the bathroom. One of washcloths you kept by the sink would do a much better job at cleaning you up, and you had to pee anyway. 

When you came back into your bedroom, Butcher was still lying in your bed. His breathing was slow and even, and you knew that he had fallen asleep. It made you smile as you climbed in beside him, pulling the sheets over you both. You had expected that would wake him up, but he was out.

Maybe it was because of his injuries. Maybe it had been a long day for him. Either way, you remembered thinking how cute it was that he fell asleep so quickly, then sleep rose up and claimed you without a chance to fight it. 

The single time you rose back to consciousness, Butcher was pressed close, lips brushing your shoulder and an arm flung over your waist to keep you where you were.

---

Author's Note - Thanks for reading! There are other Fanfic February fics on the way, but I would love to hear what you thought about this one! This is my first time writing Billy Butcher, so I was a little nervous about this one.

[miniisunshine]

It's here! My Kappa x new girl is out

Synopsis : Was he yours if he wanted me so bad

Warnings : AFAB ready, P in V, swearing, dubious consent?, dom Kappa, sort off humiliation kink

Being the new girl in an already established group is never easy, even harder when there's princess treatments for one, but boy oh boy were you determine to move that bitch and take her place sooner or later.

You've met Kappa for the first time in an alleyway; while you were trying to steal from a creepy guy, your plan failed miserably and you ended up trap inbetween him and a brick wall. Trying to escape from his strong grasp, delaying the horrible nightmares who would come next, you were lucky enough to be saved by the long black haired cult leader. Immediately hypnotised by his cold icy gaze, you didn't need to think one minute to accept his invitation to join his "human-robots killers group". I mean, you were already in the crime industry, what could go wrong?

Already head over heels for this man, you were greeted with a cold shower when you first met Kappa's favorite one : Theta. And she made it veeery clear to you that he was hers and she was his, like a prince to his princess.

But what she didn't know was, at night, the one she called "mine" was in your bed, carressing and kissing you, whispering sweet words into your ears as he fucked you until you couldn't see clear and you loved it, even though you still wanted to be more than just his midnight love.

So one night, as you were laying on his chest, drawing circles on his skin, you poured your heart out for Kappa.

"Are you gonna claim me as yours one day?"

"Why are you asking that Sugar?"

You sighed

"I'm tired of being your dirty little secret, i should be the one you show proudly, not Theta.."

"But i love you just like i love her, isn't that enough?"

"No it's not! And you clearly don't LOVE her if you keep coming in my bed every night! Stop lying with those words."

You almost screamed.

Shocked by your anger he got off the bed, raising his hand to slap you, but didn't, like a force prevented him from doing so. Without a word, he stormed out the room, leaving you crying quietly on your matress, deeply affected by his unequival feelings to you.

As the night goes by, sadness grew into anger and anger became vengance: let's see how long he could resist keeping you a secret to the rest of the group.

In the morning, you threw off the sluttiest nightgown you could find, parading in front of everybody, purposefully getting the attention of every man who would get an eyeful of your body.

Bending over to grab the milk in the fridge, your eyes met Kappa's furious gaze, as you slowly poured the liquid in a glass. Because Theta was peacefully eating her breakfast next to you, he knew nothing could be done right now to stop this show you put on before lunch, preventing "his" men from looking at you like lions looking at their prey.

You finished your milk, winking at him while licking your lips, as you went back into your room, changing yourself, ready to attack this beautiful day.

Since nothing was scheduled today, you decided to take on the tasks you were given one your first day : cleaning the house. Washing and scrubing was something you enjoyed a lot and with a boring day like this, it was the perfect activity to waste your time one.

As the hour passed, you were left all alone in the house, cleaning the dining room, while the others benefited from the great warmth outside, or so you thought.

Deeply focus into your work, you didn't heard Kappa's footsteps rapidly approaching, caging you with his chest on your back and his hands trapping yours on the table.

"You have 5 seconds to explain what happened this morning Sugar."

He asked calmly, with a bittersweet undertone.

"I don't know what you're talking about.."

You said innocently, but deep down, this moment was all you hoped for after what you have done earlier.

"Don't act fucking stupid with me. Is it because of last night? Are you now punishing me for telling you the truth sweety?"

You couldn't respond. His dark tone and his tall body towering behind you were making you unable to let any sound come out of your mouth.

"Let's see who's really getting punish in all of this."

You couldn't process what he had said before he forcefully slamed your upperbody on the table, pressing his hard on in your ass.

"W..wait Kappa.. We can t..talk!"

"Too late pretty face, you've reached my limit and now you have to pay for it."

His peaceful voice would have calmed everybody, but the situation made it bone chilling as the words reached your ears.

He cuffed both your hands behind your back with his right hand while he stripped you from your pants and underwear before doing the same with his.

You couldn't deny the excitement in that moment, but you could also feel the anxiety going up as you knew you were in for a rough one.

Against all odds, you felt Kappa's fingers carressing your wet folds, making you whimper.

"Already so wet for me.. Do you really think i believed you when you told me you didn't put that little show on purpose this morning?"

He landed a hard slap on your ass, obtaining a hiss from you, as he lower himself to your ears.

"You want me to show everybody who you belong to?"

You nodded weakly before he inserted himself harshly into you, with a low groan. You loudly cried out of pleasure, but also from pain, as a tear made his way on your cheek.

"Nhg... K..Kappa.."

You tried to tell him to go softer with you but his rapid thrusts could only make you moan.

"Yea, keep calling my name like that"

He grabbed your waist, bruising it with his grip, as if he was scared you were gonna try to escape, but you weren't. The pain you felt earlier was far gone and replaced by pure enjoyment created by Kappa's dick into you.

Both your moans filled the dining room, creating a perfect melody for anybody to hear, and by anybody you meant Theta, who was watching everything from the window, outside. You catched her staring as Kappa kept drilling into you and that's what pushed you to the edge: knowing his favorite girl was watching him gaining pleasure by you was enough to make you come.

Screaming his name, you gripped the table as hardly as you could, legs shaking from the things you were feeling.

"Is my girl already done?"

Kappa's didn't let you came down from your high as he grab you by the shoulders, forcing you to face him and kneel before him.

"Now finish me off"

You licked your lips, pumping his length with your hands before licking it from balls to tip, making him drop his head backwards. As precum started to leak, you take him whole into his mouth, adjusting to his size while your fingers found their way on his balls.

His hands firmly grabbed a chunk off your hair, as he guided your head, sucking him off just the way he liked it.

"F...fuck just like that.. Good girl.."

Tears were creeping from your eyes and spit dripping from your mouth, butyou could only focus on the ungodly sounds Kappa was producing, making you unable to not touch yourself as your clit was throbbing.

Both your paces increased as his breath fasten, signifying he was reaching his limits. Your moans vibrating on his dick, he released his load into your mouth while you came for a second time on your fingers.

Swallowing the milky concoction, Kappa helped you get on your feet, dressing him and you back as he placed small kisses on your body, telling you how good you did today.

You innocently smiled as you leaved the room to go wash yourself up in the bath before Theta blocked you in the hallway

"What do you think you're doing with MY man?"

"I mean, is he really yours if he wanted me so bad?"

Omg i am so sorry it took so long and it being so badly written. I had an idea, but it was done poorly! Hopefully at least one you appreciate it lol

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 26, 2021 12:50 a.m. square-k convenience store

[yunha] first of all, i would want dr. pepper.

[yunha] i don’t like sodas that much, but i love dr. pepper. it’s the kfc of sodas.

[grant] 11 secret herbs and spices? but liquid?

[yunha] exactly! it’s like cola and not cola, root beer and not root beer, spicy and not spicy.

[yunha] maybe it sounds dumb, but...

[grant] no, no, not at all! honestly, you're doing big-brain science over there, decoding all the flavors.

[grant] have you heard of hot dr. pepper?

[yunha] what?

[grant] hot dr. pepper. it’s a thing, i swear! like a sixties thing but some people are still into it. i'm not making it up.

[grant] and speaking of coffee and hot dr. pepper, one of my aunts drinks it in the morning instead of coffee.

[yunha] that’s so strange. why hot?

[yunha] won't it just lose the carbonation?

[grant] i don't know, i don't really want to partake in drinking it, but if i were a betting man, i would say yeah, that's probably the outcome.

[grant] anyway, continue! dr. pepper. i respect that. great choice. i'm loyal to faygo but i do fuck with dr. pepper.

[yunha] how can i continue after that sudden trauma?

[grant] would you like me to procure you a cold dr. pepper to rinse out the agony?

[yunha] no, it's okay!

[grant] well, the offer is still on the table! i'm not evil.

[yunha] anyway, the last part of my meal would be seolleongtang.

[grant] oh, that's ox bone stew, isn't it?

[yunha] yes! it's not even my favorite food, but if i knew my expiration date, i'd want to prepare it and eat it one more time.

[grant] why choose that then?

[yunha] it reminds me of my family. we had some, hm, difficult times, and i remember my dad making this for us, especially for my mom to improve her mood. it's actually her favorite food.

[grant] that's very sweet. like beyond sweet. it's more about invoking that feeling of love again than the literal food, yeah?

[yunha] of course. i would like to feel that love again and also share it, and thank my parents for everything.

[yunha] i wouldn't need anything else.

[grant] you really love your family.

[yunha] more than anything.

[yunha] okay, now tell me your final meal!

[grant] i can tell you the ideal one would not be as humble as yours.

[grant] i mean, my logic for myself is, like, alright, i'm about to slowly turn back into cosmic dust, with or without a consciousness somehow floating around the universe, so screw it, do whatever.

[grant] i'm already going "home," so why not go big?

[grant] so, it’s my last day on earth. i'm at my place chilling with my cat.

[yunha] you have a cat?

[grant] his name is turtle. he’s very cute. he wears sweaters. he was a stray. i picked him up years ago from underneath a dumpster at IHOP at two in the morning, and i nursed him back to health.

[yunha] aww, i always wanted a cat. like some cuddly, fat, fluffy cat.

[grant] you should get one! i highly recommend it.

[yunha] i can’t! not yet.

[grant] do you want to see a picture of turtle before i imagine my untimely death? funny, i was just saying to someone else earlier that i want a timely one.

[grant] there he is, right on my home screen.

[yunha] oh my goshhhhh, i love him.

[grant] he's the best. no joke. but again, last meal. turtle and i are chilling, and yeah.

