#or maybe it was last week as well..I tend to share weeks..

[lemoncrushh]

Through the Wall

Summary: Harry is your handsome neighbour, and you keep hearing him through the wall.

A/N: This is short little one shot I wrote and posted last year to try to get my mojo back, so sorry if it seems familiar.

Warnings: Masturbation and sexual noises.

Word Count: 1.7k

He was at it again. The man next door.

Harry. That was his name. You’d learnt it a week or so ago when you’d come home with multiple bags of food and he’d offered to hold the door and carry a few upstairs for you. But that hadn’t been the first time you’d seen him. You’d been admiring him from afar for weeks, sneaking peeks when he’d go out for his morning run, or when he was checking his post. You’d decided long ago that he was attractive, though you’d still been too shy to give him more than a meek smile.

But more than just getting a quick view of him on his way in or out the building, you heard him. A lot.

The building you shared with Harry was a former tenement, an old run-down series of flats from the seventies that had recently been upgraded and remodeled. Though the insides resembled modern apartment living, the walls still remained paper-thin. And recently you’d deduced that your bedroom wall was one that you shared with your handsome neighbour. Harry.

You hadn’t realised what it had been at first, the sound coming from behind the wall. You’d just returned to your room after a shower, ready to retire for the evening and crawl into bed early. The sound had started low at first, like a deep grumble. At first you thought perhaps your neighbour was talking on the phone, his demeanor soon sounding disgruntled, his volume growing through the wall. It wasn’t until you’d turned out the light that you heard a second voice. A female voice.

Just brilliant, you’d thought sarcastically. He has a woman in there with him.

Perturbed that he’d chosen to entertain a female on the evening you’d decided to go to bed before ten, you considered grabbing your headphones, or even some earplugs. But that was when the grumbling grew into deep moans. Had you any doubts before that the man’s bedroom was directly on the other side of the wall of your own, they certainly dissipated when you heard the knock of the headboard. Felt it, even.

Nearly ready to leap out of bed and find those God forsaken earplugs, you suddenly heard him speak.

“Oh, God!” he cried from the other side of the paper-thin wall.

Perhaps it was the desperate tone in his voice, or maybe the heavy breathing you heard afterwards, but your ears perked up then. As he continued to moan, you were no longer irritated by the sounds, but rather titillated by them. The search for anything to plug your ears dismissed, you laid in your bed and allowed yourself to have a private…concert.

You realised as the noises and moans increased, you heard less of the female tone. You thought this interesting since in your experience, women tend to be a little louder in bed than men. You wondered if she was sucking him off when you heard the headboard hit the wall again.

“Jesus!” Harry gasped at almost the same time you did. “Oh, fuck! Yes, baby….yes…ohhhh…”

Giggling to yourself, you listened as your neighbour came down from his orgasm, his heavy breaths slowing to a shaky sigh.

Well, he certainly sounds satisfied, you thought. Lucky girl.

That had been the first time you’d heard Harry through the wall. But it certainly wasn’t the last. The irony of it was that each time you heard him, you could have sworn there was someone else in the room with him. But the next morning, when you would open your flat door and head for the stairs, Harry would sometimes emerge from his own door…alone.

Not that the guest couldn’t have left during the night, or even directly after their shag. That was definitely possible. You just found it…odd that no one - male nor female - lingered near his flat to give him a goodbye kiss. Instead, he would smile at you, sometimes offer you a chipper greeting and wish you a pleasant day.

This particular day - a Saturday - you’d headed out that morning for an errand when you’d spotted Harry returning from his morning run.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he waved, his shirt stained with sweat, his thick thighs peeking out from his black running shorts. Damn him. The fact that he remembered your name was bad enough. Now you’d be forced to imagine him behind the wall, sweat dripping from his brow, his wet skin glistening like it was now.

When you returned home, you’d barely unloaded your items from the supermarket when you started to hear the familiar noises.

Bloody hell!, you thought. It’s the middle of the damn day!

Nevertheless, when you walked into your bedroom, Harry’s moans were intense and lusty. And just like the last time, which had only been the previous night, you found yourself turned on, squeezing your legs together to hold in your desire. As you sat on the bed to listen more closely, you could hear Harry mumbling something, though you couldn’t make out the words. Harry panted, his deep moans turning into desperate cries. You began to feel more and more wetness between your legs until you finally rose from the bed to strip.

“Fuck it all!” you exclaimed as you climbed back onto your mattress, facing the wall. Your right hand quickly made its way to your already soaking pussy while you braced yourself against the wall with your left.

Whilst Harry continued his sexy sounds, you imagined you were the guest in his room, the one who was making him feel this way - so insatiably horny until he was completely fucked out of his mind.

“Oh, God,” he cried out again. “Yeah, fuck me, baby.”

With a grin, you paused the stroking with your hand to reach for your bedside table. Opening the drawer, you pulled out your special friend. Happy to oblige, you pretended your girthy toy was your neighbour, whom no doubt was just as girthy. A girl knows these things.

As you slowly lowered yourself onto your dildo, you let out a gasp. Even in your wet state, it always took a little adjusting. But once you were there, you returned your hand to the wall, imagining Harry was inside you. Your jaw slack, your eyes rolling back in your head, you let all inhibitions go. You cursed out loud when Harry did, allowing yourself the pleasure. When your arm could no longer hold you up, you sat back on your knees, your free hand pinching your nipple.

When you heard Harry’s headboard hit the wall, you could feel your own release coming soon. Your thighs weakening and burning, you grabbed hold of your pillow as you fucked the toy harder into your dripping cunt.

“Oh, fuck, Harry!” you called out.

Oops. That was loud, you thought. Had he heard you?

You paused - for only a moment though your throbbing pussy would beg to differ - and you could have sworn Harry stopped too. Was he finished? You hadn’t heard him come.

Deciding to at least finish yourself off, you started pumping again, the “Harry” dildo fucking you in just the right spot. You gasped and moaned again, this time not caring about the volume. That was when you heard a chuckle.

At least…you thought you did.

“Yeah, babe, you’re so hot.” You definitely heard that. “Fuck me, just like that.”

Your moans become more feral, you lifted yourself up onto your knees again, your hand finding the wall. You scooted closer, until your ear was almost pressing against it. You wanted to hear him come. Needed to.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” you heard him ask.

You licked your lips as you imagined the query was for you. Another moan escaping your lips, you sped up your hand.

“You like when I fuck you like this, baby?”

Biting your bottom lip, you nodded, but another cry sounded from your chest.

“Yeah, your pretty pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, innit? Just for me.”

“Yes!” you shouted, just as a thunderous orgasm ripped through your entire body. “Oh, God!”

Thighs trembling, palms sweating, you were no longer able to hold yourself up. You cried Harry’s name several times until it turned into a whisper as you slid down the wall to your pillows.

A low, guttural moan sounded from Harry’s side of the wall followed by a handful of expletives. Then he let out another chuckle.

“That was incredible, babe.”

Incredible, indeed. Though…now that you were coming down from your high, you finally admitted that he’d heard you. He knew it was you.

Holy shit!

Scrambling from the bed, you took a quick shower, wrapping yourself in a massive, plush towel. Laying on your bed, you pondered the idea that Harry might have been trying to tease you all along. Perhaps it was his game.

Dehydrated, you walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. Your brain was still trying to process everything that had just happened when a knock sounded on the door.

“Um…who is it?” you called from the other side without opening it.

“It’s your neighbour, love. Harry.”

Of course it was.

“Oh, um…okay, just a minute!”

Running to the bedroom, you threw on a pair of leggings and an oversized tee before hesitantly opening the door, greeting your neighbour with a weak smile.

“Hi,” he grinned. “Sorry to bother you. I got some of your post by mistake.”

“Oh,” you said, a bit confused as you handed you a couple letters. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Well…again, didn’t want to trouble you. Have a nice evening.”

“Um…same to you,” you gulped.

Harry was just about to turn away, your hand on the door as you stood baffled, when he stopped and pinched his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger.

“By the way…” he started, his words trailing off.

“Yes?”

“Uh…this is kinda awkward, but…I’m a single guy and don’t know many people yet in this area. But I’m cooking dinner, and it’s far too much for one person. Would you…like to join me?” he gestured toward his door.

Your eyebrows lifted high as your jaw dropped. “Dinner? At your flat?”

“Yeah. That is…if you want to.”

You smiled at him as a sigh of relief escaped your chest. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Good,” he beamed before he leant forward, his forearm resting on your door frame. “I reckon it’s better than communicating through the wall.”

It was late and I was feeling things, so I decided to repost this. Hope you enjoyed :).

[unsolvedghoulboyz]

week before was ethan landry <33 love u bb

[kalims]

kiss your best friend | diasomnia

kiss your best friend and see how they react!

parts. one , two , three , four , five , six , seven

characters. malleus, lilia, sebek, silver

content. gender neutral reader as usual, mentions of murder by lilia's cooking, someone faints lol

note. finally last part after ten years /j

malleus

goes absolutely silent but his surprise is definitely there -> eyes widen, brows raise on a miniscule scale. you'd think the guy would be all lowkey about his joy but five seconds later and there are comical sparkles surrounding his face.

I mean. you had to formally confirm that you two were friends before, and you had off-handedly linked his name and best friend in the same sentence a few months later (he was bursting for like a week.) and now all that?

thrown away, nu-uh. you two are NOT friends no more, he doesn’t have a single care in the world. he's throwing the friends label off a cliff with his foot and skipping off with joy cause you just got upgraded to the next ruler of briar valley wink wonk.

or perhaps you'd like being referred to as his consort? he can always make the people refer to you as both.

if you're wondering why he's so silent all of a sudden; malleus: already thinking of how he'd decorate the castle when you move in with him. maybe... he can break down the wall to link your two bedrooms together—wait no he'd very much like to share the same room instead..

"child of man, do you prefer violet or green?"

"uh... green...?"

"excellent choice, you have my gratitude."

the thing you should be asking is 'why' because it's either the main color theme of your wedding or the gem he'd engrave on your ring (he's very happy it's green though, since it'd be a constant reminder of him.. oh he knows! he should get his a color of your eyes too—)

someone stop him.

lilia

spiderman kisses spiderman kisses spiderman kisses spiderman kisses

more knowledgeable than malleus about the level up of relationships so he doesn't jump from best friends to newlyweds immediately. actually he doesn't even need a label, if you're going around kissing him he's just gonna act like you two are a married couple without a confirmation on your status'

"darling, could you hand me the sugar?"

"lilia, I hope you know that you're supposed to use salt for the sauce not sugar." <- *passes the right bottle*

ignoring lilia's attempts on lives he acts pretty normal.

ahem, besides the fact that your first kiss on him has made him come to the conclusion that he can now incorporate kisses in your daily routine since you've already done it, so apparently that means he can too.

kiss him once, he kisses you thrice I guess. it's either the occasional jumpscare from the ceiling since he felt like reminding you of his love through a pack or the times you blink and feel a sensation against your lips without seeing anything cause his affection can be silent as it is loud you suppose.

pov student you were speaking to who definitely saw that but you didn't midst your blink: 😨—

"lilia are we dating."

"i suppose it would make us more official like you humans like, so of course~"

he just accepts it without any complaints, just announce you're spouses and he'll accept that too probably.

#chill

silver

if we have spiderman kisses surely we can have the sleeping beauty kiss?

sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses

I reckon he would be a pretty light sleeper though the quantity of his sleep is more often than not so even though he accidentally passes out a lot he's really easy to wake. trained to be vigilant and all, courtesy of his murderous father (well, murderous through food?)

he knows the weight of certain things. a blanket draped over him, the feeling of something squirming on his shoulder—a squirrel, most likely. something on his head, a bird or some other critter. but this?

a light press on his lips, gone as quickly as it came. that, he isn't sure of. the animals don't tend to linger around his face so the unknown origin of it has curiosity opening his eyes.

and boy, he is trying to find every reason to not believe that you didn't peck him.

perhaps they touched it? he furrows his brows lightly, attempting hard at trying to avoid your gaze because he feels guilty at his first assumption, you're his best friend! you wouldn't do such a thing..

"did you touch my lips?"

"nah, is it fine that I kissed you?"

"..."

"..."

*passes out*

is he dreaming?

sebek

in what scenario will sebek even let you near him? hmmm.. I suppose being 'best friends' (he calls you self proclaimed, and that you guys aren't that close but still rages over someone and hits them with an essay why you're so much better than their insults) makes you more tolerable around to be closer.

totally not the fact that he might have a crush on you, which can't be right cause he can't be capable of having feelings for a *gasp* human!

scandalous. he knows.

raises a brow when you do anything but be discrete with your intentions of shuffling closer but he doesn't really double back, okay. he's getting a little concerned now when you continue getting closer, he takes a step back not because you're near or anything but this behavior is... just strange.

you're in his face already and before he can question (loudly) what in the seven's name you're doing before you just casually peck him on the lips?

WHAT IN TARNATION!

stiffens up immediately, his face looks like it's holding in a yell. maybe that's why it's getting so red? he's just standing there with shoulders so tense he looks like he's trying to seem big.

"..." WHAT JUST HAPPENED. DID THIS HUMAN JUST.. NO, WE ARE MERELY BEST FRIENDS—are we even friends.. NO! THIS IS THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE ACT TO COMMIT. THIS HUMAN NEEDS TO KNOW BOUNDARIES. I mean he enjoyed that and all—I mean what..

"why are you so quiet."

if only you knew.

[gojossocks]

We can't be friends

Gojo x Reader Summary: You decided to erase Gojo from your memory.

“Who is Gojo Satoru to you?”  

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, before giving the doctor a tight-lipped smile. “W-we were together for 6 years.” 

He’s no one important really, just the love of your life. 

There has been an on-going trend all over the world— technology has upgraded enough that you can erase someone entirely out of your memory, as if they’ve never existed. If they do, it wasn’t like how you knew them. 

You weren’t sure what dragged you in this clinic with all of the most important things that remind you of him. Maybe it was the way he ignored you like the plague, the way the familiarity in his eyes disappeared just earlier last week when he spoke to you so freely like you’ve never been together. It was clear that he got his memory of you erased after that incident. You were just another colleague. Perhaps, the pain in your heart is too much to handle. 

You don’t remember the way to the clinic that much. It was a surprise you even got there in one piece considering you were sobbing the whole way there. So even if you aren’t entirely sure whether you’re ready to let go of Satoru, you signed the consent form anyway. 

