#like they bicker but they will absolutely burn down the world for each other

[f1xwers]

I will never get tired of writing chewis and including queerplatonic chestappen. It is such a powerful dynamic that truly makes my brain worms go wild.

Checo and Lewis being disgustingly in love with each other while Max bullies these loser old men who are always sending each other heart eyes (he's secretly their #1 fan but would rather die than admit it).

Max being extremely protective of Checo because that's his teammate and he'll be damned if anyone hurts or upsets him. He has threatened Lewis repeatedly over if he ever breaks Checo's heart. The first couple of times Lewis was mildly offended that Max thought he would ever hurt Checo but later he was just impressed and endeared that the Mexican has someone who will fight tooth and nail for him.

What Lewis doesn't know is that Max will also fight tooth and nail for him as well because that's his rival and only HE can bully Lewis like that (and he has 100% gotten into fistfights over it).

Lewis watching from afar as this Dutch gremlin snuggles up to his boyfriend insert my boyfriend's boyfriend meme here and just sighs tiredly, resigned to his fate. (He's secretly fond of Max but would also rather die than admit it!) He's just kind of accepted that Max will always be there and eventually gets used to it to the point where he starts spoiling Max too. Whenever he sees something that reminds him of Max or he thinks the Dutchman would like, he gets it for him and just tosses it at his face. Max hisses and scowls at him like a feral cat every single time but accepts the gifts nonetheless.

Both of them constantly bickering with each other as they spoil Checo. Max makes it a competition and tries to piss off Lewis; Lewis knows Max does it to piss him off and absolutely refuses to let him win.

Checo watches these shenanigans from afar and is just, absolutely endeared by these WDCs who are always fighting for his affection. He loves these losers so, so much and would burn down the world for them. Despite their antics and posturing, Checo is the fiercest and most protective of the three, but people fail to see it because he's always so calm and a mediator between these two bold and tenacious personalities.

But the second that anybody dares to talk badly about Lewis and/or Max or about his relationships with them though? Someone will get torn to fucking shreds.

AND AND AND the best part is that this very same dynamic can easily be transferred to Lewcostappen but the intensity just gets dialed up by like a thousand, and it's definitely a sight to see.

[silversnowblossom]

kaveh remembers returning from the desert, from his project, only to find the akademiya thrown into utter disarray. the sages gone, a large portion of the ground near the sanctuary of surasthana collapsed and crumbling, and rumours spread like wildfire. remembers realizing just how much he’s missed, how much danger alhaitham was in without his even knowing (alhaitham was injured, and he was none the wiser—). remembers hearing divine knowledge capsule and the scribe in conjunction and ice flooding his veins until he finds alhaitham, alive and well, in the house of daena. only then does the cold finally fade.

still. it could’ve so easily gone wrong. he could’ve returned only to find alhaitham dead, or gone, or his sanity shattered.

(there are fates worse than death, kaveh knows. that—that would’ve been one of them.

what is alhaitham, without that cunning, that stubbornness, that surprising deep-seated kindness? what would be left of him, without his mind?

kaveh has nightmares about it sometimes, about how he could have come back to find alhaitham an empty shell of himself, that brilliance so neatly excised. to see him without any of his sharp intellect, to look into his eyes and find no recognition there. for all their disagreements, kaveh does not think he would have been able to withstand that.)

[tasteracha]

a/n: my brain’s supply of what this 2min nonsense was about. why did they smile at each other like that. about a sports drink.

warnings: piss kink (apologizes in advance), soft dom!minho, poly relationship 2min x reader, smut - minors dni

it starts like this:

you were sick a week ago, bedridden and weak-limbed for days and you would have been absolutely miserable if you didn’t have two lovely partners waiting on your every need. streaming hot soup brought straight to your bed, sweat-soaked sheets changed by one of them while the other helped you shower, endless supplies of water and juices and various drinks kept in a steady supply on your bedside table.

including those goddamn sports drinks. the ones that they still shove down your throat because what if you’re still dehydrated baby? can’t have you passing out can we? doesn’t matter to them that you haven’t been sick for a few days now.

you’re tired of the sticky sweet, slightly salty flavor of them. your eyes burn when they land on the colorful label, the smell of it makes you want to throw the bottle out of your high story apartment window. you’re surprised that your piss isn’t pure sports drink at this point. 

still, you drink them. the smile on their faces when you hand them the empty bottle is enough to keep you doing it. the way they take care of you, the way it makes them happy to see you comfortable? you wouldn’t trade that for the world. 

you’re on your third bottle when minho plops onto the couch next to you, immediately latching onto your side and pulling seungmin down into your lap from where he was sitting on your other side. his head lands on your lower belly and he gasps in surprise, squirming as he gets comfortable. his weight presses against your bladder, full of almost three sports drinks now, and it sends a ting up to your head.

“wait, babe,” you wriggle, trying to dislodge your arm from minho’s grip. “i have to go, give me a minute.”

“no,” minho and seungmin whine together, sharing a grin before settling deeper into you.

“c’mon,” you whine back, tugging again at your arm in vain. “let me gooo.”

“you can wait,” minho throws a leg over yours, thigh almost hitting seungmin’s face as he all but traps you into the cushions. seungmin raises a lazy hand and rubs at the bare skin of minho’s thigh from where his shorts had ridden up. you feel minho shudder a bit against you before relaxing, melting completely into you. 

you sigh and accept it. it’s so rare that the three of you get to sit in once space together and relax; with their album having released recently, they’re always running around on different schedules, performing on various stages and going through interview after interview and even when they come home together they’re so tired that they almost collapse on their feet at the door. when they’re not doing things together they’re off on separate ventures, meetings with choreographers or their producers to write songs or whatever their next project is for that week. 

so with the two of you wrapped around you like this, it does seem a bit silly to dislodge them just to use the bathroom. 

the two of them gently bicker over what to watch, seungmin arguing that you and him were in the middle of a movie before minho came in and minho firing back that he didn’t know what happened during the first half so wouldn’t it be fair to change it to something all three of you could enjoy?

throughout their argument, minho wordlessly hands the sports drink you had left on the coffee table to you, metal straw poised near your mouth. seungmin scratches a bit at his thigh when you take it from him reflexively, just how minho likes it, all while they continue talking at each other. you might not have noticed their behavior if the mere sight of the drink sends a warning signal from your bladder to your brain. 

what are they doing. 

minho glances pointedly at your hand, eyes flickering to your mouth and back, and he smiles in satisfaction when you raise it to your lips and take a tentative sip. you take another when you notice your throat did feel a bit dry, thirst battling with your need to pee in an utterly confusing way. you hope they don’t notice when you squeeze your legs together just a bit, holding off the need to pee in a temporary relief. 

minho meets seungmin’s eyes and the younger tips the drink back towards your mouth from where you had let it lower to your lap. 

“what?” you ask, a little breathless. “i’m not really that thirsty, love. i’ll drink it later.”

seungmin shrugs, turning his attention back to the tv. minho sends a glare to him, but it quickly morphs into a smirk when seungmin puts on the anime the three of you love and have seen four times through, exiting out of the movie. 

you’re still confused, but you let yourself melt back into the cushions and focus on the screen. whatever they were up to, you wouldn’t find out until they wanted you to. you’ve learned that lesson time and time again, and it’s taught you to just let things happen instead of wracking your head over it. the two boys were utterly unpredictable on their own but together? you didn’t stand a chance. 

“let’s take a shower,” seungmin suggests, breaking the comfortable silence the three of you had maintained for a while. a shower sounded nice, especially with the two of them - they always paid you the most attention, lathering you up so gently and rinsing your hair until you were practically purring in their arms. but. if you got up right now, you weren’t sure that you could hold your bladder in. 

you look down at the drink in your hand, intending to hand it over to minho to put away, but it’s finished. you don’t remember drinking any more of it, but you must have done it subconsciously when your attention was on the tv. you didn’t even realize that four episodes had passed already. 

the reminder of the sheer amount of liquid in your body makes your lower belly ache, and you’re this close to telling seungmin to go on without you. however, the toilet was in the same room as the shower - and now that your bladder is in the forefront of your mind, that was where you needed to go as soon as physically possible. 

“go ahead and get the water going, seungminnie,” minho says, voice soft and eyes fond. “we’ll be right there.”

seungmin moves off of your lap, disappearing in a flurry and while you thought the removal of his weight might have helped, it actually did the opposite. it was as if he was stopping you from feeling the full force of your aching bladder, absorbing the feeling into himself somehow, and as soon as he was gone it took over your entire body so intensely that you had to hunch over. 

“let’s go, baby,” minho all but coos at you, standing up but not letting go of your arm. he helps you up, letting you lean against him as the two of you shuffle over to the bathroom in agonizingly slow steps. 

“just give me one second,” you squeeze minho’s hand after he leads you through the double doors, stepping towards the toilet. you’ve been together long enough that peeing in front of them doesn’t phase any one of you, and even if it did you’re too desperate to care right now. 

“not so fast,” minho tugs on your hand and you stumble into him, the movement making you clench so that you don’t pee all over the floor. 

“min, c’mon,” you plead, voice coming out in a whine. “let me go, or i’m going to make a mess and you’re going to have to clean it up.”

“shower first,” he says, his tone making it clear that you didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. “you can do it, hmm? you can hold it for us, our good girl.”

his words send another pang throughout your body, this time through your pussy as it all falls into place. you can feel your heartbeat throughout your entire body and your knees feel weak; if he wasn’t holding you up they might have given out there and then. 

“i-i can’t,” you bite out, trying and failing to stand your ground. 

“you can,” minho says, firm and unmovable. you let him peel off your clothes, your entire body shaking and fever-hot all over. he sheds his own quickly, pushing you into the large shower and into seungmin’s arms. you’re glad for him, because otherwise you might have fallen straight to the tiles under the spray in a sad heap. minho slides up behind you and wraps his arms around your midsection, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp. 

the water dripping down your frames and swirling down the drain is transfixing, and you were so close to letting go if the embarrassment of pissing yourself didn’t stop you. you can’t look away from the drain, from the clear water that makes you wonder what it would look like if it was tinged yellow.

“hyung?” seungmin asks, breaking your trance, his eyes shining at minho as he looks at him for guidance. 

“take care of our girl,” minho nods, keeping you still when seungmin moves away. you expect him to reach for the loofah hanging by the shower head, or the bar of soap sitting in the caddy, but instead he sinks to his knees in front of you. he looks up at you with reverence, the shower spray hitting his back and the overhead light shining down on him making him look like some kind of angel. 

or a devil, your mind tells you as he leans forward to press light kisses to your thighs. minho wedges a leg in between yours, nudging your knees apart so seungmin has access to your throbbing pussy. he makes a delighted noise and dives in, tongue flicking at your folds as his hands keep your thighs apart. 

“fuck, seung,” you moan, muscles tightened as you try not to release onto his face. “i can’t hold it.”

neither of them pay you any mind; minho’s hands massage at your lower belly as seungmin laps at you like you’re his last meal, his tongue dipping inside of you and reaching points he never has before.

“p-please,” you gasp, not knowing what you were even asking for. for minho to let up on the pressure around your middle, for seungmin to move his face away from your pussy, for him to go harder and never stop. 

“do you need to go, honey?” minho says, voice right in your ear. it sends a lick of flames up your spine, and seungmin hums into you when you let out a list of syllables that you hope mean god, yes, please let me. “then come for us, and i promise you can go after.”

it’s like his words flip a switch inside of you, because immediately after he orders it you’re coming. your hips jerk against seungmin’s mouth, his nose rubbing against your clit as the fire climbs downwards and explodes into embers that take over your entire body. 

when the last of the shocks fade away, the pang of desperation from your bladder comes back in full force. your knees shake, you can feel your entire body trembling in an attempt to not piss all over your boyfriend who is still kneeling between your legs. 

“baby, come up here,” minho calls to seungmin, pulling him away from where he had begun sucking at your inner thigh. he rises to his knees in an unfairly graceful way and presses his body up against your front so you’re sandwiched between them. the gentle pressure of his hips pushing against minho’s hands makes you double over, your face squishing against seungmin’s chest as you finally lose control over yourself. 

you can feel the warm stream sliding down your legs, the sound of it mixing with the shower spray and creating some kind of weird harmony. you let out a sob, half from the utter relief you feel at letting go and half at the embarrassment of pissing yourself like this, even if they made you do it. you close your eyes and throw your head back against minho’s collarbone, mouth hanging open from how overwhelmed you feel. 

“i’m sorry,” you choke out, chest heaving in with your breaths and shuddering out. the flow finally tapers off, the last bits of release tricking down and swirling down the drain. “fuck, i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, love,” seungmin shushes you, sliding a hand up your waist as minho presses wet kisses to the back of your head. “that was so fucking hot, you don’t even know.”

you watch with tired eyes as minho’s hand creeps around you to circle around seungmin’s dick, hard and upright, and seungmin sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. his own hand snakes behind you, to minho’s cock, and they jerk each other off with you between them, pliant and jelly limped as you lean against them. they come together, both of their heads buried into your neck and their combined come spurting out onto your legs and sliding down like your piss had earlier. 

the three of you stand there for several moments, catching your breath and regaining the feeling in your legs. seungmin does actually reach for the loofah then, lathering it up with minho’s expensive soaps and spending extra time scrubbing at your legs. you float in a dazed mess as they rinse you off, wrapping you in a fluffy towel and then guiding your limbs into satin pajamas. 

“thirsty?” seungmin asks after he deposits you into the covers of your shared california king bed, and your parched throat aches to say yes. you almost do, but when you turn your head to look at what’s in his outstretched hand it’s - 

a bottle of the god damn sports drink. 

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina , Do you have a category for reread fics?How can I find them

Meaning fics I’ve read more than once? I don’t think I’ve ever made one—let me see what I can do.

Danger I Can’t Hide by CelticSky (E, 227K) This one’s got all the tension and drama you’d expect of a World War II story—life and death high stakes, friends and lovers unexpectedly torn apart, battles and heroism, plus the added stakes of classism and homophobia—then add a slow burn, high risk, scorching love affair spanning years. If you want a story that’s complex and fantastically researched, plus lovers to root for, read it. It’s long. But I couldn’t put it down. When I did, I immediately picked it right back up and read it twice more.

Hats Off To My Distant Hope by orphan_account (E, 21K) This was such a pleasure to read. The writing feels so effortless as the fic explores the deep emotions of these two characters. They’re stubborn and inarticulate and gentle and passionate and finally, finally open up to each other. I really wish I knew who wrote it because I’d love to read more of their work.

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy (E, 150K) I’ve read this one multiple times and still love it. Their bickering is so realistic, their resistance to their attraction to each other is perfect, the way the author portrays all of their weird quirks and differences but still makes it believable that they’d fall fo reach other is such fun to read….I love this fic.

my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach (E, 160K) Probably my absolute favorite time travel fic. I’ve read it more times than I’d like to admit, and every time I love it more. One of the things I like most is how organically the author weaves in canon events…every little moment is an easter egg without it being so obvious that it pulls you out of the fic. Anyway, this one is so moving and so absorbing, I hope you like it if you give it a try! There’s an 18K companion piece to it as well, but you’ll see the link at the appropriate time when you’re reading the main fic (and when you read the scene that breaks your heart –– in the best possible way –– come and scream at me. You’ll know which one I mean).