[grant] i absolutely have to have my grandma’s macaroni and cheese. it’s perfection and also my favorite food of all time. uhh, let’s see, i think you almost always need potatoes with a meal. i'd be happy with my grandma’s colcannon, like mashed potatoes and cabbage. what else? i mean, not to talk about coffee again, but i do love it, so maybe a vanilla latte for liquid consumption. oh, and fuck, coconut cake is a must. that’s my grandma’s recipe, too

[grant] i'd also have pizza for sure. pineapple is nonnegotiable, it's going on there. pineapple, pepperoni, the whole works.

[yunha] so, you’re a big fan of dairy products and your grandma?

[grant] that about sums it up!

[yunha] did you, like, grow up on a dairy farm?

[grant] no, but my grandma did!

[yunha] ah, i see. it's all connected.

[yunha] so, you like talking about death?

[grant] i don't. it just seems to come up a lot accidentally.

[grant] but really, i asked you this question because it's just, i don't know, an interesting way to get at people's values in life?

[grant] and it was just what came out of my mouth first.

[yunha] we answered kind of similarly. what did you learn about me?

[grant] same values, different approaches, i'd say.

[yunha] by the way, my other value is pineapple belongs on pizza.

[grant] oh, thank god! finally, someone else agrees!

[yunha] corn is also really good as a topping.

[grant] man, i feel deprived now. where have you been the last thirty years? you could have told me such a feat of engineering exists!

[e-dubbc11]

Happy Winter Sleepover! ❄️

“Out of Left Field” universe reader takes Billy on a date, or tries to make good Christmas memories for Billy maybe.

My lovely friend ♥️

It makes me smile knowing how much you enjoy this little universe. I hope you enjoy what I did here and thank you SO much for sending in as many asks as you did. I appreciate you ♥️

The Perfect Pitch

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Fluffy bunnies and unicorns, a swear word or two(I think)

Word Count: 1.9K-ish

Summary: Billy tells you a secret. You plan a date and a surprise to try and give him a happy holiday memory

A/N: Part of the Out of Left Field universe. I’ll link parts one and two under the author’s note

PART 1

PART 2

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“But he said he doesn’t really like Christmas, Jackie.” You said with a slight frown on your face.

Jackie had a tough day at work so she needed a drink and some girl time.

You explained to her that Billy grew up in a group home until he aged out and joined the marines. He doesn’t have a lot of fond memories of that place and definitely doesn’t have any fond Christmas memories.

“Well maybe you can give him one.” She said with a warm smile, taking a sip of her drink. “He loves you and he would love anything you did for him. Shit, he DOES love everything you do for him!” She exclaimed.

At first, Billy didn’t exactly know how to react to someone doing something nice for him. It had been six months since your first date and you did little things for Billy to make sure he knew how much you meant to him which he loved.

“Oh like the first time I brought him coffee at his office?” You said, cracking a smile. “Ya know he fired that guy that wouldn’t tell me where his office was when I walked in?”

“Of course he did! See, he REALLY loves you!” She said.

It was mundane things like bringing him coffee or leaving little notes in his jacket pocket, “I love you, handsome,” that made him soft for you.

You would have to do some serious thinking but you were going to try and give Billy Russo at least ONE happy Christmas memory.

**********

Enjoying an after dinner bourbon with Billy was very relaxing and romantic especially back at his penthouse where you could be alone and it’s quiet. On a clear chilly evening, the city lights outside dimly lit up the inside of the living room while you sat and talked with him.

It had taken some time but he opened up a little more to you, as long as you didn’t push too hard, he was willing to share.

With your legs draped over his lap, you took a sip of your drink and continued to lightly scratch his scalp with your nails. He loved it; he told you it helped him relax.

“That feels nice, sweet girl.” He hummed as a wide smile stretched across his lips. “How was your day, baby?” He asked.

“Walked past Rockefeller Center today. They were starting to put up the Christmas tree.” You said.

Billy looked at you with a slight smile.

“Can I tell you a secret, my love?” He asked.

You set your drink down on the coffee table with excitement because Billy wanted to share a secret with you. Sitting up on your knees and resting your elbow on top of the couch, you smiled and replied, “Of course you can, handsome. Tell me!”

Billy glanced down at the dark amber liquid in his glass for another minute before turning his head to look at you again. The little lines around his dark chocolate eyes crinkled when he flashed a childlike smile at you.

“I know I told you I’m not a big fan of Christmas but…I do really love Christmas lights. I’ve lived in New York my entire life and I’ve never seen them light that tree.” He said, tilting the glass back and forth.

Slowly, you inched your face closer to his, cupped his cheek and brushed his beard with your thumb. You gave him a warm smile before your lips captured his in a tender kiss.

You whispered against his lips. “Well maybe we can remedy that, baby.”

**********

You didn’t like to ask for favors, you loathed it actually but you were very close to your uncle who was the manager of the 620 Loft & Garden on 5th Avenue. You asked him if there was any way that you and Billy could watch the tree lighting from the rooftop…alone.

He pulled some strings and made sure the two of you would be alone when they lit the tree. He said you probably wouldn’t be able to stay up there long after they light it but he’d definitely make it happen.

“Thank you SO much Uncle Mark! I just can’t wait to see the look on his face.” You said excitedly and hugging him tightly.

“He must be very special for you to do this for him, y/n.” He said, squeezing you back.

Tears stung the back of your eyes before you replied, “He is…Billy deserves it. He does so many thoughtful things for me, I just wanted to show him that kind of love in return.”

Billy had no idea what day or what time they actually lit the Rockefeller Christmas tree so this was going to be a complete surprise for him. He just assumed you wanted to take him out for a burger and a beer after work that following Wednesday.

You had your evening planned right down to the minute they lit up that tree. Thankfully it wouldn’t be too cold that night; it’s a lot easier to stand outside on the roof of a tall building when it’s not freezing cold.

Bill’s Bar & Burger was the restaurant underneath the 620 Loft & Garden. Your reservation was for around 8 and they lit the tree around 10. The butterflies in your stomach felt like they were fighting to get out because you were so excited to do this for him.

Patiently, you waited for him to pick you up. He always insisted on coming up to your apartment to get you. Billy texted to say that he was going home to change first and then he would be over to pick you up around 7.

Billy had a long day, you could tell he was tired and he was hinting that he just wanted to get something to eat quickly and go home so you had to figure out a way to get him to stay out until the tree lighting.

He smiled his way through dinner as you told him all about your day and he told you about his which was filled with meetings and training. Your day wasn’t nearly as busy as his but he had a lot of responsibility, you could understand why he was tired at the end of the day.

You had to think fast because Billy just wanted to go home with you after eating.

“My uncle is the manager of the rooftop venue of this building. He said we could check it out after dinner, bring our drinks…that sorta thing. They decorate for the holidays and he always sends me pictures but I’ve never seen it for myself.” You said.

With a tired smile, Billy said, “Sure beautiful, we can check it out. Better than bein’ out on the street right now. Why are there so many people out there anyway?” He asked, his slight New York accent pushing through a little harder. That happened sometimes when he was tired, you thought it was sexy.

You knew exactly why there were so many people outside but you just shrugged and acted like you had no idea why.

It was around 9:30 when the two of you took your drinks and made your way up to the roof. Walking around, the perfectly shaped shrubs were tastefully decorated with white lights and red ribbons.

You wanted to take a picture of Billy’s face and childlike smile when he stepped out onto that rooftop but you still had about 20 minutes before the tree was going to be lit and there was only so much stalling you could do.

“It’s nice up here, baby.” Said Billy looking around at the lights.

He didn’t look over the edge to where you could see Rockefeller center and the tree.

“It is really pretty.” You replied.

He took the final sip of his beer and said, “So, ya ready to go? It’s nice up here but it’s a little cold, my love.”

Shit.

You were out of stalling tactics; you didn’t know how else to keep him busy for a few more minutes.

Thinking fast, you said, “Well come here handsome, let me see if I can warm you up a little.”

You snaked your arms around his neck as you looked into his endless brown eyes that were shining against the bright white lights. Billy wrapped his long arms around your waist and pulled you flush to his body as his lips crushed against yours.

They were chilled and a little dry but you definitely welcomed his kiss and kept kissing him, parting your lips slightly as his tongue pressed against your teeth, desperately wanting to entwine with yours.

After taking a couple of pictures, Billy had nice long arms that were perfect for taking selfies, you had to go one floor down and out onto the deck to get the perfect view of the tree. Pulling him down the stairs, you opened one of the corner doors and stepped outside once again.

“Sweet girl, I thought we were done. I’m ready to—What’s all that noise?” He asked looking over your shoulder at all the people that were standing around the Rockefeller skating rink.

You heard people counting down.

“3-2-1!!!”

After hearing the number one, the Rockefeller tree came to life and you watched the color lights reflect against his eyes, taking him completely by surprise. A genuine smile stretched across his lips as he gazed at the tree and then over to you.

“You’re not the only one full of suprises, Mr. Russo.” You said, returning the smile and kissing his cheek. “I thought, well anyone can watch the tree lighting from the ground but how can I make it extra special?”

Billy didn’t know what to say so he just kissed the top of your head.

“You planned all of this for me, baby?” Asked Billy.

He still looked like he was processing what just happened.

“I may not be able to arrange a private tour of Yankee Stadium but I wanted to do something special for you, Billy.” You said. “I know you don’t exactly have any good memories from this time of year but I thought maybe I could give you at least one because…you deserve it, baby.”

Billy’s only real experiences with relationships were physical and meaningless. Women used him for his looks and his money. He came from nothing and whatever he had now, he worked his ass off to be able to get but receiving gifts from others was something that eluded him.

It really was the little things like tonight that made him fall for you even harder. Burgers, beer, and Christmas lights may not seem like a lot to some people but that small gesture was everything to Billy.

“I’m not sure I deserve you, sweet girl.” He said, lightly brushing his knuckles against your cheek. “This will definitely be a good memory along with the others I’ve already made with you. I—I love you, y/n. It even says so in your pocket.”

Billy gave you a wink and waited for you to reach into your jacket pocket. He liked to put little notes in your pocket too but they were always cheesy one liners or pick-up lines. You unfolded the piece of paper that was in your pocket and it said: “You really are a homerun, baby. I love you.”

“You’re quite the catch yourself, handsome.” You said, winking in return. “I love you too, Billy.”

He pulled you in close; sharing the same air, he cupped your flushed cheeks and kissed you again. His mouth split into a sly smile as he purred in your ear.

“So…are we going to your dugout or mine?”