If he’s got you erased completely from your life, then what’s the point of living in hell remembering him? You didn’t want to mourn for someone alive and well. 

You never really understood why he left because everything was just working out between the two of you. Satoru provided you with no explanation and packed up his things to leave you behind to your own devices. You almost wanted to back out when you started reminiscing vividly of everything you once shared with him. 

You remembered falling in love with him, how it feels like the first day of spring, how his kisses taste like daylight. How he squeezes your hand three times before you part ways for a mission.  How he holds you like you’re the only thing that matters in his world. How it was always you and him against the world, him making you laugh while you tended to his wounds. He would tell you that everything would be okay because he has you and only you. 

The bad outweighed the good that you had forgotten that loving him and being loved with him is something that you never wanted to forget, even if your relationship with him crashed and burned. You don’t want him to be a stranger you can’t recognize anymore.

But it had already been done and everything faded into nothingness as you try to grasp with whatever you have left of him.

-.- 

You have been working with Gojo for quite some time now, maybe about six years. But you’ve never directly initiated conversations with him outside work. He’s the only one you don’t know much about in Jujutsu High. Today is no different as you’re waiting with him in the clinic for your mutual friend Shoko. 

“That’s a beautiful necklace you have there.” He acknowledges you for the first time since you got there. Even if you’re just a few meters away, he doesn’t talk to you. You find that a little bit weird because everyone tells you that he’s obnoxious and loud. Somehow with you, he’s always quiet. 

You didn’t remember much of how you got the necklace. You figured that the reason why Gojo’s asking about it is because it matches the color of his eyes. There was a hazy memory though— you were crying, telling a doctor to ‘let me keep it, please. Just this one.’ but you didn’t think much of it. Maybe it was all a dream. 

You responded with a laugh before toying with the pendant of the necklace. “Yeah, It was a gift to me.” 

“Oh?” He looked at you through his glasses, his intense gaze making you feel a little nervous. “Mind telling me who?” 

“I forgot.” You replied,  slowly relaxing in your seat while looking around at Shoko’s clinic. He nodded at you, a small smile adorning his lips and he didn’t say anything more. 

You missed the way his eyes linger on you for a moment before putting back his blindfold on or the apologetic look that Shoko gave him before he leaves. 

“So, who’s Gojo Satoru to you?” 

“He’s the strongest of course.” 

But to him, you’re still his everything—because he didn’t really remove you from his memory. Maybe if he was braver, you’d remember him. 

a/ n: part 2? :0

[watchmegetobsessed]

MISTLETOE

A/N: oh my god??? im actually posting something??? wow!!! okay joke aside lol its been ages since i last poste anything and im not saying im back, but i've been trying to write here and there so hopefully i will be back soon. until then, here is this little something i manage to finish last month!

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: Everyone knows Harry is crushing on Y/N, but he hasn't made any major moves. Maybe tonight, when they find themselves under the mistletoe...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“So Styles, are you gonna man up and ask her out finally, or be a baby?” Niall laughs, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s as they are approaching the pub they spend almost every Friday night at. 

“Shut up,” he groans, but it’s impossible to miss the blush on his cheeks. Niall didn’t even drop a name, but they both knew who he was talking about.

It’s kind of an open secret that Harry has been very into Y/N. Well, all the boys know at least and they very much enjoy teasing him about it. Or maybe not about the crush, but about how long he’s been into her and he still hasn’t made any major moves. The past couple of weeks it’s been even more intense, because it seems like Y/N has been very much open towards Harry and his interest in her, but he’s been clearly waiting for him to make a move. 

As the boys arrive at the pub it’s just as buzzing as always even despite the painfully cold weather that’s been keeping everyone on campus wrapped up in their warmest clothes. A few days ago it was even snowing for a bit, though there’s nothing left from the whiteness by now.

Harry sighs happily as the warmth of the crowd inside hugs him in an instant. The bunch that’s already there, including Y/N, is sitting in the back at a table they often sit by, it’s kind of their spot at this point. 

He spots her in an instant and his cheeks warm up, but this time it’s not because of the temperature inside the pub. He saw her just the other day at lunch, but he can always feel his heart skipping a beat as if she was coming back from a months long trip. 

“You’re being obvious,” Niall bumps his shoulder against his, grinning at his friend, but Harry just rolls his eyes again as they make their way over to the table.

With only two weeks until winter break the place is decorated, there are garlands running along the walls and pipes, ornaments hanging from the corners of the framed photos, there’s a tiny christmas tree on top of the bar and if you’re not paying attention you can end up standing underneath a mistletoe here and there as well. 

“Hey! Thought you guys weren’t even gonna make it!” Jackie exclaims as she stands from the table, hugging the boys one by one. She is practically the person who brought the group together, everyone in the gang either had a lecture together with her, went to practice with her or shared a room with her. The latter is how Y/N got to meet the boys, including Harry. Though the two girls are not roommates anymore, they are still very close. 

Just as Harry wraps his arms around Jackie his eyes meet Y/N’s over her shoulder and his ming blanks for a moment. With her shy smile, simple yet flattering outfit and vibrant aura she is definitely the one who steals the show, at least in Harry’s mind. 

“Hi,” he breathes out when they are finally facing each other and she gifts him with the brightest smile as she lifts her arms to wrap them around his neck.

“Hi,” she giggles, her front pressing against his and he holds her just a bit tighter and longer than anyone else. Which she seemingly doesn’t mind. 

Of course they end up sitting next to each other. It’s no surprise to anyone. Niall is sitting across Harry and every time Harry looks his way he gives him a nudging, teasing look that screams “come on, make a move” which Harry tries to ignore as much as possible, though Niall tends to be a bit much at times.

“What are your plans for the break?” Y/N asks him, the two of them have kind of tuned out of the conversation that’s happening around the table. 

“Just going home, spending time with my family. My mum is very excited,” he chuckles softly. “What about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” she smiles. “I’m pretty sure my mum has already started cooking.”

They talk about family traditions, gifting and funny stories from past holidays, completely forgetting about the rest of the group for a while. When their glasses empty out they head over to the bar for a refill, sticking to each other’s side still.

When Y/N tries to pay for her drink Harry steps in, earning a knowing look from the bartender. 

“What a gentleman,” he murmurs under his breath with a smirk, pushing the two beers towards them. Harry’s ears turn red, while Y/N just nods in agreement. 

A guy hurries past them, pushing Y/N slightly against Harry whose hand moves to her waist out of instinct to steady her. The moment gets lost in the crowd to everyone else, but not to them. Harry’s whole body flames, the closeness of her feels exciting and calming at the same time and he doesn’t know, but she shares the same feeling. 

“You alright?” he manages to ask her, their faces way closer than ever before. She peeks up at him with a short nod.

“Yeah, thanks.”

It feels like a moment that would be perfect to finally make a move. Harry knows and as he is looking at her he also knows that she wouldn’t reject him, yet he still can’t get himself to take that step and cross the line he’s been dancing on for so long. 

The seconds pass by and the moment fades as well, disappointment bubbling in her gut as she moves back from him, his hand falling off her waist and he is already regretting being such a coward.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself as Y/N starts to move ahead of him, back to the table and he follows her feeling like the biggest loser ever. 

Why is he so afraid of making a move? She’s all he’s been thinking about, they get along so well and everyone’s been telling him she wants him too. But still, that awful voice in the back of his head keeps reminding him there’s a chance she rejects him and everything would be ruined after that. 

Defeated, they join the rest of the table again and they both can feel a wall sitting right between them. Harry keeps replaying the moment in his head, he thinks of everything he could have done not to mess up his chance, wishing he could go back in time and man up finally.

Soon enough the group moves to the darts boards as Niall and Liam start a match, the rest enjoying the show because Niall is known to be quite competitive in any and all sports. 

Harry is standing by Y/N again, but there’s tension between them obviously and his mind is racing to find a way to ease the situation. Should he ask her to talk? Pretend like nothing happened? Or what if he just swung an arm around her right now? What if–

“Oh! You two!” Niall snaps him out of his thoughts, pointing at him and Y/N. “You’re standing under the mistletoe!”

They look up at the same time, checking that he did not lie, there really is a mistletoe hanging above them. Their gazes meet and the moment is back. Y/N is looking at him with hope tinkering in her eyes and Harry knows he can’t mess it up this time, but he needs just a few seconds to build up the courage, this is a big step and he…

He is taking too long. He sees the moment when Y/N is letting go and panic sets in, screaming at him to do something and then… he finally does. Just when Y/N turns her face in defeat he gently cups her cheek, turning it back and she sucks on her breath before he finally presses his lips to hers. 

A lot happens around them, there’s whistling and clapping and Niall shouts something but it all tunes out to Harry, she is all he can sense. Her arms are quick to snake around his neck and his hands find their way to her waist, pulling her tight into his embrace, hoping he never has to let go of her. 

All his fantasies about what kissing her would feel like vanish and he swears it’s all he has ever known, the touch of her soft lips, the way her tongue swirls against his, the warmth of her body pressed against his. 

Their mistletoe kiss stretches long and neither of them really wants to end it, but reality pushes its way back into their bubble and the noise pops it. Pulling apart they stare at each other for a while before Y/N’s lips slowly break into a smile that Harry feels like wants to own forever. He can’t bear the thought of anyone else being the reason she smiles this way. 

“Harry Styles finally grew some balls!” Niall shouts, completely stomping over the moment they just shared as they turn back to face their friends, arms still around each other. 

“A Christmas miracle!” Jackie joins in on the teasing. 

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Harry groans, not quite enjoying being in the center of attention. 

Y/N’s arms have moved to circle around his abdomen and she gently squeezes him, grabbing his attention. The moment he looks at her smiling face he forgets about everything that’s making him uncomfortable. 

Leaning down he presses a short, lingering kiss to her lips, replacing every word he ever wanted to tell her and she understands it all, happy to be finally speaking the same language. 

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[starsandhughes]

I Know Places

inspired by i know places by taylor swift <3

pairing: quinn hughes x tkachuk! reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: drinking, use of y/n, mentions of throwing up (not actually done), fade to black smut

MASTERLIST

-----------------------

Maybe it wasn't the best idea you've ever had, but it wasn't like you planned this! You didn't plan to fall for one of your brother's best friends, someone that was a groomsman at his wedding, it just happened.

You and Quinn kept sharing looks during the start of the wedding reception. It was a dangerous game and you both knew it. Quinn and Brady were best friends, and both of your families were friends— you were terrified that too much was at risk with this relationship.

There wasn't a fear that your families wouldn't be happy about the relationship, because there was no doubt in your mind that everyone would be thrilled, it was the fear that your relationship would no longer be just yours.

It would be theirs, too. It would belong to your parents, Quinn's parents, Brady, Matthew, Taryn, Jack, Luke, and eventually all of the fans.

Your relationship would be under the scrutiny of the public eye. You'd be subjected to hate from Quinn's "fans," and probably your brothers's as well. You knew that some girls online tended to take every single blink as a chance to over analyze a relationship from a player they obsess over. Many fans were supportive of the various WAGS, but there were a few that would be sobbing over the fact that Quinn is taken. These fans are the hunters, and you're a fox trying not to be caged.

Your relationship was fairly new, only a couple weeks old, and it started back when the Devils were still in the playoffs. There was a gap between one of Matthew's games and one of Jack and Luke's, so you hopped on a plane to go see one of them before Quinn got his wisdom teeth out. Quinn drove you back to your hotel at the end of the night and well... things spiraled from there.

Love was fragile. It could burn out. And in your experience, especially new love.

The more alcohol that you put into your system, the less careful you and Quinn were being. There were cameras everywhere, but it slipped your mind for just a moment. You two had been friends for a long time and an innocent touch surely wouldn't be enough for everyone's heads to turn, so you let it happen.

Quinn stood behind you with his hands on your waistline as you moved your hips to the music. You knew they were his hands before you even turned around, you were familiar with his touch at this point. It wasn't until you heard Luke whisper to Jack, "look!" that you had any concern.

"Let go, Quinn," you whispered to him. "Luke is looking suspicious."

"So let him," Quinn whispered back.

"Quinn," you groaned.

Quinn obliged to your concerns and took his hands off of you. He extended his hand towards you instead and lifted it up when you took it, a subtle motion signaling you to spin under his arm. You laughed as he did this, and to play it off like you were just two friends dancing, he called out to Luke to catch you as he spun you outward.

You fell into Luke laughing before you turned back to face Luke and threw your arms around his neck to dance to the beat with him.

"What was that about?" Luke asked you. You internally panicked, but outwardly remained calm.

"What was what about?" you laughed it off.

"Quinn's hands on you," Luke said, as if it were obvious. In his defense... it was.

"We were just dancing, Luke. I've known him forever! I've known you forever and now we're dancing! Is there something wrong with that?" you turned it all on him.

"No, no, nothing wrong with that," he said calmly. He was too smart for his own good and you knew it, but he was also respectful enough to not call you on your bluff.

Luckily, keeping an eye on you was the last thing on Brady and Matthew's minds with everything that's going on around them. As the night went on, Jack was getting drunker and Luke was on Jack duty, so Quinn's brothers were finally less of a problem.

All you wanted was to be with Quinn. If you two were further along in your relationship and unworried about your families, you two would be attached at the hip and having a good time. But everyone in your family was around. Grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles. Everyone. Hell, even Josh kept eyeing you and Quinn. But the wine running through your veins was making you crave Quinn's touch even more.

All the happy couples surrounding you certainly weren't helping. Every kiss you caught a glimpse of made you think of Quinn's lips. His soft lips. You felt your face begin to heat up as your mind wandered too deep into memories of your last time with Quinn.

"I know that look," Quinn said as he walked up to stand beside you.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you feigned innocence. Your thoughts were nowhere near innocent.

Quinn stepped in front of you, dangerously close, "Yeah, you do. You've got that look on your face that you have while we're..." He leaned in close to whisper the rest of his sentence in your ear, "...alone."

You closed your eyes and gulped. He has you in the palm of his hand, and right now was not the best time to be feeling such things.

Quinn's hands found your hips and pulled you closer to be pressed up against him, "I don't think anyone's watching."

"Quinn..."

"Just one kiss," he proposed. "To get it out of our system."

You looked around and discovered that your boyfriend was right. Everyone was too wrapped up with the party to pay any mind to you two. You gave into him and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him softly.