Our Lives, Non Fiction by @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 114K) this is, quite literally, the best fic I’ve read in years. It’s so well written, clever, funny, emotional, and sexy. Its draw you in immediately and you’ll end up falling in love with these characters before you know it. Don’t miss this one.

Never Never Never Stop for Anyone (Sheylinsonverse) by aimmyarrowshigh, spibsy (E, 10-work series, 439K)Yes, here I am again, putting this series on a list. Probably 10 people in this fandom like it as much as I do, but I don’t care. I have read all 440K words more than once, and will likely do it a few more times. Yes, it needs editing, but even so…really well written, super sexy (if you like reading BDSM and can handle Larry + someone else), and such interesting character development. One of my favorite things about this fic is how the authors differentiate between the ways the different characters inhabit their Dom and Sub personalities.

Make Your Words A Weapon by HelloAmHere (E, 36K) I love everything this author writes. This one just really hit me hard for whatever reason. Maybe it’s the way they explore Louis’ anxiety and coping mechanisms and pain and the way he pushes people away and protects himself, but also wants someone to push back just a bit and love him despite all of that. And the way Harry is the perfect foil for all of it, while also feeling like a fully developed character himself. Yeah, it’s probably all of that. Plus soul marks!

Pull Me Under by zarah5 (E, 140K) One of the very first fics I read when I came into this fandom…and I’ve read it multiple times since. Zarah’s fics hold up every time. This one has it all, great pacing, ot5 friendship, banter, super sexy smut, etc etc. Plus, Louis being super jealous of Harry’s best friend.

Into The Blue by zarah5 (E, 117K) honestly, I love all of this author’s fics, but I think this is my favorite of theirs. Louis as a flirty scuba instructor? Newly single Harry who just wants a fling? Boys living on other sides of the world who only have a few weeks together? Heartbreak. Hot af smut. OT5 friendship. Please….give me all that shit.

Faking It by TheCellarDoor (M, 46K)This one is so sweet. I loved Harry's internal monologue... his insecurities and thoughts that he'd made Louis uncomfortable because he liked, him made me cry. Louis is so soft and supportive. It’s just a lovely fic.

Remind Me Again by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (E, 29K) Every sentence in this fic is so effortlessly beautiful. I love that the miscommunication between them is done in a totally realistic way. The fight and make up like real people do and that makes the angst more painful and the making up more emotional. One of my favorite authors.

And Touch Me Like You Never by runaway_train (E, 36K) I really enjoyed how this author handled Harry’s confusion and growing attraction and eventual sexuality crisis. That, along with the angst and very sexy smut, made it a really good read.

may we all have a vision now and then by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (M, 4K) This author is one of my favorite writers in this fandom and everything they do is infused with so much delicacy and tenderness. I literally cried through this fic because of how wounded Harry’s character feels. Read it and then treat yourself to their whole AO3 catalogue.

Seeing Blind by zedi (E, 47K) I really liked the way this author gave a twist to both Omega Harry and Alpha Louis’ characteristics. It’s a whole lot of smut and miscommunication and, of course, a happy ending.

Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 (NR, 209K) this fic will run you through the wringer, but it’s really a great read. I really like the way the author took the boys from enemies to friends to boyfriends, and how we got to see how protective and supportive Louis became towards Harry.

smell the sea, feel the sky by @lightwoodsmagic (E, 16K) This is the perfect summer pining fic. I love that they’re adults and still the same horny, pining fools for each other and it still works. It’s just very sexy, light, and fun.

we can take the long road home by @pinkcords (E, 46K) This was absolutely gorgeous. And it made me cry, damn it. Seriously though, the writing is so beautiful. I loved the characterizations and the way they both showed their vulnerability. I loved the slow pace and the hot smut. I loved this fic.

smile in slow motion by istajmaal (E, 24K) One of my favorite Daddy kink authors, this one is lighthearted and funny while also being super sexy. Plus it’s got great Zouis friendship.

all my love was down on a frozen ground by navigator (E, 16K) This is an old one that I didn’t have bookmarked for some reason. But it’s a favorite and I love everything this author wrote. This is one of those quiet, soft fics with a bit of angst and a lot of internal monologue and gentle conversations. I don’t know, there’s something so touching about it.

Thought The Song Was Sung by 100percentsassy (E, 13K) This is both a famous/not famous and a dating app AU. Plus, older Larry. Plus an author who writes great fic. And this one is just sweet and charming and I really like this one.

the way the storms blow by rbbsbb (E, 22K) What would happen if you walked in on your best friend in the midst of an orgy? Louis finds out and it’s pretty damn hot.

we can take the long way home by eleadore (E, 27K) this one is a canon divergent future fic where Louis is a “carrier” (basically, he would be able to get pregnant) and it’s just SO good. It’s beautifully written (like everything this author does), so well-paced, and I just find the way their developing relationship is written to be so touching and realistic.

The light to guide me home by Star_Henderson / @tommosgun (E, 65K) I don’t know what it is about this fic but I’ve read it so many times and I just really love the instant chemistry, the smut is stupid hot and fuels the character growth, and even with the angst, the whole thing is just lighthearted and sexy.

Speaking of Marvels by navigator, quitter (E, 101K) This was one of the first fics I read in this fandom, but I read it again recently and had forgotten how really wonderful it is. The writing is so lovely and the characters feel so well developed. I especially loved how the authors explored how differently the two of them would respond to their relationship given the different stages of life they were in. It made the romance and the attraction and the angst feel really real.

Constant Debauchery by Blake (E, 19K) Yes, yes, I know. I’ve probably recommended this 10 times. But have you read it yet? Anyway…Edwardian setting, uni ABO (Alpha/Alpha) fic. Gorgeous mood setting, I’ve said before that it reads like an Merchant Ivory film looks…just gorgeous. There’s a similar sense of repression and uncertainty about flouting societal expectations, and a character who appears one way on the surface, but underneath is quite different. I love this one, I’ve read it a number of times.

Lightening Strikes Twice by @dinosaursmate (E, 106K) It’s not often that I read a 100+K fic multiple times, but this one is worth it. It’s one of my favorites from this author, and a favorite all around. It’s an epic love story spanning decades and massive life changes. It’s sexy and well-written, and so touching, and so fulfilling in many ways.

precious little thing by mercutionnotromeo (E, 21K) I’ve read this one so many times…it’s got it all. This time the phone sex operator is Louis, and subby Harry is just beginning to realize his daddy kink.

Good Enough to Eat by objectlesson (E, 7K) This author always does such a good job with depicting young, queer love and the way their characters experience the overwhelm of realizing they’re not straight, realizing the’ve met their Person, pining, and giving in. I love a lot of their fics, but I think this is my favorite of them. Link is to a download.

One day to believe in you by mediaville (E, 8K) another author who always hits it out of the park as far as I’m concerned. This one is super funny and then super sexy. Louis gets cursed and has to tell the truth. No matter what Harry asks him. Read it!

like a bastard on a burning sea by vashtaneradas (NR, 21K) Heartbreaking, perfect writing. So well-written that the fandom hated real-life Harry for a while after this was posted. 😅

These Roads We Stumble Down by onewasturning (E, 18K) I adore this author’s writing and I’ve read this particular one multiple times. It’s just a little melancholy and very sexy and one of those fics that reminds me why I can read about the same two people falling in love 46372 times and never tire of it.

Empty Skies by green_feelings / @greenfeelings (E, 13K) I just started re-reading this the other day and it holds up so well. This author is always a pleasure to read. Their fics just are well plotted and the characters are nicely fleshed out. I loved Perrie as Harry’s bestie, the bitterness and angst is PAINFUL, and the ending feels well earned.

Wild and Unruly by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews (E, 124K) One of the OG classics in this fandom. If you haven’t read it yet, you’re missing out. It’s just a great, original story. Plus, cowboy Harry, city boy Louis, bad guys to hate, nail biting drama, hot af sexual chemistry and smut, and a super satisfying ending.

Love Is A Rebellious Bird by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews (E, 135K) Everything about this fic is glorious. I’m always struck by how well the characters are fleshed out, how their behavior lines up with their backstory, how ridiculously hot the chemistry is, and how agonizing the angst is. So yes, no shocker, I cried buckets. Thank god for a happy ending.

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry (E, 137K) High school Au, footie, enemies with benefits, so much sexual tension (and just tension), and really well-developed, complex characters. Most of the conflict in this (and in the companion fic from Harry’s POV) is straight up lack of communication. But, given the age of the characters, it’s forgivable (although sometimes frustrating).

In Dreams by dolce_piccante (M, 24K) This actually might be my favorite of this author’s fics, although I know it’s definitely not the most popular. It’s just soft and romantic and sweet and I’m a sucker for tattoo artist Louis winning over slightly uptight Harry.

Your Name Is Tattooed On My Heart my mcpofife (E, 87K) I reread this one recently and it's truly delightful. The characterizations are so well done. Harry is so endearing (I cried over his heartbreak). And the smut is both hot and really emotional. Love this one.

[luveline]

for shy fri!! what about jonathan x shy!reader who are constantly in their own little world? similar to this remus one you did!!

thank you my love! i hope this is close to what you wanted <3 shy!fem!reader x lovesick!jonathan

Jonathan isn't sure if you know how much he wants you. Talking as your boyfriend, you're together, and he still wants you. To hold your hand, or your wrist, your forearm in his hand, your forearm pulled close to his chest. To slide the first two fingers on his left hand behind your ear and tilt your head so he can see all your eyelashes. To pull your thigh over his and feel the weight of it through the whole movie. He wants every tiny piece of you there is up for offer, and he'd feel selfish if he weren't so sick in love. 

"Do you want some?" you whisper, offering your box of Milk Duds to him expectantly. 

He takes a handful just to watch your face as you shake them out. 

"More?" you ask. 

"That's fine," he whispers back, "thanks." 

He wants, desperately, to add 'honey'. Honey, baby, angel, all those too sweet pet names that'll make you hide your mouth, hand pressed delicately over your lips, smile evident in your eyes if nothing else. 

"Welcome." 

There should be a word for it, the want to press his chest to yours, to overlap. If he had his way, his friends would fade into the background, they already have, and he'd snake his arm behind your head, hook your neck in the crook of his arm and encourage your face to his neck. He'd dot more kisses than anyone ever has into your crown. 

"Are you okay?" you whisper, quiet than before. You've shifted on the couch to get right next to his ear, each word tickling his inner ear with the accompanying breath. 

He turns his face slowly so as not to startle you. TV light catches your cheek and brow, illuminating you in a bright, translucent blue. If you weren't the shyest girl he'd ever met he'd kiss you right here, friends forgotten, but you'd genuinely be uncomfortable and he doesn't ever want that. 

How to lure you away? 

He leans in like he might kiss you, lips a hair's width from your cheek. "Drink?" 

"Yeah, please." 

You misunderstand. Jonathan stands with your confirmation and catches hold of your wrist at the same time, tugging at you gently. You rise up and follow him out to the kitchen, and really there's nothing subtle to it, nothing at all.

"They're fucking disgusting," Mike says. 

Will reaches into his lap for some popcorn and hums, not disagreeing. "It could be worse." 

"Could it?" Lucas' face appears between them, leaning down from his seat on the armchair. "Will, your brother needs help, psychologically."

"He's fine." 

"He's watching the movie via lights on her face," Max adds, backing Lucas up with a scrunched up nose. She doesn't care if you and Jonathan are being sweet on each other, she cares about being right, and Lucas is correct. "It's obsessive." 

"You guys'll understand when you're older," Steve pipes up, flopping into the gap you've left behind. Robin rolls her eyes at him. "Nah, you won't. They're weird." 

"They're in love," Will says, laughing like this is the stupidest conversation anyone has ever had. 

Dustin isn't one to stay quiet any longer. He wishes he could back Will up. He can't. "Listen, I have a girlfriend, and that's not right." 

"You have a girlfriend?" Max asks, voice layered in a cheerfulness she absolutely is not feeling. She's too good at pretending — her tone is nothing less than convincing. 

In the kitchen, your skin burns with heat. The door is nowhere near thick enough to cover the sounds of their bickering. It grows louder and louder, the kids debating your love life with a voracious passion.  

"Let's not beat around the bush," you hear Steve say, "they're definitely canoodling in there." 

"Why are we friends with him?" Jonathan asks, similarly embarrassed but trying not to show it. 

"Because he's nice. And he has Robin as an add-on. It's like a two for one." 

"Two for one on idiots," he mumbles, offering you a freshly filled glass. Robin's laughter sounds from the living room, high-pitched and breathless. 

You smile despite yourself.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan says after a small pause. "This isn't what I was trying to do." 

You put your glass on the counter and smile at him. It's not the brilliant smile you usually give when you're alone. Jonathan's amazed to find that, even as a couple, you have a little warm up period every time you see him, adorable, a tinsy bit disconcerting. You can be very cautious.

"What were you trying to do, Jon?" you ask earnestly. 

He puts down his glass too. He smiles, breath caught, hands tentative and then not. "This," he says, hands vying for your cheeks. He cups your warm face in his for a stolen moment, thumbs rubbing at the skin shy of your nose, and then one hand slides to the nape of your neck, and the other goes over your shoulders. He pulls you in for a hug, as he has tens of times, but finds himself worrying when your arms don't come up automatically to meet him. 

He hugs you a little bit harder. 

"Oh," you say, arms circling his waist, half as tight and twice as affectionate, hand rubbing at the bumps of his spine. 

Shy, yes, but skimpy with affection? Never. You hold him like he's made of something infinitely precious, soft and sweet and silent, your breath warming a crescent moon against his shoulder. 

"You sure you're okay?" you ask quietly, face turning so you can kiss the slip of chest peeking out from under his shirt's neckline. 

"I'm fine. I'm good, really. I know you don't like this stuff in front of everyone, so…" 

Your face slips down to his chest. "You could hug me a little in front of them. Better that then have them," — you pause, and the quiet is filled by the sounds of your friends' continued arguing — "doing whatever it is they're doing." 

"Right now, I think they're debating when you're gonna break up with me." 

"Never," you say. It's so fast, your answer. Instant. You cough to cover up your embarrassment and Jonathan has to hide his smile in the skin above your ear. 

"Hey, you should be glad," Steve says, too smug, something awful in the way the room quietens to broadcast him. "Better they're too weird to cuddle in front of us than teen pregnancy." 

Jonathan sighs, knowing you won't want to hug him any longer after that. Sure enough, you break apart from his hold and take a too fast swig of water, frantic. "Let's go back in," you say. 

You leave and he hasn't even picked up his cup. Jonathan presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and takes a 'Don't pick a fight with Steve' breath, frustration and agitation and an inkling of adoration for you all mixed up in his head. 

"Where's Jonathan?" he hears Will ask you.

"Practising on his hand?" Steve asks. 