After you struggled to hit life’s curveballs, you both had finally connected on your perfect pitch.

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[robynlilyblack]

Hey girl, congratulations on the milestone.

It's a request for cant believe she's gone. Could you please write something about where the reader and sirius are dating but james is also in love with her. You can decide what happens but the reader and sirius stay together.

What could have been

James Potter x fem! Reader (unrequited)

Sirius Black x fem! reader

Summary: James' finds himself sitting alone at a party, not just any party but his best friends, the events of the night leaving him wondering what could have been

Warnings: swearing, established relationship (Sirius and reader), unrequited love, mentions of food, eating, alcohol, drinking and one small mention of Sirius' abuse from Orion as well as one implied moment of sh from it, sad James, oblivious reader, bittersweet angst on James' side

A/n: 1.5k words, hi! thank you lovely x James' pov, I did tear up writing this so maybe have a tissue ready 💛

Navigation | James Potter Masterlist

James swirled his glass of firewhiskey, watching the brownish liquid swish around the glass. He feel numb, he usually loved parties, hell he was usually the reason for them, be it planning, or thrown one for quidditch.

He didn’t plan this one though, you, Marlene and Remus did for Sirius’ 18th since you were all best at keeping things quiet . Peter would crack in seconds, Alice’s voice gets all high pitched when she lies, Frank can't keep secrets from Alice, and Dorcas was caring for Lily since she was so medicated with the cold she was practically on Veritaserum

As for himself, he really should have been apart of planning, Sirius was practically his brother, yet he took no part. Most didn’t question it, James hadn’t been himself since summer, he hadn’t really laughed or played pranks, nor given Lily a second glance, he was just different

James wasn’t sure himself how he ever could be normal again, not when his entire being was wishing he could go back and time, shake sense into his younger self and make him realise how good he had it, how good it could have been if he had just seen it

“Jamie!”

He felt the couch dip next to him, his heart picking up in pace at the sweet voice that somehow brought him to life and yet utterly destroyed him. He didn’t want to look at you just yet, not ready to melt under your gaze, not ready to be reminded of his own failure

“Jamie?” your voice morphs, no longer happy and excited but laced with concern

Pair that with your hand slipping into his own, squeezing it as he feels you shift on the couch and use your other hand to gently bring his face to meet yours

“Are you okay?”

Simple question, fucking complicated answer

Physically he’s fine, mentally a complete mess.

He feels better when he looks into those bright eyes of yours though, pretending your his for a moment but the bitter reality leaves a taste in his mouth no amount of firewhisky could drown

“I’m great” he gives you a smile but he knows it doesn’t meet his eyes hence he squints them just a little to make it seem like it did

You tilt your head. You don’t believe it, course you don’t. You’re you, his best friend, best friend since forever. You know that trick, you taught him that trick

“Don’t lie” you tell him, tone soft yet there’s an underlying firmness only few people could feel

He sighs, placing down his glass and bringing his full attention to you. His eyes dance quickly over your figure, jeans adored with a lazily tucked shirt, casual yet completely perfect in his eyes. Hair hanging natural, a little makeup made up of Marlene drawing little stars across your cheeks, flattering your features impeccably.

His definition of beautiful

“You look pretty” he lets the compliment slip, yet he would never regret it, not when you smile like that at it every time

“Not so bad yourself mr dear” you throw in a little wink and he feels his heart flutter “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head “Sorry” he gives you an apologetic smile, he told you everything, maybe not right away but eventually, however this secret he fears he’ll take to the grave

You seem in thought for a little while, clearly planing on finding a way to cheer him up and you would, it the most you way possible.

And he will forget for a little while, before the entire thing becomes a bitter sweet memory.

You would steal him away from the party, your hand in his and he would pretend not to see the small wave and smile you and Sirius share on the way out. You would take him to the kitchens, sweet talk the elf’s into making his favourite before leading him out to one of the secret balconies you found in your earlier years to eat it. You wouldn’t ask why he was sad or try to fix it, all you did was ask him silly questions, make him laugh like no one else could, and everything would be okay when you and he were on that balcony

But then you would go back to the party, your boyfriends party, his brothers party, and he would go to bed with the excuse of being tired. He would sit and replay the last hours in his head, pretend it was you he was dating and you stole him away for alone time, but like everything it was swept away when you and Sirius came into the dorm. Both giddy, maybe a little tipsy or perhaps just love drunk on one another.

His heart shattered for the millionth time as he watched you and Sirius kiss, sweet kisses, unable to keep your hands off each other but again in the sweetest way.

The two of you unknowingly crushing his heart further with every step of your silent waltz, illuminated by the moonlight flooding through the break in the curtains

Every time you messed up Sirius would kiss your nose, your cheek, your lips. Whispers of your adoration for the other echoing gently in the room, pretty boy’s and my star’s slipping from your lips, while my girl’s and french words which made you shine brighter than the stars themselves slipping from Sirius’.

The final nail wasn’t the I love you’s that were shared at the end of the dance

It was watching you both get changed into matching oversized shirts you got at your first concert together. How Sirius smiled when you braided his hair for bed. How he took off your makeup for you. And when you were finally in bed, limbs tangled together, your head rested on Sirius' chest while he caressed your back, it was how effortless the domesticity of it all was with the two of you.

That's what killed him, the quiet actions that showed you and Sirius were forever, made for each other, soulmates even

You slipped off first, a smile on your face as your cheek was cutely squished against his chest. James always loved the faces you made while sleeping, the little scrunches of your nose, the hums.

His eyes flicked upwards to Sirius and merlin did James wish he could lie, say he could love you, look at you with more love than Sirius could ever fathom but that was simply not true. Sirius looked at you like you were his entire being, so content with you in his arms, so calm, all of his worries forgotten, almost insignificant when you were around

Yet James still let himself imagine he was Sirius, that you and he were on that path. The one that led him to spend his life with you. The one that was the kind of fairytales, where he fell for his best friend and she loved him back, that he was the one to confess, that he hadn’t let his fear of ruining things stop him

It was then Sirius met James’ gaze and the guilt of his dream set in. Sirius gave him a smile, one he returned with the same trick he used on you earlier, thankful for the dark as it meant Sirius would believe this one

“Hey” his friend greets quietly

“Hey…sorry I wasn't…”

Sirius shakes his head “Don’t be. Your happiness is more important than a silly party”

His words are so genuine it’s like a cut to his heart. A reminder that you and Sirius really loved him, and that’s what made him positive he would never reveal his feelings, why no matter how hard he tried he could never feel anything negative towards you or Sirius for loving one another

“Happy Birthday Pads” he gives him a real smile this time

“Thanks Prongs” Sirius looks down at you for a moment “I might be a little drunk, or maybe it’s the old age...” he chuckles and James finds himself joining him “...but I love you mate, and I don’t thank you enough for everything you've done...hell still do for me”

James knew he was referring to, living with him, giving him clothes, holding him when he cried over leaving Regulus, healing the wounds inflicted by his father and on one heartbreaking occasion by Sirius himself, but for James there was one more thing he did that Sirius would never know

“I love you too” he says nodding, tears welling

Sirius just smiled at him before shuffling down on the bed, holding you that little bit tighter as he settles in to sleep

“Night” he says quietly

“Night” he replies, watching Sirius slip off with a smile equal to yours on his face

James let the tears fall then, shaky breaths as he tried to be quiet

Closure was certainly years away yet somehow the first bit of his heart fused back together, sure it was one of a hundred little pieces but it was a start. Maybe one day he would find his own star like you had, someone who could help rebuild the rest of his heart, someone he would have the courage to tell how he feels before another bet him to it.

But for now, James would cry over his unrequited love for you and what could have been

Thank you for reading and let me know what you thought 💛

[mythos-writes]

could you please do “Don’t touch her. Lay one finger on her and I swear to whatever gods you worship, you’ll meet your ancestors in Hell... and in total shame,” for Polly if you write for her? If Not could you please do this for tommy? I just followed a few weeks ago and haven't been on much!

Mother Bear

Polly Grey x Reader

Plot: Tommy wanted to use (Y/N) in one of his plans, but didn’t tell Polly…

1K Celebration Masterlist HERE [thanks @readingwithrhia for the request:)]

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: This is my first Polly fic, so hopefully it turns out, Angry Polly, Age gap (Polly is 36 and (Y/N) is 27), gunfire and bullet injures.

(Y/N) had always been special to Polly. Ever since they first met on that faithful day at the farmers market, she cared deeply for the younger girl. Polly didn’t trust people easily, due to the circles that she and her nephews run in. But, when Polly started to get to know (Y/N), she felt her walls start to lower. She hasn’t felt like this in such a long time, this close to someone. Polly asked some of the younger Peaky boys to see who (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was and found out that she was working at one of the local bakeries and had no attachments to other gangs or mafias in any other city. 

Soon after this, they became an item not long after they met, and then it wasn’t much longer before one of the boys found them making out in one of the offices in the betting shop. Polly had to explain to them what the relationship was between the two. They seemed unfazed by this information, with Tommy and Arthur making comments about being quieter if they want to have quickies in the office, which caused both women to turn bright red. 

(Y/N) still worked at the local bakery and would bring over some sweets and sandwiches for the betting shop. They always appreciated the little sweetness coming in during the day. Today was no different, she walked in with her trays of sandwiches and sweets for the boys and was going to pay Polly a quick visit, but Tommy had other plans for her today. 

“(Y/N) can you come here for a moment?” Tommy calls out from his office. She walked into his office and saw the three brothers sitting around the small room. 

“What can I do for you three?” she asks. Even though she was younger than Arthur but older than Tommy, they knew if she was treated poorly, they were getting Polly’s wrath. 

“We have an issue, and we need your help with it,” Tommy states, lighting a cigarette.

“What can I help with?” she asks, not knowing what she is getting into. 

“We have some… guests… that are supposed to be stopping by for a discussion, and we need a “female distraction” in the room,” Tommy informs her. 

“What about—” “Polly won’t have to know,” Tommy cuts her off before she can get out her full worry. 

“Alright, if you say so,” she replies, jumping feet first into their world, leaving her once innocent one behind.

A couple of days late, it was the day for the meeting. She let Polly that she wasn’t feeling well that day so she wouldn’t be around. Polly tried to come over during the day but she quickly shut that down and said that she can come the next day, cause she was sure that she would be feeling better by then. (Y/N) felt so bad for lying to Polly. They never kept secrets from each other, whether they tried to or not. They went to the Garrison, as it would be empty at this time of day.  