Quinn brought a hand up to your cheek and cupped your face when you pulled away, "I love how red you get every time I kiss you."

Then it happened.

A flash. A camera flash to be exact.

You began to panic. Once Brady and Emma get all the wedding photos, your secret would be out. There was no chance that you could play off whatever the camera caught as something just between friends!

"Shit!" you said, a little too loudly.

Your big brother was more keen to you than you thought, because you saw Matthew spin around in search of you. Those stupid protective tendencies never shut off for him. He was the oldest. He felt responsible for his siblings. His protectiveness is normally your saving grace, but it was your number one enemy right now.

"I know a place where we won't be found," Quinn hurried out. You grabbed his hand, "Let's go."

You two dashed out of the reception hall, not too fast as to make a scene, but you weren't moving slowly.

You two were practically sprinting through the hotel towards the elevators once you escaped the reception hall.

"Quinn, your hotel room would be too obvious!"

"That's why we're going to Matthew's," he said as if it was obvious.

"What?!"

"He gave me his key to watch because he tends to lose things," Quinn explained. "Your brother's hotel room is the last place people would think to look. I don't even think Matthew knows which room he's in."

Quinn had a point. You were pretty sure if anyone actually saw anything it would be Matty, and his own hotel room was not going to be his first idea of places to look. You immediately pulled Quinn closer to you the second he got the door open. You kissed him hungrily as you walked backwards, only parting when he gently laid you down on the couch.

Quinn climbed on top of you and started to kiss you again. His tongue slipped into your mouth as his hands gripped your hips, wrinkling your bridesmaids dress between his fingers. You moaned into his mouth when he bit your lip, which only made him bite harder before he tugged and pulled away. He then trailed his lips across your jaw and down your neck. You gasped and gripped your hands onto the ends of his hair, feeling the oxytocin flood through your body now that you finally get to feel his touch.

His left hand found its way under your dress. He traveled up your thigh slowly, making you shudder. His fingers lightly grazed across your silk panties, teasing you as he snapped the top edge against your skin.

"Please," you whimpered. It's been so long since he was last able to touch you— really touch you. Long distance is hard, but a secret long distance relationship? It's hell. "I need you."

"We don't plan on going back down to the party, do we?" Quinn asked you low. You hummed a no, pursing your lips as you tried to keep it together. "Good," he smirked.

Your heartbeat quickened when he reached up a hand to caress your cheek, something he does when he wants you to look at him. You opened your eyes to stare into his greens, completely mesmerized by the hold this man has on you. Just with one touch he can get you to do what he wants and he knows it.

"I want you to beg," he instructed. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows expectantly, and did so subtly.

"Please," you whined.

Quinn tutted in disapproval. He wanted more than that from you. He leaned down close to your ear as he slid his hand up your body to your tit and softly squeezed, "I'm going to need more than that, baby."

"Please, fuck me," you said with more urgency. He was driving you insane.

"Please, fuck me, what?" he smirked.

"Please, fuck me, Daddy."

Quinn gave you a sly smile, "Well... since you asked so nicely.”

– – –

Your naked frame laid atop of Quinn’s, your head against his chest, as the two of you fought to catch your breath. If you were home, at either of your homes, the notion of having to get up and get dressed wouldn’t even have even crossed your minds. And if it did, you would’ve laughed it off. You don’t get that luxury when you decide to sneak off during your brother’s wedding to your other brother’s hotel room.

“Q–”

“Don’t,” Quinn cut you off. He brought a hand up and ran it up and down through your hair, “Not yet. We have time.”

“How do you know?” you whispered.

“Because the world can’t be that cruel to me,” he mumbled, holding you tighter.

Turns out, the world could be that cruel to him. To both of you. Because the loud and rowdy voices of Matthew, Jack, and Luke were coming closer and closer.

You practically dived off of Quinn and started to put your dress back on. Quinn was frantically looking for his jacket before giving up entirely and going without it.

“Act drunk!” Quinn whisper shouted at you.

“What?!”

“Act drunk! Go sit by the toilet and act like you’ve been throwing up!”

You finally caught on to what Quinn was saying. There was no way you two could escape out of Matthew’s hotel room, but you could act like you intended to be in here. Quinn grabbed a hand towel and got it wet. He rubbed it across your face so it seemed like he had cleaned your face off post you throwing up. You then threw open the toilet lid and flushed it, hoping that the boys were close enough to have heard it. Quinn sat down on the bathroom floor with his back against the wall and his legs straight out, and you curled up into a ball and laid your head on his thigh. You weren’t drunk by any means, but you were pretty inebriated, so forcing yourself to cry like you normally do post throwing up wasn’t that hard.

You guess they went to the front desk to get another key to Matthew’s room, because instead of a knock, you heard the door click open. Matthew immediately heard your sniffles and rushed into the bathroom, “What’s wrong?!”

“Y/N got super drunk, and your room was closer than mine, sorry,” Quinn said softly, rubbing your back up and down.

“I didn’t see her drinking a lot,” Luke said suspiciously.

“She can be a lightweight if she doesn’t eat enough,” Matthew said, completely oblivious to what Luke was insinuating. He was crouched down on the ground trying to tend to you. He looked at Quinn, “I got her.”

Quinn helped move you into a position where Matthew could pick you up and carry you to the bed.

“I don’t feel good, Matty,” you fake cried.

“I know, Y/N/N,” Matthew shushed you. “I’m here, it’s okay.”

Matthew told Quinn to unmake the bed so that he could put you in it. Matthew gently laid you down and Quinn covered you up. Matthew left to get you some water and Advil and told Quinn to watch you.

“Next time, I’m picking the place,” you mouthed. Quinn silently chuckled and sent you a wink before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“You got this?” Jack asked his brother.

“I had it before you got here, so…” Quinn trailed off.

“Alright, alright,” Jack said. “No need for sass!”

Jack left, but before Luke followed him, he stopped to look at you and Quinn. He looked out the door and when Jack was far enough away, he spoke.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Luke started.

“Yes! Oh my god, yes! Happy?” you shouted out, not lifting your head to look at him.

Luke smiled and looked back at Quinn, who sheepishly ran his fingers through his hair and nodded.

“I knew it!”

Quinn came back to you once Luke had left and knelt on the ground to be eye level with you.

“You put on quite the show just to cave and tell Luke,” he said.

“Yeah, well, your little brother is relentless,” you pouted.

“That he is,” Quinn laughed lightly.

“My brothers will make a big deal of it. I want the beginning of this relationship to be us figuring us out, not them telling us what our relationship is,” you told Quinn. Quinn grabbed your hands in his and kissed them, “Just as long as you know better places we can hide.”

“Trust me, Q, I know a lot of better places than my brother’s hotel room.”

[the-oblivious-writer]

After The Storm |1|

Tara Carpenter x Spider-Women!Reader

Chapter One: Mutant Lizards & Kisses

(idk how many chapters I'll do for this series but I'm just winging it for now)

Summary: After your fight with The Lizard, you climb back with quite a few injuries. Luckily, Tara's there to tend to them

Warning(s): Swearing, Police!Sam 🤭, mentions of fighting & injuries

Notes: Based off of this scene in TASM (gotta be one of my favorite scenes). Wrote this while taking a break from writing chp 6 of LTLI. Motivation for this kinda just came to me and I've always wanted to do a spider!reader thing

Masterlist|Next Part

You limped, nearly collapsing on the roof as you held your side.Your trap for Dr. Connors did not work out how you planned, and your recklessness to get more photos than you needed ended you up with none.

You painfully crawled down, making your way to the fire escape outside the window you recognized. You knocked on it three times with your head, ignoring your pounding headache. You kept your head resting on the window as you heard clicking from the other side. Tara looked over to you and smiled before saying, “Come in,” then turning back to the assignment she was working on.

You push the window up, sliding through the opening as you exhale tiredly. 

“You should maybe, uh, consider coming in through the main entrance,” Tara jokes and you huff a laugh. 

You struggle to lift yourself until finally hopping into her room

“Also, my sister is under the impression that you require psychiatric attention….” Tara finally turns to you when she hears you grunt and her eyes slightly widen.

“Y/N.” She stood up from her chair and rushed over to you. You’re now leaning against the wall, when Tara comes up to you. 

“What the hell happened?” She asked quickly.

“You should see the other guy,” you say in a husky voice; you can still see Tara fretting over your injuries.

She carefully walks you to her bed, gently laying you down, not wanting to cause you any further pain. You tilt your head back as you continue to speak through deep breaths, “the other guy, in this instance being a giant mutant lizard.”

“You’re all bruised up–”

“Tara, I’m fi–”

“You’re not fine,” Tara interrupted in a sharp tone.

“Tara–”

You both stopped your movement when you heard Sam’s voice from the other side of the door.

“Hey, Tara, I have to run to the station. Do you want me to pick up some ice cream from that place you like, on the way back?” You and Tara shared a look before she got up and you rolled to the floor. 

Tara opened the door just a few inches to greet her older sister. “No, Sam. I do not want ice cream. I can’t afford any distractions right now. I have a bunch of exams to prepare for,” Tara said, trying to fake an aggravated tone.

“Okay, I just remember somebody saying last week that her fantasy was to live in an ice cream house,” Sam reminded Tara. 

“Well that's impractical,” she said, shutting the door. “And fattening,” she added after opening the door, now shutting it again.

She turned around to see you peeking from behind the bed, giving her a dopey smile. “An ice cream house?” You questioned, still wearing the same expression.

Tara rolled her eyes, nodding, still not saying a word before turning back around to open the door once again. 

“Sorry…” Tara apologized to Sam. 

“It’s really good ice cream.”

“It’s just I can’t, um, I'm doing this um—paper and I’m really focused on it. Didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay, I get it. How about I bring you a some for later?” 

“Okay, sounds good. Thanks Sammy,” Tara said with a smile before shutting the door one more time.

As soon as she walked back in the room, she gave you no room to talk. Already giving you directions to follow as she got her medkit from her nightstand’s bottom drawer. 

“Roll down your suit.”

You sigh but comply. “I’m fine, just a little banged up. I almost got him though—Dr. Connors. I can feel it, Tar. I’m gonna get him next time.”

“I swear, Y/N, if you get yourself killed I will make sure you regret it,” the younger Carpenter threatened.

“Why? Gonna miss me?” You teased, looking at the other girl as her attention was on the rubbing alcohol she was preparing. 

“In your dreams, Y/L/N,” Tara replied, but you saw the tiny smile she gave you before looking back at what she was doing. 

“Ah…” You softly groaned, feeling the sting as the rubbing alcohol made contact with your open wound.

Tara gave you an apologetic look, “It’ll be done soon.” 

“And when that's done?”

“What do you mean?” Tara asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“After this, how about we do something?”

She lightly shook her head with a smile before replying. “And Sam comes home to an empty apartment? Yeah, no.”

“I’ll get you home in time before Sam is,” you reassure her. 

“You’re forgetting Sam’s a police captain,” Tara’s body betrays her as she melts into your touch, feeling your hand gently sneak up her arm.

“Unless she can track my web-shooters, I think we’re good.”

 “I don’t know…” she looks down, averting her attention to one of your other cuts she’s tending too.

You left hand lifts her head, her chin resting on your knuckles.

“Come on…” 

Your foreheads meet and the towel in her hand is long forgotten. You brush your thumb against her bottom lip, you both slightly lean in until your lips are only centimeters apart. 

“Easy bug girl…” You heard her whisper.

“What’d you just call me?” You asked as you both lightly laugh, faces never pulling from each other. 

“Let's get out of here,” you said as you comedically shook your head around, causing Tara to giggle. “Just for a minute, come on.”

Your noses rubbed together as Tara leaned into you. 

“No..”

“Yeah..”

“Noo..”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Noooo…” She hated how much she wanted to say yes to you.

“Yesss,” your smile never falters through this yes and no battle. You looked at how Tara looked away for a moment before looking back at you with a smile she was visibly fighting and in that moment you knew you won.

“...I better be home before Sam is.” 

—

When you land back on Tara’s fire escape, she’s clinging onto you for dear life while her face's buried in your chest. You smile down at her as you tell her, “We’re back by the way,” resisting the urge to place a kiss on her head.

“Yeah—yeah I knew that,” she replied, slowly pulling away from you.

You can’t help but chuckle at her shooken state. “Oh, you think this is funny? We were so high up—a drop that high is deadly, Y/N.”

“You think I’d drop ya?” 

“No, cause’ then Sam would bury you alive.”

“Speaking of Sam,” you’re both fully in the room now as you look at her bedroom door and then back at Tara, “Looks like she’s not here…”

“Y/N…”

“Tara…”

“I already let you swing me around while a billion feet in the air; you’re still needy for my attention?” She teased, slightly tilting her head.

“What, you don’t wanna hang out with me?” You teased back.

You’re now directly in front of her, Tara’s legs hit the back of the bed and you can feel her breath on yours. Your hands end up on her hips and her left hand lightly cups your jaw.

In a husky voice you begin, “Tara, you have no idea–" 

Suddenly the front door can be heard opening, the various locks twisting and turning. You and Tara looked at each other before Tara shoved you under the bed. Footsteps came closer and closer until Sam opened the door to find her sister sitting at her desk, headphones in, and pen in hand.

Tara turned to look at the door, pulling out her headphones when she made eye contact with Sam. “Oh, hey Sam. I was just finishing up this paper,” Tara said innocently, giving the paper a single tap with her pen.

Sam slightly nodded, looking around—Tara noticed this. “Did you need something?” Tara asked the older Carpenter.

“Uh, no—no, I just thought I heard something. Anyways,” Sam slightly shook her head, “got you that ice cream. It’s in the freezer when you want it.”

“Thanks, Sam. Love you,” Tara responded. “Love you too,” Sam said back with a smile before leaving the room but not without taking one more scan of the room.

You waited another minute before crawling out from under her bed. 

“That was a close one, bug girl.”

“Is that gonna be a permanent nickname?”

“You bet it is, bug girl."

You playfully rolled your eyes, a smile grazing your face when you see her dimples show. "You're lucky you're cute," you tell her.

"Oh? Would you rather me call you my savior?" Tara jokingly batted her eyelashes at you.

You bit lip in thought. "It's got a ring to it..."

"Yeah, no. 'Think I'm sticking with bug girl for now."