Jonathan takes another deep breath. 

[just-a-bored-writer]

Between The Pages, I Found Your Heart | Crowley X Human Reader, Part 6

Gift for @orangegaytorade

You had devoted your studies, and honestly to this extent, your life, to the study of Judeo-Christian lore. You were one of the best in your field, a dedication of hours of work, blood and tears. And if your thesis advisor hadn't noticed, others had. Beings far older, far more powerful, whose existence you had studied but never believed were real. Oh but they were very real, and the King of Hell, in his war against Heaven and the Winchesters, would have great use for your knowledge. Knowledge was power after all and among mortals, you were the most powerful.

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationships: Crowley/Reader

Characters: Human Reader, Crowley, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Reader-insert, Crowley-centric, Beauty and the Beast Retelling, Meet-Cute, (kidding Crowley kidnap the reader. there is nothing cute about it. don't try this in real life), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Bickering as Flirting, Domestic Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Slow Burn, No Smut

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Mentions of Torture, Blood and Injuries, Blood Sharing

Set during Season 8 and 9.

Chapter 1, Chapter 5

Chapter 6: The Eyes Are The Mirror Of The Soul

You hadn't seen so many people (demons, they were demons, not people and yet it was so easy to forget that) in the house since your arrival a few months ago. But at the moment you told Crowley your theory about Lucifer’s Caves, a veritable army had arisen. The hallways were teeming with demons moving weapons and artifacts that radiated an energy so evil it made you shiver. They were legendary objects you had studied in your books, ancient, powerful and destructive. 

Worthy only of a conqueror, of a King.

But that wasn't the biggest change. Many doors that were previously closed were now open, to make way for Crowley's armies preparing for War. All the secrets of Hell were within your grasp, just waiting for you to seize them. You could have everything. And yet what you wanted most, your freedom, was still unattainable. 

It wasn't for lack of trying, but the screams of raw pain and absolute terror that escaped from the lowest circles often left you frozen in place. You still remembered the beast that lurked beneath Crowley's oh-so-alluring surface. 

But these past few weeks, as he spent time in the library reading in comfortable silence with you, ate with you whenever he had the chance and challenged you intellectually in conversations you secretly wished would never end, you tended to let yourself be charmed by his presence. 

Like Eve in the Garden, you let yourself be seduced by the Serpent.

(Was it a little sad and pathetic that one of your only friends was the demon who had kidnapped and brutalized you? Probably, but you haven't cared about that in a long time.)

To say that you didn't know which way to turn would have been an understatement and the uncertainty was wearing you down to the bone. The sword of Damocles hanging over your head grew heavier with each day spent locked in your gilded prison. You haunted the hallways searching for a solution, as pale as a ghost after so long without seeing the life-giving light of the sun, exploring random rooms in hopes of... you didn't know what. 

And you hated the disappointment you felt every time your search didn't turn out to be fruitful. Hope was one of the last things you had but damn did it hurt every time. You pushed open every door with the intention of finding your ticket to the outside world and you always came out biting your lip in rage, tears in your eyes and a devastated room behind you.

Crowley could pay for the damages, he owed you at least that and more, the bastard. You hated him and you liked him just a little bit. But more importantly, you were fucking tired.

Of the situation you were forced into, of your conflicting feelings, of the harmful magic embedded even in the walls. Of Crowley. 

It had gotten to the point where you were contemplating taking a nap on the cold floor of the office you had broken into. This room, surprisingly, wasn't open like the others, but with the ease with which you had entered it, it wasn't closed either. The mechanisms of the hidden doors of the house no longer held any secrets for you. Crowley had given you mountains of knowledge, mountains of power, and it would have been foolish not to use it.

Sometimes you wondered if this wasn't what Crowley had wanted all along, if you weren't just another puppet dancing between his fingers. You realized you didn't care.

You straightened up from your uncomfortable position, stretching to chase away the sleepiness that was taking over you. Suppressing a yawn behind your hand, you gave yourself five more minutes of 'research' before giving up for the day. Your very comfortable bed awaited you and you knew Crowley would be back tomorrow morning with breakfast for you.

(How frustrating he was. Crowley would go all the way to Paris and buy you fresh croissants but he couldn't show any human decency and let you go after you gave him what he so truly wanted. But then again, Crowley wasn't exactly human and you had no idea what he coveted.

You know what he wants, a traitorous voice whispered in the back of your mind.)

The desk was plain, no important documents in the drawers, a simple orchid placed on the black ebony wood. You ran your fingers along the spines of the books on the shelves, absently reading their titles. You thought at first that they must be important if they weren't in the library but rather hidden here from everyone – and from you. But once again, they were nothing more than ordinary works of poetry and theater. 

You pulled a book out at random with your fingertip, a copy of Shakespeare's Macbeth. The book was centuries old, the pages yellowed and aged with age. You could feel the power within thrumming beneath your fingers, keeping the book in good condition through the years. Inside were written three names, one below the other, as if this book had been passed down from hand to hand over several generations.

Rowena MacLeod

Fergus MacLeod

Gavin MacLeod

“If you want to read Shakespeare, I can introduce you to him. No need to bother with that dusty book,” Crowley whispered in your ear, making you jump away from him.

His ability to sneak up on you without your knowledge irritated you more than ever and you crossed your arms in front of your chest defensively. 

“So what, you're going to tell me that Shakespeare is in hell too?” you retorted.

“Unfortunately no, but you know I would do anything for you, darling,” Crowley replied with a charming smile, sitting behind the desk as if it were a throne.

You rolled your eyes in exasperation, hiding a small smile, and sat down on the desk across from him, your bare legs dangling a few inches above the floor. Crowley grabbed your ankle and placed it on his own leg, tracing irregular patterns on your calf as you spoke, his cold hands making you shiver.

“What did this book do to offend you?” you asked, not letting yourself be distracted. Still, you didn't free yourself from his grip. 

“It's a reminder I don't need. If I could have burned it, I would have done so long ago,” Crowley answered tiredly, holding the top of his nose between two fingers. “Believe me, I tried.”

“Did you know the people mentioned inside, the… MacLeods?” you asked, checking the names in the book again.

Crowley was silent for a moment, his eyes distant where you couldn't reach him and his hand stopped on your leg. You had noticed over the months at his side that Crowley rarely lied to you, you would even go so far as to say that he never did. He didn't answer you if he didn't want to but every word he said to you was the truth. Twisted to his will sometimes but the truth nonetheless.

“My name when I was human was Fergus MacLeod. This book is the only thing my mother ever gave me, and it's also the only thing I gave my son,” Crowley explained, his hand brushing the cover of the book on the desk next to you.

“And you were close to them, to your family?” you prodded curiously. 

Crowley never spoke of his past as a human. One of the rare times you had questioned him, he had revealed to you with a lascivious smile why he had sold his soul. Such an act of vanity had not surprised you and you had pointed it out to him mockingly. Today seemed different, more sincere, more raw, more human.

“No,” Crowley quickly refuted, as if there had never been any hesitation about it. Crowley lifted his head towards you and opened his eyes, his gaze boring into yours intensely, commanding your attention. “You have to understand something, darling. I was a terrible human, I was pathetic, bitter and helpless.”

Seeing him now, the charisma and power that emanated from him, you would never have thought it could have been true. But Crowley never lied to you.

“I died alone in my vomit among empty whiskey bottles. My son didn't come to my funeral and no one ever thought of me again after a week. Becoming a demon after I die is the best thing that ever happened to me. Although, I could have done without the centuries of torture and agony, but you know what they say. No pain, no gain.” Crowley smirked as if it didn't affect him. Maybe it didn't, you still didn't know if demons could feel emotions other than a general sense of evil. 

Still, you wondered why Crowley had chosen to reveal to you what could be considered such a weakness. What did he see in you that only he could see to regard you the way he did? You certainly didn't know.

“So it was all worth it in the end, losing your humanity, your suffering?” you asked derisively, you couldn't imagine caring so little about your life, about who you were.

“My human life was nothing but a long torment from its miserable beginning to its even more miserable end. My mother hated me, as much as I hated my son. I had nothing and no one for me,” Crowley replied cruelly, the candles in the candlestick fluttering in his starting anger. “Look around us, I am King now. All the riches and souls of the world are mine.”

“Crowley,” you say softly, sadly. “You still have no one.”

You wondered at that moment, if you had imagined the glint of hurt in Crowley's eyes. 

“I don't need anyone. Not when I already have their fear and obedience. That's all that matters,” Crowley retorted arrogantly. 

“You could have had me,” you revealed whispering, as much for Crowley as for yourself. 

This time, the regret in Crowley's eyes was unmistakable.

Argh, they're killing me. It took me a while to get into writing this chapter because I consider it to be a really important moment for them and I didn't feel ready to write it. In the end, I'm pretty satisfied with it, it's the first time Crowley is so honest with Reader (because even if he doesn't lie to them, he's very careful with his truth) and with anyone in general.

And poor Reader, the situation is so confusing and it's reflected in this chapter. They enjoy spending time with Crowley who softens in their company but at the same time they don't forget everything Crowley did to them. Everything is very complicated. I'm quite proud of the line, "you could have had me" which perfectly captures their situation. In different circumstances, it would have been easy for Reader to fall for Crowley.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, I'll try to be semi-consistent in my updates, especially since we're reaching a pivotal point in the story :)

[morgana-ren]

Ah yes I think about the AU surprisingly often considering you don't talk much about it. It's how evil and vile you made all three of them. It sunk into my kink brain and stuck there. Especially Astarion and Nightmare bickering over you when they're sharing. the fact Astarion likes to mark you up with his knife and Night doesn’t. I can't find that post but that tugowar fuelled my daydreams for months

Oh, they are vile. Utterly repugnant. Nightmare adores Asto and would flay anyone alive for him, but by the Gods do they come to blows over the girl. Doesn't help that Nighty is a devout Banite cleric (and he is absurdly powerful thanks to a pact and hundreds of years of practice and clawing and ambition-- literally think Gortash times 10) and isn't used to not getting his way and having to share.

Nightmare wants tears and begging and obedience and fear; he wants to slap a collar on your neck that reads 'Property of Prince Nightmare' and enchants it so that if you try to take it off, it shocks you more and more each time. He's the type who doesn't care if you black out while blowing him-- in fact, he likes it. If you miss a drop, you will be licking it from the floor and then cleaning his boots with your tongue while you apologize for being so incompetent. He invades your dreams and gives you nightmares of him ravaging you brutally only for you to wake and find those horrid, slitted, golden eyes leering over you in the dark with one hand on your neck and the other slicing whatever clothes you may be wearing with his claws. Gaslighting gets him hard. He'd have you believe that he's a prim and proper prude that values decorum and power above all (he is a prince, after all) but he's a filthy, wretched pervert who has some fucked up kinks, and you will indulge them - you have no choice.

On the upside, he will torture and devour your abusive ex boyfriend whole and would -- and has -- burn down the fucking world for you. I'm barely even scratching the surface here.

He is my favorite man on the planet and I could write him for ages. There is so much to him. He is a masterpiece and he knows it. There are aus where he is married, ones where he is finally king, ones where he has children he adores, ones where him and Asto roam the seas causing havok and mischief and misery until they kidnap some poor girl to make their pet-- really, when I say the world is huge, I do mean huge.

Asto, in this au, is just as vicious and cruel. He really took on a life of his own here. Licentious appetite that requires gorging and a lot of fucked up kinks to boot. A real nasty, wretched man. Reaver has his own shit going on too. Together, they really are absolutely fucking horrible and have some.... really, really fucked kinks and love lives.

[thelemoncoffee]

Another thing! The flamboyant Supervillian AU really got to me so I’m ranting about that too :)

I really do love the idea that Kokichi would in fact steal the Mona Lisa or some other priceless relic and treat it like everyday groceries. Diamond ring? Check. Million-dollar art work? Oh, can’t for get that. And on his way out, most times he will flee the scene indescribably, but there are other times where he’ll walk right out the front of the museum “un-armed” besides a few ringpops and messes with the cops even more by cartoon grappling up the building. He always does it with new cops because the others just couldn’t handle his bull even after 15 minutes of bickering, to him the looks on their faces are more priceless than his loot at the moment.

The heroes are a different story though, because they just don’t come and go as they please. Yes they’re tired of his shit but its what heroes do or whatever. (kind of annoys the hell out of him, but not enough to stop stealing from fat-cats) Even though he looks frail, Kokichi actually puts up one hell of a fight, strategically more or less. Because a mega mind supervillain such as himself doesn’t have as much time for weight lifting than he does for a mental breakdown in his office.

Now Shuichi! He himself is known to be taken seriously and dealt with cautiously as he’s basically in the Top 5# greatest super villains list in the world. His cold, static demeanor when creating to carrying out his plans sometimes even puts off the heroes themselves. The reason he’s so good at what he does is because he used to be on the police force, getting honest and vital information from the source. This means that he knows the ins and outs of how police work, the law, how much evidence they have against him in a case and their private information. The end goal isn’t to use that against them though, the reason he’s a super villian now is because he began to realize how messed up the law and police system had became, and from the moment he turned 18 he’a made it clear he wants absolutely nothing to do with the police since.

Now, take these two completely opposite outviews on the police and heroes and what do you get? Apparently a match made in heaven. The way these two met isn’t something I can think of right now, but what I do know is that they hit off pretty well. Maybe a bump in with each other while stealing the same relic or historical art portrait, but they both decided in some way or another to let there guards down because it’s a fellow villain.

In disguise, they go on a few dates in public and in private to get to know each other, and connect over their dislike for the police and law. Soon enough they decide to stop talking about it and do something with their newly declared partnership. This may happen over the span of six weeks or six months but it’s definitely a slow burn, they probably only begin dating after working together in public, as they not only get to see how they’re like off duty, but what they’re like when they’re on the job.

When the two most infuriating villains in the world go on stand by for theft, the heroes begin to notice before anyone else, and just when they think they ran a cold case after all these years, the two bounce back full force, doing a double heist and making it very clear they’re now seeing, working and committing crime together. (Bonus points if one of the heroes are Kaito)

The heroes then begin to realize that their job didn’t only get twice as hard, but the multiple of that as well. Even by themselves their power is exponential, together they even managed to pass out presents to every kid in their area on Christmas. That is if you count Panta and lollipops as gifts. Not only do the heroes realize their job is harder, but that they really are made for one another. The way they work and act rub off on one another and they end up acting like their partner without even realizing. None of them had ever seen Shuichi show as much as a smile until he met Kokichi, and Kokichi had never taken a heist so seriously in his life.

Phew I finally got all that out, have a nice day/night!✨

yoooo i love this take! i like the sense of doom radiating off that last part, they work far to well together and the heros and cops are nervous

[casparscunttt16]

What it’s like to date…

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw | Dating Head Canons

warnings: None pretty fluffy for the most part.

Summary: What I think it’ll be like dating Rooster :)

* He is extremely protective of you, he protects you like his life depends on it even though he’s well aware you’re able to protect yourself. He’ll practically go to war to protect you. He doesn’t want you to get hurt.