“Shelby’s,” a voice bellows in the empty pub. 

(Y/N) had to force herself to not visibly shudder at the men who just walked in. These were the type of men her mother would tell her to stay away from at all costs when she would leave for the day. Their clothes were covered with dirt, sweat, and other liquids that she didn’t want to know what they were in the slightest.

The man pushed her against the wall, chills going up her spine. (Y/N) Even though she agreed to it, she was cursing all three of the Shelby brothers’ names for putting her in this situation. 

The Garrison doors opened again, thinking it was other people for the shit show meeting. But it was someone who they didn’t want here. “(Y/N)?” a shocked voice fills the room. (Y/N) looked around the man and saw Polly standing in the doorframe. 

“Polly,” her small voice whimpers through the room. Before anyone could move, Polly pulled out her pistol and aimed it at the man that had caged her in. 

“Don’t touch her. Lay one finger on her and I swear to whatever gods you worship, you’ll meet your ancestors in Hell... and in total shame,” she threatens. The coldness in her voice made everyone know that she was not bluffing.

“Now. Let. Her. Go,” she orders. The man looked over to Tommy, whose face was still stone cold. He looked back to Polly before letting (Y/N) go. She ran to Polly, but before they could embrace, the sound of gunfire rings in their ears. (Y/N) eye widen when the sharp and painful feeling of a bullet rips through her shoulder.

 Polly dropped her gun to catch her lover, while Tommy shot the man and Arthur and John fought the other lackeys. 

“Hey, hey. You’re going to be ok, yeah. It was just in the shoulder, which is an easy fix ok,” Polly tries to reassure the panicking woman. Tommy rushed over and picked her up. 

“Come on, we got to get this out of her,” he grunts and moves them to the snug behind the bar. They sit her on the table and quickly got to work getting the bullet out. 

“It hurts,” she sobs out as they cut her blouse open to having room to work. 

“I know love, it's going to hurt more before it gets better,” Polly soothes. She hated seeing her lover like this. 

Arthur handed (Y/N) a bottle of spirit and just started to down it like water. Arthur let out a chuckle and commented how ‘they needed to take her to one of their clubs.’ Polly was going to scold him later for that. Eventually, the bullet is fished out. They quickly grab the almost-empty bottle of alcohol and flushed out the wound. Polly clears her tears off (Y/N) cheeks, and kissing along her face, rewarding the young woman. Arthur and Tommy help settle (Y/N) on her feet. Polly came in and took Tommy’s spot beside her. (Y/N) leaned in and placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek. 

“Come on love, let's get you home,” Polly whispers into her ear, walking out of the Garrison, with the boys following close behind.  

[cleolinda]

Sugar, sugar (Pink Sugar, 2004)

(Pink Sugar Amazon store)

Have you ever taken the lid off a sugar bowl and really stuck your nose in there and given it a good huff? There's a texture to the scent that reminds me a little of sand; I couldn't quite explain it in terms of amber, and I still can't here, but I swear to you, it's an ambient dryness that smells distinctly different from the liquid sucrose of a green hunk of sugar cane. And this is different from powdered sugar (even holding a powdered donut to my nose, I don't smell much), which is different from brown sugar (a touch of molasses that actually smells sticky), which is different from marshmallow (fluffy, slightly vanilla), and incredibly different from caramel (cooked sugar, rich, almost buttery) or praline (nutty, possibly creamy) or cotton candy (vanilla + strawberry/raspberry). What I like about a good sugar perfume is the nuance of the type of sugar, the character that is something beyond the literal sweet—and this is itself entirely different from the floral nuances of a honey perfume, which I also love.

Ideally, you'd apply a sugar perfume with a light hand, so that the nuances will blend with the scent of your skin and become A Secret Third Thing. If you're traipsing around smelling like a candy shop, you—well, I won't say you're doing it wrong, but that's not what I'm advocating for here.

Let's rewind a moment to that sugar cane I mentioned. Demeter Fragrance's single note Sugar Cane was the first scent of theirs that I tried, partly because I wanted to know what the hell they'd done to win two FiFi Awards with it. Demeter prides itself as a company on their Proustian sensory experiences (which is why they have scents like Crayon, Dirt, Paperback, and, uh, Fuzzy Balls), but they could not have known that Sugar Cane would take me back specifically to preschool. I have an incredibly vague memory of standing on a (dirt? paved?) road among the other kids on a field trip to a farmer's market, holding a four-inch chunk of freshly-cut sugar cane. I have no idea how we ended up there or if the preschool even got our parents' permission (it was 1983, a lawless time), but I do remember gnawing on this green hunk of cane, and my mom remembers me bringing it home. (She did not seem the least bit bothered that I'd been off who knows where chewing on produce, because it was 1983.) Everything is vague but for the olfactory memory: Demeter's Sugar Cane really, truly has that fresh-cut, not "vegetal" or even "green," exactly, but that ineffable sense of a juicy plant that is not yet dried and crumbled and cubed. It's lovely, and I wore it off and on for years.

Another favorite sugar perfume of mine is Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's Sugar Skull ("A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits"), a seasonal offering. As time has gone on, my 2004 bottle has taken on a richer brown-sugar tone, but it actually started out with that whiff of dry sugar bowl. I'm not sure what the fruits are supposed to be, but I might guess plum and strawberry, like the sugar-dusted strawberry candies I used to get in my childhood Christmas stocking. Which means that I might guess something like Furaneol is involved: "Intense caramel and fruity note, reminiscent of cotton candy. Indispensable ingredient for strawberry, pineapple and exotic fruity accords. Often used to bring a jam effect. Naturally found in coffee, malt, grape, guava, pineapple, raspberry, strawberry." I tried Sugar Skull on the other day for this post, and while the fruit accord comes out more distinctly now, the perfume itself is still fairly subtle, a restrained golden sweetness that hangs back rather than yell at top volume.

No, top volume would be Pink Sugar.

In my experience, ethyl maltol (the caramel/praline note you may remember from last week's Mugler Angel) might be strong when it's fresh, but it's Godzilla when it's aged. My bottle of Pink Sugar (maybe 2007?) has also turned from clear to brown, which might be the vanillin. I would be willing to bet there's a strong dollop of furaneol in this thing as well, and the musk isn't helping; all together, I remember being like, "Let's give it a lil spray, see if it's still good," and having to evacuate the room. The powdery candy musk cloud, my GOD. So for this post, I went and ordered a fresh decant (for the princely sum of $0.99 USD), so I could at least see what Pink Sugar's ideal state is, and also I could control it with a tiny wand cap.

A couple of swipes, and this, this is why I liked Pink Sugar back in my twenties. I'll say up front that, these days, the Italian company Aquolina doesn't seem to have much of an internet presence anymore, except for a pinksugar.it site that mostly exists to redirect you to the Pink Sugar Amazon store (and a US Instagram that redirects to Macy's). So I had to dig a little to get the creator(s)' name and the full list of notes: raspberry, orange, fig leaf, bergamot, cotton candy, licorice, red berries, strawberry, lily of the valley, caramel, vanilla, musk, tonka bean, sandalwood.

Secondly, I'll quote two other reviews from people with sharper noses than I have:

Bois de Jasmin:

On a technical level, Pink Sugar is a clever thing, and I find it impressive how its creator, Pierre Nuyens, chose to offset the dessert extravaganza with plenty of sharp citrus, tart berries and crunchy anise seeds. The drydown of musk and sandalwood is like a sprinkling of confectioner’s sugar on warm brioche. Its softness offers a respite after the burnt caramel overload. It’s a long lasting, tenacious fragrance and a little goes a long way.

[I'll note here that I have seen Pink Sugar credited to either Pierre Nuyens or Shyamala Maisondieu of Givaudan, and I don't know what's with the discrepancy. Are we possibly talking about old and new formulations?]

Now Smell This:

Pink Sugar opens on an extraordinarily sweet blend of fruit and caramelized sugar. There is a hint of citrus, but the red berries dominate the first 15 minutes or so. If you love the smell of strawberry candy, the top notes may well be your idea of heaven; I'm afraid it is not mine. [...] There is lots of vanilla sugar, a teensy little whiff of licorice, and a pale, woody-musky base with a hint of powder. It is, as advertised, very reminiscent of cotton candy.

That mention of "offsetting the dessert extravaganza" is similar to the logic that Olivier Cresp and Yves de Chirin used with Angel: it was so unexpected in 1992 to build a fragrance around ethyl maltol that they balanced it with a tornado of patchouli so intense that I can't smell a single other damn thing in it, other than some fruit in the first ten minutes. But by the time Pink Sugar came along in 2004, truly, nobody gave a shit. Trying to balance candy with more candy is, if we are honest, just the slightest gesture towards optimizing your Eau de Toothache (I say this lovingly). There's a reason that Angel is considered a Hall of Famer and Pink Sugar is something people generally scoff at.

So I open my new sample, and I brace myself. The current decant opens with, yes, a pretty strong citrus to immediately counterbalance the sugar. And yet, while I said that Dior's new Joy has a "vanilla lemonade" feel, that's not the kind of sugar + lemon we have going on here. There are several things going on, including some kind of musk, but mostly, my nose can't distinguish what they are; "it's very well-blended" is what you say when you can't figure that out. I'll also say that I couldn't perceive strawberry, or even strawberry candy (no matter how much I love it), in all this; what I get is Cotton Candy™. I remember how surprised I was to find out that the traditional flavor of American cotton candy is just vanilla, often with some strawberry if it's pink, and definitely with raspberry if it's blue. Cotton candy is just A Thing Unto Itself to me (ask me how shocked I was to find out that yellow cake mix is just vanilla. Mm, tastes like yellow), and that's mostly what I smell in Pink Sugar. A specific whiff of caramel emerged about two hours in, but that was the best my nose could do.

Four hours in, as I sat drafting this post with Pink Sugar on the back of my hand, the citrus notes had evaporated, and I was getting just that cotton candy—but dry and fluffy, on a floating bed of musk, not a sticky, just-melted-in-your-mouth, washed-by-a-confused-raccoon note. So the first hour is when Pink Sugar is most interesting to me. And I'm gonna tell you—I can't distinguish fig leaf or lily of the valley or even sandalwood in this thing, but I get something in that first hour that I haven't seen anyone else mention: something shadowy.