"Worth a shot," you shrugged before walking over to her,"Now...where were we?"

"You were leaving–"

"Mmm, no. That' not what I recall."

Before Tara could respond, you began placing kisses that travled to her jaw then neck, making her knees grow weak as you slowly lead her to the bed until her back softly hit the mattress.

You hovered above her while she gratefully accepted your touch, holding onto your biceps while you continued to kiss her.

"Y/N, my sister's right outside. And if you've forgotten; she has a warrant out for your 'wall crawling vigilante ass'—her words, not mine," Tara said, breath hitching as you continued to kiss her neck.

You stopped mid kiss, looking around the room then slightly frowned, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked back at her. "Is she here in the room with us...? Cause I don't see her."

"Y/N..."

"Tara..."

Tara let out a light sigh, raising one of her hands to cup your jaw. "Five. Minutes." She told you, holding your jaw with a gentle yet firm grip.

"Yes ma'am."

-----------

A/N: R because she didn't pack extra web fluid like Tara told her to:

[strwbrryeyes]

𖦹°｡⋆ haikyuu boys as my breakup playlist

⟡ featuring: suna, oikawa, tsukishima, atsumu

⟡ cw: angst, idk still bad at these

⟡ an: i found my old breakup playlist from three years ago and took inspiration from that so these songs are old lol. writing this was silly because im in a loving relationship but it was like i felt all the pain of a breakup again </3

⟡ part two, part three

⟡ suna rintarou: you broke me first - tate mcrae

suna would be the one to break things off with you. when you first started dating he genuinely thought he loved you but as time went on and he became more distant, you started to feel like he was losing feelings for you so you asked him about it. in his words, "i think you were just the first girl to give me attention after my last relationship" and "im not ready for a relationship". a week later, he starts talking about all the girls that have come to him after the breakup and started talking about his hookups to you. this bothered you and hurt you deeply so you decided to cut things off with him completely and he was not a fan of this. so he tried everything to try to get you to talk to him again saying that he misses you and that he wants to get back together. you couldn't care less though, he's already broken your heart too many times for you not to notice his pattern of wanting your attention just to make you jealous or upset. in the end, it actually did end up hurting him and made him realize what he lost. he knew he fucked up but there's no going back anymore.

⟡ oikawa tooru: over breakfast - ellise

it's been a few months since oikawa left for argentina. it's been hard for the both of to be apart for so long and in completely different timezones. you could feel the connection fading but neither of you wanted to admit it because you both loved each other so much. but the longer you guys try to keep the relationship afloat, the more frequent you end up arguing over text or facetime. but you both decided that it could be something to figure out when oikawa visits for the holidays. well, the holidays come around and you finally have time to see each other and talk in person. from the moment oikawa entered your apartment, you both knew it was over. you could tell so many things have changed over the course of the last few months but instead of facing it, you just decide to spend one more night together just to have one final time to say that you tried. it was bittersweet and it hurt a lot but you didn't want the night to end. maybe you could fix this over night? in the morning everything will be better and you can set aside your differences! unfortunately, that morning, nothing had changed and you and oikawa finally came to terms with the fact that maybe you two just maybe weren't meant to be.

⟡ tsukishima kei: high definition - waterparks

when tsukishima was still part of the sendai frogs, he traveled a lot. it's not like he was off in another country like some of his old teammates and rivals, no, you lived with him. even though you two had been dating for quite some time by this point, tsukishima still had trouble expressing his love for you. he tended to push you away whenever he was stressed even though the one thing he wanted the most was your comfort and loving. he was just worried he would end up snapping at you and making you hate him. he didn't know that you'd end up upset with him regardless. you loved him so much but you don't know how long you could going on like this. i mean come on! tsukishima was always away for volleyball matches and even when he's home...it's like he's still not even there. tsukishima knew that you were starting to slip away from him so one day he sat you down and explained how he was feeling and it was finally then that you understood why he acted the way he did. you tried protesting his decision to break up with you but he kept insisting it was for the better. by the next week tsukishima had moved out leaving you alone in the once shared apartment, wishing and hoping he'd come back one day.

⟡ miya atsumu: better off - ariana grande

everyone knew that atsumu could be hot headed most of the time when it came to volleyball but what they didn't know is that it would sometimes affect your relationship with him. much like tsukishima, he would close himself off from you whenever he was mad at the world or whatever else there is that could make him upset. it was starting to get tiring for you. you felt like you had to walk on egg shells around him just so he wouldn't snap at you (wether he meant to or not- his mind would always fog up). towards the end of your relationship, you could feel yourself start to get numb in regards to your feelings towards atsumu. atsumu couldn't really tell at this point that you were losing hope for the relationship. if anything he thought everything was normal but that was only because half of the time he was too much into his own thoughts to notice any flaws between the two of you. it wasn't until he came home one day after an away game on the other side of japan and found that all of your stuff was gone along with you, that he realized nothing is what it used to be. he found a note from you that explained that you weren't happy in the relationship anymore and that you felt trapped. you also stated that you hope he figures out his issues and that you'll always be there for him if he needs but that right now you just needed space. atsumu spent that night crying and angry at himself for letting your relationship get to this point.

[floef-likes-minecraft]

Work

“Good moring~!” Pearl started as she crossed the DHP parking lot with a pep in her step. It was a beautiful day, she had been up since the crack of dawn riding around the Server on Donkey (who is a mule) to deliver all sorts of letters and parcels. While Tango and Etho were still busy getting the entire mailing system online, she was happy to deliver more by hand.

Recently, the DHP had gotten an influx in mail having to be delivered to them and Pearl had made friends with the somewhat grumpy clerk that was sometimes maybe around. Today he was, for which Pearl was happy because that meant she could give him the mail personally instead of trying to get it into the building by shoving it under the broken door. The office was still under construction, so Pearl could forgive them for not even having a small mailbox.

“We’re closed,” Grian said. He was lounging outside, sitting against the white wall of the building and taking in the sun that crested just over the trees. He looked like he could use a bit more of that sun, but not everybody was as blessed as Pearl to have the best job in the world as a Postmaster and be outside all the time.

“Oh, I’m just delivering the mail,” Pearl answered cheerfully as she dug into her postbag. Everything was perfectly organized so it didn’t take long for her to grab out a stack with at least ten letters bundled together. “There you go, mister Grian, it’s always such a pleasure coming out here!”

When Grian didn’t take the bundle Pearl handed out to him, she just but the them carefully on the pavement next to him. He looked at them like they had said something foul to him, which he wouldn’t know until he actually opened them. Then, Grian looked up again to Pearl and a frown appeared on his face.

“Why are you still here?” he asked, rather rudely.

“It’s just that we barely have the chance to properly have a chat,” Pearl simply explained. “I’m not actually sure if the mailing system will be operational this far out, so I might have to keep coming here myself. Isn’t that great?”

“You really don’t have to,” Grian argued weakly, as he grabbed a paper cup with a steaming liquid from his side and set it to his lips to take a little sip. He pulled a face as if he didn’t much like the beverage, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it’s my job and I do it with pleasure,” Pearl assured him with a smile. “Isn’t it just great how a job can be a calling?”

“Can’t say I share that sentiment,” Grian sighed. He had to squint against the light of the sun to look at Pearl. “Look, if there is anything you want from me you’re going to have to come back when we’re opened.”

“Oh, no, don’t you worry your little cotton socks,” Pearl answered, waving her hand. “That is the beauty of mail, you can tend to it whenever you have the time! You can do it first thing when you open again, some work to look forward to!”

Grian opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but ended up just shaking his head slowly. He must’ve had a rather bad night of sleep to be in such a mellow mood, Pearl assumed. She couldn’t imagine moping around at her job like this, it was way to wonderful to waste a day with a bad mood.

“So… do you have any mail to send?” she continued when Grian wasn’t pushing his conversation forward. “Any replies you need to send out from the letters I’ve brought you last week?”

“Haven’t gotten to them yet,” Grian answered dryly. “We were closed.”

“Oh,” Pearl was caught of guard by that but regrouped quickly. “Well, just know that you can count on the Hermit Post & Co to deliver anything you need. I can even deliver important documents if you want, with signed handover and everything. I’ll give it my extra secure, personal attention.”

“Great,” Grian answered with a sigh. “Don’t you have more mail to deliver? I was kind of in the middle of something.”

He took another sip from his drink, which seemed to be the ‘something’ he was in the middle of doing.

“Nope,” Pearl answered cheerful, shifting to sit next to Grian with her face turned towards the sun. “But I can enjoy this wonderful sunlight together with you. Isn’t that great?”

“… I don’t get paid enough for this.”   

[pascalsbby]

Hot Single Dad of The Neighborhood

Summary: It used to be benzos to take off the sharp pain of the day, this life- now it’s Joel fucking Miller.

Warnings: mdni, 18+, eventual smut (c’mon…wouldn’t be a celebration without it)

This is satire. Kinda. It’s me laughing at myself & my love for this fictional man. But you’re laughing along, because you get it. Let me know what you think!!

This is a part of my 700 follower’s celebration. Read the detailed description here 🩷

It all started with this:

Let me set the scene:

It’s 9:45pm on a Friday, and this is better than having the house to yourself. This is the time of week where we tuck our children (and husbands) in, and we gather around this shitty glass table as the tales are whispered through. It starts off with your usual: sugar-salted peach margaritas turned to two, a joint, and then the riveting conversation of, “now who would leave that dick?”

We call ourselves ‘Joel Miller’s Neighborhood Wives’. It’s a mouthful. But we like a mouthful. So- sit down, have a smoke, a wee little drink, and listen to the goss.

The neighborhood wives (Kat, Kali, Chloe on the right of you, Kit, Vic, Bug & Angela to the left) are all cuddled around Kat’s patio, enacting a dramatic retelling of ‘who the fuck is Joel Miller?’ Himself, somewhere across the street, wondering why every now and then he hears a chorus of squeals. Then, he smiles to himself and wishes he had the guts to grace y’all with his presence. He’s not invited though.

This is the first time you’ve hung out with them, and maybe the last, tbh. No way this Miller guy is worth all this fuss.

And, action.

It used to be benzos to take off the sharp pain of the day, this life- now it’s Joel fucking Miller. We take whatever we can get from him, between when we hear his truck two streets over, lightly running across the hollow wooden floors to put on our slippers. The low growl from his truck pipes (or yours) grows louder as he turns the corner onto the street. We watch as he drops out of the truck and thuds against the concrete, slamming that damn door closed. Probably how he lets all his ladies know he’s home. Our eyes follow his form, tapping all the way up to his front door before he takes those goddamn cowboy boots off. We stumble out of the front door and check the mail. Well, only for the third time that morning. What? We are all always expecting something, alright? You catch what you can before his shoulders disappear through the blue-chipped front door, right back into his house. We close the mailboxes simultaneously and sadly drip back to our front doors. No hello’s today.

Sometimes later in the night before supper, you’ll see the door shaped hole widen in the darkness, warmth boasting from behind as Joel’s form takes up the light, smiling as he pats Tommy on his way inside. Tommy usually drinks too much and stays the night, so we sit back and tend to the family. We ride our delusions in the meantime. Then, the cycle continues. It’s like… the cycle of life. You know?

He seems like your typical gentleman, Joel. A Southern-raised man, one who would let you be his nuclear-family sweetheart. Cook for him, clean for him, spread *it open for him, let his massive fucking hands feel any part of you they wanted. Especially if that meant they were to explore more under the stiff shirtwaist dresses. Or in. We would all rather him in.

Spread, what, exactly? Oh yeah dude, sorry. I meant: *Cunt, asshole, any part of you he wanted to look down the middle of and split open, really. We aren’t shy about it when it comes to talking to each other. Obviously.

The aforementioned Tommy?

That’s his brother, probably about seven or eight years younger. He is a beau too, but he doesn’t seem the type to really fuck it out of ya. I mean sure, he has done his fair share of fucking around with the moms’ of the neighborhood, too. Bug even whispered a tale of Tommy going after those mom’s college daughters, swooping in to help clean the pool before setting them gently on the concrete and swiping their panties to the side as he buried his face in them. He always made sure they were at least 22. This is only moments after the pretty younger girls make their way back into the pretty, white iron gates afront their parents' houses.

Fair enough, he has the same curls wrapping down the base of his neck, kissing the skin beneath them. He has the ‘Miller Smirk’ - what the town wives call it. The Miller brothers are known throughout the neighborhood for their distinct brand of charm. Both possess an effortless charisma that begs you to get on your knees. But they never let us. Sad. Their shared features aren’t few, but none are as similar and charming as their half-smiles. Grins always slightly tilted, as if they were sharing an inside joke with each other but not the rest of the world.

So of course Tommy is desired to an extent, physically, of course. Emotionally? Probably not. But shit, you’d have both if you could. Paris looks great this time of year. Anyways.

He wasn’t the Miller we all grappled over and wanted so deeply, despite a metal band around our fingers (or not). His competency and willingness. They way he looks at his daughter. Oh yeah…girl dad. The way he looks in the Texas heat. His back, flexed and sweating through his too-tight shirt. “The day that man wears a white shirt and it’s over 90 degrees- I will drop fucking dead. Someone take care of the kid for me,” Kat.

There’s been one story about Joel that is retold over and over like it’s fuckin’ Genesis Chapter 3, creation and all. The story on how, why, we all got here to begin with. No one can agree who first told it. Angela or Bug, shit…was it Chloe? Okay, okay, it really doesn’t matter at the moment. Just listen.

It was late August, three years ago. Hot and dripping with the dead-end heat of summer. Almost as if it was giving all it could before the last of it sputtered out and away, knowing Fall was right around the corner to take its place- happy to finally have a rest. A for sale sign that had been smiling at you for months was suddenly gone, the dirt still fresh from where it had been happily ripped. Joel Miller, Mr. Texas cowboy himself showed up one day as the crickets started singing, he kissed the cicadas goodbye for the season, unloaded the Miller Construction van and then he never left. A few weeks later after he and his brother fixed up the place, a little girl was running up the concrete to the front door. But there was no wife.

When he moved into the neighborhood, a new era dawned. It was one where the wives would rather mow the lawn, take the trash cans out on Wednesday nights, and tend to the long-forgotten garden. No really, all of our gardens are pristine now. Because somewhere not too far away there was a beautiful, muscular man with a mustache you wanted to wet, and God, his nose. A nose that was prominent even a few houses down, sun setting behind as it sat there strong and just uh- you knew a nose like that would be tickling your clit while he used his tongue other places. Or the other way around, whichever way you were sitting. Whatever way he wanted you to sit.