* He’s big on PDA he loves to show you off and let everyone in the whole world basically know that you’re his gorgeous girlfriend. He has no shame in publicly showing affection towards you.

* Hangman (Jake) teases him all of the time saying that he’s acting like a teenage girl in love for the first time because you quite literally have him wrapped around your finger and everyone knows it.

* When Bradley isn’t there to be your protector Jake will, as much he’s an asshole Jake really cares about you. He sees you as the sister he doesn’t have and always has an eye out on you when you go out somewhere with him. Bradley much appreciates this.

* You and Phoenix (Natasha) are very close! You guys met and became best friends almost instantly, you guys gang up on hangman for the fun of it.

* Bradley getting jealous when guys flirt with you and offer to buy you drinks at the bar. When he’s jealous he’s very handsy, he’ll touch you any and everywhere to make it known that you’re with him.

* You’re his motivation. When something becomes difficult and he doesn’t want to follow through anymore the thought of you motivates him to do better and get that thing done.

*You both were academic rivals before you two began dating. You both would constantly strive to be better than the other, no matter the circumstance. Let’s not start on that endless arguing. You and your now-current-boyfriend used bicker over stupid shit.

* Maverick being the reasoning you guys got together officially, you two absolutely hated each other with a burning passion and Mav got sick of the arguing and forced the two of you to talk it out. Come to find out you both liked each other and boom now you’re inseparable.

* “Those two need to stop arguing and just fuck it out” Phoenix complains rolling her eyes. “Agreed” Bob says nodding his head.

* Lots of angry hate sex before the confirmed relationship.

* Depending on the mood he’s in he could either fuck you like he hates you or make love to you, he never used to settle down so making love was rare for him until he fell in love with you.

* He said I love you first, you and him were arguing about something stupid. “Y/n this is fucking stupid I love you and I would never forgive myself for losing you, can we please talk about this?”. You smiled and kissed him and said it back.

* While making love to you he’s gentle and sweet, there’s lots of kissing and sweet nothings being whispered into your ear. He’s assures you he thinks you’re beautiful and that there’s nothing to be shy or embarrassed about.

* He calls you cute pet names like babe, baby, honey, sweetheart, darling & love.

* He absolutely adores you, you can do no wrong in his eyes. He admires your openness and your ability to care for others, he loves that you’re genuine, caring, funny, sweet and generous. He’s in love with your personality and just everything about you.

* He always talks about you, he tells Rueben, Jake and Mickey about how much he cares about you and they jokingly tease him about it.

* Maverick knew from the start that you two were meant to be, he called it way before Phoenix and Hangman did.

* Phoenix and Hangman made a bet about you two getting together.

* Natasha and Jake watched as Bradley and Y/n were on the beach, Bradley picked up Y/n as she wrapped her legs around his torso, he spun her around as she started giggling “Stop! Put me down” She smiles. “How much do you wanna bet that they’re going to get together?” Natasha says looking up at Jake. “Mmm $50 I doubt they would”

* And behold a month later you and Bradley announced you were officially dating, Natasha’s eyes lit up as she turned to Jake. “What’d I say?” She says in a tone of excitement. “Hand over the money bitch” she laughs “Oh fuck you” he says throwing the money at her before then flicking her nose.

* You like to tease him in public when you’re bored, you love watching him get more and more turned on as you pretend you’ve done nothing and don’t what you’re doing.

* He likes.. no loves leaving hickies and love bites on you. After sex you’ll wake up the next morning with hickies on your thighs, neck, breasts, and stomach. He’s also very vocal during sex, he wants you to know how good you make him feel.

*He loves when you’re loud he loves knowing that only he can make love to you that good, only he can make you cum hard, on he can make your body shutter and crave his touch.

*He finds it so attractive when you express your jealousy. He loves when you get rowdy, when another girl is flirting with him. Speaking of he’s extremely loyal, he always shuts down other girls who flirt with him. He loves telling you about it to irritate you.

* Y/n watched from across the bar as a girl continued to smile and twirl her hair whilst talking to her boyfriend as Natasha tried calming down her best friend. “Fuck this” I say placing my drink down. I walk towards them “Hey babe” I say hugging Bradley from the side. “Hey b-” I cut him off with a kiss without thinking. I slide my hands down his body then pulling him closer deepening the kiss. She stops and glares at the girl. “Leave” She says coldly, the girl awkwardly walks away leaving Y/n with her boyfriend. “That was kind of hot” Rooster mumbled.

* Everyone rooting for the two of you and wanting you two to get married.

* Bradley takes you to get you hair and nails done, and takes you out to an amazing restaurant to go eat and then ends the night off with a walk on the beach. As you’re walking you see rose petals up on the beach you’re confused nonetheless, but continue walking hand-in-hand with your boyfriend. You look up at the night sky listening to the sound on the oceans waves crashing you look at your boyfriend to see him down on one knee.

* “Y/n L/n will you make me the luckiest man on earth and be my wife? I’ve been in love with you since the day i’ve met you and I want you as my wife. I want to grow old with you, I want to have children with you I want to start a new life with you” he smiles teary eyed. You smile and jump into his arms with tears in your eyes too “Yes Bradley! I love you so much” You smile wrapping your legs around his torso placing a warm kiss on his lips, you take a moment to admire everything he did for the proposal.

* You call Natasha and tell her all about it. She’s just as excited as you are and she’s the maid of honor, meanwhile Bradley asks Maverick to be his. In which Mav says yes.

* You two getting married and everyone there being supportive, all of you and Bradley’s friends were there and some family too. Your wedding was amazing.

* Two years into your marriage you and Bradley have a beautiful baby girl, Evangeline Carole Bradshaw. You and your now husband couldn’t have been happier.

Authors Note: Hey everyone! I’m so sorry for not updating, I’ve been busy with a lot of things. Bye loves :) I hope you enjoyed leave requests in the comments!

[alatusxiaoo]

genshin boys: taking you out on doomsday

“i was ready to watch the world end with you.”

character/s: albedo, childe, kaedehara kazuha, gorou, scaramouche, thoma, xiao

note: 500 special hehe :”)) setting takes place in the modern era, in the middle of humanity’s last war before the preordained end of time. inspired by various prompts,, and absolutely huge thanks to my mutuals for saving my ass on this 😩😩

+ so this is love — ilene woods !!

ALBEDO

knowing albedo, he’d take you out to a covert meadow of flowers — a truly refreshing change of perspective, other than the previously sickening sight of rubble and detritus, and the dizzying whiff of rising clouds of fumes. you had expected your lover to whisk you off into his provisional laboratory in hopes of concocting some last-minute solution, but you’re only greeted by the melancholic sight of a hunched frame carefully unpacking some art materials and a worn-out sketchbook out of his light baggage.

albedo wants to craft art out of you — one more time, he claims. wants to trace your endearing blemishes and lovely curves onto canvas, wants to smudge sundry hues of acrylics squeezed out of the last bits of his flattened tubes, wants to remember the rose-tinted glasses he’s seen and loved you through for the flamboyant and blissful half of his dreary trivial life.

he paints your smile — the one with the lovely little crinkles scrunched in the corners of your eyes — and with each graze of pigmented bristles on the pristine sheet, he still refuses to understand why you hated an endearing aspect of yourself with such disgust. (if he could reason your beauty in words, there would be no reason to paint.)

he paints the sky — the faint black strokes of launched missiles hastily whooshing by — captures your unmistakable gaze towards the ethers and reflected how the world burned before your eyes. warm tan and burnt white smeared over wilting flowers, splashes of brilliant orange and charcoal on abstruse configurations of explosions. (it takes every single ounce of his mastered talents to make the end more picturesque than reality proves itself to be.)

each cautious brush and curve across the canvas feels somewhat heavier than the last one — it’s almost as if he’s carving the distinct image on his fair skin, forcing himself to hold onto the last fragments of the old memory even when he treks towards the afterlife.

if only we could feel what we remember, albedo thinks as he slowly loses himself in the immersive and quiet little sanctuary of your dainty meadow, giving himself a few selfishly borrowed seconds of innocence and forgotten normality before the clock finally reaches midnight — and not just remember what we felt.

CHILDE

in the apocalypse, childe would most likely take you out on his own spin of a moderately romantic getaway…accompanied with the familiar yet questionably illegal faces of cigarettes, heroin and cocaine — every kind of narcotic you could dream of and perhaps even more, while scavenging through the abandoned pitstops and deteriorating establishments.

he’d take you to one of the less perishing roofs, and you’d swing your legs over the edge of the building, puffing out smoke rings while watching the blazing fire slowly creep towards the starry sky.

childe has always kept the habit of thieving your cigarettes as well — snatching them from between your fingers when you had let your guard down, and bringing them against his lips with a knowing smirk. “damn it asshole, stop stealing mine!” you chided with an exasparated frown, slapping his shoulder out of spite.

and he’d only laugh while listening to you bicker about your purloined stick, before eventually pulling you into his chest for a sloppy excuse of a kiss. the prominent flavor of smoke pervades through your senses, and he smiles when your shoulders slowly relax, between every latch and press of his bitter-laced appendages on yours.

to him, you’ve always tasted better than any other drug. it’s honestly no surprise to either of you how much of an addict your lover has grown to become, and willingly hold himself eternally prisoner against the saccharine flavor glazed across every inch of your plush lips. (childe, he hears you whisper.)

but he doesn’t listen — his hand reaches to possessively cup your cheek and pull you into a deeper kiss fueled with passion. (childe, it comes again, this time a bit louder.)

he doesn’t want to listen — he can feel his own tears begin to tumble down his pallid face. (childe.)

(wake up.)

and he’ll finally break away with reddened eyes, met with the lonely sight of a mere cigarette stick left beside him on the crumbling roof. he stares down blankly at the pristine and untouched narcotic — it usually takes him a minute or two for the situation to register in his fuzzy mind. but when it does, his slender fingers would tremble while he instinctively pulls out another stick from his box, and frantically ignite it with the small flicker of his lighter. (come back.)

it won’t always work quickly. he blinks a few times, desperately puffs a handful of rings — and all of a sudden you’re sitting right beside him again, in all your unparalleled beauty and contemplative countenance, studying the rampant inferno that was gradually drawing closer to your presently collapsing structure. childe shakily sighs in relief with a dazed smile, closing his eyes as he lovingly intertwines his grimy fingers with your unblemished ones. “haven’t you gotten tired of this already?”

i love you — is what he wants to say, one last time, as the air soon grows heavy with the impending thick fog of fumes. but it doesn’t feel right to do so…not when it really wasn’t you he was talking to, and perhaps not when the both of you knew he was already about to die alone. “you know they won’t let me in heaven with you, darling. this is all i’ll have left of you before doomsday is over.”

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

(3:00 pm.) spending doomsday together would begin with him stumbling perchance across an untarnished concrete picnic table, despite the frequent collisions of launched bombs and the clockwork ringing of bullets echoing throughout the open territory of the oddly blooming hill.

(3:15 pm.) you’d both lay on top of the table beneath missile-streaked sunsets befalling across the skies, wondering who had placed it there and if they had been in love the way you both were. he’d pick you little flowers and hid them in spots the world would forget about. he’d write you haikus and poetry — you’d ramble about forever like it had always been there, and still was.

(5:47 pm.) you could do anything with him for hours, all to pretend like the world wasn’t clearly falling apart today. but as the soft rumbles of thunder reverberated through the moderately darkening sky, your dreadful circumstances felt like an uncomfortable itch steadily creeping up your skin, all the more harder to nonchalantly ignore.

(7:32 pm.) kazuha’s eyes are fluttered close, and his chest heaves gracefully in light breaths. you’re not certain if you have enough courage to do the same — not when you could hear the faint crashes of a rising tsunami and distant yet blood-curling screams from beneath your little hill, spreading across the expanse of pulverized establishments and growing louder by every inching second.

(8:26 pm.) short breaks in between words drew out to become longer pauses in your hasty sentences. your thoughts are messy and filled with terror, and yet his warm thumb rubbing comforting circles across your hand makes the frantic voices in your head quiet down. it tears your brain apart even more.

(10:07 pm.) it’s closer to the end now — he thinks, as he takes deep whiffs of your lingering scent when you’re wrapped securely in his loving embrace, as his feathery fingers trace the dips in your waist and the corners of your hips, seemingly trying to ingrain the vague perfume and the familiar shape of you in his mind. he wonders if the gods would allow him to be so selfish, to somehow take the memories of it with him to the other side.

(11:42 pm.) the thunder is getting louder, but there are no more screams. perhaps it’s just you and him left — and perhaps that’s the way it has always been.

(11:51 pm.) when you stare into his intimate ruby irises, it feels like the first time you’ve seen them all over again.

(11:56 pm.) you know i love you, right?

(11:57 pm.) i know, it’s okay.

(11:58 pm.) “close your eyes.” he breathes for the last time, in the softest of whispers.

(11:59 pm.) you listen and do as he says.

(12:00 am.) the world ends, and his eyes are on you.

GOROU

“well, what are you waiting for?”

the only one among all the boys who is (literally) trying to take you out. his fingers lightly tremble against the bizzarre sensation of the trigger — even the slightest of trivial movements could release the bullets locked in his barrel and fly rapidly over to you.

the violet sky rumbles with faint flashes of lightning, as the murky mantle of thickening fog encapsulates him and you. condensed droplets aggressively trample down the fractured streets you both stood on — the coldness of the trickling liquid across his grimy features sends him into a phase of further contemplation. it’s certain that your blood on his hands makes him loyal to sangonomiya, but does it make him loyal to you?

gorou presumes you think you know where his priorities lie — it’s evident in your softened gaze and loosened stance on your own gun, clear that you weren’t willing to fight nor disagree with loss to such a cruel ending. and if only his heart were as cold and bitter as he pretended it to be, perhaps he could easily get over this.

but it’s quite warm and rather insatiable…too greedy for both loyalty and you, determined and hopeful to not let either of them go. you forget that emotions could be stronger than rationality.

“do it. shoot me.”

“you know i can’t.” his voice cracks at the end of his sentence, the words ache in his burning throat. it’s childish, he knows — to think there was room for love in the end of the world.

the heavens roar with a thundering scream. it sounds like his mind, it feels like his heart. pull the trigger — you coaxed with desperation — your loyalty to them matters more than yours to me.

the deafening tempest refuses to subside, raindrops falling hard and bristling across your faces…it was perplexing to distinguish salty tears from the mild-flavored downpour. but if one thing was for certain amidst the strident chaos, it was the unmistakable sound of a distinctive gunshot reverberating throughout the abandoned metropolis.

a silhouette staggers before dropping their previously wielded gun, ensuing a petrified expression from the other unwounded and gaping figure.

gorou’s final breaths are stolen with raspy and incoherent words — his bright face grows pallid and seemingly haggard from pressing hard on his bleeding abdomen. if i die like this, at least i’d still have both.

he watches as you begin to negligently scamper forward, however the faint trek of a group of footsteps cause you to abruptly pause in your tracks. you can feel something like tears slowly well in the corners of your eyes — as you anxiously glance back and forth from your fallen lover, to the direction of the sound of approaching strides, wondering what was the better choice to make between the two.

run — gorou eventually mouths with a fatigued smile, the salty flavor of blood dominant and permeating his sense of taste. i’ll see you on the other side.

you stare at him in horror at the heartless suggestion, but the resonant treads grow louder with each passing second. fear creeps into your skin as you hesitantly take one dubious step back, shutting your eyes and incomprehensibly cursing beneath your breath, before soon breaking into a begrudging run for it without ever daring to look back.

he waits for your familiar profile to completely disappear behind the veiled mist, and lets out a shaky sigh of relief when you’re finally gone, masking his face with a bloody hand, as his vision blurs and the deluge eventually fades into a softer drizzle.