There's something sultry about Pink Sugar early on to me, and that may be the combination of licorice and musk, going by the notes listed. (You'd think I could pick out licorice after two posts about it, but not specifically in Pink Sugar, no.) You're at the cotton candy stand, sure, but there are dark clouds gathering overhead. For some reason, Johnny Jewel's "Windswept" popped into my head—something noirishly forlorn. The fairground is closing at the end of summer, the boardwalks are empty; up in the late afternoon sky, something watchful and gray is rolling in.

And this stage does pass. But that first hour, that's the interesting stage, the part where I get why "counterbalancing the toothache" is such an important consideration. I also have Demeter Fragrance's Cotton Candy single note (does what it says on the tin), and sometimes a simple sugar is what you want. But if someone could actually cook up Film Noir Cotton Candy Stand, combining two things you would pretty much never think to put together, you would have a story on your hands. Pink Sugar has that for about an hour—except for the fact that I think I must be hallucinating it, because I've never seen a review where anyone ever accused Pink Sugar of having one iota of depth to it, much less darkness.

That's the thing about fragrance: it's so wholly dependent on what your own nose can pick up and how it interacts with your own chemistry, as opposed to anyone else's. I could hold out my hand thirty minutes in and say "SMELL IT. SMELL THE FILM NOIR," as you do, and it might be that no one else would smell anything "sultry" or "gray" or "forlorn" in Pink Sugar at all. You ever have that Super Deep Thought that maybe nobody sees color the same way, and maybe what's orange to you is blue to someone else? With fragrance, that might be a little bit true.

The other thing I've realized is that most people smell a perfume on you after you've been wearing it a while—people at work or a party or wherever you actually left the house to go, they'd mostly smell the base notes and maybe a few mid notes of your fragrance by the time you got there. (Unless you're reapplying it frequently. I... do not advocate for that.) Everything I find interesting about Pink Sugar would have faded by the time anyone smelled it on me, leaving just a vague aura of musky sweet. I'd actually love to smell a fragrance made of all the notes that aren't cotton candy: Pink Sugar Without Sugar.

I'll end by pointing out that I started with a nostalgic story about preschool and sugar—and a different fragrance. Most people reviewing Pink Sugar mention nostalgia as part of its appeal, but it doesn't evoke memory for me at all, and I think that's because the musk is so strongly present for me all the way through. I will argue, though, that the Secret Third Thing it comes up with is more sophisticated than people give it credit for.

Perfume discussion masterpost

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Harley Quinn X FemWerewolf!Reader Angsty, Cute and Fluffy Prompt

• Occurs after the events of the second film (Birds of Prey - 2020)

• Linked to some of the previous prompts that I have written + posted

• There will be more!

!TW: Mention of previously being experimented on + being in prison, implied near-death experience(s), mention of previously being tortured + manipulated, nudity, mention of previously being held captive as a hostage + elements of currently being held captive, hint of being somewhat traumatised/elements of PTSD + anxious/elements of anxiety + separation anxiety + depression, hint of previously being gaslit and brainwashed, implied previously being abused (by family member + others), mention of previous act(s) of violence, some self-putting down, having stitches + injury detail (having a wound + cuts + bruises), hints of self-doubt, swearing, having a nightmare, mention of blood + violence + unconsciousness/being sedated!

It had been a year since you had been presumed to be dead after being experimented on in prison, and a year since Harley had escaped from it, not sure what else to do, especially since Flag had told her that you were gone, though he’d promised to not let the experiments go too far. A lot had happened during that painful year - after you’d stirred the next day, after Harley had escaped from prison again, you had escaped in an attempt to find her, but would soon be caught by the remainder of the late Sionis’ goons, as well as Omegas who had been working with them, and they would each torture you every night, as well as use a strange-looking black liquid to brainwash you, and force you to get involved in fights which they would all bet on for their own entertainment and purposes of improving their own wealthy situations.

You were curled up, naked, in the corner of a dark room after Harley and the Birds of Prey had found you; she’d decided to seek them out for their help upon finding out that the late Sionis’ goons were currently keeping you held captive in their own secret base, which they had - somehow easily - managed to infiltrate, and burn down after they’d gotten you out of it, though you’d been trying to fight back against them as you had still had some of the black liquid in your system at the time.

You would jolt a little within the room they’d set up for you within the Birds of Prey’s new base, upon hearing the door being unlocked, and would falter as soon as Harley’s sweet scent would reach your nostrils, prompting the tears which had been lingering within your darker than usual eyes to escape, and slowly run down your cheeks; you had thought that she’d abandoned you, or had been made to think that way, when really she’d tried to find you after Deadshot had helped her get out of her cell, but when it became evident that you were being hidden, and that her and his own absence were growing to be noticeable, he would rush her out, determined not to be captured again, no matter what it would mean for him if he somehow was.

“Hey,” she cooed, before closing the door gently behind her; she could see that you were tense, and evidently anxious, and didn’t want to scare you, especially after what you’d had to go through, before she and the others had found you, but you wouldn’t respond, prompting her heart to sink a little; she’d regretted letting Deadshot rush her out of the prison like that ever since it had happened, and wished that she’d somehow stayed for longer; if she’d found you, you wouldn’t have had to go through this, “I - I thought you’d be thirsty, so..” She would then timidly crouch down beside you, prompting you to wince, and hide your face from her; you were worried that you might easily end up giving in to her if you let your gaze meet her’s, when you felt as if you should hate her for supposedly abandoning you, like the goons had told you she had, except you didn’t hate her, at all; you still loved her more than anything, and found you couldn’t blame her - at all - for what had happened to you. “Do you think you can keep water down?” She inquired, but achieved only more silence from you, and she would then set the glass down, prompting you to scowl a little over at it; you thought maybe she’d done something to it, and would then falter again; you couldn’t believe you were even thinking that she could ever do something like that to you, and the thought dejected you, resulting in you beginning to appear crestfallen, and as if you were empty, and had nothing left again.

“Take it away,” you mustered feebly in a raspy, and no doubt rusty voice; you’d not spoken in a little while, and she couldn’t bear to hear it; she hated being reminded of what they’d done to you, and of how she might have been able to find you if she’d stayed, and not let Deadshot rush her away.

“But-”

“Take it!” You cried, desperate, before taking it up in your shaky and unnaturally pale right hand, and lugging it across the room, prompting it to shatter as soon as it made contact with the cold stone wall opposite you. “A-And leave me alone,” you uttered, before turning away from her awkwardly; it was paining you even to make the smallest of movements; you’d evidently been beaten a lot, and the thought would prompt uninvited and unwelcome tears to invade Harley’s now dim icy blue eyes. You would grimace, hearing anxious whisperings going on outside of the room; the Birds of Prey were evidently listening in on the conversation, and appeared to be worried that you might end up trying to hurt Harley again, like you had managed to when she had tried to get closer to you whilst you were still being affected by the strange black liquid the goons and Omegas had been using on you, except you weren’t now aware of this; that you’d tried to attack her, now that the liquid had fully left your system. You would appear especially crestfallen, for a moment, when you noticed that she was evidently nervous, and even trembling a little as she avoided eye contact with you, prompting your heart to begin to ache again excruciatingly. “You’re scared,” you mused, “go out there to your friends-”

“No,” she interrupted, and you would pry your gaze from her’s again before you could easily get lost in her eyes like you had been previously dangerously close to doing, “I’m staying right here; I’m not leaving you again, ever. I’ll even sleep in here if I have to, until they let you out, and let you join me in the room they set up for me.”

You would be surprised, not expecting this reaction from her. “You.. want to actually.. stay in here with me?” You inquired, and she would nod hastily, certain of herself.

“I’d stay anywhere with you,” she expressed, and you would frown, wondering why she was appearing to care about you all of a sudden, after you’d been told that she’d left you for dead without even trying to help you escape with her.

“Harley,” Renee hissed, after opening the door a little, and Harley would begrudgingly look over at her, whilst you growled quietly, and tried to move further back into the makeshift cell they’d put you in; they didn’t trust you, like Harley did. “You can’t stay in here with her-”

“I can, and I will-”

“No,” she retorted, but Huntress would interrupt her before she could continue.

“Maybe we should just let her out,” she suggested, shocking both Renee and Canary as they looked back at her, looking anxious as well as frustrated, “she seems different, now; she isn’t trying to attack any of us-”

“She would if we got closer,” Renee contradicted, prompting Harley to shake her head gravely whilst you would appear disheartened again; though you saw yourself as a monster, you hated being treated like one, and kept in cells, or even being beaten like the goons had done to you, as well as being used in fights and bet on.

“She’s not like that,” Harley defended, and you would glance up at her through your sore, dim, and tearful gaze, “come in, and you’ll see; they were using something on her, and she didn’t recognise me-”

“I’ll do it,” Huntress offered, since the others seemed to be opposed to the idea, before she stepped forward into the room confidently, and you would tense up, until you could feel that Harley was using her left hand to stroke your hair, relaxing you in an instant, and making you feel safer than you had, before, to the point you didn’t feel threatened, at all, whilst being approached by Huntress. Once she was satisfied that you were now trustworthy, she would turn to face the others alongside Harley, whose hand was still entangled within your hair blissfully. “See-? I think that’s all we need to know that she won’t try and attack us again,” Huntress stated, and both Renee and Canary still seemed unsure, but knew they were outnumbered in their doubts, so they would begrudgingly give in, and allow Huntress and Harley to remove the chains which had been binding you within the cell, as well as effectively allowing you to be able to move freely around their base, worrying them further, but they soon found themselves more worried about Harley than they had, before; you were evidently tense and still a little doubtful of her intentions with you, and it set them on edge.

🜚

At first, you’d refused to stay in Harley’s room with her, unsure of what you should feel, or think anymore, until you found yourself terrified, alone in the spare room the Birds of Prey had set up for you, beside Harley’s, and you would soon rush into her room during the early hours of the morning, startling her, but she would relax instantly when she recognised you, prompting you to tilt your head a little; you thought she would appear nervous, at least, but she just seemed to be relieved that you’d decided to seek reassurance from her, instead of one of the others, as she’d been worried that maybe you didn’t feel the same way for her anymore, and wondered if your sudden appearance to her meant that you did. “What are you doing up-?” She inquired, before getting up off of the bed, prompting you to tense up a little whilst you watched her every move, unsure of how to react to each of her movements whilst she slowly approached you, careful not to scare you after everything you’d evidently had to go through, last year. “Get back in bed, little wolfy,” she cooed, “you don’t need, or want to be walking around right now; you could break your stitches, and your wound would-.. y’know.” You would hastily shake your head, before backing away, prompting her to hesitantly stop in her tracks, wondering why you seemed so tetchy again, and if you’d had a nightmare which could have potentially set you off a little. “You need sleep; you won’t get better if you don’t get any-”

“I can’t,” you murmured, your voice close to a whisper, and she would frown, wishing she could do more for you, “I.. I can only sleep if you’re with me.”