It was something about that deep navy cotton shirt his chest and shoulders grace about once or twice a week. The other is some form of a Lakers’ tee, yellow or purple, love-worn but scrunched up and stretched in the right places. You’ll see. Maybe that in itself, how it wraps around his sun-bathed/loved/kissed skin is the reason for everyone’s fever induced fluster. Maybe it’s the drawl, and the fact he absolutely drips of sex.

Most interactions end with deep breaths leaning against the door, knocking on your chest. Or texting the group message (we’ll add you in a minute, it’s called JMW)((Joel Miller’s Whores)). He always has something to say, something to coo at you while you in turn try not to purr back… at least with your mouth. Although no, because you would purr around him with your mouth if he’d only ask for it.

But you? Metaphorically, denoting us all. No, he would never look down upon you, between his eyelashes and brooding smile, dark, tanned skin smelling of the day- “want you to pull the pretty dress up and get on your knees. I’m tired from the day, workin’ so hard for this family. Leas’ you could do is suck my cock, no?” And he didn’t know it, but he was right. He did work so hard for this family. He was your maladaptive daydreaming, he’s what you giggle at during fake conversations, he was the cock slipping between your hungry folds at night.

Instead, it was half-baked smiles and short waves in the drop off line in the morning. He walks Sarah in, every single day. She’s getting to the age where she seems like she’d deter the sweet action, but she doesn’t- she loves him that much. We never see him in the afternoon, his barely-present wife (he has to have a wife, right? Like Bug says, “I mean look at him”), was probably the one picking up Sarah. Probably taking her to some even bigger house on the richer side of town because it's her turn to watch her. How the hell could you leave someone like Joel?

But regardless, we never see her. Never have the entire time we’ve peeked out of our blinds, running to turn off the lamp so no one can see the strip of light coming from the window.

He has never brought a woman inside of that house, let alone has anyone left it. Once, Tommy brought a girl to their Thanksgiving dinner and Vic told Kit she had come alone, first, and hugged Joel. That “Joel was extra smiley to her.” Moral of the story, we don’t know for sure if he’s still married or he’s just somehow keeping that dick to himself.

Jesus, Kat retold that story for three fucking weeks. But, we don’t really blame her. It was how it all began.

Don’t get me wrong, Joel Miller is available- if that pesky little wasp hive directly atop your living room window is getting out of hand, and you just happen to be a single mom who so desperately needs a man’s touch. Not like that. Well, yeah like that. Then, you could count on Joel Miller to back up his old blue truck bed into your driveway, set up his ladder, and allow you to spend the next hour watching through the window as his shirt pulls up his stomach as he does his diligent work.

His v-lines kissed by veins and tufted black hair towards his middle, peeking up and saying hello every time his jeans got a little too low. Musta forgot his usual belt. Or maybe his work belt was a tad too heavy today. Uh, to take that pressure off of his back for him, and into your hands.

-

But him owing you? That’s a different kind of available. It was a week later, the morning before the mom gathering, and you had only seen Joel once. Yes… peaking through your blinds. Then you heard his voice.

“Hi ma’am,” he waved, turning your attention from where you were setting your bags in the car. “Sarah, ask the pretty lady what you wanted, don’t make her wait any longer in this heat.” He was loading his work tools into the bed of his pickup. Another bed of his you’d like to grace.

Shit. Maybe this Miller was worth the fuss.

-

Part 2 later this week babes <3 It will be an actual fic, hehe.

@justagalwhowrites @cool-iguana @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @netherfeildren @chloeangelic

[thelargefrye]

FIRST LOVE … one - shot (18+)

pairing : dragon!wooyoung x witch!f!reader

genre : dragon au, fantasy / medieval, hurt / comfort, smut (pwp)

word count : 4.6k

warnings : language, slight blood, negative thoughts about oneself, cheating accusations, miscommunication, mentions of dragon hunting, nightmares, allusion to possible ptsd

smut warnings : unprotected sex, concept of mates / mating, monster cock!wooyoung, virgins!woo & yn, love making, marking / biting

requested by : bestie @songmingisthighs

wooyoung has been acting strange lately and after avoiding you one too many times, and you finally break down and question what is really going on with him.

WOOYOUNG HAD BEEN ACTING STRANGE LATELY. which at first you hadn’t thought anything about, maybe it was some dragon thing you weren’t aware of. however, it started to get concerning when he began avoiding you more and more each day.

it began with simple and quick responses which slowly turned into just one word answers. then he started detaching himself from you, you go to hold his hand and he would rip it away. like your skin was burning his and it made you feel awful. when he would go out to either hunt or visit the nearby town, he would be gone for longer than usual. then he just stopped speaking to you and even avoided sleeping in your shared bed.

you remember waking up to find him sleeping in the extra room you had at the cottage, the room that you converted into a bedroom when you first met him. it had been years since he slept there and finding him there alone instead of with you made your heart twist and it honestly made you want to throw up.

was this his way of telling you he didn’t love you anymore. that he was tired of you and was wanting to leave. but if he wanted to leave then why didn’t he? why did he keep coming back? did he pity you or something.

“wooyoung,” you decided to confront him one day. the red haired dragon was outside tending to your shared garden — it was his day to tend to it, when you approached him. he says nothing so you decide to continue, “what’s been going on with you lately? you’ve been distancing yourself from me. you won’t even speak to me, let alone look at me. did i… did i do something wrong?”

again, you are met with silence as his back remains facing you. you can feel the tears begin to form and you have to take a quick breath in order to not cry.

“do you want to leave?” you finally ask, feeling your heart break as you do so. it’s only when you ask that does wooyoung stop picking herbs and turn to look at you. his face is void of emotions, which is extremely unusual coming from him, as he looks at you. “if you do… then please just go. i don’t want to keep you here if you don’t want to be,” you add before turning away and heading back into the cottage just as the tears start to fall.

the rest of the day went by with you working on making different medicines and potions, completely ignoring wooyoung. not that he probably noticed anyway since he had been doing the same to you for weeks now. when nightfall came, you continued to stay inside your workroom, still not having the energy to see wooyoung.

when you do eventually come out hours later, you find a plate of food sitting on your small dining table. you feel like crying again due to how even if wooyoung is unhappy here, he still took the time to make your dinner as well.

you know that sooner or later you will have to let him go, and you slowly realized that when you sat by yourself eating a cold dinner while the man you love was asleep in the bedroom down the hall.

THAT REALIZATION CAME SOONER than you thought when you woke up the next morning being alone. you woke up feeling like something was off and once you surveyed the cottage, it was only then that you noticed wooyoung was gone.

he really left, you think as take in the neatly made bed of the room he had been staying in. did he even sleep in last night or did he leave once you finally went to bed? you didn’t want to cry anymore, but the knowledge of finally being alone again overwhelmed you as you fell to your knees and sobbed.

you thought that maybe wooyoung would be different. that he would stay and that you wouldn’t have to bare being alone anymore after the years you had suffered being alone. but no. wooyoung left just like chaewon and your teacher and even your mother.

but you don’t blame wooyoung for leaving. you can’t find it in yourself to hate him because you love him so much. you remained on the floor until the tears finally stopped and then you stood up and started your day.

you hate how easily you found it to fall back in a rhythm of doing everything by yourself, even after it’s been several days since wooyoung left. how your body and mind are just use to doing things by yourself. you can’t help but fall back in the lonely feeling you felt several years ago.

the feeling swallows you whole as you go about your day and even when you have to take the journey to the nearby village to get some more herbs and supplies. even when the villagers greet you, you can’t escape the loneliness and the fact that they will all still have someone at home waiting for them while you will return back to an empty cottage.

after you get your herbs and are making your way back to your cottage when you pass by the village healer’s shop. you find yourself coming to a halt when you watch the door to the shop open and out steps a familiar head of red hair. you’re shocked to see wooyoung as you would have figured he would be long gone by now. especially since it’s been several days, almost a whole week, since he left the cottage.

is this where he went? is this where’s he’s been? so many questions are swarming through your head as you as you watch wooyoung speak to the healer. he looks different somehow, like his whole aura and energy has changed. and most importantly of all… wooyoung was finally smiling.

you felt bitter and maybe a little jealous at seeing him interact with the healer. why was he visiting this healer when you were right there with him this whole time. if he was sick, why didn’t he come to you about it? why did he distance himself and basically shun you away from him?

something then hits you that makes you want to cry and tear your heart out. what if he wasn’t sick and was seeing the healer for another reason? what if… what if the healer was making wooyoung happy when you couldn’t anymore.

you feel the herbs slipping out of your hands and onto the ground, but you don’t bother to pick them up. you don’t have the energy to pick them up as all you had can do is turn and runaway from the sight of wooyoung and the healer and back into the forest.

tears blur your vision as you run through the forest, unsure if you’re even going in the right direction. you don’t care anymore. you don’t care if you make it back to the cottage, you just want to run. run far away in hopes that you’ll never have to see any other human, witch, dragon, or any other mythical creature again. you want to be alone for the rest of your miserably sad life.

alone.

because that’s all you deserve.

you suddenly trip over some up-grown tree roots and falling fast to the ground. your hands and knees slid across the ground the tree roots, scraping them as you fell while the air was knocked out of you. once you manage to sit up, you remain on the forest floor for several moments. you don’t have the energy anymore after knowing that wooyoung has potentially found someone else to make him happy. to make him smile and to receive his love.

what did you do wrong? you question yourself as you look up at the sky. maybe should accept the fact that witches and dragons are never meant to be together. because no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that dragons and witches could never get along, you wanted to prove yourself wrong. you want to prove all the other witches wrong in that a witch and dragon could love each other.

“y/— are — /n— y/n!”

you don’t hear the familiar voice calling for you. nor do you hear the leaves crunching and heavy footsteps as the person searches for you.

“y/n! please, say something! where are you?” you turn to see wooyoung standing a good distance away from you. he’s out of breath as he stares at you before he makes his way towards you.

“y/n?” his voice is soft, softer than what you had heard in the last few weeks, as he drops to his knees in front of you. “what are doing out here in the middle of the forest?”

is that all he has to say after weeks of shutting you out? why is he suddenly caring about you after leaving for a week? why?

he tries to touch you, but you shove his hands away as you feel the tears build up once more.

“what—

“how dare you try to act that you care about me all of a sudden! how dare you act like you hadn’t ignored and pushed me away for weeks before leaving in the middle of the night! how dare you leave me alone, jung wooyoung! i hate you so much!” you sob as you hit his chest weakly.

wooyoung doesn’t say anything at first as he opts to pull you into his arms. you try to fight him at first, but eventually you give up and finally accept that you are in his arms again.

“i’m sorry for acting the why i did and for leaving. i know i shouldn’t have but i was scared and confused. will you come with me, so i can explain everything?” he asks as he pulls you away gently from him to look at your glassy eyes.

YOU’RE SURPRISED WHEN WOOYOUNG turns into his dragon form and heads for the direction of the southern mountains. you want to question the dragon, but you realize you better wait until you land. you knew the southern mountains were filled with all sorts of magical creatures.

you also knew about the dragon oracle that resided in the mountain, having heard many tales about how she had killed many dragon hunters and took in clanless dragons.

your eyes filtered down to wooyoung when you thought of clanless dragons. you knew wooyoung was one which is mainly why he had been living with you since you met him. you remember how scared and wounded he was when you found him on the verge of death near your cottage. how he tried to fight you off and refused your help before you basically dragged him inside your cottage with all your strength.

you remember him telling you how his clan had been burned to the ground by dragon hunters. he wasn’t sure if his family had even made it out, that his mother pushed him to run as a far away as he could. you know wooyoung still has nightmares about what happened to his clan, even years later. you always feel awful when he wakes up sobbing in the middle of the night, all you can do is hold him and comfort him.

hopefully the healer will be able to comfort him from now on like you use to.

you look up from wooyoung to see the southern mountains coming into view. you keep having to remind yourself how faster it is to travel by dragon and how easily they cross lands within such a short amount of time compared to humans.

when wooyoung lands, you make quick work to slide off of him and you notice the small house not too far from where he landed. where did he take you?

“wooyoung, where are we?” you ask turning to see the red haired dragon back in his human form as he makes his way towards you.

“this is… this is where the southern mountains’ dragon oracle lives,” wooyoung starts, “this is where i was this past week,” he adds on as he takes a few steps in front of you in order to lead you towards the home of the dragon oracle.

“why?” you ask as you follow wooyoung up the seemingly earth-made steps. you stumble a little on one step and wooyoung is quick to turn and catch you, pulling you to his chest, your faces only centimeters apart.

your mind flashes back to seeing wooyoung in the village with the healer, and you move away from him and you let out an awkward cough. “thank you…” you mumble before going in front of him.

“her name is seolhyun,” wooyoung tells you once you stand in front of the oracle’s door. he goes to knock, but before he can the door suddenly swings open and there stands the dragon oracle.

she’s older than both you and wooyoung, but is beautiful nonetheless. she looks between you and wooyoung for a moment before they settle on you.

“it’s been many moons since i seen an umbra witch, may your clan rest in peace now,” she says to you as she slightly bows her head and you return it, for reasons you’re unsure of.

“oracle seolhyun, i’m sorry to bother you but—

seolhyun puts a hand up, stopping wooyoung from speaking any further. she looks at you with a small smile as she steps aside as if welcome you into her home.

“umbran witch, please enter, but the dragon must remain out here,” she says and wooyoung looks like he wants to object, but he changes his mind.

you turn to look at wooyoung with a worry glance and he gives you a small smile, “it’s okay, i’ll be right here when you come out.” you hesitate for a moment, not completely sure if you fully trust wooyoung. what’s stopping him from leaving you here while he goes back to the village to that healer.

you don’t say anything as you turn back to the oracle and enter into her house while wooyoung remains outside.

THE INSIDE OF THE ORACLE’S HOUSE is dark with it being illuminated by many candles scattered around the rooms. you notice that heavy fabric curtains drape over the windows, blocking out any and all natural light.

“come, umbra witch,” the older dragon says guiding you through her home where she sits you down in a chair. “do you want some tea?”

“um, sure, please,” you say feeling a little odd at how this all seems.