“i suppose doomsday even knows my world still ends with you, love.”

SCARAMOUCHE

stargazing.

it’s boring, it’s pathetic — it’s a complete and utter waste of what little ticking time of trickling sands in the hourglass is left,

yet despite all contradictory and reiterated protests he could try and reason with all day in the back of his mind…the time offered left to him wouldn’t be more than enough to draw an ultimately rational conclusion. and so he’s here.

the vast meadow of grass is not as comfortable as the stories always picture it out to be. it’s itchy and pokes through the sheer cloth of his garments, crawling with hundreds of bugs and inconspicuous puddles of mud in tiny pockets of space, it teems with too much radiance and natural life that he wished he could just crush it all within his calloused hands. the brilliant fires creeping from a considerable distance didn’t make it the circumstances any better either — it only caused the temperature to spike drastically (if it clearly wasn’t scorching enough already), and it was getting harder to simply take fresh breaths in the presently polluted expanse.

it’s so annoying — he grumbles lowly to himself as his fingers lazily trace the skin of your waist in obscure yet soothing patterns. your warm breath fans across his neck with your head leaning against his shoulder, and it doesn’t help the irritating sensation of tightness in his chest…if anything, you were only making his stupid useless heart beat worse.

scaramouche despises it, loathes the fluttering emotions with every mere fiber of his body, abhors the way you always stared at him like that — when did your eyes begin to look so different to him?

“the stars look nice tonight.” you hum in a soft voice, childishly pointing up to the illuminated sky. indigo irises ignore the cries and beckons of a sliver of it’s unwavering attention — constellations intricately crafted from meager white dots were not worth admiring up at when he already had you.

“stop moving, idiot. you’re making this more intolerable than it already is.” he scoffs through gritted teeth, noticing the flickers of fire writhing closer to your shared and clandestine little area. he watched as streaks of pearl white began to paint the gloomy ethers, slowly descending as it began to build momentum within its scintillating plunge. (so it seems their doomsday has come too.)

a thousand times — he knew it all too well. that if the stars were falling and the ground was shaking and the world was finally ending,

“scara?” came a trembling whimper from your lips.

he’d still find you.

“i’m here, loser.” his sooty fingers cup your cheek for one last time, gently caressing the undefiled patch of skin beneath your lovely yet defeated eyes.

and he hates it.

“just look at me.” he breathes in a weakened whisper, affectionately brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “keep your eyes on nothing but mine.”

he hates that he cares.

THOMA

in an apocalyptic world, he would probably take you out on a nice little joyride through the abandoned streets of billowing smoke and debris — after successfully managing to hijack a broken-down scarlet convertible, situated inside a crumbling garage under the neighboring building.

it takes every fiber inside of you to not slap your forehead at the childish idea of it, however the mere sight of your lover awkwardly posing beside the dilapidated vehicle tempts you to burst out in a fit of uproarious laughter. thoma’s heart flutters at the adorable sight of you biting back a wide smile, and he holds out his hand to you with a flashy sweep and a charming grin. “shall we be off, my lady?”

“we shall.” you snicker, taking in his warm fingers as you both slide into the worn-out car seats, sharing giddy smiles stretched across your flushed cheeks.

thoma would drive with no particular destination in mind — he would simply pass through the places you both used to know, and you’d spend the last hours together talking in languages so old, so foreign, that the mere fleeting memory of it so long turned to dust.

he would navigate off into the sunset, and you’d find yourselves lying on the hood of your convertible which was parked on a secluded cliff — watching the sky burn, with wisps of smoke and fog spiraling in the faint distance, as you two tangled yourselves in limbs and wondered if either of you would ever find such warmth once more on the other side.

“it just us against the world, my lady.” thoma breathed hoarsely against your lips with a bittersweet smile, absentmindedly twirling his fingers through your soft locks of hair. “i suppose it always has been that way.”

you stared at your reflection in his exhausted and teary-looking eyes — the sight of your familiar soiled face and blasts of illuminance behind the expanse of viridescent trees, witnessing its violent detonations and the frequent crackles of lightning gradually creeping closer to your little field. the whole world was reaching its impending doom, and yet it still felt like the beginning of everything and nothing.

“forever and always.”

XIAO

for xiao, the world has ended many times for him and began again in the morning. he neither pays heed nor attention to it when doomsday befalls the universe.

he met you at the end of the world — when he nonchalantly ambled through deserted streets with a grocery bag in hand, and saw you hunched on the rubbled sidewalk with an oddly unperturbed countenance. one curt conversation led to another, and the next thing he knew, you had persuaded him into sprinting together through the stranded roads in silly hopes of making less shittier memories before doomsday was over.

more had happened in the span of two fleeting hours than the past monotonous weeks of his transient life. your mismatched pair had eventually proved itself to be a rather interesting combination — your candid yet welcoming personality growing on his usually reserved character (it feels like evergreen ivy crawling across his pale skin.), how you two had the ability to hold a drawn-out conversation without ever running out of subjects to ramble about (it feels somewhat familiar, like traipsing through a warm home that wasn’t supposed to be his.), the mere fact that the world has ended for you too many times as well…doomsday doesn’t seem to faze you either anymore. (it feels like you’ve known each other longer than this.)

but there could be other peculiar things about you and him as well — like the tacit and undeniably electric sensation of each accidental brush within both of your cursory fingers, or perhaps the lingering scent of you infused all over his disheveled clothes…or it could have been the sugary taste of strawberries on your candy-coated lips when he pins your frame against the shadow of the brick wall to kiss you. (finally — he thinks, after agonizing hours and numerous instances of staring for too long.)

to the dying universe, doomsday was the skyglow tinged ethers burning from the rampant inferno, smeared with nuclear weapons and blood-curling screams that swept throughout the perishing expanse. it was the distant rumbles of thunder and blinding flashes of lightning, the towering tsunamis trampling over meager establishments and intimidating skyscrapers, the singularly inevitable omen of death and impending doom for all of life itself.

to the two fools, doomsday was the perchance meeting at the end of the world, seeping through the vulnerable crevices of tightly secured hearts and tearing down lofty walls you’ve compelled yourselves to build after enough pain. it was the sporadic warmth emanating from intertwined fingers, the merging silhouettes of two perched at the tip of a thin cliff, the faint ripples of laughter and clandestine smiles exchanged while the stars went out.

doomsday signaled both the beginning of an end — and the end of a beginning.

so this…is love.

[mercy-burning]

Affection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!

———

I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—

That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.

With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.

"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"

Thinking about it made her blood boil.

"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"

The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.

Well... She could.

He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.

It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.

Nothing was working.

And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.

"Hey!"

Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)

"Hey! Dumbass!"

Still nothing.

As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.

"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"

"I hate you."

It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.

If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.

Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."

"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."

His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.

"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"

"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.

Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.

"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."

"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."

She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.

She just... had to figure out how to make that true.

Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."

Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.

The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.

To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.

The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.

As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...

Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.

"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."

He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.

"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"

Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.

She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.

"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.

They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.

It was a nightmare.

The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.

God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...

Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.

He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.

But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.

Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.

Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.

Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.

Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."

She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.

"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."

He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."

While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.

"Hm."

Y/N sighed. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."

Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

"Sure."

Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.

So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.

And now that it was right in front of her?

She didn't know what to make of it.

"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.

Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"

Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"

"That's not... That's not what that was!"

"Oh really? Then what was it?"

"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."

The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...

But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.

"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"

Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."

She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.

"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"

When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.

In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."

"It's so fun."

"You know what, screw you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"

She didn't let him finish.

In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.

Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.

And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.

He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."

She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"

He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."

"And... You're not messing with me this time?"

With a laugh,  Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."

Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."

He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.

———

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[russiandoll-from-brooklyn]

Just Once - Part 2

Title: Just Once - Part 2

Some of y'all were asking for Part 2 of Just Once so here ya go! This picks up right after the first story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Summary: Grief and loneliness got the best of you last night. Your friendship with Tony was too precious to risk, and now all you want to do is move on. But what happens when the other party doesn't want to forget?

Warnings: smut, language, (technically) cheating, friends to lovers, mentions of past canon trauma, oral (f receiving), protected sex

Word Count: 5.1k

[Starts out sweet and all about tony x reader friendship, then turns into steamy Tony smut. Table sex, included. 😳]

---

Thump, thump, thump.

Your feet hit the pavement rhythmically as you jog your normal morning route. It’s a misty Seattle morning, and the world is still quiet. The sun is rising sleepily, beginning to bathe the world in gold. All is well.

Except. It isn’t.

You turn the block corner, and your apartment comes into sight. You take a glance down at your watch.

42 minutes.

That’s how long ago you had quietly slipped out of your apartment for your morning run. That’s how long it had been since your eyes shot open and you remembered the events of last night, rushing into your mind, all at once like a tsunami. You had turned your head to find Tony still asleep beside you in the bed. One leg sticking out of the messy sheets and his face buried in the pillow. Your pillow.

You had stared at him in disbelief, half-expecting him to disintegrate into a fleeting figment of your imagination. You had rubbed your eyes, trying to clear the haze.

Nope. Still there.

You silently curse yourself and your stupidity (see: weakness in the face of sexual temptation) for the 50th time this morning as you approach the brick building. Perhaps, when you reenter your apartment, Tony will be gone, and this will all have just been a bad trip — or something of the like.

Before you even open the door, the smell of frying bacon reaches your nose. You step inside and are greeted by a peculiar sight.

Tony Stark, clad in nothing but a pair of dark jeans, is buzzing about your small kitchenette. Simultaneously, there are eggs being flipped over-easy on the stovetop, orange juice being procured from the open fridge, bacon sizzling happily in a pan, and toast being buttered. You stand in amazement for a few seconds, processing the scene before you. The wonderful aroma of the all-American breakfast makes you mouth water.

“Y/N! Hey!” Tony exclaims when he sees you.

You slide onto a stool at the bar top, overlooking the controlled chaos unfolding in the kitchen area. Tony truly has remarkable skill when it comes to multitasking. You guess, all that time in the suit, operating about twenty computing systems at once, was good practice.

“Wow. Breakfast?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you cook?”

He scoffs, shooting you a brief smile before turning away to rapidly crack some black pepper onto the eggs.

“Cooking is easy. People think it’s a skill, but really it’s just planning, timing it out. It’s like assembling anything else. You just do the parts in order, trying not to break any yolks.”

You roll your eyes sarcastically at the classic “Tony” response.

Suddenly, all the components come crashing together, and Tony is setting down two perfectly assembled breakfast plates on the bar top — complete with a glass of orange juice for each of you. It looks delicious; it’s been way too long since you had a proper breakfast. Meaning, a breakfast that wasn’t cereal, a protein bar, or a bowl of sad, pale, scrambled eggs. You thank Tony as he pulls up the other stool to sit across from you.

“Dig in,” he says cheerfully, raising his fork. “Good run this morning?”

You nod, taking a big gulp of orange juice.

“Yeah, I heard you leaving,” Tony continues mindlessly. “Kind of weird waking up to an empty bed after a night like that. I finally know what it feels like to be on the other side, I guess.”

You nearly spit out your bite of toast. And just like that, reality comes crashing back down to earth. For a brief moment, it had felt like things could possibly come out normal on the other side. You and Tony could go back to being perfectly normal best friends.

How ignorant.

“What?” you remark incredulously.

You’re on the verge of laughter, partially out of amusement but mostly out of bewildered embarrassment.

Tony gives you his award-winning “I’m innocent!” raised-eyebrow expression. You suddenly become acutely aware of the situation. Tony Stark is sitting in your kitchen, shirtless, serving you breakfast. After you spent a far-from-platonic night rolling around your sheets together. You want to slap yourself.

“I’m talking about the incredible sex we had last night. And then, you leaving me alone before sunrise,” Tony explains casually, pushing your buttons further. “That's usually my play.”

He looks up at you, expecting a playful quip in return. Instead, you just slowly set down the fork you had been gripping.

“Tony,” you begin, seriously and calmly. “Let’s not talk about it. It was one night, and it won’t happen again. It was just once. We gave into the moment, but we shouldn’t-“

“The moment?” Tony suddenly blurts out, interrupting you. You purse your lips, surprised by the new and unexpected edge of anger in his voice. “God. Y/N. The moment, huh? You’re really just going to shrink it down to that. Just a moment.”

You stare at him, confused. Tony’s big brown eyes hold yours with an intensity. It's amazing how fast his sarcastic, playful tone can morph into ferocity. You want to look away, break his gaze, but you can’t. This whole thing was a mistake.

“It was fun,” you finally say. “But it was just a fuck. We were lonely.”

“You know, Y/N. You’re so damn smart,” Tony replies, leaning back a bit in his seat. “So, why do you always try and kid yourself? It bothers me. I know -- that you know -- that this wasn’t just a fuck.”

Your mind races through a million different responses.

Then, what was it?

What do you mean?

Why are you acting like this?

I'm not kidding myself.

But something tells you, deep down, that there's nothing you can say that won't lead to something you don't want to hear.

So, instead, you angrily snatch up your glass of orange juice, rising from your seat at the bar. You grit your teeth at Tony one more time before turning your back and striding toward to your study. You feel your cheeks burning hot.

The study is a second living room-sized space where you keep all your projects. Early sunlight is now streaming in through the large windows, falsely giving the impression of a peaceful Saturday morning. The large wooden table tops are littered with wires, microchips, and other electronic parts. When you first met the Avengers year ago, you and Tony butted heads over your shared expertise in technology and robotics. After much bickering and trying to outdo each other, you eventually accepted one another's intelligence and bonded over your shared field.

You look to the floor of your large study to see the air mattress you had set up there prior to Tony's arrival yesterday, obviously still pristine. You squeeze your eyes shut. Your apartment is absolutely dripping with reminders of last night's events. The empty whiskey glasses, still sitting on the side table in the living room. The couch pillows crumpled from the weight of your bodies, hungrily crashing together above them. You don't even want to think about your bedroom, where you're sure Tony's missing shirt is strewn on the ground.

You push the thoughts out of your your mind, pulling up a seat at your work table. You start to fiddle with a new lightweight shoulder pauldron you're currently designing. You can feel yourself going into 'shut-out' mode, trying your hardest to focus all your attention on the metal in your hands. This was all too much. This was all wrong.