She would realise, and a soft smile would begin to play on her lips, whilst you would timidly look away from her, evidently embarrassed at yourself for being so weak. “Then stay in here with me, if you want to-?” She suggested, and you would hesitate, before nodding, and she would lead you slowly over to her bed, helping you lay down on the right side of it once you’d both reached it, as you struggled to move quite a bit, it seemed; you had many bruises and cuts all over your body, and whenever Harley noticed them, she felt a surge of both anger and guilt - anger toward the goons who had done this to you, and guilt toward the fact that she hadn’t done anything to prevent what had happened to you sooner than she had. “Comfortable?” She inquired, and you would nod, avoiding eye contact with her again, prompting her heart to sink further; she hated that things were like this between you and her now, and even began to wonder if you’d been fed lies about her by the goons who had tortured you, which you had been - unbeknownst to her - constantly; they’d often tried to convince you that she was one of your enemies, when that was far from being true. “Good,” she replied, before laying down beside you, and you would try and hide your face from her, whilst she would silently beg you to meet her gaze; she was desperate to fix things with you again.

You would occasionally appear to inch closer to her for warmth, and comfort, especially whenever you found yourself thinking you’d heard something outside, startling you and setting you on edge again, like you had been whenever you heard footfalls approaching outside of your cell - the ones which often meant that you were about to be beaten again, experimented on, or made to fight an Omega to entertain the goons and Omegas who weren’t fighting you, or cursing you. “There’s - There’s something outside again,” you whispered shakily, whilst she tried to inch closer to you, this time, desperate to cradle you close to her like she had done many times before after you’d been beaten by your father, or had woken up after having a nightmare, “you.. you won’t leave me this time, right? Unless - Unless it’s something y-you’re gonna use to try and kill me; put me out of my misery-”

“No,” she whined; she couldn’t believe you’d think that she would try and do that to you, or leave you again - two things she would never forgive herself for if she did somehow end up doing them, “just-.. just go to sleep, Nugget.” She would then carefully intertwine the fingers of her left hand with your hair again, soothing you more than you thought possible, and you even found yourself staring into her eyes, and getting lost within them so blissfully easily; you’d missed being with her like you were, now. “I promise I’ll - I’ll still be here when you wake up,” she tried to reassure you, “I love you so much, Y/n, a-and I’m sorry, I really am-.. I should have kept looking for you, b-but Deadshot - he rushed me out before I could get any closer to finding you.”

You would grimace, before shaking your head, and carefully removing her hand from your hair, worrying her whilst she found herself silently begging you to trust her again. “You’re still lying to me,” you uttered, appearing dejected, and she would shake her head quickly, but you would continue before she could protest, “y’know.. the thought of losing you terrifies me - I guess.. I guess I should have known that you could never feel the same way, considering I’m a monster; a freak - nothing compared to you - how could someone as perfect as you love a nobody like me?”

“You’re nothing short of perfect yourself,” she contradicted, “what - what did those assholes tell you? Because I guarantee that everything they said was bullshit; I’ve never lied to you, Y/n - I could never lie to you, a-and if you still don’t believe that I love you, and did try and find you, l-let me try - at least - to prove to you that I do; that I’ve always loved you, and always will.”

You would think about it for a moment, before reluctantly nodding. “You can try,” you mustered, and she would express relief, before nodding a little whilst she beamed over at you, her eyes glinting, prompting your heart to skip a few beats, and you to forget how to breathe for a moment; you always found yourself reacting this way whenever she smiled at you like she was, now.

“Let’s see,” she mused, “c-can I start by-.. maybe-.. snuggling up with you, or-?” You would appear nervous, but try and hide it from her whilst you nodded, and managed a faint smile back at her, prompting her own smile to grow a little more whilst she slowly wrapped her arms around you, easing you closer to her, and you would soon grow overwhelmed, but as soon as you began to drown in her sweet scent, you would relax again, to the point you felt as if you could return the embrace, whilst you buried your face into the crook of her neck. “Do you need anything? I’ll get you anything you need, I promise,” she cooed, and you would be surprised, as well as flattered by how she seemed to be so willing to help you, and take care of you, “anything - just tell me if you do, and I’ll get it.”

“You’re doing too much for me, now,” you remarked, and she would scoff, before shaking her head; she believed she wasn’t doing enough for you, “I’m okay, please don’t worry about me anymore; you need sleep, too.”

“I don’t-”

“You do,” you contradicted gently, “you look exhausted, Quinzels - please try and get some sleep for me.”

She would hesitate, before begrudgingly nodding, though she was determined to stay awake for you. “Fine,” she gave in, or at least you thought she did, “I’ll try, but only after you have gotten to sleep, yourself.”

You would wince, but try not to protest against her; you didn’t want to upset her after everything she’d already been through today. “Good,” you replied, before timidly connecting your forehead to her’s, “Q-Quinzels, I.. I love you, too, a-and I’m so sorry; I should never have believed anything they told me-”

“No,” she interjected softly; she didn’t want you to feel as if you should have to apologise for what had happened to you, “don’t apologise, little wolfy; I should be the one apologising to you-”

“N-No, don’t-”

She would hastily, but delicately then connect her lips to your’s to silence you, and you would instantly melt into the kiss, whilst feeling warm and fuzzy, and whilst your fangs subconsciously began to unfold, but you would manage to keep yourself together, and not to lose control though the wolf within you was beginning to scratch at the surface excruciatingly. Once the kiss had sadly been broken, you would wear a dazed expression on your face whilst you began to find yourself lost in her eyes again. “I’m so sorry, Y/n,” she whispered, before lifting her left hand up to your right cheek, prompting you to melt into her touch, “I should have tried harder to get to you, o-or found you sooner, I know I should; I feel awful..”

“What matters is that we’re here together, now,” you reminded her, and she would smile lovingly over at you again, before nodding in agreement with you.

“And we’ll never lose one another again,” she added, before connecting her lips to your’s once more, and then resting the right side of her head on the space above your’s, “goodnight, little wolfy.”

“N-Night, Quinzels,” you returned timidly, before hesitantly letting your eyes close, and she would - though she’d told you she would try and get some sleep, herself - force herself to stay awake, and was immensely glad that she had, shortly after this moment had passed.

🜚

You soon found yourself being trapped within a nightmare like you usually did every night, now, and Harley would be desperately trying to wake you up whilst she cradled you close to her again, and shook your shoulders a little, like she had done all those times before.

•

“Y/n,” a familiar voice cooed, and you would growl softly, before feebly lifting your heavy head so your blurry and clouded vision could land on the figure rushing toward you, startling you as you snarled, and lunged forward, but the chain binding you to the wall would tug you back, prompting the figure to stop, and quickly draw back a little before they could get their face scratched. “Y/n, it’s me!” The figure cried; you were currently in your wolf form, and had recently been injected with the strange black liquid, meaning you were half-blinded, and made more aggressive whilst it was in your system, and that you didn’t recognise Harley, even when her scent was lingering blissfully within your nostrils. “It’s Harley - o-or Harleen, remember-?” She pried, sounding desperate for you to recognise her, but you appeared to still not. “Y/n, please-”

“Careful, Harley,” Renee warned, but Harley wouldn’t listen, slowly approaching again, prompting you to growl again, whilst you dug your claws a little into the ground, leaving marks.

She would then notice that your right side was bleeding, and the skin around the collar on your neck was sore, prompting her to wince, and scowl a little; she couldn’t believe the goons had hurt you like that, and wished she’d gotten to you sooner. “You’re bleeding out, little wolfy,” she cooed, and you would huff, before beginning to bare your teeth again, “please, let me help you-”

She would then inch closer, and you would snap again, before lunging forward. “Harley, move!” Canary shouted, but you would manage to pry the chain from the wall, and knock her down onto the ground, allowing you to clamp down on her right shoulder, prompting her to cry out in pain, but not for long - Huntress soon managed to sedate you with one of her darts, and you would then collapse, soon falling unconscious, and it was then that you would wake up.

Once you’d finally been woken up by Harley, you would find yourself crying, and shaking violently within her embrace, whilst she tried to soothe you by cooing sweet nothings to you, but you wouldn’t be consoled, especially when you were reminded of how you’d hurt her in the nightmare. “It’s okay, Nugget,” Harley continued gently, and you would shake your head, wondering why she wasn’t mad at you, or afraid of you after you’d hurt her like that, “it was just a nightmare-”

“Don’t lie to me,” you whined, and she would begin to appear worried, as you had managed to hurt her the day before, but she knew that you couldn’t have been in control of yourself; you’d never hurt her like that before, ever, “s-show me your right shoulder.”

She would falter, and your blood would begin to run colder than usual; you could tell she was longing to hide it from you; that you had hurt her. “I can’t-”

“So I did hurt you, didn’t I?” You murmured shakily, whilst tears began to threaten to escape your eyes, but Harley wouldn’t answer, instead simply bowing her head; she couldn’t let her own tearful gaze meet your’s. “Please show me,” you begged, and she would hesitate, before lifting her right sleeve with her left hand, until it was uncovering her currently bandaged right shoulder, and you would tense up as soon as you noticed it, whilst your tears began to slowly race down your pale cheeks. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise,” you mustered, before easing her closer to you, and burying your face into the bandage, prompting her to wince a little; you were applying some pressure onto it, when you didn’t need to anymore; it had evidently already been treated.

“It’s fine, now,” she tried to reassure you, lifting her left hand up to the back of your head, and you would hesitantly nod gravely; you could see it had already been treated, but were terrified that something might happen to it, “don’t worry about it anymore-”

“Let me clean it-”

“What? No-”

“If it doesn’t get cleaned, it’s gonna get infected,” you explained, whilst trying not to panic, and lose control of yourself again, “please, Quinzels - let me clean it for you.”

She would find herself struggling to fight back her own tears, now; you looked so frightened, all of a sudden, and she couldn’t take it; it was paining her to see you like this. “You’re getting worse, and I hate it,” she mused, and you would falter, before nodding gravely, and looking away from her whilst your heart began to ache excruciatingly, “but.. I suppose-.. you have to get worse to get better, right?”