“your dragon brought you here for a reason,” she begins from behind you as she makes tea for the two of you. “he came five days ago questioning about himself and his inner dragon,” she adds and you remain quiet. “i told him that his inner dragon spirit was yearning for his mate. that it was was starting to reject his human side and confuse his emotions,” she says and you jump at how the tea kettle suddenly goes off, startling you.

she places two cups on the table between you both, one for you and one for her. “you said his inner dragon was yearning for… his mate? what does that mean?”

“dragons like several other species have mates that they are destined to be with for the rest of their life. some dragons are even blessed with more than one mate, our ancestors seeing this as blessing equaling for good things to come or happen,” she explains the concept of mates to you before she takes a sip of her tea.

“so… wooyoung needs to be with… his mate then?” you ask trying to wrap your head around all the information she just dumped on you.

“his first one. wooyoung is destined to have eight mates, but only when the time is right will he meet the other ones,” she tells you.

“his first one?” you echo and she nods.

“when dragons are near their mates, but haven’t done the mating ritual yet their inner dragon become restless and wants to mate with them immediately even if the dragon doesn’t know that’s what’s happening,” she further explains and it suddenly clicks why wooyoung had been acting the way he had been.

it was his inner dragon that was making him act like this. you want to let out a sigh of relief, but your thoughts stop you as you think of wooyoung and the healer. is the healer… his mate? did he bring you hear to let you know that you weren’t his mate and that’s why he’s leaving you.

“do not overthink things dear umbra witch,” seolhyun says snapping you out of your thoughts. “not everything is what it seems, i suggest you speak with your dragon to solve your heartache.”

“who’s wooyoung’s mate?” you ask without thinking and you cringe at how desperate you sound.

the oracle lets out a small chuckle before speaking, “that is not something for me to answer. now go and speak with your dragon, he is waiting for you.”

you and the oracle bid each other goodbye before you are leaving her home. when you step outside you notice the sun has gone down and wooyoung is still where you left him. at the sound of you exiting the house, wooyoung snaps his head towards you and stand up with expecting eyes.

“what did she tell you?” he asks as he walks towards you but refrains from touching you.

“please take me home,” you tell him, wanting the time to think about what the dragon oracle told you. you also wanted time to think about what you wanted to say to wooyoung once return to your cottage.

WHEN YOU RETURN BACK TO THE COTTAGE, wooyoung follows you inside the familiar home which now has an air of uncertainty and coldness to it.

you know he’s waiting for you to speak as he hovers behind you, but you don’t know if you’re ready to speak to him yet. you don’t know if you’re fully ready to accept whether wooyoung might perhaps leave forever after this conversation. you want to prolong it as much as you can, no matter how selfish that may seem.

“y/n…” wooyoung says finally breaking the silence between you two.

“why didn’t you tell me you were going to see the oracle?” you ask, turning to look at him. you were trying hard not to cry. you didn’t want to cry in front of him. “i thought… i thought you— you had actually left,” you add and you notice the dragon licks his lips before he bites his lower one.

you deny how attractive he looks doing that simple action, but you push those thoughts to the back of your mind.

“i don’t know why i didn’t tell you. it was like my mind and body were acting on there own and i didn’t want to worry you more than i already had. it’s not an excuse and i’m sorry for how i acted, i just… i just needed answers,” he explains as you watch his eyes brim with tears and you feel your heart clench at the sight.

“who’s your mate?” you ask suddenly and he looks at you a little surprised and caught off guard by the question.

“isn’t it obvious?” he says looking at you with a lopsided smile as the tears run down his golden cheeks. you hate how beautiful he looks even when crying.

his response is probably what makes you finally cry, as you think about the healer from the village. wooyoung takes a step forward but you take one back away from him.

“please, just go wooyoung, go to that dumb healer and leave me by myself,” you say as you turn away from him as the tears continue to stream down your face.

“healer? what healer?” his voice is full of surprise as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“the healer from the village! your mate!” you shout and you’re surprised by how wooyoung grabs your shoulders and forces you to look at him.

“y/n, my sweet love, that healer is not my mate. you are, you are my mate. the one i am destined to be with forever,” he says looking at you with full seriousness.

“t-then why were you visiting the healer earlier today?” you question him and wooyoung looks a little shocked before a pink color dusts his cheeks.

“because… i-i was trying to make sure that i took the necessary precautions for when we mated,” he confesses and now it’s your turn to feel embarrassed when you get what he means by ‘mated.’ “i wanted to make sure i didn’t hurt you,” he adds on as he lets your shoulders go, but remains close to you.

“woo…” you say trailing off as you cup his face to have him look at you this time. “i’m sorry for assuming the worst,” you tell him and he lets out a small laugh.

“no,” he says shaking his head, “i’m sorry for making you doubt me, but please now that i will always remain loyal to you,” he says as he takes one of your hands and places a gently kiss on your palm.

WOOYOUNG HOVERS OVER YOU, the both of you naked and full vulnerable to each other as you lock eyes. your chest is covered in many love bites and your legs are shaking in anticipation for the two of you to finally become one.

“let me know if you start to feel any sort of pain, okay?” he says and you nod but wooyoung encourages you to use your voice.

“yes, wooyoung, i’ll let you know,” you tell me and he smiles before leaning down to you. wooyoung sits up a little in order to grab the oil he had gotten from the healer, an oil that it is meant to help makes things easier.

he’s about to pout some in his hand when you stop him, and he looks at you with concerned eyes. “let me do it,” you tell him, taking the bottle of oil from his hands before pouring some in your open palm. taking in the sight of his hard cock, you can’t help but feel the excitement and nervousness that courses through your veins.

wooyoung let’s out a long and loud moan as you begin to slowly stroke him. he tilts his head back and you take the moment to admire how his golden skin glistens with sweat and is covered in love bites. he looks beautiful like this and you can’t help but admire him a little longer as you stroke him.

“a-ah, y/n!” he says as he bucks his hips up before he’s reaching for the bottle of oil. he pours some the best he can while you continue to stroke him, covering his fingers in the oil before he’s tossing it to the side. his own hand comes down to cup your pussy before he’s easily sliding in two fingers making you let out a loud moan as the feeling of his fingers.

“fuck, you’re pussy feels so tight, can’t wait to fuck it, love,” he tells you making a heat come over your skin as he fingers you and forces you to listen to the wet sounds that come from your lower half. “it even sounds just a cute as your moans,” he adds with a large grin before he’s leaning over to kiss you.

“w-wooyoung, please, please fuck me,” you say once he pulls away from your lips and he smiles before slowly pulling out his fingers while you give his cock one last stroke.

“lay down, love,” he says and you find yourself in a the same position you were in a few minutes ago. his fingers knead at the flesh of your thighs as he spreads them and he smiles at the sight of your glistening pussy that is covers in both your own juices and the oil.

you feel your legs shake in excitement as he positions his cock at your entrance before slowly pushing in. your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders as moans continue to leave your lips and a large gasp leaves your lips once he bottoms out.

your legs wrap around his waist while his fingers dig into your hips that you know will leave bruises, but you feel too euphoric to care. wooyoung’s cock sits nicely inside you, allowing you to adjust to his size before he moves. you become impatient as you move your hips a little. wooyoung let’s out a small chuckle as he kisses the side of your head before he begins moving his hips in slow strokes before he begins to pick his pace up.

“f-fuck! fuck— wooyoung!” you moan out as you rake your nails down his back as he moves your legs over his shoulders.

“fuck— y/n, i love you so much, gonna let me mate you. gonna let me mark you and come— ngh, inside you?” he voice is strained a little as he continues to drill his hips into yours.

“y-yes! please woo! you make me feel so good, i love you, too!” you cry out before wooyoung is pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips when he pulls away you witness the line of spit connecting your lips before wooyoung is trailing open mouth kisses down your jaw and to your shoulder.

you clench around his cock when you realize what he is about to. the red haired dragon lets out an open mouth moan as he licks a strip up your neck before kissing a spot on your shoulder. you let out a cry once he bites your shoulder, breaking through the skin slightly before he’s pulling away and licking at the bite mark.

you feel your eyes roll into the back of your head as you are overcome with a sudden feeling in the pit of your stomach. “w-wooyoung, i feel— i feel strange,” you tell him.

“want me to stop?” he asks as he slows his pace down a little bit.

“n-no, keep going,” you tell him and he complies as he picks his speed back up and you can’t help but clench down one his cock once again. it’s only then that the feeling seems to snap and your whole body shakes. wooyoung does a few more good thrust before he’s stilling inside of you. sheathing his cock as far as he can before you can feel his come shooting inside your pussy. it’s a weird feeling, you think as wooyoung moves your legs and you once again wrap them lazily around his waist to keep him close to you.

wooyoung is out of breath as he collapses on top of you and you let out a small huff at his sudden weight. you kiss his temple as you rub his back in a soothing motion as you feel him kiss the area around his mark.

“my pretty, pretty mate, you look so beautiful. can’t wait to spend the rest of my days with you,” he says with a slight slur to his words.

“you’re my pretty mate too, youngie,” you tell him with a smile as you hold him impossibly close to you.

wooyoung sits up, hands on either side of your head as he looks you with suddenly serious eyes.

“i meant it when i said i love you,” he says as he leans down rest his forehead against yours. “i will always be here and protect you, no matter what happens when we meet our other mates. you will always be my priority, don’t ever forget that, please.”

his words shock you and you wonder where they suddenly came from, “okay. i love you too wooyoung. forever and always.”

“forever and always, my first love,” he says before kissing you and you spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth and love of each other.

honorary tag : @sanjoongie

network : @cultofdionysusnet

tag list (bold means unable to tag) : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @hwal0v3r @marahleiwhen @harry-the-pottypus @rdiamond2727 @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @voidcupidz @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @kangskims @cvpitvno @lzvxndxr @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @acciocriativity

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for getting a girl a pair of shoes?

I (27NB) dance ballet as a hobby.

In my class is a girl (15) who just started dancing a few months ago and we get along pretty well (the whole class is super nice but you just always have some people who you talk a bit more to in/after class i guess).

Last week she showed me her socks and joked that they used to be white (dancefloor changed that to pitch black) and I asked her if she maybe wanted to get a pair of dance shoes.

She responded that she didn't have enough money for that.

I know that ballet clothes are expensive but for me it has thankfully never been an issue especially since you can get shoes for training (not pointes) for like 15-20€ (i know that's a lot of money for some people especially with the economy atm but it never registered in my brain before since shoes tend to last pretty long if you only dance for fun).

Now to the part where I'm afraid of coming off as the asshole/weird one:

I want this girl to be happy and to have the option to dance without ruining her socks (or slipping and hurting herself - speaking of experience here).

This isn't some kind of hero complex or something, I just have a big labrador heart and want to make people happy. Especially if we share a hobby/community.

My sister used to dance and I'm tempted to pretend I still have a nearly-not-used pair of hers that might fit the girl in my class.

Would it be weird to get her a pair of shoes (which again wouldn't be a lot of money for me) and give them to her for 'whatever she wants to pay me'-Euro because they don't fit me and I couldn't use them anyways?

(I'm afraid tumblr will come @ me for me being an adult daring to talk to a minor but i'm literally just trying to help here. I have nephews, I care for kids.)

What are these acronyms?

[misshoneyimhome]

i LIVE for dad willy!! imagine willy taking his little baby to the all star game. getting to take the baby on the ice and hanging around w his teammates. i can’t it’s so cute

Oh darling, I hear you 🤗❤️

Now I might have accidentally mixed up my own timeline, my bad 🙈 but I attempted to incorporate it into this 「Dad!Willy x reader」 (I'm not saying my manifestation worked, but my manifestation worked 🙌🏼) and simply expanded upon the plot - and yes, we're embracing the Star Wars order for this one 😂

But I sincerely hope you enjoy it, love 🤍

Word count; 1.2K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Hey now, you’re All Star 🌟 I William Nylander [Dad!Willy]

Being pregnant was likely one of the toughest things you've ever experienced, maybe only surpassed by the pain of giving birth. But fortunately, that part tended to fade from memory, thanks to the brain's chemical magic.

Yet, what proved even more challenging was when William hit the road with the Leafs, leaving you alone with your newborn. Thankfully, both your mum and William's mum came to your aid during the team's first week away since your son's birth.

Still, it was tough. You simply wanted William to fully engage with his new role as a parent. That meant waking up in the middle of the night when the baby cried, handling round-the-clock feeding, and changing diapers. Naturally, William wasn't too thrilled about those tasks; they weren't exactly his favourite types of duties.

But whenever he was home in Toronto, though, you made sure he took on his fair share of parenting responsibilities – minus the breastfeeding, which had to do with formula. And surprisingly, William embraced the father role quite adeptly. He was even amazed at how fatherly he felt.

In the last months of your pregnancy, William had a bundle of concerns about the impending chapter in your lives. But fortunately, the other fathers on the team provided ample support, guiding him through the typical worries of first-time fatherhood. And when Eliot finally arrived, William felt well-prepared for his new role.

He proudly took Eliot to the rink to introduce him to his teammates, carrying him around and even skating a few rounds, while you nervously watched from the side-lines. Nothing went wrong; and it was utterly adorable, almost enough to make your ovaries applaud.

And the first hockey games with Eliot were memorable too. Snuggled up in a blanket with oversized headphones on his tiny head, you watched as the Leafs hit the ice.

Then the first offseason came, and it was exhilarating as you both embraced your roles as full-time parents. Travelling back home to visit your parents and heading to Sweden to spend time with William's family were cherished moments. And upon returning to Toronto, you settled back into your routine, with William focused on hockey, and you splitting your time between fellow hockey mums and juggling remote work.

Easier said than done, though. Despite Eliot being a sweet child, being alone with a new born wasn't always a stroll in the park.

So, whenever William had a day off, you made him take over parenting duties so you could catch up on some much-needed sleep. And as he, too, needed the rest after days filled with hockey games and training, eventually, you settled disagreements on who should take the parenting reins with mature rounds of rock, paper, scissors.

The holidays were the next highlight on your calendar – the first Christmas together as a small family of three. And it was absolutely wonderful. Eliot was, of course, spoiled with presents, and you went all out with Christmas decorations. It was a wholesome experience, with most of William's and your family members visiting, some attending hockey matches, while others helped care for Eliot and prepare dinner.