When you hear footsteps behind you, entering the study, you ignore it. Tony quietly traverses the floor, coming to pull up a chair on the other side of the work table. He silently watches you working the wires into place. You don't look up. You don't have to see his expression to know the contemplative expression undoubtably painted on his face. You also don't have to look at him to know he's pondering more than just your work.

"You know, aluminum-titantium alloy won't hold up after a few heavy hits," Tony comments, nodding to the armor piece.

"I'm gonna chromatize it," you reply dryly, not looking up from your hands.

"I wouldn't bother. You can't just give everything a shiny coat to hold it together. If the problem is underneath, that is."

Fuck Tony and his fucking metaphors.

You growl angrily, throwing the pauldron down in frustration. You sit back in your seat and cross your arms, finally meeting your friend's eyes.

"Ok, fine," you say matter-of-factly. "Let's talk about it. It was good. It was really fucking good. And we both needed it. But that's it. I'm willing to leave it at that and forget about it if you are."

Tony rubs his beard in his palm, seemingly mulling over your words. His brown eyes don't leave yours. The warm sunlight coming in through the window behind him paints yellow patches on his bare shoulders, bathing him in gold. You take a mental picture of him, sitting there in his thoughts. A brief, intrusive thought passes through your mind, threatening that this could be the last time you see him. You immediately banish the notion. This friendship means too much to you. Not even a fuck-up as big as this one could make you want to toss it away. You hope Tony agrees.

"Help me understand where your head's at, Y/N," Tony finally replies. "What is your biggest concern right now? Wait, listen, I know there's a lot of reasons why last night was bad. But I want to know what you're thinking."

You sigh, uncrossing your arms. As much as Tony's 'list-and-analyze' reaction to crisis could be annoying, in some ways, it comforted you. Tony is impulsive, yes, but those who know him best also know his calculative nature: the mental risk assessments, the contingency plans labelled through Z. Always searching for the route that will hurt everyone the least. Always.

You consider his question carefully. Again, there's a million answers: the risk of ruining your friendship, the potential awkwardness, Pepper -- oh, god, Pepper --, the pain and grief you've both been through in the past few years. You close your eyes and pick one.

"You're one of the only people left that I trust. One of my only friends. Complexity doesn't often end well."

"You're right," Tony admits. "But aren't you the one who asked, 'is it wrong to not want to be alone'?"

You scoff loudly, angered by his using your words against you. However, that bitterness melts away into nothing when you see the heart-wrenching expression on Tony's face. His lips are pursed, and his eyes are searching yours desperately. Tony rarely shows outward weakness, but right now, the man before you isn't Iron Man. The man before you is broken. Someone who has tried everything to hold it -- his sanity, his relationship, his life -- together, to save the people he loves, to be strong. Someone who failed at that. Someone who truly felt alone.

You rest your chin in your palms and sigh, the weight falling over you as well.

Finally, you speak.

"Isn't it awful -- and strange -- how it can feel like a lifetime ago and just yesterday at the exact same time?"

Tony nods sadly at your observation. Of course, you were talking about the snap. About Thanos.

"You're right. About everything," he remarks. "Sometimes, it just gets too much. The...”

Loneliness. You finish his sentence in your head.

“Me too.”

“You should know though,” Tony continues. “I would never stop being your friend. No matter how complex things are. This — what we’ve been through — could never change, Y/N.”

There it is.

Some situations feel like you're running in circles; you're spiraling downwards and everything you say only makes matters worse and worse. It feels like sinking in quicksand with no way out. In every one of those situations, there's a key -- that one sentence, that one idea, that effortlessly clears the fog. This was it. Tony is going to be here, always. Everything is going to be alright.

You straighten up a bit in your seat. You let out a long sigh and give Tony a small smile.

"I know," you assure your friend. "Sometimes I forget everything that's happened. How complicated it's been before. How we made it out."

Tony laughs, and you're relived.

"How could you forget? It's been a wild ride."

The two of you grin at each other. You take a sip of your orange juice, which you had forgotten about and was now lukewarm.

"OK, happy?" you inquire with a playful tone. "Base material fixed. No need for shiny coats of anything. We're solid now."

Tony lets out a hearty chuckle at the stupid analogy. Suddenly, he stands, circling the work table until he's right in front of you. You suck in a breath of oxygen. From your seated position, your head only comes up to his abs. Bare abs, that is. You tilt your face upwards to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," he says gently. “Stand up.”

Confused, you rise to your feet. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, Tony’s lean and muscular arms are wrapped around you. He pulls you into his chest, embracing you in his warmth. His grip is firm, as if he’s afraid you might run away. You soften into the hug, wrapping your arms around his back. You feel safe.

After a few moments, Tony releases you. However, he doesn’t move away, and the two of you are still nearly chest-to-chest. You peer up at him, and your friend’s warm toffee eyes meet yours.

“Wow, a Tony Stark hug?” you remark sarcastically. “I should play the lotto today.”

Tony chuckles under his breath. Despite your joking, it was true that Tony rarely gives hugs. He just isn’t the touchy-feely type — according to himself. Somehow this gesture, right now, meant everything. A hug was the most intimate thing Tony could have given you. It was a seal, a mark saying ‘I meant every word I just said.’

Tony is still standing directly in front of you, so close there’s only a magazine’s width between you. He’s so near that you can feel the warmth of his steady breathing, and the slight radiating heat from the arc reactor in his chest. Suddenly, you feel that familiar tug in your stomach. A rush of blood downwards...

“Tony-“

“Do you want me?” Tony cuts you off. His voice is low, gentle.

You suck in a breath of air at his words. Despite his directness, there's a detectable edge of nervousness in his tone. You smile internally at knowing you have this effect on Mr. Playboy. The slight uncertainty in Tony's voice also tells you that it's true: this is different. Last night was not just a mindless fuck. This is an understanding, wrapped around a mutual care that runs so deep that it burns.

You don’t even try to convince yourself that you don’t want Tony. Every ounce of your being is screaming to close the gap between you. You can still hear the scientist-logic-brain in you resisting, but your heart feels at ease. You and Tony. A concept that felt like the forbidden fruit itself just ten minutes ago now looked more like an oasis. And oasis that was maybe alright to take a drink from every once in a while.

You snake one hand upward to hold his cheek. Tony pushes gently into your palm.

It's you who leans in first. When your lips collide, it's soft. He presses himself into you, a delicate sigh escaping. You pull back just enough to whisper a breathy "I want you."

And oh, god do you want him.

“Then, have me,” Tony whispers back, gently.

You nearly visibly shiver. Any trace of hesitation is gone from his voice now. His words are demanding, but his tone is more of a plea.

“Do you want to go the bedroom?”

“No,” Tony replies immediately. He’s breathless. “Right here.”

You immediately feel wetness drop into your panties. Tony’s eyes have grow darker, as they bear down at you. The intensity makes your legs feel weak. You need him. He needs you.

In a moment of boldness, you bring your hands down to the hemline of your shirt. You lift the garment up and over your head, placing it on the work table beside you. Tony’s eyes wander to your red sports bra and your now-stiffened nipples showing through the sleek fabric.

In the next breath, Tony is suddenly kissing you again, his lips against yours in a desperate hunger. He brings his large, roughly calloused hands to your waist. He firmly grips your body, making you feel tiny in his hold. You let a small moan escape your lips.

Still holding you in his grasp, Tony starts to walk you backwards until your backside is pressed against the edge of your large work table. Tony’s hips press forward into you, making you gasp with excitement. You fingertips tangle in his hair, just wanting more and more and more...

In an effortless movement, Tony lifts your sports bra over your head. He throws the red fabric to the side, neither of you caring where it lands. Tony breaks away from your lips, starting to kiss down your cheek, jaw, and then finally giving attention to the delicate skin on your neck. Again, he’s careful not to nip or suck too hard to leave marks. The light scratching of his facial hair contrasts with the soft wetness of Tony’s lips, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

He continues to attend to your neck and jaw as one of his jean-clad thighs moves to fall between your legs. You let out a deep groan as Tony begins to rub and and roll his knee forward, stimulating your clothed core. His movements are like a wave, every forward crest bringing you a tiny bit of that friction your body wants so, so much. You’re in awe of the control Tony has over his movements and the effortless pleasure he’s capable of giving. You can’t help but find his experience and expertise sexy.

“Y/N,” Tony breathes against your neck. “Say it again. Please. Say you want me.”

It occurs to you that, aside from last night, Tony hasn’t felt wanted in a long time. Like, truly wanted. A pang of sadness fills your heart.

“Tony. I want you,” you declare, making sure the conviction in your voice shines through. You don’t have to try. You desire him more than anything right now. “I want you. I want this.”

With your words, Tony moans deeply into your jawline and begins to move his leg between yours more vigorously. Your fingertips trace over his bare back muscles. You trail your hands upward, into the nape of his neck, massaging his scalp. Everything about his beautiful form fits perfectly in your hands.

Tony continues moving downwards, soon finding your right nipple in his mouth. You arch your back, letting a loud moan escape your lips. He works your nipple expertly, rolling it and playing at it with his tongue. He alternates to your other nipple, his thumb replacing where his mouth just left. He lightly strokes the hard, spit-slick bud, and the combination of coolness and friction is heaven.

Tony stands back up, and a second later, his hands are at the elastic band of your running shorts. His eyes meet yours for a moment, silently asking for your permission. You nod a bit too eagerly, and Tony cracks a small, teasing smile. You scoff and lightly slap his shoulder, returning the smile.

Tony pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you in just your underwear. Next thing you know, Tony’s arms are around your waist. You let out a soft, surprised squeal as he lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the work table behind you. Slightly elevated now, you come to about the same height as Tony.

“Hey,” you protest playfully. “Be careful. There’s important stuff here.”

Tony reaches behind you to clear the area, moving your half-finished projects and parts to the side.

“My apologies, Ms. Y/L/N,” he replies with a huge grin. “Got a bit carried away.”

You pull him into another deep kiss. He growls with pleasure when you nip at his bottom lip. Tony is now standing between your knees, his torso pressing gently into your panty-covered pussy. You can feel his erection through his jeans, straining against his clothes. After seeing Tony’s length for the first time last night, the mental image of his cock — just a few millimeters away from your core — is enough to make you drool. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him in harder against you. He moans into your mouth, and you feel the vibrations as your tongues tangle together.

You feel Tony’s body leaning forward, slowly coaxing you to lay down on the table. Now fully on your back, Tony’s above you, taking in the sight of your body.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most magnificent creature on Earth?”

“No,” you reply with a smirk. “But now, knowing how many other planets are out there in the galaxy, just being Miss Earth doesn’t seem like a huge deal.”

Tony laughs, smiling with his teeth. You find the crinkles that form on the outer corners of his eyes utterly endearing.

“Well, you’re still one out of four-and-three-quarters billion,” he jests back. “Not too shabby. It’s all about the little victories.”

You giggle. The pleasant thought passes through your mind that despite the current situation, everything does feel strangely normal. Tony is still Tony; you’re still you. The banter between you and your friend is still comfortable and easy. Your relationship, although maybe morphing into something more nuanced, remains unmoved.

You’re so caught up in your inner thoughts, that you don’t register Tony kneeling to the ground between your legs. You gasp when you feel his warm mouth over your still-clothed pussy. The combined wetness of his mouth and your core easily soaks through the fabric of your panties, making it cling to your skin. Tony runs his tongue over your folds, through the saturated cloth. You groan with pleasure, the small of your back arching off of the table. You grip Tony’s dark hair, needing something to hold onto.

The sensation of Tony’s lips and tongue through your thin panties is completely unique, and fuck, does it drive you wild.

After a few minutes, Tony’s hands reach up to hook in the waist of your panties. He removes your final garment, leaving you fully bare. His mouth immediately returns to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, before running downwards through your lips, and then back up again. He alternates this pattern with gentle sucks on your clit.

“Oh, Tony. Shit,” you manage to call out. “That feels so good.”

He hums hungrily into you, pleasuring you to a level that no previous lovers have ever come close to. Tony’s large, rough hands wander upwards. One palm gentle grips your breast, while the other comes under your waist to hold the small of your back.

You raise your head slightly to glance down at Tony. The sight is pornographic. His face is buried in your cunt, head bobbing. The shape of his shoulder muscles, and his strong back. His tan skin, all bathed in golden sunlight.

Pleasuring you. On his knees.

It’s like a painting. Beautiful and erotic.

“Tony. I need you,” you gasp out, suddenly overcome with neediness. “Inside me. Fuck, I want you.”

Those magic words, again. I want you. The effect they have on Tony is instantaneous. Without hesitation, Tony is on his feet. He swiftly unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. His pants fall down to his ankles where he kicks them off. To your surprise his naked cock springs free. A glistening pearl of precum is formed at the tip.

“Wow, commando, huh?” you tease, gently biting at your bottom lip. “You were so confident you were going to get lucky again today?”

“Of course not. I just like to let it breath sometimes,” Tony remarks. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s a man thing.”

You scoff and roll your eyes sarcastically. Lovable idiot.

“Top drawer?” Tony asks, referring to the location of the condoms.

“On the left.”

Tony hurries out of the room and returns a second later with a condom from your bedroom. Stepping closer between your knees, he gives his cock a few pumps in his fist. You can feel your heart quickening with anticipation. Your pussy is nearly pulsing, needing to be stretched and filled.

Tony rips open the shiny wrapper and rolls the condom down onto his length. You scoot slightly closer to the edge of the table as his hands travel to grip your thighs. You moan deeply as Tony rubs the head of his cock over your slit, spreading your moisture.

“Are you ready?” Tony asks, eyes dark with desire.

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Make me feel good.”

With that, Tony starts slowly pushing into your dripping pussy. You groan as your walls accommodate to his girth. It’s amazing that you took him just last night, and he’s already capable of stretching you like this again. Tony throws his head back, hissing in pleasure as he bottoms out, his pubic mound flush against yours.

He starts pumping gently. The way Tony’s hips roll forward in fluid motions makes you want to scream with pleasure. His hands are gripping your thighs tightly, fingertips digging into the soft flesh.

Tony’s pace quickens, and soon the room is filled with sounds of wetness, skin slipping on skin, and the moans leaving both your throats. One of Tony’s hands moves to your pussy. His thumb rubs tight circles on your clit making you see stars behind your eyes. The extra stimulation almost immediately starts tightening the orgasmic coil in your stomach. Tony seems to know the exact speed to move his cock and thumb to turn you into a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Oh, more,” you groan, your pleasure growing. “Tony Stark. Yes, oh, please.”

“Come for me, Y/N,” Tony growls almost primally. “Wanna feel you squeezing around my cock.”

Tony’s filthy demands go straight to your pussy. You love the feeling of being under him, sprawled out on the table, completely naked for him to fuck. And the dirty talk is the cherry on top.

The pleasure in your abdomen continues to rise until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. With one last thrust, your orgasm washes over you. You scream Tony’s name into the room, not caring who hears. Pulses of pleasure rip through your entire body, even making your feet tingle. When you come down, the convulsions slowing, your head feels fuzzy and bubbly.