You would shrug, and she would smile sadly over at you, before wrapping her arms around you, and you would be surprised again. “You don’t-.. hate me, for hurting you like that-?” You inquired, and she would shake her head; she could never hate you, because she loved you too much to.

“Of course I don’t,” she answered, “besides - you didn’t mean to do it; they did something to you to make you like that, I’m sure they did.”

You would nod faintly, whilst thinking about the syringes the goons had often brought in to use on you. “I remember they-.. would always bring in these syringes with some sort of black liquid inside of them,” you mused, prompting Harley to grimace; she hated that they’d used you like that, as if you were simply just one of their weapons, “I don’t even remember what happened when you found me, unless..”

“Don’t think about it,” she advised gently, “it’s in the past now, little wolfy, and don’t worry - we’re never gonna lose each other again, and nor will I ever love you any less than I do now, and always will.”

You would manage a weak smile up at her, before you leaned forward a little to delicately connect your lips to her’s, and she would smile against them, whilst wrapping her arms around you again. “I - I love you, and I always will, too,” you returned, your voice close to a whisper, and she would beam over at you, prompting your heart to skip a beat, and blood to rush to your cheeks, prompting her to giggle; she could see, though it was dark within the room, that you were now blushing.

“You’re adorable,” she remarked, flustering you even further, and even prompting you to whine a little whilst you buried your face into the crook of her neck, “hey - if you’re still up for it, I could let you change my bandage for me, if you wanted to? Would that make you feel better?”

“You’d really trust me to do that?” You questioned, and she would grin, before nodding, and appearing certain, though a mischievous glint was forming in her stunning icy blue eyes.

“I’d more than trust you to,” she expressed, “what - do you think you can’t do it?”

You would wince, before hastily shaking your head, whilst she fought back a giggle, and smirked over at you. “No,” you claimed, “I - I’ve - I’ve changed one before.”

“Good, you won’t need me to teach you, then,” she replied, before getting up out of the bed, and helping you out of it alongside her, “will you?”

“Well,” you would murmur, whilst avoiding eye contact with her, and she would lift a skeptical eyebrow, before tilting her head partially, “I - might - need some assistance.”

“I knew it,” she responded, and you would scoff, whilst she found herself giggling again, prompting you to join her shortly after; her laugh was blissfully infectious and always had been, ever since you’d first met her, “don’t worry - I’m something of an expert.” She would then lead you out of her room slowly, careful not to move too fast just in case it would cause you pain to do so, and then into the bathroom where she helped you change the bandages on her right shoulder, and might have carefully fooled around a little with you whilst the members of the Birds of Prey and Cassandra Cane - who you had yet to meet - were all still sleeping peacefully in their own rooms.

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed it! ❤️

[chilei-writes-weewoo]

apparently i got possessed by some dead author or something and wrote. yes for honkai star rail fight me. yanqing this time because i love the little man

every time he smiles - oh that warm and soft smile, like spring sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead - i feel something shift inside of my body. it’s almost like leaves unfurling after a particularly cruel winter, or flowers blooming from a refreshing spring rain in my chest. it’s like worms unearthing during heavy rain in autumn, or the lone plum blossoms enduring a heavy snow storm. it makes no sense to me, but i dont mind.

his smile is captivating in a way a child’s smile is captivating: there is no self-consciousness, no hidden secrets. when i see him smile, i get the urge to smile with him, despite the fact that my smile could never even hope to achieve the radiance of his. i’ve seen him smile at the seemingly ever stoic Master Diviner and get her to smile, slightly, but a smile is a smile. i swear to the Aeons, wherever they are, his smile could soften anyone’s heart.

he’s frequently busy, constantly training with his swords, but he never complains. when i sometimes manage to find him, he actually looks like he’s enjoying it. these times he always spots me, no matter how hard i try to blend in with the bushes, and gives me one of the warmest smiles i’ve seen; his cheeks are slightly flushed from exerting himself during training; his eyes reflect the sunlight, making them look like little ponds of liquid gold; a few small, glistening drops of sweat sliding down his chin and forehead; and his lips curl into a sweet smile that even rivals the sun’s radiance and warmth. i never bring a camera with me when i go looking for him, but i’m starting to think i should. not that i expect the camera to be able to capture the moment as well as my eyes see it happening, but i have to try. at least once.

his smile is the best after i ruffle his hair. his face scrunches up slightly as a small giggle escapes his lips. he always tries to act disgruntled afterwards as he turns away from me to smooth his hair back into place, grumbling about how i messed up his hair, but i manage to catch a glimpse of a small smile. i dont know why he’s deemed it necessary to hide it from me, but i dont find it necessary to think too hard about these things.

if his smile is already radiant, then i’m afraid i’m out of words to describe his laugh. it’s like a dewdrop at the break of dawn, when the sunlight is the colour of harvest-ready barley fields, and the air smells of a cold night meeting the warm morning sun. it’s like a small stream rippling down a mountainside as the oncoming spring melts the heaps of snow gathered on tree branches. it’s like walking on the beach while holding your shoes in your hand as the sea laps at your ankles, watching the sun set below the horizon and painting the waves with a golden path to an endless journey.

his laugh is energizing, like taking a dive into the half frozen lake in the middle of the winter. it’s like taking a stroll in autumn while it’s storming like the end of the world is approaching. when i hear his laugh i want to take his smaller hand into mine and run through the town. his laugh makes me want to have a sparring match with him, or even the general himself. i would fight the Aeons themselves to hear him laugh.

his smile, and laugh for that matter, wouldnt be complete without his eyes. his eyes, wide and accepting, curious in their own way, reflecting the colour of the sun as if it was their own. his eyes are the most beautiful in the mornings when the sun rises, golden rays peeking just above the foggy horizon. a close second would be when the sun sets, warmth of a long day slowly giving way to the cool of night, as the moon rises as a pale mirror for the sun to shine upon the streets even at night. during these fleeting moments, his eyes are the most beautiful. maybe just because it’s so fleeting and momentary. maybe because i only get to see one of these moments in a day, sometimes neither.

without the warmth in his eyes, his smile wouldnt be nearly as lovely as it is. i remember once as he was taking a break from training and taking a stroll with me through the streets, someone flew a kite into my face. as i struggled to untangle the toy from my hair, i could only hear him laugh. i managed to lift the kite slightly, to see the bottom half of his face. as radiant as his smile was, and as bright as his laugh sounded, i felt that it was missing something crucial. lifting the kite a little more (and probably tearing out a few strands of my hair), i see his eyes, scrunched up in laughter, small teardrops gathering at the corners of his eyes. instantly, i feel that the picture is complete in my head.

it’s not only his smile that’s radiant; it’s him as a whole: personality, mannerisms, actions, speech patterns, and - of course - his smile. he’s still a child, but i can see him growing up to a wonderful adult with many fawning over him, young and old. ah, that reminds me, i should probably check in with the conductor, see if i can manage to convince them to come back in a few years. i’d love to watch him grow up, but duty calls. i really should take a picture before we leave.

[day0walkersdrafts]

kinktober day five - restraint

“Goin’ to think you have a crush on me, Wolffe.”

Xavier peels away the gauze from his lip and looks up. Benji seems to have waited for that exact moment to snap the black glove down on his hand and the echo of it sits inside Xavier’s chest, heavy. He stands there, infirmary lights bright against his inky black stain of a silhouette. Benji hadn’t joined them out on the field for this recon mission gone fucking wrong, so he’s not fully tac’d. Shame. But he has that dark cotton shirt, stretching across his chest, his biceps. Keeps his camo pants military tucked into the tops of his boots and those fit just as nice around his thighs.

There’s a moment of pure absolute annoyance and hate that Xavier recognizes Benji’s done something different with his hair. Pulled it back, so it doesn’t fall around his face as much—but black curls have escaped here and there. They make him look boyish and sweet.

Xavier licks his lip, out of habit, or because there’s blood all over his face—regrets it, either way. He winces and that small show of pain makes Benji step forward. The sound of his heavy combat boots is loud. Pressing.

“If you fuck with me tonight, I’m going to actually hurt you,” Xavier swears, muffling himself with the gauze pad. He presses it down tight against the slash across the corner of his lips, the pain making his head go light. Good. It keeps him focused around the medic—he needs focus. On anything other than that one curl that keeps brushing Benji’s eyebrow, teasing him. He knows how much I like his hair. He knew I’d be here after the fight.

“Promise?” Benji practically pouts the word as he takes another step closer.

“Fuck you.”

He slips his hand around Xavier’s wrist. The fact that it’s light and not a hard yank, is what disarms Xavier enough that he’s pliable and easily moved. That’s what he tells himself anyway. Benji gets his hand away from his face to reveal the new wound that’ll likely scar something disgusting. Xavier keeps trying not to think of it, trying not to imagine what he’ll look like with something so garish and cruel.

Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe if he looked a little uglier things would be easier.

“Coulda waited for Rodriguez—wanted my attention bad enough you caught an enemy Ka-Bar to the face?” Benji uses his other hand to tilt Xavier’s head back, presses it to his forehead to keep him where he wants him. His eyes have gone flinty and dark, like a birds. Xavier knew that wounds were a special interest for Benji. Had caught him, on more than one occasion flicking through patient files to look at ones he didn’t personally treat.

“Wasn’t on my best behavior,” Xavier mutters and then feels the heavy oily cold settle in his stomach. He wants to backtrack the statement immediately, because that was Tillman’s phrase for it. A mission went wrong, or someone fucked up, things went FUBAR or someone died. They weren’t on their best behavior, Tillman would say, in his southern drawl. It was such a well known phrase on base that some people used it as a joke—Xavier didn’t. Sometimes it felt branded into his skin.

Benji’s eyes move from the wound up to Xavier’s. It isn’t often Xavier can discern what’s happening behind the medic’s eyes. They are liquid dark and constantly changing, the most beautiful shade of brown he’s ever looked at, especially when light hits them in a certain way—but they rarely ever tell Benji’s secrets. Now isn’t an exception. They’ve changed somehow, but Xavier can’t figure out what that means. Green or red flag, danger or not. His hands shake a little bit.

Then Benji’s finger presses against the slash on his mouth and Xavier’s entire body flinches. The pain explodes immediate, hot and white inside his head and across his face, which had slowly started to numb. He’d started to grow used to that pain and had already filed it away. His hands reach up and snatch at Benji’s waist as he stands in front of him, eyes narrowed to angry, hot slits.