And after the holidays, you returned to the routine of everyday life in January – or as "every day" as life could be as a hockey partner. Just a week into the new year, William's contract extension was in its final stages, and you were beyond excited about the outcome. Naturally, you’d followed him everywhere, knowing that being with both him and your child was essential. But when the contract negotiations concluded, you were beyond thrilled that your family would remain in Toronto for the next eight years.

In your mind, this stability meant Eliot could enjoy a solid childhood without frequent moves. And it was no secret that it held special significance for William, given his own experience of not staying in one place for long during childhood.

To add to the excitement, William was gearing up to participate in this year's NHL All-Star Game events, an extra special occasion as it would be hosted in Toronto. Fans had voted him in, marking his debut as one of the players on the ice. It was an event that everyone looked forward to, though you were also slightly jealous of hearing the other wives were talking about finally having some time off with their husbands. 

Yet, the All-Star Game turned out to be a fantastic event.

The NHL had gone all out in preparations for the All-Star event – red carpets, journalists, countless interviews, and interactions with the Toronto community. William, alongside Auston, Mo, and Mitchy, was in the spotlight. And naturally, your man had to make his entrance with nothing but style.

You could almost sense how many people were admiring him, but as you stood there holding Eliot in your arms, all you felt was pride. Only one person felt prouder than you: William.

At the first opportunity, he scooped up Eliot and proudly showcased him to the cameras. Everyone commented on how stylish the little Willy Styles lookalike appeared, and you couldn't help but beam as William posed with him.

Even during interviews, Eliot sat contentedly in William's lap. Luckily, he was a well-behaved child, sitting still while William answered questions.

Then the main event began.

After the drafting ceremony, you quickly found matching jerseys for you and Eliot to support the blue team. The then the All-Star challenges began. William of course excelled in almost all the disciplines, and the blue team even secured a victory in the end.

Yet, the most amazing part of the weekend wasn't just witnessing William's stellar performance on the ice. It was the company of other partners, combined with the electric energy from the fans in the arena – an experience beyond imagination if you hadn't been there. You had the chance to mingle with other players on a friendly level, given that it wasn't part of the regular season. And meeting unexpected celebrities added to the overall fantastic atmosphere.

Then came the moment that melted your heart all over again.

William skated back onto the ice, this time holding Eliot in front of everyone – the fans, fellow hockey players, and cameras. And he exuded nothing but pride. William was thrilled to showcase his first-born son, a moment he hadn't expected to experience so soon in his life.

It was incredible how Eliot could sleep through almost all of it – a clear testament to who his father was, something you couldn't help but find incredibly amusing.

And after the time in the spotlight, you caught up with two of William's sisters, Michelle and Stephanie as they, too, were thrilled about Eliot, playing the role of the young and energised aunts. Which allowed you and William to have a brief moment to yourselves.

"Have I ever mentioned how much I love you?" William smiled, finally able to hold you closely with no cameras around and no baby in between you.

"Not nearly enough," you chuckled before pulling him in for a heartfelt kiss.

The kiss deepened a sweet and intimate moment that spoke volumes without the need for words. You both relished in the tranquillity, grateful for this stolen moment of connection amidst the whirlwind of events. As you pulled away, there was a shared understanding that, amid the exciting and busy life you led, these quiet moments together were the ones you cherished the most. With a lingering smile, you and William rejoined the company of family and friends, appreciating the joyous atmosphere surrounding you.

[junipers-archive]

Hiii, love your work. I'm asking if maybe there could be a Part 2 or something about this: https://www.tumblr.com/junipers-archive/715380966834782208/spencer-reid-x-baureader-pining-over-each-other?source=share

Maybe they confess and start secretly dating? I don't know just would really like to see more of it bc its really cute.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚✧ CONFESSIONS --> (word count: 1.1k)

❥ heyy thank you sm!! And yes ofc ofc❥ (It's not necessary to read part 1 but it adds to the story if you do!!)

❥ You and Spencer have been pining over each other for ages, everyone at the bau sees it and you finally get the nerve to bring it up!! Results in confession and hints towards secret dating :)

It had only been week since the last case, when your co-workers not-so-subtly hinted towards Spencer returning your feelings. And despite yourself you couldn't get it out of your head. As of right now you were seated next to him in one of the black SUVs, picking your nails nervously and attempting to avoid eye contact.

You tried to look at your phone, but then it'd look like you were careless, then out the window but then you might look sad, and in the end you couldn't take your eyes off him.

He was driving so it gave you more wiggle room to glance every now and then, he was wearing a light purple dress shirt accompanied by one of his few but favorite ties, the light was hitting his hair so that his locks looked close to blonde.

You don't realize you've been 'glancing' too long until he speaks,

"Did I do something?"

Sputtering you try to answer, "I-What?"

He scrunches his eyebrows, puckering his lips like a genius who'd been stumped. And to be truthful he was, you'd been avoiding him non-stop all of this week, leaving him with only awkward greetings and little to no interactions. He missed you.

And when he'd gone to the other team members to ask about it they only gave him vague answers, Derek said you were just frustrated, Emily had only smiled knowingly, Penelope had giggled like she knew something and Rossi had told him to talk to you. Overall it'd seemed like everyone was in on a joke that he wasn't apart of.

He swallows before answering, only furthering your already distracted ogling as his adam's apple bops up and down.

"You've been distant, I just, when people are upset with me they tend to tell me what I've done! A-And I totally understand if I need to apologize for something, but can you at least tell me what for?"

You tilt your head giving him a view of the expanse of soft supple skin of your neck, which he tries his best not to stare at.

"I just...do you like anyone?" It seemed childish to ask but you were curious, at least the way you were asking could be interpreted as a friend-ly.

He freezes when you ask though, a million questions running through his mind. Did you know?Who had told you? Was he that obvious?

"I-no?" he wasn't lying, what he felt for you was beyond liking, it was something much deeper that he felt every time he set his eyes on you.

"No?" You shoulders slump, if he liked someone maybe you had hope, if he liked anyone it would've made your day.

"Do-Do you like someone?" His heart clenches at the thought of you even looking at someone else.

"Yea, yea I more than like someone alright." you grumble.

"oh." its all he can muster up, his brain in short-circuiting.

"I think he knows me better than I know myself to be honest." this was the closest you were ever going to get to a confession, might as well take advantage of his obliviousness.

"He's a gentleman, sweet, kind, he knows everything about me really and he's got these eyes, I swear I could get lost in them and I feel like myself around him..."

To your surprise as you're speaking he pulls over, his hands are clenched around the wheel and he looks...angry?

Once he's stops the car he begins to ramble just as you had, with the acception of a few more hand gestures.

"You can't like someone else. I'm the one that gets you your coffee every morning, I'm the one who knows you're allergic to specific flowers, knows that carry a book with you everywhere you go, that you can't go a day without dessert, that you'd rather stay in then go out, I know you Y/n. I know you better than anyone! Who could possibly know you better than I do?!"

Your eyes are wide, taking in everything he's said, because he's right, you were best friends before you were anything else. Nobody knows you better than him.

"You, I like you Spence." Its a quiet confession, one that you thought you would've said more confidently in retrospect and it takes a minute for him to process but he gets it eventually.

"Oh. But- but you said that- I thought- you-you like me?"

The grin on his face makes butterflies swarm in the pits of your stomach, "I was talking about you, genius. And I more thank like you."

"Yeah?" He questions, even though he's gotten his answer he likes to hear you say it, likes to hear the words leave your beautiful lips and enter his ears like music.

You role your eyes playfully, "Yeah...dummy." Your head is now ducked bashfully.

He feels like he's in a dream, a wonderful, amazing, and ethereal dream. "Would you- I mean you don't have to say yes- but- um-I was thinking maybe you- and I- together I mean-could-"

"Yes." When you get the jist of the question you answer immediately, you've known the answer to that question since the day you met him.

You're both grinning like idiots when he finally starts the car again, managing amazingly he notices not to swerve off course every time he glances at you too long. You talk about how the team wasn't a big help to either of you, swapping stories about the ways they would tease.

In a try to keep the conversation going he asks, "Should- we- um tell the team?" He still can't believe you more-than-like him, or that you agreed to a date, he feels energized, elated, and like he's won.

You're trying not to jump up and down or come off too happy, catching his gaze every now when you look at him and he's already looking at you, only worsening your growing cheerfulness.

"Nah, let them have a taste of their own medicine, lets just enjoy being together, we are together, right?"

He's turned red at your assumption, probably jumping far to quickly to answer, "Yes! I mean- yea, yea we're together."

"That's nice!" You also reply far too quickly, which ultimately gives you both hope, if the two of you were this whipped for one another then you must be meant for each other.

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Apple Crumble NSFW Alphabets Day 15: Bo Sinclair

The third week is here! I am so excited to share with you all the fun things I have planned for the next two weeks of Fictober. First and foremost this week plus an extra day so for the next 8 days there will be NSFW Alphabets.

Notes: Minors DNI, Smut and Smutty themes, NSFW.

A is for Aftercare (What they're like after sex):

Bo is well, Bo. He's not the softest person in the world but the last thing he wants you to get is any kind of infection or anything so he'll help you to the bathroom and get you cleaned up and maybe just maybe give a cuddle or two when it's all said and done.

B is for Body Part (Favorite on them and their partner):

Bo likes his hands best, I mean he works with them everyday whether it's for show at the gas station or not. His hands have been weathered by the years of working and he's very proud of that.

His favorite part of you are your hips or thighs, don't try to make him choose though. He loves running his hands over them or just staring at them as you walk. They're his favorite thing to mark up with hickies even if your shorts are long enough to cover them up.

C is for Cum (Anything to do with cum):

Bo's cum is really thick and boy is there a lot of it when he cums. Don't even think about wasting it though. If he cums inside you he makes you position yourself so it doesn't drip out and if your able to get pregnant well that's a plus too. If neither of those things though he makes you swallow every last drop and then open your mouth to make sure you've swallowed it. Bo doesn't like to waste.

D is for Dirty Secret:

Bo will never ever tell you this but sometimes every so often he has a thought of what if you went down to his room under the station and he watched you get off with one of the people he ties up. He's almost positive if he ever brought it up that you would shoot him down and he doesn't really want you to get involved like that anyway. Never the less he still pictures it from time to time.

E is for Experience (How experienced are they?):

Are you kidding? Bo has all the experience in the world. Even before he tied up girls underneath the station back before him and his brothers even took over Ambrose. His high school years even if they weren't always spent at school served him good in the experience category.

F is for Favorite Position:

Bo likes just about anything where he doesn't actually have to put any work in. He has long days at the station and dealing with his brothers, don't make him work here too. His personal favorite is probably cowgirl or something along those lines though. He likes putting his hands behind his head being the cocky bastard he is and watching you do all the work.

G is for Goofy (How serious are they?):

You can laugh and giggle all you want he doesn't really give a fuck but him? nah. If for some reason he wants to put in work instead of just letting you service him he's going to take it as serious as any other job he does on the day to day.

H is for Hair (How well groomed are they?):

He keeps it trimmed and neat, but don't expect anything special just for you when the two of you start sleeping together.

I is for Intimacy (How are they during the act, romantic etc):

As previously stated multiple times Bo is Bo. Most of the time he's going to want to just fuck and not much else, however if you catch him in a good mood or on a special occasion he tends to ease up for you. Whether it's holding you a little tighter or making more of an effort to be gentler with you, He'll at least try.

J is for Jackoff (Do they masturbate and how often?):

Bo masturbates oftenish. I mean have you seen all the photos he keeps, Although when you come around most of the photos in his basement and that he keeps for personal use will start to turn into pictures of you. So when he does jerkoff it's always to his honey.

K is for Kink (Their kinks):

Bo is big into roleplay, you as a victim lost in the Ambrose and him as well, himself, but he lives for this. Don't be afraid to run and give him a good chase too.

Bondage is also a big one for Bo. He'll tie you up and then just sit and watch as you devolve into cries at him pleading him to touch you. He's already mean as fuck so this is perfect to him.

L is for Location (Favorite places to have sex):

Bo is classic so he'll mostly want it in your shared bedroom at the house, however if he's feeling adventurous he'll call you down to the station so you can do it in the chair he has in the basement. Just maybe try not to think about how many people have been tied their before you.

M is for Motivation (What turns them on?):

Literally everything about you turns Bo on, but if you really wanna get him going. Let him find you in the kitchen in the mornings in one of his shirts, wearing only his shirt and nothing else. THAT is what makes Bo go absolutely feral.

N is for No (Something they won't do):

Bo won't share you at all. Oh it's been awhile since his brothers have had sex? well that's too fucking bad they can tie someone up like he used to do.

O is for Oral (Oral Preferences):

Receiving is Bo summed up in one word. Again, He works long days at the station and keeping Ambrose up and running. He might become a REALLY good giver but he needs to be in a REALLY good mood to do so.

P is for Pace (How fast or slow? Are they rough?):

I honestly think Bo can do both slow and fast, as I've been saying a lot of Bo's sexual escapades depend on his mood and this is no different. If he's angry he's fast and rough but he also will never turn down sleepy slow morning sex.

Q is for Quickie ( Do they like quickies?):

Bo's down for really anything. Sure he prefers to take you in his home in his bed but if he needs to get a quick one off at the station in between victims then so be it.

R is for Risk (Are they down to experiment?):

If you bring things up to Bo he'll do them for you and if likes them well enough he'll start doing it more often but he's not really the one to bring up anything new to try as he's satisfied with things the way they are.

S if for Stamina (How long can they go for?):

Bo can go for a few hardcore rounds. If you wanna continue after that if you've got the stamina then feel free to ride him but don't expect him to do much work.

T is for Toys (Do they use toys and do they like them?):

Bo won't use toys or anything like that on himself, but if you have them and wanna try them out on yourself or wanna look into getting some he'll gladly help you out. He especially likes the remote control ones he can tease you with the best.

U if for Unfair (Do they like to tease?):

Bo is the king of teasing, don't be surprised if he brings you to almost tears some times begging for him to give you some kind of release. He's Bo Sinclair, he can be mean as all hell if he feels like it.

V is for Volume (How loud can they get?):

A few grunts and groans is all your really ever going to get out of Bo. He's not one to be loud himself even if his brothers are out of the house and there's no one else in Ambrose anyways. He wants to and likes to hear you scream though so don't be afraid to make enough noise for the both of you.