Not even a moment later, you feel Tony lifting your legs higher. Still inside you, he straightens them, bringing your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The new sensation is instantly nirvana. He starts pumping into you, and the head of his cock rubs your G-spot on every thrust. Penetrative sex had never felt this good for you.

“You feel so fucking amazing, Y/N,” Tony manages to says between moans. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

The feeling of your pussy being pounded in this angle has your eyes rolling back into your skull. All your thoughts seem to leave your head. The only thing you can focus on is the immense pleasure. The sound of Tony’s balls slapping against you wetly with every stroke combined with his desperate moans fill your ears.

Tony’s thrusts start to become more jagged, needy. His moans slowly transform more into whimpers as he continues to fuck into you. Suddenly, Tony comes with a series of loud groans, his eyes shut tight. You feel his dick pulsating inside you as he orgasms. He thrusts a few more times, riding out the last waves.

He gently slides out of you, his hands coming down the tabletop next to your waist to steady himself. Both of you are breathing heavily, your bodies radiating with the afterglow of pleasure.

Silently, Tony helps you to stand before sweeping you up easily in his arms. You lean into his chest as he carries you to the bedroom. Tony lays you down carefully on the cool mattress before hurrying to the bathroom. He returns a moment later with a warm washcloth.

After cleaning yourselves up, Tony crawls into the refreshing sheets beside you. He slips one arm under your neck, and you cuddle in closer to his body. The warmth and smoothness of his skin is so, so welcoming. In the strangest way, it feels natural.

“I didn’t think it was possible to top last night,” you finally say, chuckling.

“Me neither,” Tony replies. “I guess we just have good chemistry.”

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh and drape an arm over his chest. “Hey, question.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you cook all that stuff earlier? Like the eggs, toast, the whole nine yards. It was sort of...”

“Out of character?” Tony finishes your sentence.

You nod. Tony takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

“Honestly, when I woke up, and you were gone, I was freaking out a little bit. I wanted to talk about last night, but you weren’t there, and I just didn’t know what you were thinking. If you were having serious regrets, or if you were angry, or upset with me. Or if you were thinking our whole friendship was burned to the ground.

“I just needed to do something. Anything. Busy my hands, distract my mind. Sorry that I kind of raided your kitchen.”

You turn to peer up at him, letting out a soft laugh. His chocolate eyes meet yours, and you give him a kind smile, endeared by his typical, hyper ramblings.

“I’m sorry I left,” you start. “I was freaking out a little, too. I guess that’s always been a difference between us. I always try to run from the unknown, while you just want to plow straight through it.”

Tony smiles warmly and blinks his gorgeous, thick black eyelashes at you.

“It’s why we make a good pair. Balance. Yin and yang. Ya’ know.”

You both chuckle, content in one another’s arms. You open your mouth to reply, but you’re cut off by a loud growl from your stomach. Tony bursts into laughter.

“Your fault for barely touching breakfast,” Tony remarks playfully. “Which — not to toot my own horn — was quite artfully made.”

“I guess I could settle for a bowl of lowly cereal as punishment,” you reply with mock sadness.

Tony chuckles and shakes his head. He starts to rise from the bed, then offers his hand for you to follow.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some more eggs.”

[thighs-of-betrayal-blog]

The Flight You Won’t Forget

Pairing: Loki x fem! Reader

Summary: When Loki lost that bet to Thor, you were there to accompany him on the heist. What happened on that plane, however, is something you’ll take to the grave...

Warnings: Smut, 18+, fingering, slight praise kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cursing

A/N: So, I’ve been thinking about this scene from Loki for a while now and... this is what came out of it. Do I regret it? Absolutely not. It was very hot to write.

I hope you enjoy and as always, feedback is appreciated :) 

Relaxing back into your chair, you stare out the window and watch as the ground gets smaller, until the clouds cover and you’re no longer able to see it. 

Voices boom around you as people are in their own world, doing their own thing. 

Your seatbelt is fastened tight around your waist until you receive further instruction. As you look around, you gather as much information as you can. The man in the aisle across from you is reading a book. The woman in front of him is already asleep. The couple behind you are bickering about which bouquet to order for their wedding. 

“What exactly are we doing on this plane again?” you suddenly ask. 

Next to you, Loki lowers his magazine, revealing his face. Black sunglasses sit low on his nose and his usual black hair is replaced by blonde, curly locks that sit atop his head. “I told you. I lost a bet to Thor.” 

“Are all your bets this extreme?” 

Loki smirks at you, his eyes showing over the very top of his sunglasses, a mischievous glint reflecting in them. “If something isn’t at least a little chaotic, then where’s the fun, darling?” 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you chuckle before looking back out the window. “Whatever you say.” 

Overhead, one of the flight attendant’s speaks through the plane’s intercom. “I sure hope you’re all enjoying your plane ride with us today. I just want to let you know that we’re five hours from landing. Thank you and let us know if you need anything.” 

Feeling Loki’s stare on you, you turn your attention back onto him. 

“Five hours is a long time,” he says, closing the magazine and placing it back into the little compartment in front of him. 

“We aren’t going to be on the plane for the full five hours,” you respond, confused as to what he’s getting at. 

“Yes, but at least for another hour... If only there was a way to pass the time.” 

Following his line of sight, you notice he’s referring to the bathrooms, his suggestion finally clicks in your mind. 

“Oh, no,” you say. “Just no.” 

“Why not, darling? You wouldn’t like a little adventure?” 

Wanting to slap the smirk right off his beautiful face, you scoff. “What we’re doing here is bad enough! You want to make a whole other scene on top of that?” 

“Who said we’d make a scene? You know how to be quiet.” He leans in towards you, his mouth inches from your ear. “And, if you don’t, I’ll make sure to shut you up.” 

Gulping, a shiver runs down your body, setting you on fire from the inside, out. 

Without noticing, his hand makes its way to your thigh, clamping down on your skin, caressing you with his thumb. 

“I have a sudden urge to use the restroom.” Loki says, suddenly standing up. His stare burns holes into you. “Your move.” 

As he walks down the aisle to the back of the plane, you watch as his suit jacket tightens around his back with each step. 

“Oh, fuck it,” you say, getting up and making a beeline after Loki to the bathrooms. 

Arriving in front of the door, you look around to make sure nobody is looking your way. When you confirm that no one is around, you check to see that the ‘occupied’ sign is on, so you knock. Immediately, the door opens and you’re yanked inside. 

Loki pushes your back up against the door and locks it. “So you decided to take the risk,” Loki mutters against your neck, his lips sucking on your skin. “That’s my good girl.” 

Moaning softly, you move your head, giving him more room to roam on your neck. 

His hands grip your waist, his long fingers pressing hard into your skin. His mouth moves from your neck, up to your lips, and he kisses you, claiming you entirely. “We don’t have too much time. Gonna have to fuck you hard and fast, darling. That sound good to you?” he says against your lips. 

You moan into his mouth at his words and his hands reach around to your butt, landing a harsh slap onto your right cheek. “I said, does that sound good to you?” 

“Yes,” you gasp out, the sting from his slap sending vibrations to your core. 

“Mmm, that’s what I like to hear.” He moves his hand in a swift motion and in an instant, both of you are naked, your clothes disposed of on the ground. 

You stare unabashedly at him, his erection thick and long, the tip slapping against his stomach. Loki stares right back, dragging his gaze up and down your body, biting his lip at the sight of you. 

“Such a lovely sight,” he says, pulling you flush against him. “And, it’s all mine.” 

His mouth connects to yours once more as he picks you up and places you on the sink counter. Goosebumps erupt over your skin from the cold sensation pressing against your butt and the back of your legs. 

He gives your lips one last kiss before he moves down from your jaw to your neck, and then to your chest, taking one of your breasts into his mouth. 

His hand cups your center and you moan out, the sound echoing off the walls. Immediately, his hand slaps over your mouth, his eyes shooting you a warning glare. “Now, what did I say about noise, darling?” 

“To not make any,” you whisper, body on fire from his touch. 

“Exactly. So, don’t or I’ll have to punish you,” he says, voice deep with command. As his one hand is still pressed over your core, he moves it so he can slip a finger inside of you as his thumb rubs slow circles into your clit. 

You arch your back in response, pushing your center farther into his hand. Smirking at you, he adds another finger, pumping them in and out of you fast. 

“As much as I love to watch you come undone with my fingers, I’d much rather you fall apart on my cock,” Loki mutters, his eyes dark with desire. 

Sliding his fingers out of you, he brings them up to his lips, staring at you as he sucks on them. “You always taste so sweet, darling.” He grasps your chin, tilting your head up slightly before kissing you, the taste of you fresh on his lips. 

Pulling you closer to the edge of the counter, he lines himself up with your entrance, his tip slightly prodding you. 

“Ready to join the mile high club?”

Covering your mouth, you prevent the loud laugh from escaping your throat. “Have you been wanting to say that this whole time?” 

Loki nods, his expression serious. “Yes. Thor told me about it. Why’re you laughing?”

“Just come here,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck to slam your lips onto his. His tongue delves into your mouth as he pushes himself into you, filling you up to the hilt. 

You both moan at the contact and Loki grips your waist hard, keeping you centered. His pace is relentless, slamming into you over and over, his tip repeatedly hitting your g-spot. 

“Who’s laughing now?” he grunts out, his hot breath hitting your face. 

You place your head in his shoulder, biting into his skin as he starts to rub your clit again. The feeling of him inside you and his hand pressing on your clit causes you to close your eyes, the pleasure of it making your vision shaky. 

“Can’t believe it,” Loki says, his nose pressed into your hair. “Here you are, letting me fuck you senseless as other people sit just a few feet away… You like it though, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” you shamelessly admit, your orgasm approaching as he continues to thrust into you. 

“Show me just how much then. Cum for me, darling.” His movements on your clit pick up, and with one last thrust, you come undone, your walls clenching around him. 

He follows right after you, his cum shooting deep inside you, coating your walls. 

Breathing heavily, he kisses the top of your head before slowly pulling out, his cum sliding out of you and down your thighs. 

“Such a beautiful sight. You full with my seed,” he says, staring down at your center. 

Before you get up, he wipes you down, making sure you’re clean before you put your clothes back on. 

Once he’s fully dressed, he touches your arm, directing you towards the door. “You go out first. I’ll follow a few minutes after.” 

Nodding at him, you slip out the door and head back to your seat, your center sore from what just transpired. 

A few minutes later, Loki appears, sliding in next to you. “Ready?” he asks.

Remembering the plan, you stare straight ahead as he flags down one of the flight attendants. 

When one comes around, he leans into her. “Don’t make a noise or everybody on this plane will die. You understand?” he whispers to her, looking for confirmation of loyalty. When she nods shakily, Loki continues with his plan. “Good… I have a bomb and I’m going to set it off unless you bring me money. Lots of it. With parachutes. I’ll need two of them. Can you do that?” 

“Y-yes,” the flight attendant says, eyes wide with horror. As she scurries off, he turns to look at you. “Get ready. This won’t take long.” 

And, he was right. Exactly five minutes later, the flight attendant hands Loki a briefcase containing the money, as well as two parachutes. 

Right as the two of you start to secure the parachutes onto your back, the flight attendant makes a scene. 

“They are robbing us!” she yells, pointing at the both of you. 

Loki laughs before reaching over to grab your hand. “I’d say it’s time to leave. Wouldn’t you, darling?” 

Standing up, you run with Loki towards the back of the plane. 

“This is crazy!” you yell. 

Loki spares a quick glance back at you. “But, oh so thrilling!”

Laughing at the chaotic-ness of the situation, you continue to follow Loki, even when the two of you have to jump out of the plane, hand in hand. 

And as the Bifrost takes you back to Asgard, you can’t help but think how excited Thor is going to get when he hears about this one. 

[badgirlcovenrep]

headcanons of my babies being fugitives of state together bc I love the scooby gang - part 1 (? (I just feel like they're gonna keep coming)

- they go thrifting for civilian disguises. A full montage of trying on funny hats and sunglasses ensue

- they share clothes. I feel like tally and scylla would be the ones to have the most fun with this and constantly be trading around stuff with each other. Though scylla takes raelle's shirts over everything almost every day.

- scylla is a pigeon crow lady now

- you can find her feeding them worms outside every once in a while

- she talks to them and they all have names

- dumb ones too, like blackberry, lord cawster, russel crowe, feather fawcett, crowbar jr., etc (you all win extra points if you can give me more of these i'm dying for more)

- everyone else is weirded out and honestly a little scared. Raelle finds it endearing

- they eventually find a house and start being a little found family

- quinn is the montessori mom who 100% missed her calling as a kindergarten teacher.

- She never had biological children and suddenly she's given 6 very powerful yet very chaotic witch kids but she's managing and honestly we should all applaud her for that

- nicte is the wine mom (with a criminal past). She acts like she doesn't care as long as they're not abt to die, but deep down she loves being part of the idiot gang

- she's also quite insightful when they want advice

- they train their magic together in the backyard like a little boot camp and nicte whoops their ass constantly

- the kids eventually start to bicker as they develop into a little family and have to learn to communicate better together as they go

- it's mostly dumb stuff tho, like who's gonna do which chore

- also 95% of the times it's abigail and scylla

- abigail is canonically v bossy and scylla just doesn't really care for that (she also thinks it's funny to push her buttons sometimes)

- they eventually bond over being the ones that would a 1000% commit a plethora of war crimes to keep the little found family safe

- like all of them would die for each other but Abigail and scylla would burn the world for their friends/SOs and they eventually gain respect towards each other bc of that

- Khalida is everyone's little sister

- being the youngest in the group they can't help but be protective (and a little teasing) of her constantly

- she pretends it doesn't but it annoys her to no end

- "I'm a leader of my people, damn it! My ancestors picked my mind to keep their knowledge for the next centuries to be! You will NOT rustle my hair like an undignified little baby!" Abigail: "Yeah you're also like 4 feet tall so tough luck"

- they all love each other a lot tho

- they sit around in the backyard after training and tell stories around the fire

- they also dance and sing songs and have a little bit of nice normal carefree times together for the first time in a while

- between Adigail and raylla it's almost torture every single day for mostly everyone in the house

- the pda is INTENSE.

- it's almost always raylla but Abigail and Adil have their moments too

- (I have a feeling raelle would be the one to not give a single fuck and constantly get scylla flustered by kissing the daylight out of her in front of people but that's a one-shot for another day)

- m and gregorio eventually make their way to the fam too

- they all have to do missions together and are little shits about it the whole way

- the scooby gang is strong together but they DO NOT get along well under pressure

- once they're in a mission and gregorio says he has to pee when they're in a really sensitive moment and Abigail almost croaks on the spot

- abigail: Tally give me the safe opening thingy.

Tally:........

abigail, trying not to blow a fuse as she's hung upside down inside the security room of a bank: you forgot the damn thing AGAIN, didn't you?

Tally: I'M A SEER I'M NOT A REMEMBERER!