“I’m not fuckin’ kidding, Benji—”

“It needs a butterfly stitch, s’all.” Benji cups Xavier’s cheek and that gesture is so oddly soothing that it makes him deflate. His hands aren’t grabbing any longer, but holding on. He’s sitting there, head tilted back to stare up at the rotten medic, dried blood crusting over his mouth and chin, and thinking, thank you.

Benji’s thumb touches the wound again and makes Xavier jerk away.

“Dickhead,” he seethes, slumping in the chair as the medic turns toward his supplies. For just an instant—so quick that he could only be imagining it, seeing things he wants to see, or making things up because of the pain, Benji has a smile on his face that is softer. That’s just amused, instead of dangerous and sick. But it’s gone so quick that Xavier has to admit, it likely wasn’t ever there at all.

—

The whole procedure takes less than a minute, because Benji is a sick piece of shit, but he’s well trained. No one on base could ever take that from him, no matter how widely disliked he was among others. Or widely liked among some (and Xavier burned at that, a possessive hot coal wedged between his ribs, making him want to close teeth around throats).

It’s the clean up that shocks Xavier, because it’s Benji who does it. He uses a fresh rag, with water and soap. He taps Xavier’s chin with his fingers to make him tilt his head back again and then begins. It’s the most gentle he’s ever been, if the word could even be used to describe Benji. His eyes never stray from his work, never once flick up to meet Xavier’s, who continues staring right at them. Xavier shivers every time he comes close to the wound, but Benji never does more than slowly wash off the dried blood.

When he’s done and the white rag has turned pink, Benji curls fingers into Xavier’s hair. He forces his head to stay just like that, tilted back, staring up.

“Come back later,” Benji says. Later. Alone. After hours. Xavier’s belly floods with heat. The fingers move from his hair, down. They touch his reddened cheekbone, continue further, tap his throat. “Yeah?”

He’s shocked by that, because Benji has a way of being in control. Ordering things happen. Sit, stay, heel. Yeah?

“Yes,” Xavier says in reply, finding his voice breathy.

—

He can’t put together a timeline of how long they’ve been together like this. If together is the right word—it is to Xavier. It feels right, even when it also feels so fucking wrong. But it works in his head; when he thinks of himself and Benji, he thinks together. It doesn’t matter if it’s wrong either, if it’s like two sick dogs in a kennel staring each other down, knowing this is it. They’re still together, in the end. Like a star exploding, sucking in another, right into the black hole so they die at the same time—together.

The funny thing is, they’ve still not fucked.

There’s been opportunity. Xavier comes back to his room sometimes and finds Benji already there, sitting on his bed, leaned back and expectant with a wide slash of a grin. No, they don’t fuck. Benji turns Xavier onto his stomach and does things that make the star explosion metaphor go nuclear. They find each other in empty hallways, or out on the field, covered in blood and keyed up in ways they shouldn’t be (Xavier, shouldn’t be, he shouldn’t like the way their sweat slicked bodies come together when there’s a layer of gore added to it).

But they don’t fuck.

Xavier’s never asked. He thinks sometimes, if he crawled across the bed, if he looked over his shoulder, if he directly told Benji, fuck me, it would happen. But…

Benji’s hands have hurt him plenty—that slap lives in his memory rent fucking free. The cut inside his mouth that healed to a scar, remembers the feel of fingertips prodding, so bad that saliva will pool automatically if he thinks on it. His bruised eye for a solid month took more than a few kisses from Benji that were aimed for pain rather than pleasure. His thumb, earlier that day, digging into the gash in his lip—and yet, when Xavier thinks about it. When he really thinks about it.

Benji would leave him alone, if he ever actually wanted him to. Benji would stop. If Xavier walked into the infirmary, he’d not even need to threaten him, he’d not even need to raise his voice. He’d say, it ends here and now and Benji might pout. Might make that condescending, snide face. Might look lethal and terrifying. But, he’d stop. Xavier knows that, somehow. There is a blanket of safety in realizing that—

Xavier pursues Benji. Wants him. Together. Involved. His choice. Make it hurt, make it feel good after. Xavier’s choice.

So they don’t fuck yet. Because Xavier hasn’t made that choice yet.

—

He is desperately close to that choice now, however.

Xavier breathes heavy, forehead pressed to Benji’s shoulder. His shoulders quiver, his body one tightly clenched muscle. His cock strains against the soft material of his sweatpants—he’d come to the infirmary in his dress down clothes. Benji was still in his military issue pants and shirt. The difference made his mouth dry, head dizzy.

“Good boy,” Benji purrs, making Xavier tremble harder, making him press his forehead harder. Xavier whimpers a bit when a strong, gloved hand takes hold of the zipties holding his hands behind his back. Benji jerks cruelly, making Xavier’s entire body arch—his head falls, his mouth open and panting, wet eyes blinking at the ceiling. He squirms his hips forward so he doesn’t slip from Benji’s lap.

“Look at you,” Benji continues, voice dark and husky. “Had a feelin’ you’d like that, Xavier.” Hearing his name makes him even more supple, his hips lifting and gyrating up in a desperate attempt to make Benji pay attention there to. He doesn’t.

“Fuck you,” Xavier weakly protests, his eyes blinking. He wants to grind back down—the sensation of Benji, hard in his tac pants, was everything. Knowing he was just as aroused, as into this—he can almost imagine being fucked in this position too. Bouncing on Benji, with his hands tied behind his back, looking down into those gorgeous, cruel eyes. But this is fucking fun, he can’t pretend it isn’t.

He continues thrusting his hips back and forth, grinding himself down as hard as he can, with Benji keeping his hands tight behind his back. The mean pull of his body is good. The stretch of him. Xavier tucks his chin down and is shocked to find Benji staring at the outline of his erection in his sweatpants. He’s never been so obvious about it before. He keeps a thin, veneer of control, of making it all seem like a fun game. Xavier can see those dark eyes, hooded and wanting. Watches Benji’s tongue cross over his lip, as if he can taste Xavier there.

“Benji.”

Dark eyes rise to his face. He feels the heat coalesce inside him like a category five hurricane, ripping apart his insides in random acts of fury. Xavier wiggles again and smiles. It’s boyish and sweet, a stark contrast to Benji’s expression, which feels worse than the hurricane. More dangerous, more vicious, more unpredictable. Insanely beautiful.

“Take the clip out your hair,” Xavier softly requests.

For a moment, he wonders if that’s a step too far. If he’ll get shoved off Benji’s lap and left to his own devices to find a way out the zipties and back to his room. There is no way to determine the expression on Benji’s face, no way to figure out what it means, until his hand lifts. He unclips his hair, lets it fall down around his face. He tosses the clip across the infirmary. The skittering sound of it feels like the teeth of a comb being plucked—it’s run right along Xavier’s spine.

He smiles again, wide and toothy and happy. Benji, in response, tightens his hand around the zipties and tugs harsher. Xavier whimpers, hips bucking forward. All at once the tension is released—without Benji’s hand on the ties, he nearly falls backward. He has to use the strength of his abdomen to right himself, pull his upper body forward.

“Make yourself cum,” Benji says, leaning back in the chair. His hands settle on Xavier’s thighs, but don’t move. They don’t even give a tantalizing squeeze. His eyes are sleepy, but bore into him. “Wanna see it, Xavier. Wanna see you get yourself off, yeah? You look fuckin’ pretty when you do it. So fuckin’ do it.”

That throaty, rough command knives into Xavier’s stomach. Punches up inside him and makes his brows slant, his whole body go submissive and loose. He presses his body forward, puts his forehead to Benji’s and begins thrusting himself back and forth. The rubbing sensation of their bodies is so close to enough. He moans and whimpers on every harsh dig of his hips forward, his body rolling back and forth. He pants breathy and soft against Benji’s face.

“Please,” Xavier begs. His eyes flicker across Benji’s face. That dark unknowing chasm closes a little. He sees a reflection of desire that is so bright it almost hurts. “I want to kiss—”

His hair is snatched, black gloved fingers winding through red strands. He’s yanked in for it. Their mouthes crush together. The cut on his lip reopens painfully, but Xavier doesn’t even care. He can barely feel it, with the way hes thrusting himself back and forth, frantic and hard now. Their lips part, tongues sliding together, filthy and messy. Xavier moans loudly and hears Benji’s echo. The kiss is hungry and devouring and nasty, their heads twisting back and forth. Xavier can barely keep himself upright, his hands numb and cold with the restraint. His shoulders burn with it.

It feels so good.

Benji’s hands clasp around Xavier’s ass, dragging him in tighter. He’s rough with it, his hips digging upward. Together, now, they roughly thrust against one another. Xavier realizes he’s speaking into the kiss, asking for more, begging desperately for it, blood from his cut slipping between their tongues. He licks hungrily at the inside of Benji’s mouth.

“C’mon, Xavier,” Benji’s harsh, deep voice brings him closer and closer still. “Xavier.”

The orgasm pulls him open, makes him slump across Benji. Wet tears spill out his eyes, his entire body shivering. He can’t catch his breath, shoulders shaking. Xavier makes a soft, pathetic sound as his hips give tiny stutters, work himself through the end of his release. He closes his eyes, blood dripping off his chin. He buries himself into Benji’s neck and feels oddly safe for a moment. Like a tiger has settled over top of him, claws outstretched, painfully dangerous to everyone near it. Including him.

He feels hands touching his face, angling it up. Benji’s warm, flat tongue licks the blood trail from his chin up to his mouth. He trembles and parts his lips to invite him back in.

—

“Is it going to scar?” Xavier asks. He’s freshly changed into a new pair of sweatpants from the supply closet. He looks at himself in the hand mirror, face tilted so that angry red gash is all he can see. His stomach turns cold at the thought of it.

“Somethin’ wrong with scars?” Benji asks, tapping his own, across his eye. It’s gnarled and messy, like someone hadn’t patched it right—but it doesn’t make him less handsome. Not to Xavier, anyway. He swallows and looks back to his own reflection.

“Don’t be so vain.” Benji snatches the mirror and cracks it down on the desk. It shatters, pieces scattering bright reflective everywhere and makes Xavier jump in surprise. “You’re more than a pretty face.”

A shard from the ground is cracked enough to have both their reflections in it. Xavier stares for a long moment before leaning in to try and kiss Benji one last time. He gets a hand to his face, pushing him away.

“I just fuckin’ put that stitch back on.”

“You suck.”

“You wish,” Benji replies, making an obscene gesture with his hand and turning on his boot.