W is for Wild Card (Random things):

Sometimes Bo has nightmares about what happened during his childhood. Those are some of the only nights he'll seek you out for cuddles. He'll let you hold him as he falls back to sleep knowing that he's safe and not there anymore.

X is for X-Ray (What are they packing):

Bo is big, about 6 to 7 inches at least but he's also thick. Like REALLY thick, Bo aims to fill you up and that's exactly what he does.

Y is for Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):

Bo is mean, sure but he's also absolutely all about you so his sex drive sky rockets. If you think it was a lot before you came along you haven't seen anything yet.

Z is for ZZZ (How fast do they fall asleep?):

Like I said in Aftercare, He won't fall asleep right away cause he at least wants you to be cleaned up and all before he does. After that though it's pretty much lights out for him. He's got early mornings no matter how late he stays up and needs to get to bed.

[anonymooseforever007]

Romantic Escape

(Tommy Shelby x female reader)

Summary- After being confined to Arrow House for a week because of a small concussion, Y/N is determined to get out. But considering how overprotective Tommy's been recently she'll have to be smart if she'd to make it. To trick Thomas Shelby is a feat many enemies have tried but few have succeeded. But then again, not many of his enemies have the advantage of knowing him the way his wife does...

Or at least they're scared to get that close....

A/N: Hi y'all! No specific TW's for this one other than usual Peaky Violence, Language, and implications of smut (but non actually happens). There is one mention of a past attack but nothing's graphic. Also this was going to be one part, but then I didn't like how the breakup between scenes flowed, so there is a second part going to be posted in a few days probably! Anyways I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️ WC- 3.0k

Romantic Capture (Part 2)

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a week and a half since the bad accident occurred. 

Well, your husband called it a bad accident. 

You called it "being a imbecile who'd gotten so distracted trying nicely draw a baby chipmunk out of the house she didn't realize the stairs ended two steps ago."

But in fairness, every other idea for the poor thing your beloved family suggested involved guns or stew. Besides, Thomas Shelby wasn't about to let even his wife herself, label his darling love as a common 'imbecile'....so 'bad accident' it was. 

Truth be told you didn't even think it should be labeled as such. Sure you were dizzy for the first two days, but you only almost passed out when you stood up once. AND there wasn't any blood so you didn't even need to go to a hospital. Polly was insistent it was a mild concussion and a couple days rest would be all you needed. But your husband thought otherwise, and here you were days later, still confined to the premises. 

You'd laughed at the irony of it. Your husband, who once decided to medicate a cracked skull with cocaine, practically ordering you to stay in bed. The hypocrite. Thomas Shelby was an undoubtedly smart man, but when it came to medicinal advice, he should probably have been the last one giving suggestions. 

In the beginning, you could understand why he was worried. Yes, technically you had been "shot" a few months ago, by a rather rude man trying to prove he was more dangerous than your husband. Truthfully, you'd had sewing accidents that bled more. One time when you were 15, you had accidentally sliced the side tip of your left pointer finger off using a pair of scissors. But luckily you father had been a doctor and was able to fix it up at the house with ease. If held up straight though, it did still look like the tip of that finger was slightly crooked, but that's another story. But the man who'd shot you must have been drunk, because even your blind uncle had better aim than him, and all you were left with was a small nick on your shoulder and a small tear in your dress. Yes, it was still terrifying, and both you and you husband still woke up some nights, hearts beating fast with the thoughts of what would have happened if he had better aim. But in the end you were, for lack of better term, just fine. 

That didn't stop your husband from worrying more though. It seemed the incident had flipped a switch in him, often shared by new mothers or teachers, who tended to be hyperaware of everything that could go wrong for their young steeds. For weeks after, Tommy had been on high alert, not even letting you go out with Polly alone, and everyone knew she could handle anyone just fine. Though maybe there were some good points to his overprotectiveness.

For about a month after, Tommy had decided to work from his home office so he could be closer to you just incase. This meant he didn't have to drive over half an hour to the office every day and could spend more time in bed with you in the mornings, something neither of you complained about. Then you spent many of those days in his office with him, working on your own projects or trying to convince him to let you play boss for the day. That idea was a quick no, but it didn't stop you from stealing his coat, sitting in his chair and, pretending to bark out orders to invisible blinders while he went to the bathroom. Nor did it stop Alfred Solomons from laughing like an hyena the time he had called right as you picked up the phone. You still weren't over knowing he heard you (as Tom) threaten to "make a pie out of the testicles out of whatever coward dared feed the horses Scottish hay instead of Irish!".... Luckily it hadn't been the time when him and "Tommy" were planning how to hide their secret affair. 

In the end, Tommy had eventually gone back to working at the office and only the maids were left to witness your "brilliant" impressions. Soon life went back to its usual order... atleast until you'd gotten hurt again. 

At first you thought it would be fun like before, and that you could spend time trying to convince Tommy he'd had better things to do than sign papers all day. Namely you. But unfortunately, it seemed your husband decided that your injuries weren't serious enough to warrant the both of you a bed rest this time. And truthfully, you also didn't mind that too much either. You adored your husband and loved spending time with him, but that didn't mean you didn't have plans that not involving him. Most days were spend either helping the maids around the house, planning the next gala with Lizzie, or going out with your own small friend group. You had plenty of things to do without him. 

That was until you realized for some reason, the things you wanted to do weren't able to be done. For starters, you had a suspicion all the maids and been ordered to politely decline your offers to help with anything, even laundry. They'd simply smile at you and let you know you didn't have to worry about it, before offering to make some tea so you could rest your head. Then it appeared that both of you and Tommy's spare cars were in the shop for "repairs" meaning you'd have no way to out to meet your friends. Yes, they could come over, but still not all your friends were lucky enough to have cars and you were often the one driving everyone around. Not even Esme or Polly were able to come over, as Polly had gone to take care of a sick Ada in London, and half of Esme's lot had their own mini cases of colds. Even Finn who lived with you and Tommy, had gone with Isaiah, Curly, and Uncle Charlie to Wales for the week to bring home the new horse Tommy bought last month. After a week stuck at home it was getting old, and you wanted out.

So you decided to hatch a plan. And because you had a sneaking suspicion he started it, you had a good idea who your unwitting accomplice was going to be....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was now 6:34 and you had made plans to meet Lizzie at a silent film at 8:15. Though some may not have expected it, you got on quite well with your husband's secretary, and the pair of you could often be found going out to lunch on days when Tommy was particularly stubborn, or having tea with the other Shelby women on the weekends, laughing over whatever foolish thing you'd seen that week. It also didn't hurt that your sweet older brother had shown an undeniable interest in Lizzie, which seemed to be reciprocated anytime they'd meet at a Shelby party. You smiled remembering how many questions he'd asked about her after she'd left the night they'd met, or the grin on her face when he'd "run into" the pair of you on the way back from lunch one day and offered her a flower from a bouquet for your mother. What a wonderful coincidence of course, that your mother and Lizzie had the same favorite flower. So it wasn't an unusually occurrence for you to be seeing her, though you had a feeling if you tried to tell your husband, the last car might just happen to be out of gas. Eventually, you simply decided not to tell him and now all you needed was a way to get there...

And at 6:46 that way came rolling up the gravel as your husband finally returned in the only "working" car left. Standing on the front steps with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a blanket over your shoulders, you waited until your husband had stepped out of the car.

"TOMMY!"

Running up to the man, you smiled wide, quickly embraced him, greeting him with a passionate kiss leaving you both warm. Then you handed him the whiskey, letting him hold his briefcase in the other hand.

"Now, I'm not complaining Love, but can I ask what new trinket I bought today, that deserves this kind of welcome?" Tommy inquired cheekily, bending his ear closer to yours as you lead him inside by his tie. 

He knew very well you loved him, and he absolutely loved you, but usually when he came home you were waiting in the living room or helping in the house somewhere. It had become a small game of y'all's too. If he managed to find you before dinner he'd get some kisses and some praises about how fast he'd found you, "your smart love" he was. If he didn't see you until dinner he'd still get kisses but it just wasn't the same. 

You'd never tell him your dogs played the same game when learning to play fetch. He didn't need to know that. 

Besides, it was all in good fun, and an easy way to try and get him home earlier. He could always work after dinner, but one thing you'd practically demanded the night you'd gotten married was that he was always home in time for the last meal of the day. And for the last two years he'd actually kept his promise, except for the days he was out of town on business. Even then you'd convinced him to have what you called "telly dinners". You'd sit by the telephone with your dinner plate on your lap and tell him about your day. While miles away he'd be listening, happy to hear your voice after being with Alfie all day. Hell, one time you'd even gotten impatient waiting for the call and inadvertently interrupted a meeting. You'd ended up having a lovely conversation with the other gangster himself about how his dog was doing, while your husband mumbled about "fucking betrayal on both ends." He didn't really mean it, but he'd always find something just plain odd about the friendship between you and the gruff man. If was as if the two most opposite ends of his world would come together sometimes and try to take a few more years off his life. But if being friends with Alfie made you happy then he'd likely have to deal with him forever. Or at least until he found a way to make the murder look like an accident....

"Can't a wife just be happy her husband's returned home? I missed you."

"And I missed you every second I was away." One thing about Tommy was that he could be quite romantic when he wanted to. And even if he did bottle up his feelings too often, he still had a sweet talk like no other. "But I seem to remember my lovely wife being slightly irritated with me this morning. Something about keeping her in a cage," Tommy rebutted thinking about the small argument you'd both had this morning. 

Yes, he did know that he probably should let up a little on the overprotective precautions he's set up these last few days under the guise of letting you rest. But what he'd not yet told you, is the same day you'd gotten hurt, another enemy had made a threat on your life. And then getting a call, not even an hour later, from Frances about your concussion had thrown him in to a small panic, remembering the last time he'd almost lost you. So he'd taken his chances and used your minor injury as a way to keep you at the house for a few days while he had the man delt with. He knew he should have just told you from the start, but then coming home and seeing you curled up in the master bed, asleep in one of his shirts with a melted ice pack by your pillow, he'd decided to wait. It wasn't until today he'd finally had confirmation the danger was over and he could be sure you were safe. Maybe if your head really was better, he could take you out to dinner to celebrate.... Hopefully that would also soften the inevitable lecture he'd receive upon you learning the truth.

"Well yes I did say that, but I've had time to think, and as long as you promise to make it up to me later tonight, I'll forgive you," you replied coyly, lips brushing his as your words left no room for confusion on exactly how he'd have to make it up to you. "And besides," you said stepping back from him in the front hall, nudging his arm slightly so he'd drink the whiskey, "My head really is feeling better now, so maybe tomorrow we can go out to dinner too. I've been at the house all week you know?"

Tommy drank the whiskey and smirked, spreading his arms open wide as playful show, "With an offer like that how can I refuse, eh love? You want a real romantic escape from this place huh?"

You laughed, before pulling him close again wrapping your arms around him tightly, not giving him the chance to set down his briefcase or the empty glass. After all, if his hands were full, how could he stop you from digging your hands into his coat pockets during the embrace. Loving kisses on his face and neck helped distract him from your less than honest intentions. Well, partially less than honest... you still did fully intend for him to make it all up to you, especially with the small noises beginning to come from his throat as you kissed the small spot beneath his neck he loved. BUT that would happen only late tonight after the movie and maybe a few drinks with Lizzie. 

Quickly but efficiently, you moved a hand under the blanket you'd wrapped yourself in outside, to muffle the noise and pulled back from him again. But this time, Tommy has plans of his own.

"In fact," he said slowly backing you up to the nearest wall, finally putting his case and glass on a nearby table and taking the blanket from your hands. You hopped he hadn't noticed the slight jingle it made when he threw it to a nearby chair. "Why don't we start now," he whispered, beginning to leave light kisses on your neck, "I do have a lot to make up for after all. Telling the maids not to let you help at all, and then I had the cars brought to the shop so you couldn't leave incase you almost passed out again." If he hadn't been kissing your own sweet spot right now you might have pinched his ear and began to lecture him on just that. Letting out one soft moan, you ducked your head to press his lips against yours once again. You pulled him closer and grabbed his tie, taking control of the kiss again.

"Nope Tommy Love, I'm sorry but that can't happen just yet."

Hearing those words your husband frowned as he was the one to pull back lightly this time. 

"Why? Does your head hurt? I can get something if you need it," he asked concerned. Maybe the fall was more serious than Polly said if it was still bad a week and a half later.

"No love, my head's just fine Tommy, but I got a call from Polly earlier, saying there were some papers you needed to get done by 11:00 tonight. They were the ones you neglected when I surprised you for lunch last week and got knocked off the desk," you cooed at him, running your finger down his chest slowly to remind him exactly what kind of lunch it was. Plus, if he got too worried about your head again he may not let you out of his sight, and your plans would be ruined. It was 7:00 now and you'd need to leave soon. "She said they were very important and you really need to finish them. Therefore, I insist that you immediately go to your office and get them finished. And finished properly too, don't just rush it to make time for me."

"Love you know I'd never rush with you,"  and you have a small snort at the truth in those words. "Besides, I guess you do make a point and we wouldn't want to anger my aunt would we," Tommy chucked, knowing at least six things he'd said today to piss his aunt off.

"Exactly, so why don't you go to your office and close the door. I don't want to see you until at least 10:30 Mr. and don't forget to double check spelling. Those papers better be fit for a queen because that's exactly what your aunt deserves," you commented, lightly pushing Tommy towards his office. You had him now. So close!

Tommy smiled lightly and leaned over to grab the blanket from the chair, intending to bring it back in his office where it came from. Shit.

"Eh eh eh," you scolded lightly, stepping in front of the chair and grabbing Tom's wrist lightly right before he could pull it up. "I'm not done with that," you took the blanket from the chair yourself and bundled it to your chest, "You. Office. Now. And remember," you pulled close to Tommy one final time, "after 10:30 when you're done with your work, come and find me. And Tommy?" you teased, teeth lightly biting his ear lobe drawing a small groan from him as his eyes closed, "Tommy I did do some gardening today. Why don't you start by looking places where one can get a little less," you lightly kissed his other earlobe, "dirty? Maybe the bath will still be warm..."

Tommy cursed lightly as you placed one final, deep kiss to his lips before pushing back and sending him on his way. You were still in the front hall when he looked back over his shoulder, waving happily to him. And he was none the wiser that underneath the blanket was your other hand....gripping tightly to his car keys.

Romantic Capture (Part 2)