- yule with them would be the cutest thing ever

- them sitting around the yule log giving each other presents 🥺

- quinn playing the piano and them all taking turns singing holiday songs

- Petra, Edwin and Anacostia are there

- they all made the dinner together like a sweet little family, with apple pie and everything

- scylla, Adil, khalida and Tally can probably cook, the rest of them absolutely cannot

- they're not in charge of the food tho (thank goddess)

[maijobi]

a thin line

dabi x reader

summary: dabi always seemed to work against your plans so you decided to confront him not knowing what he’d actually after the argument..

a/n: this is make-up for my last fic cuz i was most definitely not proud of that one shxjsjch.. anyways hope you enjoy this one bc I think I actually like the outcome even though it was a bit stressful to come up with the idea.

also,, the ending is an idea I found off of instagram and I was excited to use it here

—————————————————————————

“why don’t we just infiltrate friday at the ball?”, dabi asked shigaraki as he was looking at the plan in front of him.

“because that’d be too much of a risk”, you said, glaring at him and pointing out the obvious.

“a little bit of risks couldn’t hurt you once in a while” dabi snapped at you with a grin.

“alright sir know it all, just about how do you think to get past all the people and guards that’ll literally be standing in front of every door?”, you asked raising one eyebrow. 

“we’ll figure out a way”, he said.

“you don’t even know how you’ll do it, so I say let’s not go for the uncertain. I say we do it during the auction. the guards will be located around the auction area and not the main hall that leads to the big office, where we need to be. if we can get someone to hack the system, getting in will be a piece of cake. I figured out this’ll have a 99% of success based on the analytics we have made till now”, you said confidently. “plus I think I can do the actual infiltration so I can take that job on me. after all i’m the only one that’ll actually get the job done uncaught. “

“sounds too boring. where is the killing? where is the fun?”, dabi said with a bored face. 

“no killing is needed unless someone gets in our way. not everyone needs to actually die in order for us to get to the point we want dabi”, you said irritated at his constant counteraction. 

“alright let’s just take a break for now”, shigaraki said. “for now let’s figure out a detailed plan for both and we’ll choose the one that’ll work out best.”

“but-”, you said.

“if it means you’ll both stop bickering out of hate for once around me I wanna put a pause on this for now. we’ll talk about it tomorrow”, shigaraki said.

“hate? oh no I love her so much”, he teasingly said, making you roll your eyes.

“such a thin line between your love and hate. I give you guys till tomorrow to work your plan out better”, shigaraki said while sighing and taking his leave.

“ugh, this is all your fault”, you said to dabi wile turning away from him and walking to the door after shigaraki was completely out of sight.

“hold on, hold on”, he said confused as he stopped you by turning you around from your shoulder. “how is this suddenly my fault?”

“suggesting plans that dont even make sense?”, you said.

“shigaraki asked us to give him ideas and I did? I don’t see the issue here”, he said not giving in.

“you’re just suggesting your plan because you don’t want mine to work out. it’s literally so obvious, I don’t get why you’re always up in my business and trying to make my plans look bad in front of shigaraki”, you spat, actually getting pissed at him.

“because if your plan gets chosen it’ll put you in danger most”, he suddenly said. you felt taken aback.

“why do you care so much about my so called well being when in reality you don’t even like me?”, you asked. 

“who said I didn’t like you? you just decided that on your own because you didn’t like the idea of me joining your little gang”, he said.

“thats not true”, you said.

“then why is it that you assumed i’d hate you the same way you hate me”, he asked looking at you with his lips pressed against each other and his eyebrows raised.

“you always work against me?”, you said pointing the obvious.

“you might be right there”, he said,”but I have my reasons.”

“these reasons being my so called well being?”, you asked uninterested.

“yes.”

the determination in his voice made you silent for a second. you were slightly shocked at how pure and genuine his words felt. you weren’t sure how to answer on that. but even the slight shyness you felt because of his concern, was overpowered by your anger.

“very nice of you, but I didn’t ask you to care for me. i’m capable of taking care of myself. look out for yourself next time and don’t interrupt my ideas for the sake of your selfish desires. we’re adults, so act like it”, you said walking away for real this time.

“so my sincere words mean literally nothing to you?”, he asked in a slightly angry tone while following you to the common room.

“why are you following me?”, you asked, getting annoyed at his pushy behaviour. 

“cuz i’m trying to get a point across here. it’d be nice if you considered other’s feelings here once in a while”, he said.

you stopped when you were in the center of the room. you were facing him with your back, but turned around with a very annoyed and angry face. “let’s get one thing straight”, you said taking a step closer to him”, no one is here to actually create a family bond. we’re here to interfere and shake up the hero world that failed to be actual heroes to us. I do what’s best for me, but has an actual good outcome for the others too. so don’t go around telling me to consider other’s feelings when all you do is care for your own selfish desires”, you bitterly said. “just when I thought you might have actually cared, you showed just how selfish you are. just when i thought you might not be that bad of a person”, you said rather disappointed instead of angry.

when he spoke no word you decided to take your leave again, walking past him. but before you could actually get to the door you heard his footsteps and before you knew it he was holding your wrist and stopping you from walking even an inch further.

“why won’t you just leave me alone”, you frustratingly said.

he turned you around and pulled you close to him. he bent over you and was almost touching his forehead with yours. “you know why”, he whispered. “because of this.”

he crashed his lips against yours and there was absolutely nothing soft about it. it was rough and messy, yet passionate. it made you feel hot inside, not the fuzzy and warm type of hot, but a burning sensation you felt all over your body. it was as if he was lighting you on fire. 

but it felt good.

so good, that you forgot about why you were even mad, but the furiousness lingered and made the tension even bigger. you let him devour every piece of you and you didn’t care about the bite marks he’d leave on your lips. lips moving open mouthed and tongues dancing together. you were feeling almost every part of him and he’d groan in between, sending shivers down your spine.

when the both of you parted he looked in your eyes, as if he was staring through your soul. you were searching his face, waiting for a sign that he’d speak.

but instead he kissed you again. but this time softer, warmer. the one that made you feel fuzzy and warm inside. something you never knew he was capable of doing. he was still holding your wrist with one hand and the other made its way to your back. he pulled you closer, slowly and softly. he’d kiss you ever so gently that it felt like he had become a totally different person than only a few seconds ago. but you were not complaining at all. 

he slowly parted away from you and when you looked at him you saw his red cheeks and closed eyes. and when he slowly opened them you could see a version of dabi which you’d never seen before. that soft look no one had ever seen, all the hatred and anger you were feeling a few minutes ago all gone, overshadowed by the soft look he was giving.

“I thought you hated me”, he teased, caressing your cheeks while giving you a soft smile.

“things change...”, you muttered.

“you’re cute when you don’t want to admit things aloud, you know. Go on, just say that you like me”, he said while stopping his movements on your cheeks and making sure you were looking at him and only him.

you should have seen it coming. him making you feel this way. you always said your personalities clashed, but they clashed so much, that you actually overlooked just how fitting they actually were. the polar opposites, yet the same. you weren’t completely sure how to describe it, but it was something you had never experienced before. it could be a challenge coming up your way, but you figured it was something worth battling for. 

because after all, there was only a thin line between the hate and love you felt for each other.

[domthedevil]

I'm absolutely loving your gentle series, could you maybe do Beel next? 👉👈

Big Beel is already so gentle and this made me weak in the knees. I don’t know what it is about this series but it’s so fun to write. Thank you for sending this in! Also is 3 AM so ignore my horrible errors.

Be Gentle pt 4

Warnings: Beel x AFAB!MC, loss of virginity

The stupid way Asmo and Mammon bickered over who you liked better only made Beel’s stomach rumble. Thinking there were better places to be, Beel crept out of the room and made his way to your room. He remembered you’d brought a special snack from the Human World for him. And he’d be lying if he said the previous conversation didn’t make him want to see you.

Hearing a knock on your door - a single loud thunk, you called for Beel to come in in response. Joyfully he walked in to see you relaxing in bed. He forgot you had been waiting for him to give this gift the him. He apologized softly before sitting behind you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you and the small present you held. Beel’s chin rested on your shoulder as your cheeks grew warm.

“I got a present from home. It’s my favorite.” Kissing his cheek softly you opened the box to show him the treat you had picked out just for him. That little dribble of drool you thought was adorable grazed your cheek. “B-Beel!!”

“S-Sorry!” He clumsily wiped his mouth and your cheek with the sleeve of his jacket. Your laugh assured him that you weren’t actually mad. Shifting to sit in his lap facing him, hands on his shoulders, you kissed his cheek again. Beel noticed hot warm your cheek was against his when you spoke lowly.

“Actually Beel...I was hoping I could ask you something?”

“Of course!” Beel managed to make out in between bites.

“MC...Im really happy.” His red cheeks framed the huge smile across his face. “I want to...be close to you.”

“You’re being too honest.” You nervously laughed. “But...if it’s you Beel, I know you’ll be gentle.”

“Of course.”

His husky voice brushed against Your lips as he kissed you softly. Too softly. But you smiled as he slowly pressed against you harder. Broad arms shed the jacket he normally wore, followed by his shirt. He knew they wouldn’t be missed. Now that they were bare, Beel’s arms wrapped around you tightly.

A small moan slipped through your puffy lips. Beel’s tongue wrestled yours into submission. His kisses were so different from anyone else’s. He knew how to work this muscle to achieve its peak performance. He groaned in response before further exploring your mouth. These small noises you made while he kissed you drove him insane. Beel blushed slightly as he thought about coming the other night to the thought of this. Of sharing this experience.

Rubbing his chest, soft but firm under your finger tips, your hips rocked slowly against his. Parting a moment from the intoxicating kiss, you let out a subtle gasp for air. Beel’s big hands travelled to your hips. Holding them still as he used his own hips to rub against you. The rough way he pressed his hardening cock against you made you wet. He was an impressive size. And you worried for a moment what it would feel like.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you MC.” His low soothing voice resounded in your core.

Holding you close, he rolled you both over. A little too eagerly, Beel helped you out of your clothing. Seeing you naked in front of him had that same small trail of drool run down his chin. You felt a little embarrassed, but flattered all the same. Wiping his mouth clean again, he lied onto you so that he could kiss you, and trail down to your sensitive nubs. A shaky moan from your excited voice made his member twitch with need.

“Is this good MC?” Beel needed validation and confirmation.

“You can be...a little rougher.” Your voice was small but laced with lust. Arms on his shoulders, you braces your self as his teeth nibbled around your peaks. Sucking and licking hungrily. “Nngh-! Y-yes...that’s good.”

As your hands tangle in his bright locks, his hands traveled under you. Your hips twitch at the feeling of his rough finger against your clit. Huffing Beel’s name quietly, he moved his finger in tight circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Making small waves of heat run through you. Beel grew harder the more you said his name. Fuck he was trying so hard to hold back. But this was about you, not just him.

Slipping a finger into your entrance, Beel was met with little resistance, though it felt as if it were two of your own fingers at once. You had already soaked the underwear you’d been wearing earlier,helping him ease into you. His second finger made your voice crack. Though not too thick or long, his fingers were still able to stretch parts of you that you’d never felt before. Beel whispered small encouragements as he worked to stretch you more.

“Does it hurt MC? I’ll stop if it does.”

“N-No. Don’t stop now.”

“You’re doing so well MC. Relax and let me take care of you.”

Moving away a moment, Beel’s face turned a deep red as he watched you watching him. Slowly the buckle on his belt and underwear descended and there you gazed upon his cock for the first time. He was intimidating, but you still bit your bottom lip with desire. The glazed look in your eye made Beel’s heart pound.

Holding your thighs together with his hands, Beel pulled you to the edge of your bed. Holding your legs vertically, he aligned his cock with the space between your thighs and swollen clit.

“Squeeze your thighs MC...I want to show you a little...how it’s going to feel.”

Following his suggestion and squeezing your legs tightly together, Beel thrusted his cock between your legs, tucked right above your dripping sex and slamming the tip of his cock against your clit. You couldn’t stop the moans leaving you breathless. Gripping at the sheets below you and twisting with pleasure only encouraged Beel to thrust faster and harder.

A deep burning in your core started to become unbearable. Every ridge on his shaft covered itself in your delicious slick. Your sensitive pearl being roughly pressed sent wave after wave of ecstasy over you. Soon it crashed against your shores. Walls clenching around nothing, your first orgasm had your hips twitching. Beel had to stop himself from drooling again as he admired your lewd expression. His hips had stopped once he realized your moans were growing sexier and sexier.

“M-more. Beel I want more...” you managed to puff and pant out as you spread your legs.

“I love you MC.” He held your hands in his large and rough ones. Rubbing his slick covered dick in short thrusts and pressing the tip of his cock inside you, your relaxed walls and wet pussy wanted to suck him inside. However he was going to move slow. Easing himself in, Beel groaned as it passed inside of you for the first time. You hissed loudly, holding back the cry you wanted to let out. A few small tears fell as your breathing regulated. A sharp pain had scared you a moment, but it had faded to a dull ache.

“Beel...I love you.” Your shaky voice rang out as he continued to sink himself into your warmth. “It feels so strange but...it feels so good too.”

“Do you want me to move?”

You nodded as your arms wrapped around his neck. Placing a soft kiss to your cheek, he lifted his hips in slow thrusts. Letting the feeling of his dick pulling in and out of you linger each time he moved. Licking soothingly on your neck he moved as evenly as possible.

“Is that good?”

“Mmn...m-more Beel.”

His grin and the glimmer in his amethyst eyes made you fall even more in love with him. As his hips sped up he began to press against a very sensitive spot. With how much he was stretching you it felt like every thrust built the heat in your core.

“Y-yes.”

He loved how vocal you were. Hearing how much you liked it encouraged him. Gave him freedom to indulge as well. Knowing he was the first to see this side of you made him blush furiously. This sight was just for him. Straightening his back, Beel looked down at you as he bounced you up and down his cock. Seeing the full picture made his orgasm quicken. And soon your name fell from his lips like a spell he had to remember for class.

“Beel I’m close again. It’s so tight and hot. W-what do I do?” There was a slight panic in your tone.

“Shhh...hold on to me.”

Wrapping his arms around your torso again, Beel buried his face into your neck. Your hasty moans and whimpers made him drool uncontrollably. This time there was no stopping it. But you were too focused on the burning coil about to spring inside you.

“Coming...” Beel could barely make out your whine. But he knew he had heard you clearly when your walls flexed and pulsed and squeezed around him. A deep guttural sound echoed in your room as Beel unexpectedly felt himself come inside you. You begged him to still a moment as your whole body twitched and adjusted back to gravity. Your orgasm had run so deep your toes were numb.

“MC. Are you...?” Beel’s voice trailed off as he finished cleaning you and himself up. Still nude, he rested on the bed beside you. Locking eyes with yours.

“I’m great Beel. That was so amazing.” You bit your lip again, looking at him with bedroom eyes. “Can we...do it again?”

Letting out a hearty chuckle, Beel lifted you so that you straddled his waist above him.

“Anything for you MC.”

“You’re drooling Beel...”

This is a continuation of a request. Read more here:

Be Gentle (Levi x AFAB!MC)

Be Gentle (Belphegore x AFAB!MC)

Be Gentle (Satan x AFAB!MC)